#second night back? she's getting absolutely fucking railed into next week

[invinciblerodent]

okay i was teetering on the cusp of the DA:I chasm but i'm back now

apparently.... vampire sex. was what i needed. to step back from the beckoning abyss

gale baby you're so real for this, you were so right that time in the swamp, dick really DO be that good sometimes that it makes you wanna live

#squirrel plays bg3 #oc: iona raedir #yeeeesh i did do The Boy's personal quest on my romance run today #yes Iona did get thoroughly Mary Shelley'd #and i think my writing mojo was also brought back by it a lil #first night back? gentle nonsexual intimacy of holding him in the tub and washing his abuser's blood out of his hair #then tucking him into her bed and letting him sleep #truly sleep; not meditate but genuinely drift into restorative slumber #atop her breast and in her arms until his eyes stop fluttering and whimpers die down into soft (adorable) snores #second night back? she's getting absolutely fucking railed into next week #but. like. sweetly. lovingly y'know. #what MATTERS is that whether it's the horrible crick in her neck from holding him all night #or.... other reasons #Iona is going to be walking a bit funny for the next few days #(i feel like my go-to for these is just to say they gave the coinpurse to Karlach and trusted her to keep everyone off the premises) #(I feel like she'd be an excellent wingwoman no matter what) #(only while Arvid is a bit discreet a bit more subtle) #(Iona is more like “listen- you don't want to be upstairs for what's about to happen. I still have grave dirt in my asscrack.”) #(“and if that's any indication of the kind of ravishing i'm about to get; we might as well call for new sheets now”) #(and Karlach is just like “I cannot decide whether that's hot or gross; respect”)

[stevieschrodinger]

So here we have Eddie Munson, wild child, irresponsible Omega.

Gets himself knocked up, because of course he does. Isn't even sure who the Alpha is.

Eddie Munson; father to an hours old pup. Eddie Munson is still in highschool because he fucked senior year royally. He lives in a one bed trailer with his uncle that is not, in any way, equipped for a pup. Eddie Munson who already has an arrest record and is quite clearly still slinging drugs on the side.

Absolutely not; CPS takes his pup before she's a day old.

Eddie Munson rails against it, screams about it, cries about it, has a fucking come to Jesus moment with himself at three in the morning and he's still wearing the godamn stupid pants from the hospital because his ass is leaking and his tits are sore and god dammit he's getting his pup back.

He sells the last of his stock the next day, drops highschool and job hunts like his life depends on it. Still needs a place that's not the trailer; no one will rent to an unmated single Omega. He won't get his pup back as a single Omega.

Enter Eddie's best friend: Jeff. More importantly, Alpha Jeff. Who does Eddie an absolute fucking solid and agrees to move in with him. So they do. And they pretend to be a couple to get Eddie's pup back.

Unfortunately, Steve Harrington has seen it all before and sees through them in about thirty seconds flat. They even have two bedrooms and one is clearly Eddie's and one is clearly Jeff's and they confidently lie to Steve's face and tell him they had a friend stay last night, that's all, this will be the pups room.

There's an actual crib in Eddie's room already; Steve doesn't say shit.

Because the thing is, Steve's fostered pups from actually abusive homes and neglect ridden situations, and this isn't that.

And the few times he sees Eddie and Jeff together, pretending to be a couple it's just...painful. Jeff puts his arm around Eddie one time and Eddie actually pulls away instinctively,, a 'what the fuck is this?' expression clear on his face until he realizes and makes himself sink back into it.

They tried to hold hands one time. It almost turned into a thumb war.

Eddie might be lying through his teeth, but he's a desperate Omega who just wants his baby back. So Steve starts the process, signs off on the supervised visits, and spends eight weeks watching Eddie Munson be the best parent anyone could hope for.

Inconveniently, Steve spends those eight weeks falling in love.

And they go on like that, until Steve bumps into Jeff and his girlfriend somewhere, and Jeff fucking panics and drops the girls hand line it's on fire, and the girl gets the most offended fucking look on her face and it's everything Steve can do not to burst out fucking laughing. And Jeff is trying to sputter an explanation which is turning his girlfriend incandescent with rage, "you said you were just friends! Is that your pup??!"

And Steve is actually frightened for Jeff at this point because this girl looks like she is ready to start throwing down so Steve has to just admit, that he knows. He's known right from the start.

Eddie nor Jeff can't lie for shit.

And he talks the girl down, "so Jeff is actually a really great guy, he's just been trying to help Eddie get his pup back," and the girl melts at the story.

Eddie doesn't. Eddie fucking freaks out. Thinks he's about to loose his pup all over again.

But Steve has an alternative suggestion, and it starts by asking Eddie "what are you doing this Friday? Can I take you to dinner?"

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #omega eddie because he's so pretty #alpha steve harrington #fliclet #fic ideas

[v3nusxsky]

Hello miss Mars, can u do this for me

Let's say lesso was turned into idk an animal by one of her students of course she gets turned back to normal but the only thing that didn't change was her strap she has ready for her professor gf reader.

(So do you know when animals F the males D gets swollen and big on the inside right)

First round was smooth(just c@mming), second round reader is riding lesso(by that readers legs are shaking, and a tear, squirting)

Third round it's alot more heated,(doggy style, reader keeps telling lesso faster) because of what happened earlier her strap had gotten swollen and big, stretching the living out of reader(which reader enjoys very much) which causes reader to c@m,squirt alot, and maybe a little pee leaving the sheet just wet. Leaving both reader and lesso breathless, shaking, and unable to speak. Lesso then pull out of her, pulling and stretching reader alittle more.

{Mommy kink and breeding kink}

(You don't have to but can we have alot of dialog, even the moaning and screaming...can this be long too?)

{Please do not rush with the stories or this one please we appreciate your work miss Mars have a nice day/night😊❤️⚘️}

Leo’s omega

*Authors note~ my first ever a/b/o omegaverse fic I'm absolutely in love with these kind of fics*

Trigger warnings~ Alpha Leo Omega r mommy kink breeding kink knot squirting rough sex heat rut praise degrading begging G!P lesso

Prompt~ see ask^^^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

You loved when you got to assist in your girlfriends classses, it was always an experience. Most of the time after the lessons ended you were promptly leant over her desk and railed into a new universe. Only this time things happened more literally than normal.

Lesso had her class practicing curses, and you were intrigued with how well they'd progressed until Hort has a go. He decided to curse Leonora and yourself, so confident with his abilities that he would be able to turn you both back. Lesso threatened him with the doom room should he fail so the pressure was on. He did his curse, you and Leonora being transported into another universe, one where you felt the need to be with Leo, all the time. You noted that Leo seemed to be backing in that universe and extremely protective of you, her stance guarding you from the strangers here. Only then you were ripped back into your normal verse. Nothing went wrong to your knowledge until you felt it. That same need to be near her, and the scent was overwhelming. You felt your thighs drench with slick.

You and lesso were active but you'd never felt this before, you seemed to be triggering Leonora's senses as well, she immediately became territorial of you, the students now shaking with fear at her dominance. Hort admitted to sending you to the OmegaVerse, and before he fled the room he reminded Leonora of one think, you'd never be human again. A hybrid and it was clear to Lesso what stance you both took. The straining member in her pants replacing her strap as you stood an unmated Omega, her Alpha wanting to claim you as hers. No not want, needing to. Your scent sweet, too sweet. She needed you and that took forefront of her mind Hort could be dealt with later.

Both yourself and Leonora made your way to your room, the scent of your own items calming you slightly. But Leonora couldn't say the same, "fuck you're in heat" Leo whined seemingly knowing more about this than you, yet all you acted about was quenching this insatiable need. "Leo I need you so bad it hurts, want you to claim me make me yours need you." 

It was as if those words awoke her most carnal desires, her lips on yours instantly as she tore through your clothing. You weren't much better shredding her clothing in a instant, her scent driving you wild with need. You need her to rail you into next week and something foreign. Your thighs were absolutely covered in slick, "Leo? Why's so much?" You mumbled confused before your eyes found her erect cock and it seemed to be starting to swell at the base. "You're in heat my Omega" she growled which caused something to stir within you. Hers. But when you touched your scent gland there was no mark there. "Show me alpha."

There was no need for any foreplay with how your slick was dripping but lesso still wanted to shower your breasts with attention while she fucked you sense, her pace more brutal and fast than normal. Due to your heat, the scent of an alpha you were cumming within minutes. Once was not going to be enough for either of you. So lesso flipped on her back and guided you to straddle her cock. "Fuck mine, fuck want to breed your cunt and fill it with my pups, you will look so beautiful full of my pups" she growled her fingers gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as you bounced on her cock. Leonora wasn't going to stop until you came all over her while she tried to hold herself off wanting to pleasure you as much as she could before she let you have her knot. You came when she bit into your scent gland squirting all over her stomach, the stretch of her new appendage tearing you ever so slightly not that you cared, the state of euphoria you were in was unlike no other.

You didn't realise you were crying until you felt her tongue licking her mark clean, the little droplets of blood causing her to moan happily before she came to lick your tears. It was animalistic not that you cared, you needed more and you were in a state of being willing to do anything for it. "Leo, need  more, alpha please knot me, make me full of your pups, please alpha I need you" your whispered and whines of need caused Leonora's restraint to snap. You were quickly positioned on your hands and knees as she entered your cunt so easily, her hands massaging the oil gland on the small of your back which has a pleased whimper falling from you. Her pace ruthless as she hammered into you feeling the pressure at the base of her dick become overwhelming. “Faster alpha harder got more please Leo faster please!”

"Oh mommy! Want your knot. Give it to me alpha please make me take it" you all but screamed for her as she bit over her mark she'd previously made causing you to squirt as her knot slipped into you, bonding you both together, her spurts of white hot cum painting the walls of your fluttering cunt white. The knot to ensure some of the cum with catch with your womb and you'd be round and full of her pups. Your stomach had a slightly noticeable bulge as you both howled in delight, your inner desires met. The scent of your alpha easing you down from euphoria.

Only when her knot depleted did she remove her dick from you, your cunt gaping from such a large intrusion and the tear noticeable there, you couldn't help but whimper before burying your nose into her scent glad. The effect she had on you was addictive and all you wanted was for her to hold you surrounded by the softest blankets and pillows, the urge to create a nest for you both slightly overwhelmed you but your exhaustion won out as long as she was with you. You'd create a nest later when your heat died down until then you'd need Leonora, your alpha, to make it all better and fuck you into a euphoric bliss, you quickly realised the uncomfortable body temperature was a sign of heat but knowing she'd claimed you as hers helped. "I love you my Omega." Was the last thing you heard.

Word count~ 1337

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #lady lesso #sfgae #leonora lesso #lady lesso x reader #lesso x reader #omegaverse #lady leonora lesso x reader #alpha Leonora #lady leonora lesso #lesso x reader smut #leonora lesso x reader #lady lesso x you #lesso smutt #dean of evil #dean of evil x reader #omega reader #omega x alpha #alpha lesso

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Take Me, I’m Yours

(the highest voted options on the poll were ‘Geralt rescues Jaskier from trouble’ and ‘Jaskier riles the Captain up in public’ so I teamed up with the ever-marvelous, stupendously talented @limrx to bring you this Swashbuckling AU oneshot/art piece featuring a horribly jealous Geralt and a frisky, flirty Jaskier)

------------------------

“Do you think he likes me back?” Jaskier asked. He leaned over the ship’s railing to look more closely at the dolphin following behind them. Lambert didn’t think he’d fall overboard but it would be kind of funny if he did. The strange young nobleman did have a way of always landing on his feet, though. 

“I know he does.”

“Well how come he hasn’t told me anything about it, then?” 

“You’ve met the Captain, right? About this tall, long white hair, weird yellow eyes, emotionally incompetant?” 

“You have a good point. Should I just confront him about it?”

“Yeah, sure.” Lambert rolled his eyes before shooting Jaskier a pointed look. “If you want to send your ransom note back to Lettenhove the following morning.”

“Fuck. I just want to kiss him, Lambert. Regularly. I want to know if he snores or not. I want to lay on the deck beneath the stars and talk to him like we’re friends and not just pirate and pseudo-pirate-captive. I really want to see what his ass looks like under those godsforsaken trousers, Lambert, it’s killing me not knowing.”

“You’re more insatiable than a siren during the rainy season,” the second mate teased. “But with fewer teeth.”

“Shut up.”

“Are you going ashore when we lay anchor?”

“Am I allowed?”

“I assume you’ll be allowed. You’re practically part of the crew. You’ve been aboard for nearly two weeks and you’ve pulled your fair share of the weight, if not moreso.”

“Why thank you, Lambert. I appreciate you noticing.”

“Of course, Jaskier. You may be an utter fool and a fop to boot, but at least you’re a hard worker.”

“Asshole.”

“Mhm.”

They both watched the dolphins for a minute in silence before Jaskier’s face split into the most heinous and dastardly grin. It filled Lambert with an unmistakable sense of fear and worry. “I have a brilliant idea. I know how to get Geralt to admit his feelings.”

“No, absolutely not. I am not getting roped into this, you horrible little minx. Don’t give me that look! I won’t help you this time!”

“But Lamby-bert,” Jaskier whined. “If he has someone to take all his frustrations out on in bed then I’m sure it’ll be easier to negotiate for higher shares next time we take a vessel.”

Lambert did not miss the fact that Jaskier said ‘we’ when referring to the crew. The second mate knew the little nobleman was here to stay; it had been clear that Jaskier would be sticking around from the moment Geralt first laid eyes (and hands) on him. The Captain hadn’t stopped looking out for the lad since. Lambert wasn’t even going to think about that singular flirty kiss atop the mainmast nearly a week and a half ago. Geralt had been pining after the acrobatic little idiot ever since and making absolutely no move to flirt back. It was driving the crew absolutely crazy. “Alright, you devilish siren. I’m in.”

----------------------------------------

Jaskier cleaned up nice.

And he deserved to clean up nice. He’d worked hard to put this outfit together. Billy had lent him a pair of dark blue breeches in return for Jaskier’s help with mending the mainsail. The shirt he was wearing was half a size too big, which was exactly big enough for the neckline to plunge even lower than he usually wore it. This way it revealed more of his toned (and rather hirsute) chest. He’d borrowed it from Starkey, who was the same height as him but who had much broader shoulders.

The Captain was going to absolutely die when he saw Jaskier.

He whistled a rather naughty shanty as he exited the bunk room and made his way towards the gangplank where Starkey, Lambert, and Eskel were waiting for him. He spun in a quick circle, arms out to show off his clothes. Lambert and Starkey whistled appreciatively and Eskel hid his face in the palm of his hand. “Ready, boys?”

“Absolutely not,” Starkey smiled. The first mate standing next to him tilted his head back to look at the sky, sighing deeply.

“Are you sure about this? What if the Captain tries to kill Lambert?”

“He won’t be killing anyone. Hopefully. If he does run his sword through anyone, it will most likely be me,” Jaskier joked. “Now, this is my first time drinking with real pirates. Anything I should know?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Eskel suggested. Lambert bit back a laugh and Starkey snorted.

“Impossible.”

“Well then, let’s go.”

The four men made their way down onto the docks and through the sparse crowd of sailors and merchants still mingling in the evening light. Starkey led them to a decent tavern and found a vacant corner table, which gave them an excellent view of the door.

Geralt and Starkey had spent the morning selling their stolen cargo to various merchants, shopkeepers, and artisans. The Captain had divided up the gold between his crew according to their various contracts and Jaskier, more as a jest than anything else, was given two crowns as well. “For not dying,” Geralt had intoned seriously. The men were amused but Jaskier’s face had gone bright red with embarrassment. The young noble had talked them out of trouble with the Skelligan patrols twice last week and Geralt was repaying him with public humiliation? Lambert knew that the Captain’s earlier actions were about to make this evening a lot more entertaining (if slightly uncomfortable) and he was ready to get this show on the road. He flung an arm around Jaskier’s waist and ordered them all a round of ales.

“So everyone knows what the general goal here is, right?” Jaskier clarified.

“Yes,” Eskel nodded. “You’re using Geralt’s jealous nature to make him act on his less than subtle feelings for you.”

“Correct. Wonderful.”

Lambert squeezed the noble’s hip through his borrowed pants and Jaskier huffed indignantly in reply. Starkey chuckled softly at their antics and winked at the barmaid when she brought them their drinks. “Can’t wait, really. It’s been so boring lately and the last two ships we took didn’t even fight back. This is drama. This is entertainment!”

“Shut up, Starkey,” Jaskier pouted. He leaned back into Lambert’s embrace and gulped down half his ale.

“Slow down, kid,” the first mate teased. “Or you will be drunk when he gets here and your plan won’t work.”

“I need to get the pink in my cheeks or I’ll look suspicious,” Jaskier argued. “One ale should do it without getting me tipsy. Maybe two if it’s weak.”

“Method actors,” Lambert rolled his eyes.

Jaskier was sipping slowly at his second ale and the other three pirates were on their fourth or fifth when Geralt finally came barreling through the tavern door. “There you are!” Eskel shouted, waving the Captain over. Nobody missed the barely-hidden glare Geralt aimed at Lambert’s arm where it rested against the nobleman’s lower back.

“Captain,” the second mate nodded.

“Lambert. Eskel. Starkey.” Geralt greeted them all in turn.

“Heyyyy,” Jaskier whined, leaning forward against the edge of the table and pouting. “What about me, sir?”

“You.”

“Rude,” the brunette huffed. Lambert ran a lazy hand up and down his spine and Jaskier watched as Geralt’s eyes narrowed into slits. He sighed sadly and melodramatically into his mug and nodded once in the second mate’s direction. “Thank you, darling. At least someone in this crew likes me.”

Starkey saw Geralt’s eyelid twitch and slid Eskel two crowns under the table to settle their bet. He thought the vein on their Captain’s throat would show up before the eyelid went, but it must have been the first mate’s lucky night this time around. “Hey Eskel, let’s see if any of the lovely ladies here want to dance with us, eh?”

“You coming, Captain?” Eskel asked. “Seems like Jaskier and Lambert are a bit busy.”

“Yes, Geralt,” Jaskier egged him on. The Captain had a white-knuckled grip on the handle of his mug. The noble took a long swig of ale and licked a bit of foam from his lip when he was finished, noting the way Geralt’s eyes locked onto his mouth. “Why not go dance with a pretty lady. Certainly nobody else has your attention.”

The pirate Captain finally snapped. He slammed his mug down and reached around the table to grab Jaskier around the waist. He hauled him out of the second mate’s grip and onto his feet. “Captain, what are yo-”

“Yer coming with me, siren,” Geralt snarled. Lambert relinquished the nobleman with very little fuss, winking at Jaskier as the pirate Captain swung him up and over his broad shoulder. The young man flashed all three of his co-conspirators a thumbs up as he was carried out of the tavern like a sack of potatoes.

“A little rude to Lambert, don’t you think, sir?” he asked, resting his elbow against Geralt’s shoulder blade and settling his chin onto his hand. He crossed his ankles to make it easier for the pirate to balance his weight comfortably. “But they’ll be happy to know that our little plan worked out.”

Geralt stopped in his tracks but did not set his captive down. “Your what?”

“Our plan,” Jaskier explained as if bored. “To get you to finally do something about all this sexual tension between us. I kissed you on the mouth for fuck’s sake.”

“I thought it was an accident.”

“Oh, and saving you from hanging at the hands of some Skelligan officers, was that an accident? Not sending a ransom note last time we stopped for water and not turning you in for the reward in Novigrad, were those accidents too? There is a hefty bounty on your head, White Wolf, and I could be living independently in a castle somewhere right now except that I happen to find you endlessly attractive and fascinating.”

“Hmm.” Geralt resumed walking. Jaskier noticed with a smirk that his pace had picked up quite a bit. As if he was suddenly in a hurry to be somewhere.

“Hum dismissively all you like, sir, but you’re still carrying me back to your cabin to ravish me senseless, are you not?”

“Ravish may be the wrong word for what I’d like to do to you, but you do look rather tempting.”

“Thank you. I put a lot of effort into this ensemble.”

“You’re a calculating little nymph, aren’t you?”

“No, of course not. I only managed to secure a bunk aboard the Kaer Morhen and wrap its infamous captain around my finger in less than a month. I am but a silly nobleman with excellent dexterity and a penchant for climbing.”

“Lambert was right to call you a minx.”

“He does love that nickname.”

“It’s not an endearment.”

“Whatever.” The ground shifted and Jaskier knew they were making their way up the gangplank and back onto the ship. This was the part he’d been waiting for! Geralt kicked in his cabin door and stepped inside, turning to close and lock it behind them. Jaskier wriggled impatiently. “Set me down!”

“Hmm, no. I rather like the view from here.”

“Excuse me?”

Geralt gave him a gentle smack on the ass, almost a pat really, and huffed out a laugh at Jaskier’s offended noise. “You’ve been an awful lot of trouble for a nobleman and a captive.”

“I’m barely a captive, Geralt. Give it up already.”

“You haven’t signed the book.” He set Jaskier back on his feet and looped his arms around the younger man’s waist to pull him close. “You’re still a captive until you swear on the book and sign your name next to the others. Then you’ll be part of my crew.”

“I have yet to negotiate for my shares,” the brunette stated. He tilted his chin back, baring his neck slightly and offering Geralt his ale-damp lips. “Ten crowns after every capture and I get to sleep in here with you. That sounds fair.”

“You’re a good worker. Seven crowns, you can sleep in here with me, and you can borrow my bandannas whenever you want.”

“Even the red one?”

“Especially the red one.”

Jaskier’s soft pink mouth brushed against the pirate’s as he murmured his answer: “Deal.”

Geralt’s lips crashed against Jaskier’s with the strength of a wave hitting the side of his ship in a maelstrom. The Captain’s mouth was so warm and his lips moved against the younger man’s with almost frightening determination. As if he was trying to prove himself. His arms were strong around the nobleman’s lower back and his white hair brushed deliciously against the skin of Jaskier’s neck.

“You’ve bewitched me, body and soul.”

“Oh, Geralt,” the younger man sighed, opening his mouth to let the other in. I never thought the word ‘plunder’ could apply to kissing but here I stand, corrected by experience yet again. The White Wolf of the Seven Seas pulled away, made breathless by a young and foolish nobleman in search of adventure.

“I’m not a siren, you know. Not even a little. My family’s estate is landlocked.”

Geralt’s fingers rose from his waist and brushed against his cheekbone reverently. Those amber eyes, so cold and focused when he shouted orders or intimidated a merchant captain, were looking down at Jaskier with such devoted tenderness. The ex-noble felt his heart fill anew and double in size. There wasn’t enough room in his body to hold all of this feeling.

“Kiss me again, Captain. Take me to bed.”

“You’re too good at tempting me. You must be evil.”

“I assure you,” Jaskier smirked, ripping Geralt’s shirt over his head in one smooth movement. “I am.”

#fanfic #geraskier fic #geraskier fanfic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #swashbuckling au #geraskier swashbuckling au #pirate au #geraskier pirate au #geraskier pirates au #geraskier pirates #limrx is a fucking queen and i owe her my life #collab #geraskier collab #limrx #i borrowed starkey from Peter Pan #lambert #eskel #the witcher fanfic

[appropriatelystupid]

So obviously there’s Supercorp in medieval times AUs

(trust and believe I’ve read and loved every single one they never get old)

But what about a Supercorp at Medieval Times AU…

Lena, is the reigning Queen:

She started working there in high school because she needed an excuse to get out of the house and because she knew Lillian would frown upon such an establishment

(She stayed because the joy of the kids that come through is just too sweet a high)

Lena started as a serving girl, entry level and easy enough, but quickly set her eyes on the prize: The Throne

The Queen at the time, an undeniably irritating woman, Siobhan, makes it almost too easy for Lena to usurp her

Siobhan has multiple reviews from guests for her lackluster performance, as well as numerous complaints from coworkers for being a menace to work with

In the end, Siobhan all but hands Lena everything she needs

Siobhan is late for the start of the dinner show, on a busy Friday

Lena isn’t the one to find her, but, if pressed, she’ll admit to making sure the manager was

The show needs to get started but they absolutely will be having a conversation later about the fact that she was just caught fucking one of the squires in her changing room

(It does not go her way)

Suddenly the Throne is open and there’s another show tomorrow and the manager is scrambling because how will we find a queen in less than a day

And so Lena makes her move; stops by the manager’s office and offers to cover the role until they can find someone permanent; she knows the show from watching it everyday and, best of all, she already fits the current wardrobe

And so her reign begins

Kara, is determined to be a Knight:

She starts about a month after Lena becomes Queen

Her best friend, Winn, a jester who does a pre-show act as people are being seated, gets her an interview to be a stable hand

A lifetime of riding horses makes her more than qualified

Kara is feeding one of the horses the first time she sees Lena, already dressed for the dinner show

(She almost loses a finger in her distraction)

They don’t get a chance to talk for a few days, as far as Kara can tell Lena is pretty aloof and unsociable

It’s two days later when Kara finds Lena grooming one of the horses after a show and she finds out that it’s just been a bad week for Lena

In addition to some personal family stuff, the knights in the show have all, at one time or another, tried to ask her out and a couple really don’t know how to take “no” for an answer

After seeing her work with the horse, Kara tells her she’s always welcome in the stables with her

She wields her broom like a sword, promises to protect her from any and all unsavory knights, and finishes with a deep bow in hopes of making her crack a smile

She gets a deep belly laugh, head thrown back and cheeks dusted pink, and a smile that almost blinds her instead

She feels her heart trip over itself in her chest and knows she must become a knight so she can at least pretend to fight for the love of this incredible woman

A few months into working there, Lena catches her practicing with a sword between shows

A few too many call outs meant someone was needed to polish the gear and Kara got distracted™️

Lena just picks up a sword of her own, with an elaborate flourish, and they spend half of their lunch break having a duel

Both are very impressed by the others swordsmanship and also very turned on by the whole thing

They both keep that bit to themselves

Lena starts plotting her next show shake up

A few months later, there’s drama™️ in the arena during the knights practice jousts, which is to say, Morgan is in a huff because Lena turned him down, again, and Maxwell can’t help but taunt him by bragging that she’ll “totally say yes" to him when he asks again

Mike and James try to calm them both down but Morgan’s horse gets spooked and throws him off

He doesn’t break anything but the way he’s whimpering you’d think he did; either way he can’t perform that night

Before the manager can start to panic, Lena suggests Kara take Morgan’s spot for the night

He’s hesitant about putting a female in the role but his options are limited with their back up on vacation

Kara is shocked that Lena suggests her but quickly jumps to her own defense

It’s already known she’s great on a horse, and her time working with them (and in the gym) mean that Morgan’s gear will work well enough for her to be comfortable and still in control

It’s too close to the doors opening for anything else so Kara dons the armor (and if she can’t stop smiling well then that’s just too bad for everyone else because she’s ecstatic)

As they gather to determine the winner for that night’s show, Lena looks almost as excited for her as Kara is

The Queen and her four Knights gather around and Lena blindly draws a beanbag from the dark box in front of them: Red will be winning tonight

She replaces the bag and mixes them up a bit before the knights all draw their own

Kara draws blue; Lena thinks it’s fitting for her first show, considering how bright her blue eyes are shining in excitement, even if it means she’ll be coming in second that night

Mike gets red and all Lena can think is at least it’s not Maxwell again

The show goes better than most have in weeks

Kara’s joy is palpable and the Blue section is, at times, deafening

Even though she comes in second, when Kara removes her helmet and reveals herself to the crowd, the entire arena erupts

Lena, from her place on the throne, can see little kids all over the crowd in awe of her

(Shortly after Lena had become Queen, she had suggested adding a sort of meet and greet after the shows, a chance for the younger kids to meet their heroes of the night

As is her own custom, Lena is with the winning Knight, seeing as they had just fought for her hand, after all)

Most nights the knights are greeted by kids from their own section, but tonight, from where Lena is standing with Mike, she can see kids in crowns from all the sections eager to meet Kara

Kara, absolutely cannot stop beaming and is told more than a few times that she needs to make her interactions quicker

(She does not go quicker)

When she finally does get through all the guests waiting for her, the manager offers Kara the role permanently

Morgan had quit when he heard Kara was replacing him and there’s no denying the popularity of her as a knight

It feels like an eternity (it’s been two weeks) before Kara finally draws the winning color for the night: Green

She thinks it’s fitting, just like Lena’s eyes as it were

Lena, for her part tries desperately to not show how excited she is that Kara will finally be her winning Knight

The show goes exactly as it always does, everything running without a hitch, but Kara can’t help but be a nervous wreck as they get to the end

She has the flower crown in hand, she knows what comes next but she can’t help but feel jittery in her saddle

She knows she needs to trot past her section in victory

She knows she needs to ride to Lena in the Royal Box

She knows she needs to place the flowers on her head and crown her the “Queen of Love and Beauty”

She knows Lena thanks her winning Knight with a kiss on the cheek

She knows all of this but she didn’t know ya know

She finds she’s distinctly unprepared for Lena’s face to be anywhere near her face

All Kara can do as she approaches Lena is hope desperately that she doesn’t look as nervous about a kiss on the cheek as she feels

(Alex never let’s her live it down after she hears the story)

Kara stops her horse next to the Royal Box as Lena rises to greet her

She’s sure it’s a trick of the lights that showed a flash of nerves across Lena’s face as well

Kara can feel her hands shaking as she places the crown on Lena’s head; she’s shocked her horse hasn’t picked up on her nerves as well

It’s only when Lena’s lips finally make contact with her cheek, close enough to the corner of her mouth to be felt, that Kara realizes she hasn’t been breathing

Kara sees the nerves clearly now, as Lena straightens back up to finish the show, so she does the only thing she can think to do in front of a packed arena

She catches Lena’s hand off the railing that separates them and plants her lips firmly to the back of it, blue eyes locked on Lena’s own green

The smiles they send each other would outshine the sun if given the chance before Lena shakes herself out of her daze to finally actually finish the show

After the show, after greeting the guests with their hands as good as glued together, they finally get back to their shared changing room

(An unexpected blessing and curse once there were two females needing a place to change for the shows)

Lena is barely in the door before she’s very much pinned against it by her very happy and very beautiful knight

They don’t outright tell anyone about the shift between them

James is the first to realize that when Kara wins, the kisses get closer and closer to real; he catches them both after a show and gives them a quick “congrats” and a wink before heading to change

Mike doesn’t clock onto the difference for when Kara wins but when he eventually finds out they’re dating he gives them a “right on” and high fives them both

Maxwell doesn’t notice anything because he doesn’t pay attention to parts of the show that don’t involve him; they very pointedly tell him absolutely nothing about themselves

If this was a real story and not me stream-of-consciousness-ing then Nia and Brainy would work at the gift shop

Also this is how I pictured Lena for the entirety of this:

#that dress will be the death of me someday #if there is a ‘sc work at medieval times au’ pls point me in its direction #this was supposed to be shorter whoops #why work on my wip when i can word vomit this instead #my feelings on medieval times vary week to week but i'm moving closer to one and found myself unable to think about anything else #supercorp #supercorp au #medieval supercorp #sorta #lena luthor #kara danvers

[smoochkooks]

—hymne a l’amour (m.)

⟶ pairing: park jimin/reader

⟶ genre: smut, fluff, tiny bits of angst

⟶ word count: 5.5k

⟶ summary: it’s valentine’s day and your boyfriend decides to surprise you in more ways than one. and when you’re dating park jimin, cocky, smart and obnoxiously good-looking archeologist, you can be sure of absolutely nothing.

⟶ warnings: dom!jimin, sub!reader, big dick!jimin, sir kink, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, ass slapping, dirty talk, use of degrading names, unprotected sex, mentions of jimin having a daddy kink, jimin being disgustingly sweet boyfriend, oc having at least 2 (two) mental breakdowns, cringy valentine’s day presents

this is eldorado valentine’s day special but it can be read as a standalone. enjoy! xx

Spending Valentine's Day in the city of Paris is like walking through the streets of Beijing and smelling the strong essence of soy sauce and chicken every time you take a breath.

Overwhelming.

(Or at least that's what you think is a good comparison, since you've never stood your foot in Beijing before.)

Paris seems to be on another level when it comes to celebrating Valentine's Day. It's because that's the city of love, someone may say, but no, my friend, it's not just that. French grammar isn't the only stupid thing about said country. Citizens are even weirder, in more ways than one. It's the Eiffel Tower and the smell of garlic that disguises it all when you first visit France.  

A week before February 14th, restaurants, cafees and grocery shops are all covered from head to toe in red hearts, chubby cupids, big teddy bears, various kinds of roses and, at the top of that – everywhere you focus your eyes on, you spot those huge inscriptions where words ‘love’ and ‘I love you’ are spelled in hundred different types of swirly fonts.

It's all too kitschy for your liking but tourists and locals don’t actually mind it even a bit. Once a year Paris turns into a set of the most cliché rom-com and no matter how irksome it might feel, you just have to survive this festival of boofonery.

You've always despised Valentine's Day with every fiber of your being (mostly because you hadn’t had anyone you could actually spend this day with) but your judgement took a sharp three-sixty turn when certain blond, charismatic man entered your life. Now, while you’re happily taken, a romantic dinner and a bouquet of red roses don’t sound that bad.  

But when you're dating someone like Park Jimin, a smart-ass, cocky and obnoxiously good-looking archeologist, you can be sure of abosultely nothing.  

It's a little past ten, you’re laying in your king-size bed, a day before the actual Valentine's Day. Jimin informed you he was going to be late for dinner because of some extra paperwork he had to do in the office, so you patiently wait for him. Wrapped like a fancy Christmas gift in a new pair of flimsy, lacy lingerie you recently bought in Victoria’s Secret, all hidden underneath Jimin's baggy t-shirt (the combination of casual and slutty never fails to drive him crazy). The set is cute, in a baby pink colour. The last time you pulled a move like this, Jimin went hard, literally and lyrically.

Let's just say that Park Jimin (and his dick) likes high-quality underwear.

Dating Jimin has taught you a few things, one of them being that his sex drive is insatiable, so you always need to be prepared. That’s why you're now laying here, on your bed, freshly shaved and smelling of coconut, your precious pussy ready to be worshipped by Jimin's mouth.  

When you hear the familiar jingle of keys and the door to your apartment swings open, you squeal in excitement, grabbing your phone from the nightstand to scroll through it mindlessly so you don’t come across a girl whose only purpose in life is to get dicked down by her boyfriend.

(Which, right now, is your only purpose.)

“Babe, I’m home!”

You hear Jimin pulling off his shoes and coat, so you shout back, “I’m in the bedroom!”

He seemed to be in a good mood in the morning and if nothing's changed, you're positive about getting some action tonight. A well-deserved orgasm after work it's all you crave. You squeeze your thighs, and wait.

“God, I’m so fucking exhausted.” Jimin announces upon entering the room and as soon as those words leave his mouth, he collapses face down onto the bed. His lifeless corpse smells like sweat mixed with his usual cologne and you wrinkle your nose in disgust.

And that’s on getting railed by your boyfriend tonight.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he murmurs after a moment, voice laced with tiredness. He grunts and lifts himself up to place a chaste kiss on your lips. He tastes like bitter coffee and it makes you cringe, but you kiss him back nonetheless. He pulls off too fast for your liking and nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck instead. He cuddles into your side, mumbling something about you feeling warm.

In your head, you count. When was the last time you two had sex? Right, last Tuesday. Oh boy, what a night it was. Your ass still hurts a little while sitting on a chair, a byproduct of your boyfriend's palm landing smack after smack on your cheeks. Lesson learned: never smile too broadly to the waiter who blatantly flirsts with you. You're sure the whole appartment complex heard that night who makes you feel that good  

(As if they don’t already know.)

See? Park Jimin is unpredictable.

“How was work?’’ you decide to ask instead, clearing your thoughts from the inappropriate images of Jimin’s bare body pressed to yours as he fucked you that night. You thread your fingers through his blond locks just the way he likes, massaging his scalp.

He sighs, his words muffled when he speaks. “This new employee can’t do shit. I had to prepare everything before tomorrow's expedition by myself,” he says. “I have to tell Namjoon to fire his ass.”  

You falter your movements for a second. Right, the expedition. You completely forgot about it. Jimin's going to be out of town for the whole day, digging in the soil in some French village the name of you cannot pronounce.

It looks like your fancy lingerie has to wait for her big premiere a little longer.  

“What time are you planning to be back home?” you ask.

“Dunno. Probably late.” Jimin exhales loudly, his breath tickling your neck. His hand travels to your nude thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. You fight back a moan that threatens to spill from you mouth. You really need to get laid soon. “We set off at 6am.” he adds, tracing circles on your bare skin. Your smile drops.

So the plans for morning sex on Valentine's Day stay where they belong. In your dreams.  

“You're so soft. And you smell like coconuts. I could stay like this forever.” Jimin mumbles, circling your waist with his arms and pulling you even closer to him.  

You sigh, basking in this situation just for a while, stroking Jimin's hair and listening to his steady breathing until he eventually falls asleep. Still fully clothed, still with his hand on your thigh. Carefully, so you don’t wake him up, you get up from the bed to take off your underwear. You do feel a little disappointed, but it's okay.  

When you settle yourself on the bed next to Jimin again, your back facing him, a strong arm pulls you flush to his body. You hear him sighing with relief, and it makes you smile to yourself.  

Lights off, everything can wait for tomorrow.

In the morning, just like expected, you wake up alone. There's no sight of Jimin, his side of the bed empty and cold. For your dismay, there’s no bouquet of red roses waiting for you in the kitchen, no box of chocolates or a small, cheesy note with your name written on it. Not even a short “Happy Valentine's Day, baby!” text on your phone. Absolutely nothing.  

You tells yourself it’s fine. Maybe Jimin didn’t have enough time, maybe he was too occupied with expedition to prepare something special, maybe the big surprise is yet to come. However, you can’t quite shake off the feeling that something do seem odd and it makes you anxious. Leaving without a single text is not Jimin's style. Not when it's your first Valentine's Day spend together.

You probably shouldn’t worry that much. It's not a big deal, after all you hate those types of annual holidays and Jimin knows it. Yet something about the whole situation makes you uncontrollably uneasy. You have never been like this, vulnerable and sheepish. You hate Park Jimin for turning you into such a softie.

Walking through the streets of Paris makes you feel nauseous. You look at all the happy couples sucking each others’ faces for everyone to see and fight an urge to gag. Someone shouts “Love is in the air!” and you almost throw up. Everytime you see someone holding heart-shaped balloons or flowers, you whip your head in other direction. It's nothing, you keep reminding yourself. A stupid holiday that doesn’t mean anything at all.

But the actual nail to the coffin happens to be the atmosphere in Eldorado headquarters. It drives you absolutely crazy.

It's 12am and still no word from Jimin. You checked: this bastard was online one hour ago, so he just doesn’t want to talk to you. Fine, mister. If this is how you wanna play, try sucking your dick by yourself, beacuse I’m not getting near it anytime soon, you think to yourself, filled with rage.

Yeri wiggles her pretty eyebrows at you and asks about your plans for tonight. You fake a giggle, saying that Jimin will probably surprise you with something when he gets back from his expedition. The words taste bitter on your tongue, especially when the high hopes you had simply melted away this morning. Your friend then starts babbling about the restaurant she's going to with Jungkook after work and you listen to her rant with forced smile on your face the whole time.

Meanwhile, a few meters away from you Hoseok is giggling like a teenager, typing something on his phone, without a doubt (sex)texting his girlfriend. She's out of town and you’re more than sure Hoseok hasn't gone to bathroom ten minutes ago just to take a piss. Even Namjoon is in a pleasant mood today, humming some old ABBA hits under his breath. Yesterday he couldn’t shut up about his date with a girl who’s also his new neighbour. He met her when she came by to give him homemade croissants. Ironically, that sounds a lot like some kdrama lovestory to you, and Namjoon hates kdramas.

During lunch time, you scroll through your Instagram and almost slam your phone on the wall. There's a new photo uploaded on Kim Seokjin's account.  

kimseokjin92: Celebrating Valentine's Day on Maldives w @minsuga #couplegoals #boyfriends #valentinesday #loveislove

They are on fucking Maldives. Fucking Maldives! You grit your teeth. It's fine. Completely fine.

But the absolute peek, the moment when you almost break down into tears and curl yourself into a ball of misery, comes in the person of Jeon Jungkook. He enters the office with a bouquet of the most beautiful red roses you have ever seen, a huge grin plastered on his stupid face.

Your heart clenches in your chest. Park Jimin could never.  

Jungkook hands Yeri the flowers and she laughs, slapping his chest when he starts declaiming Romeo's monologue from the Shakespeare’s tragedy. He then kisses his girlfriend deeply and lovingly, making her cheeks flush in crimson. Hoseok coos at them, Namjoon following him. You swear you saw Jungkook's tongue in the process of said heavy make out session.  

(Jealously is an awful emotion, you've decided a long time ago.)

An hour later, the bouquet stands proudly on Yeri’s desk and you stare at it with melancholy. You briefly avert your gaze to Jimin's desk and the memories flash before your eyes. The same desk he had you bent over, skirt bunched around your waist and cock drilling into your pussy, when you both stayed together at work after hours not so long ago.  

You mentally slap yourself. Get your shit together, woman. It's not like he broke up with you. It's just some stupid holiday. It's nothing.

“Something's wrong?’’ Yeri asks you with genuine concern written on her face.  

You swallow, forcing yourself to smile. “No, everything's fine. Just a headache.”  

She eyes you suspiciously. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” you say. Even though your friend doesn’t look convinced, she eventually stops bothering you.

It's all good. My boyfriend forgot about our first Valentine's Day together but everything's alright. No worries, you want to say instead.  

Later that day, when you exit the elevator and walk straight to your apartment, a strange smell of something burning fills your nostrils. Is that food? A real fire? No, that's definitely some meat that stayed too long in the oven.

The closer you are, the smell becomes stronger, like it’s actually coming from your apartment. You furrow your eyebrows.

“What the fuck.” you mutter to yourself.  

When you open the door, your jaw falls slack, eyes wide like saucers.

Never, in your entire life, had you thought  you would see Park Jimin, your own dearest boyfriend, popping out from the kitchen with his hair disheveled, sweat coating his forehead, wearing a black suit underneath the most ridiculous apron you have ever seen: pink with a big-ass ‘mr good lookin is cookin' written in the middle.  

(Can someone remind you why are you dating him? Oh, thank God he isn’t naked underneath.)

He looks completely lost when he spots you, waving awkwardly in your direction. It's probably the first time he touched something in the kitchen that isn’t coffee machine. He’s so flustered that you almost forget he nearly turned your apartment into ashes.

“Hi, babe.” he says sheepishly.

It takes all the willpower you hold not to spit a lung watching your boyfriend who absolutely hates cooking, trying to look unimpressed by the smell of burnt food. He does a pretty poor job though, an apron not helping in the situation.

“Happy Valentine's Day!’’ he exclaims perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, approaching you and planting a kiss on your cheek. And after that, you burst into hysterical laughter.  

(Seriously, you almost lose your own breath three times.)

Jimin looks terrified but most importantly – put out. You’re probably hurting his enormous, almost the size of Russia pride right now. (Not your fault Jimin has the biggest praise kink on the planet.)  

“Why are you laughing? Is it because of the chicken? Fine, I can’t cook for shit but I tried, okay? I didn’t have enough time and it was the middle of the night in Korea so I couldn’t just facetime my mum for advice and-”

You interrupt his rambling with a searing kiss, effectively shutting him up. He falters for a moment but quickly catches up, pulling you closer to him, placing his hands on your waist and deepening the kiss.  

But then, when his about to trail kisses down your throat, you hit his arm.

“What was that for?!” Jimin yelps, looking at you with astonishment.

“I thought you fucking forgot about the Valentine’s Day!” you yell, slapping his chest. “Why didn't you tell me about this?!”

“Because the definition of surprise says you can’t reveal it sooner?” he reponds in a mocking tone.

“Oh, shut up.” you grumble and pull him in for another kiss. You could feel him smiling into it, cheekily biting onto your lower lip. He places a loving peck on your forehead and brushes the strands of your hair behind your ears. There's so much affection in his eyes you could melt into a puddle right here and there.

“I’m sorry. Jungkook told me you looked upset the whole day.” he whispers.

“I wasn't!” you protest.

“He told me you almost cried when he gave Yeri a bouquet of red roses.”  

This stupid brat.

You look up at Jimin. “Fine. I was mad. And sad. Everyone was having the time of their lives and here I was, on a verge of mental breakdown because my idiot of a boyfriend supposedly forgot about the Valentine's Day.” you say, crossing your arms over chest with a pout.  

Jimin rolls his eyes and takes your hand, leading you to the living room, where a bottle of (your absolute favourite) wine is standing on the table, along with candles and, yes, red roses. It's too cheesy and straight from the cringy rom-coms but you don't mind, because it's Jimin and he poured his heart into this and it's all that matters.

When he approaches you again, he isn’t wearing that stupid apron and you blush at how perfect he looks, almost painfully handsome. His hair needs a cut so it’s pushed back from his forehead. God reincarnated in the form of a smart, cocky archeologist who happens to be your boyfriend.

You're, well, in your black jeans and baby blue sweater and you probably stink, but Jimin assures you with his loving touches he doesn’t mind, never will. He always does that, looking at you with those sparkling eyes which say you're the most beautiful thing in the world for him.

And it doesn't matter how many times you scold him throughout the day, how many banters you have over silly things, because at the end of the day, in each others’ embraces, it feels like home for the both of you.

“Since the chicken chickened out,” Jimin says nonchalantly, filling your glasses with red wine. “We can always get drunk and watch some old romantic movies.”

You smirk. “You cried the last time when we watched ‘When Harry met Sally’.”  

Jimin clicks his tongue. “Don't test my patience, sweetheart or you won't get the presents.” he warns.

You raise your eyebrows. You hope one of them comes in the form of his dick. Suddenly, you’re reminded of your lingerie set, so you make a mental note to wear it after the shower. “Can I see those presents now?” you ask, looking at Jimin with pleading eyes. It's exactly three seconds till he softens.  

“Fine.” he mutters and heads to the bedroom.

When he comes back, he’s not alone. Literally not alone, because he's caring the most hilarious Valentine’s present you could ever think of. A giant, white teddy bear, almost in the size of him, heart-shaped balloons attached to his right paw.

“This is,” Jimin whips his head to read the name on the bear's chest. “Ted.”  

You blink. “You bought me a teddy bear named Ted?”  

Jimin opens his mouth to say some witty comment but he stops when he hears you sob. “Baby, sweetheart, what's wrong?” He kneels in front of you, the bear long forgotten on the floor. You burst into tears and Jimin tries to calm you down, rubbing soothing circles on your thighs.

Once you eventually stop crying and regain your normal breathing, you wipe your tear-strained cheeks and look down at your very much worried boyfriend. “You are an idiot, Park Jimin. A fucking idiot. That teddy bear is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen and I should humiliate you for giving me that but...” You take a deep breath. “But I can’t. Because I fucking love you, dumbass.”

The corners of Jimin lips lift in amusement but you’re clearly not done with your little speech, so he waits until you finish. “You organized the most cliché date ever. You read all the Grey's books. You can’t cook for shit and this stupid apron you wore? God have mercy,” You visibly cringe. “You declaim Greek philosophers when you shower. Fuck, you persuaded me to do teacher-student roleplay and I kept calling you daddy during the whole thing because you asked me to. You are everything I despise but at the same time I love you so much,” you say, tears once again welling in your eyes. “I’m sorry I’m telling you this now, even though I've realised this a long time ago.”

Jimin’s silent, so unlike him, declaring his emotions with a huge grin this time. He stands up and picks your body into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you both to your bedroom. He places you gingerly onto the mattress, hovering over your figure.

(Your fancy lingerie can wait for another occasion.)

“I love you too, ___.” he says, staring into your eyes. “You’re making me the happiest man in this world.”  

You roll your eyes, however there’s no use for that because your cheeks are already tainted red. “Oh, stop being such a sap.”  

He smirks. “You love when I’m like this.”  

“That is, in fact, not true.”  

You’re lying and he knows it, but he always lets you banter with him like this anyway.  

“Then what do you want me to be today?” he asks, his hands travel down to your zipper, then pull down your jeans. “Sweet? Loving?” He helps you take off your sweater and you’re left with nothing on beside your underwear. “Or do you want me to be rough? Push you around and fuck you stupid?” You gulp, your attitude successfully shut down. “Come on, use your words.”  

Somehow, you manage to gain your composure. “Want you to take off your clothes first.”  

Jimin chuckles, lowly and with a promise of more to come if you’re patient and behaving well, according to his commands. “You’re not the one to give orders here, baby.” he retorts. Then, he’s gripping your knees, pulling your legs apart and putting your pussy on full display for him.  

There’s already a dark, wet patch forming on your grey panties and he tsks disapprovingly. “You’re wet and I haven’t even touched you yet. You want it that much, huh?”  

You nod. “Please, touch me.”  

“Try again.”  

So he’s in that mood today. You’ve explored a fair share of kinks with Jimin so far and what you know for sure is that he always takes the leading role in bed. He likes to dominate, be the one in charge, railing you into the mattress until you’re crying out so loud your neighbours are banging on your walls.  

You slip into your role naturally, your usual confident behaviour gone and replaced with timidity. He relishes in seeing you like this, helpless and vulnerable, a stark contrast to how you act on daily basis.  

Jimin pins you with his dark stare and you give in. ‘”Yes, sir.”  

“Good girl.”  

He rewards you with a feather-like touch of his fingers on your pussy. He finds your clit with ease, rubbing it with practiced strokes until more juices drip down from your hole, wetting your panties embarrassingly fast. Your legs shake with want for more, to feel him sink his digits knuckle-deep into your cunt and finger you like he did that one time in a bathroom on your flight to Japan.  

He doesn’t seem the slightest bothered with your state, ignoring your pleading eyes and wanton moans. He hasn’t even taken off your underwear yet and you’re already on the verge of an orgasm.  

Jimin knows your body inside and out, probably better than you do, so it doesn’t come as a surprise to you that he can sense when you’re about to climax. He withdraws his hand from your center seconds before your release. You can’t help but huff with annoyance.

“Something's wrong, babygirl?” he asks, saccharine-sweet and annoyingly innocent.  

Your retort dies on your tongue the moment he decides to unbutton his white dress shirt. You’re too distracted with delicious lines of his sculpted chest to complain about your denied pleasure anymore. Your hands itch to touch him but you stay immobile, devouring him with your eyes instead.  

Jimin notices you're staring and smirks. “Like what you see?”  

You nod. “Yes, sir.”  

He then stands up from the bed and motions for you to come closer. You oblige without an ounce of confusion, crawling until you’re sitting on your heels in front of him. It’s a rather humiliating position but you can’t help but feel the rush of adrenaline in your veins when he cups your chin and tilts your head up.  

“Take off my pants.”  

You rush to obey, unbuckling his belt with shaky hands because you know what’s coming next once his pants are pulled down. He’s already hard, the prominent bulge of his cock straining in his briefs.  

“Now my underwear.”  

You nearly moan out loud when his cock slaps his abdomen, mouth salivating to take him in deep but you don’t dare touch him without a directed instruction. He makes sure your eyes are on him and starts stroking himself, spreading the precum all over his length, hissing when his thumb rubs the sensitive head of his cock.  

Jimin groans, low and throaty, and you whimper quietly in response. “What, baby? You want my cock that much?” he asks, his left palm cupping your cheek. You whisper a meek “Please” and he chuckles. “Come on then. Show me what that slutty mouth of yours can do. Open up.”  

Your lips part on command and you nearly moan when he guides his cock into your mouth. You’ve sucked Jimin's dick enough times to know what he likes, what brings him to the edge quicker than hitting the back of your throat. You lick the tip of his cock, eyes darting to check his reaction and, just as you expected, his features twist in pleasure.  

You relish in a minute or two of the control you have over him before he grows bored with your teasing and decides to fuck your mouth instead. But for now, you make sure to have him suffer a little for that stunt he pulled earlier when he didn’t make you come.  

You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks for extra stimulation. Your hands reach to fondle his balls and you smirk around his cock when you hear a groan leave Jimin's mouth. “Good girl,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek. You lean into his touch, moaning at the praise. “My pretty slut.”  

The first hit on the back of your throat makes you gag because fuck, is he big. The only thing bigger than Jimin's ego seems to be his dick, apparently. When he threads fis fingers through your hair you know what’s about to come; jaw relaxed, saliva dripping down from the corners of your mouth, you’re ready to be ruined.  

He withdraws, giving you exactly five seconds to breathe and then pushes forcefully inside. Your mind is filled with mental images of him giving your pussy the same treatment later. You would whimper at the thought, if your mouth wasn’t stuffed full of dick. Instead, you give your best, swallowing every inch of him obediently.  

“That’s it,” he rasps, clamping one hand on the back of your neck for better leverage. “You’re doing so good, baby.” When he nudges the back of your throat again, you feel him throb. He pulls away from the warmth of your mouth seconds later, panting heavily. He falls back onto the bed and pats his thighs. “Come here.”  

You scoot closer to him and crawl onto his lap. He smiles at you from below, pulling you in for a kiss. The hands he previously gripped your waist with now travel upwards, unhooking your bra. Your hips unconsciously move, pussy gliding along the flexed muscles of his thigh.  

Jimin notices your desperate attempt at getting some friction on your most sensitive parts and helps you rock your hips. He moves your panties to the side and you moan, felling the delicious pressure on your bare center. He’s watching with amusement as you’re falling apart on his thigh, thumb reaching to rub your clit. You cry out, climaxing so hard you’re almost seeing stars behind your closed eyelids.

He keeps helping you ride out your high until you’re whimpering from the overstimulation. “Did you like it?” he then asks, urging you to look at him. “You were so desperate to come, sweetheart. Fucking yourself on my thigh like a bitch in heat,” You whine instead of responding, earning a harsh smack on your ass. “Use your words.”  

Another slap lands on your cheek and you mewl. “Yes, I loved it, sir.”  

He chuckles, maneuvering your body so you’re now positioned over his cock. He gives your ass a firm squeeze and you whimper, arousal dripping down the inside of your thighs despite orgasming just minutes ago. “Ride me, baby.” he says.  

You hurry to obey, guiding his cock inside you. It's a tight fit but your wetness makes it smoother to push him deeper. “So big,” you mumble, bottoming out. You know damn well Jimin likes to be praised and if the smirk that stretches on his lips is anything to go by, he enjoys what you just said. “That feels so good, sir.” You start moving your hips languidly.  

“Yeah?” Jimin quips, hands gripping your waist so tightly it almost makes the skin bruise. “Then show me what a good girl you are for me. Fuck, look at you. You’re so hot.” His palms cup your breasts, thumbs stroking your nipples.  

You keen at the praise and quicken your pace. Your thighs start to burn but you ignore that, bouncing on your boyfriend’s dick like there’s no tomorrow. The room is filled with lewd noises, skin slapping on skin. Jimin looks down, staring at his cock coated in your juices as it disappears inside your hole. He curses at the sight.  

Your legs start to shake, huffs leaving your lips. “Sir–please,” you whine, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.  

“What do you need, babygirl?” he asks, pinching your nipples. You squeal, your pace losing its previous rhythm.  

“I’m so close.” you stammer. “Please–touch me.”  

“Where you do you want me to touch you, baby?” He ignores your whimpers, the way your pussy keeps squeezing his cock in a vice grip. “Here?” He touches your tits again and you shake your head violently. “Or here–” His fingers find your clit and you cry out loudly. You feel so full, his cock hits your cervix every time you drop down onto him.

“Yes, yes,” you chant, mouth wide open and eyes squeezed shut. You probably look right now like a professional porn star but you couldn’t care less, not when you’re so close to the climax. “Sir–fuckfuckfuck, please!”

“There you go,” Jimin coos, circling your sensitive bud with his thumb. “Come for me, baby.”  

You’re gushing around his dick, arousal leaking out of your hole and coating his thighs with your release. Your upper body gives out and you collapse onto Jimin, your cunt pulsing from the intense pleasure you’ve just experienced.  

“Oh god,” you mumble. “I just saw the answer to the whole universe.”  

You feel Jimin's chest shaking with laughter and when you look up, you find him grinning at you. “That good?”  

“That good.” you confirm, sighing tiredly.  

“Are you okay?” You hear him asking. No matter how much he likes to push you around and fuck until you’re seeing stars, he always makes sure if you’re feeling comfortable to continue.  

You spare him a nod. “You know I can handle it,” you say, lifting yourself up. “I’m a tough girl, right?” Despite the oversensitivity, you start rocking your hips again. “M-made for you.”

Jimin smirks. “Yeah, made for me,” he confirms and slaps your ass. Your pussy flatters around his cock. “Not like this,” he mutters and turns you onto your back with one, swift motion. “Much better.”  

You pout. “You didn’t like it when I was riding your cock, sir?” You’re bluffing, but a girl can her fun too.  

He clicks his tongue, guiding his cock through your folds again. “Oh, baby, I was enjoying it very much,” he says, picking up his speed. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer. “But now I want it harder.”  

He fucks you just like he likes the most; fast and rough, unforgiving. He leans down for a messy kiss that’s all teeth tongue and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees his saliva dripping down your chin.  

(He decides right here and there that he might wanna explore his newfound fantasy soon.)

Soon you’re feeling the coil in your stomach tightening for the second time, embarrassingly quickly so. You moan, cunt squeezing around his dick. “Again?” Jimin asks, voice laced with both mirth and disbelief. Tears well in your eyes and you give him a nod. “Such a fucking slut.” he spits, slithering himself into you even faster than before.

Your third and final orgasm is so powerful and sudden, it nearly makes you black out. Jimin curses, fucking you through it. “Kiss me,” you whimper deliriously and he obliges, slipping his tongue inside your mouth. “I love you.” you whisper into his lips and that’s what sends him over the edge.

“I love you, I love you–fuck.” he groans and spills himself inside, coating your pussy with his seed.

He collapses next you, chest heaving with every exhale. Your legs feel like jelly and you know you’ll have trouble walking tomorrow. Just when you’re about to tell Jimin to call in sick and spend the whole day in bed instead, he suddenly sits up.

“Wait, I forgot I have another present for us.” he says, rushing to pick something up from underneath the bed.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Jimin, I swear to God, if you bought us matching t-shirts–”

He grins like a child, showing you two white pillows, the most basic ones you could ever think of, with ‘his side’ and ‘her side' written on them. It's cringy and ridiculous and you fight an urge to punch him, but you don't.  

Because it's Jimin and you will never complain about it.

Because you love him. And that's all that matters.

#jimin smut #btsbookclub #btswritingcafe #ksmutclub #btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #smutcentralnet #bangtanhq #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin fluff #bts smut #my writing

[xmint-conditionx]

tongue tied | myg

pairing: yoongi x reader, f2l

w/c: 3.5k

summary: you've been best friends with yoongi for almost a decade, and you're hopelessly in love with him. he's the most important person in your life, and you don't want to mess that up, so you can never be anything more... right?

written as a response to a request from the old blog -- the requestor was @yoongi--enthusiast; thanks again for your request, i loved doing it!!! "I had an idea... something based off of the song “tongue tied” with yoongi. I feel like it would be super soft with soft smut... I just think it would be nice to read so can you please wright it 🥺👉👈"

tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, outdoor sex, overall a little angsty but super cute too

a/n: i did not know that there was a song called tongue tied by marshmello before i wrote this so... i hope the person who requested this didn’t mean that song because I wrote this drabble over the grouplove song lmaooo but anyway, here goes! thanks luv, enjoy! also reposted from the old blog!!

Yoongi’s laugh is so beautiful. It’s rare, so when you see it, you soak up everything you can about it. The way his eyes crinkle up into crescent moons, the way his lips curl back putting his gummy smile on bright display. You can swear you see his eyes sparkle.

You are in love with him. You are in love with your best friend.

He makes loving him such an easy thing to do; bringing you into his inner world, showing you the sweet and warm center he conceals from everyone else. The way he looks at you, the way he says your name, the way he pouts when he wants a back scratch, all of those little things that make him who he is only deepen your infatuation with him.

You’re with him again this Friday night, making the drive to Bom’s house. It’s been a long week for the both of you; he’s been wrapped up in producing a track and you’ve been nose deep in college textbooks. His track is completed, and your exams are over. It’s safe to say that you both could use a good break.

It’s the end of the spring semester and the weather is going to be gorgeous tonight. The racing summer breeze coming through the open car windows is exhilarating. The sun is setting, and the warm evening light on Yoongi’s dewy skin makes him appear absolutely radiant as he navigates the highway.

You’re just listening to fun little summer jams as you speed off toward the city’s suburbs. Ones with funky little basslines that are easy to groove and sing along to. Ones that make you shout and laugh into the rushing wind. Ones that make you drink in the moment you’re having with Yoongi; ones that make you soak up all of his joy.

And when he steals a sly look your way, one hand still on the top of the steering wheel, you can swear your heart stops.

You’ve loved him as long as you can remember really knowing him. Since you were both 12, bonding over games of tag and basketball and the spilling of secrets to each other. You’d sit beneath the big tree in his backyard and share the snacks you’d bought at the corner store. He’d always let you have the last chocolate.

The only secret you’ve ever kept from Yoongi is the matter of your infatuation, and you are pretty resolute in keeping it that way.

He is the single most important person in your life. He had been there with you through it all; when your parents split up at 13, when your dad got you your first car at 15, when your long time boyfriend cheated on you at 16, when your dream college denied you at 17, when you got a full ride scholarship to a smaller university outside of the city right after that, when you were drugged at a house party at 20, when you were diagnosed with depression at 21, and when you were accepted into your masters program at 22.

You needed him, and because of that, you could never tell him.

You pull into the gates that surround Bom’s neighborhood. Her parents are pretty wealthy, so they live on a golf course. As you pull up into the driveway, you see some other students milling about, catching Frisbee. There’s Eunha, Ireum, Ji-Ah, and Miyeun that you recognize from some of your classes, but there are a few more that you’ve never met.

After a few rounds of drinks and a few lost games of flip cup, you all head outside to the back patio with all of your schoolwork from the year. Bom turns on the bluetooth speaker and sets it on the railing. You take in the night air and gaze up at the sky, wishing there was a shooting star to wish upon.

“Alright, everyone,” Bom begins, “essays and lab reports first, then tests, then miscellaneous homework.” Yoongi helps you dig through your stack to fish out the cursed papers. You all toss the stapled packages into the fire pit, one by one, each hitting with a soft thud. Once everyone has thrown their woes into the pit, Bom tops it with actual firewood and unceremoniously sets the whole lot of it on fire. You gaze into the center of the flame, watching your entire year catch fire. All the hours you spent doing that research project, all the disappointment when your group members wouldn’t follow through. Gone, like it never existed.

Yoongi’s holding your hand in his, and he’s busy drawing little circles with his thumb on your palm. Your head rests soundly on his shoulder, and you sigh into him, comfortable in where you are. The whole group piles in more papers, as you lament about the shitty professors and the shitty group projects and the shitty caf’ food and the shitty grades. Yoongi turns into you and nuzzles gently on your forehead. You feel his soft lips graze your temple, breath warm on your skin, tingles rising through your body, and you’re right where you want to be. Under the moon’s gaze with the person you love.

Before long, the breeze sends a chill through you that even the fire won’t remedy. Yoongi feels your shiver and unceremoniously removes his hoodie and puts it on over you, pulling up the hood and kissing your forehead. You always love when you wear his jackets; they surround you in his warmth, his smell. A smile plays across your lips until you notice Yoongi’s goosebumps.

“Hey,” you pout, “I don't wanna wear this if you’re gonna be cold.”

“I don’t wanna wear it if you’re gonna be cold,” he snaps back, smiling.

“Here,” you say, standing up from your deck chair. You take the step to get you to Yoongi’s chair, and sit in his lap. “This way we can both be warm, yeah?”

It takes him a second, but he wraps his arms firmly around you again, mumbling a “yeah, that’s fine” when you glance at him over your shoulder.

Your attention is called back to the group with Bom asks if you’re going to the Summer Romance Festival by the river next weekend. She’s been pushing you to get yourself out there more. The last time you were in a real relationship was high school, after all.

“I’d love to go; I hear they have the most beautiful fireworks display,” you start, “but I don’t think I will this year.”

“Well,” Bom says, “Why not?!”

“Because I don’t have a date, Bom!” you say, covering your face in the sweater paws you’ve made from Yoongi’s hoodie. “I don’t think I could find one in enough time.”

“Ya, just get Yoongi to go with you! You already do everything together anyway,” Eunha quips.

You notice that the steady rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest has stopped.

“Hey, you know we’re just friends, right Yoongi?” you look to him for backup.

The man nods, looking down and to the left.

“Okay,” Ireum speaks up, “In that case, do you want to go with me?”

“Wait, what?” you say.

“Do you want to go to the Summer Romance Festival with me? As a date?”

Yoongi tenses beneath you.

“Oh, I don’t know…” you breathe, “Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent. We can even get dinner before we go. Not too much, though. I’ll want to get us a treat from one of the dessert stalls.” Ireum says with a soft smile.

“Yeah,” you say, smiling back at him, “Okay. We’ll go together.”

Yoongi stirs beneath you. “Hey, can you get off of me?”

“What, why?” you pout.

“I said get off.”

“Yoongi, wh--”

He doesn’t wait for you to finish before he abruptly stands up, forcing you to catch yourself. When you look back at him, he’s walking toward the French doors that lead back into the house.

“Ya! What was that about?”

He keeps walking. You storm after him and slam the door, trapping you both inside.

“Yoongi, I’m talking to you! What’s your fucking problem?”

He whirs around.

“Oh, I have a problem?”

“Well, it sure seems like it.” you spit back, hands on your hips.

“Why don’t you go talk about it with your date, huh?” he says, gesturing out the window to Ireum. “Don’t you have some details to work out? He gonna pick you up? You gonna let him hold your hand? On your nice little extra special romantic date? I guess I’ll just fuck right off and leave you two alone, yeah? That’s what you want, cause we’re just friends and all.”

“Yoongi, we… are friends! You’re my best friend!”

“Did you ever for a second think that I could want more?”

“What?!”

“I fucking love you, Y/N! Isn’t it obvious?! I’ve loved you since the 7th grade. You remember when we played spin the bottle at Ha-joon’s house? Do you remember when you kissed me?”

“Yoongi…”

“No, let me finish. Do you remember the frat party we crashed junior year? Remember when we got up onto the roof and made out until we fell asleep? And then you weren't there when I woke up so I walked back to my dorm and then we just pretended it never happened? What the fuck was that, Y/N?!”

You reach for his arm, but he backs up, flinching away from you.

“I am so in love with you it hurts!”

“Yoongi.”

“But I guess if that guy can make you happy, then whatever,” he sighs.

“Yoongi.”

“Go on your little date and have fun and I’ll just go write some more goddamn songs about you--”

“Yoongi!”

He stills, pain flashing through his eyes.

“Yoongi,” you say quietly, easing toward him, “I had no idea. I left the roof to go inside and get you some water. When I came back, you were gone. You had been drinking a lot that night… and I felt really bad because… I thought I had taken advantage of you… Ever since I first kissed you at Ha-joon’s house, I wanted to do it again. And again. And, you looked so good that night and up on the roof when you were laughing about the quarterback I just… I couldn't hold myself back anymore. I thought surely you didn’t want to actually be kissing me.”

“Why the fuck would I have kissed you back, then?”

“You were drunk, and I--” you’re cut off when he grabs your wrist.“I have wanted to kiss you every time I’ve seen you since you first kissed me,” he says, glancing down at your lips. ”I want to kiss you right now.”

You take no time in closing the distance between the two of you, your lips crashing desperately. You’ve tasted his kiss before, but this time feels different. His hands are winding through your hair, pulling you deeper into his kiss. You moan against his mouth, and he responds with his tongue teasing your lips, asking for entry. You grant it, and he explores. One of his hands holds your jaw, the other still intertwined with your hair. His tongue runs along your bottom lip before he sucks it in, drawing out a small whimper from you. Taking his hand from your jaw, he runs it down your neck and décolleté and then down over your stomach and latches it on your hip, sinking his fingers into your skin. He gives your hair a small tug, just enough to break the kiss and expose your neck. He breaks off and trails kisses up your jawline and then onto your neck, speaking in between kisses.

“You have… no idea how… much I’ve… wanted to tell… you everything,” he breathes onto your neck, and you feel a heat pooling in your panties.

“Please, Yoongi…” you say as you begin to run one hand under his shirt. He stops kissing and looks up at you with the softest expression.

“What is it?” he asks as he grabs both of your hands in his, bringing one of them up to his mouth to sprinkle kisses along your fingers.

“You…” you begin and sigh, “you have no idea how much I want you.”

He stills.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to, I’m sorry, I just…” he trails off, eyes getting lost in the way his jacket is draped on your figure.

Him eyeing you up doesn’t make it any better.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you say, eyes pleading up at him. “I’m tired of waiting.”

After a beat, he sighs.

“Neither of us are waiting another minute,” he says, landing a quick peck on your lips and going across the room to the couch, grabbing the throw blanket that rests on the arm.

“Come on, I have an idea,” he says, grabbing your arm and leading you out of the front door, across the street, through someone’s back yard until you reach the top of a hill on the side of a fairway. You watch as he scans the area, holding the blanket tight. His gaze lingers on two hills near the green of whatever hole this is, where there are a few more trees and hills to block you from the sightline of those second story windows. He looks at you, eyes asking the question. You smile and nod, and that’s all he needs.

He tugs your hand and you both go running down the fairway, laughing along the way. Once you reach your spot, he quickly puts down the blanket and lays on it. You’re still standing at his feet, hands fiddling with the ends of the jacket sleeves.

He smiles up at you and holds his arms up in your direction and says, “come here, beautiful,” while doing little grabby hands.

You slowly walk up to where he’s laying and sit on top of his hips, feeling how hard he already is. His hand rests on your hip underneath the fabric of his jacket, the other holding the side of your face.

“Let me see you,” he says with a tinge of whine in his voice, and that gives you an idea.

You reach under the still zipped jacket and fiddle around. Yoongi looks up at you befuddled, the corners of his lips turning down slightly as he tries to figure out what’s going on. When your hands emerge, one is holding your strapless bra and the other is holding the halter top you had been wearing. You can’t believe you managed to unzip the back by yourself.

You throw the garments to the side, and watch as understanding hits his face. His eyes glaze over and he licks his lips, clearly shaken up by your little trick.

He carefully dips his fingers below the waistband of your shorts and eases them down. You put your weight on him and give him a few kisses as he continues to move them down your legs. Once they too have been tossed to the side, you sit back up, lips red and swollen from the kiss.

He gently reaches up to the zipper of the jacket and begins to slowly pull it down, letting the cool night air in. You feel your nipples harden at the exposure to both the night air and Yoongi’s hungry eyes. He swallows and licks his lips as he runs his eyes over every new inch of you that is revealed. Memorizing your form, your perked nipples, the way your chest rises with each anxious breath.

He reaches back up to the collar and eases one shoulder of fabric off. You move to take the rest off despite the cold, but he stills your hand with his.

“Keep it on, please. I love seeing you wear my clothes,” Yoongi says, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing them against his knuckles as you slowly grind your still covered core on his length. He groans in frustration, his pants getting tighter. You let go of his hand and run your fingers up beneath his white cotton v-neck, his ab muscles flinching under your touch. You help him remove his shirt, taking in the way his pale skin shines under the moonlight.

Seeing you look at him makes his cock twitch in his pants, and you think it’s time to provide him some relief.

You scoot back and start to undo his belt, getting low and staring up at him through your lashes. His breath hitches when you make eye contact with him, and then it starts to pick up as you undo the button and zipper. You shimmy down the denim, but leave his black boxer-briefs where they are.

You come back up to the waistband after releasing his jeans, and you take the elastic in between your teeth. You tug them down with your teeth while your hands pull them on the sides. His erection springs free, and he sucks in a fast breath when his cock meets the cool air. You take the opportunity to let your warm breath ghost over his throbbing cock, coaxing a deep groan from Yoongi. He puts his hand to your cheek, and you look up to meet his gaze.

“I don’t think I can last if you put me in your mouth, baby girl. We can do head next time,” Yoongi says, and your heart soars at the pet name. You ease back up so that you’re straddling him once more, and reflexively start to grind on him again.

“Please let me take care of you. Look how wet you are,” he says, running his fingers over your clothed slit, dipping one finger in to collect a bit of slick. He tastes his finger and says. “Yeah, we’re definitely going to need to do head next time.”

You blush at the thought of him buried between your thighs, vulgarly slurping up everything you have to give him. You clench just thinking about it, and Yoongi notices. He pulls your panties to the side, takes the head of his cock and presses it to your clit, teasing your entrance. His precum mixes with your wetness, and you can’t resist him any more. You’ve resisted him for years, and you’re done.

You slowly ease yourself down on his cock, only making it halfway down before you have to wait for you to adjust. You both look at each other; Yoongi’s jaw is set and his eyebrows are furrowed together. Your mouth drops open as you raise and lower yourself again, feeling the delicious stretch that accompanies it. You bottom out and begin setting a slow and gentle pace.

Your body is rolling steadily, moonlight creating beautiful shadows on your body as you take him in over and over. As many times as you’ve dreamed of this, you still didn’t fathom it being this good or it feeling this right.

Yoongi is everything you had imagined he would be and then some. The way he is looking up at you, the way his soft little moans escape every time you bottom out, the way his eyebrows furrow together at the sight of your dripping heat enveloping him. Perfection.

He takes his hands and trails them up the curve of your waist, stopping just below your breasts. He runs his thumbs over your nipples, making you shudder and arch your back, pushing your chest into his hands. He palms them, kneading little circles around your areolas.

You lean forward, putting your weight on him again, and he meets you eagerly with another kiss. He wraps his arms around your back, keeping himself under the jacket, and you pick up the rhythm. Yoongi scratches his nails all the way down your back. Once he gets to your ass, he cups it, squeezing gently. You place your forehead against his, and your eyes meet.

“Y/N,” he whispers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “you look so beautiful on top of me like this. Please let me see this sight for the rest of my life.” You whimper at the praise, and pick up the pace.

“Please,” he continues, small grunts mixing in with his words, “Don’t wake up tomorrow and pretend like this never happened. Please... don’t break my heart,” he pleads.

“Not a chance, Yoon. I can never let you go. You’re everything to me. You’ve always been.”

“Baby, I am so close. Can I--”

“Come with me, Yoongi. Let’s do it together,” you say. Yoongi’s hands are on your hips and he’s thrusting up into you with an unrelenting pace. At this angle, you can feel his head graze against your cervix with each thrust, sending white spots in your vision.

You both reach your end at the same time, breaths mingling as you come down from your highs. You lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat gradually slow. He presses a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head and sighs into your hair.

“So…” he begins, “do you wanna go to the festival with me?” Yoongi asks.

“Are you gonna pick me up? Let me hold your hand? Have a nice little special romantic date?” you fire back, trying your best to sound like him. You sit up on your arm, letting your hair hang over to one side, and watch the light dance in his eyes as he laughs.

“Yeah,” he laughs, “I might even get us a little snack from one of the desert vendors.”

#bts smut #bts smut reactions #bts smut one shot #bts fanfiction #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #yoongi x you #yoongi smut one shot #soft!yoongi #yoongi--enthusiast #send me requests

[littlemissnoname13]

Wisps of Smoke (Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader) - Part four

Summary: Y/n and Draco find themselves drawn to an abandoned classroom every night

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!Reader ft. Pansy Parkinson, Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini

Warnings: Excessive smoking, Drinking, mature language and themes, sex, masturbation, 18+ content, reader discretion is highly advised

A/n: as always, thank you for reading WOS. This story has gotten so close to my heart over the last few weeks of writing it and I am grateful for every one that read part 1,2,3. And to everyone who guessed the Astoria plot line, Damn ya’ll are too good! 

I’d like to stress that smoking is injurious to health.

Word count: almost 4000

Part One, two & three if you haven’t caught up already

Thursday (Continued)

With his palms resting flat on the shower wall and his grey eyes fixed on the floor below, Draco allowed the lukewarm water to trail down his body and calm his nerves. 

Between the restlessness he’d felt after his father’s visit and the stinging feeling of remembering just what was expected of him, he’d barely managed to sleep a wink for three consecutive nights.

And how could he have gone to sleep when he knew you were in that classroom—waiting for him in your silky little dress. 

Oh..wait a minute. 

He smirked to himself when he remembered that he had destroyed the top half of your dress in an attempt to tug it off your shoulders. 

You looked absolutely stunning with the bottom half of your dress pushed back as you spread your legs wide open on top of a classroom desk—he had fucked you so fucking hard that day. 

Draco wrapped his hand around his length and began to pump slowly as he recalled the way you wrapped your legs around his torso as he moved in and out of you.

Your moans. 

He wondered if you were even aware of the effect your moans had on him. 

The way his name slipped out of your cherry lips and the way your tits bounced with every thrust only made him want to drive deeper into you. 

He let out a sharp grunt as he started to pump harder, fantasising about all the places he’d fuck you in.

He’d press you up against the shower wall and push himself deep into your cunt from behind, he’d lay you down on his desk and eat you out till you were a quivering mess before driving in and out of you, he would bend you over one of the common room sofas and fuck you so hard and fast if he ever got the chance to. 

He’d make you cum time and again till you were sore and dripping with his release—fuck. 

Draco let his high take all over him for a brief moment before opening his eyes when he heard his dresser drawer creak. 

He dismissed the strange sound and washed the remaining soap from his body before stepping out and towel drying his hair. 

“Draco! Y/n is here to see you.”  

Astoria? What on earth is she doing here? This can’t be good.

He frantically wrapped the towel around his torso and stepped outside the bathroom.

“Y/n what are you doing here?” He asked, observing the eye bags under your eyes. You were wearing a loose fitted white shirt with the sleeves pushed back and the top two buttons undone.

If Astoria wasn’t gaping at the exchange between the two of you, he would have had you pinned against the wall already. 

“I—I Just—” you began but before you could reach the end of your sentence, Theo jogged up to his door and stood right next to you, panting.

“Oh, you’re all here.Good.” He said with excitement saturated into his voice. “Apparently, there’s a party this Saturday night in the room of requirement and we are going—I am not taking no for an answer.” 

“That sounds like so much fun.” Astoria grinned and looked at Draco expectantly,making your stomach twist.

“It’s not like we have a choice.” Draco muttered still looking at you while Astoria beamed at him. 

“So, Y/n you were saying something?” Astoria politely turning the conversation back to you.

“I actually just came in here to talk about the party too.” You lied looking Draco directly in the eye.

Friday

Even though you were walking to class while bumping into a sea of students, your head was somewhere else. 

But of course Malfoy was sleeping around with other girls!

How could you have forgotten?! Maybe he was shagging Astoria outside that classroom the other nig—

“Going somewhere?” Draco asked as soon as he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into a gap in the corridor. 

“Yes, Away from you!” You spat angrily. “And I don’t appreciate you lurking around, pushing me into a wall every chance you get.”

“I just needed to talk to you y/l/n.”

“About what? Your girlfriend?” You blurted, instantly regretting your decision.

“She is not my girlfriend.”

“Oh yeah? Then what is she?!” 

What you heard next made the ground crumble from beneath you and you couldn’t help but wish you had paid more attention to your mother’s letters—especially the one about the announcement at the New year’s ball. 

~~~~~~~⚜️~~~~~~

Dear Y/n,

Your father and I are looking forward to having you back home for Christmas. 

It will give us some quiet family time before the New Year’s Ball hosted by the Malfoys. I’ve heard it through the grapevine that young Malfoy is getting betrothed to one of the Greengrass sisters and they will officially be announcing the betrothal that night. 

Isn’t that absolutely fantastic?  

Let me know what sort of dress robe you’d like to wear to the Ball this year. I will make necessary arrangements. 

Send my regards to Adrian. 

Love,

Mum

~~~~~~~⚜️~~~~~~~

Saturday

Vodka always tasted unpleasant to say the least. In fact, it burned. 

But it burned a lot less than the burn you felt watching Astoria reclining against Draco across the room.

Vodka always gave the worst type of hangover and with every gulp, you knew you were on a steady path to a regretful morning after. 

But the morning after drowning yourself in unadulterated vodka shots was better than watching the soon to be Fiancé of the boy you were slowly harbouring feelings for wear his blazer on top of her silver sequinned dress. 

What kind of a deranged person gets jealous over someone that was never theirs to begin with?

You forced yourself to tear your eyes away from the ridiculously attractive blonde boy dressed in all back, knocked back a few shots and happily accepted Pansy’s hand as she pulled you to the dance floor. 

One minute you were jumping around with Pansy, Blaise and Theo and the next minute, you were seeing nothing but pitch black darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Firm arms gripped your waist as you staggered back to your room after blacking out at the party. In all honesty, the person walking you wasn’t much help either with his bloodshot eyes and unsteady footsteps. 

“You— you shouldn’t have walked me to my room.” 

“I know.” Draco said simply as he watched you walk shakily up to your door.

“Go back to the party Draco.” You said with your voice wavering as he slowly inched closer and closer to you till you were firmly pressed against the door. “You know you shouldn’t be here right now.”

“I know.” He said once again before pressing his own Firewhisky laced lips with yours. “I know.” 

Maybe it was the intoxication, maybe it was the way he held firmly onto your waist as his tongue collided with your own but you used your wand to unlock your door with your mouth still attached to his. 

Both of you entered the room bumping into furniture, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to your bed.

Sunday

“What is happening to this world again? Can someone please walk me through?— I am simply too hungover right now.” Pansy groaned, scratching her head as he opened the door to your shared dorm with Theo and Blaise right behind her. 

Having partied all night long, all three of them were too tired to make sense of the scene in front of them. 

“Yeah, I thought Malfoy was with Astoria now.” Theo scratched his chin at the sight of your head on Draco’s chest as you both slept. 

Pansy’s eyes widened when she heard Astoria’s name as she quickly ran inside the room. 

“Wake the fuck up you idiots.” She yelled using her wand to draw away the curtains making Draco groan as the morning light hit his eyes. 

“What’s all this ruckus about.” You mumbled snuggling closer to Draco as your eyes slowly opened to see a glaring pansy accompanied by Theo and Blaise. 

“I have invited Astoria up here to hang out with us, so both of you have a lot of explaining to do before she gets here.”

Monday

“So let me get this straight.” Theo began, as he took a long drag from one of Draco’s cigarettes. “Both of you have been fucking around—traumatising poor Blaise for the last two weeks, correct?”

Draco rolled his eyes, scoffing as he lit up another cigarette while you shrugged. 

The four of you were at the astronomy tower, reclining against the railings as the day faded away into a chilly winter evening. 

“And you two claim that you are not together, correct?”

At this, both you and Draco turned to look at each other—as if questioning each other about the status of your relationship. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” You finally said, slowly breaking eye contact with Draco. “He is getting betrothed to Astoria anyway.”

“And you’re okay with this?” Pansy asked, her face barely visible from all the smoke she was exhaling. 

“Never been better.” You lied, reaching for a cigarette for yourself. You placed the filter end in between your lips and lit it up, inhaling quickly. 

The second you did, tears automatically started to stream from your eyes as you started to cough. 

Draco shook his head and turned to you. 

“Here.” He muttered taking a step towards you, before taking a deep drag from the cancer stick in between his fingers. 

With his free hand raked inside your hair, he pulled your face closer to his until his lips were barely touching yours.

“Inhale y/n.” He murmured, as wisps of smoke left his lips and entered yours. 

You were too preoccupied by his proximity to notice the gagging sounds your friends were making beside you. 

Tuesday

On your way to the library after class, you heard the voice of Lucius Malfoy right outside the dungeons. 

He was going on and on about a ring and how irresponsible Draco was for not getting one made already. Christmas holidays were nearing and Lucius was sure Draco would tarnish the Malfoy family name by not having a ring made on time.

You simply didn’t understand why the Malfoy’s couldn't just use an old family heirloom but you decided to not question it as you walked past them—watching the tired and defeated expression on Draco’s face.

Wednesday

Draco lay on his bed, fiddling with an oval cut emerald ring with the letter “M” engraved on the back of it. The ring had been with the Malfoy women for generations and he simply could not picture the ring on Astoria’s fingers. 

And even though he had no say on his betrothal, he wanted to have a say on the ring and so he had insisted on getting something else made for Astoria. 

But the last two weeks had gone by in a matter of seconds so he did not find the time to, and could not even be bothered to go and have another ring made.

He had known about his impending engagement since the beginning of the year. He’d taken Astoria out several times but he knew there was nothing to that relationship besides sex and chaste kisses on the cheeks exchanged during family dinners.

He didn’t really mind at first, everything felt fine and he simply craved the validation of his father. 

Draco was doing just fine before you came along. 

Sure, life was a little lacklustre. The sky wasn’t as azure, his morning coffee wasn’t as aromatic, and cigarettes were simply means of deteriorating his lungs.

But now, things had shifted a little. 

He felt happier than he had felt in a really long time.

Just as he was opening up his drawer to put away the family heirloom, you knocked on his door—looking breathless. 

“I’m sorry but I overheard your conversation with your father and I think I might be able to help.”

“Huh?” Draco asked, tilting his head,watching you as you grabbed his left hand and dropped a shiny Amethyst ring in the palm of his hands. 

“I had it made for my birthday last month.” You shrugged, it’ll help you keep your father off your back till you get another made.”

If he hadn't fallen in love with you already, he surely did in that particular moment, as he pulled you into his arms, desperately crashing his lips on top of yours. 

Fuck validation. 

Fuck everything. 

Fuck everyone. 

Thursday

Your back firmly pressed against his bare chest—his heart beat calm and steady. 

Draco had his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he possessively pulled you closer to him the way he always did. 

That is how you had woken up. 

Cuddled up with him in his incredibly snug and comfortable bed within four walls enclosed with the smell of bourbon, mixed with the smell of soap, sex and his absurdly expensive cigarettes. 

Even with your eyes still shut, your lips couldn’t help but curve upwards when you felt his breathing gently tickle the back of your neck. 

That is how you had woken up that morning and you honestly wouldn’t mind waking up like that for the mornings to come. 

“Morning Y/l/n.” 

His raspy and deep morning voice sent shivers down your spine as his soft lips came in contact with the spot right below your ears. 

“Morning.” 

He continued to sensually suckle and nibble that particular spot and you suddenly found yourself wanting to be suckled and nibbled on other places. 

“Draco.” You hummed pushing yourself further into his embrace. There was something so fulfilling and satisfying about the way you fit into each other's embraces. Entangled arms, limbs and all. 

The hands that were wrapped securely around your waist now trailed upwards until they found your breasts. 

The feel of his hands taking their own sweet time—softly kneading your sensitive flesh was enough to have you writhing against him 

He made sure to take his time and give equal attention to both your breasts, using his slender fingers to pinch and tug at your hardened buds till you were pushing your hips further back towards him—craving friction, any type of friction really. 

“Easy now.” He lazily whispered into your ear as you started to grind your hips urgently against his erection aching to feel him inside of you again. 

You were empty and missed the feeling of being full but he was nowhere near done with worshiping your breasts—making you restless and impatient with each squeeze. 

“Draco.” You tilted your head backwards and sighed into his neck.“I—I need you to fuck me. Please—I just want to feel you inside me.” 

Draco let out a small chuckle at the directness of your words.

If someone had told him that the same girl that tried to hex him so many times in the past would be saying that to him, he would have told them to get themselves checked at st. Mungos. 

“Relax Darling. I’ll take take of you.” He murmured before trailing his lips down your neck and towards your shoulder placing mellow and relaxed kisses all the way. 

“Draco please.” You whined, grinding your hips harder—desperate tears threatening to leak out of your eyes when you felt his hand on your hip, slowing you down. 

“That’s it. Such a good girl.” He whispered encouragingly into your ear as you let his hands guide you—moving your hips in excruciatingly slow circles against him while he resumed kissing your neck and bare shoulders. 

“Atta girl. Yes that’s it. Keep doing that.” 

His kisses were a stark contrast to his lustful, ravenous and angry kisses from the previous night and the kisses only left you craving even more.

“Please Draco—Fuck me. Please just fuck me.” 

“Look at you, begging for it.” He said in a hoarse whisper as the tip of his cock made contact with your already soaking wet folds and all you could do was let out a muffled moan into your pillow. 

The tip of his cock only slipped halfway inside of you before he pulled out again, teasing.

“You’re dripping wet.” 

“Draco..” you whined.

“Tell me darling, who made your pussy this wet?” 

“You did. Draco Lucius Malfoy—Only you.” 

He loved hearing you beg, he loved it only second to the way you said moaned his name and so he finally entered you allowing his cock to completely stretch you out and fill you up. 

With his perfect teeth bared, Draco peppered kisses onto your shoulders, nibbling gently as he rocked his hips at a slow but steady pace—all the while mumbling sweet nothings into your skin about how well you took him, and how good he felt being inside of you.

The way his skilled hands tugged, twisted and pinched your nipples made you feel an other worldly sort of pleasure—causing you to whimper and moan his name,moving your own hips, trying to feel him deeper inside your walls.

“Shhhh—easy there.” He whispered against your neck. “Just let go.. Focus on feeling every inch of me buried deep inside your pretty little cunt. Can you do that for me?” 

You nodded and stopped moving your hips and used  one of your arms to hold onto his neck as you relaxed into him. 

“That’s it y/n, Just like that.” He coaxed, running his hand up and down your body before firmly resting on your hip as he fucked you nice and slow. 

There was something different and unexpected about his thrusts, something strange and foreign about the way he used his thumb to rub slow and sensual circles on your clit.

“You feel so good y/n. Your pussy feels so amazing.” 

Your moans muddled into one and his movements rocked the bed as he made love to you, pushing you closer and closer towards your orgasm. 

“Fuck—Im so close.” You moaned, burying your head deep into the pillow as Draco picked up his pace pushing his cock in harder and deeper with each thrust. 

“Oh fuck. yes Draco..yes.” You moaned as he dug his nails onto your hips forming crescent shaped indentations as he pushed himself deeper, hitting just the right spot over and over again, making your walls clench up. 

“Draco…” 

“Cum for me, Angel. Cum with me.” He groaned,making both of you ride out our highs till his warm seed spurted deep inside of you. 

When he pulled out of you, some of the warm liquid had already managed to seep out of you and trickle down your inner thigh.  

After taking a brief second to catch his breath, Draco shifted lower into the bed till he was in just in between your legs. 

“I could get used to waking up like this.” He smirked looking up at you. His platinum blonde hair was slightly wavy and kind of fluffy, falling on his forehead but not yet covering his stormy greys. 

“Like what?” You teased. 

“Don't play with me y/l.n.” He warned with a wicked gleam making the grey hues in his eyes brighten into a brilliant. It felt like his eyes changed colors from blue to grey according to his moods. 

“I could get used to waking up like this too.” You said softly as he tried to push back everything that had managed to trickle out. 

Right before Draco could even reply, his door creaked open. 

“Malfoy, Astoria is waiting for you in the common roo—fuck not this again.” Blaise groaned as you pulled the sheets over your body. 

Friday

On your last evening at school before Christmas break, you found yourself perched on the windosill, nestled in between Draco’s arms and limbs in the classroom that started it all.

The pad of his right thumb traced slow, almost lazy circles on your hand while he held his cigarette in his left hand. 

The lit tip of his cigarette was the same shade as the sunset in the tangerine sky and you took deep breaths to try and soak him and the smoke rings that escaped his lips up because you weren't sure if you’d get to be with him again. 

“What are you doing y/l/n?” He asked when he noticed you breathing in and out. 

“Nothing.” 

“Please.” Draco chuckled, taking a long drag from his cigarette. “You have that look on your face.”

“What look?” you asked, turning your head to look at him—the way the last rays of the setting sun caught up on his eyelashes only making you fall harder than you already had.

“This look y/n.” He kinked his eyebrows and tried to mimic your expression. “This is the look you have on your face wherever you are up to something—like  when you try and fix your failed potion in Potions class. Actually, you even make this face when you mix sugar into your tea.” 

“Im just—” You clicked your tongue in frustration. “I’m just going to miss this, I guess.” 

Your words made his expressions soften because he understood. 

How could he have not?

He had spent the whole of last night watching you sleep—the way your chest was rising and falling, the way your heart was beating against his.

He had spent the last hour trying to store the scent of your fruity shampoo deep inside his memory banks because he wasn’t sure if there would be a next time. 

“Let’s stay back at Hogwarts”  He mumbled, pulling you closer to him. “It’ll just be us, it will be good.”

“If only.” You sighed as you rested the back of your head at the crook of his neck. “But I have to go back home and explain the whole situation with Adrian and you…” 

Both of you went silent for a bit. 

“Give me your hand y/n.” He finally broke the silence as you turned around and  looked at him quizzically. “I want to give you something.”

You turned your body around so you could face him better. The strong winter breeze blew his hair towards his eyes, making you want to reach up and push those stray hairs away. Instead, you simply placed your hand on his. 

“Close your eyes.” 

You rolled my eyes at him before squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Are they closed?” 

You nodded and you felt him slip something onto your finger and you quickly  opened one eye to take a peek and It didn't even take you a second to realize he had slipped an emerald ring from onto your finger.

“Draco. I really don’t think this is a good idea.” 

“I thought I told you to keep your eyes shut.” He snapped. 

“But I can’t take this.” 

“I owed you a ring y/n.” He said holding your hand in his to look at the ring on your finger making a type of warmth spread over your entire body. “Keep it till I get the other ring made.” 

You simply stared at the ring unable to form words with your mouth until you felt him shift beside you as he got back up to his feet. 

“Don’t overthink it y/n—I’ll see you at the ball.” 

You hummed as you quietly watched him walk away from you, ignoring the stab your felt in your heart with every step he took. But before you could process your emotions fully, Draco turned on his heel and walked towards you— instantly cupping your face in his hands. 

“Draco what are-”

His lips ardently crushed yours before you could even finish your sentence

There was an abrupt kind of finality in the way he moved his lips against yours. It was like he was kissing you for the last time . 

“I’ll be thinking of you y/l/n.” 

To be continued..

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

Part 5 teaser:

Draco’s features softened as he slowly shifted and got up from the reading nook in his bedroom to fully open his window.

You shielded yourself as cold drops of rain started to hit your face. “What in the actual fuck?”

“Shut up and follow me.” He said as he climbed out of the window and onto the ledge.

“Are you mental?”

“Just do as I say.” He said helping you onto the ledge.

Both of you laughed hysterically as the rain seeped through our clothes as you sat on the ledge with you bare feet dangling in the air.

One wrong move and both of you could fall to your respective deaths. But there came an adrenaline rush with the risk of it all.

___________________________

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V

#harry potter #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #slytherin #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy #draco smut #draco x reader smut #draco x y/n #draco x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy smut

[halsteadssneakylink]

mkayyyy I'm here bestie. SOOOO perhaps reader worked on svu at the same time nick started and then she leaves a few weeks after he joined + nick and reader had hooked up a few times while they were both on svu and they left it awkward cause they had feelings of each other and never said anything

now reader lives in chicago and works on intelligence. reader and jay are besties/fwb (same thing like she and nick had) and they're developing feelings for each other but nick and liv shows up to work a case with them in chicago

reader and nick are super comfortable with each other even tho they left it awkward so they're flirting and shit but jay is jealous af soooo he makes sure she "knows who she belongs too" 👀

but SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER guess who shows up at her door while her and jay are doing it? you guessed it, nick did

so like take that as you will and hopefully this isn't too detailed 😭

this was completely derailed and i loved every second of it

—

You had your lip in between your teeth- biting down so hard you were almost drawing blood- hands above your head in a vice grip, getting absolutely railed by your partner Nick. It had been a few weeks since you guys started sleeping together. It seemed every time you did nights were filled with kisses and empty promises, the mornings with awkward silence and your eyes glazed over in confusion. You kept telling yourself you needed to stop, that things were getting out of hand and sooner or later you’d get too attached and wind up broken-hearted. You knew it had to end.

BUT DAMN IF HE DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO WORK THAT BITCH

The apartment was filled with breathy moans and cries of pleasure. You could hardly keep it together with how good Nick was giving it to you.

“N-NICK, oh..oh my fucking-“

“Yeah?”, he interrupted, “Tell me how much you love it sweetheart. Such a desperate slut for me.”

“Fucking shiiiit- oh god I love you-“ stumbles out of your mouth like a drunk person, unable to catch your slip-up.

He stills completely, not knowing what to say. You on the other hand, start back tracking with any shit that’ll save your ass from complete and total annihilation.

“That- I- we uhm- I-“

Needless to say, you fail. Miserably. Giving him a deer-in-headlights stare, with the speed of Usain Bolt, you grab your shit and start running out the door, tripping over your feet trying to get the fuck outta there and not be seen doing the ultimate walk of shame. A startled dog and its terrified owner stare in shock, watching you run out of the apartment while pulling up your pants and holding your phone under your chin with your keys hanging out of your mouth. You immediately called Liv while driving home and told her you were quitting your job and moving to Chicago to go become a stripper.

Getting home you packed your shit and threw it in the back of your clown car, a surprising amount actually fitting in the damn thing. Beating on your bitchy landlord’s door, you slapped him in the face with a simple “Fuck you” and told him you’d not be paying the rest of your rent. Burping in your face, he said ok and then you were off to She-cago. (i rly hope you get the reference)

‘’

Now unfortunately, all the strip clubs wanted you on their staff, but you had a secret job lined up because one drunk night a few years ago you gave head to the right person and now he was your boss. Walking in to District 21 was familiar, but this time it had more spice cause the recipient of said drunken blowie was looking at you with a smile on his face like he was gonna get one as soon as you came through his office door.

“Sarge,” you said, debby-ryan-smirking whilst shaking his hand.

“Next time you call me that, use it in bed.” He says.

“Can’t get enough of your new title, can you Jay?”

“Nope. Still not over it. Come on, everyone’s been waiting to see you.”

Walking up the stairs, you come into view of the intelligence office and see all your favorite ugly bitches. Kevin and Adam are doing lines of coke on the floor and Kim and Hailey are drawing in permanent marker on the picture of a dead Hanky boy, giggling about My Little Pony. Passing by them, They all look up and say hi to you and then resume their game of paint twister as you and Jay head into his office. He immediately looks at you and says,

“If you can’t shuck corn, you don’t have the beans for this job.”

So, being a solid hire, you give him the best suckjob of his life, completely enveloping him and 10 seconds later, swallowing like a champ cause mama ain’t raise no bitch. Then, the phone rings and here’s some pussy-ass serial killer that’s apparently hiding out in Chicago. You immediately recognize the name cause you were working on that bitch before you left. Tugging up his blue velour track pants that accentuate his juicy caboosey, Jay heads into the bullpen, clapping his cheeks to get everyone’s attention.

“Okay guys we have a crazy murderer hiding in the city. Rise and grind to the occasion my cockatoos. Kevin stop grinding on cocaine you’re getting white shit on your pants, Adam you look like you just ate out a powdered donut if a powdered donut had a coochie. Ladies, we have no time for your ponies unless they shit rainbows cause then we have a problem on our hands. Olivia Benson and Nick Amaro from the Manhattan Special Victims Unit are gonna be here in like an hour so hold on to ya butts til then okay?”

“YES CHEF!” the whole team yells simultaneously and you start wondering what kinda bullshit you got yourself into. Then again you weren’t too concerned cause once you started blowing weed out of jay’s ass you were too high to care. If you had to see Nick after the way you speedy Gonzales’d your ass outta his apartment, you were gonna need to consume as much illegal shit as possible.

‘’

You startle at the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and immediately wipe the drugs from your snot line. Not even realizing you were asleep, you shake out your hair and look up to see Liv and Nick returning your glance.

“ So you traded me for this moron? I’m hurt, really. Is it because he gives good dick?” Liv asks bluntly.

“Absolutely, I totally traded my best friend for good dick😐. Of course not you dumb bitch. You give better head anyway.” you say.

“Of course I do but you could’ve at least became a stripper like you said-“ Liv kept talking but you were tuning her out, being completely focused on the glassy eyes of your beautiful annabelle lee, the ones so determined not to meet your gaze.

Spending all day working on the case was the plan. Keeping away from Nick was the plan. But then this motherfucker decided he wanted to get an explanation from you. Meeting you in the break room, he tries to ask you why you left his poor unfortunate soul, but you keep diverting his questions because how stupid is he to not know why you left. A fucking trained monkey understands that. You can’t love an emotionally stunted man who wants to use you like a daycare. Now this seemingly normal conversation is interrupted when your absolute-fucking-unit- of a boss comes meandering in trying to distract this strange Nick from flirting with you, so he goes full Chris Evans left boob grab AND licks your neck. Leaving the break room, jay tells you that you tasted like coffee and that the team has found the serial killer’s hideout.

After eating some grapes and licking some balls, OG baby daddy Sonny Carisi comes out of nowhere, spiderman- crawling up the ceiling and telling you guys don’t bother gearing up cause we found the dumpy ass motherfucker throwing water balloons at oncoming cars from an overpass.

So with the case wrapped, and Jay’s dick too, you get used as cumdumpster one more time, but not before Nick swings by your apartment. Climbing in through the fake fireplace in very festive fashion, Nick comes into your pussy-colored bathroom and sees you getting railed by Jay. Now normally- screw this absolutely nothing about this fucking situation is normal. Nick decides to hop in the barbie pink tub and then spitroast you with Jay while you whine like a prostitute about the good fucking you’re recieving and you all fuck happily into the sunset with lots more fuckings to ✨cOmE✨

#i promise i wasn’t high when i wrote this #why is adam eating donut coochie? #the world may never know #thanks for the ask anj ily #nick amaro #one chicago fic #crack fic #not beta'd #svu x reader #jay halstead x reader #absolute unit

[safertokiss]

Lost in Translation

A/N: Heyyyyy guys...remember when I used to post like every two weeks? Yeesh that’s awkward...but I’m backkkkk woooooooo party time! I was so excited that my discord buddies organized another fic swap because it was so much fun the first time. This time around I was chosen to write a doozy for the wonderful @writing-in-april and I have decided to bless you all with a beautiful subby boy. Sub Spencer lives in my head rent free, no cap. So sit back, relax and pretend it's you getting fricken railed. Peace out girl scouts;)

Pairing: SPENCER x READER

Category: SMUT hehe oh yeah and fluff

Word Count: 4.8k

ENJOY:)

~~~

MASTERLIST

~~~

For as long as she could remember, Y/n had always wanted to learn Russian.

So, naturally, when she found out that their newest case involved two lovers who also happened to be Russian criminals trying to escape the United States government, she simply couldn’t help but jump at the opportunity to become more involved in the investigation. 

It’s not that she’d never been on a stakeout for the Bureau before, in fact she’d probably been on so many at this point that she’d lost count. The only difference that this specific stakeout brought to her life was the fact that it was her first one to have ever been shared with Spencer Reid.

Her and the young doctor had lived in the same apartment building since her first day at the BAU, but their relationship pretty much began and ended at that. Of course they greeted each other whenever they passed in the halls of their building and ricocheted off of each other’s theories whenever necessary during their meetings in the round table room, but it would be a lie to label their relationship as anything other than casual acquaintances as well as amicable coworkers. 

She had never been able to fully get a grasp on the elusive Dr. Reid. The fact that he was already such an integral member of the F.B.I. at the ripe age of 25 astounded and, well to be honest, perplexed her. Not that she doubted his abilities or intelligence in any way, quite the opposite really. She admired how utterly brilliant he proved to be day in and day out, even with the shy exterior he presented himself with to the world. Well, shy was definitely more of an understatement. 

She had never met someone more socially awkward in her entire life, but with that being said, she couldn’t help but find it endearing and pretty dang adorable. Y/n constantly found herself enjoying his pathetic attempts at human interaction on a daily basis. From the nervous stutters to the out of this world hand gestures, there was much for her to dissect about the young doctor. And while she could openly admit that he was quite easy on the eyes, in a boyish-innocent kind of way, she had never really been able to see him in that sort of light.

If she thought his normal social interaction skills were entertaining to witness, his reactions to any of the conversations that took a more raunchy turn were to die for. The speed at which his features would ripen red like a tomato whenever anything of a sexual nature was brought up during cases was truly amazing, impressive even. However, unlike the rest of their team, she knew he wasn’t completely innocent. The walls in their apartment were as good as paper when it came to thickness, so it wasn’t that big surprise that the sounds created within them carried fairly well. 

Or at least that was what she had discovered after the first night she heard him touching himself just through her bedroom wall. 

Yes, it was less than ideal that their bedroom walls just happened to be adjacent to each other, but what could she do about it? It wasn’t as though she never sought out her own pleasure while alone in her apartment...although she would bet money that she was much better at withholding her noises. Instead, she learned to adapt to the sounds from next door and continue on with her life, having accepted that guys will in fact be dudes, no matter how innocent and meek they may appear.

When her boss had explained the nature of the assignment to them, there wasn’t anything of significance that had jumped out at her. It was all pretty standard instruction. They would wait, parked, in a government issued SUV overnight at a location close to the whereabouts of the criminals and simply translate their conversations using the mics that were planted prior. While Hotch knew that Y/n herself couldn’t understand Russian, it was common knowledge that the resident genius easily could transcribe the language.

And that was how she found herself cramped next to Spencer Reid in the stagnant vehicle, pen and paper in hand, patiently waiting for the translations to begin. 

It was almost completely silent inside the car, apart from the quiet whirring of the heat coming through the vents, and she could basically feel the nerves coming off of the man next to her in waves. That’s why she was completely thrown off her game when his timid voice was the first to break through the silence that had encompassed the space they inhabited together.

“So um Y/n..h-how have you been recently?”

She did her best to hide the small smirk that started to form on her face from the stuttering mess that spilled out of his mouth. She definitely didn’t want to make him feel even worse about himself so she decided to humour his adorable attempt at conversation with her...well...sort of.

“Oh ya know Reid, just counting the days until I get some action. How about you?” If she  thought he was sputtering nervously before, that was nothing compared to this treasure.

“Oh um well uh I-I mean...I don-I don’t...uh...w-what was the question a-again?”

This time she couldn’t stop the airy chuckle that escaped her lips as she leaned over and patted him gently on his thigh.

“Relax Reid, I’m just fucking around with you. Well for the most part...I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to some action, but that’s a whole can of worms I am not about to open during a stakeout”, Y/n laughed, not at all missing the steadily spreading blush that coated his sharp features.

“Yeah...no..yeah right of course...I t-totally knew you were just um fu-messing with me! Uh we should probably um r-review our assignment...you know just so we’re all s-set before we start.” How adorable.

“Aye-aye captain Reid. Ok so..”, she muttered while fiddling with the listening device to secure the right frequency. “...we just have to wait until they get back so we’re in range of their conversations. That’s when you’ll have your time to shine and prove yourself as the resident genius once again. And I’m sure that you’re aware that I don’t know a lick of the Russian language so I will be the best damn transcriber for you that the world has ever seen”, she finished with a smirk. 

Even Reid chuckled a bit at her words, the ever-present blush slowly creeping back upon his face and neck. 

“I’ll uh-I’ll hold you to that then.” Y/n had to admit she particularly liked to see the boy smiling, especially when it was the result of her own words. His innocence seemed to call out to her like a siren and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Oh-oh there they are! Ok get the pen and paper ready because as soon as they’re in range I’ll start translating.”

Getting themselves situated, they waited the few seconds it took for the couple to get close enough to the vicinity of the SUV for their conversations to begin to be broadcasted through their system.

“Как вы думаете, они идут по нашему следу?”

“Do you think they’re on our trail?”, Spencer easily understands, leaning slightly closer to her so his words were clearly heard.

“Ни за что. У этих глупых американцев нет шансов поймать нас.”

“No way. Those stupid Americans don’t stand a chance at catching us.”

At this point, the couple had already disappeared behind the door at the entrance of their current base, leaving only their words to give the closely listening agents much needed context clues.

“Я когда-нибудь говорил тебе, как сильно мне нравится твоя уверенность?”

“Have I ever told you how much I love your confidence?” 

Even Spencer let himself smile at the chuckle that left Y/n’s lips. “Awww how cute...they’re flirting with each other over mass murder. I strive for that kind of intimacy.”

“Да у тебя есть. Но почему бы тебе не показать мне, насколько тебе это нравится.”

“Yes, you have. But why don’t you show me just how much you love it.”

Uh oh, Y/n thought to herself. Not a second after the untimely thought permeated her brain, the sounds of wet lips sloppily colliding against each other filled the otherwise silent vehicle. After the few seconds of shock wore off, their heads whipped to face each other, eyes wide and mouths wide open. “Huh...well this was certainly an unexpected turn.”

“I uh um-uh well w-what do we do now?”, Tomato Boy nervously sputtered out over the chorus of moans and groans that were currently bouncing off the SUV’s walls. As unexpected as the present situation was, she was absolutely eating up his reaction to the crude sounds.

“Well, Hotch did say he wanted us to take down every single word that was shared between them so...I guess we’re just gonna have to keep moving forward with the translations. You can do that, can’t you Reid?”, she explained, not even attempting to hide the growing smirk on her face.

“Yeah! Yes! Mhmm I can do that, I c-can definitely do t-that.”, he gushed, trying to subtly clear his throat to clear the steadily growing tension in his body.

“Good to hear, Doc.”, she cheekily replied just as the raunchy sounds echoing through the system transitioned to different methods of communication, more legible ones.

“Ты была для меня такой хорошей девочкой. Я думаю, ты заслуживаешь награды.”

Quickly clearing his throat once more, he jumped back into action, with what Y/n noticed was considerably less confidence than before. “You’ve b-been such a good g-girl for me. I think you deserve a r-reward.” Spencer’s voice had noticeably dropped to a whisper by the end of the sentence, forcing Y/n to lean closer to be able to hear his translations, only magnifying the already present tension in the air. 

“Пожалуйста, папа, я сделаю что угодно.”

“P-please daddy.” His voice broke at the end igniting something deep inside Y/n’s being. “I’ll do anything.” In that moment she truly believed he would do anything, his own words or not, based on the obvious strain in his pants that her eyes glanced over, and also by the way his skin completely succumbed to goosebumps as her warm breath caressed the shell of his ear. She didn’t really know what the hell was happening, why her body was absolutely loving the way he gradually leaned into her’s, submitting all of his vulnerabilities into her hands. 

“Тебе это нравится, не так ли, маленькая шлюшка. Как член папы глубоко внутри тебя?”

She watched the way he inhaled a deep breath and released a high-pitched sigh before continuing on, subtly pressing her legs together to control the excitement thrumming through her body at his pathetic tone and mannerisms. 

“You like t-that don’t you, you little-uh-you little s-slut?” From their close proximity, she could clearly make out the speedy heartbeat clambering against his chest as he spoke. And if that was the case, he must’ve been able to feel hers as well. “Like daddy’s c-cock deep inside of y-you?” She could’ve sworn she saw his dick twitch slightly in his pants.

“Маленькая шлюшка уже придет за мной? Тогда умоляйте об этом. Бля, умоляю позволить тебе кончить.”

Y/n certainly did not miss the airy sigh that escaped his lips, watching as a bead of sweat dripped down his temple, confidently guessing it was not from the heat that had been coming through the vents.

“Is the little-little s-slut gonna come for me already? B-beg for it then. Fucking beg f-for me to let you c-come.” Spencer was speedily falling apart at the seams and she was loving it. More than loving it. She was craving it. Craving the little noises that he was trying to stop from escaping his lips. Craving the way he slightly bounced his leg in an attempt to control his arousal, which was futile because it had obviously already reached its full potential in the confines of his khaki slacks. 

“Пожалуйста, папа. Пожалуйста, позволь мне прийти. Мне это надо. Пожалуйста.”

Without even hearing the words translated back to her, she could hear the utter desperation in the girl’s voice. She no longer needed to understand the Russian language to be able to finish the translation, and as she sat there with her thighs tightly pressed together, she knew exactly what it meant.

“Please!” The utter need that was present in the original audio was somehow mirrored perfectly by the young doctor’s breathy voice, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, a prominent vein popping through the skin of his smooth forehead. “Please, p-please, please let me come. I n-need it. Please!”

“Приди за мной, детка.”

Deciding that she could regret her actions in the morning, Y/n quickly grabbed his face before he could translate, angling his head so she could whisper directly into his ear at the same time he spoke the last line of the night.

“Come for me baby.”, they both spoke at the exact same time.

Pulling away as fast as possible, she watched his clamped eyes shoot open as the most obnoxiously loud moan she had ever heard escaped the poor kid, his whole body spasming as a result. And using the large stain on the crotch of his pants as a guide, she was pretty certain she knew what had happened.

For the next few minutes there was silence in the SUV, apart from Spencer’s heavy breathing as he came down of course, leading them to believe the couple had fallen asleep after their...activities. Of course she wanted nothing more than to tease the trembling mess next to her, but she could already tell he was mortified beyond belief because of what happened so she didn’t want to make it any worse for him than it already was. 

After waiting a few extra minutes just to make sure that they had actually gone to sleep, the pair drove away from the stakeout location, Spencer not having said a word since his...big finish. As much as she loved watching him fall apart in front of her, she really didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable around her. 

“Well that was certainly an unexpected turn of events for the night, huh?”, she said, lightly chuckling with the intent of lightening his mood. She was very glad to see it had the intended effect.

“Uh y-yeah...you could definitely say that again.”, he mumbled with the ghost of a smile on his plump lips, though she could still clearly make out the blush coating his features.

“So hey, I know that you usually take the metro, but I’d be more than happy to give you a ride home after we drop the SUV off at the office if you want.”, she warmly smiled in his direction without taking her eyes completely off the road.

“Oh um..yeah that would be perfect. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it Reid.”

~~~

The rest of the ride back to the office was pretty much spent in silence, but it was much more comfortable than it had been before, which was a huge relief. After dropping the keys to the SUV in the lock box inside, the two agents piled into Y/n’s car to go back home to their shared building. On their way back she considered just asking him if he wanted to ride with her everyday just to make his life a little easier in the long run.

Once they got to the parking lot and exited the vehicle, they began walking towards the entrance together, the awkward tension from before creeping back into the air around them. Soon enough, they found themselves standing in front of their respective doors, both unsure of how they were supposed to end the night’s interactions. After a few moments of painful silence and eye contact, Y/n was the first one to rip off the band-aid.

“So...I guess I’ll see you tomorrow Reid?” He seemed to be broken out of his trance by the sound of her voice, snapping back to attention.

“Huh? Oh yeah uh yes of course. S-see you tomorrow Y/n. Goodnight.” He scampered into his apartment before she could even get a chance to respond to his bidding.

“Goodnight.”, she whispered to no one other than herself as she unlocked her door and headed inside to shower quickly before diving into her soft sheets.

She was sitting up in her bed, book in hand, with only the small glow of her reading lamp illuminating her room when she heard it. Of course she knew immediately what they were, a talent that had developed and strengthened from living adjacent to a pretty much pubescent boy.

The tell-tale sound of moans and groans vibrating right through her wall.

She knew she probably shouldn’t be listening, something about a violation of privacy or whatever, but she just couldn’t help it. He sounded so desperate it was driving her insane. So much in fact that she was in the process of skimming her own hand downwards when she was interrupted by a certain something from the Doc’s room.

“Y/n! Oh god, please. Please.”

Oh. Oh.

Not even giving herself a second to consider her actions, she was up on her feet basically sprinting to his door, pajamas and all. Not even bothering with knocking, she noticed it was unlocked and let herself in, beelining for what she assumed was his bedroom by the increasing volume as she approached it. Standing in his doorframe, she was utterly mesmerized. There he was, sprawled across his sheets, completely bare with sweat coating his hair as he rapidly pumped his angry, red cock, her name tumbling from his lips like a chant.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” She smirked as she watched his head shoot up to where she was standing, his hand immediately stilling it’s rapid movements. Watching the panic spread on his face was intoxicating to her as she slowly approached his bed.

“Y/n! Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I uh-I didn’t um...” His words trailed off and his eyes widened as he watched her slowly begin removing her clothes as she moved closer to him. 

“Shhhhhh.” She managed to remove both her shirt and pajama pants in the short trip over to his bed and she had no intention of stopping there. Now standing directly in front of him, she let her eyes wander over his still frame completely, soaking in the amazement in his dark eyes and the slight tremble that was periodically rippling through his body. Maintaining eye contact with him the whole time, she reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, letting it pool on the floor next to her.

It was honestly shocking his eyes didn’t actually fall onto the floor with how far they bulged out of their sockets, a small moan leaving his mouth. 

She giggled at his enthusiasm before bringing her soft hands up to caress his face gently, his body shuddering at the contact. “Do you want me to keep going baby boy?” Taking a second to process the question that had left her lips, he slowly nodded while looking her in the eyes, his own full of awe. 

Happy with his answer, she reached for the edge of her panties before pushing them down to join the other pieces of clothing already inhabiting his floor. Spencer couldn’t speak. He could barely even breathe. Five minutes ago he had been jerking off to his neighbor, who also happened to be his coworker, and now said neighbor was crawling onto his bed, completely naked, with a wicked smirk on her face.

Straddling his lap, but making sure that there was no actual contact, she reached up to cup his face again, slowly rubbing circles into his defined cheekbone. “Is this ok baby boy? Is this what you want?”, she cooed. 

Spencer looked like he honestly might cry from the pure compassion laced within her words, but still found a way to nervously nod his head in affirmation of her questions. With a warm smile on her face, she leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss on his lower jaw before continuing up the side of his face, basking in the small whimpers that fell from his pretty lips. Finally reaching his ear, she let her warm breath tease him before proceeding. 

“Do you want me to take control of you? Is that what you want sweet boy?” While the whine that immediately escaped him was answer enough, she pulled back searching for a more concrete answer to her question. “Hmmmm, you’d like that?” 

“Yes.”, he whispered, nodding his head anxiously. 

While he was answering she had leaned back towards his face, placing soft kisses all over. “As you wish baby boy.”, she whispered, changing course to attack his neck with her eager lips as soon the words left her mouth. Spencer gasped instantly and she couldn’t help but smirk against his pale flesh, increasing the pressure in which she was assaulting his neck.

Through the groans that spilled past his lips, she was able to make out his pathetic attempt at words, not slowing down her lips at all. “J-just make sure not to leave any m-marks. We’ll g-get in trouble at w-work.” Of course Spencer would be the only person on the planet to remember their office guidelines while getting his neck sucked like a vampire.

“No marks...that’ll be difficult. I want everyone to know just how thoroughly I fucked you.”

Feeling extremely satisfied by his enthusiastic response to her vulgar words, she slowly lowered herself down his body, pausing with her mouth right above his groin. Somehow the poor kid already looked completely fucked out and she hadn’t even done anything yet. Hearing him wince as she gently grasped and started stroking his cock, she knew this was gonna be fun.

Staring directly into her eyes, he watched the string of spit leave her mouth and drip directly onto his dick, eyes bulging at her bold actions, still in shock that any of this was actually happening. 

Entranced by the way his chest expanded rapidly as he watched her curiously, she leaned forward and licked the tip, his head falling back onto the pillow behind him. “I’m gonna suck your cock...but only because I want to see if you can not be a spaz about getting head from me.” Her words made Spencer whimper and she smirked as she took him fully into her mouth, soaking in his pretty noises. 

Y/n had only been going for a minute or two when she heard his groans get louder and felt him twitch in her mouth. Pulling off of him with a pop, she hummed at the sight of the completely wrecked boy in front of her, panting and shaking adorably. It wasn’t long before the perfect idea infiltrated her head, her body thrumming with anticipation and excitement.

“You’ve been such a good boy for me. I think you deserve a reward.”, she smirked, reciting the words that they had heard verbatim. Seemingly catching on to what she was pushing for, he responded accordingly.

“Please Y/n. I’ll do anything.”

She quirked her eyebrow in his direction questioningly, slowly grinding her dripping core against his achingly hard cock. “Anything, baby boy?”

Snapping his heated stare directly to her eyes, he cracked a beautiful smile. “Anything.”

She couldn’t control the grin that overtook her lips as she lowered herself down onto his erection, writhing in pleasure at the feel of him inside of her and the sound of his wanton moans. “Good boy.” 

Wanting to give Spencer time to fully adjust and control himself, she started her movements out slow, lifting herself up until only his tip remained inside before dropping down completely into his lap repeatedly. He was a moaning mess on the sheets below her, sweat coating his body along with goosebumps covering every visible expanse of his skin as he panted like a dog. He was so fucking pretty like this. 

Deciding enough was enough, she picked up the pace considerably, bouncing like a mad woman on his dick, while her sharp nails scratched down his creamy, pale chest in front of her, leaving angry, red streaks in their wake. Spencer had devolved into a blubbering mess underneath her and that lit her soul on fire.

“You like that don’t you, you little slut? Like your cock deep inside of me? Huh?” 

Y/n was pretty sure that he was short circuiting below her, his brain cutting off all control over his body as he spasmed uncontrollably and moaned for the entire fucking building to hear. Good, she thought. Let them hear how whipped he was for her. Even though it had only been a few minutes since she increased her speed, she could feel his cock starting to twitch violently inside of her and she knew he was close, really close.

“Is the little slut gonna come for me already?” All he could do was whimper in response, having to nod his head emphatically due to his loss of speech.

“Beg for it then. Fucking beg for me to let you come!” She was on fucking cloud nine right now, floating through the motions, as his whimpers increased in volume and speed. Mustering up all the strength he could, he spit out as many audible words as possible.

“Please! Please, please, please let me come! I need it! Please!” He was crying now, tears rapidly pouring from his eyes and spilling down his cheeks out of sheer desperation and need to release the tension built up within his body.

She was in awe of him. As she watched the tears pour down his face, she couldn’t help but whimper too. Desperately needing to finish, herself, she brought one hand down to make circles around her clit, while the other she brought up to wrap gently around his flushed throat, leaning over to whisper in his ear like she had earlier that night.

“Come for me, baby.”

She once again pulled back to witness his reactions to her hushed words, the outcome only more amazing than before. She watched as his eyes rolled back as far they could possibly go into his head as his mouth dropped open in pure ecstasy, high-pitched whines escaping his lips, his release shooting up into her like it had always belonged there. Maybe it had.

Watching him come undone below her, combined with her hand speedily rubbing circles on her clit, she was catapulted into the most amazing climax of her entire life, her body buzzing with excitement as she tightened around him and collapsed on his chest, weak as could be after that activity.

The pair laid silently, apart from the heaving breaths whirring through the room, still in shock over what had just transpired minutes before. Slowly shifting her eyes to the shivering boy below her, she saw he was caught in a trance, his eyes dazed, a soft grin on his lips. 

Breaking him from his stupor, she gently cupped his cheek with one hand as the other drew lazy circles on his blotchy chest. Rubbing the skin on his face lightly, she leaned forward and kissed his nose, making him scrunch it up and giggle as a result. “Such a sweet boy for me. Such a sweet, sweet boy.” Her words made him melt inside and words tumbled out of his own mouth before he could even think about stopping them.

“Вы красивы внутри и снаружи.”

She looked up at him in shock, before breaking out in giggles. “Did you just serenade me in Russian? How romantic.”, she giggled, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

He couldn’t seem to control his giggles either, a fact that warmed her heart. “Yes, I suppose I did.”

Smiling up at the adorable boy she just had to ask. “What does it mean?”

Y/n watched as his signature blush quickly coated his features once again as he looked down at her with a shy smile. “You are beautiful, inside and out.”

With the warmest grin she could muster, she leaned up and kissed his jaw once more before snuggling up against the young doctor who had melted her heart.

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[buckyownsmylife]

put it all on me - steve rogers smut

The one where, after Steve fucks you in a bar, he takes you back to his room.

Warnings: Cum eating, oral sex (f), A LOT OF dirty talk, light degradation?, I don’t think so, but just to be sure, it’s just ‘cause Steve likes to tease the reader for her sexual desires, captain kink, talks of threesome, smut, p in v, doggy, face down, ass up, plot twist, poly!Steve, really dominant!Steve

A/N: in theory, this is supposed to be a part ii to this fic, hence the same title. But it’s easily read as a one-shot, so if you don’t want to read that little drabble, just carry on.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

The first thing Steve did when he managed to get me inside his room was strip me completely naked, and after a few minutes of forcing me to endure his burning gaze on my exposed body, fall to his knees and pull me to accept his body between my legs.

“St-Steve!” I admonished, trying to get out of the position, knowing the cum he had deposited inside of me was going to drip on his face any second now. But all I got was a harsh slap on my ass, Steve’s blunt nails carving half-moon indentations on my skin when he secured my hips, making sure to push my legs as far away as they could get before he sat me down on his mouth. “Shit, Captain! Sorry.”

“You think you can pretend to be all coy and shy now, sweetheart?” He mocked, perfect soft lips already prying my lower ones open and he used his tongue to scoop up his own cum from inside of me, catching me by surprise. I was so surprised, in fact, that I lost control of my own leg muscles, and would have fallen face-first on the floor if it weren’t for Steve still keeping me up by his grip on my hips.

“You can’t play that innocent act with me anymore, princess. Not when you let me fuck you in a bar’s bathroom. Not when you were so eager to milk me dry.” I moaned just from hearing the good old Captain America saying such nasty things from between my legs. It felt like a dream - a dirty, too-good-to-be-true dream, and I loved every second of it.

On the off chance that this whole thing had been just a figment of my imagination, I wanted to make the most out of it. I wasn’t one for lucid dreams, so I didn’t know when it would be the next time I’d get this sort of fun again.

If it was truly happening, then, that’s why I needed to cherish every single second of this experience. There was no part of me that believed I’d be able to lay with Steve freaking Rogers again after tonight. This was purely the result of hurt ego and adrenaline that was most likely still running through his body from the mission he’d been on for the last few weeks. He hadn’t had a release in a while and it was purely the combination of luck and being in the right place, at the right time, that had allowed me to cherish this opportunity. I wouldn’t fake myself into believing any differently.

Steve hummed as he tasted the combination of himself and my wetness. It felt downright depraved, and it only served to get me even wetter for him. “We taste so good together, honey. I don’t think I’ll ever want to eat my cum without yours.”

What the fuck was going on? Who was this person? I just couldn’t believe Steve was actually saying stuff like that. Through the gasps that revealed just how out of breath that situation had made me, I forced myself to let out a raspy, “You do that often?”

It made Steve laugh, still otherwise occupied with licking my wetness away, sometimes humming in a way that let me believe he truly was deeply appreciative of my taste. “You truly have no idea,” he mused, only making even more curious.

Steve’s P.O.V.

Shit, she was perfect. I was so glad her little slip up had given me the perfect opportunity to rail her in the bathroom of that bar because now that I had known how she felt and what she tasted like, there was no way I would ever let her go. And I knew just who would love this development.

“When Bucky gets home, I’m sure he’ll keep my face stuffed in your pussy, licking our remnants to clean you up before he fucks you.” This was a calculated move. I knew exactly what I was doing as I said those words and pried her lower lips open with two of my fingers, prepared to feel her clench around my tongue as she realized what I was implying.

“B-Bucky?” She repeated, and I could only chuckle against her wetness as she writhed over me. So sweet, both in taste and in personality. I can see why he had fallen for her. Such a pretty little thing, so unaware of her allure.

“Oh yeah, darling. You have no idea how badly he has wanted you.” Finally leaving her pussy to watch her face as she tried to get a grip over what I was telling, I pushed two of my fingers in her hole, listening for the sopping sounds my thrusts made as I continued my taunts.

  “He’s been talking about fucking you ever since you started working at the tower, sweetheart. I was the one who originally opposed it because I didn’t think you’d be up for the things we’d like to do to you… But tonight, you’ve gone ahead and turned the tables on me, haven’t you? Thinking I was the innocent one, when you’re always walking around so cutely in dresses like the one I ripped from you,” tsking, I continued, “He would have loved you in that dress, such a shame you won’t be able to wear it anymore. But I’ll buy a new one, and then you’ll let him fuck you in it, won’t you, princess? You’ll be our good girl now, huh?” I watched her orgasm hit her right before my eyes, grinning from ear to ear as I kept my movements quick and harsh against the spot that made her try to escape me. Shame, I’d never let her go.

“You’re aching for it, aren’t you, darling? Desperate to feel both of our cocks in your tiny holes, filling you from both ends. Maybe you’ll even take two at once, huh? Can’t wait to play with you until you’re so used to our cocks we’ll just slide right in, princess.” Now my cock was throbbing, desperate to fill her up with more cum so I could just lick it all off again later. So, albeit reluctantly, I got up and grabbed her by the hips, throwing her on the bed before turning her around and raising her fantastic ass up.

“I think I’ll fuck you like this again. Keep grabbing this ass so I can leave my mark in it, just like I left my cum in you.” I slapped it once, watching it bounce as my handprint quickly appeared on her soft skin. Then, I yanked her up by her hair, just so I could whisper in her ear.

“Beg me for my cock, c’mon. Beg me to fill this pretty pussy.” I loved how every little thing I did left her whiny and out of breath, not to mention absolutely dripping on my bed. Perhaps she truly wasn’t prepared for all we’d do to her, but I could see now that leaving her completely mad with desire was more than half of the fun. 

“Fuck me, Captain! Please! Please, I need your cock. I need it so bad.” The pure, unadulterated need in her voice had me groaning, and I finally stopped stroking myself to push her down again before finally spearing her with my cock. It felt like ages since our fuck in the bathroom, and feeling her tight walls struggle to adjust to my thickness was torture in the best possible way.

“I can’t wait to choke you with my cock later,” I warned as I began fucking her. It didn’t take long for her arms to falter, and she fell head first on the mattress, but I didn’t stop, simply adjusted myself so I’d be laying on top of her.

“You say that like you’ll still want me.” I snorted, biting her in warning. Although I did understand where her insecurity came from, the idea of her being nothing more than a one night stand felt so ludicrous, it was impossible to keep myself from laughing as I secured her arms by her head, slowing my movements but deepening them.

“Darling, I didn’t watch Bucky cum over and over again while screaming your name only to fuck you twice and ignore you the next day. Oh no. This is how you’re going to be now, every single day for the rest of your life: filled by me or Bucky or both of us at the same time. So you better get used to the idea, and soon.”

I rested my chin on her back, softly running my fingers through her hair so I could keep it away from her face before I pulled her back for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. “You’re ours now, sweetheart.”

#my fics #steve rogers smut #smut #steve rogers #steve rogers reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers ff #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers oneshots #steve rogers insert #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines

[oh-katsuki]

Payback: Part 2 (Armin x Reader x Mikasa)

Pairing: Armin x Reader x Mikasa

Content: Mentions of sex, vulgar language, allusions to voyeurism / exhibitionism

TW: None

A/N: No smut in this one.  Archive Fic

Part 1 | Part 3

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to fuck your best guy friend in a closet while your friends played 7 minutes in heaven in another, but it wasn’t your fault, especially when Armin looked so good with your fingers in his hair. However, you could have gone without Mikasa walking in while he’s balls deep.

She stood in the doorway, eyes wide at the sight in front of her. Mikasa had always liked you, ever since she’d met you. She liked the way you walked and the way you talked and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love the way you looked. Mikasa thought she knew you pretty well and she knew that you had someone you were hooking up with. What she didn’t know was that it was Armin, and walking in on him railing you was the last thing she’d expect to happen. She had no clue how to react, that is until your embarrassed cry rang out through the room.

“Oh my god!” You pushed on Armin’s chest, your arms flying up to cover your chest as he stopped pumping into you. He turned his head, his eyes widening as he met Mikasa’s gaze.

“Mikasa, you find the cups?” You could hear Jean’s voice growing closer as he made his way to the closet. Getting caught by Jean was the absolute last thing you wanted in this situation and you brought your finger to your lip, urging her to keep quiet about what she’d just seen.

Ripped from her trance, Mikasa tore her eyes away from you and stumbled slightly over her words before leaving the room, beginning to pull the handle shut.

“Uhm, nope. Not here.” She tossed one more look back into the closet before closing the door.

What the fuck was she supposed to do? She could tell that her gaze had lingered on you too long, she could tell that you’d noticed the way her eyes lingered on your glistening cunt. As she walked away from the door, she could feel her arousal pool low in her core and she couldn’t help but think of how fucked over she’d be if you found out.

—–

The next few days, you couldn’t manage to catch Mikasa alone. It was like she’d been avoiding you and had stopped frequenting the places where she usually hangs out. Shit, you couldn’t even catch her eye when you were in a group together.

You could understand why things might be awkward, you really could. Who wants to walk in to see two of their childhood best friends fucking? However, it was no secret that you had a sex partner and Mikasa knew that you didn’t date, not officially at least. She just didn’t know it was Armin of all people and she certainly didn’t expect to be into it.

As a rule, you liked to have one exclusive hookup partner whose company you could enjoy without feelings. Mikasa understood this, but that doesn’t mean it softened the blow. Besides, you couldn’t pretend that you hadn’t noticed the way her eyes lingered on you that night.

Mikasa was hot. Shit, you have to admit that you’d imagined what she’d look like squirming under you while you slipped your hands under the waistband of your pants and teased yourself, but that doesn’t mean you’d act on it. Not right now at least, especially since you had your thing with Armin. So you had to find her, explain to her that what you and Armin have isn’t emotional and should be kept a complete secret.

—-

You’d finally done it. It took a week but you’d finally ended up in a room alone with her, the two of you sitting on your dorm room bed because the rest of the group had decided to run out and grab drinks from the vending machines by the dining hall. Mikasa didn’t miss the encouraging wink Armin gave you as he left with them.

“Hey.” You spoke first, taking initiative in the conversation before it had the chance to get away from you.

“Hi.” Fuck. This was awkward. How were you supposed to get over this? It was right about now you found yourself wishing that Armin had done this instead of you.

“Look, about what you saw at the kickback last weekend…” Your gaze met her own and your hand reached up to rub the back of your neck.

“You don’t need to explain yourself, it’s okay,” Mikasa spoke, giving an awkward chuckle. You could tell how her back stiffened and Mikasa prayed you didn’t see the way she instinctively rubbed her thighs together remembering the thought.

She felt so perverted. Mikasa had been avoiding you on purpose because she hadn’t been able to get the sight out of her head. Why had you looked so good that night pressed up against the wall, your head thrown back and a cry caught in your throat? Honestly, Mikasa thought she’d lose her mind with that memory ingrained in her head. What made it worse though was that this fantasy she’d constructed was made better by the fact that Armin was there. Sure, Mikasa had always found Armin attractive but after seeing that she couldn’t deny that she wanted him, no, she wanted both of you.

“No, no, M. I really feel like I need to explain myself, I mean that’s… so fucking awkward.” You laughed, dropping your hand from your neck. Admitting the awkwardness of the situation seemed to relieve the tension that had settled over the room. Mikasa gave a short laugh, her cheeks turning pink at the nickname.

“Look, Armin and I have been hooking up with each other. We’re like… mutually exclusive hookup partners, I guess?” You paused when you saw her quirk her brow in confusion, immediately jumping into the next part of your sentence as you assume what she’s going to say. “But don’t worry, it’s not like we have any feelings for each other or some shit! It’s uh- well, it’s just sex.”

Mikasa stayed quiet for a second before she tilted her head to the side and parted her pretty lips to speak. “I don’t… I don’t think Armin knows you’re exclusive.”

That… was not the reply you were expecting to hear. Mikasa must have picked up on your confusion because she spoke up once again.

“I mean he probably just didn’t know but, he’s been… sleeping with other people.” Oh. Well, that certainly breaks your rule about one partner.

It’s not that this bothers you emotionally, but you have this rule for a reason. It’s a hassle to deal with STD tests and worrying about all that shit when instead you could just have one regular and exclusive hookup partner. You were certain that Armin misunderstood, that he meant no harm because even though the man had a dick game for the gods, his “picking up on social cues” game was weaker than average. But sure, you were a little jealous, a little angry that he’d do that shit without asking, it made you vengeful. It made you want to get back at him.

Mikasa’s gaze lingered on you, searching for your response. She couldn’t read you, but the way your eyebrows furrowed had her thinking that you may be up to something. You definitely were, you were thinking about what you could do about this. Sure, it made you mad, maybe even a little hurt, and you were completely fixated on the idea of payback.

Meanwhile, Mikasa studied your side profile and the curve of your lips. Her eyes trailed down your neck and collarbone, over your breasts, and down the rest of your body. Fuck, you drove her crazy. She knew you had a lot of experience with both men and women, you just had that air of confidence about you that screamed “sexually experienced”. Mikasa was no blushing virgin herself, but she couldn’t shake the thought of the way you’d teach her. Your experienced hands running over her body and the way your tongue would roll against her. The thought had her rubbing her legs together to relieve the dull ache that was building.

The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel it too. You didn’t miss the way she rubbed her thighs together, the plush fat widening slightly as she shifted pressure. Mikasa had always been hot, but this was the first time you found yourself genuinely considering hooking up with her. You wondered how those thighs would look around your face and how the skin would feel under your fingertips. She seemed so submissive like she’d be such a good listener. You couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be good for you. Then Armin popped into your head. Fuck, you wanted them both at once.

That’s when it came to you and, without wasting any time, you leaned forward and whispered a sinful idea into Mikasa’s ear.

#armin x reader #mikasa x reader #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #armin smut #mikasa smut #armin x reader smut #mikasa x reader smut #armin x reader x mikasa #aot x reader #aot x reader smut #aot #snk #attack on titan #shingenki no kyojin #aot smut #snk smut #attack on titan smut #shingenki no kyojin smut #payback

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 13k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fxf smut, sub!reader, dom!hoseok, dom!bee, shibari/bondage, sex swing, fingering, safewording situation, aftercare, exhibition, voyeurism

A/N: chapters may not come every week, but i am continuing to post them now xx i appreciate your patience

DAY TWENTY-TWO

Normally, getting a text at ass o’clock in the morning would annoy Hoseok. Normally, he’d deny the offer to get out of the warmth of his bed and go down and have ‘a chat’ with someone at ass o’clock in the morning -

But then again, his bed is a little too warm with an extra body in it. Perhaps going downstairs is the better option. He rolls over gingerly, glaring at the man in bed beside him, separated by a wall of spare pillows. His blue hair doesn’t seem as harsh in the dim pre-dawn light, and his lips are plumper than ever, slightly pouted in his sleep. He looks peaceful, no lines on his face even though he’d gone to bed wearing makeup. One tiny hand rests propped underneath his face, making his cheek bulge, and the other clutches intermittently at the duvet, like he’s caught up in a dream. Park Jimin looks so content and angelic in his sleep. Hoseok narrows his eyes. Little shit.

It’s easy enough to get dressed and ready without disturbing the sleeping demon. Well - truthfully, he’s just shrugged on a hoodie over his sleep shirt and sweatpants to make them look less like pyjamas, but still.

By the time he gets downstairs, grimacing at the sharp lights of the kitchen, Namjoon is practically chewing a hole through the lid of a plastic bottle, gnawing at it with eyes rounded with worry.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Hoseok rushes forward, gently tugging the half-empty bottle out from between the younger man’s teeth, giving him a soft but reproachful look. “What’s going on, buddy?”

Namjoon startles with the sudden motion, eyes blinking slowly in a way that speaks to a lack of sleep the night before. “Oh good, you came,” he mutters absentmindedly, “I’m kinda freaking out.”

Hoseok’s brow pinches with concern. “I did notice that. You seemed pretty carefree yesterday; what’s changed?”

The academic bites his lip. “Sunmi was talking to me. Did you know basically everyone else is in a relationship?”

Whatever Hoseok was anticipating, it certainly wasn’t that. “Huh?”

Namjoon nods, frantic. “Y/n got together with Jimin and Tae, but now they’re kind of not? - I don’t know, Sunmi wasn’t that bothered about the details - and then Yoongi and Jin had their thing, obviously, but now Jungkook has a thing with Yoongi, and Tae and Jungkook have been fooling around too, and it’s like we’re the only ones left out. I didn’t even realise it, but we’re the leftovers, Hobi-hyung.”

Even as that comment sends a dagger right through him, Hoseok keeps his face neutral. “I’m sure that’s not the case, Namjoon. Nobody’s trying to leave us out.”

“I know that,” Namjoon replies quickly, an earnest nod, “it’s just that- Well, I want that, Hobi-hyung. I want to sneak around, I want to hold hands, I want to feel what it’s like. It’s not that I’m annoyed at the others, it’s just… it’s highlighted yet another area that I’m a total virgin in. I’m sick of always feeling behind on these things. I’m sick of it never being me.”

Hoseok swallows, reaching around to pat Namjoon on the back in what he hopes his a comforting gesture. This wasn’t as straightforward as aftercare; Namjoon was seriously hurting. “Listen, Joon, if you want to get into a relationship of any sort with them, you need to talk to them directly-”

“But I don’t,” the academic cuts off, looking more vulnerable than ever. In plaid pyjamas and round glasses with lenses thicker than the frames, hair still mussed up from restlessness, he looks totally lost. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. It’s like… I wouldn’t write an essay and hand it in straight away, you know? I’d write an outline, and then a draft, and I’d use the draft to make edits and write a second draft, and eventually I’d write the final product and submit it. Do you get it?”

Hoseok presses his lips together. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Namjoon bites down hard on his lip, making the flesh go white, and bloom red when he lets go to speak. “Hobi-hyung,” he begins slowly, “are you interested in any of the people here romantically? Are you wanting to get into a relationship like that?”

Fear shoots through Hoseok instinctively, but it’s soothed by the reassurance, it’s Namjoon. He can be honest with Namjoon. “No,” he admits, waiting for his face to fall.

Instead, the opposite happens. Namjoon’s brows smoothen with visible relief. “I want you to be my first draft, hyung.”

Hoseok tilts his head. “Now would be a great time for you to explain the metaphor, Joonie.”

Namjoon sucks in a deep breath and slips off his glasses, blinking owlishly like being a little blind is preferable before he speaks. “I want to pretend to date you, just for a bit. Just to see what it’s like. It can be a trial run, we’ll stop whenever we want. But you’re the only one in this house I trust like that.” He pauses, fingers twitching where they rest clasped in his lap. “Feel free to say no, though.”

Perhaps Hoseok’s mind is a little slow from waking up, but he barely comprehends the implications of what Namjoon is telling him. “You felt left out when the others were trying to have secret relationships or sneak around the rest of us… so you want to… pretend to do that?”

“Well- no, we wouldn’t have to hide it,” Namjoon says slowly, fingers reaching for the water bottle. Hoseok lets him have it, but watches out to make sure he doesn’t begin gnawing on the lid again. “I just think it would be nice to be the one doing couple stuff for once, don’t you think?”

Upon hearing these words, Hoseok begins to feel his very bones shake. It’s the uncontrollable trembling that seems to pass over him every time he gets close to breaking the seal - close to coming out. As always, he has a choice. It only takes one more look at the openness on Namjoon’s face to decide. “Joonie, I’m aromantic.”

Namjoon sucks in a silent breath of surprise. “Huh? Really?”

Now that it’s out there, the silence feels so much more deafening. “Yeah.” He doesn’t know what to say. Should he explain himself, apologise, give excuses-?

“That doesn’t change my opinion of you, you know that, right?”

Hoseok blinks. Namjoon seems more awake now, more alert and calm. “I- What do you mean?”

“You’re my best friend on this show,” Namjoon admits shyly, “you’ve taught me a lot, and I feel so safe with you. I didn’t come to you because I thought you’d want to actually date, so please don’t think I’m going to feel disappointed. It’s really special that you felt comfortable enough to- oof!”

Before Namjoon finishes, Hoseok is barrelling him over in a tight hug. Namjoon’s arms bracket around him, and the dom could just about purr with the warm fuzzy happiness that bubbles in his chest. “Oh, Joonie! You’re my best friend here too!”

Namjoon hugs him tighter now. “I’m so glad, hyung,” he murmurs softly.

Not wanting to leave this embrace, Hoseok lets his eyes slip closed and rests his chin on Namjoon’s shoulder. “I think fake-dating sounds kinda fun, by the way. We can take the b out of bromance. I wanna see how the others react.”

Just as the breathy sound of Namjoon’s gleeful laughter light his ears, a darker, more bemused chuckle drowns it out.

“Fake dating, huh?” a voice drawls, causing the two of them to jump apart like they’d been stung. “As if things couldn’t get any cheesier around here.”

Namjoon rubs his eyes, looking even more disheveled than when Hoseok first saw him. “Yoongi?”

Hoseok swallows as the raven-haired, cat-eyed beauty standing across from them scowls. “Not quite, buddy.”

The academic fumbles for his glasses and slips them on, gasping as Min Yoonji comes into perfect focus. “Oh! Uh, good morning! You can ignore what you just saw and heard.”

“Absolutely not,” she counters easily, sitting gracefully on a stool at the breakfast bar. Far more awake and presentable than the two of them, she looks sleek and fashionable in a pale silver blouse, black sash tied around the collar, and sleek black pants. Her eyes rake over the two of them, mouth turned down in a frown. “No one would believe it,” she says finally.

“Excuse me?” Hoseok questions, feeling distinctly like a petri dish being studied by a disdainful scientist. He spares a glance at Namjoon, who shifts uncomfortably and fiddles with his pyjama sleeves.

Yoonji just shrugs like it’s obvious. “If you told them now that you’re dating, they’d assume it was a joke. You need to set it up, build a narrative,” she explains. “How about this? I’ll spread a rumour that I saw the two of you making out down here, then you lay down some clues like sneaking off together or fucking each other with your eyes over the dinner table, and boom, everyone will think you’re boning. Bonus points if you can get someone else in on it.”

The two stay silent for a few seconds before they realise Yoonji is waiting for an answer. “Uh,” Hoseok states eloquently.

“Thank you?” Namjoon questions.

Yoonji huffs, eyes rolling skywards. “You two are hopeless. I’ll do what I can, but it’s going to cost you.”

“Are we- what- is this a deal? Are you negotiating with us?” Namjoon stammers, taking his glasses off to clean the lenses with the edge of his shirt even though they were fine before.

“There is no negotiation,” she explains. “I’ll keep your secret and help you. In return, you need to send me a text the second Yoongi tries to put the moves on anyone so I can get the fuck out of the house. I’m not asking for much, but it is very important to me.”

The absurdity of the situation dawns upon Hoseok suddenly, and an unstoppable grin stretches across his face. “It was never about helping us, was it? You just wanna make sure you don’t accidentally walk in on your brother getting railed.”

Yoonji grimaces sharply, shaking her head like she’s trying to dispel the thought. “If you aren’t interested in the deal, I’ll find someone else to blackmail, simple as that.”

“We can do it!” Namjoon volunteers, straightening his back.

Hoseok quickly nods in agreement, watching Yoonji’s shoulders dip in relief. “Sounds fair,” he summarises, “but we’ll need your phone number to do that.”

Yoonji does an almost perfect job of masking her pleased smile with a pointed glare. “Give me your phones, then.”

--

By the time everyone is seated (bar Yoonji, who has apparently taken over her brother’s room to watch Netflix while the rest of you talk ‘business’) and Sejin walks in, you’ve made your decision.

Unlike the first week, the individual doesn’t know in advance, and it’s this guilt that makes you stubbornly avoid eye contact with them all.

Taehyung had also been given the pass to not join the meeting, but he’d shown up anyway for morale. Or, rather, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly and taking a nap on your shoulder. You couldn’t deny it was comforting to feel his body heat, albeit unconscious.

Yoongi sits on the other side of Taehyung, luckily not pressuring you into conversation, and the two other couches are making conversation amongst themselves when Sejin cuts them short to start the meeting.

“Thank you for being punctual, everyone!” he begins cheerily. Perching on the edge of the coffee table, he rubs his palms together. “It’s time again for the elimination vote. Before I ask Y/n to make her decision, the current six Gentlemen have the chance to defend their position in the game. Starting from the left with you; Namjoon.”

Fuck. Now is the point where you can no longer avoid eye contact with everyone. Leaning into Taehyung’s embrace a little more - the sleeping boy grumbling as you shift beneath him - you look up tentatively towards Namjoon.

He looks a little nervous, but no more than he usually gets in these meetings anyway. Hoseok’s hand rests on the back of the couch behind the academic, who seems perfectly comfortable in the crook of Hoseok’s arm. “Y/n,” he begins, clearing his throat with a brief smile, “I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve spent with you so much, this past week especially. I know I still have some catching up to do when it comes to prowess in the bedroom, but I feel myself improving and once again I’m asking you to be patient with me, and keep me in the game a little longer so that I can do better next week, and the week after that.” He does a cute little nod when he’s finished, cheeks slightly pink.

Hoseok sighs out dramatically when his turn is signified, not shifting from his position. “I’m not above bribery, Y/n. If you keep me in this competition, I’ll take you to my workplace tonight and we can have a good time. If you vote me out, our little excursion will be to the worst Italian restaurant in Gangnam and order a margarita pizza with no cheese or sauce, extra anchovies and pineapple. And we won’t leave until you eat at least your half of the pizza.” He narrows his eyes at you, playful even in the face of elimination. “Are you willing to take that risk?”

You let out a genuine chuckle, shoulders jerking with the force of it. Roused from sleep by your movements, Tae pouts and rubs at his eyes. Even with his hair sticking up at odd angles, he looks so gorgeous that it takes your breath away. As he sits up and adjusts his position, leaning with his back against your side and tugging your arm over him like it’s a blanket, you can’t help but feel a pang of regret for voting him out so soon when you like him so much.

You bite down hard on your tongue, wincing at the pain. Would you come to regret the decision you’re making this morning, too?

Jin is next, and your heart thumps a little faster when you meet his gentle gaze. “I don’t have a lot to say,” he admits slowly, “at least, nothing that I haven’t already said to you. Spending time with you in any context is the highlight of my week, and I sorely hope that I don’t lose you just yet.”

That’s it for the couch to the left of you. Relieved nobody is expecting you to actually respond to these, you give Jin a tight smile and turn to Yoongi, staring at him over Taehyung’s bedhead.

Yoongi shrugs. “Y/n, I think you and I make a really good team. We’re compatible sexually, we get along well outside of that, and I know that you see it too. I’m pretty confident that I’m not the one going home this week.” You let out a light scoff at his faux air of certainty.

Finally, Jimin and Jungkook remain on the last couch. Jungkook is closer to you, so he’s next in line. The bright red streaks of his hair have faded a little, more rosy than before. It makes him look even softer as he sits cross-legged on the couch, the long sleeves of his baggy black shirt tangled up in his lap. He looks genuinely worried, unable to front a smile to you. “Um, I would-” He breaks off suddenly as his nose twitches. “I’d be really sad if you eliminated me,” he confesses in a small voice. “I don’t wanna guilt trip, but, um, I really wanna stay in.”

Your heart aches at the way he drops his chin and stares at the carpet blankly. Beside him, Jimin looks equally pained, and his voice is softer than usual when he speaks up.

“In terms of defending my place in the game,” Jimin says slowly, “I can promise that I’ll keep things different and exciting every week for you and that things will be a lot more fun if you keep me in.” He eyes crinkle fondly. “But I trust your decision either way.”

You suck in an unsteady breath. With everyone’s petitions complete, there’s nothing standing between you and the decision you have to make. Though his words cut right to you, the person you’d chosen earlier hasn’t changed.

Sejin clears his throat after giving you a moment to think. “Who are you choosing to eliminate this week, Y/n? As per the current rules, they’ll be removed from the competition, but allowed to remain in the house on the grounds that they do not initiate any sexual contact with you.”

Making like Jungkook, you lower your gaze to the floor. “First of all,” you start, hating the way your voice sounds so small, “you’re all amazing. Just like last week, there’s no- there’s no easy choice. No matter who I choose it’s going to suck for us both, and I’m sorry about that.”

You pause for a moment, trying to think of the right way to phrase your thoughts. “I’m choosing this person because I think that while the sex has been, um, really good-” it’s futile to fight the blush on your cheeks but you duck your head lower anyway, “-it’s maybe not as exciting week to week as some of the other guys.” The eyes on you feel like redhot pressure points, and you try and loosen the tightness in your chest. “And if I’m totally honest, I think- I really like this person, but I think I’d feel a little more comfortable being able to explore that without the pressures of the competition.”

It’s the least you can do to lift your gaze up and to the left, giving him the dignity of a proper sendoff. “I’m sorry, Jin, it’s you this week.”

Perhaps the worst part of this morning is that Jin seems genuinely caught off-guard.

Or perhaps the worst part is the way his face falls into something grave and icy, standing up so abruptly that Hoseok recoils beside him.

Your heart sinks, your voice drowned out by Sejin’s even as you call out the same name.

“Jin,” Sejin commands, “you have to come back to- Jin!”

Though he was already halfway to the front door, Jin stiffly turns around and waits in the doorway. His eyes actively avoid you, glaring at the wall. Sejin excuses himself and takes him aside to give him the instructions on how to proceed.

It feels like a bucket of cold water has been dumped over you, pooling in your stomach, and you fight the tears that prick your eyes as Tae wriggles around beside you, pulling you into a hug.

You feel fingers card through your hair, even as his two hands stroke your back and hold you close. Glancing up, you’re met with the sight of Yoongi’s face, pained with sympathy, as he gently pats your cheek and continues to brush your hair.

“He hates me,” you murmur miserably.

Yoongi doesn’t contradict you, just letting out a sad sigh. “He’s upset,” he admits, “but he’s a strong guy. He’ll move past it.”

You protest weakly as Taehyung coos softly and pulls you closer, practically tugging you onto his lap so your legs hang over one side and your torso is snug in his embrace. The guilt is far worse this week than it was last time. It constricts your lungs, your veins, makes you feel weak with dread. “He likes me. He likes me and I did that to him.”

“Oh, sweetheart, we all like you,” Yoongi says, his hand falling to cup yours, swirling lazy circles on the skin of your palm.

“Not like that,” you counter, “not like Jin does.”

For a moment it seems like Yoongi is going to disagree with that, but he drops it, squeezing your hand and standing up. “I’m going to make us something to eat. Maybe a hot stew would cheer everyone up a little bit.”

The chances are low, you think, but you would never turn down his food. “Sejin still hasn’t assigned the new prompts and told us about the new week, though,” you point out, glancing over to the two men still in the doorway. Even seeing Jin for a second jolts you like an electric shock, so you turn and bundle your face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck, feeling the soft fibres of his box-knit cardigan against your chin.

“Then Sejin can make himself useful and chop some vegetables while he does it,” Yoongi counters with a pompous sniff as he leaves, and in spite of your own misery, a chuckle overcomes you at the thought of it.

“There’s that smile,” Taehyung croons, a finger tipping your chin up. His eyes are two brown pools of comfort that you can’t help but get lost in. “Jin will survive. I did!”

You straighten up once you hear the sound of shoes approaching again, smile dropping. But this time Sejin stands alone.

“Yoongi, out of the kitchen, please,” the producer sighs.

With one foot hovering over the border where carpet meets tile, Yoongi freezes. “I’ll make you an extra serving,” he bargains, “you can even pick the meat.”

“Out of the kitchen,” Sejin repeats in a stern voice, “can we have at least some decorum during the meeting?”

“But I’m hungry,” he defends. Sejin doesn’t reply, simply flattening his gaze. As everyone waits, Yoongi slinks back like a sulking cat, perching on the edge of the couch beside you and Taehyung with his arms crossed in defiance. “Do I get to pick out the prompts again?”

“No. Let’s get started, please.” Taking a breath so deep it lifts his shoulders, Sejin calms himself and clears his throat, standing in front of the seven of you. “The theme of this week is Limited Edition. I’ve got five prompts here; come up in any order.”

Taehyung slides you off his lap so smoothly that you barely notice it’s happened before he’s standing up with a stretch, waltzing towards Sejin’s outstretched hand.

Sejin realises at the last minute and tugs his hand back the second Taehyung’s fingers brush one of the slips of paper. “Taehyung, you know you can’t take a prompt. Sit down.”

Without pause, Taehyung spins on his foot, strolling right back to your couch as if nothing was amiss. “Worth a shot,” he mutters when he sits back down beside you. You know this is just his attempt at cheering you up, but that doesn’t make it work any less. Tucking your arm around his, you lean into him and watch as the first actual contestant takes his prompt.

It’s Yoongi up first, clearly wanting to expedite the process as much as possible, but when he snatches the topmost fold of paper, the text written inside gives him pause. His brows furrow, then lift in realisation, before he collapses back beside you, drumming his fingers on the arm of the couch thoughtfully.

Jimin is next, selecting the next one in the splayed-out pile. His head cocks to the side, turning to Yoongi with a curious look. “Oh,” he comments mildly.

“Yeah,” Yoongi agrees, and Hoseok, who’d previously been stunned into silence with Jin’s sudden mood change, springs up with a huff.

“What is this oohing and aahing all about,” he grumbles, quickly picking a prompt and holding it close to his chest like he’s worried someone will peek. The second he looks at his, however, his face falls. He tries to recover with a light laugh, but you don’t miss the way he eyes the remaining slips in Sejin’s hand like he longs to trade his in.

He sits down though, patting Namjoon’s thigh to get him to go up. Oddly enough, Namjoon also looks stricken when he reads his prompt, showing it to Hoseok with a nervous gnawing of his lip.

Jungkook is the last one left, and at this point you’re uncontrollably curious but also wary about what these prompts could contain. Interestingly, though, Jungkook doesn’t seem disappointed or worried, but instead scrunches his nose and giggles at the prompt, tucking it into his pocket before joining Jimin and poking his side until the older man shows him his prompt, snickering even more at the sight of it.

“Alright,” Sejin starts, cutting off your train of thought, “now that we’ve finished that, the last point of discussion is the Bangasm Bomb. This week, the special challenge is called Viewer’s Choice. Each day, there will be a random poll taken on the official Bangasm twitter. It will correspond to each prompt, and the next morning, one of you will get a text. That means you have to complete your prompt that day, using the winning vote of the poll. If you fail to include this aspect, you’ll fail overall even if you successfully completed the actual prompt. Make sense?”

Jungkook stares blankly. “Could we have an example?”

Sejin shrugs. “The first poll was posted at 10am this morning. The four options are: standing, lying down, sitting and kneeling. Whichever position wins the poll must be included in the scene tomorrow. If, tomorrow morning, you get a text from me with one of these options, that means you need to complete your prompt that day using the winning option of the poll.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says slowly, mulling it over, “yeah, I get it now. So we don’t get to choose when we go?”

“Not this week, no,” Sejin explains, and then clears his throat. “Well, then. That’s all from me! I need to go make sure Seokjin is behaving.”

The mention of the recently-eliminated member sobers everyone up. Yoongi returns to the kitchen with less vigor than before, Hoseok joins him to make himself a drink, Jungkook comes over to the couch with you and Taehyung and wedges himself between the two of you, so sullen he doesn’t even speak.

In the end, the seven of you decide to eat lunch in front of the television, putting on a mindless sitcom that nobody really focuses on. Yoonji comes down once Yoongi texts her for lunch, and she sits on the floor with her bowl propped up on the coffee table.

Time passes, and Jin doesn’t return inside.

For a while, there’s an unspoken assumption that he’s still in the confessional shed with Sejin doing his exit interview, but once Jimin pokes his head out the front door and sees the producer working away in the production van, that idea is shattered.

“He’s okay, right?” Taehyung asks abruptly as a laugh track echoes hollowly around the room.

No one needs to ask who he is. Yoongi shrugs. “He’s an adult,” he offers, but the glint of concern is as much alight in his eyes as anyone else’s.

The thought only sustains peace amongst you for so long. Jungkook is glum, Hoseok looks anxious, Namjoon grows restless and begins chewing the end of one of his chopsticks. Even Yoonji has her brows furrowed, jaw tense.

Eventually, your worry overcomes you, and you grab the remote and mute the TV, pitching the room into silence. “I’m going to find him,” you announce.

“Y/n…” Yoongi says reluctantly, but your mind is made.

Not bothering with shoes, you unlock the front door again and slip outside, immediately turning the perimeter to go look for the missing gentleman.

Half-expecting him to be sulking in the confessional booth still, a strike of alarm thuds in your chest to find it empty. You inspect the poolside, the patio and outdoor dining area, but Seokjin’s nowhere to be found.

It’s just as you’re about to give up and return inside that you spot him.

Barely more than a smudge in the distance, you see his tall figure sitting, hunched up, on the very outskirts of the gravel path. He picks up pieces of rock, throws them half-heartedly, and he’s so far away that you can’t even hear them clatter. You recoil at the lonely sight, fighting the urge to run to him.

When you return inside, all eyes are on you. “He’s right on the edge of the property,” you explain miserably, “as far away from me as he can get.”

“Oh, Y/n,” Jimin says softly, eyes brimming with sympathy. From the silence around the room, there’s not much else to say.

You bite your lip. “He probably doesn’t want to talk to me, but can someone please go get him before it gets dark? I’m going to my room for a bit.”

Nobody protests, and you heave yourself up the stairs. By the time you flop onto the bed in your room, door locked behind you, you feel heavier than solid stone.

You’re too distressed to sleep, but guilt pulls at your limbs and leaves you unable to get out of bed for the rest of the day.

--

By the time you’re called down to go on your excursion with Hoseok, part of you wants to cancel and wallow in your self-pity a little longer. But Hoseok had clearly been looking forward to it so much, and you can’t deny the allure of escaping the Villa, even if only for a few hours.

Hoseok beams at you warmly as he greets you at the car idling outside. With his hair fluffy over his brow but his clothes sleek black, he’s like an enticing halfway point between Hoseok and Master. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting his clear skin in a rich orange glow. “Ready?”

You return his smile, albeit with a little less vigor. “Let’s get out of here.” When the two of you get inside the car and it pulls down the driveway, there’s no lone figure throwing stones on the perimeter of the property. Your heart tugs in a way you can’t quite articulate.

Though you try not to, it’s impossible not to mentally take stock and compare this experience to your previous nights out. Far more than Jimin and Yoongi, Hoseok keeps you talking. Whether it’s him trying to keep you distracted, or just his natural brand of social vibrance, there isn’t a quiet moment.

It isn’t until the car has wound its way deep into the city that Hoseok gently clears his throat, cutting off his own spiel about his favourite brand of bucket hats. “It seems we’ve reached a crossroads,” he announces meaningfully.

You frown as you glance between the seats and out the front window. “That’s a roundabout, Hoseok.”

His eyes shift. “Metaphorically.”

“And what might this metaphorical crossroads entail?” you ask teasingly, a smile curling your lips.

Hoseok stays uncharacteristically sober, leaning towards you as the car creeps forward in the blocked-up after-work traffic. “Our location, princess,” he says softly.

“I thought we were going to your work?” you respond in confusion.

“At the moment we are,” Hoseok replies. “But there’s a cinema just down the road, several great food places, even this fancy smoothie shop that lets you pick your own ingredients.”

“Okay…” The rhythmic click of the turning light echoes through the backseat, making you feel entranced as you watch Hoseok’s eyes warm, focused on you. “Do you not want to go to your work?”

“This is about you now,” he corrects in a kind but firm voice. “Do you want to go to the Red Room and play?”

“Yes,” you say instinctively, but the dom just shakes his head.

“No,” he states unflinchingly, “I need you to think about it longer than that. Do you feel emotionally, mentally, and physically in a position to do a scene tonight?”

You suck in a breath slowly, taking the time to run over them one by one. Physically was the easiest one. Your sex drive was quickly reconfiguring the longer you spent on the show, and even just a day without any action at all was making you feel a little restless and unsatisfied. Emotionally and mentally gave you pause.

How can you untangle those two when your mind and your heart feel knotted together inside you? Whenever one lights up, the other just reflects it. The moment you think of Jin, guilt overcomes you, but that just sparks your desire to flood yourself with distractions and escapism. But then the thought of being out here, enjoying yourself while he’s still stuck in the Villa, probably seething in hurt or rage or betrayal… The guilt just flares even colder in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you admit after a moment of silence. Hoseok hums once, inviting you to speak further. “I really want to. But I don’t know if I should. I just want to forget about everything, but maybe that’s a bad reason.” You blow out a deep breath, cheeks puffing up. “I don’t know; you’re the BDSM expert. Is it okay if I do it to just distract myself?”

Hoseok stays silent for a moment, eyes roaming over you like he’s searching for something. “That depends,” he answers finally. “If it’s a recurring problem in your life, and you use BDSM as a coping mechanism, then that can be unhealthy. Just like drinks or drugs. But at the same time, it’s very common that BDSM is a way of emotional or mental release. Office workers who feel like they’re working the same 9 to 5 every day with no power might want to feel like they have control and excitement in one area of their lives. Maybe CEOs or lawyers or doctors or parents might want to go to a BDSM club and submit so they finally can release the burden of expectation. To have someone else take care of them and make the decisions for a few hours.”

The dom sighs out slowly, eyes softening in empathy. “Y/n, you know that I can’t tell you whether it’s okay or not. I can’t consent on your behalf. You need to decide for yourself if you’re using this as a release, or as a dependent coping mechanism. Do you understand?”

You nod silently, not trusting your voice for a moment. Though he can’t decide for you, his explanation brings a clarity that strikes deeper than you originally intended. “I want to feel taken care of,” you offer up, voice thin like blown glass as your eyes prickle. “I just want to feel good for tonight, Hobi.”

Hoseok nods with a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder gently. “Then I have another question, princess,” he starts. “You said you were wanting to forget about everything. Would you enjoy your time more if you played with someone else?”

You’re tugged out of your brief lapse of emotional vulnerability by the statement, cocking your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Hoseok’s lip twitches as his eyes brighten a little. “Mistress Bee has an opening that she kept just for you,” he reveals in a honeyed drawl, “if you want to use it. Her and I spoke about it earlier. If you’re anything like me, the constant presence of cameras and the whole competition can start to weigh pretty heavily. I think it might be good for you to let yourself be separate from it entirely for a while. Have some fun for fun’s sake. What do you think?”

The idea is something you’d never considered, yet you can’t deny there’s something incredibly appealing about cutting your ties - even just for an evening - and not having to worry about anything to do with the show. But still, you hesitate. “Where would you be?”

Hoseok shrugs easily. “If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. I could sit near the two of you, or just hang around in the main den so I’m out of sight but still not far. And if you really want some distance, I might just go next door and make myself a custom smoothie. Either way, I’m happy.”

You startle when the car suddenly halts, a jerky job of parking down a side street. You’re here. A strange feeling of urgency overtakes you, like he’ll leave any second. You reach out and clutch at his shirt, feeling the press of buttons against your palm. “I want you to stay,” you say in a rush, knuckles going white.

“I’m here,” Hoseok soothes with warm eyes, unhooking your fingers from his shirt one at a time, before squeezing your hand and resting it back in your lap. “I’ll stay, princess.”

Outside, the air is still warm with the remnants of the set sun, even as lamp posts cast white pools of light onto the pavement. On one side of the car - as it reverses painfully slowly back onto the main street - you can spot the smoothie shop Hoseok was talking about, but on the far side is a Daiso store, and on your side, just in front of you, is the entrance to a cinema complex.

You pause, frowning in confusion, but before you can turn to ask Hoseok, his hand is already on the small of your back, leading you towards the cinema.

“We’re downstairs,” the dom explains, pointing out a sign you’d missed that displays the now-familiar logo of two Rs back to back, beside the B that indicates it’s located in the basement. As he leads you past the small foyer of the cinema and down a set of modest hardwood stairs, his voice lowers. “Although all the walls and ceilings are soundproof, having a bass-boosted movie blasting above you certainly helps drown out the rest of the noise. Gives us a bit more privacy.”

“Clever,” you comment absentmindedly, but your attention has already been caught by the sight that greets you below.

The moment you round the final corner of the narrow stairs, it’s like an entirely different world. Without any natural light, the entryway you step onto is lit mostly with wall sconces, though there’s strip lighting along the very edges of the hallway that glow an ominous red.

In front of you is a roughly oval room. In the centre, a woman with a shaved head and long acrylic nails taps away at a monitor, glancing back and forth from the screen to a large black book just beside it. She glances up when you step down, smirking at Hoseok with clear recognition.

Flanking the outskirts of the room are two bulky bodyguards, and you don’t even notice them until they relax and give him a nod. They seem to protect not only the receptionist but three sets of doors as well.

On the left is a locked door marked with letters engraved onto the wood itself reading STAFF. On the far right, the almost identical door there has no lock, and displays instead CHANGING ROOMS. In the middle, directly behind the desk, are two massive doors with iron handles curved in the shape of flicking devil’s tails, complete with the pointed tips. Instead of any words, each door just has one of the Rs of the logo. Then again, it doesn’t really surprise you that there wasn’t any explicit title or description visible. This was a place that you only went to if you knew where you were going.

“I thought you were taking time off, Sir?” the woman asks in a teasing lilt. She’s almost intimidatingly gorgeous, and you fight the urge to shift closer to Hoseok’s side. Her eyes shift to you nonetheless and her grin widens. “Yet here you are, bearing a gift.”

“Not for sharing, I’m afraid,” Hoseok deflects, and it takes you off-guard to hear the audible difference in his voice compared to what you’re used to. He’s not fully in Master mode, but the bubbly ball of energy has been replaced by the suave charisma of someone who knows he commands the attention of any room. Just as you glance up at him, he looks down with crinkled eyes and lifts the hand on your back up into your hair, not quite tugging, but keeping it there for a moment before he lets his fingers slip through your locks again. He holds your eyes a second longer before turning back to the receptionist. “Red cuffs will do, Sim.”

With a sigh, the receptionist acquiesces, a small silver piercing just below her bottom lip glinting as she shifts and reaches into a drawer at the desk, producing a pair of cuffs that look exactly the same as the ones Hoseok had used on you a few days ago.

She stretches them out towards you, but Hoseok intercepts and chooses to put them on you himself. Though they come connected together by the chain, he unclips and pockets it once the leather is snug around your wrists, leaving you claimed but still free to move. The meaning of the red trim still makes you shiver when you run your fingertips over it, and the sight makes Sim chuckle.

“First time here?” You aren’t sure if the cat-eyed beauty in front of you is asking you directly or Hoseok on your behalf, but you nod anyway. She hums, closing the drawer and pulling a sheet of paper out of another one and placing it on the desktop. “Just because you’re coming in attached to the Big Man doesn’t mean you get to skip the rules. Read them over and sign anywhere on the page to show you’ve understood. And I’ll need to see some ID, verify your age and all that.”

Fumbling to pull your ID out of your wallet, you hand it over and take the photocopy and the outstretched pen from her in turn, scanning the numbered list of rules. There aren’t any surprises, luckily; it reiterates the cuff colouring, safeword systems and staff on site, as well as emergency exits and procedures. There are places to buy drinks and snacks inside, but only spectators can consume alcohol.

“There’s a station for toy rental inside,” Sim explains, handing you back your ID after noting down your details, “with its own set of rules and everything, but I’m sure your Master here will be using his own stash. Our staff wear black clothes with red logos and arm bands, you can’t miss ‘em. Just sign if you’re good, and you two can go on through.”

Hoseok waits while you read, sharing some smalltalk with the two bodyguards in the meantime. Once you sign off and hand the items back to Sim, who dutifully stamps the sheet and files it away, your dom turns to you with a pleased grin. “Shall we?”

The moment Hoseok wraps his slender fingers around those devil tail door handles and pushes them inwards, sound fills the room, no longer held at bay by the seal of soundproofing. Chatter, laughter, the general hum of crowds - they all fill the space around moans and cries and cracks of whips, every possible noise you’d heard on a porn video or experienced over the past three weeks.

It was debauchery in every sense of the word, and Hoseok slipped into the thick of it like a duck in water.

With a single finger hooked onto one of your cuffs by the silver loop, he pulls you in with him, letting you soak in your surroundings as he leads you.

Though you didn’t really have any clear expectations, you’re shocked by the sheer amount of people inside, all gasping at Hoseok and parting in front of him like an adoring sea. The first area is relatively cosy, clearly just meant for socialising.

Couches surround the edges of the room, except for a small bar manned by two insanely hot guys. One effortlessly shakes up a drink, biceps pumping with the motion, and the other chats up a middle-aged woman who appears to flirt back, ignoring the older man kneeling at her feet with a pleading look in his eyes.

They fall out of your sight quickly as you move through a doorway, the sound dropping off just as suddenly. It’s not quite silence that greets you in the next room, however. Just about bumping into a row of occupied seats, Hoseok adjusts your direction so that you move around the back of the room, but that doesn’t stop you from glancing towards the front, where a whimpering girl is strapped to what looks like a medieval set of pillocks by the neck and wrists, her face wet with tears but alight with ecstasy as a gloved man demonstrates to a rapt audience how to fit an entire fist inside her.

Your eyes widen at how openly they display the obscene act. Then again, how is it any different from what you’d been doing in the Villa? Whether it was an audience at home watching through a screen, you’d still let yourself be viewed in much the same way. As Hoseok keeps you stumbling down the back of the room and out a different doorway, you think more about what being that girl on the stage might feel like.

Moving so quickly through the seemingly endless basement, you’re startled when suddenly you’re jolted to a stop in front of an elevator. Hoseok punches in a code that has to be at least seven or so digits on a little keypad beside the doors, before pressing the down arrow.

“Where are we going?” you question, voice still hushed as if you were in the theater.

“Bee’s office,” Hoseok answers simply, but the realisation that you’re about to play with the gorgeous spitfire - with Hoseok watching, no less - fills you with a restless arousal. “She doesn’t know whether you chose to even come here tonight or not, let alone play with her. We’re going to give her a little surprise, princess. I guess I did come bearing a gift after all.”

Once the lift arrives, he steps inside smoothly, no longer holding onto your cuffs. You jump inside, watching him select B2 off the limited selection of floors. “This used to be a carpark,” Hoseok explains casually as you’re slowly lowered down. “But when it got bought by the cinema, they didn’t really need it, so they leased the first below-ground floor to us for a pretty low price. We originally just kept this lift for wheelchair access, but once we got bigger and expanded a little, we decided to move our offices downstairs for an extra layer of privacy.”

The elevator chimes, opening its doors to reveal a hallway similar in appearance to the entrance foyer you first walked into. “But we aren’t going to your office?” you ask, curiosity making your skin itch as he walks right past a door with the letter H on a placard beside the knob.

“Not this time, princess.” Hoseok halts again, and you catch sight of a new door, this one with a B. Spinning on his heel, your dom turns to you and pats your cheeks with a grin, lowering his voice conspiriatorially. “If you’re Bee’s present, we better wrap you up nice, hm?”

Things start to feel distinctly more real when Hoseok undresses you right in that very corridor. You can’t help but worry that somebody could come down in the elevator at any moment, or the service stairs behind you. Watching you squirm with a barely-contained grin, Hoseok does nothing to assuage those fears.

He allows you to keep on your panties, kicking the rest of your clothes to the side and slipping off his own jacket to lay over your shoulders. Though it’s a little big on you, it’s laughably inadequate in covering you up, made of some less-than-opaque black fabric that betrays everything below down to the moles and freckles on your skin. Hoseok looks somehow even more intimidating without the piece on, a fitted tank top exposing his taut shoulders and modestly sculpted arms.

“Knock, princess,” Hoseok instructs, not without the warm hint of fondness that colours his voice.

You do so with a shaky hand - shivering partly from excitement and partly from the chill of air conditioning that fills the hallway.

“I’m busy!” a muffled voice calls out brightly, making Hoseok tut with a rueful smile.

He leans in so that his cheek almost brushes the hard wood. “Do you want to be busier?”

A pause, then footsteps drawing closer.

Before the door even opens fully, Bee is cooing loudly on the other side, clapping her hands in clear joy. “I knew it! Come in, come in!”

Her bubbly personality is at odds with the glossy red latex that covers her body, heels clicking with every skipped step back into her office. Bee waves you in first, letting you enter before you hear her voice lower, asking for permission to touch.

“She’s all yours, feel free to play with her to your heart’s desire,” Hoseok explains easily, making arousal pool between your legs, “the red is for you and me tonight.”

“Splendid,” Bee chirps from behind you, and you jump when you suddenly feel fingers brushing up your spine, even through the thin fabric of Hoseok’s jacket. “Take a seat, chickie, let’s talk.”

In her office, the Mistress shows that same duality of a cheery personality with her dominance. A large corner desk sits in the corner, with a small board of polaroids pinned to the wall and a little terracotta pot of violets and a spray bottle of water just beside it. A small cup with various items of stationery is complete with a tall pen with a fluffy pink pompom on the end, and even from what you can glimpse, it looks like her screensaver on her computer is some stylised LINE friends character.

Yet move your eyes anywhere else in the room, and you see a metal cage in one corner, a flogger hanging from a clothes peg behind the door, various fixtures on the walls, ceiling and furniture that speak of restraint and punishment.

As you perch delicately on a lowset sofa across from her desk, you wonder if Hoseok’s office is much the same. It certainly looks like Bee would take in subs here to play with her, judging by the equipment. Had Hoseok spent evenings with submissive women and men in his office, making them kneel and beg and serve?

The thought stirs something inside you, and for a moment you think it’s jealousy. But then Hoseok beams at you with a salacious wink, settling onto the corner of Bee’s desk, and you realise that it’s less envy and more the feeling like there were parts of him you were missing out on. That there was still so much you had to discover of him, to experience with him.

You wonder if he’ll let you come back to see him here one day, after all this is over.

Suddenly, your view of him is obstructed by the deep red of Bee’s corset and latex pants, her hands on her hips. “You’re looking a little too much at him and not enough at me, chickie,” she croons, almost conspiriatorially as you crane your neck to meet her gaze. She tilts her head, lips curled. “Do we have to send him out?”

You shake your head adamantly, unable to stop your eyes from quickly darting behind her.

She chuckles. “Cute. So soft for her Master.” Your head feels hazy as she slips her fingers into your hair, stroking your head fondly. “I think your Master is soft on you too, baby.”

Without much fanfare, Bee swivels and sits herself down beside you, so close your shoulders and thighs press together. You suck in a breath at the closeness, but the domme just gets closer, flicking your hair over your shoulder and rubbing at the nape of your neck as she watches you intently.

“Did Hobi give you the full tour?” she asks in a low voice, the slight graze of her fingernails making you shiver. “What was your favourite room so far, I wonder?”

You go to shrug, put on the spot so suddenly, but before you can Hoseok pipes up. “The theater,” he states without room for disagreement.

At the thought of the room, you feel desire swim within you. The image of that girl, so vulnerable as a room of at least thirty strangers watched her, analysed her, enjoyed her pleasure just as much as she did. That image hadn’t really left your head since the moment you saw it. Before you even realised it yourself, Hoseok had known. Something about that made you dizzy with your want for him.

But tonight was about Bee, about the intoxicating feeling of being so close to a beautiful, powerful woman. The lady herself hums, pleased. “The theater,” she repeats in a low voice. “Do you like watching, baby?”

“She’s on a porn show,” Hoseok butts in again, his eyes like pointed furnaces on you, wetting his lips between words, “give her more credit than that.”

This time, Bee straightens up and narrows her eyes at the man across from you. “You can stop answering on her behalf, Hoseok, or I’ll put you out myself. You said I get to play with her tonight.”

“Yes, Mistress,” he retorts in a slightly sarcastic, petulant tone, but shoves his hands in his pockets and presses his lips together anyway.

Bee turns back to you, letting her fingers tuck beneath the collar of Hoseok’s jacket so that her palm rests against your bare back. Stroking slowly, she smiles, her eyes glittering. “We can play on the big stage if you want, baby. Would you like that?”

The opportunity, a little bit frightening but mostly extremely arousing, makes you squeeze your thighs together with a hard swallow. “Yes, please,” you mumble in a small voice.

Her smile widens, caramel skin positively glowing in the warm light of her office. “Perfect,” she drawls happily, before standing up, back arching slightly as she stretches. “Then there are a few rules you need to know before I take you out there.”

The two dominants share a look, Hoseok lifting his brow at something written on Bee’s face. “Really?” he questions in surprise, chuckling reluctantly. “You’re going all out, huh?”

Even as confusion overtakes you, you watch in rapt curiosity as Bee shrugs, slipping past him to open a tall, skinny cabinet just behind her desk. There’s a large, dark brown coat there, but her hand delves deeper, pulling out a thin yet tough-looking strand of nylon rope, a suggestive deep red almost the same shade as her bodice.

“I dyed these myself,” Bee explains, her voice light and warm like honey. You watch as she lets the length pass over her palm loosely. “I don’t know if Hoseok told you, but rope bondage is my specialty. If you wear this, everyone out there will know you belong to me.”

You bite your lip, heart racing as she slips off Hoseok’s jacket, chucking it towards him without a glance as she keeps her focus on you. Her eyes gleam as she slips the rope around your back, beginning to loop and fold it. “What are the rules?” you ask, voice already airy with the arousal that peaks your nipples and sends shivers down your spine with every drag of the rope.

If it was possible, Bee appears to have even more subdued prowess with ropes than Hoseok does, her fingers nimble and practiced, moving so quickly that it leaves lines of hot friction against your skin. “The rules?” she repeats casually. “Well, the first one is that I expect you to address me by my proper title. Do you know what that is?”

Swallowing the dryness in your throat, you nod. “Mistress,” you croak out, almost stuttering on the word that feels so unfamiliar on your tongue. Your cheeks heat up, embarrassment only heightened by how close she stands to you, flooding your senses.

“That’s right, chickie,” she praises, tugging the rope suddenly, making sure there’s no give as your bare chest is yanked forward. Satisfied, she tucks the ends in neatly and places her hands on your waist, taking in her work. It’s a basic chest harness, like one you remember Hoseok putting you in, but there’s beautiful flair all over, with arches and keyholes and braids that slip between your breasts, along your spine, shoulders and ribs. Almost like a bralette, the main difference being that your breasts themselves are fully exposed to her - and Hoseok’s - roving gaze.

“Now,” she continues, “rule two. You don’t have permission to speak unless I ask you a question. I used the limit sheet for you that’s on the Bangasm website, but if there are any changes throughout the scene, the only words you can say at any time are your safewords. I’m sure you’re familiar with it, but here at Red we use the stoplight system. Is that clear?”

It’s easier to say the second time. “Yes, mistress.” Still, the excitement low in your belly just grows with the way she nods in approval. Your desire to please sets in quickly, and the rope on your chest and the leather around your wrists feel like a promise of what’s to come if you continue to please her.

Jerking her head to indicate that Hoseok should open the door for her, Bee turns to you and hooks a finger under a strand of the rope, just under your breast. “And the final rule is more important since this is my first time playing with you. If something feels good, you thank me for it. Like this.”

Before you can even process it, lips softer than silk press against yours, chaste but unforgiving as you’re pinned in place by the harness in her grip. She smells sweet, slightly floral like gardenia or jasmine, and she tastes like strawberry chapstick.

When Bee finally pulls away, your head feels hazy, on a lag. Your lips still tingle from the missing contact, but you let out a dreamy, “thank you, Mistress,” without even thinking.

She grins at your reaction and turns towards the door, pulling you behind her with that finger caught on the rope. “God, it’s been so long since I’ve had a sweet girl like you to play with,” she croons back at you, before patting Hoseok on the chest with her free hand. “Thank you for the gift, Hobi.”

There’s a strangely smug feeling inside you as Bee leads you out of the office, back into the chill hallway and up the elevator. Hoseok trails behind, and some part of you is thriving in that feeling of being the focus of his and her attention. And even as you’re led back into the theatre, going right through the middle of the seats before veering off to the right to go behind the wings, the eyes on you feel electric.

Just like that woman that was on the stage earlier - it now sits empty in an interlude, the audience chatting amongst themselves - you feel like a pillar of desire, a pretty thing for everyone to look at, but only for a few to touch. The red cuffs and red rope lift you higher into that headspace, submissive yet superior in a way.

The attention of those strangers is addictive, and any uncertainty disappears with the need for them to replace those brief glances of curiosity with full stares, the kind of intense focus that you’d only receive by being out on that stage.

There are a fair amount of people backstage. At least three or four people in black shirts with STAFF printed in glossy block letters flitter around, chatting to the others or checking equipment. The lady from earlier is still behind there, wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, like one you’d see in a sick bay in high school. A large man, beefy like a body builder, tenderly hugs her from behind as they sit on a couch, and takes a bottle of lemonade from a staff member, gently encouraging her to drink.

You hear Bee catching the attention of a staff member holding a clipboard, chatting to him, but your attention is caught by the woman. Her face is glistening with tears, sweat and even some drool, and she looks exhausted yet elated, giggling weakly when her dom pats her clean with a paper towel. With a kind of delicate care and patience that seems at odds with his rather aggressive appearance, his lips move close by her ear, words just meant to be shared between the two of them.

When you did intense scenes with the guys, did you look like that? The thought sticks in your mind as Bee’s bright voice remains in the background. There was something so loving and meaningful about the connection that you felt to the guys after a scene like that, and the couple in front of you seems like a physical representation of that emotion.

Suddenly, pain spikes in your chest at the reminder that you’ll never have that connection with Jin again, that every week you’d have less and less moments like those. And instead of cherishing them, you were here, about to do a scene with a near stranger, in front of actual strangers.

Suddenly, your original idea of escaping the Villa doesn’t seem to be as appealing.

Glancing up, that pain turns to alarm as there’s a missing presence around you. Bee is finishing her conversation, waving away the staff member before turning to you, but the two of you stand alone.

“Mistress,” you offer up, biting harshly on your tongue when you realise belatedly you’re breaking her second rule already, “where is Hoseok?”

Before she can furrow her brows for your disobedience, they knit together instead in concern. “He’s getting a good seat in the audience, chickie. Were you not paying attention?”

Your cheeks heat, and you apologise in a rush, letting your eyes dart over to the post-scene couple one last time. She’s fallen asleep, his chin propped up gently on the crown of your head, and you feel like you’re intruding by observing them any longer.

Bee notes your distraction, but just sends you a bemused smile and grasps your chin so that you’re forced to face her. “We’re going to go on now,” she enunciates clearly, and the reminder of reality clears your mind a little, “I’m due to teach a demonstration on bondage, are you okay with that? It’s nothing too intense.”

You nod quickly. Perhaps there was something wrong with you, or perhaps you were just kinkier than you thought, but in your experience, being tied up or tied down felt calming and grounding in a way that you think is necessary given the whole new world of live exhibition that you’re about to undertake. “I’m okay with it, Mistress.”

“Good. Keep our rules in mind, chickie; let’s go have fun.”

For some reason, applause is not something you’d considered, expected or prepared for. Your cheeks heat the moment you step out, lights so bright that the audience is swimming silhouettes, and are met with passionate clapping.

Though you know it’s for Bee - she drinks it in with a proud beam, totally in her element on stage - it’s an audible reminder of the attention on you right now. If your panties weren’t soaked through before, you can definitely feel wetness on your thighs now.

“Thank you, thank you, it’s good to be back up here!” she cheers out, and you jump when her voice reverberates. The sound carries in here so well that just a speaking voice seems to fill the room. You wonder if later on, your own moans will surround you in much the same way.

Bee lets go of her grip on your harness and ducks her head in, quickly instructing you to kneel in a ‘comfortable way’. You’re surprised when the stage floor is solid, yet not as painful as you’d expect on your bare knees. You adjust a bit so that the pressure is off your kneecaps and ankles, and look up at the domme, listening to her spiel.

“Welcome back to our Red Members, and welcome for the first time for any newcomers. My name is Mistress Bee, I’m the resident bondage, suspension and shibari expert here.” She pauses while a few scattered claps ring out, and you preen when she shifts to the side, stroking the top of your head as she continues. “Last week I did a demonstration with the lovely Mikey on some common suspension ties. From week to week, I want to teach you all the ins and outs of suspension, because it’s a very rewarding craft for the dom and the sub, but it’s also pretty complex. So before we get into off-ground suspension, this week I want to show you my favourite intermediate step: sex swings.”

Your heart thuds, glancing up so quickly that her hand falls over your forehead and eyes, but she just smiles placidly down at you and pinches your cheeks playfully, making a few of the audience members chuckle.

“I have a pretty little chickie here with me today to help me out. Seems like she didn’t guess what we were playing with today, huh?”

Unsure whether it’s rhetoric or not, you carefully mutter a, “no, Mistress.”

“It’s a fun surprise, then,” she quips, before turning back to the audience. With slow, clicking steps, she makes her way to the side of the stage you’d come from, gesturing to a couple staff members.

Your mouth goes dry as a industrial-looking metal post gets lowered from the ceiling, running parallel to the ground, but taller than your arms could reach standing up when it groans to a stop. Two guys rush on stage with a black pile of leather and metal, connecting the chains to the metal pole in two different places. The major component is a flat piece of stiff fabric, clearly meant for your body, with two leather loops on one side to prop up your legs. With the way they’ve hooked it up, you’ll be side-on to the audience.

“Sex swings seem a little cheesy,” Bee begins, and you jump when her voice comes from behind you, varnished nails running over the bare skin of your upper shoulders. “But they’re actually a really good stepping stone for suspension. The dom gets used to maneuvering someone else that’s off the ground, and the sub can experience what it’s like not having their weight supported by the floor at all. They’re also far more cost-effective than good quality suspension gear.”

As Bee explains, your eyes wince against the lights, trying to make out the blurred lines of people in the audience. Hoseok was in there, right now, watching you. But you couldn’t see him. Your heart beats a little harder in alarm, but you force yourself to keep in the scene, wanting to make the most of this unique experience.

The jingle of metal echoes through the modest theater as Bee checks the stability of the sex swing, and soon enough she’s instructing you to stand up and come stand in front of it. You do so as quickly as possible without running over, so excited about being put up in the swing for her to play with that you can barely stand still.

“Let’s get these panties off first,” she decides, hooking in a finger and snapping the waistband against your hip to make you jump. You push them down before you can secondguess it, and just like that, you’re naked in front of a room full of strangers.

Getting up into the swing would be a little awkward normally, but Bee’s unending charisma and charm makes it feel easy. She holds it steady while you do a little jump to rest your ass onto the flat bed, then gets you to lie down, praising you warmly even as she gives professional advice to the audience.

Lying down is okay - your head hangs a little off the edge, so that your vision is upside down and your neck is arched, but the fabric is surprisingly comfortable so it’s no imposition - but one she slips those loops past your feet, resting them in the crooks of your knees, everything suddenly feels very real.

This is exposure in a very different sense. There’s not much give in the chains for safety, but it means that your thighs are spread wide open with no way to cover yourself.

Bee’s rapport with the crowd watching is a steady stream of reassurance, but by the time she lifts your wrists, using the clips on the chain and the loops on your cuffs to bind them straight up, leaving you entirely vulnerable, your chest begins to heave, breaths quick and shallow.

“Still with me, chickie?” Bee questions, and you let out a choked moan when she circles round to your top half, cupping your breasts and rolling your nipples between her fingers softly, the contact grounding you. “Give me a colour.”

Remembering Hoseok’s advice, you pause and take a moment to really think it over. “Green, Mistress,” you decide, trembling when she rewards you by sliding her hand down your chest and stomach, two fingers dipping lower to feel how wet you are, stroking your clit. Your back arches, thighs tense, but there’s nowhere you can go to escape the pleasure she gives you. “Th-thank you, Mistress.”

Leaning over you, patting your cheek fondly, Bee beams down at you. “Good girl,” she praises warmly, before glancing out towards the audience. “So well-behaved, isn’t she? Should I give her a quick reward before we continue?”

Your eyes slip shut in bliss as you hear the audience cheer and clap in your favour, imagining one of them to be Hoseok, watching you from below.

After hearing out the crowd, Bee adjusts her position so that instead of up by your head, she’s between your legs, that hand still lazily rubbing over you as the other grips your waist. “Alright, I won’t argue with that,” the domme quips teasingly, and chuckles as you go rigid suddenly when those two fingers plunge inside of you, crooking up to massage your walls.

There’s nothing you can to do move towards or away the touch. The swing has you completely at her mercy, and that just makes every stroke that much more overwhelming. Bee fucks you on her fingers with a swift, unforgiving pace, and you whine as the obscene wet noise echoes throughout the room.

You feel dirty; dripping on stage as your fists wrap around the chains and your pussy tightens around her. But the taboo and debauchery just turns you on more, and the moment she increases to three fingers, you no longer try to hold back or muffle yourself. A loud cry spills from your lips as she presses against your g-spot, and her gleeful chuckle arouses you even more.

The knowledge that an entire roomful of people are watching you is so hot that you feel electric, but it’s the reminder that Hoseok is somewhere amongst them that sends you over the edge. You spasm in the swing as you cum, hard, and Bee doesn’t let up for a moment, taking advantage of your restraints to continue to fuck you through your orgasm, her other hand joining to rub roughly at your clit to make you sob in oversensitivity. It’s not until your toes and fingers tingle with the force of it that she finally slows down, taking her hands off you with a cheery sigh of exertion.

“Thank you, Mistress,” you try to say, though it probably comes out slurred or garbled. You shiver as aftershocks periodically thrum through your veins, making your muscles twitch, and your eyes slip open to the feeling of Bee pressing a chaste kiss of approval to the back of your hand, still bound to the chain.

“Now,” she says, still a little breathless, “onto the main event. One of the more difficult things of…”

Though you try and stay alert, your body is exhausted and satisfied, and the suspension just makes you feel even more floaty than you normally would after a good orgasm. Your mind flits in and out, and you feel at peace until you hear the echoing click click of heels on hard floor, and see the blurry figure of Bee disappearing backstage.

Alarm flares red inside you, making your heart beat overtime and your nerves screech. You wriggle your arms and legs, but there’s no give, and even as you crane your neck to the side, the stage lights prevent you from being able to find your dom in the audience.

There’s no use in trying to stay calm. Even as that clicking returns, Bee already returning to you, you feel unsafe and anxious, the safeword on your tongue.

But it’s not the safeword that comes out when you find your voice. “H-hobi,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as panic flares in your chest.

Before his name has even fully left your lips, there are hands on your shoulder, rough with callouses. There’s the familiar musk that grounds you, and the heat of a body that cradles your head and presses his lips to your temple, cooing sweet nothings to calm you.

Bee’s voice floats around you, apologising profusely not only to you but to the audience too, but as you open your eyes and see Hoseok, his eyes brimming with concern, you burst into tears of pure relief, wishing you could reach out to him.

Like he knows your needs without you even articulating them, he unclips your wrist cuffs from the chains one at a time, slowly helping you sit up as Bee’s hands are on your legs, taking off the loops that had held them spread open earlier.

The moment you’re up, you fall into Hoseok like he’s a lifeline, clinging to him as your tears wet his sleeveless shirt. His skin is hot against yours, and his chest seems to rise and fall faster than normal as he holds you tightly, stroking your hair.

“I’m here,” he chants over and over, the words like liquid comfort cocooning you. The audience slips away, even Bee taking orders from Hoseok on what to go get is tuned out as you lean into that feeling of security that Hoseok’s embrace gives you.

At one point, he wants to move you offstage for some privacy, but your legs won’t stop shaking. Without a word of complaint, he’s lifting you up with one arm under your ass and the other around your back, guiding you to wrap your arms and legs around him.

It’s all too easy to burrow your face into the crook of his neck and breathe in his scent, your heart rate slowing from the spike of adrenaline. By the time his weight shifts, and you feel the smooth, cool leather of a couch beneath you, exhaustion has seeped into your very bones. You barely have enough energy to focus back on his voice, but you force yourself to, blinking blearily as he cups your cheek and meets your gaze.

“I think I know what happened there, what spooked you,” Hoseok says slowly, his eyes deadly serious even as his fingers gently stroke your jaw. “Did you not like not being able to see or touch either of us?” You manage to nod weakly, and Hoseok’s brows furrow in internal guilt. “I’m so sorry,” he apologises hoarsely, “I should’ve warned her before, I should’ve been closer-”

He breaks off as Bee rushes over, face pinched, and hands Hoseok a folded up blanket. The feeling of the soft, yet slightly weighted fabric covering your naked skin feels like heaven, and it calms you just that little bit more.

Hoseok meets your gaze again. “Bee wants to chat to you, princess, to say sorry. Do you want to see her now or talk with her later?”

You feel guilty for saying it, but you just want to selfishly indulge in Hoseok now, no one else. “Later,” you admit, and the domme nods in solemn understanding, bowing her head at the two of you before departing.

“What do you need, Y/n?” Hoseok asks, in a voice so low it could be a whisper. You blink at him, at the deep concern on his face. “What can I do to make you feel okay? To feel safe and calm?”

You know the answer. It’s not something you’d admit normally, not something you’d request were you not feeling so terribly adrift and in need of comfort. You fist your hands in his shirt - wrists still adorned in red cuffs that said you were his - and wet your lips. “Kiss me?”

He pauses long enough that you think he may deny you, but then you feel his chest rumble with the words, “just this once,” before he dips his head and kisses you, slowly and carefully, like you might break. Your heart swells with every slight movement of his lips, but they’re gone all too soon, replaced by your own fingers as you touch your lips in wonder. “Better?” he asks in a strained voice, still stroking your back through the blanket.

“Better,” you reply, though already you miss his lips on yours. But feeling his arms around you, and his heart beat against your ear when you lie down is good enough for you, enough for now.

#bts smut #hoseok smut #bts x reader #hoseok x reader #ot7 smut #ot7 x reader #cypherwritersnet #kpopuniversenet #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #jin x reader #namseok #bts fanfic #bts series

[tobiosmilktea]

umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[027] — trust the victim!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: i literally just bought christmas gifts for my entire family and my bank account said 📉📉📉

“no, i’m good, thanks.” satomi deadpans for the umpteenth time today.

sure, those bear costumes were adorable and the cafe just behind the pair of mascots looked like a good place to eat, but this was not the time. if she were to be late to work, she hasn’t have the slightest clue on what her boss, mr. kono would think. she just hoped and prayed that she wouldn’t be fired, but especially after that one time went out with iwaizumi, she wasn’t sure anymore. missing work as a healthcare worker was already a serious ordeal, but being part of a professional team’s sports medicine team was on another level of seriousness. hell, she got suspended for an entire week just for a night, she couldn’t spare another minute.

“are you sure?”  the shorter bear asked again, “your dessert will be on the house if you eat now!”

satomi had a lot of patience. considering she’s good friends with bokuto and the physical therapist for the black jackals, it’s almost essential to have such a trait. yet by now, her patience was wearing quick.

“we’ll even throw in a free drink!” the taller bear added. their voices sounded awfully familiar.

granted, everything seemed awfully familiar today—from the couple she tried to help back at the coffeeshop and that random girl that accidentally bumped into earlier, but it didn’t matter now. she could not sacrifice years of hard work in medical school while finessing her way up the ladder to even work for a division 1 volleyball team for a stupid mistake.

something within satomi snapped, “i said i’m fine.” she huffed, pushing through the bear’s stuck arms holding promotional flyers. she stomped away, relishing the slight inkling of relief course through her as she finally escaped the pair. however the relief didn’t reign supreme for long once her eyes checked her phone.

shit, satomi thinks. i’m fucking late.

it was then did she push her weight off her right leg, running towards the gymnasium just a few blocks away. she felt like she was about to throw up her heart at any minute thinking of the consequences she would have to face once she entered that damned building. man, did she regret a lot of things by now. she wished to ignore the rising sting of her thighs that grew fatigued by the second, yet she’d rather think about the pain than beat herself up over her regrets.

satomi was well aware that she wouldn’t even be in this predicament if she didn’t say yes to iwaizumi. and yet, there was no way in hell did she regret going out with him. besides, she has a good feeling that their relationship could actually happen. maybe getting him drunk that one time was the best idea she ever had.

why else did he ask her out if he didn’t like her back?

her breath heaved as she pulled herself into a stop. entering the stadium doors, she was greeted by the security guard. she greets him back with a faux smile melting across her face as she reached into her bag for her id. “where the hell?” she muttered, “where’s my wallet?”

“is there a problem?” fujiyoshi, the security guard asked.

an annoyed scoff emitted from the girl. great, she thinks, can this day get any worse?

“sorry, fujiyoshi-san.” satomi says with the timbre of her voice suddenly turning sweet and provoking, “i don’t i have my id on me right now.”

the guard’s usual hard expression didn’t soften in the slightest and it kind of took satomi aback. usually guys would fall her sweet words, but she honestly wasn’t surprised that someone that’s a beefy security guard with muscles bigger than her head wouldn’t fall for that.

“you know i can’t let you in without a form of identification that you work here.” he dictates.

“oh come on, fujiyoshi!” satomi exclaimed desperately, “you see me walk inside every, just let me through!”

“no can do, ms. yahagi. we’ve been having security issues lately and this is just a necessary precaution.” 

satomi rolls her eyes, just put me out of my misery. “but you can't just—” she suddenly pauses as the black jackals and the rest of their sports medicine team make their way into the gymnasium. “bokuto! iwaizumi!” she shouts their names. the volleyball player and the athletic trainer look their way towards the girl a few meters away, held back by a security guard and the safety railing. “can you please tell this guy to let me in?”

by now the entire team was looking at her like a museum exhibit as all of them knew of all the fucked up things that she did. but honestly, if it wasn’t for sakusa and tomas holding back hinata and atsumu, who knew what those two would’ve done—maybe yell at her or just spoil all the fun of her suffering.

there was a level of confusion of satomi’s face when they all just stood there doing nothing. she gets that it’s strange seeing their physical therapist not be let in cause she forgot her id card, but things felt... different and she didn’t know what. did she have something on her face?

iwaizumi looks away, forcing himself not to look at the girl who used him for her own accord. he opted to think about you instead. meanwhile, bokuto continued to stare daggers at her, holding back a smirk as the sound of clicking shoes echoed from one of the hallways.

“hello?” satomi calls out again, “are you going to tell him to let me in?”

“that won’t be necessary,” a deep, guttural voice says, followed by none other than her boss, mr. kono, all suit-clad and his hair gelled back. “let her in,” he tells fujiyoshi.

“thank you!” she rolls her eyes before pushing through to the other side. she approaches the group of volleyball players and her medicine team, but is immediately stopped.

“come with me to my office.”

“what?” satomi asked, brows furrowing together as she walks to her boss instead. “did something happen?”

“i think you know,” mr. kono flickers a look towards iwaizumi before he disappeared into the gym. in an instant, satomi felt her breath hitch at the realization. she opened her mouth to speak. she tried so hard to force the words to come out between her lips but no excuse was good enough for her to get herself out of this one. maybe this day did get worse and she was absolutely speechless. “from personal experience, i always trust the victim.”

fun facts! —

when bo said that “it was time” it meant that they were going to report satomi, which wasn’t the plan at first since iwaizumi didn’t want anyone else to know

hinata, sakusa, atsumu, and tomas only knew of what satomi did, but they didn’t know that she did it to iwaizumi so they were extra mad

the entire msby team and their sports medicine team found out then so now she’s: ✨f-i-r-e-d✨

meanwhile, y/n, yuko, suga, kaori, and semi ended up eating at the bear cafe (they felt bad for akaashi so they order him takeout)

taglist: (closed!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @wheeshllumi @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogril @tiredandkindaoverworked @tsumue @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @unstableye @oh-tapeworm @scrappyfka @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto scenarios #bokuto imagines #bokuto smau #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi smau

[saynotoshityouhate]

Bluebird

Words: 1568

Summary: Your new relationship with Adam Sackler is put to the test when a close family member passes away. 

Tags/Warnings: angst, crying, death of a family member, funerals

Author’s Notes: This is based on an experience I had earlier this month, unfortunately. You could say I’ve been going through some shit lately. I found this helpful to write it all out - and although Sackler wasn’t there, I was surprised and overwhelmed by the support of my friends. 

____________

You ended the call in shock and began to cry, almost forgetting that you were on a date. You looked up at the man sitting across the table. “Uhhh, kid? Everything okay?”

You had been dating Adam Sackler for a couple months when you heard your grandmother had passed away. Things were going really great - he was funny, charming, and a perfect match for your quirky personality. You felt absolutely terrible that you basically shut him out over the next week, as you were so incredibly busy seeing to the arrangements for the visitation, funeral, and the various meals that went along with it. As the oldest grandchild, you felt an extra responsibility to do more to support your family, often at the expense of your own emotional and physical well-being. Adam tried his best, calling you (he wasn’t much of a texter), stopping by your apartment, bringing you Gatorade to replenish your electrolytes...he really was too good to be true. You just didn’t know how to process your own emotions, let alone let someone else in on those emotions. You didn’t want to burden anyone. Regardless, you didn’t have time to burden anyone - there were phone calls to be made, meetings to attend, and the guy at the flower shop was being a real pain in your ass. 

It was the day before the visitation and Adam had come by your apartment to bring you dinner from your favorite Chinese restaurant. You sat quietly on the couch together, eating directly out of the white paper cartons. You felt Adam’s intense gaze on you constantly, as if he was trying to read your mind - since you certainly weren’t going to share. “Kid - you good? What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” You answered with a mouth full of orange chicken. “Nuffin’ I’m fine,” you kept your eyes focused on your chopsticks, avoiding those hazel eyes. “Graaraggghhhaaarrrrr” Adam slammed his beef and broccoli onto the table with a loud groan, standing up from the couch. He began pacing the living room, hands in fists, primal noises escaping his plush pink lips. “Adam!” You shouted at him, setting your dinner down as well. “When are you going to knock off this ‘I’m too evolved to possibly need help’ act? I’m working my ass off here to get you to let me in! Let me help you, Y/N, you’re doing too much! Please!” Adam knelt down in front of you, grabbing your hands and looking up at you with his puppy dog eyes. You slapped his hands away, standing up and stomping across the room. “I am not too evolved! I’m fine - I told you that. Multiple times! And if you can’t understand that, maybe you should just leave. I have so much work to do for tomorrow, and you’re distracting me with your drama.” You pointed at the door. “Y/N...come on…” he sat back on his heels, eyes wide with worry. “It’s probably best that you just go...I’m sorry.” You opened the apartment door for him. Adam stood up to leave, walking towards you. He leaned in for a kiss, but you turned your head away. He settled for a kiss on the cheek, and a squeeze of your shoulder, as he exited. 

You locked the door, and leaned your back against it for support as you felt your entire body weakening. You closed your eyes and slid down the wall, collapsing into a puddle on the floor. Your body heaved with sobs so intense you didn’t even make a noise. Your eyes were screwed shut so tightly, but the tears still flew out of your eyes, soaking your face and shirt. You pulled your knees tight to your chest, the pain from the weight of the week slightly relieved by the opening of your shoulder blades. Opening your eyes, you completed your breathing exercise which usually worked to calm you down. In for four seconds, hold for four seconds, out for eight seconds. Repeat until calm. Your breaths began as shaky and stuttered, eventually evening out, causing a release of tension across your face, shoulders, and back. You could have kept crying for hours, but as you told Adam, there was too much to do. Thinking about Adam made your eyes well up again, but you shook it off. Focus. Pushing yourself off of the floor, you headed to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face. 

You barely slept that night, tossing and turning, thinking of the work to do the next day. You’d wake up, remembering something you hadn’t done yet, and roll over to write it on the notepad you kept on your bedside table. Looking in the mirror in the morning, your face was puffy and eyes bloodshot. You groaned. What a horrible day this was going to be. You took a quick shower and pulled yourself together as much as possible. You had three errands you had to run before getting to the funeral home to set-up. Getting into your car, you had a chance to look at your phone for the first time and saw two missed calls from Adam. Setting your phone on the passenger seat, you promised yourself you’d call him after the day was over. Choking back tears, you went through your day. With each item you crossed off the list, two were added. Your resolve was at risk of failing, but there wasn’t time to let that happen.

At 4:00pm, the doors were opened, letting in the friends and family who had arrived to pay their respects and share their sympathies. You stood tall and strong in the front of the room, wearing a simple, conservative black dress and sandals with the slightest heel. You knew you were going to be running around, and comfortable shoes were a necessity. You greeted the crowds of family and friends with hugs and handshakes, smiling at the compliments and accepting the words of sympathy. “You look just like her when she was younger.” “She was so proud of you.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, smiled, and said thank you before moving on to the next person. One hour into the two hour event, your cousin elbowed you in the side, pointing towards the door. “Who’s the giant? Someone from grandpa’s side of the family?” 

You immediately burst into tears. There, towering over a sea of white haired aunties, was Adam. Wearing a brown tweed jacket, blue button down and green tie, he was scoping the room in search of you. When he found you, he began swimming through the crowd of elderly visitors. “‘Scuze me! Fuck! Sorry! Oof!” You couldn’t help but laugh through your tears. Finding his way over, he stood in front of you, slightly out of breath. “Hey, kid.” Through your sobs you replied, “You came.” He sighed. “I’m always going to be here for you, kid. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” You crashed into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his chest, resting your forehead on his sternum. You stayed here and cried for what seemed like hours, Adam squeezing you back, while also managing to rub your back and stroke your hair. Adam stood by your side the rest of the evening, arm wrapped around your waist to hold you steady. You caught yourself introducing him as your boyfriend, to which he looked down at you and smiled, squeezing your waist in approval. 

He drove you home that night and you asked him to stay, where he held you all night, his large body intertwined with yours. When waves of sadness crashed over you during the night, he rubbed your back and walked you through your breathing exercises. He made you breakfast in the morning, where he asked you to tell him stories about her. He listened intently, smiling and laughing, and at one point even shedding a few tears. He stood tall and strong next to you at the funeral, smiling up at you as you read a bible passage in front of the entire church, kissing your cheek when you returned. In the car, after everything was over and done with, you turned to look at him. He chewed his lip as he drove through the crowded downtown streets, his dark shaggy hair falling into his gorgeous eyes. “I’m sorry I pushed you away, Adam.” You began to cry, reaching over to put your hand on his thigh. “I can’t imagine having done this week without you. Thank you - for everything.” He reached down to hold your hand in his. “Thank you for letting me in, kid. I was fucking scared, seeing you burnt out like that. You gotta talk to me, Y/N, you know I love the sound of your voice.” He squeezed your hand and pulled into a parking spot. “I’m sad this week is over - it means she’s really gone.” You looked down into your lap, tears spilling onto your cheeks. Adam wiped a tear off of your cheek. “You know she’s floatin’ around here or some shit - you just gotta be open to seeing her. Like over there!” He excitedly pointed to a bluebird that had landed on the railing of your front stoop. You smiled, taking a deep, cleansing breath, as you both sat in silence watching the bird before it gracefully flew away.

A/N: special thanks to @agirlwhoisaphantom and @weareallstoriesintheend​ for their support this past month. I wouldn’t still be upright without them. 

#adam sackler #adam sackler x reader #adam sackler angst #adam driver character universe #adcu #adam driver #adcu fic

[dirtyhelen]

i’ve got the girl on my mind (all the time)

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Featuring: Smut; Humour; Light D/S; Vaginal Fingering; Oral Sex

Words: 4299

Summary: Carol’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie is loose around her neck. Her eyes scan the room absently until her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and giving you a wink. 

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away.” 

“What—why?” 

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you here for either.” 

(Spoiler alert: it’s the second one.)

A/N: Woman Cozily Cupping Mug Secretly Thinking About Getting Absolutely Railed by Carol Danvers. This is just a silly little smutfic that I had way too much fun writing. Hope you enjoy! Title from Girls by Beatrice Eli.

“Hey.”

You look up from your computer screen to find Carol Danvers standing in your office doorway, still in her suit from the mission you’re currently writing your report on. She’s looking at you with the confident little half-smile you’ve become very familiar with over the past few weeks. It’s a look that never fails to bring a heat to your cheeks. And other places.

“Uh, hi,” you manage. You can see Bucky smirking at you from his spot lounging on your office sofa, his broken arm resting in a sling against his chest.

“Thanks for your help back there,” Carol says. “You too, Barnes,” she adds, with a nod in his direction. Bucky’s “help” in this case was mostly leaning over your shoulder offering unsolicited opinions on your work and avoiding the many elbow jabs you attempted to land to his ribcage.

It’s not easy being the Avengers’ favourite analyst.

“No problem. Anytime,” you reply.

Carol nods, says a quick, “See ya,” and then she’s gone, striding off down the corridor.

“Bye,” you sigh wistfully.

Bucky chuckles and your eyes snap to him. “You alright there, doll?” he asks, amusement clear in his voice. You glare at him and he only grins wider. “You just seem a little flustered is all. Heart’s beating a little fast.”

“Oh, fuck off, Bucky—you blush like a schoolgirl every time Thor looks at you.”

He squawks but can’t deny it. “Whatever,” he mutters, standing up and heading for the door. “Enjoy filling out your mission report and pining. I’ve got my own cocky blond captain to welcome home.” He winks, graciously letting the pen you throw hit him in the chest before he leaves.

You turn back to your computer and try to focus on your work, but your thoughts keep straying to Carol.

Bucky’s wrong; you do not pine. You only think about her when she’s around. And even then, only once or twice a day. Just casually wondering what she’s doing and if she might stop by your office.

Four or five times, max. Thinking about what she’s wearing, or if she’s done something different with her hair.

Okay, ten times total, on a bad day. Imagining how that easy confidence might translate to the bedroom. If her powers mean her fingers never cramp up, or if her jaw never gets sore.

Bucky’s right; you do pine.

You can’t help it! There’s just something about Carol that has you reverting to the heady infatuations of your teen years every time she’s around. She’s just so fucking cool. To the nerdy teenager you once were, she’s the coolest girl in school whose attention and approval you’re desperate for. To the nerdy adult you currently are, she’s the coolest girl in the universe whose attention and approval you’re desperate for and whose pussy you’d absolutely kill to eat like a five-course meal.

Luckily for your sanity (and your dominant hand), Carol’s not actually around that often. You only met her after the Snap was reversed, having been one of the Capital-D-Dusted, but she seems to spend most of her time checking in on the gazillion other planets in the universe.

At least, she used to. Apparently in the last few months she’s decided to reconnect with her birthplace, because suddenly she’s spending more time on-planet than off. This means the chances of her stopping by your office or running into you on the new-new compound have gone way up. Once every few months has become once a week or more.

Today’s little exchange is the second time she’s found you this week. She stops by, stands in your doorway in ripped jeans or a leather jacket, smirking like a fucking female James Dean, while she casually compliments your outfit or your work or the music playing from your computer. Which would be great—if you had any idea what it means.

You know what you want it to mean, but you and Carol have been doing this little dance for weeks now and she hasn’t so much as asked you if you like coffee, let alone invited you to drink some with her sometime.

Sure, you could ask her out, but you’re not about to risk getting rejected by Captain fucking Marvel and then having to guide her through some villain’s lair over comms the next day.

Shaking your head to try and physically dislodge all thoughts of Carol from your brain, you settle back into your mission report, determined to prove Bucky wrong for at least another hour or two so you can finish up and get home to your empty, lonely apartment.

+++

A couple of weeks and a handful of run-ins with Carol later, you’re standing in a ballroom on the compound in your nicest dress, taking a night off from thinking about Carol. Or trying to, anyway.

The Stark Foundation is hosting a charity gala, raising money for relief efforts for those impacted by the reversal of the Snap. It’s not really your thing, but the Avengers are required to attend and you never pass up an opportunity to watch Steve try to withhold his deep annoyance at having to interact with the richest members of American society.

“Look at his hand, Buck,” you point out. “We’ve reached the clenched fists portion of the evening.”

Bucky nods, taking a sip of his champagne. “Next up—the jaw muscle.”

“Poor guy,” you sigh. “He looks great, though.”

“That he does,” Bucky agrees, eyes scanning the room. “Speaking of looking great—” He lets out a low whistle, nodding his head toward the bar. You follow his gaze and your jaw drops.

“Oh my God.”

“Yep.”

“Look at her.”

It’s Carol, because of course it’s Carol. You weren’t expecting her to be here tonight—she’s not an Avenger in any official capacity and she doesn’t seem the type to enjoy a fancy party—but there she is, standing at the bar talking to Nat and surrounded by a handful of the One Percent.

And she’s wearing a suit. Black, tailored to perfection, but not feminine. The top two buttons of her stark white shirt are undone and her tie hangs loose around her neck.

You watch her laugh at something Natasha says, as she surveys the room absently, completely ignoring all the people clamouring for her attention. Then her gaze lands on you and she’s smiling even wider, lifting her glass and winking at you from the bar.

You manage a little wave back to her as your heart races and Bucky starts to laugh next to you. Carol leans down to say something in Nat’s ear that has her smirking and then she’s walking toward you and your heart stops entirely.

“Oh my God, Bucky, she’s coming over here. Go away,” you hiss.

“What—why?”

“Because I’m either about to embarrass myself or get seduced and I don’t want you to here for either. Go rescue your boyfriend.”

Bucky scoffs but does as you ask, snatching another glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and heading toward Steve.

You have just enough time to swig back the last of your own glass and set it on a table before Carol’s standing in front of you, looking even better up close.

“Hey.” She greets you with a smile.

“Hi.”

“Love the dress,” she says, eyes sweeping down your body. She pinches a fold of your skirt between her finger and thumb, tugs at it lightly. “This colour looks great on you.”

“Oh, um, thank you. You look great too. Very James Bond,” you note and Carol grins. “How are you enjoying your first Avengers party?”

She rolls her eyes. “If one more man tries to tell me about his very cool job managing hedge funds I’m gonna blow a hole in the ceiling and fly out of here.”

“That is, unfortunately, one of the hallmarks of these things. The finance guys, not the ceiling holes,” you clarify. “Though actually, that’s not unheard of either.”

She laughs, about to say something else when her eyes drift over your shoulder. “The vultures are circling again,” she whispers. You turn your head to see a handful of men in expensive suits lingering a few feet away, obviously waiting for an opportunity to introduce themselves to Carol. “You wanna get out of here?” she asks. “Maybe go somewhere a little quieter?”

For a second your brain is frozen solid. You’ve never actually heard that phrase outside of movies and TV, and in movies and TV it usually only means one thing. But this is Carol Danvers and real life and you have no idea if she wants to fuck you or if she really does want to continue your conversation somewhere she’s not at risk of being interrupted by Elon Musk or a random politician.

“My office is just upstairs?” you offer once your brain thaws. There’s a part of you that wants to say, “Or how about we go to your room?” But that’s about ten times more suggestive than you’re comfortable being. Plus, the residences are on the other side of the compound so it’s also not that practical.

“Sounds great,” Carol says with a grin, and then she’s leading you out of the ballroom, a strong hand pressed to the small of your back.

+++

Carol leans against the wall while you fumble with your key card, hands in her pockets and looking so fucking good you want to fall to your knees and beg her to fuck your face right there in the hallway.

Neither of you said much during the short walk to your office but there was an almost palpable tension that has you keyed up and leaking into your panties even though Carol hasn’t so much as touched you beyond a guiding hand on your back.

In the next sixty seconds, as your pass your key card over the pad on the wall and reach down to open the door, it becomes very clear Carol meant “somewhere quieter” exactly the way they do in the movies.

As soon as the door is open she’s pushing you through, kicking it shut with her heel as she pushes you against the wall, hands pressing firm on your shoulders. You gasp when your back hits the wall.

She leans in and your eyes slip shut, waiting for her lips on yours, desperate to finally know how she tastes. But the kiss doesn’t come. She stops with her lips just inches from yours—you can feel the warmth of her breath against your face—and waits. You open your eyes and find her smirking, watching you burn for her and you nearly whimper, another rush of wetness flooding your underwear.

“Please,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself. You’ve wanted this for so long you think you might cry if she doesn’t at least kiss you.

“Please what?” she asks, voice calm and low like she isn’t standing between your spread legs. Like she isn’t affected at all.

“Kiss me. Please.” You can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed by how easy you are for her.

“Good girl,” she says softly and finally closes the distance between you. Her first kiss is sweet—a gentle press of lips, a soft hello—but it quickly turns deep and devouring. She licks along the seam of your mouth then sweeps her tongue inside until you’re gasping for air.

Jesus, it’s even better than you could have ever imagined. You don’t think you’ve ever been kissed like this, so thorough and greedy. Carol tastes like chapstick and rum and you’re drunk on her in moments.

One of her hands rests on your waist, while the other grips the back of your neck, holding you in place for her. She sets the pace, giving you time to breathe with teasing kisses along your jaw and neck before pressing her lips to yours, again and again.

She nudges her thigh between yours, pushing up against your cunt through layers of fabric and you grind down against her, moaning into her mouth at the pressure on your throbbing clit. Carol’s hands start to work at the hem of your dress, rucking it up your legs in fistfuls until she’s stopped by the barrier of her own body. She shifts her leg back, chuckling as you whine at the loss, and tugs your dress up so you’re exposed from the waist down.

She takes a moment to look at you, trailing her eyes from ankle to bellybutton and back, stopping at the space between your legs.

“Hold this,” she says, passing you a handful of your dress, and freeing up her own hand. She taps two fingers on your panties, just over your clit, and even that is enough to have you gasping. “Cute,” she comments, and then she’s sliding under the waistband and her fingers are on your bare skin.

She wastes no time, pressing her fingers between your folds. She quirks an eyebrow at the sopping mess of you, almost shamefully wet for so little contact. “I told you,” you stutter through shallow breaths, “you look good in a suit.”

Carol grins, dipping two fingers into your pussy. You roll your hips to try and coax them inside you. “I must look really good if you’re this easy already,” she teases.

She drags slick up to your clit, circling it as she kisses your neck, sucking occasionally then dragging her teeth over the tender flesh. It doesn’t take long before you’re coming, cunt pulsing as you moan her name. Before you can catch your breath she’s pulling you away from the wall, gripping you by the shoulders and turning you around. She marches you the handful of steps to your desk, leaning in until her lips are next to your ear. “Hands on the desk,” she orders.

You eagerly comply, resting the heels of your palms on the sharp edge of your desk. Carol unzips your dress, then pushes the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, pulling them over your hands one at time. The dress falls to your feet, followed by your panties, and suddenly you’re completely naked even as Carol stands fully clothed behind you.

She takes your hands in hers, gripping your wrists, and moves them to the other side of the desk, before pressing a palm to the small of your back with just the slightest hint of her power. She bends you over until your breasts press against the cool surface and your back is forced to arch, ass tilted on display for her.

Her hands stroke down the skin of your back and you shiver.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll warm you up,” she says, even though your trembling has nothing to do with the temperature of the room and you think she knows that.

She nudges her foot against one of yours and you widen your stance, spreading your legs wide. Her hand follows the curve of your ass to where you’re still wet and dripping for her, fingertips teasing at your opening.

It hits you suddenly that anyone could walk by and catch you in here. They’d take one look through the glass walls of your office and know. You didn’t even think to flip the switch to opaque the walls and now it’s too late; the panel is next to the door and you wouldn’t move now if flames were licking at your heels. Anyone passing by would see your dress on the floor, see your legs stretched wide around Carol’s figure and they’d know.

To your surprise, the idea of getting caught only adds to your excitement. You don’t have time to ponder your newly discovered kink because two of Carol’s fingers press into your pussy and immediately start thrusting fast and hard, working you back up so quickly your head spins.

The room is soon filled with the sound of her fingers moving inside you and the wet slap of her palm hitting your ass as she fucks you. Your whimpers and moans rise to join the chorus.

Carol presses close to your body, her front against your back, and the coarse fabric of her suit on your overheated skin adds to the fire building inside you. The vulnerability of being completely bare while she’s fully clothed and holding all the power has you melting against the desk, boneless and soft, there to take whatever she gives you.

Her lips press against your cheek in chaste kisses and she licks into your open mouth but you can’t keep up, so overwhelmed with the pleasure of her fingers inside you. She’s up to three now, filling and stretching you, fucking you faster than any normal human could.

She stands up straight again and brings her other hand around your hip to stroke at your clit, matching the speed of her thrusting fingers. You’re coming in seconds, even harder than before, clamping down on her fingers in vice-grip pulses as your hips stutter and jerk.

Carol brings you down gently this time, letting you hold her fingers inside as her other hand circles your clit slowly, giving you every aftershock of pleasure she can. She bends over you again, pressing gentle kisses to the sweat-slick skin of your neck and shoulders as you come down, only sliding her fingers from you when the last pulses are gone.

You manage to turn over, leaning back against the desk on boneless legs, just in time to see Carol licking at her fingers with a pleased-sounding hum. She winks at the hitch in your breath. “That was amazing, baby. Thank you,” she says.

You gape at her. “Thank me? Thank you. I’ll never be able to work here again,” you muse, breathless and hazy. “I’m only going to be thinking about that.”

She laughs and leans in for a kiss, trading the hint of your taste on her tongue.

“Can I go down on you? Please,” you blurt when she pulls away.

Her eyes widen slightly, like maybe she wasn’t expecting you to return the favour, but her lips curl in a teasing smile. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” She trades places with you so you’re standing in front of her as she leans against the desk. “On your knees,” she commands, and you follow, sinking to the floor on top of your discarded dress.

She undresses, but only as much as she has to, slouching off her jacket and leaving her shirt and tie. She undoes her belt buckle with deliberate slowness, then the button and fly of her pants. Finally, she toes off her shoes and removes her pants with surprising grace, and of course, she isn’t wearing underwear so you’re inches away from dark blond curls and pink folds. Your mouth waters with anticipation. You glance up for permission and Carol nods, spreading her legs. “Go ahead.”

God, you want this to be good for her. You settle in, resting your hands on the hard muscle of her thighs, feeling the soft hairs there against your palms. You spread her open with your tongue and take a few exploratory licks, getting her taste in your mouth, earthy and sharp, before you focus on her clit.

As expected, Carol takes charge of this too. She grinds against your lips, fists her hands in your hair to guide you, and keeps up a steady stream of praise. All, good girl; right there; doing so well for me, baby.

Other than the words spilling from her lips she’s quiet mostly, heavy breathing and the occasional gasp, but you know you must be doing something right because there’s no shortage of slick wetness seeping from her cunt to coat your tongue. You feel a distinct rush of pride whenever you manage to make her moan.

You pull out every trick you’ve got as you work, needing to make this good; you can’t bear the thought that this might be the only time you get to do this.

You lap at her clit in long, firm strokes, not sure how she feels about penetration and unwilling to take your lips away from her clit to ask. You keep your focus there, encouraged by the way her hips buck and her breaths get shorter and sharper like they’re being forced from her lungs in time with your tongue.

“Right there,” Carol gasps. “Don’t stop—fuck.” Your jaw aches but you hold steady, flicking over her clit as quickly as your tongue allows as her thighs tense and her breathing stops entirely. Then, with a long, low moan, all the tension leaves her at once as she comes, hips stuttering against your face. You slow down but keep up the motion until she twitches away.

Licking your lips, you sit back on your heels, face turned up to look at her. Her hair is messy, her cheeks and lips flushed deep pink, and her brown eyes seem even darker. She’s undone even more buttons on her shirt at some point and it gapes open, revealing a plain white bralette and an appealing strip of pale skin.

She smiles warmly down at you. “You look good on your knees,” she says, and your face burns as she studies you. Her eyes flit from your face, where you feel your mouth and chin still soaked with her slick, down your naked body, to your hands clasped in your lap. She reaches down, swipes a thumb across the mess on your face and presses it between your lips. Automatically you suck, pulling the taste of her into your mouth again until she takes her hand back.

There’s a moment or two of silence, and as you become aware of the soreness in your jaw and knees, and the fact that you’re kneeling naked on your office floor, you can’t help but start laughing, giggling uncontrollably as you flop down to sit on the floor completely. Carol laughs too, though less hysterically and seemingly in reaction to you more than any humour she finds in the situation.

“Oh my God,” you gasp through peals of laughter. “We just had sex. In my office. Where I work. This is not at all how I imagined this would go.”

Carol’s eyebrows raise at your accidental admission. “How exactly did you imagine it?” she asks. “And how often?” she adds, quirking her brows playfully.

You cover your face with your hands and groan as heat rushes to your cheeks yet again. Luckily, Carol rescues you from your embarrassment, effortlessly pulling you up from the floor for a kiss before pulling back to look you in the eyes. “Wanna get a pizza or something? I’m starving.”

+++

Thirty minutes later you’re sitting in a booth at the only pizza place in town, the two of you the only diners in the restaurant. Carol’s telling you a story about a brawl she got into at a bar on some planet called Argor while you both devour greasy slices of cheap pizza. Her feet nudge against yours occasionally under the table and she touches you casually as she talks.

You’re surprised at how comfortable it is between you. Even as you got dressed, handing each other articles of clothing you picked up off the floor and walking to the garage for your car. Carol’s easy charm and confidence keep the conversation running smoothly, and something about her demeanour must rub off on you because you don’t feel awkward at all.

You revel in the way she can be so dominant and poised but such a snarky dork at the same time, and you find her wide, genuine smiles just as charming as those cheeky little smirks.

As you’re nearing the end of your meal, with no mention of going out or even hooking up again, you decide you have to ask. You’re stupid enough (and infatuated enough) to agree to whatever arrangement Carol is looking for here, even though you know casual sex will only end in heartbreak for you, but you have to at least know, at the risk of spoiling the entire evening.

“So,” you start, gathering your courage. “Was this just—I mean, are you only looking for something casual right now, or?” you trail off.

Carol blinks at you over her coke. “Are you asking if I’m only interested in sex?”

You nod.

“Um, no,” she admits, shrugging. “The plan was actually to ask you out tonight. I was gonna show up, flirt with you a little—did you know you’re very cute when you’re flustered?” she teases, tapping your shin with her foot before continuing. “Then I was going to ask you out. But then you were wearing that dress and I got kinda carried away, I guess.”

“Oh. Wow.” Somehow, even after having her interest in you very must confirmed (at least physically) you still weren’t expecting that.

She nods. “Yep. I mean, I’ll be honest, I definitely would have tried to fuck you on the first date” she says, grinning at you over her drink, “but I did plan on there being a first date. Not that I have much experience with those on Earth, in this century.” She pauses, considering. “Is karaoke still cool?”

“Was karaoke ever cool?”

Carol’s lips twitch but she holds back her smile, quirking an eyebrow at you. “You should watch that attitude, baby, or I might have to punish you,” she says, pitching her voice low and smirking when your breath catches.

If you thought having a conclusive answer to the question, “Is Carol Danvers into me?” would keep her from dominating your thoughts, you were dead wrong. You’re pretty sure you’re going to be thinking about her even more now.

Bucky is going to be unbearably smug about it.

+++

A/N: Do I have a whole backstory of how Reader and Bucky became friends even though it has no relevance to this fic? Yes, yes I do.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed 😊 (Also, if you notice any typos or grammar mistakes, feel free to let me know!) Text divider courtesy of writeyourmindaway!

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel #carol danvers #femslash february