#ask metal organic au

[artkotaro]

Silver Sonic looks like he'd bounce if he was dropped, he's so round

[Ask (85)]

Basically this is the relationship with these two...in the future they will know why.

#metal organic au #sonic au #organic metal sonic #ask metal organic au #silver sonic prototype

[metal-organic-au]

hey can you kill me?

[Ask (88)]

#metal organic au #sonic au #metal sonic #organic metal sonic #mecha sonic #organic mecha sonic #ask metal organic au

[9474s0ul]

Why is your Metal Sonic a Stand User?

Because he’s a Stardust Crusader.

#bye- #sonic au #metal sonic #organic metal sonic #asks #whoopie #sth #sonic

[viliantropy-art]

Little Mermaid AU with no mermaids (2/4)

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3

#sth #myart #amy rose #metal sonic #metamy #doctor starline #starline the platypus #surge the tenrec #kit the fennec #sonic the hedgehog #organic metal sonic #sth fanart #amy rose fanart #metal sonic fanart #sonic fanart #sth fancomic #sth comic #Do not ask me how she keeps the glasses on her face it just does #Starline's the witch fr fr #I cannot for the life of me get consistent body proportions #conclusion: they are baby #sth au #sth little mermaid au #little Mermaid au

[lm-tomatito]

show your adoring fans the granny tikal we need her

Can't believe this is the first thing I'm posting about my witch/ghost au, she's not even a main character in the story 😭 So Metal/possessed Sonic is in the background now

#answering asks #sonic the hedgehog #sonic au #tikal the echidna #granny tikal #organic metal sonic #I guess??? Kind of??? because that is metal

[notiddygxthgf]

2/2

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: Yuuji Itadori truly was the best friend a girl like you could ask for, but he wasn't the only reason you came to visit. (His older brother, the devilishly handsome Choso Kamo, had always been the apple of your eye).

★ c.w.: slow burn, friends to lovers, eventual smut, childhood sweethearts, kinda, mutual pining, choso with a tongue piercing, rough sex, cunnilingus, backshots, unprotected sex, regular people au, two year age gap, PWP.

★ a/n: part two! its all smut lol. anyway, like I said, this one shot is finished (just split btw two chaps bc theres 11k words). but if u comment and persuade me who knows! I can always do another. im a whore for ur validation.

★ w.c.; 5k

best friend's brother ; chapter index

YUUJI COOCHIE <3

|  come over tn?

|  i got smth i wanna run by u first

YOU

|  omw.

You stood on Itadori’s porch, finger poised over the doorbell a month after your eighteenth birthday. You had been anticipating to see your best friend, Itadori. But as the door swings open, what you don’t expect is to come face to face with Itadori’s older brother.

Your heart drops, and your breath catches in your throat as you take in his appearance. It felt for a moment as if time had stood still since you last saw him. He had only grown more handsome during your time apart. His dark hair was done back into two messy buns, deep bags residing beneath his deep eyes. 

Choso looked absolutely breathtaking . His fitted black tee clung to his chest and arms, showing off his toned physique, while the baggy black sweats he was sporting gave him an effortlessly cool appearance.

His presence exudes a magnetic charm that takes you back to when you were 17. His half smirk sends a wonton shiver down your spine.

“Hey there,” He says, deep, rich voice sending ripples of familiarity throughout your body.

When his lips pull away from his teeth, forming syllables and words, you couldn’t help but notice a small glint of metal near the tip of his tongue. You realized immediately what had seemed so different about him, and your eyes widened in surprise.

“You pierced your tongue?” You blurt out, unable to hide your shock.

Choso nearly snorts, though his eyes never leave yours. “You’re not surprised to see me?” He teases.

“I am,” You retort quickly, trying to regain your composure. “You’re home for the holidays?”

He nods, gaze still fixed on your red face. “Just came home last night.”

That would explain why I didn’t see you, you thought.

“I’m glad you came, though, I’ve been holding onto your birthday gift for a while now,” He sighed, stepping aside to let you into the house but keeping his arm braced on the doorframe. 

You slide under his muscular arm, doing your best to ignore the way your body bristled with electricity when you brushed up against him.

You set your bag on the ground near the door, kicking off your shoes and neatly pushing them aside while Choso locked the door behind you. 

“It’s in my room,” he said, passing you.

You followed him nervously up the stairs into his bedroom, heart pounding a little louder with every step. This would be the first time you would find yourself alone in Choso’s room, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

As you enter his bedroom, you drank in your surroundings – a rare sight. The room was a reflection of Choso’s personality; band tees all over the walls, sheets laid flat and clean, laundry sitting in a basket in a neat, folded pile – a subtle hint of organized chaos.

It felt both familiar and new at the same time. The air was thick with anticipation, and memories of your whirlwind summer fling with Choso came flooding back.

You brace your hands on the door. “Is Itadori home?” You ask him, hands tracing the doorframe while Choso rummaged through his drawer. You sat on his bed.

“Nah,” he replied casually.

Furrowing your brows, you tried to make sense of the situation. But told me to come over…

“Is he coming?” You tried again, voice tinged with uncertainty.

Choso rose up from the bedside drawer, extending a small box towards you with a slight grin. “Nope,” he said.

The realization hit you like a freight train. This was a fucking setup, and Itadori was the mastermind behind it all.

He wanted you alone with his brother. He knew about your fling with him. 

He didn’t notice when the two of you had disappeared to the pantry for ten minutes. 

Though the moment you returned to see him glancing at you with a curious brow raised, you knew he had finally caught on. Even if he didn’t say anything about it.

He knew.

He had set you up.

Your face was on fire. Still, you took the small box from Choso, an awkward smile on your face, and carefully undid the little bow. As you opened it, you revealed its contents – a tee shirt with Choso’s University crest on it, a glace pendant on a fabric necklace, and a box set of your favorite film saga.

Choso had never given you a gift for your birthday before, at least not anything beyond a card. Briefly, you wondered if it was his way of making up for your 18th birthday party, the one he had missed.

“Choso…” You began, a humorous grin on your lips. “Merch?”

He shrugged playfully, his gaze locked onto yours. “In case you miss me,” he replied, tone teasing yet sincere.

With a genuine smile, you leaned over and hugged him. “I love it,” you had told him.

Choso reached into the box for the necklace, gesturing for you to come closer. You leaned in, allowing him to loop the fabric over your head. His fingers brushed against your skin, your neck as he adjusted it.

He froze. You froze.

For a while, the room was quiet. There was an intense stare-off between you two. Choso cleared his throat, seemingly about to break the moment, but you had other plans. Gently, you gripped his chin between your index finger and your thumb, turning his head back to you. 

Gently, you tugged his lower lip down. He stuck his tongue out to wet the corner of his lips in return.

Your breath hitched as your gazes locked, and the air in the room shifted. Choso’s dark eyes shifted beneath your gaze, and you found yourself drawn closer to him.

You swallowed. “How bad did it hurt?” You asked, eyes fixed on the sliver of metal you had caught a glimpse of inside of his mouth.

Choso raised a finger towards his mouth, bringing your attention back to his tongue. “This?” He asked. “Hurt like a bitch, not gonna lie, but it healed up real nice.”

Wordlessly, he stuck his tongue out so you could see it up close. You examined it carefully – it really had healed up rather nicely. There was a small, silver ball wedged into the pink muscle. You wondered how it would feel on your lips, your neck, your body .

Choso closed his mouth. “I got it the first weekend after move-in day,” He explained.

“Why?” You inquired, curiosity finally getting the better of you.

He shrugged with a smirk, “Thought it would look hot. What do you think?”

“I think it looks like a pain in the ass,” You retorted. “Don’t any of the girls you kiss complain about that thing?”

“Quite the contrary,” he remarked, licking his lips. “Why’d you ask?”

You tried to ignore the jealousy that bubbled up inside of you, deep inside of you at the thought of him kissing other girls. You had to remind yourself who you were talking to here. You would have been naive to expect loyalty from a college freshman.

“Looks cold,” you commented instead. “I don’t imagine that would feel very good.”

And his eyes, those dark, beautiful cesspools of emotion, dropped down to your lips, lingering for a moment too long before returning to meet your gaze. “You wanna find out?” He asked.

“Piss off,” You scoffed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder. But the blush on your cheeks betrayed the effect his words had on you. “Fuckin’ tease.”

He didn’t move back. No, instead, he leaned in a little closer. “You sure?” He whispered, warm breath grazing the shell of your ear. “I can show you how good it feels, if you want.”

And that’s how you wound up here, with his face buried between your legs. He kissed his way up and down the skin of your thighs. You made quick work of his twin buns, tugging the ties out of his hair.

His lips curled into a knowing smirk. He lifted one of your legs onto his broad shoulder, running his tongue along the length of your inner thigh, pressing a kiss right where your ass met your legs. The metal ball on his tongue felt odd against your skin, but not necessarily unpleasurable.

You had never gone this far with him before. You were turned on beyond comprehension, hungry eyes drinking in the rosey hue that dusted his pale complexion while he sucked on your skin – hard enough for it to hurt, hard enough to leave a mark. 

Tenderly, Choso reached for your panties. He appeared to be on the precipice of a decision. 

“Can I…” He panted, trailing his thumb over the thin piece of fabric that separated the two of you. “Can I take these off?”

You nodded quickly, lifting your hips up for him while he guided the panties off of your legs. 

He licked his lips and parted your legs a second time, fully exposing you to his ravenous gaze. 

“You look like heaven,” He breathed out, voice trembling. He took a moment to admire you, smiling at the way you tried to hide your face. “Wanna taste…”

You had never done this before. The one man you had ever dared to hook up with hadn’t bothered. So you swallowed the lump in your throat, watching him get down on all fours and dip his head down between your legs like a man with his head bowed in worship. 

Though you were far from holy, in that moment, you felt like you were God.

His tongue was hot and wet against your skin, licking a stripe from bottom to top. The metal ball of his tongue piercing caught on your puffy clit, eliciting a quiet gasp. 

“Feel good, baby?” He teased, relishing in the way your thighs tensed around his head. His eyes flitted between you and your pussy – spread open for him like a buffet – pupils blown wide with desire. His pink lips parted around his tongue a second time, and this time you watched him.

Watched him press the metal ball against your clit, rolling over it in slow, steady circles.

You felt like you could die here. 

He adjusted his grip on your hips, pulling you down on the bed until you felt his nose pressing in between your folds. He kissed your heat, moaning into you.  Then, without so much as a warning, he began to eat you out like a starved man.

“Fuck, Cho–” You cried out for him, reaching down to tangle your fingers into his inky black tresses. You had never felt so good in your life, like he had been waiting for this as long as you had. You were sensitive, far too sensitive to comprehend the way your body felt, the way his tongue piercing felt as it glided over your hot flesh.

He didn’t slow down. He licked, slurped, and kissed your swollen clit, keeping that unforgiving pace up until your hips began to jump against his tongue.

“Shit,” You hissed,

He moaned into you in response, meeting your gaze with an intense fire burning behind his eyes. His tongue massaged you up to what you know would be the hardest orgasm of your life – that damn piece of metal made for one hell of a stimulant. It felt like it was pressing right up into your pressure points, deeper than his tongue was able to reach.

You felt yourself come apart at the seams, reduced to a moaning mess in a matter of minutes, riding his tongue like your life depended on it. He stopped moving for a moment, letting you grip him by the hair and ride his face. 

You couldn’t look away.

He looked amazing, fire burning behind his eyes, fingertips biting into the skin of your thighs, brows furrowed with concentration. His eyes never left yours, not even once.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, sitting back and allowing him to resume what he had been doing earlier – that thing with his tongue. 

And resume it he did, assuming a more demanding pace this time. It almost made you want to cry – the pace, the ball on his tongue – it was almost too much to bear. It felt so good.

You felt that familiar coil in your abdomen, almost like you were about to cum, then in a moment’s width he had pulled away. 

You struggled to regain your surroundings, vision cloudy and hazy with pleasure. You could hear your rampant heartbeat racing in your own ears. 

Choso leaned back with a stretch, cracking his neck and licking his lips. The entirebottom half of his face was drenched, dripping with an obscene mixture of your slick and his spit. 

He looked gorgeous, even when his face was tinted red. 

“Choso…” You breathed, letting a breathless chuckle slip between your parted lips.

He grinned back at you. “Any complaints?”

You didn’t glorify him with a response, gripping him by the fabric of his shirt and tugging him up and over you. You searched for his lips, locking them between yours in a messy, heated kiss. The taste of you lingered on his tongue, tangy and a little sweet.

“Shut up and fuck me, Kamo,” You panted with a grin of your own.

That was all he needed to push you onto your back, diving back in to ravage your lips again. It was all a rushed, passionate haze – he tugged your tee shirt over your head, you shoved your skirt down to your ankles and kicked it off the side of the bed. He leaned back with a stretch to reach for the back of his shirt, tugging it over his head and flinging it to the side. 

Your mouth nearly watered for him. He was everything you had dreamed of and so much more. Well defined arms, pecs, abs – a few tattoos littered the broad expanse of his chest. His torso tapered down into a thin, slutty waist. You let your hand slide down his abdomen, eliciting a quiet groan from him as your painted fingernails caught on his toned abs, ghosted over the large tent in his sweats that left nothing to the imagination. 

He was big. Bigger than you had anticipated. The last man you were with was about 3 inches (which was probably for the better, because it had been your first time). He felt about three times as big as that. Maybe more.

It didn’t take long for him to flip you onto your stomach, pulling your ass flush against his navel. He reached for a handful of your hair, jerking your head to the side, then uttered against your ear, “G’nna fuck that attitude right out’ta you.”

He left you for a moment while he undid the strings of his sweatpants. You couldn’t watch. You knew if you saw it, you would have doubts. 

But you found yourself looking back anyway, right as he had told you. “Wanna reach into that drawer and grab me a condom?”

“Are you um…” You swallowed. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”

You knew you were clean because you were so disgusted by the man you had hooked up with before Choso that you’d taken yourself to the planned parenthood in town the day after to be tested. Even if you had used a condom.

Choso’s brow quirked up at that. “No, I don’t have any STDs. I get tested twice a year.”

Oh. Okay.

Again, you didn’t want to think about how many women had taken his dick before you. 

“Never gone raw before, though,” He mused quietly, hand rubbing mindless circles over the skin of your ass. 

“Really?” You asked.

“Is that a surprise?” He retorted, though he didn’t seem very hurt by your comment. “Can’t babytrap me.”

You thought about definitely didn’t think about Choso being a father. 

“Is there any way for you to, like…” You hummed, trailing off. Your inexperience had never been more disgustingly apparent. “Pull out?”

“You’re talking like this is your first time,” he laughed breathily.

You paused. His eyes widened.

“Is… this your first time?” He asked again.

“I had sex with this one guy from my class a while ago,” You said after an awkward silence. “He was small and, like, really bad at it.”

Choso seemed humored by your honest admission, though it came at the expense of your own embarrassment. “Why’d you go through with it, then?”

“I only did it to get back at you,” You turned your head back to the pillowcase below you. With a pout, you admitted, “Thought for some reason that by me having sex, I was proving something. I was younger and stupider, okay?”

“So… you’ve only had sex once?” He asked. You didn’t realize this was an interrogation. 

You nodded embarrasedly. Somehow this was more humiliating than being spread open for him like you were right now.

“You sure you want this?” He hummed, roaching forward to tuck your hair behind your ear. It was strangely intimate. When you nodded, he sighed. “We’ll go slow, then. I don’t wanna hurt you–”

“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile,” You cut him off, finally turning back to look at him. “I can take it, okay? Just answer the damn question.”

Choso leaned down over you, pinning you into the bed, kissing down your spine. “We can… do backshots,” he murmured against your skin. “Want that?”

“Mhm,” You sighed, easing into his touch.

You had waited far too long for this for something like a condom to get in between the two of you. You wanted to feel him. All of him. 

Choso rolled back, slipping his tip between your fold and swiping it through your slick. You watched him, watched the way he bit his lip at the sensation, eyes glued onto the place where you met him . 

He pursed his lips, letting spit fall from his lips. You watched it dribble down, landing right onto your twitching hole. 

That was so fucking hot .

Then, without a word of warning, he pushed the tip in. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, feeling the burn, the stretch of his girth inside of you. He paused for a moment when the tip was the only thing inside of you, brows drawn together, breaths shallow.

It took everything you had not to cry out in pain. You had been waiting your whole life for this.

But, shit, it hurt. He was big. You felt your body struggle to accommodate him.

Maybe some prep should have been in order…

Oh well, gotta see it through.

As if sensing your internal dilemma, Choso reached down, intertwining his fingers with yours. He placed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. 

“You okay?” He asked you.

No . Yes.

“Yeah,” You bit out. “Just… I ‘jus need a minute.”

“Just tell me when,” he pressed another kiss to your hot skin. “You’re doing so good.”

It took you a few more minutes to adjust to him. Every minute, he would slip in a little further, just enough to make your skin hot and flushed. You could feel him throbbing inside of you, throbbing against your spongy walls.

Eventually, you gave him the green light. And, fuck, it was like something inside of him had snapped. He slid the rest of the way in until his hips were flush with your ass. He drew out, slowly, then thrust back in again.

It felt like he was pulling you apart over and over again, snapping his hips against yours in a progressively harder fashion. 

Choso whimpered quitedly, pausing his harsh movements to change pace. You clenched around him in response, something that made him double over. “Ah, fuck,” He gasped. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

He drew back, thrusting into you once more. You felt your whole body jolt forward with a loud moan of your own.

With wild, passionate eyes, Choso pulled out again, leaving just enough room for the tip. Then, he slammed back into you. Again, again, again – he was relishing in the way you cried into the pillow.

“Fuck, fuck,” You chanted, like some sort of sinful prayer. “ Fuck me, Cho– ”

“Might not last long if you keep callin’ my name like that,” He gasped, tangling a large hand into your messy tresses and gripping it tightly. 

You drew your brows together, allowing yourself to be lost in the pleasure, the attention he was giving you. What would Itadori think, you wondered, if he walked in on you like this – face down ass up in his big brother’s bed?

“Choso ,” You groaned into the pillow. It felt like he was scratching an itch deep inside of you – not your coochie, but your soul. It felt like you were made for this. “ Choso, Fuck. ”

Itadori slipped into his house with a quiet sigh. He kicked his shoes off, set his bag down on the floor, and then reached for his scarf. It had been one long, hellish day. He felt bad making you wait for him, but he didn’t doubt that you would have made yourself right at home in his bedroom by now. You were probably sprawled out over his bed, passed out or playing with his PS5.

He froze when he heard something come from upstairs. It sounded like furniture being moved around, or something like that. There were voices, too.

With knitted brows, he walked hesitantly towards the stairs. Was it coming from up there?

“Fuck, Choso,” He heard a vaguely familiar – albeit very muffled voice – moan. 

It was you. You and another muffled voice.

“Choso, Choso!” 

“Right there?”

“Fuck– yes! Don’t stop!”

He quirked a brow. Then, with a sigh and a dejected shake of his head, he hid away in the kitchen.

“Please!” You gasped, you fumbled around behind you in search of his hand. He grabbed it, pinning your arm behind your back and thrusting into your sore pussy from a new angle – one that made you feel dizzy. You didn’t know how long the two of you had been going at it. All you knew was that you never wanted it to end, that your mind was a blissful haze.

Your body slid up against the bedsheets – up and down, up and down, clenched fingers leaving wrinkles in their wake. 

“Fuck me harder,” You pled.

And fuck you harder he sure did. His chest rolled against your backside, pinning you into the mattress and holding you right where he wanted you. Then he fucked you a little harder.

You were all but screaming his name at that point. “Choso–” 

The head of his cock was bullying into you, beating against that spot deep within you that made your feet fly up, rubbing the back of his thighs as if to tell him ‘ keep going’.You gripped the sheets with unwarranted strength, feeling yourself drip and clench around him – hearing the obscene squelch you made when the two of you met in the middle. 

“ Fu-u-uck ,” You cried, voice high and weak.

“Quit suckin’ me in like that,” He chuckled, though it was cut short by a deep, guttural groan as you did it again. “ Shit , you want kids or somethin’?”

There was a knot in your stomach. A vaguely familiar warmth that seemed to only grow hotter by the second.

“ So perfect, so wet ,” Choso commended you, licking the shell of your ear, peppering butterfly kisses to the back of your neck. Your name fell out of his pretty lips between a cacophony of sinful noises.

You felt yourself get lost in him, craning your head around to take another look at him. His angelic face, scrunched up with pleasure, mouth hanging open just slightly, pale face dusted with pink. Inky black hair plastered to his forehead and neck with sweat. The muscles in his chest and torso rippled.

“I’ve wanted you…” You gasped, trying your best to articulate despite the stimulation he was giving you – it was almost too much. “Since I was young – fuck .”

His hips stuttered. He pulled your hair away from your neck, kissing the junction where your jaw met your neck. 

He gripped your hair to crane your head back, slowing his thrusts to long, deep strokes that had you trembling. 

“The feeling was mutual,” Choso grunted, trying to keep himself together.

You felt your eyes roll almost all the way back into your fucking head, mouth hanging open, drooling shamelessly on his pillow, his sheets.

You were close. So close.

Those deep, lust-filled eyes of him weren’t doing anything to slow the train that was coming. Each thrust, each slide of his cockhead against your g-spot brought you closer and closer to the edge.

“You feel even better than I imagined,” He growled, and you nearly came right then and there. 

He moved his hands so that your hips were up in the air for him, bringing his other arm around your neck to pin you there. When he picked up pace this time, you felt yourself drip – like, actually drip – all over him.

I wanna have his kids .

Your moans and pleas matched the pace of his sloppy thrusts. He was getting close, too. You could hear it. No, seriously, noises like that should have been criminal.

The feeling of being filled by him was driving you up the wall – almost as hard as he was currently driving you into the mattress. You never wanted it to end. 

But, shit, it was about to.

“Choso,” You whimpered. He didn’t slow down. “Think ‘m g’nna cum.”

“Yeah?” he gritted out, breath fanning over your neck and your cheek. He reached a hand down, releasing your neck to rub slow circles on your puffy clit – a speed that felt foreign compared to the harsh strokes he was giving you, but not entirely unwelcome.

That was all it took to have you hurling towards the edge, ass jumping up and down to meet his thrust in the middle, to take as much of him in as you possibly could.

“Yeah, shit,” He gasped. He was trying to hold on for you, but you were making it realhard. “G’nna cum for me, baby? Lemme fuckin’ hear it.”

You were all but throwing it back on him, mindlessly chasing your release like a bitch in heat. The moment you got the green light, your orgasm snapped. You cried out his name one final time, arching your back all the way into the sheets, spasming wildly around him. The shock tore through you in waves.

Your hips jolted with hypersensitivity while he fucked you through it.

Choso’s hips stuttered. He twitched, like he couldn’t take another minute of this, then he remarked, “That was so fuckin’ hot, holy shit – fuck, wait–”

He slid out of you rapidly, leaving you to gasp at the sudden loss of him. The next thing you know, he was stroking himself to completion. He came with a broken whimper of your name, spurting ropes of warm cum all over your back.

You took a moment to catch your breath. He did the same. A few moments, actually.

The silence that followed was deafening. He groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair. You collapsed into the bed.

He had left the bedside at one point, though only for a moment before he returned with a warm wash rag. He cleaned his love paint off of your spine.

Then, tossing the rag into his hamper, he collapsed next to you.

You chuckled breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him with all of the strength you had left in you (not much). “Shit…” 

“Shit,” he agreed, licking his lips. “You were great.”

“You were better,” You said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk home tonight, though.”

Choso shrugged. He reached down, pulling the covers over the two of you. “Sleep here, then.”

Sleep here.

You recalled many nights of him walking girls to the door. Choso never let girls stay the night.

He wants me to spend the night with hiim.

You laughed, reveling in the irony of it all. Years and years of pining led you here, to this. “What would Itadori think?”

Choso threw an arm over your waist, pulling you closer to his side. “Fuck what Itadori thinks.”

Your world went black a moment later.

Your eyes fluttered open as you lay in the aftermath of a steamy evening with the man of your dreams. Choso, your best friend’s brother. The one you had fucked.

His lips were pressed into the slightest pout. You watched him snore, taking note of how peaceful he looked while he slept, taking note of the way his tousled black hair fell into his pretty face.

With a contented sigh, you reached for a shirt that lay nearby – his shirt. The one he had taken off yesterday. You slipped out from beneath the covers, padding quietly out of Choso’s bedroom. Your feet were quiet against the wooden steps.

As you entered the living room space, you contemplated sneaking into the kitchen in search of some much-needed sustenance. It had to have been later in the afternoon at that point – you assumed that you and Choso had been sleeping for a few hours, at least. Your stomach grumbled in agreement.

Just as you were about to step into the familiar kitchen, however, you froze. There, sitting at the table, munching on a Kit Kat bar like it was no one’s business, was her best friend. 

Itadori.

“Hey…” You said rather awkwardly, heart racing. “You’re… you’re home.”

Itadori quirked a brow, looking you up and down curiously. His eyes noticeably lingered on your neck, right were you had a sneaking suspicion Choso had marked you with his lips and teeth. 

“Hey,” He finally said. “You two finally done up there?”

“You heard that. Of course you did,” You sighed, dropping your stiff arms and plopping into the stool next to him at the kitchen island. You faceplanted into the cold surface, groaning, “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know my brother’s good in bed,” Itadori took another bite. He placed a heart over his chest, feigning an exaggerated cry of, “ Choso– oh, Choso, don’t stop, I’m cu–”

“He told me you weren’t coming home,” You groaned, even louder this time. You were glad that Itadori couldn’t see the nasty shade of red that had painted your features.

“He lied,” Your best friend chuckled, crumpling the wrapper of his Kit Kat bar and tossing it in the trash bin. He stood off, dusting his hands on his pants, reaching for his phone. Then, like nothing had happened, he said,  “I’m ordering Chinese. You want?”

You raised your head at that, taking a slow glance at the room around the two of you. “I could go for some beef and broccoli…”

You loved the bond you had with Yuuji. Unbreakable, truly. Sometimes a little toocomfortable. This was, undoubtedly, one of those times.

Itadori dialed a few numbers into his phone. He paused, raising his brow again, “I think you’ve had enough meat tonight, don’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” You sighed, though you laughed a bit at his joke. 

Images of Choso flashed through your mind. The image of him spitting on the tip before slipping it in. The image of him tangling a fist in your hair, craning your head back to look at him while he pounded you into the mattress.

With a faint smirk of your own, you remarked. “You’re probably right. I should save room for all of the meat I’m gonna be eatin’ tonight after you go to bed.”

“Please shut up,” Itadori sighed, running the palms of his hands over his exasperated face. With a shake of his head, he held the phone up to his ear. “I really don’t want to think about my brother putting his dick in you. Not while dinner is also in the question.”

You shrugged. Your phone buzzed. Turning it over, you read the new message you had received.

CHOSO    just now

Whered u go beautiful

Your phone chimed a second time.

CHOSO    just now

Steamed dumplings n fried rice plz

You turned the screen over with a grin, telling Itadori. “Your brother wants steamed dumplings and fried rice.”

“I’d say fuck my brother, but tonight’s game night and I don’t want you taking that literally,” Itadori sighed. Still, he unmuted himself, telling the woman on the other side of the phone, “Another order of fried rice and dumplings, too, please.”

Yuuji Itadori really was the best friend a girl like you could ask for.

a/n: hi there my little steamed dumplins <33 lmk what u thought!!! I love reading ur comments and dms. again, this is a one shot, but I would totally drop another part if yall would like -- gotta show papa choso some love. comment and lmk what u think pookiesss

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

taglist: @missphanosaur18 ,

wanna join the ' choso kamo ' taglist?| bfb; chapter index

#notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #choso kamo #kamo choso #choso #choso jjk #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #choso x you #chousou #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #yuuji itadori #itadori x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #choso smut #choso fluff #jjk x reader

[sevenrs]

my take on this crossover

au rambles below. please send asks if you have any <3

The Scrapper is a purposed organism of iterator Organizing to Oblivion (design pending). oblivion wants scrap metal for a secret project, but does not have any on themselves to spare. so they sent a purposed organism, the scrapper, to go "borrow" some from their neighbors

the neighbors (8 of them-- based on the existing moons in lethal company) are not so fond of being scrapped. so they devised their own organisms, as well as relying on the wildlife on their structure, to kill the slugcat when spotted

the scrapper has a helmet to protect against atmospheric differences. i know in original rain world this doesn't matter but... does slugcat just have really efficient lungs to be fine above the clouds for so long or is it game logic? likely game logic

regardless, oblivion would like to keep track of the scrapper's activates (like if it is dead), so they provided it a little drone

the drone allows the iterator and slugcat to communicate

#lethal world #<- my au tag #rain world #lethal company #mine.png #not the first. never the first. but this is my cool and awesome interp of this crossover #and they will be my ocs

[pinkanonwrites]

Hands-On Learning (Rodimus Perspective)

Read 'Hands-On Learning' Here!

art by @archie-sunshine

Rodimus/Human Reader, NSFW, First Contact AU, AFAB Reader, GN Pronouns, G/T, Experimental Sex, Fingering, Oral (Receiving)

I was asked many a time for Roddy's perspective in 'Hands-On Learning', so here it is!

NSFW Below The Cut!

“You're real eager, aren't you? Taking off all your little coverings so fast.~”

If Perceptor, or Megatron, or, Primus forbid, Ultra Magnus knew he was doing this, it could easily be a one-way ticket to the brig. Or Rung’s office. Whichever was closer. The first time had been an accident, sure. A misunderstanding. Something that, if it were to get out to the other mechs aboard, Rodimus could easily brush off as a miscommunication between different species. A miscommunication that wouldn't end with him being questioned about particular fetishes or slapped with a warning about ‘interface misconduct.’

But this? Cupping your soft, unarmored body between his massive digits? Teasing and squeezing your plush organic mass while you wriggled in his grip? This is something he could actually get in trouble for. This was something dangerous. 

And Rodimus loved ‘dangerous’.

Your soft skin yielded so easily beneath the press of his servos, each delicate touch bringing these tiny bumps rippling to the surface of your skin, microscopic hairs standing on end as he stroked you. Your thighs fell apart as he trailed a digit up the length of one, revealing your slick, uncovered valve. 

“Cute.” Instead of following your invitation, he instead poked you in the side of your squishy thigh, chuckling as your muscle shifted beneath his digit. There was far more yield than metal mesh usually gave, warmth molding into the crevices of his joints when he squeezed you again. You let out a soft whimpering noise, grabbing for the seam of his wrist and directing him up, up, until one of his digits was pressed flush against your valve. Once it was there you crooned, hips jerking at the faint rumble of his engines coursing through his frame.

“Yes? You like that? Must feel good pressing up on all your soft spots, huh?” His optics flickered between your face and valve, torn between watching the subtle twitches of your expressions trying to hold back your pleasure, and the slick you were now drooling all over his knuckle.

“Yes…” You cooed, along with another string of babble he didn't yet understand. But you kept rocking your hips up against him, huffing and whining with each ex-vent. He gave the slightest roll of his digit, and even that sensation was enough to have you gasping in his servos.

“So cute.” He reaffirmed, letting his other servo stroke and fondle you while you got yourself off on his digit. With his thumb resting on your chassis he could feel the thud, thud, thud of your fuel pump hammering away, seeming to rev up faster and faster the closer you came to overload. Your little pedes scrabbled uselessly against the surface of the table, pushing your hips up harder, more desperately against his digit as you moaned. Rodimus could feel your valve clenching around nothing as your overload hit you, helm lolling back against his palm with a soft thunk. 

“Careful.~” He teased, digit finally slowing to a stop as your moans began to pitch up into overstimulated whimpers. You blinked up at him with unfocused, glassy optics, slick and limp and looking utterly content in his servos.

“Rodimus…”

The heat pooling in his tanks and behind his modesty plate bellowed, a gush of steam venting through his parted dermas as his engine snarled.

“Slag… You’re so slaggin’ cute.” His digits slunk lower, prodding and massaging at the slick opening of your valve. Your soft skin gave way so easily, stretching far beyond what he could have possibly imagined until, with a wet pop and a sharp, staggering gasp from you, the tips of two of his digits were snug in your little valve.

“Rodimus!?” You yelped again, surrounded by a garble of unfamiliar language as you twitched and shivered in his servos. Your own little digits dug into the sensitive crevasses of his paneling, helm tossed back in ecstasy as he prodded further into your impossible warmth. Rodimus could swear that with each minute curve of his digits he could see the soft bulge of your tank from him prodding within, transfluid spilling out and dribbling down the curve of your aft and into his palm. Rodimus found himself transfixed by the milky substance, unable to tear his optics away from your valve as lubricant pooled beneath his glossa.

“Messy too… Don’t worry, sweetspark, I’ll clean you right up…”

The first lap of his glossa across your valve was electrifying. There was a heady, almost metallic tang to your transfluid, like the powder at the bottom of a box of rust sticks. And each time he teased your tiny node your hip struts would jump right off of his palm, practically humping his open intake. But the best of all had to be your noises. They were even more obvious now, hitched little in-vents and primal mewls as you writhed and gasped and shivered in his cupped servos. The urge to disengage the locks of his interface panels prickled at the back of his processor, drowned out and brushed aside by the mere euphoria of your organic taste. The cling and scrape of your tiny servos against his helm chevron was little more than a buzz in the back of his pleasure-fogged thoughts.

You sobbed out his name again, another spurt of organic fluid spilling from your valve and across his glossa as you clenched around his digits. He lapped at your sensitive node just a few more times before finally pulling away.

“That might have just made you more messy though. Hanging in there, bud? Good?”

Slippery with arousal and coolant and oral lubricant fluid, you lifted your servo weakly to offer him an exhausted thumbs up. Rodimus beamed, squishing your soft cheek beneath the prod of his digit tip.

“Ha! Good. Better get you cleaned up before you get all grimy though, huh? I wonder if you'd fit in one of Mags’s mugs…”

#transformers #transformers x reader #transformers imagines #rodimus #rodimus x reader #rodimus imagines #valveplug #sticky #transformers smut #maccadam #my writing

[callsign-relic]

HI RELIC I’M GLAD YOU’RE BACK!!!!

If requests are open, might I suggest a sequel to the first contact Shockwave fic or the ‘Drift and Ratchet find an injured human’ fic?

Alternatively, if you’re feeling it, a sfw tasty AU Rodimus fic in which he finds a human hiding in the walls or wherever, takes them, and keeps it a secret from everyone else?

Thank you Tripleglitch!!! You’re my first request after literal months, and I’m happy to have written this for you :) For this request I’ve decided to make a sequel to the first contact Drift and Ratchet fic, which you can find here!

Warnings: SFW, GN!Human!Reader, First Contact AU

The next few moments passed by like a blur to your weary head. You weren’t sure if your lack of vision was from your pounding headache, or from how the giant white mech held you cupped against his chest. The beat of his heart (or whatever his equivalent to a heart was) thudded against you in a gentle rhythm— it seemed to be the only thing keeping you aware enough from passing out entirely.

The only place you could look was up, and all you were met with was the chin of the titan who held you. Occasionally, he would glance down at you with furrowed brows, cooing at you softly in alien tones, but you tore your head away before you could lock eyes. The white mech was kinder than the red one who held you before, sure, but you still felt a pit in your stomach form each time you looked into his piercing blue eyes.

There’s a sound of shifting metal, and suddenly you’re squinting from the intruding light. No longer are you wrapped in the radiating warmth of Drift’s big servos, but you’re placed down onto a cool, stainless steel rolling desk. You fold your legs underneath you and rub at your arms at the sudden drop in temperature, sucking in air through your teeth with each touch to your bruised skin.

Above you, Drift watches. You try not to look.

“Poor thing must be freezing,” Drift’s dermas pout to the side.

“Really?” Ratchet asks, too busy pressing buttons and configuring settings on a scanning machine to look for himself. “How can you tell?”

“It’s shivering,” the samurai gestures a hand towards you, causing you to flinch back, but the mech hardly notices as he addresses the CMO. “Maybe it’s trying to warm itself up.”

“It would make sense,” Ratchet hums from behind the console. “Some organics, the energon that runs through them— it flows at a temperature warm enough that keeps their whole frames warm. If they’re in cold enough conditions, that natural warmth from inside them isn’t enough to keep them warm.”

Drift lets out a small gasp at that. “Then we should hurry! We don’t want it freezing to death.” The samurai hurries to Ratchet’s side, examining the screen the medic was working on. Ratchet lifts his arms at Drift’s sudden intrusion, staring at him bewilderedly— but Drift’s too focused on the console to notice. “Is the scanner ready yet??”

“It would be if you didn’t butt in the way—“ The medic shoves his white plated partner to the side— not very roughly, but still enough to get him out of the way. With a last few swipes to the screen, the scanning machine hums to life. You jump back at the sudden noise, scrambling as far back as you can from the alien mechanism.

Drift notices, moving away from behind the scanner to reach a servo out behind you— prepared to catch you if you happened to make a fall off of the rolling table. But thankfully, you stop just a few relative feet away from the edge. Still, you don’t budge.

“Come on, little one, it’s alright,” Drift urges sweetly, slowly bringing one of his hands up from behind you to push you forwards. You gasp at the sudden contact, a scream tearing through your throat as you push back against the massive hand. You may have been injured, sure, but there was no way you were going to let two gigantic aliens push you into a machine that you had no idea of it what it could do. For all you knew, you were being ferried into your death.

“What’s the matter?” Ratchet asks, peeking his helm out from behind the screen. “Just get it in there, already.”

“I’m trying,” Drift insists, “but it’s fighting back. It doesn’t want to go inside.”

“What does it matter how it’s reacting? Just get it in and it’ll see for itself that it’s fine.”

“Ratchet, we’re trying to gain its trust! Forcing it to do something it doesn’t want to do, safe or not, isn’t the way to do that.”

As the two titans debated above you, the samurai’s white servo inched you ever closer into the machine. You try pushing back, but all of your weight combined isn’t enough to even budge the force of the mech’s hand. The eerie blue glow of the machine rapidly approaching, you close your eyes as you’re pushed inside, bracing for impact.

“Oh,” Drift realizes, pulling his hand away. “They’re inside.”

Blue light washes over you once, then twice, then a third time. Agonizingly slow, with a low, droning hum— you close your eyes, expecting the worst. Only, after those few swipes of the machine’s light… nothing happens. You dare to crack open an eye, and are only met with the lights of the medbay.

“Well, Ratchet? What does it say?” Drift comes to Ratchet’s side once more, optics scanning the scanner’s screen impatiently.

“Just give it a second, there are countless organic species this thing could be, after all.” Ratchet steps to the side a bit, allowing the samurai more space to stand. Or, more accurately, allowing the medic more room for himself to breathe. After a few moments, awaiting in bated breath, the scanner chirps out a beep. The results had come in.

Ratchet leans in, studying the text as it all pours in. “‘Species: human’… ‘planet of origin: earth’… hm, and just how far is that from Cybertr— WHAT?!” The medic’s jaw drops as the scanner answers the question for him— thousands upon thousands of lightyears.

“That far…?” Drift repeats Ratchet’s sentiment, he could hardly believe it himself.

“Then how could it ended up on the ship??” Ratchet continues, looking to you, hugging your knees on the steel table. “I doubt we could have picked it up before our initial launch, but on all the planets we’ve visited this far, I don’t recall seeing any humans…”

“How hardly matters anymore, doc,” Drift replies, stepping out from behind the scanner to approach you once more. You look up at the massive white mech, hesitant still. The samurai gazes down at you with soft optics and furrowed brows, but tries to offer you a little smile all the same. “We have to return it home. The poor thing must be terrified, so far away from its home.”

Ratchet grunts, “Well, I suppose that’s one thing we can agree on. But I’m not certain the other two captains want to change trajectory all for a single human.” Raising a servo to his temple as he steps forward too, the red bot huffs out a small sigh. “We’d go way off course, we’d get further behind on our mission than we already are.”

As Ratchet spoke, Drift lowered his hands down— not grabbing you, only offering them down for you to inspect. Your gaze flicks between Drift’s hands and his face, as if you were waiting for him to jump out at you any moment. But he doesn’t. The spectralist simply waits, watching your every move with patience. Maybe he wanted you to climb on of your own accord, this time?

Despite how every instinct in your body told you no, you swallowed it all down and moved forward anyway. You raise one of your feet, placing it down onto the platform of Drift’s hand. Then you did the same with your other foot. All the way until you were centered in the mech’s palm. Above you, Drift smiles, bringing his other hand beside you to give you a wider platform.

“Well, we’ll just have to try,” Drift declares. Slowly, he starts to raise you up towards his chest, to where Ratchet leans in a little to get a better look at you as well. You back away from the red mech— with how roughly he handled you, you still weren’t sure if you could trust him. “I’m a captain on the ship too, you know. I’m certain Rodimus and Megatron would at least be willing to hear me out.”

Ratchet responds with an unsure hum, focusing his optics down on the little creature Drift carried within his servos. Your eyes widen at the sudden attention, and you quickly turn your head, hoping the medic takes the hint and pulls away his burning gaze. “If they say no, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Drift snorts, “C’mon, doc, who do you take me for? Besides,” and his free servo is raising up again, this time extending a single digit to you. You lean away, staring at it cautiously. You weren’t sure what this meant… but if offering your finger meant the same thing as it did on earth, then, you might as well be polite to the alien who was kindest to you. Tentatively, you place your comparatively tiny hands atop the top of the offered digit, shaking it a little. Drift beams. “We’ll take care of it as long as it’s on the ship.”

“Wha— what do you mean, ‘we’?!” Ratchet leans back, incredulous. But when Drift doesn’t reply, his attention solely focused on you in his hand, the medic’s dermas straighten out to a thin line. “Ugh… you’re killin’ me, kid. Fine. We’ll both watch it.”

Finally, Drift turns his helm, ecstatic. “Really?! Oh, thank you, doc!”

“Yeah, yeah, only cause I wouldn’t trust this thing under anyone else’s watch.” As Drift coos at you, excited to be able to keep you safe, Ratchet’s own gaze flits lazily to you. You notice, looking back up at him, and trying not to squirm away. The medic only sighs, offering you a slight, albeit tired, smile.

“Looks like you’re stuck with us for now, little one.”

#relic writes #transformers #transformers x reader #transformers mtmte #mtmte x reader #more than meets the eye #tf x reader #tf mtmte #transformers ratchet #ratchet transformers #ratchet x reader #tf ratchet x reader #transformers drift #drift transformers #drift x reader #tf drift x reader #transformers ratchet x reader #transformers drift x reader #first contact au #transformers first contact au #tf first contact au #maccadam #maccadams

[pixiefeatherkw3]

So... I have this crazy future/fankid/adult characters au(?) and I might as well share it here.

It starts mainly with Metamy, Amy is a baker with tattoos that sometimes goes into Muder She Wrote-type stories with her redeemed cyborg husband as they both learn how to be parents of their accidentally-created cyborg daughter M.I.A. MIA was created by an even older Eggman after a mix-up of Amy's ADN with the formula he had to create an organic Metal so it ended up as a mess that have not use to him, he proceeded to give the cyborg child to Metal and Amy and so they are parents now! *they grow naturately with time as a sentient learning cyborg.

Then we have the sonadilver golden boy: NOVA!

Nova is a mobian that was born out of a massive space phenomenom that Sonic, Shadow and Silver restrained in their super forms (he is basically a compressed star.)

He has aerokinesis: He can float, get aceleration and bend air at will.

Nova is also a MASSIVE TROUBLEMAKER, he is a dj (like arts and music) and is kind of an extremist performer with too much power and confidence for his own good, seeking trouble and causing problems for the fun of it because he is certain he can fix things (he abuses of the chaos emeralds a LOT)

But he is kind of a superstar because of it and the way he goes against the current Eggman Empire. wich lead us to...

SAGE is the new princess in charge of the Eggman Empire and the whole Eggnet.

She is following the steps of her elderly father and fulfilling his job and evil vision updating and "growing" over the years. By proxy, she is MIA's aunt and also NOVA'S #1 nemesis.

Nova wrecks stuff to the core and let's the chaos emeralds have nature take over it because she is even more poisonous than Eggman and grows all the time as a dangerous virus. *They respect eachother above anything else tho.

!! THAT IS THE START OF THE MASTER THREAT FOR NOW !!

I have other fankids and more lore to make, but that also means more characters to design and more stuff to draw so have patience with me. You are free to ask away anything you want about this tho, that would be fun <3

#sth #sonic fanart #sonic the hedgehog #au #fankids au #fanchilds au #ocs #grown-up characters #futuristic au? #idk #metamy #sonadilver #sage the ai #I need to stop doing this to myself #my ships are so specific that I had to do this

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt:

Pairing: Mafia! Octavinelle and MC/Yuu/ Reader

Genre: Hurt/ Comfort ig? Slight crack

TW: Kidnapping, blood, minor character deaths, mc does get a little hurt, mentions of guns, usage of guns, violence (because mafia au), mc also curses at one point, talk of killing people, the prefect wears earrings and has hair (i saw someone use put this in warnings once). Let me know if I should add anything else!

AN: First request for TWST ^^ It's my first time writing for the Octavinelle trio, so please forgive me if they're ooc, I tried my best. This was very fun to work on! Send me asks if you wanna know more about my version of mafia!twst because I had so many thoughts about this entire au but I couldn't fit everything in one post lol. Not really happy with the ending (when am I ever) but I hope you enjoy!

"I'm telling you, you don't wanna do this," You warned your captors for the third time as they checked the cuffs holding you up by your arms. It was an uncomfortable position, kneeling with your arms restrained with metal chains above your head. Your shoulders felt sore, and with how every movement made the skin of your wrists rub against the harsh metal, you just knew that you were going to be sporting some pretty nasty bruises around them.

Vil was going to be furious about that.

You watched as the leader came into your range of vision, a self-satisfied smirk painting his face as he walked over to you. There was quite some distance for him to cross to reach you, and he took his sweet time as he leisurely walked over to you. Probably an intimidation tactic, just like how making you kneel was.

You looked at him, unperturbed. Your eyes roamed over the man, who for all his intimidation tactics, was nothing but a poor little boy way in over his head. A reckless little minnow who didn't know his place, as Floyd would say.

Speaking of Floyd. You grimaced at the monstrosity of an outfit the man was wearing. In all your time as a valued member of the mafia, you had seen many outlandish outfits, courtsey of the more openly unhinged Leech twin and the field of work you were in (power had a way of killing the fashion sense of people and letting it rot inside their head). But this... was on a whole another level.

You mentally lit a candle for everyone who had to witness the... very unique display.

A sharp slap snapped you out of your thoughts. 'Did this man, just backhand me? Well fuck you too bitch', You thought to yourself as you looked back at the still smirking man. You could feel a bit of wetness at the edge of your lip, a slight stinging also being felt at the same spot. Your tongue darted out, recognizing the metallic taste of blood as you gingerly licked at the small wound.

"So this is the little Prefect of Night Raven, hm? How... pathetic. Truly, the mafia organization has fallen if they allow the likes of you to hold any position higher than a discardable pawn," he huffed, and you resisted rolling your eyes. Here comes the villainous monologue, you thought to yourself.

As the man spoke, you took note of the people in the room. Apart from you and the man, there were five other men, all very familiar faces. All of them were earlier members of NRC, who left the organization 'honorably' before your appointment as the consigliere to Dire Crowley, the main boss.

There was nothing honorable about the way they were treating you right now though.

Very reluctantly, you listened to the man's speech about how he was basically aiming to cripple Night Raven Mafia by killing you. You forced back a yawn through the speech that was supposed to strike fear into your heart; unfortunately for him, you dealt with seven very unpredictable and occasionally difficult underbosses on a daily basis. Said underbosses must have already been informed of your forced absence.

Now it was just a matter of waiting and watching to see exactly who would come to your rescue...

The door slammed open as soon as you thought that, and the eyes of every person in the room turned to it. You smiled as a very familiar face entered the room, his mismatched eyes dark and foreboding.

"Hi Floyd," you chirped, unfazed by the frown on his face and the dangerous aura around him. Floyd's eyes met yours for a moment, brightening at seeing you, before turning even harsher when he saw the state you were in; clothes (gifted to you by Riddle) rumpled, carefully styled hair (courtesy of Vil) in a disarray, and a slight swelling on the side of your face you were struck at (which would send nearly everyone into a murderous frenzy).

"Who touched my Shrimpy?" Floyd growled out at the men. "Don'tcha know that I'm the only one allowed to rough them up? You're just begging to be squeezed to death."

At this point, the men, who were earlier frozen in fear, started to fumble with their guns. Before they could even get their weapons out, gunshots rang throughout the room, each man dropping to the floor one by one.

"Ah, pardon me, but I would prefer if you did not aim your weapons at my brother," a familiar voice spoke from behind Floyd to the now dead men in the room.

You grimaced at the blood now flowing out and seeping onto the floor, the puddle growing in size and inching closer to you.

"Jade, get me out of these things," you said, successfully getting his attention as you rattled the chains holding you up.

"Ah, of course dear Prefect," Jade hummed, and you did not need to look at his face to know that he was smiling. Jade walked over to you, stopping only to take the keys to your chains from the pocket of the leader. Placing the key into the lock and turning it released you from your uncomfortable position, and you yelped as you flopped onto the ground unceremoniously.

"Shrimpy~" Floyd's rapid changes in mood was one thing you did not believe you would ever get used to, "did you really get kidnapped by this sad little bunch of minnows?" He asked, pulling you to your feet and slightly spinning you.

"Shrimpy is so helpless~"

"Indeed," Jade smiled, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. You would never get used to the all too malicious upturn of Jade's lips either. He took you from Floyd's arms, ignoring his twin's grumbling as he dusted off your clothes. "Pray tell, how could such... insignificant little men capture you, dear Prefect?"

Before you could answer, a third voice rang through the room. "Jade! Floyd! I told you not to kill any of them!" Azul huffed as he entered your line of vision, glaring at the two men who sandwiched you.

"Ah, pardon me Azul, but they were going to aim their weapons at Floyd. Not to mention how terribly they were treating the Prefect," Jade hummed, not at all repentant of his actions. Azul huffed in frustration, glaring at his consigliere.

You gave him a little wave, and Azul's eyes softened as they met yours. He looked calm and collected as he walked over to you, but the trembling of his hands as he held yours gave his true feelings away. His eyes quickly scanned your body for wounds, narrowing in displeasure at the reddened skin around your wrists and the cut on the corner of your lip.

"Prefect."

"Azul," you said, not missing the way his eyes relaxed considerably as he saw you wearing the seashell earrings he had gifted you. "Ah, so that was how Idia-san found out you were kidnapped almost immediately," he hummed. You raised an eyebrow at his words.

"The earrings have trackers in them," Jade helpfully explained.

"Well, in any case, we must take you back to the Lounge. Everyone else must have assembled there by now."

"Huh? Why?"

"Because, Prefect, we were supposed to bring your kidnappers so that a joint decision could be taken for their punishment," Azul sighed as he pushed his glasses up his nose slightly.

You glanced at your kidnappers, wrinkling your nose as the blood puddle slowly crept closer to your shoes. "They're dead."

"A most unfortunate incident, yes. But, nevertheless, their identities will suffice for now. This just goes to show that we must never leave any loose ties," Azul said ominously. "Perhaps my dear colleagues will learn a lesson from this."

"... Sure. And how did you three manage to make them stay back at the Lounge while you carried out this rescue mission?"

"The heads found it best to send us three since we were most likely to bring your captors back alive," Azul said, glaring at Floyd who just roamed around the room disinterested in the conversation. "Well, that is what Crewel and Trein thought, at least."

You chuckled. "I don't think the outcome would've been any different with the others either so... let's just get to the Lounge."

Azul smiled. "As you wish, Prefect."

#first time writing for octavinelle bbys im very nervous #apologies if they seem ooc or mischaracterized i didnt mean to #here goes nothing #twst #twst writing #twst fanfic #twst octavinelle #octavinelle #twst azul #twst jade #twst floyd #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x you #twosted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x mc #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #ice writes #my writing

[artkotaro]

Question what if the organic metal sonics where sonics brothers?

[Ask (71)]

Eh...yes...these three are brothers...but they are not related to Sonic, As said Metal, they are not something natural...

#metal organic au #sonic au #ask metal organic au #metal sonic #organic metal sonic #organic mecha sonic #mecha sonic #silver sonic prototype

[metal-organic-au]

*Places candles around Shadow and actively prays*

(It's too beautiful)

Ask [91]

SHADOW!!

#metal organic au #sonic au #ask metal organic au #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedgehog

[9474s0ul]

In Silver's Timeline, are both Organic Metal Sonic and grown-up Sage the recurring baddies to Silver the Hedgehog (in similar vein to Eggman and Sonic rivalry)?

If so, I can't help but imagine Silver (going back in time) be caught off-guard by young child Sage and confused about Metal Sonic being silent and not having "organic suit" on standby.

Well I’ve thought about it but yeah, they’re the recurring baddies.

#asks #sonic au #silver the hedgehog #metal sonic #sage the ai #sage robotnik #organic metal sonic #sonic #sth #fanart

[semisolidmind]

So... how would the scene play out with Azure helping MK, Mei, and reincarnated Peaches go? Would he take the opportunity to yoink Peaches with Sun Wukong and/or Macaque trapped in the scroll (if that even happens)?

Or if he successfully becomes Jade emperor would he let the power get to his head and hold Peaches captive?

These are just some scenarios that have crossed my mind, feel free to ignore!

ooooohoohoo skye i love your questions

we'll just go with modern twice as bad au, to keep this relatively simple. it takes place in the lmk timeline; wukong and macaque are big bad guys, mk was raised by wukong and looks naturally like his monkey self, reader in the current era is a reincarnation of the reader from the past who was killed whilst on the journey with her two demon husbands, said husbands have been intermittently causing trouble and flirting with her every chance they get. reader works at pigsys alongside mk as the cashier/other delivery person, and is friends with the gang.

so, i imagine this is happening after the final lbd fight, but in this au wukong and macaque are also big bads, so their helping to defeat her is more because mk asked than out of any sense of heroism. they're still very much evil, they insist, and after that little bout of heroism they go back to being the bastards everyone knows them as. buuuut just a bit more tolerant of mk's friends (mostly because reader has influenced them with kindness bit by bit up to this point, shoujo-protagonist-style).

wukong invites reader to come to the mountain with mk after his monster-of-the-week battle with the twin metal demons in order to "help them organize" all the junk the kid is bringing home. really, he just wanted to get reader to the mountain so he could see her again and tease her (maybe she inadvertently admitted to finding him attractive in a heated moment the last time they met, during the big battle. like, telling him to get his big dumb handsome head in the game or smth idk). macaque joins in on the teasing too, of course.

mk, ever oblivious to his caretakers blatantly flirting with his coworker, opens the memory scroll by mistake. it almost gets him, if not for macaque quickly grabbing him by the back of his shirt and tossing him out of the way. unfortunately, this means the six-eared demon is absorbed into the ink. mk turns to wukong for help, and is firmly told to take reader and run. wukong stops a strike from the ink entity before being absorbed as well. reader and mk call out for them, but run for their lives until they get beyond the scrolls reach.

they go back later with their friends, the gang excluding mei get absorbed, and they're saved by a lion demon who introduces himself as azure.

the newcomer pauses when he looks at reader, a strange, stricken look crossing his features, almost as if he recognizes her. he looks like he wants to say something...but the moment passes and he continues his introduction. the two teens insist on going to save their friends (kinda ignoring reader's concerned voice in the bg), and he eventually agrees to help them.

the monkey demon boy and dragon girl go into the scroll (with the same reckless excitement they display in every other aspect of their lives), leaving reader behind with an unfamiliar demon. the distrust must show on her face, because said demon maintains his distance with the promise that he means her no harm.

azure tries to reassure reader, and offers to answer the many questions he's sure she has.

azure would explain the story a bit more in depth to reader (spinning it in his favor, of course). he would tell her the truths the monkey demons are hesitant to say; how reader's previous incarnation was a captive wife to the so-called great sage and his general, how monstrous the two really were, just how much bloodshed and chaos they caused... even when in service of the great monk.

reader is stunned—but not as surprised as she thought she'd be. anyone who pays even the slightest mote of attention to the world around them could tell you about just how much trouble the infamous monkey king is responsible for. kidnapping and hostage-taking seems tame in comparison.

when azure tells her point-blank who she used to be, reader goes silent. she's always felt a strange pull in her chest whenever she's around wukong and macaque. like she wants to get closer, but also wants to run as far away from them as she can. it's sobering to know why. she feels something similar when she looks at azure, she admits.

he chuckles fondly at her. it makes sense, he says, they used to be close after all. among the monkey king's allies, he was the only one who befriended the human queen of flower fruit mountain. azure assures her that her previous self was a kind person, that she had many friends who mourned her passing; himself included. reader says nothing, too stunned to speak.

azure lion rises from where he sits, stating that he must move the ritual site to his own home in order to bring the many victims of the scroll safely out. reader insists that she go with him. no offense, but i don't trust you with them, she says. azure chuckles, agreeing that blindly trusting someone you've just met wouldn't be very sensible. the two travel to camel ridge, and azure gives reader a tour.

---

sometime later, mk and mei bring each of their friends back to their present selves. they manage to free themselves as well (after mk has an...enlightening encounter with the scrolls' curse about his human half). they learn some interesting things about their past selves, and their many foes. they break themselves out of the scroll and confront azure about everything they've seen.

azure is holding reader hostage. the lion pins reader to his chest, and she struggles in vain to escape his grip. she yells, hurriedly telling them that azure isn't a good guy, he—! the lion moves his paw over her mouth. his expression is grim as she claws at the appendage.

the gang barely hold back from attacking him, not wanting to hurt reader in the process. though mei stubbornly tries to land a strike at the lion's head, getting knocked back.

azure says he didn't want to do it this way, but...he can't have anyone messing up his plans.

perhaps he puts reader into a scroll peice, right before the very eyes of her friends.

they stand horrified as she dissapears. azure glances at the scroll peice, tracing the characters of reader's name with his eyes. his expression softens a bit. he delivers his monologue to the gang, azure frees his brothers, they attempt to fight, the gang flees when their weapons are taken. they hate to leave reader behind, but... they're outmatched.

---

reader is forced to relive key moments in her past life as captive queen of the monkey king and the six-eared macaque. she learns more about them than she ever thought she would (way, way more; some of those memories were spicy 👀). she begins to understand why they treat her like they do, despite her seemingly being just another of mk's friends.

she plans on confronting them about it once she's been freed.

meanwhile, the gang is training and getting better, trying to figure out how to get both reader and wukong's scroll peices back. reader's peice is better hidden than wukong's, and so it'll be more difficult to recover. they have no idea where macaque's peice is, but one mystic monkey on their side is better than none. they know the two warlords are their best bet for defeating azure and the brotherhood.

thanks to some quick thinking, somewhat of a plan, and a whole lotta luck, the gang recovers wukong's scroll peice. they repair it, and it only takes a bit of prying from mk to get him out. the ginger-furred demon really doesn't like dwelling on his memories.

the rage radiating off the newly-freed monkey king is palpable. the hatred he feels for his once-allies is a force all on its own. now, mk and the gang just need to unleash it.

everyone is on edge during the battle, choosing to keep their distance and do their part while monkey king and mk fight azure. wukong demands to know where reader is. what have they done with her? if they laid even a single hand on her their lives are forfeit, he promises. he and azure fight for a while, trading jabs and airing out their grievances... to kinda everyone? the friends never would've guessed monkey king had romantic drama, but here they are.

it's likely they don't get reader's scroll peice back until later. i imagine macaque, after being freed (maybe it's revealed he was never trapped at all and it was just a trick; he sank into a shadow, not the ink, and that's why they don't see him in the scroll; watching and waiting for the right time to strike), sneaking into the jade palace to find her. he knows that the lion would keep her someplace he thinks she won't be in danger of being broken. when mac does find her (hidden by the throne, wrapped in a part of the lions' old cape), he handles the scroll peice as gently as glass, pressing it to his chest as he leaves the palace. he'll be the one to bring her out. he was her favorite, after all.

(kinda phoning in this part cause ive run outta steam)

the big battle happens, the gang defeats azure, they kill him, it's real sad, things sorta go back to normal. i imagine that wukong, macaque, and reader will have to have a long talk about everything.

#bad end wukong #twice as bad au #this takes knowledge of season 4 to understand #this kinda reads like a summary but with my lil spin on it #im kinda phoning it in towards the end #lion's den au

[yoongsisbae]

King of Corruption | MYG

Sequel to Christmas Mass. Yoongi x reader Demon AU. Dark smut.

The organ player takes his time with you, holding you and caressing your body while you sleep, until you can’t discern your dreams from your reality. A king and a sleeping beauty, his name leaves your lips like a prayer, prostated at his feet in blind reverence…the perfect position for him to corrupt and defile you. 

I promised readers a Yoongi version if Christmas Mass hit 1,000 notes, and you did it! Round of applause for you! This story is all your fault :D. Please please please heed the warnings, this is dreadfully filthy u.u.

Trigger warnings: 18+ dark themes, horror, demons, religion, smut, boss x employee, wanna experience the trauma of having an office job? this fic is for you!, power imbalance, Yoongi is literally the worst boss ever lol, yoongi is unhinged (remember that you wanted this sequel :’)) sloth is one of the hardest sins to really articulate - I wanted it to be a bit more than just sleepy/lazy, sleeping beauty syndrome, rough sex, corruption kink, pain kink, sadism, degradation, name calling, possession, reader manipulation, mental torture/mind break, dubcon, dark ending

Word Count: 8.9k

---

It’s quiet.

Apart from the clicking, dozens of busy hands typing away, needing to meet quarterly deadlines by the end of the month, less than a week away. 

What day is it? Tuesday? Thursday? 

So quiet.

Apart from papers shuffling back and forth and dress shoes thudding on thin office carpet; employees chasing down their supervisors, the gurgling of the water cooler dispensing another cold metallic tasting cup of water.

Click click click.

It’s almost closing time. Yet, you know you’ll be here at least two more hours along with everyone else. Your fingers are cramping, your legs shake up and down as you sit idle. You’re hungry and tired and so sick of these long office hours.

Tap tap tap.

Your office cell buzzes, a message popping up: ‘Come to my office.’

You press your lips together, annoyed.

Tap tap-

Your fingers hover over your keyboard as you finish looking over your current spreadsheet, double checking that the totals match the expense reports on your desk.

Click click click.

Tap tap tap.

Buzz. ‘Now.’ 

You sigh quietly, standing up. 

Walking past rows of cubicles, you trek towards your manager’s private office, knocking softly before entering.

“Sir?”

He calls you closer with a lazy gesture, crossing his arms. He stares at you in silence for far too long, making you fidget uncomfortably on the spot. Lowering your head down you look at the objects on his desk, unable to meet his eyes.

A Newton’s cradle, at a standstill.

An ornate letter opener, shaped like a small needle dagger.

Countless papers, so scattered the desk wood is hardly seen.

“Y/n.”

“Yes, Sir?” You look up obediently.

Yoongi leans back in his office chair, eyes looking through you.

“I need these finished before you leave today.” He gestures down at the stack of reports at the corner of his desk.

Your eyes go wide, there’s at least three more hours of work piled up high. “B-But Sir-”

“Our quarterly deadline is in less than-”

“-a week,” you finish for him, dejected. “These have to be done today?” you ask, “Can’t I, um, come in early in the morning instead-”

Yoongi clears his throat and shakes his head, cracking his pointer finger with his thumb, turning the silver ring around the digit out of habit. “I needed those reports done yesterday.”

“Oh…”

You want to scream.

“...okay.”

“Okay.” He repeats impatiently. “Work on these first, I can’t finish what I have to do until I get those reports back.”

You exhale, reluctantly nodding and reaching for the extra work.

Yoongi slams his pen down, making you jump. “As soon as possible, y/n, okay? Got it?”

You nod quickly, turning on your heel, desperate to hide away from his stern gaze. Yoongi’s presence is intimidating, his curtness makes you feel like a child, dumb and incompetent. ‘Just get it done,’ you think, then you can go home, far away from this hell.

Yoongi watches your retreating figure, sighing, “How tiring…” he mumbles, a sly grin hiding behind his knuckles.

---

Your eyes sting, the blue electronic screen glow under half-dimmed office lights could seem sinister if you weren’t so focused, tiredly saving updated files to the company’s servers. Somehow you are always the last one left at your desk, a “model employee,” by administrative standards of course.

You rub your eyes. Eat, you need to eat, before you pass out.

‘Saving: 78%’ You look around, forgetting there was nobody left around for you to disturb. You look through your purse for some change to buy a snack bar from the company’s vending machine, anything to eat just so you can make it home in one piece.

Under closing lights the bright shine inside the vending machine makes the cheap snacks inside look incredibly appetizing, or perhaps it was because you skipped lunch today...

You rest your head on the glass of the vending machine, watching the agonizingly slow twirl of springs as your snack bar...gets stuck.

No. Not now!

Closing your eyes, you debate on whether to start screaming or crying.

‘Come on!’

Of course only you could be this unlucky. You try to quietly hit your fist on the glass, harder again when nothing moves. 

‘FUCK THIS FUCKING SHIT,’ you think, cursing your life.

You shift your weight between legs, thinking, itching to kick the damn thing. No, you shouldn’t make a scene. Biting your tongue, you lean your body against the side of the vending machine, using your shoulder to nudge the large appliance.

‘FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU-’

Someone clears their throat.

You look up and stare into a pair of intense eyes, dark irises silently judging you.

It’s one of the rare times you’ve seen your boss without his coat jacket on, Yoongi’s unkept appearance surprising you. His tie is pulled down, top two buttons unfastened, the gel in the front strands of his hair has lost its hold, causing his bangs to frame his sharp cheekbones. His cheeks are flushed, a sign he has been doing more than just sitting at his desk all day, it makes you wonder what or who...

Yoongi swipes his credit card and hits the same two numbers you had chosen.

He bends down slowly, pulling two bars from the machine. Your lip trembles as you build up enough courage to speak. ‘That’s my bar.’

Just ask for it.

Just say it.

Say something!

-

“That’s mine,” you summon the courage to speak up.

Yoongi laughs softly. “Yours?” he hums.

He stares at you, and you realize he has no intention of giving you what you want.

You immediately look down out of habit. You would have let it go, scurried away before Yoongi really got annoyed at you, but you only brought enough change for one bar. “Y-Yes.”

“No.”

“It is! I paid for it, it got stuck, the stupid machine-” you trail off, realizing you were speaking your thoughts aloud.

“Nothing here is yours, y/n,” he tuts. His tone catches you off guard, and when you look up his expression is even more surprising. Yoongi is leaning against the machine, smiling at you.

A smile is usually friendly, welcoming.

Not like this.

His crescent eyes don’t twinkle, they gleam with a malice that makes your body stiffen.

He chuckles, staring at your gaping mouth. “This belongs to me. This whole company is mine,” he smiles. “And do you know what else is mine?”

“Huh?” you can only ask dumbly, frozen by his sudden icy demeanor.

You yelp when he grabs the back of your neck so swiftly you trip over yourself trying to pull free.

Yoongi forces you back against the cold vending machine glass.

He whispers his next words so softly in your ear, you wouldn't have believed he was capable of such tenderness in the midst of such aggression. “You belong to me.”

He runs his thumb harshly over your bottom lip smearing your lipstick down your chin, gripping your face in his hands so tightly it stings. You gasp out his name in surprise, jolting when he presses his knee between your legs. “You’re mine,” he whispers.

-

Your boss holds out one of the small snack bars in your direction. “Y/n?”

You shake out of your stupor, looking at Yoongi as he stares back at you blankly. “Y-Yes Sir?” you ask, realizing he was offering you the extra bar.

He stood three paces away from you, not close at all, but your body felt jittery thinking of his skin against yours, how it would feel if he pushed you against the vending machine and had his way with you.

Your thoughts horrify you. It had felt so real, you were still lingering in your own delusions. Your boss...he’s your boss. Why would you think such horrible things about your boss?!

You grab the bar away from him so quickly he stares down at his open palm.

You keep your head bowed, silencing away those horribly intrusive thoughts burning through your body like a forgotten muscle memory. Yoongi steps closer to you, eyes peering down at the bar held tightly to your chest. “I-I-”

“Y/n, go home.”

---

You put on the television.

It only takes a few minutes before your attention is on your phone instead, checking the latest trends. You scroll quickly, unfocused, so you didn’t have to think of the horribly embarrassing moments you had today.

If your thoughts become too loud, like tonight, you drown them out with music, adding another layer of noise inside your quiet home.

This has become routine.

You spend the night scrolling through images of popular celebrities, cute half naked men and women with soft features and sweet smiles so you wouldn’t think about him...

Your boss.

Min Yoongi.

Yoongi’s intimidating appearance, so unlike the warm and friendly celebrities displayed on your screens. Yoongi’s sharp angry eyes, you wonder what makes him happy. Yoongi’s deep drawling voice, that voice, what would it sound like in your ear? Oh, the way Yoongi runs his tongue over his lips when he concentrates...

You own tongue licks across your teeth thinking about it.

Your boss had a notorious reputation, there’s always been office gossip between chatty women who giggle amongst themselves when he walks by. Stories to explain why his assistants never stay for too long, and rumors of a terrible terrible temper. You’ve never seen it for yourself, but god help you, you can’t help but imagine...

Something must be under that listless facade he always exhibits for him to be so successful...

A fierceness...

You shake your head, sighing. Something is wrong with you, you think, ashamed at yourself. Stop y/n. You’re not brave enough to play with fire like that. You’re his subordinate and you’re fairly certain he finds you annoying, like a pest, and you’re definitely certain he is out of your league.

No, Mr. Min seems like the type who doesn’t bother with relationships anyways, the type to scoff at romantic gestures, probably prefers high class escorts and busy women who would leave him alone to his own devices. Your boss is not a nice man.

But there’s just something about him...that hooks you, in the lungs, in the chest, in the pit of your stomach. You’ve been wholly ensnared by him.

You pull your legs up, burying your face in your knees, hiding away. A silly gesture, you were all alone in your home after all.

You turn up the volume on your television and laughter fills your house. Rehearsed, giddy, raucous laughter. A show you’ve probably already watched before. You can barely crack a smile in response.

You eat a cold meal of leftovers, too lazy to cook for yourself, too hungry to even wait the time it takes until it heats up.

You move from the couch to the bed, and fall asleep quickly, exhausted.

---

You gasp for air, waking up.

Where had you been? Were you drowning? You catch your breath. No. Then why are you wet? Is that sweat?

It’s too dark to see. You try to move, but something heavy holds you down.

“What’s going on?” you murmur. 

Something is wrong. Very wrong.

“Go back to sleep,” a deep drawl mumbles.

You know that voice.

Who is it? His name is on the tip of your tongue.

Your limbs feel so heavy, so tired. It can’t be morning yet, it’s too dark for that.

You still have time to sleep more, go back to dreaming, enjoying that pleasant feeling again, so good you can still feel it creeping over your limbs...

...up your body...

...inside you...

It’s a nice feeling, it was a nice dream. It’s where you want to be, where you want to stay. Just until morning, just until you have to go back to reality, back to work, where everything hurts and is exhausting and unpleasant, a deadline on top of a deadline, a bunch of dead ends, finish lines with no rewards.

You rather stay in bed and sleep.

That dream, what was it about? You try to remember, get it back, so you can go back, anywhere but here.

You groan, chest heavy. Just a little bit more time is all you need. Let the sun stay away for a little longer. Let the shadows hide you away. Please.

That dream, you’re almost there, it’s coming back to you like a sweet lovely serenade, sung by lips pressed against your skin.

A rhythm begins inside you that makes your body sink deeper, two fingers pulling out the song inside you, making you ache to hear more.

A deep sigh against your thigh followed by a chuckle makes you whine in tune. You think it almost feels too good to be just in your imagination, right before you fall deeper.

---

“Am I boring you?”

A sharp kick to the back of your chair by your coworker jolts you. “S-Sir? N-No, no– No, Sir.” 

Shit, now everyone in the meeting room has their eyes on you. Your boss continues to chastise you. You shrink inward, gripping the ends of your skirt hard enough to wrinkle. 

Yoongi asks your thoughts on the presentation so far, already knowing you don’t have an answer. You stutter out the notes you’ve written down, riffling through the papers in front of you and he corrects you, flustering you even more.

You mumble out an apology. You hate being the center of attention, you wish to disappear. Taking your pen and piercing it into the soft part of your throat would be less painful than the embarrassment you’re feeling and when you hear giggles on your left part of you contemplates on actually doing it and ending it all!

God, will this reflect poorly on your performance review?!

You try not to shake as you scribble down what he’s saying, ignoring his eyes fixated right on you. ‘Why me?’ you write in the corner of your notebook, holding off tears of frustration.

Why does Mr. Min always seem to be picking on you?

-

“Everyone is dismissed,” Yoongi says after the meeting concludes. He calls out to you before you can leave, asking you to see him in his office.

You wince. Of course, you never get a break from working.

You sit on the couch by his desk, waiting. He’s making you wait on him. When you should be eating lunch with everyone else. You swallow down your growing resentment instead.

It’s bitter.

Your leg shakes in boredom, your foot tapping on Yoongi’s office carpet. Time just ticks on by, slower and slower until you can’t take it.

You feel hungry and annoyed and worst of all, you feel deep restlessness, uneasiness working up your limbs and into the pit of your stomach until you wish to scream, run, anything.

How much can you tolerate before you explode? Act out? That’s what Yoongi seems to want to find out.

Your boss walks in, shutting the door to his office behind him.

Instead of sitting at his desk, he sits next to you on his couch, limbs sprawled out as he rests.

“Why did you need– Was there something you needed to discuss with me, Sir?” you ask, trying not to sound impatient.

“Y/n…” The way he drags out your name, deepening his voice, has you holding your breath, waiting for his next words. He runs his hands through his hair, fixing the strands away from his eyes.

“How long have you worked for me?” Yoongi asks, testing you.

“I…” you pause. How long has it been? It must be years now, right? This is your first job, you can’t remember having any other. “A very long time,” you laugh awkwardly, hoping he doesn’t ask you anymore about it. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Yoongi glances at you, fingers tapping on his knee as he stretches his legs. He adjusts his hips, moving closer towards you. “No, well, I think it’s time for a promotion, don’t you?”

“Oh?” You say, surprised. You would have bet Mr. Min would have fired you before ever promoting you.

“From now on you’ll be working directly under me. This department is growing, and I need an assistance manager. You’re a hard worker, your performance accuracy are always high, and I think you’ll be a perfect fit.”

You stay quiet, only nodding in acknowledgement. The idea of seeing more of him was burdensome. But you can’t help but fixate on his compliments, Yoongi called you ‘perfect.’

“How does that sound?”

“Sounds...great.”

He crosses his arms, “Yeah?”

“Yes...”

He glances in your direction frowning, “Really? Because you look like I just told you someone died-”

“No, sir!” you recoil, “I’m sorry Sir, I’m just surprised! I thought you were mad at me,” you say softly, looking down at your knees pressed tightly together.

He reaches out to you, turning your chin to face him. “Y/n, tell me, do you like your job?”

-

You can’t exactly be honest and tell your boss how much you…

…hate it here.

“Yes, I’m very grateful for the opportunity-”

Yoongi frowns again, his touch becoming rougher. “You can tell me the truth, y/n.”

“Oh...I-l really like my job.”

He laughs.

And then, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back over the couch cushion. It’s quick and unexpected and...just like that time before...

What’s going on?!

“Do you?” he asks, a smug smile on his face. “You like your job?” he laughs.

“Y-Yes!” you defend yourself, pulling desperately at his arm. If you told him the truth, he would fire you. Then what would you do? How will you pay your bills? If you fought back against him, who would believe you? This goddamn job was all you had.

“Oh,” He nods back, voice pitched higher and seeming to mock your own voice. “You like this?” he laughs, dragging your body down, hovering over you. 

This is Yoongi? His demeanor shifted so quickly you can barely recognize him as the same man. Your boss was reserved, almost apathetic to things. The man looking down at you seemed unhinged, animated, barely contained.

You didn’t know what this man was capable of. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “What do y-you want me to say?” you whimper, words barely audible.

“Still that quiet little lamb?” He holds you down so tightly your scalp burns and his other hand snakes around your throat threateningly, bending over you until your foreheads touch. “Spineless, dumb girl, this is the best you could want? Is this what you gave up everything for?” he asks, shaking your body.

You don’t understand what he’s saying or why he’s doing this, but something inside you feels ashamed at his words, like you’ve done something horribly wrong and you don’t even realize it, like a child being yelled at for going to a place they shouldn’t without an adult. You shouldn’t be here...

You want to leave!

You cry out, fighting against him. You try to scream, sound muffled by the pressure of his fingers around your neck.

Yoongi sits his full weight on top of you, his designer suit pulling at the itchy fabric of your cheap bargain clothes.

“You so desperately want to feel something, it’s all you can think about, all you can dream about. If you want to feel, I can make you feel. I can make you hurt. And I can make it feel so good. If I took away that numbness inside you, fill you up with my cock instead, wouldn’t that be nice?”

His words don’t make sense. He sounds like an echo of your thoughts being thrown back at you, like a twisted mirror showing your reflection. How could he know? 

You stop struggling, surrendering. Yoongi is too strong, too heavy, too much for you. His eyes bore into you, deep dark irises with endless depth. You can’t look away and you start to cry.

This must be what drowning feels like, pain you’re forced to confront, a miserable knowing that you steadily lower into. It’s Yoongi who reaches for you, and it didn’t matter that he was pulling you down deeper, you cling to him for salvation.

-

“Do you like your job? Y/n?”

You gasp in air, looking at Yoongi’s passive face. Your hands immediately massage your itchy throat as you look around his office, catching your breath. 

What the hell.

You feel like you’re losing your mind, grasping at something slipping between your fingers, something you can’t explain.

What the hell was that?

It had felt so real, so palpable, so shocking, like electricity through all your tired joints.

Yoongi clears his throat, tilting his head at you as you try to regain your composure.

“D-Do I like my job? I…yes, it’s fine. I’m fine,” you breathe out. You continue to look around the room and where Yoongi sits next to you. What was that?! Did you really imagine it all? 

“Really?” He crosses his arms.

You laugh nervously. “Are you supposed to like your job? Don’t they say you shouldn’t turn what you love into work, you’ll grow to hate it or something like that, I think,” you trail off, unconfident you made any sense to him. “But this is a really good position! Thank you for the, um, promotion.”

“I see...” he says. “You know, this place is not my first choice, but I can appreciate this kind of job, it molds a certain kind of person. Someone disciplined, useful. Humans are natural born workers, did you know that? The very first man and woman had jobs. When God asked Adam and Eve to tend to his Garden. Humankind was created to work, to follow.”

This conversation is so odd. “Yes...”

“So do you think you can do that for me?” he asks, clasping his hands together.

“What, Sir?”

“Follow me.”

“I...”

“You look a bit sick,” he says, touching your forehead, causing you to flinch away.

“Y-Yeah,” you mumble, looking around his office again, worried you weren’t hearing things correctly, worried you were sick in another way, maybe you should talk to someone, go to HR. “I think I, uh, maybe need to take a sick day tomorrow.”

Yoongi frowns. “Take a half day, go home for the rest of today and get better, I need you back here tomorrow,” he commands.

“Okay,” you say shakily. “Yes, Sir.”

---

“Where am I?”

It’s a familiar room you’ve only visited in your dreams. A room with no doors. A realm you know you don’t belong in, but can’t help but come back to again and again. You should be used to the fear creeping over you, but you can’t remember why.

“Stay away.” Your words echo, come out as a weak whisper. “This is a dream, just a dream,” you mutter to yourself, trying to stand, but unable to.

Yoongi walks closer to you, ignoring your pleas.

You boss? His clothes change from the familiar sleek blue suit you remembered him in into black, brown hair to stark silver, deep dark eyes becoming even darker, turning into obsidian orbs. 

You shut your eyes tightly. Your limbs feel heavy and slow, unable to move at the speed you wanted, unable to get out, unable to leave. Your body feels fractured from your mind, the physics of your dream always working against you. 

“Relax,” His deep voice sends goosebumps over your skin, the pads of his fingers dig into your sole, relaxing the muscles. You open your eyes and see Yoongi back to normal again, strong hands cradling your foot. His touch is so relaxing and pleasurable, and for a moment you forget why you’re so scared, the tension releasing from your stressed body with every deep stroke across your sole and down your calf.

“Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream.” You repeat the words like a mantra when he lets your foot drop, the familiar weight of his body back again.

“Would you like to go back already? We just started.” His skillful hands presses into your skin, up your thigh, closer and closer, kneading the muscle in tantalizing circles, replacing the tension in your body with desire. “Let go and enjoy it, y/n.”

But you can’t, you need to wake up. You shouldn’t escape into your fantasies and shut out the real world every time you become stressed. How many nights has it been? Your twisted day dreams have turned into full fledged nightmares, and now you can’t escape him, this reoccurring torturous cycle every time you close your eyes and think about Yoongi.

‘Wake up, y/n.’ Get out of your head, get out of your house! You can’t keep living like this! 

But you know, you’ll be here again, it just feels too good to stop. You don’t want to do anything but sleep and escape. It’s too easy.

And it’s too hard to resist him.

“Yoongi, fuck me. Please.”

Yoongi tuts, hand caressing down your throat and holding you there under him before he finally decides to stand.

“This time, work for it.”

He moves away and it’s cold loneliness without him on top of you, all you want to do is have him there again.

You feel the sudden energy return back to you at his command now that he wasn’t tangled over you. Your growing desire to have him back propels you.

You move yourself in front of him, getting on your knees. Assuming this is what he meant, you begin to unbuckle his belt.

He watches you, looking down at you dutifully fulfilling his orders. The perfect worker you are. Yoongi could get used to this kind of enthusiasm, even if he prefers you docile and completely pliable to his whims.

As you slowly pull out his length from his pants, you look up to make sure he is pleased. You let your lips stretch around him, taking him in your mouth as far as your throat allows.

“Good girl,” he sighs, “So sweet.”

He holds the back of your head, leading you to take him fully until you choke on his cock. Then he steps back, dragging your body forward by the hair, that way he keeps you connected to him, adjoined to him in the most sinful way.

You clumsily crawl forward, following his lead, knees hitting hard floor, a pain that reminds you just how much power he has over you.

Yoongi takes a seat, spreading his legs to make a place for you to kneel between them. He sighs in pleasure. In your dreams, you boss always seems much more at peace, putting pleasure first, and everything else melts away. Your worries, your responsibilities, your duty is only to him, it makes him happy.

You move your mouth, sucking him down over and over again until your jaw aches, until sweat drips down your forehead and your wrists and knees hurt and you’re messy and dripping for him. He helps guide you as you tire, hands still tangled in your hair.

He’s close, you can tell by the swell of his cock, the loud groans that escape his lips.

You taste his release, salty and thick. Your own is still so far away, you whimper around his still hard cock. Yoongi feels your quiver against him, and he gives you an unexpected mercy. He releases his hold on you, leaning back. “Get up and ride me now.”

You nod quickly, standing up. Yoongi lets you straddle him, awe over his muscular body. You don’t waste any time dropping down on his cock.

He watches you rut your hips side to side, up and down on his hard length, your hips moving fluidly against his own, chasing your pleasure. You reach for his hands and he lets you place his large palms over your breasts, watching as you mewl when he kneads and pulls on them. You place a hand across your collar bone and he takes the invitation to rest it higher, fingers squeezing around your throat, taking your air for his.

Oh, you’re good at this. And all Yoongi has to do is sit back and relax, let you take him, his own cocksleeve. A perfect disciple, willing to learn exactly what pleases him.

You close your eyes and listen to his low whisper, moans of encouragement. “You’re so close, don’t give up on me now, fuck yourself on my cock. That’s my girl. Keep going, come for your master.”

You tremble and whimper out his name like a prayer you’ve wished for over and over.

---

You wake up abruptly, falling off your couch, still in your work clothes from the day before.

You can’t believe you slept the whole day away. Maybe you really were sick. Your muscles ache, your head is spinning and you can’t stop thinking...

...about what it would really feel like...

...to have Yoongi’s hands hold down your body.

You clutch your head. ‘It wasn’t real.’

Your alarm hasn’t gone off, the sun is only just rising, you still have time to shower and get ready for work, but all you want to do is take away the frustratingly clawing ache inside of you, a desperate need you’re too embarrassed to acknowledge.

So you run a cold shower before breakfast instead.

You heave out a long drawn out sigh, letting the cool water hit your back, washing away your shamefulness.

You rest your head on cold tile. ‘Don’t think about him.’

No, don’t think about his rough hands on your delicate neck, his crotch pressed over your stomach, or the feeling of his cock getting harder against you.

Fuck, you want to fuck him.

You try to calm your breathing, tilting your head into the water. What are you doing? Your boss wouldn’t do that! He…

You touch your bottom lip…He could, if he wanted to.

Did you want him to?

The answer frightens you. No no, your morbid curiosity was nothing more than just that. You just wanted to feel fire, but you didn’t want to get burned.

So, like always, you resign yourself to this small depraved little fantasy. Behind shower curtains, hiding in the low light of your bath.

You trail your fingers down between your legs, working yourself up before you could think of talking yourself out of it.

It wasn’t really about him right now anyways. You just needed to release. You were so wound up and desperate, right?

You shudder a yes, pressing your fingers deeper into your sex.

You flinch as your back bumps into warmth. ‘This is not real.’

Smooth, wet skin, pressing back against you, fingers gripping your wrist so you don’t stop.

You feel yourself unraveling as lips run along your shoulder, the same lips you couldn’t stop thinking about. You close your eyes, whimpering, scared to look behind you and either confirm your delusions or become utterly lost in them. 

You pull your fingers out, circling your clit, thinking of how good it feels to have Yoongi pressed against your back, his cock up between your legs.

The way he would be so merciless when he pushes his cock inside you, pulling your leg up higher to angle himself deeper.

You moan, feeling so full it makes your head spin.

The way his fingers would explore your body, gripping you like he owns you, pinching your nipples, pulling at your hips, pressing down on your tongue.

This fantasy feels so real, all that’s missing is…

“Can’t help yourself, greedy slut, can you? You ever wonder why that is, y/n?”

You cry out, focusing on the piercing drag of his cock against your walls. “Aw does it hurt? I told you, I would hurt you.”

He slams into you over again, water splashing with every impact against your ass. You struggle to stay standing, clinging to tile. “You’ll take it, though, like a good obedient whore.”

He pulls out, turning you around.

It shocks you how real this fantasy of yours looks. It’s dangerous how effective your thoughts work to rile you up, he’s dangerous.

“Lusting after monsters, you haven’t changed one bit, y/n.”

“I want to stop it,” you admit, shaking against him out of fear and pleasure. “I don’t know how,” you whimper, knowing you can only ever really have him like this, a twisted version of your boss you made up for yourself. It’s shameful and sickening.

“Because you’re mine. Look at you,” he tuts, “Your soul weeps for me,” he presses his fingers inside your dripping cunt, “But I want more than that, you understand?”

“What?” you stutter out.

He kisses you roughly, swallowing your whines. You close your eyes, lost to pleasure as his tongue rolls over your neck, sucking. You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him, fingers tangling in his wet hair, succumbing to your delusion.

“Devotion. Your sweet devotion, give me your that, and you won’t need to do anything else ever again.”

---

Tap tap tap.

Click Click Click.

What?

What?

Wait. Wait.

You stand up suddenly, startling those working around you. You look around, scanning the familiar setting over and over again.

Afraid you’ll start a scene you turn your heel and walk quickly to the bathroom.

Only when you’re alone and have caught your breath do you go to the mirror and stare at your reflection.

Your hair is still damp, the collar of your work shirt is wet, fading water droplets across your jacket and skirt.

And your panties feel wet, sticking to your core.

Shit, you think, noticing your smudged makeup. How long have you looked like this? You grab paper towels quickly, rubbing away the lipstick smudged under your lip, trying to gather your thoughts together.

What was happening to you? Why can’t you remember how you got here?

You massage your temples, feeling dizzy. There has to be an explanation, you just have to look for it.

But...

...unfortunately, right now you have work to do.

-

You sit at your desk, chewing on crackers, contemplating the idea that you might be going completely insane.

Your cell buzzes. ‘Sixth floor meeting room. Now.’

It’s your boss of course. You can’t face him right now. You turn off your cell, nibbling on your nails in your anxiousness.

This isn’t normal, something is very wrong with you. You end up back in the bathroom, trying to retrace your steps, figuring out the minutes that were escaping you. You turn on the faucet, wetting a towel, running the wet paper across your forehead to calm yourself.

You catch your reflection again, except this time, there are two.

Another person, behind you, staring back.

An image of a devil.

A beautiful devil.

Smiling wickedly behind you, an image of a man so haunting you forget how to breathe.

You scream.

Before you can turn around and confront your worst nightmares the bathroom door bursts open, familiar hands wrapping around your wrists and pulling you away.

Yoongi is pissed.

You can tell as he drags you along, not stopping until you are back in his office.

His nails dig into your elbow, pulling you possessively closer to him. “Missing him?!”

You shake your head frantically. Miss who? Not...

Whoever that was...no, you didn’t want to think about it anymore!

You whimper, feeling weak and dizzy.

“Oh poor little y/n,” Yoongi tuts, “you just need some more rest.”

---

“What do you think you’re doing, my friend?” Jimin asks. “You’re not usually this persistent.”

Yoongi yawns, undoing his tie. “I want her longer.”

Jimin laughs, so loud it would have surely woken you up if it weren’t for Yoongi’s effect on your body. “Fine.”

He watches your brow furrow, “I do enjoy watching the fight in her return,” Jimin laughs.

For all the passion Jimin possessed, Jimin was a heartless demon.

Jimin had thoroughly broken you, taken from you until you had nothing left to give and became a boredom to him. 

So it was Yoongi’s turn. 

“This is a nice little world,” Jimin looks around, flicking the metal name plate in the center of Yoongi’s desk.

“We’re currently not hiring.”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Jimin whines.

“You can have her back when I’m done.”

Jimin bites his lip in thought. “You’re not lying to me, are you, dear friend?” he asks. “You remember she called out to me first. I can, hmmm, satisfy her the best.”

Jimin’s fingers trail the curves of your body, and even in your slumber your body responds to his touch, writhing in the other demon’s lap. Yoongi holds you loosely, caressing your cheek as you whine softly. Jimin moans at the sight.

Yoongi laughs, “Concerned for her satisfaction, are you?”

Jimin holds up his palms in mock defeat, smirking. “Okay. Then, let me watch.”

---

A soft touch, wet and warm.

You’re too tired to open your eyes, not yet fully awake. Your limbs laid sprawled out, sinking into the thick covers under you, body too sluggish to move. You don’t want to wake up just yet, it feels too good. It feels real good.

You breathe in, turning your head into your pillow, leaning into the softness against your cheek, the warmth rolling over your stomach, the weight on your pelvis. It makes you gasp softly.

Yoongi smiles against your skin, mouth opening to taste you again.

Your body rocks against the soft sheets. You wish to moan, but you can’t. You wish to press your sex closer to the delicious sensation between your legs, but you can’t. If only you could wrap your legs around it, beg for more. But you can only lie sedated in your pleasure, getting wetter and wetter.

---

You wake up restless in your bed, needing to pee. Stumbling through your pitch black room, you search for the light switch, your drowsiness slipping quickly away and being replaced by an anxiousness when you can’t find it.

The darkness frightens you. But even scarier, what could be hiding, terrifies you.

Click.

You decide to keep the lights on when you return. 

You lie in bed thinking about him. Min Yoongi, when did he become such an obsession for you?

Maybe you need to find yourself a boyfriend, try dating, you stay home too much. You sigh, realizing how you have spent every other night in bed...fantasizing...instead. You’ve always been alone, but you’re starting to notice the loneliness, and it’s becoming suffocating. You need to go out, appreciate the couple hours of free time in the evening you had after working all day and afternoon. You’re coming to a realization your freedom shouldn't feel so...confining. The four walls of your room feel so close now. When did you become so lazy, so closed off and boring?

The sad realization leaves you even more unwilling to take the risk. Honestly, you should be grateful you have a roof over your head and a meal in your stomach and the luxury of being able to relax at home.

What about your dreams, ambitions?

Shh, you silence that annoying voice inside you. Those aren’t affordable! And take so much more energy than you have right now. But a nicer steak the next time you go shopping, a small joy, could still be an option.

Tomorrow, you’ll buy it tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow.

Tonight, you’ll take your mind off your troubles.

So you go back to your increasing obsession with your boss.

You breathe in, thinking of the cologne you smelled on him today. Those eyes that narrow when you do something wrong, so sexy, it almost makes you want to make him angry.

You wonder what goes on in his mind when he gets annoyed at you. If he wants to punish you, if he could get away with anything, what kind of punishment would it be? another voice inside you asks.

Bending you over his desk?

Maybe.

Would he find serenity in slaps across your ass? A belt welting your cheeks.

Your previously relaxed limbs seize.

Fuck, it hurts. It hurts so much. There is cold wood against your front and stinging down your back. You can’t help but cry out, leather digging into your wrists. 

What?

How?

“Shhhhh. Keep dreaming.”

The leather bands around your wrists hurt. You’re dreaming? Really? But this is too real.

But how else could you explain this situation? Your legs spread open, Yoongi standing in between them as he admires your aching backside.

He runs his fingers over the welts across your ass, making you hiss in pain.

“Let’s keep going, shall we?”

You stay quiet, unable to move, crying out when sharp pain comes back down across your ass.

“Oh, now don’t go regretting this now. You wanted this remember?”

Another slap makes you scream out in pain. You want to wake up now. ‘Wake up!’

“You chose this. You gave away your freedom just like that, dumb girl.”

Another hard smack with his belt has you reeling, legs tightening around Yoongi’s torso as you twist your body in agony. You sob, unable to handle anymore pain.

So Yoongi forces pleasure on you instead with two fingers inserted into your pussy, massaging the throbbing pain away. He slips in and out easily, the wetness that gushed out of you was a shameful reminder that you had been a willing captive. You moan weakly, body tired.

He easily builds up your orgasm, practiced fingers curling into your sex, stroking you inside and out until you’re close to bursting.

Yoongi stops, taking the moment to strike your ass with his messy palm. You shiver and cry out. “P-Please,” you stutter, pulling at your restraints.

Yoongi resumes his ministrations, “Please...Sir,” he reminds you.

“Please, Sir, let me come,” you gasp.

Yoongi turns you around, lifting your restrained hands over your head. He moves so fast you yelp at the sudden movement, only realizing after he lets go that the loud thud you heard was his letter opener sticking into wood and restraining you to his desk.

Your breathe becomes ragged as you lie tied down, body exposed to him. His thumb swipes over your clit, making you cry out his name. He sits, rubbing lazy circles into you, watching your body uncontrollably react. The buildup is achingly slow, steady, reliable, you know your orgasm is approaching and you are ever so close to release, yet Yoongi draws it out, until you feel the pressure in your ears, in you throat, in your feet, in your chest.

If this was another fantasy, it was the best one yet. Yoongi had fire in his eyes, electric movement, a demanding touch. You cum hard, crying out.

It wasn’t over even after your orgasm finished, Yoongi moves in closer, lips kissing your inner thigh. “Stay still, relax,” he smirks when your breath hitches.

You lose your breath all over again when his face rests in between your legs, burying his mouth into your sex. His tongue rolls over your folds, sucks on your abused nub. You clench your jaw and accept his pleasure. Your body pulses over and over again as Yoongi eats you out, your legs and hands going numb, but like Yoongi promised, you felt everything he was giving you, until exhaustion overcame you.

-

You wake up, still wet. You try not to feel ashamed, but your shame sticks to your core, underwear drenched and stretched as you slept.

Maybe it’s time to look for another job.

-

“Here’s your reports. And the notes for your next presentation. And-” you hand Yoongi a warm cup of coffee, “-for you. Black, half sugar.”

“Thank you, y/n,” Yoongi grunts, sipping the coffee. 

“Thank you, Sir,” you smile, beaming.

Yoongi smiles too. It’s slight, barely there, but you notice the small curl of his lips. “You did well,” he reaches for your waist, pulling you close. “My best girl.” 

You smile. “I-” you falter, “Have I…have we always been like this?” you think out loud.

“Does it matter? Doesn’t this feel right?” His hand caresses this inside of your thigh, disappearing under your skirt.

“S-Sir?!”

“Isn’t it nice working for me, why would you want to leave?”

You swallow, trying to sort out your surroundings, the happiness inside you shrinking away.

“Has that always been there?” you ask.

Yoongi glances at the corner of his office, pressing his fingers against your panties, rubbing on your clit through the sheer fabric. 

You stare at the relic that didn’t belong there, a golden piano. No, that wasn’t quite right, it was an organ.

Yoongi pulls your gaze back to him, caressing your check. “That poor little mind of yours...” he sighs, tutting. “Why don’t you forget about that and just enjoy yourself? You’re finally starting to be useful to me.” 

You can’t help but look for the organ from the corner of your eyes, a cold dripping feeling running down your spine.

Yoongi pulls you into his lap until you’re straddling him, your tight skirt digging into your thighs as you have to widen your legs around him. His mouth latches onto your neck to distract you, licking your clammy skin, sending shivers down you again.

His fingers curl inside your panties, moving the fabric to the side, so he can insert his digits fully. You hold his shoulders for stability, biting down moans.

“This is another dream.”

“Oh have you been dreaming about me?” he smirks.

“No!” you pant, “Yes...I’m dreaming.” His steady pressure moving inside you makes you dizzy, your jaw going slack as you lean into him. You can’t help but widen your legs, giving in to him in your lust. Yoongi takes the opportunity to kiss you, devouring your lips.

A knock on Yoongi’s office door stops his movements.

You stand up quickly, straightening your clothes, looking over at the corner where you could have sworn you had seen the large organ instrument.

“These came in for you, Sir.” A receptionist drops off three packages for him, excusing herself quietly before looking you over, her eyes narrowing at your appearance.

“You can leave now,” he says curtly and she huffs before leaving. He then turns back to you, swiping his fingers across his lips, tongue jutting out to roll over his wet glistening digits.

You pat down your skirt, legs wobbling. This wasn’t a dream?

“Come here.”

“Sir?” You look at the door, closed again, but unlocked.

“Come here, y/n.”

You take one hesitant step closer. Was this really happening? “W-We can’t,” you stutter out. “You can’t-”

“I can do whatever I want,” Yoongi laughs, “I’m the boss, remember? Now, come here.” He moves his chair further away, turning to fully face you, legs spread, a position you’ve only dreamed about.

You wipe the perspiration away from your brow and neck, looking down at his black Oxfords, until you’re finally courageous enough to look Yoongi in the eye, and what a mistake that was.

His eyes held a challenge that you couldn’t back away from. Yoongi was unbuckling his belt, undoing the button of his slacks.

He didn’t say come here this time, his pointer finger only had to draw one small movement to coax you to him.

He pulls you back to his lap easily, lets you clumsily touch him. This was really happening, and your boss seemed to be enjoying himself, acting so much nicer.

The smile he revealed, you believed to show kindness.

You smiled foolishly back, and he patted you head.

You hesitantly moved in for a kiss, pressing your lips softly to him, heart leaping when he opened his mouth for more, tasting his tongue.

The door opens again and you freeze, mortified at your predicament.

“I thought I told you to stay away.”

“You did, but look at her, she’s dripping with lust.”

With your back to the door, you can't see who is behind you, but his smooth sultry voice makes you shudder.

His words feels like daggers, each syllable chiseling away at you, fracturing what was left that held you together, revealing the truth underneath. It hit you like a splash of cold water, like waking up from a dream.

You look down at your hands, grasping tightly onto Yoongi’s shirt. “Father Park?”

“Hmm, not here,” he laughs, hands in his pockets, “Here you can call me Daddy,” he cocks his head, smiling.

Yoongi caresses your check, holding your jaw up when your head lulls to the side. You hear clicking, a belt buckle unfastening.

---

You wake up again in darkness.

That darkness never really left you, did it?

“Why are you doing this to me?” you call out.

The organ player reveals himself. He must have always been there too. “Because this is what you wanted,” he crawls over you, like he’s done countless times before, “what you begged for, prayed for, gave up everything for.”

“No, I didn’t want this,” you stutter out. Who was that woman you became? You barely recognized yourself in her...

Yet there were similarities, you suppose. If you had to recite a list of all your sins, you suppose your lists would look identical. If you had that kind of life, you suppose the path she took would have your footprints as well...

“Am I dead?” you look at your surroundings, soft sheets under you, fabric cascading over your body.

“Dead? No.” Yoongi chuckles. “You exist, y/n. Well, for us, death is just another existence.” Yoongi lies down next to you, arm over your stomach. You should push him away from you, but it’s cold and Yoongi is warmth, a fire lighting up the darkness.

“So I am dead...” you whisper.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Yoongi laughs. Humans can be quite amusing, he thinks. “What if I told you, you’re very much alive. See, the living realm is so much more fun, why would we keep you dead?”

“This place...”

“Welcome home,” Yoongi sighs, head snuggled to your shoulder.

“Is this hell?” you whisper, head heavy and limbs slow.

“No, not yet,” Yoongi smirks, “It’s just a dream. A place we can be alone together.”

“What is Jimin doing to my body?” you ask. You heart pounds, making you dizzy and anxious for the answer.

“Your body? Humans really are funny creatures...What is a body but a vessel to hold what’s really important, your soul, and who owns your soul, y/n?” he asks you. You stay quiet, resisting the answer, the consequence you’ll never escape from. “I will tell you something,” he whispers in your ear, “Your soul is here, with me. I hold it for the time being.” He places his hand over your heart, cupping your breast. “Feels just like it would in the physical world, doesn’t it?” he massages and tugs at the flesh. “Maybe it’s better, if you stay here with me?”

“Stay here, with you?” you repeat, trying to think of anything other than Yoongi’s slow torturous touch. You realize his touch feels familiar, skilled fingers like an old lover’s. You’ve betrayed yourself, over and over again.

You wonder if this is what you’ve become now, traitorous, self-gratifying, weak...did Father Park do this to you? Yoongi? Or was this...ache...void inside you always there, begging to be filled, to be touched?

And Yoongi was so excellent at making you feel whole, feel full of him and nothing else. He hugged you secure like a blanket, hands claiming you, soft and slow, with all the time in the world to make you his.

“If you decide you’d rather, let me have you, instead. Jimin is a master of desire. But we all are very adept at pleasure,” Yoongi smirks. “We can stay here for as long as you like. Your bones can turn to dust, but with me, here, your soul will remain. And you’ll be my Queen.” He kisses you, a slow drag of his lips pressing heavily onto yours making you feel even weaker.

The cascading fabric became tight around you, gold rings fastening it all in place to become a beautiful gown. You noticed Yoongi too wore gold, adorned on a black suit of armor fit for a King.

“Isn’t this what you dream of always?” he asks, a small smile pulling at his lips that made him look unthreatening. You knew better, but those tiny truths were being quieted by your King, who played his role so well, stuck his tongue inside your mouth and muted any lingering objections.

He places his hands on top of yours, stretching your arms upward, holding you in place, tongue taking away your voice. He lies his weight on top of you, kissing too sweetly the stretch of your neck, head nestled in the valley between your breasts, body sinking between your legs, mounting pleasure taking all your doubts away. “You don’t have to worry anymore,” Yoongi lies, “Give up. Give in.”

You try to keep your eyes open.

Yet your eyes flutter shut.

---

“Y/n.”

“Huh?” You turn your head in question.

Yoongi clears his throat, “As I was saying, due to the merger everyone is going to have to buckle down. We have to implement all new procedures, switch operating systems, upgrade the database... Are you listening!”

“Yes? Yes! Yes, Sir.” You sit up straighter, focusing on your boss.

“Expect to be here extra days, at least until everything settles in place.”

“Yes, Sir,” you nod, unsuccessfully trying not to frown.

“Also, since you will be managing twice as many people,” you wince at the thought, “You will have an assistant.”

On cue, there is a knock on Yoongi’s door.

“Hello,” you nod, standing up, forgetting you still had your binder in your lap, and papers scatter all over the floor. Yoongi curses as you quickly pick up your mess.

Your new assistant hands you the last stack of your remaining papers. You thank him, flustered at his kind gesture, your face heating up when you accidently bump his finger with your own.

“Hello,” he grins.

Yoongi lifts you up by the elbow, catching you off guard as you struggle to reorient yourself. “Nice to meet you, um...”

“Park Jimin.” Jimin licks his lips, beaming with excitement. “Hey, boss.”

You watch as the pair clasp hands, exchanging greetings. And a small part of you wonders, how it would feel

if their hands

were touching you instead.

---

So did you catch that y/n was actually reborn, did I fool you? But alas her soul is still theirs u.u

If this reaches 1k then I guess I will write a Mr. Kim version with the Kim trio, cause I’m not making myself suffer like this again for nothing lol :’D

#bts yandere #bts demon au #yandere bts #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #suga smut #suga x reader #bts one shot #bts scenarios #bts fantasy au