#i had to watch this without subs but it was surprisingly easy to follow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ficsforeren · 2 years

Text

Restrained

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: College AU, Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 10K

Summary: Caught having another girl sitting on his lap during a party, your boyfriend, Eren Jaeger tries to make it up to you by being your plaything for the night.

Warnings: rough and unprotected penetrative sex, bondage, daddy kink, reader masturbating while Eren watches, cunnilingus, blow job, hand job, recorded while performing oral sex, overstimulation, cum play, choking, dirty talk, use of marijuana, heavy swearing, dom!reader, bratty sub!eren

AN: Wrote this for my best girl, Lauren @ackersune! Sorry it took me so long to do your request, darling, but I hope you'll like this one (this is probably the filthiest sex scene I've ever written 🥵I'm so sorry)

Poster art by the most talented @rainbuniart (follow her on Twitter)

When you told him, “Eren, I don’t think I can hang out with you tonight. My assignment is due on Monday and I still have a lot of things I need to work on,” you felt awful, partially because a) you haven’t been properly spending time together with him in the last two weeks because of that so-called assignment, b) you’ve missed him terribly to the point you started noticing how many words in your textbook were pronounced like his name (barren, marron, heron), and c) he seemed surprisingly cool about it even when you had promised him that you’d go see a movie together with him tonight.

Usually, when you cancel your plans with him, he would be grousing and fuming about it for days like a child. A week ago, for example, he was throwing tantrums in the hallway of your dorm. “I can’t believe you blew me off like that,” he complained with the biggest pout on his face. “I was really looking forward to our date last night, you know. I was ready to buy you flowers, flavored condoms, and everything. And Toblerones, so it was a pretty serious thing for me.”

“But you hadn’t bought them, right?”

“Yeah, well, I was about to.” He rolled his eyes. “Babe, you’re missing the point!”

“I said I’m sorry.”

He averted his gaze, muttering. “Easy for you to say.”

“Eren, for the third time, it wasn’t like we had a reservation at some fancy restaurant or anything. We were just going to order some take-out and watch a movie together at your place.”

He was practically puffing out his cheeks at this point. “I was looking forward to what comes after that.”

“And what is that?”

Jutting out his lower lip even further, he grumbled under his breath. “Me bending you over the table and fucking you from behind.”

“Hmm, figured.”

It was both cute, sweet, and slightly disgusting at the same time but Eren had always been like this from day one and this playful side of him was what made him so endearing (although your roommate Annie would probably make a whole PowerPoint presentation to prove you that no, he’s not endearing, he’s the most gigantic imbecile the world has ever known). Honestly, it even made you feel special too, in some ways, as he never behaved like this in front of anyone else. This childish, more honest, and mischievous side of him was only for your eyes to see and your lips to kiss.

That was a week ago, and just this evening you did the same thing to him again.

You expected him to go, “Damn it, babe, you’ve canceled our plans for like, what, seven times already?” (It was only the second time but Eren could be a little dramatic sometimes). “And for the same reason?! I mean, I have papers to work on too, but I’d never ditch you like this!”

But that was in your head. Because in reality, he only went, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re not… upset about it?”

“Do you want me to be upset about it?”

“Err… No, but I thought you’d be—” You stopped yourself just in time. This was a good thing, right? You could work on your assignment without having your boyfriend seethe on the other side of your phone call. “Well, okay, then. I guess we can hang out tomorrow night? I can stay over at your place.”

“Cool.”

“Or you can stay at mine. Annie won’t be here.”

“Sure.”

You waited. You didn’t know what you wanted him to say but you waited. He wasn’t treating you coldly. His tone was light and casual, but for someone who usually spoke a minimum of ten words in a sentence, this was weird. When you could only hear silence from the other line, you restrained yourself from breaking into a heavy sigh. “So…” you tarried, a little bit unsettled with how uncharacteristically calm he was being. “What are your plans for the night, then?”

“Don’t know.”

“M-maybe you could go and meet up with the boys? It’s been a while since you hang out with them, right? I heard Jean is having a party tonight at his house.”

“You want me to go to the party?”

Honestly? You didn’t. Not if he was going there without you. “Sure,” you added a fake smile, even when you knew he couldn’t see it. “I feel really bad about canceling our plans. Go have a boys' night out or something—if that’s even a thing. I’m sure you’ll have fun.”

There was a pause. Somewhere in your mind, you could tell he was vexed about it but when you apologized again, he simply said, “Okay,” which somehow made him sound like he was not okay with it, but at the same time, you couldn’t force him to say what he truly felt if he didn’t want to. The last time you forced him to speak his thoughts, he snapped at you. He apologized right away but you sure as hell didn’t want to repeat that mistake.

“What do, uhh, boys even do during a boys' night out?” You chuckled dryly.

“We just look at some porn and jerk each other off, I guess,” Eren answered and you chortled, but he wasn’t laughing with you and yours felt strained. After another few failed attempts at breaking the tension, you decided to end the call. “Well, I gotta return to my papers. Promise me you’ll have fun tonight, okay?”

“Okay.”

His okay started to grow a little bit worrying and irritating in your ears. “Bye, Rennie.”

“Bye, babe.”

“I miss yo—” Eren cut off the call before you could finish your line, leaving you staring at your phone screen with knitted eyebrows. Your stomach swirled, your heart lying heavily inside your chest. You tossed your phone back to the desk and you sighed. He’s definitely upset.

That was around five hours ago, and during those five hours, you could barely concentrate on your work. You kept thinking about him, kept trying to figure out whether his okay was just a facade to make you feel okay, though, in the end, it just only made you feel ten times worse. You only managed to write two more pages for your thesis and they were nowhere near perfect. Shutting down your MacBook, you sigh, I’m gonna have to revise them again later.

Eren is at the party. You can tell because Armin just posted a new story on his Instagram account and you could see your boyfriend sitting on the edge of the table with his eyes filled with boredom, sipping beer from his red plastic cup. Armin, Marco, and Frans are shouting random things at the camera, slurring their words because unlike Eren who can handle his alcohol pretty well, they’re already smashed after their fourth cup. He’s just chilling in the background, his legs dangling a few inches off the floor. When Armin shouted at him to say hi, he just raised his middle finger in the air and flashed it to the camera.

It’s obvious that he’s not enjoying the party as he should. And you know that he would’ve had much more fun if you were there. Can’t stand it any longer, you decide to take a quick shower, put some light make-up on and dress yourself in your favorite top and jeans. You don’t send him a text to let him know that you’re going to Jean’s party, thinking that it would be better to just show up and surprise your boyfriend with a kiss.

Just about an hour later, you’re walking past Jean’s front door, welcomed by the scent of sweat mixed with booze, cigarettes, with a splash of something that will definitely give you a headache tomorrow morning. The music is loud, too loud, but people are dancing to it with laughs and giggles like their ears aren’t about to burst in any given seconds.

You break past the crowds, moving from one couple to another, grimacing at the sight of them practically fucking on the dance floor. You’re getting dizzy, your eyes trying to scan the room under the flickering party lights, your body keeps being pushed here and there by people who spilled their drinks all over the carpet. You’re about to stop and take a breather when you see someone sporting his usual jacket and man-bun, sitting on a couch with his legs spread.

And a half-naked girl sitting on top of his lap.

Your heart plummets to your stomach, shriveling at the sight. Historia Reiss, you recall her name, one of the most popular girls in your campus, dressed in nothing but a skimpy silk tank top and a short skirt that rides up her thighs. Her backside is practically exposed, showcasing porcelain-like milky skin. She’s sitting on one of his thighs, her arm naturally winding around your boyfriend’s shoulders for support, tossing her luscious hair back to showcase her cleavage. Her beauty is stunning, to the point that you would’ve mistaken her as a model if it wasn’t because of her short height.

Eren, with the silver piercing on his ear glinting under the spectrum of light, has his eyes barely opened when she twirls her manicured fingers around his key-shaped pendant—fingers that, you’re sure, are just itching to rake their way down his back later tonight. He has a joint resting in one hand, the scent of marijuana filling the air. He brings the roll up to his lips, taking another long huff before he draws it away. The petite girl curls her fingers around his wrist and drags his hand closer, taking a drag from his joint, maintaining eye contact as she does it. Eren watches with hazy eyes, entranced by the way she effortlessly does it, blowing out air with her head thrown back so he can marvel at the column of her throat. When she giggles, a little smile breaks upon his lips. “Good?” He asks.

“Oh, the best,” she sighs, flirtatious and sensual. “Do it again.” You can somehow make out the words she said and Eren brings the joint closer to her lips but she shakes her head. “You know what I mean.”

When realization washes over him, it washes over you too. And when he draws his joint to his lips, sucking a breath, that does it.

You turn around on your heels; anger and jealousy scratching their claws against your insides, making you feel nauseous and disgusted at the sight that you have no other choice but to leave. As you make your way out, your head’s too shrouded by the thoughts of him that you can barely pay attention to anything else, you bump against a girl. She shouts at you, loud enough for Eren—who’s sitting just a couple of meters away from where you’re standing—to hear. He catches sight of you before you leave, eyes widening in surprise before he pushes Historia off his lap. Ignoring her protest, he jumps back to his feet, chasing after you.

You can hear your name being called repeatedly, but you play deaf. It’s such a huge fucking mistake coming over here and you know you’re going to feel even much worse if you stay even a minute longer. But when Eren catches your wrist, his fingers firm and strong around you, what else can you do?

“Baby,” he says, a little out of breath but other than that, nothing else seems unusual. “I didn’t realize you came. You should’ve let me know—”

“So you can do what?” You whirl around, facing him with a scowl. “So you could be more secretive? Take her to the bedroom and fuck her behind my back?” A voice in your head tells you that you're just being dramatic. It’s very unlikely for him to cheat on you, is it? But after working yourself for days trying to finish your thesis, all this exasperation building inside, it’s hard for you to not be dramatic.

“What?” He’s not offended, not insulted by the tone you’re using. He’s just genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

You open your mouth, ready to shout at him with this anger building up inside but you don’t want to cause a scene. It’s just not worth it. You’re not going to make your life look like a sappy scene from a teen drama more than it already does. So, instead of explaining, you simply mutter, “I’m going home,” as you turn around and walk away. You snatch your phone from your pocket, ready to call for a cab to pick you up when he tries to steal your attention back.

“Let me take you then,” he says, moving to stand before you, blocking your path. “I’m about to head back to the dorm too.”

“I’m just gonna take a cab.”

“Babe, seriously, what the hell is going on?” He almost whines in frustration, acting like he didn’t just have a girl sitting on his lap with her hands on his body, about to do the same thing he did once with you when he took you to your first frat party. “Talk to me, please.”

You can’t. Not now. But Eren gathers your face in his hands, lifting it so he can lock your gazes. “Baby,” he turns gentler, his breath tastes like alcohol and weed. “Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”

Whatever I did, I’m sorry? You repeat with disgust in your head. Never had an apology sounded so infuriating in your ears before. You take a hold of his wrist, leaning away from his touch. And with a quiver in your voice, coming from uncontainable rage instead of sadness, you tell him:

“Stay away from me.”

***

You’re being immature, you know that. You don’t like him when he gives you a silent treatment but you’re doing the same thing to him now. For three days you’ve been ignoring his calls. You haven’t read his texts. You pretend like you don’t hear him when he shouts your name in the crowd. You try to avoid him as best as you can in the hallways. Hell, you even ask Annie to tell him that you’re not in the dorm even when you’re curling up on your bed. But of course, you can’t avoid him forever.

When he goes all the way to pick you up after your study session with friends ended, asking you to grab some coffee together, you feel bad and unfair. You wish you could talk to him, but every time you see his face, you just remember the way Historia was perched so casually on his lap as if they had done that a million times before. Did they use to date? Or do they just casually hook up at parties? God, you don’t even want to start thinking about that.

“Thank you,” you tell him with a forced smile. “But I’m tired. I’m just gonna go back to my dorm and get some sleep.”

Eren is starting to lose his patience, you can tell, but he tries his best not to display any sentiment on his face. “I’m walking you there.”

“Eren—”

“I insist.”

The pressure in his voice makes you sigh, and you let him do what he wants. It feels like you’re walking ten feet apart from each other even when your knuckles almost brush. Eren grinds his jaw, fighting the chaos of his emotions. He doesn’t speak a word and neither do you. You thought it would make you feel relieved, but it didn’t. You only feel worse.

“Is Annie here?” he asks when you’re rummaging your bag to find your key.

“No. She’s with Armin.”

“Then we should talk.”

Defeated, you let out a weary sigh. “Fine.” You push your door open and let him in.

He walks in first, turning around to face you. He looks handsome today, more so than usual as he had a presentation to do earlier this afternoon. He’s wearing all black from head to toe. His button-down shirt has three of his top buttons unfastened, showcasing a glimpse of sun-kissed skin and his toned chest. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the veins in his arms protuberant. His dark jeans hug his thighs perfectly, accentuating his long legs. Eren wears his hair loose, the ends of his long silky strands brushing against his shoulders.

The second you close the door behind you, he cuts to the chase. “Okay, this is starting to drive me crazy, so I’m gonna ask you this and you’re gonna stop doing whatever it is you’re doing right now and talk to me. Can we do that, please?”

You drag your eyes away from him, leaning your back against the front door.

“What did I do wrong?” he questions, already turning restive when you don’t utter a word. “I know you’re pissed at me but I’ve been spending the last three days trying to rewind everything that happened between us and I still don’t know what the hell is going on.”

God, give me patience. “I saw you at the party,” you utter with a blank face. “With a girl.”

“With a girl?” He knits his eyebrows together. “What do you mean with a girl? I went there alone.”

That’s it. He can play dumb as much as he wants but you’re not having it. “Historia Reiss, you asshole!”

For a moment, his furrow turns deeper, scrutinizing you with confusion in his eyes, but then—

He laughs.

For some reason, Eren is laughing like a fucking child, full of mirth, guffawing even. And he continues to do so even when you’re throwing ice daggers with your eyes.

“What is so funny?” You don’t raise your voice, you just let your anger speak through your tone.

“Nothing, it’s just—” He takes a deep breath, hoping it would stop him from cackling like a mad man. His body may stop shaking from laughter, but the little smile on his lips remains and it irks you just as much. “You’re being so ridiculous right now.”

“Excuse me?” A muscle in your jaw twitches, just like the vein that almost pops on your forehead. “I’m being ridiculous?”

“Yes,” he almost laughs again, but thankfully—and fortunately for him—he manages to stop himself at the last second. “It’s ridiculous that you’re jealous of her. She’s gay, babe.” His grin turns wider when he notices you blinking in surprise. “She’s not into boys.”

Okay, what? If it’s true, then you’re absolutely ashamed of yourself for jumping to a conclusion like that. But then again— “She doesn’t look like that when you had your face glued to her neck the other night.”

“I was just talking to her. The music was loud—”

“Oh, yeah, right.”

He doesn’t like it when you cut him off, but he doesn’t comment on it. “Fine. You don’t believe me?” He sticks his hand inside the back pocket of his jeans, snatching his phone. “Here, you can look at my texts.”

You snort, throwing your face to the side. “I don’t want to read your texts.”

He takes a few strides forward, closing the gap between you. He shows you his phone screen, his voice turning gentle. “Just read them.”

Still scowling at him, you let out a harsh breath, taking the phone away from his fingers. You’re looking at his Discord chats, where he’s been exchanging direct messages with the same blond girl under the username RoyalQueen_Historia. Your eyes immediately move from one text to another, your thumb sliding up the screen to scroll down to his earlier messages.

Eren, oh my God, Historia said in her text. Those tips you gave me at the party the other day? THEY WORKED!

“Tips?” You ask with a frown. “You gave her some tips?”

Oblivious to your thoughts, he cheekily grins. “I did.”

“About what?”

“Oral sex.”

“You taught her how to suck a dick?” Naturally, your mind starts inventing scenarios of Eren telling Historia to go down on her knees, his hand tugging at the roots of her hair as he slides his cock in and out of her mouth, telling her to do this and that to maximize his pleasure. You don’t feel like reading his chats anymore, but Eren keeps his haughty smirk displayed on his face.

“Go on,” he suggests. Fear is absent in his eyes. “Read some more and you’ll find out.”

With your mouth set in a hard line, you do as you’re told, only to find yourself turning flustered for the next three seconds.

They were talking about her performing cunnilingus on her girlfriend, Ymir.

Holy shit, Eren, she went INSANE when I went down on her last night. No wonder your girlfriend fucking loves you. I can’t wait to try your other tips later today. You’re a lifesaver.

You’re stupefied, clutching on his phone with both hands as you read her last text.

“Yeah, see?” He simpers. “She’s gay.”

Now that you look at it—your thumb tapping on her profile to take a closer look at her display picture—you can see a photo of her sharing a kiss with a girl who has freckles on her cheeks. Their lips as they touch are noticeably curving up into smiles.

Oh, wow, okay, she really is a lesbian. And so, you feel relieved, but only for a few seconds before you realize something.

Fuck.

With a little gulp, you look up at him. Eren’s puckish grin has returned, his chin tilting up pompously. “I mean, I could be mean and make fun of you about this,” he sneers, taking his phone away and tossing it to your bed. “But since I’m a good boyfriend, I won’t do it.”

You exhale heavily through your nose. It's stupid. This is stupid. You’re stupid. You know you should say sorry but somehow your dignity won’t let you.

“Wait, what did you say?” Eren inclines his face to the side, his hand cupping his ear as if to hear you better when you haven’t said a single word. “You said you’re sorry? Aww, baby, you don’t have to. I know you didn’t mean what you said.”

You almost snarl at him. His childish side has returned and he’s as annoying as ever. “I will apologize for this, yes,” you say through gritted teeth. “But I still have my reasons to be mad at you.”

His smile slips. “What do you mean?”

God, you can’t believe you have to explain this to him but your boyfriend can be so laid-back and insensitive sometimes. “Okay, let’s imagine for a sec. You know Floch is gay, right? Now, imagine me sitting on his lap at a party, my hand around his shoulders, sharing joints. Asking him to fucking blew smoke into my mouth. How would you feel about it?”

There’s no amusement on his face. If anything, a scowl starts to form. “Historia and I did not do that.”

“Eren, I saw her telling you to do it.”

“Did you see me doing it?”

You loosen up your scarf. Somehow, it’s starting to feel a bit hot. “Well… No.”

“Yeah, cause you ran off after that.” He rolls his eyes. “Babe, she wasn’t asking me to blow smoke into her mouth. She wanted to see me do my party trick.”

“What party trick?”

“Making smoke rings with my mouth,” he admits rather bashfully as if he knew just how pathetic it sounded. “Look, Historia and I have been friends since kindergarten, okay? We do stupid shits together.”

“How come I’ve never seen you before with her, then?”

“Because I’d rather spend my time with you!” He almost shouts, frustrated. “And you keep blowing me off!”

His sudden burst startles you. “I wasn’t blowing you off.”

“I know. I know you had some stuff to do but—” He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Look,” he tries again, both his tone and his gaze are much softer this time. “I don’t want us to fight.”

Even if you try to be tough, you can’t help but melt a little from his words. Tucking your chin, you mumble, “I don’t want us to fight either.”

There are a few seconds that pass by with both of you staying reticent. Then Eren takes the final step, your bodies are mere inches away from one another. He lays one hand on the door, right beside your head. His other one finds your chin, angling your face upward. Your eyes peer into his viridian ones, his lips only a breath away when he whispers, “Do you miss me?”

You do. You missed him every second when he wasn’t here. You missed him even when you fought. You miss him even more now as he is so close and yet feels so far. “I do,” you breathe out. His smile is delicate when he hears your words and he presses your temples together. The fingers that were trapping your chin, have now moved to frame your jaw, lightly brushing your cheekbone before he tucks your hair behind your ear.

“Tell me how much?” He asks, tilting his head slightly to the side like a little boy.

You pout. “Are you messing with me?”

“No,” he chuckles once. “I just want to hear you say the words. It’s been a while since you told me you missed me. Or loved me.”

There’s a hint of shyness in his voice, and you realize that he’s not teasing you. He genuinely misses the way you sound when you tell him I miss you. Misses the way your lips move when you speak the words I love you. Misses the way your gaze turns affectionate when he whispers the words back followed by your name.

Eren really, really misses you, probably more than you miss him.

And to be fair, no matter what excuses you have, you did blow him off. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, standing on your toes to meet his lips in a brief kiss. “For not spending time with you. And for… doubting you like this.”

“No, like you said, you had your reasons.” A tender smile graces his lips. “I mean, right now, I’m still upset over the thought of you sitting on that dumbass Ken doll’s lap.”

You giggle. “You’re ridiculous.”

“God, how much I’ve missed hearing you laugh like this.” He brushes his lips against your forehead, making you smile as you feel your heart warm up. “How about I make it up to you?”

“I’m not gonna have sex with you, if that’s what you’re offering,” you reply, to both of your dismay, really.

“Why not?”

“‘Cause Annie can come back here any second.”

“We’ll tell her to wait outside.” He lowers his head, his nose skimming against the skin of your neck. “I haven’t touched you in two weeks, baby. I need to feel you again.” He moves to your ear, clamping his lips around your lobe. “Need to feel you around me.” The way his breath caresses your skin makes you shiver. “Need to feel how tight you are.”

And he’s back to being the tantalizing demon that he is, speaking breathily against your ear because he knows just how sexy he sounds when he does it. That little mmm when he nibbles on your shell isn’t helping either.

You lay a hand on his chest, pushing him away. “Jesus, you can’t just say stuff like that.”

He snickers, tapping his index finger against your nose. “You seem to enjoy it.”

“Oh, shut up.” You swat his hand away. “What can you offer me anyway?”

“Hmm…” He pretends to ruminate but the naughtiness in his eyes never falters. Then, his hand finds his belt, fingers toying with the strap before he unclasps it. “How about we use this?”

“You want to tie me up?” You almost groan. “You’re kidding, right? The last time you did that to me, I ended up with bruises all over my body, so, no. As great as it was, I’m too tired to do it again. And I have a presentation to do tomorrow. I don’t want my hickeys stealing the spotlight again, thank you very much.”

“Well, maybe it’s time for you to get your revenge.” As you frown, his smirk turns wider. He unbuttons his shirt all the way down, keeping his eyes on you as he does it. You try to keep a straight face as your eyes wander to his sculpted chest, the ridges of his abdomens are just as ravishing as the last time you saw them.

“What do you mean?”

“I want you to tie me up.”

Okay, so obviously you did not see that coming. Eren has always been the dominant one in bed, sometimes even going too overboard with his fingers wrapped around your neck and his teeth sinking into your shoulder. You weren’t kidding when you said the last time he bound your hands together in a motel room, he left your body with bruises, painted by his lips and teeth, formed by how tightly he gripped onto your hips as he took you from behind.

So, hearing him say the words tie me up almost feels surreal.

This is probably just a trick, you snort. “You’re just gonna complain halfway.”

“Well, true, I do like tying you up better,” he snickers. “Why don’t we make it a game, then? If you can make me beg for you to release my hands, I’ll do your assignments for a week.”

It’s tempting. Very tempting, as he is one of the smartest kids on your campus even when he’s only been giving a minimum effort so far. “And what if I can’t?”

“Well…” Placing both hands on the wall, each one on each side of your head, Eren presses his hips against yours, grinding as if you were two strangers losing themselves over a drink in a nightclub. Your heart throbs when you feel the tent in his pants. It’s been a while since you both were this intimate. You can feel his breath caressing your cheek, the intoxicating scent of his bergamot perfume making your head swirl. “We’re gonna go on a trip this weekend.” He lazily drags his fingertips from your cheekbones to your jaw. “I’ll book a nice hotel for two days.”

He’s now tracing over the pulsating vein in your neck, making you swallow your breath. “A-and then what?”

“I’m not gonna let you fucking leave, that’s for sure.” He bites his lower lip, his eyes turning half-lidded, glazed with lust. “And I won’t just tie you up, baby.” His hand cups the front of your throat, giving you a light squeeze just for a taste. His lips are brushing against your ear, his low moan reverberating when he plants a wet kiss on the spot below it. “Won’t stop even if you beg me either.” He chuckles in satisfaction when he feels you shivering a little underneath his touch. “I’m gonna ruin you, fuck you until you cry. I want to fuck you until you can't walk or talk, or fucking see straight. I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you'll feel like you can’t breathe.” He separates his mouth to suck hard on the side of your neck, teeth grinding against it until a bruise blooms beautifully on your skin. “I’ll keep fucking you until you pass out on my bed, voice hoarse from screaming out my name. I’m gonna use you, baby girl, every inch of you as I please.”

His words are magic spells and it’s frightening how easily you succumb to him when he’s like this. If he wants it, Eren can tug on your strings like a marionette. He can make you say the words he wants to hear, make you arch your back with his thrust, bend you over and fold your body in half as if you’re his sex doll.

“But,” he coos, taking a step away to let you breathe. “I won’t do that just yet. Like I said, I’m gonna make it up to you.”

Eren unties his belt, looping the end once through the buckle, stopping midway, before looping back, forming a figure 8. Then he places his wrists in each loop, grabbing the end of the belt with his teeth and tugging tightly until each loop is snug around his wrists. He releases the belt from his lips, mischief clouding his features, the impishness of his smirk surpasses the devil himself. “I’m all yours for the night, baby.” He presents his wrists to you in surrender. “Mark me up and use me as you will.”

You never considered yourself as a shy person, though you did have a few moments of weakness where his words got to your head and burned your cheeks with them. But you’re not easily flustered, always confident with your body. And when you have a lover telling you how pretty you are every time you get together, his lips appreciating every inch of your skin like you’re a piece of art, there’s no reason for you to feel insecure.

But tonight… Tonight, you’re more brazen than ever.

“Hmm, is that so?” Your smirk matches his when you step forward and slant your lips together. It starts light as you’re both still smiling into the kiss, but once they falter, tongues dart out to dance in the gap between your mouths before you plunge yours inside his hot cavern. Eren groans against the kiss, realizing that it’s not the taste of your lip gloss that he misses, it’s the taste of your mouth. Your hands are sliding up his chest, pushing down the fabric off his shirt just a little until they hang loose on his shoulders.

He grunts when he feels your nails clawing against his skin, raking them down from his collarbone to the middle of his stomach until he’s all marred with red lines. Your hands drift down to his belt, unfastening it from around his wrists. He breaks the kiss, asking you with a questioning brow. “You’re not gonna tie me up?”

You don’t answer him, only winding one arm around his neck, pulling him down to you to share yet another kiss. Eren guides you toward the bed, his body pushing forward until the back of your knee knocks against your bed. You know he wants you to lie down and spread your legs for him, but you don’t give him the satisfaction. You have his belt in one hand, your lips mapping their way down from his throat to the middle of his chest before you drive him away.

“On your knees.”

There’s something in your tone—reek with confidence and superiority—that staggers him for the first two seconds. “What?”

“You want to make it up to me, right?” You remind him with a sultry heat in your eyes. “Kneel.”

He doesn’t know what you’re planning to do just yet, but he obeys because whatever it is you have in your head, he knows he’ll love it.

Eren goes down to his knees, waiting with a little smirk on his face as you circle him. “You can still touch me if I tie you up that way, so…:” You bind his hands together behind his back, tightening his belt around his wrists and tugging on it until you witness him flinching. “Too tight, Sweetheart?” You murmur in a low seductive voice that has his body shuddering, but Eren simply chuckles.

“Not tight enough—” The cockiness in his voice vanishes at once when he feels you pulling again, the leather edges of his belt are now digging torturously into his skin. He refrains himself from hissing in pain.

“There, there.” You give him a cute peck on the top of his head before you move to stand before him once again. “Bear with me, okay, Rennie? It will only be a little while.” But once a thought fleets through your head, a Cheshire Cat grin paints your lips. “Well, actually, it depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“How fast you make me cum.”

That provocative look in your eyes, the way you’re staring down at him like you’re his queen and he’s nothing but your slave, it touches him on a level that makes breathing damn near impossible. But you haven’t even started yet.

You undress in front of him, peeling your clothes one by one as if you had all the time in the world but Eren feels like his time is running out. The more skin you expose to his eyes, the more he grows impatient, his blood pressure rising to dangerous proportions. Once you’ve left in nothing but your lingerie, you take a seat on the edge of your bed, spreading your legs wide apart. His eyes traverse down your body, watching you slide two fingers above your clothed heat.

“Now, sit back and watch,” you croon with your chin tilted up, your fingers pushing your panties to the side. You spread open your lips, letting him catch a glimpse of your protruding clit. “I’m gonna remind you just how much you miss me.”

***

“God, baby…” Eren doesn’t mean his words to slip out in a form of a breathy sigh that’s sketched with nothing but yearning. But now that they've departed from his lips, he just wishes you don’t hear them. He doesn't want you to know just how hopeless he is right now. But who is he kidding, really? Even if you didn’t catch his words, his face is filled with that intense desire that threatens his last vestige of control. He needs you and it shows.

But of course, you did. You heard him well. And you love it.

Eren is losing his mind.

He’s still kneeling on the floor, keeping his mouth shut as he observes you with both eyes wide open, just as he's ordered to. He may look obedient right now, but you know the second you unbind him, he’s going to use his belt on you like last time. The bed is high enough for his mouth to pleasure you with ease in that position, but you keep your distance. You’re not going to let him touch you, not yet.

Now that your lingerie has been cast aside, the sight of your beautiful, naked body evokes a myriad of sinful thoughts and bombard him with primal hunger. You’ve never done this before, never gone all the way seducing him like a devil luring an angel to fall from heaven. But Eren wants to fall, doesn’t he? He’s already falling.

The belt around his wrists feels like it’s sinking a millimeter lower into his skin every time he tries to break free. The pain reminds him to stay put, but it doesn’t wash away his craving. If anything, it just makes his blood boil, wanting to tear you apart.

Because look at you. Sitting with your legs wide open at the edge of your bed, your bottom lip tucked irresistibly between your teeth, your heavy gaze consuming him. You have one hand pressed against the sheets behind you, propping you up as you draw obscene circles on your clit. Keeping your eyes locked together, you probe your digits against your entrance, just taking a few of your juices before you raise them to your lips. Eren’s throat feels parched when he watches you push your fingers inside, wishing you were thrusting them inside his mouth instead. Hollowing your cheeks around them, you suck and lap every bit of your taste off your fingers. Now that they're lubricated with enough saliva, you bring them back to your heat.

When he asked you to tie him up, Eren didn’t think you were going to be such a fucking tease. He expected you to go down on him, to bounce on his lap as you fuck yourself and cum on his cock. He didn’t plan to go through this torture, as exhilarating as it is.

He pitches his voice low. “Baby.”

Your confidence transforms your face, making you look ten times more enchanting. Even with two of your fingers scissoring deep inside you, you show no hint of shyness. You’re a succubus and he is your prey, trapped under your spell and dazed from your charm. “Hmm?” Your voice is dripping with allure, melodious when you speak. “What is it, Rennie?” You bring your free hand to your chest, squeezing your left mound. You’re performing a show, maintaining eye contact before he locks his gaze at the way you’re pumping your fingers inside you. “Like what you see?”

So much, it knocks all senses away from his head. Eren swears under his breath, his eyes turning half-lidded, brimming with lust. “You’re fucking beautiful.”

“I know.” The naughtiness in your voice makes his cock twitch inside his jeans.

It’s like you were possessed. The devil’s inside you, controlling you. You’re overflowing with confidence, your expression is obscene and Eren would think about you for months after this with his hand around his cock, picturing this exact face of yours behind his lids as he thrust into his fist.

“Let me touch you,” he says, not yet pleading but close. “I want to make you cum.”

“Hmm, I don’t know about that,” you interrupt yourself with a moan, throwing your head back as you lift your hips slightly in the air, rocking yourself against your fingers. He feels like he's watching the filthiest porn, only this time, he's not allowed to enjoy it. “You can’t touch me with your hands like that, can you? Let alone make me cum.”

“Is that a challenge?” It astonishes you that he still has the strength to curve up his lips into a smirk. “Why don’t you be a good girl and beg Daddy to fuck you nicely with his tongue?”

You snort. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“What, too scared?” His smile turns coquettish. “The last time I used my mouth on you, you came in, like, what, five minutes? It was almost embarrassing, Sweetheart.”

You almost roll your eyes. It seems like you need to work a lot harder to break him apart.

But the truth is, that was his last straw on trying to act cocky. And seeing you unfazed by his words only frustrates him even more. The second you return to ignoring him, touching yourself as you please, Eren realizes that he’s been dancing on the palm of your hands from the start. He knows you want him to lose the bet, and God, he’s never wanted to lose this much in his life, which is strange as he’s a very competitive person to begin with. But doing your assignments for a week? When he already has his own to deal with? And keeping up with your constant mockery? Really?

“Eren, look.” With one hand hooked around your thigh to keep your legs as far apart as you can, you retract your fingers away from your entrance only to spread your lower lips. “Can you see it?”

His heart elevates to his throat and he tries to swallow it back with a big gulp. He can see it. Can see your slick dripping out of your heat, can see your hole twitching as you clench and unclench your walls around nothing. “It’s missing your cock, baby,” you say.

A whine almost escapes him. “Fuck, just come here and ride me, baby.” He doesn’t care if he sounds desperate. He is desperate. “I want you—I need you so bad.”

Now, that’s more like it, you think gleefully to yourself. “Oh, you do? I didn’t notice that.”

Every tease comes out so effortlessly that it vexes him even more. His jeans are tight, so tight especially when his member is throbbing with every thrust of your fingers inside your cunt. He wants nothing more than to have your hands working on his zipper, breaking him free out of his confinement only for you to take it inside your mouth.

You can laugh all you want, but your patience has its own limit too. He’s not the only one who misses how good it feels when your bodies are connected, especially when you've been separated this long. “Fine,” you huff, sliding your fingers out of you. They're soaked, glistening under the fluorescent light. Stepping down the bed and kneeling in front of him to match his line of vision, you smear your juices on his face by dragging your fingers from his jaw to his cheek before you slip them past his lips. “Come on,” you taunt him. “Clean them up.”

Releasing a heavy breath through his nose, Eren sucks on your fingers, moaning lowly on your taste. You slide them out, letting him swirl his tongue around your tips before you push them back in. “Good boy.” Your velvety voice offers no comfort, only causing his impatience to race through him. You shift your hand down to his jeans, cupping his bulge. He almost whimpers at the sensation. Fuck, he’s so aroused it’s not even funny that the slightest of your touch feels like a fucking blessing to him.

“Oh my,” you fake a gasp. “Eren, you’re so hard down here. You should’ve let me know.”

“I’m gonna make you pay for this,” he hisses back but the second you stroke him again, the venom on his tone turns pathetic. "Baby—"

“Aaw,” you pout, batting your eyelashes cutely at his whine. “Didn’t you say that this was my chance to get my revenge?”

Eren’s entire brain has shut down. With a harsh grunt, he snaps, “Damn it, enough with the teasing. You can’t keep—”

You slap a palm over his mouth, leaving him stunned. "I can." His eyes largen, surprised at the way your honeyed voice suddenly turns perilous. “Keep running your mouth like that and I’m not gonna let you cum,” you utter, ending the pressure in your sentence with a conceited smile. “You got that, baby?”

Eren watches you without a word when you unfasten your hair tie from your wrist, still too shocked to form one. “As much as I love seeing you with your hair down.” You reach forward to gather his strands in your hands, tying his luscious locks up in a messy bun. “I don’t want it to get in the way.”

Of what? He wonders, but he gets his answer the second you rise back to your feet. Your cunt is just a few inches away from his face. All he has to do to get a sliver of your taste is tilt his head up slightly and dart out his tongue. “You want me to sit on your cock?” You place your hand at the back of his skull, guiding him forward. “You better warm me up.”

His stomach flips at your words—no, your command. You’ve never been this controlling, never been this demanding and dominating and he thought he would hate it, as it was supposed to be his role to play, but now that he finds himself quite literally kneeling and begging for you to fuck him, he realizes that there’s only one thing that courses through his veins.

Thrill.

It feels humiliating at first when his realization dawns on him. Am I a fucking masochist? He shouts internally but he’ll never let you know his thoughts. It’s not just your words that electrified him, it’s the way you said them. God, you look like a goddess right now. And it's only right for him to worship you.

He starts by placing a kiss on your clit, waiting for your reaction but you give him none. He parts his lips, the sweet, tight-lipped kiss is now replaced by a wet, open-mouthed one. “Stick out your tongue,” you say, grabbing a handful of his bun, and he follows. You grind on it, rubbing your heat against his face, the tip of his nose grazing your clit one second and your pelvis on the next one. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Eren’s emerald eyes move to yours, drooping as he feels your wetness coating his tongue. He can’t speak, you don’t give him the chance to. For a moment, you continue moving your hips, driving yourself to the edge and driving him to the brink of his sanity. He’s making a mess—well, you both are. His saliva is dripping down his chin, mixed with your juices.

When you release him to let him catch his breath, Eren finally surrenders. “Untie me.”

“Oh?” Your smirk returns instantly. “You want me to release your hands?”

“Yes,” he snarls through gritted teeth.

“Hmm, let me think about it for a sec.” You bend down, your face hovering right above his as you gather him in your hands. “No.”

His jaw drops, baffled. “What?! I thought we've agreed that you'd release me if I said the words—”

“Yes, but you’re good with your tongue, aren’t you?” Eren’s eyes glint, aroused by the degrading look on your face. “Can make me cum in five minutes, you said? Well, here you go.” You push his head back toward you again, causing him to let out a sharp breath when his nose is pushing against your pelvis. “Better start working on your magic before I lose my patience.”

Your hand is on his head, fingers fisting his strands and messing up his bun. He groans at the way you’re tugging on his roots, his sound muffled by your skin. Sighing in content, you raise one leg in the air and place your foot on the bed so he can reach more of your skin.

“Play with my clit,” you tell him. You know he doesn’t need your guide. You’re just saying the words because you know how much it will drive him insane.

Eren, given no other choice, follows your every word. He has your sensitive nub pressing against his tongue as he clamps his mouth fully on your heat. He sucks on your clit, making you hiss in pleasure. “Again,” you gasp, “Do it again. Feels so good, Ren.”

After being mocked consistently, your praise sparks fire in the pit of his stomach. He’s never seen this side of you before—this beautiful woman in front of him, begging for his touch but at the same time, owning every control over him.

“I want to make you fucking squirt on my face,” he says, dragging his lips to your inner thigh, biting and suckling hard on the soft skin until it’s bruised before he returns to lap on your juices. “Untie me and I’ll do it within seconds with my fingers.”

“Make me cum with your mouth first,” you taunt in return. “Then you can touch me.”

The way he almost growls when he says his next words light your skin on fire. “Spread that fucking cunt wider then.”

“Sure,” you say, but to his surprise, you plop down to the bed, parting your legs to showcase your swollen clit. He grins, it’s easier to eat you out like this, as he doesn’t have to keep his face toward the ceiling. But when he’s about to lower his head, you push him away with your feet pressing against his chest. His forehead creases in confusion. “Beg,” you vocalize, your toes playing with his necklace. “Say: ‘baby, please, let me fuck you with my tongue.’”

Fuck your mouth upside-down, bend you over in an abandoned classroom, maybe even take you from behind and press your nude body against the window of a hotel room where people can see—Eren has already come up with multiple scenarios on how to make you pay for this but right now, he just has to bear with it. “Baby, please,” he mimics, but his tone is unsatisfying.

“I’m sure you can do better.” You snigger. “Come on, darling. Put your heart into it.”

He bites back his anger but his eyes still gleam dangerously as his patience runs thin. “Baby, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, let me fuck you with my tongue.”

“Good boy." You lay yourself down on the bed, hooking your arms under your thighs, pulling up your legs. “I’m all yours, Ren.”

Eren doesn’t wait for even a second to pass. He doesn’t play around anymore, changing pace from slow to fast without waiting for you to adjust. You moan, fingers buried deep in his hair, holding the back of his head as you move your hips to grind against his face.

He runs his tongue, flicking up and down your folds in a way that is so obscene, you feel like you have to shift your gaze away. But you don't. You commit every bit of his expression into his memory, probably take a picture of him if you can.

Wait.

Now, that's an idea.

With your hand on his head, you push him away, making him wince at the way you're yanking at his bun. "Just a moment, baby." You reach over to snatch his iPhone from the bed. Swiping your thumb along his screen, you aim the camera at his face.

"Smile for the camera," you purr. Eren, although he was taken aback at first, is never one to shy away. He loves watching himself pleasure you. Hearing you moan from his touch boosts up his self-esteem. It's only for you and him anyway, right? You and your dripping wet pussy would look so perfect in his gallery.

So he smirks and puts on a show. He's so sensual, the way his tongue slips past his front teeth, his little "mmm," every time he clasps his lips and suckles on your clit—he's the depiction of the dirtiest poem you've ever read.

"How do you like the taste, Daddy?"

"I fucking love it." He runs his tongue across his lower lip, looking up to the camera from underneath his long eyelashes. "You're so sweet, baby girl. The sweetest cunt I've ever tasted."

You chortle, mocking and proud.

Keeping his promise, it only takes a moment before you feel your stomach turning warm as your muscles grow taut. When the video has surpassed three minutes long, you decide to stop. You want to focus on him. You need to concentrate on reaching your high. This has been going on for too long.

You cast his phone away, not caring whether you've switched off the camera or not. “Ah, I’m gonna cum. Suck on my clit again.” Your legs are closing in around his head, suffocating him but neither of you cares. “Yeah, fuck, just like that. Eren—” Shockwaves run through you as you let out a shuddering breath. Your fingers are grabbing onto his strands too tightly and he grunts, still lazily moving his tongue as your pleasure ripples through you.

“Oh, God,” you sigh, followed shortly by a string of giggles. “That felt so good.” Propping your body on your elbows, you reach out to stroke his cheek. His chin glistens from your essence, and when you press your thumb against the corner of his mouth, he parts his lips obediently. You can see a glimpse of his tongue, the same one that was inside you a moment ago, and you bite your lip at the sight. “So you are good with your tongue.”

You tug him forward by his collar and reward him with a kiss, messy and breathless. He’s a bit dazed when you pull away but his voice is just as deep and low when he reminds you, “Untie me.”

“You wanna cum, Rennie?”

“Yes.”

“Aaw, too bad…” You jut out your lower lip. “'Cause I just did and now I feel kinda tired.”

He didn't find it humiliating to be recorded with his tongue inside your heat, but you're ridiculing him like this? His dignity is shattered and it shows on his face. “You are not gonna leave me like this.”

You arch an eyebrow at his tone. “See, I don’t think that’s the right way to ask someone a favor.” You can go on forever like this but knowing how he can be a bit resentful sometimes, torturing him any further than this will only give him more reason for him to be even merciless with you in bed. Not that it’s a bad idea, but—“Well, I guess I can’t give my lovely boyfriend a case of blue balls now, can I? Sit on the bed.”

“You’re not gonna untie me first?”

“Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

His cock spasms at the way you say your line, so bossy and arrogant. Yanking him up by his necklace, treating him like a dog on a leash, you push him down until he’s perched on the edge of your bed. You kneel on the carpeted floor, settling yourself between his legs. Unzipping his jeans, you pull the fabric and his underwear low enough until his cock springs free. It’s leaking pre-cum, twitching when he feels your heavy gaze on it. Eren nearly whimpers when you give him lazy strokes, his leg muscles tightening. It’s like he hasn’t been touched for years. “Want my mouth on you, baby?” You question him with a smirk, your breath caressing his tip with every word.

His jaw grows slack, his chest heaving up and down. “Yes, please.”

He’s much more submissive now, you realize, probably because you’re finally giving him what he wants. You hum, running your tongue across your lower lip. You lean close, kissing the throbbing vein on the side of his cock, lips brushing ever so lightly.

Suddenly, you circle your fingers around him again and you run your hand up and down his length, giving him a set of fast pumps that steals a startled gasp from his mouth. "Ah—wait—stop—"

He tries to shake away from your grip but you keep him still, spitting onto his cock so you can glide your hand more easily. "Baby—Baby, please wait—" His body jerks and flinches, his eyebrows stitched together as he feels his climax closing in. He doesn't want to finish yet, not like this, but when you're moving your hand like that, you're robbing his choices away. "Shit, shit, shit, baby—I'm gonna cum—"

Fuck, he's ready. He doesn't care anymore. Everything just feels so good. He can fuck you again in a few minutes, he just needs to cum now. And he's there, standing on the edge, ready to have his orgasm wash over him like the storm but it never does.

Because you stop. You retract your hand at once, leaving his cock standing and twitching in the air. His mouth falls open, his chest heaving up and down with his black shirt sliding off his shoulders.

"God, look at that face." You jibe at the sight of him looking so wrecked and disappointed. If you didn't know him any better, you might even think he was about to cry. "How do you like being edged, Daddy?"

Never in his life has ever felt this urge to take a fistful of your hair, shove his cock inside your mouth, and fuck you deep until you gag and choke all over his length, doing it over and over without sparing you any mercy even if you beg him to stop with tears in your eyes. God, you can be so infuriating sometimes. "You're having fun?" he asks you, cold and menacing.

"I'm having the best day of my life." But you apologize to him by twining your hand around his cock again, applying a gentle kiss on his head. "I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Here, let me make it up to you." You part your lips, taking him in but only the tip. You let him feel just a bit of your warmth, the slickness of your tongue that’s pressed flat against his muscle. You plan to tease but Eren is not having it. He bucks his hips forward so abruptly, thrusting into your mouth and you choke, taken by surprise. Growling back at him, you press one hand against his thigh, another one on his stomach, keeping him in place. You break away with a pop, a thick rope of saliva connecting your mouth to his dick. Eren groans in vexation, so loudly, you’re sure the students next door can hear it.

“Who told you to move?” You glare at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

He throws his head back, emitting a sound between a grunt and a whine. “Fucking hell, you’re—” You harshly cover his mouth with your hand. “Mmph?!”

Keeping your palm glued to his face, you climb on his lap. You settle down with your knees on the bed, trapping his thighs between yours. You retract your hand only to shut him up with your lips, pillaging his mouth with so much vigor, he can barely keep up. "You're so damn impatient." Curling your fingers around his cock, you align his tip against your entrance.

He moans, louder than he’s ever been and you’re grateful that you’re there to muffle it down. No matter how many times you’ve done this with him, Eren is still the largest man you’ve ever had, stretching and filling you in a way that makes you keen. You grab hold of him in reflex, teeth grinding to refrain yourself from making noises.

The way you're shuddering makes him realize that you're in a bit of pain. Breathlessly, as he watches the way your face contort in discomfort, he asks, “You okay?” It's odd, even for him, how he felt so aggravated a moment ago, to the point that he wanted to lash out, and now he's like this, his face twisting in concern.

“Yeah, just—“ You try to move. Even with how drenched you are, there’s still a stinging pain as you wait for yourself to adjust. “It’s been a while.”

With you being this close to him, your chests squeezed together, Eren can feel your heartbeat hammering against your rib cages. “I won’t move, so…” He makes sure to let his lips brush against your forehead when he whispers. “Take as much time as you need.”

The sudden change in his attitude almost makes you laugh. “Didn’t you say you wanted to fuck me until I cry earlier?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m trying to be nice, and this is what I get?”

“I hate when you’re being nice.” You dip your head down to speak the words against the side of his throat. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t suit—"

You sink your teeth at the spot that connects his neck to his shoulder, pushing his shirt down until the fabric pools around his elbows. You do it right at the same time you work yourself on his dick, sliding almost all the way up before you take him to the hilt once more. Eren hisses in both pain and pleasure, the muscles in his stomach contracted as he feels his skin burned and marked. You try to soothe it down by planting a tender kiss, doing it several times until he can feel your smirk forming.

“You wanted me to mark you up, didn’t you?” You whisper against his ear, tugging his earlobe gently between your teeth. “Now everyone can see who owns you.”

“I still have one presentation to do tomorrow,” he grumbles but there’s no fury in his voice. If anything, he seems to be thrilled to have your marks on him, as this is the first time you’ve painted love bites on his body.

“Well,” you grind your hips, draping your arms on his shoulders for support. “The more reason why I should do it again, then.”

And you both do it at the same time—you suckling on the supple skin of his neck while he paints purplish bruises on your shoulder. You keep your hips moving, picking up pace and growing desperate with each grind. At one point, you push him down by the center of his chest, his body hitting the sheets when he husks, “Ah, shit, baby, you’re so good.”

“Yeah?” You keep your left hand above his heart to balance yourself as you bounce harder on his lap. “Go on, Daddy. Talk to me.”

“You’re so wet for me. So fucking tight.” He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice the way you have one hand crawling up to his neck, slowly tightening your grip around his throat. “I can feel you—” He stops—no, he can’t finish. Not with the way you’re pressing against his windpipes.

“Feel what?” You lean forward, your hair tickling his cheeks as you move back and forth. “Cat got your tongue, Eren?”

His eyes glint at the word, his smirk resurfacing. “Ah, I love the way you call my name,” he rasps, his voice strained but it only makes him sound even more erotic. “Love the way you choke me.”

The laugh that escapes you is derogatory but Eren loves it. “Seems like you’re not so much of a hard dom, after all,” you scoff.

“I can be whatever you want.” He can feel your walls tightening around him and he throws his head back, eyes closed in rapture. “God, the way you move, baby… Drives me fucking insane.”

His rambling makes you feel the same, just as desperate, just as wild. With labored breathing and sweat breaking on your temple, you ask him with your words laced in urgency. "Are you close?”

“So close,” he moans out, his eyes drifting down to your chest, watching the way your breasts bounce with every snap of your hips. “Ah, I wish I could put my hands on you.”

You wish nothing more, really. It feels wrong to ride him without having his nails sinking into your hips. You just feel incomplete. And you know if you release him right now, he’s going to ram his hips so forcefully into you until you see stars behind your lids. So, what is there to lose?

“Fuck, okay, turn around.” Moving away from his lap, Eren groans at the loss but he rolls to his side, letting you unfasten his belt from his wrists. You feel sorry when you witness the angry circles that blossom on his skin. You can only imagine how painful it is. “Eren, I’m sor—”

He grabs you by the nape, slamming your face down to your pillow. You almost scream, shocked by the sudden friction of his cock against your walls and how hard he’s driving himself into you. “I’ll give you a chance to apologize later,” he says right beside your ear. “I’m gonna make sure you'll say it like your life depends on it.” The fabric of his black shirt caresses the dip of your spine, his necklace resting on the spot between your shoulder blades. “Right now, I’m going to fuck you like you deserve.”

You're biting on the edge of your pillow when his hands slide down past your stomach. He lifts your lower half in the air while keeping your upper body glued to the sheets, allowing him for deeper penetration. Your hair tie slips off his strands, his long hair swaying like branches in the storm with his every thrust.

Eren has both of your wrists pinned against your back, holding them in one hand while he keeps his right one on your shoulder, keeping you in place. “How do you like being tied up, Sweetheart?”

You can’t answer him. He can be as cocky as he wants, you don’t care. He pumps into you, furiously, groaning his own pleasure, taking you hard, building on the shockwaves already coursing through your body and taking you higher. His shirt is still draping around his lower back, his jeans hanging low. His back muscles ripple when he tightens his grip around you, "Whimpering like a little bitch now, aren't you, baby?" He simpers. "After all that teasing you did, in the end, you're still like this, hungry for my cock. But don't worry." He snaps his hips forward, once, twice, to emphasize each word that comes out of his mouth next. "Daddy's gonna fill you up real nice."

It's embarrassing how fast your orgasm hits you, and when it does, it feels like you’re free-falling from the sky.

“That’s it,” he chuckles. “Cum on my fucking cock just like that, baby girl.” His hips rocket back and forth, his face twisting in sweet ecstasy. “Ah, shit, you’re squeezing me so tight.”

His name, along with a string of expletives, comes out as sobs from your mouth, and when he keeps plunging himself hard, they turn into shrieks of pleasure. You always become like this when you’re overstimulated.

It's cruel for him to not give you the chance to ride out your climax slowly, or even take a breath. He's only eager to give you another orgasm that’s just as intense. You're sure your body won’t be able to hold it if that's the case, but thankfully, Eren’s hips turn erratic. “Where do you want me, baby? Want me to cum inside?”

“Yes, Daddy!” You usually only call him that to taunt him, to rile him up so he can be rough with you, but right now you can’t even control what comes out of your mouth.

“Beg then,” he imitates you from earlier. He lets go of your wrists, moving one hand to squeeze your left ass cheek while smacking his palm hard against your other one. “Say: Daddy, please fill me up with your cum.”

You’re clawing against your sheets. Every time he plunges himself deep, it feels like he’s slamming the air out of your lungs. “Fill me up with your cum!”

He clicks his tongue. “You didn’t say please.”

“Daddy, please!”

Your voice—that needy whine from your pretty lips—it feeds his ego so well. Pounding into you with a forceful rhythm, he sends his hot seeds shooting deep within you as his heartbeat thunders deafeningly in his ears. He’s still groaning out a series of profanities when his pace gradually turns slow, and when he’s done, he pulls himself out, sitting on his heels with one hand pushing back his hair. He blows out his cheeks, “Well, fuck,” he laughs in satisfaction, “Not gonna lie, being edged several times today really paid out in the end.”

It takes you a few seconds to answer him, too fucked out of your mind to instantly form a word. “Can you… help me clean up, please?”

“For what?” Eren holds his length in one hand, gliding the side of his cock against the crease of your ass. He plays with the essence that seeps out of you, pushing his tip back and forth into your hole. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He’s fucking his cum back into you, grinding his hips slowly but steady before he lets himself be buried deep inside, sheathed in your warmth. He lies himself down on top of you, the hard shape of his chest compliments your backside. He supports himself up with his elbows on the sheets. “Didn’t I tell you?” He leans closer to let you feel his smirk growing against the shell of your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you until you pass out,” he murmurs. “Probably fuck you in your sleep too, who knows. After what you did to me today, you don’t think Daddy will let you go just like that, do you, baby girl?”

You gulp.

God, save me.

***

Part 2 can be read here!

Huge thanks to my besties Sandra @the-princess-button and Coi @coyloves for giving me inputs and feedback. Sandra even wrote a few lines for me because my english is so terrible and I don't know how to describe the belt thing Eren did with his teeth, so thank you for being an angel I love you both so much ❤️❤️❤️

Tagging:

@l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @didiyogo @xximthefoolxx-blog @coyloves @erenbean @tehehebri @justasketch @infnteen @naiomiwinchester @spiderlingh @doyochii @ahornyenby @aengelren @sakurashell @the-princess-button @resonancesoul @blrqt @cacapeepee @persyhange @jaegersdiary @cknf69 @erentoes @trashgremlin36 @meed18 @j0livi0ni @snowflake-201 @jaymihawk @eva-gates @claudevonstrukesblog @sofijaeger @rinsie @blanccofiie @ereninbunu @natanialora @khinjito @ackersune @watermelon-online @tropicsoda @claudevonstrukesblog @alexackrman @bblgumz @jurrasicpork @erenjaegercult Thanks for reading, lovelies ❤️

#eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff #eren x reader #eren x reader smut #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yeager x reader smut #aot smut #snk smut #eren x reader fluff #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren #eren jaeger #eren yeager

8K notes · View notes

mintchocohip · 4 years

Text

sub!bts ﹢ the reason for chastity 🔐

❝ Chastity is best approached with a sense of purpose. Although the OT7 have their individual reasons for wanting the cage, they all do so with a deepening desire for your control.

a/n ─ a little something i worked on to break writer’s block. with locktober as inspiration, i set out to write a few sentences about how the members would approach keyholder relationships. 1.5k words later, turns out thinking about the members in chastity is, indeed, very inspiring...

note ─ sub!bts x domme!reader. see each member for any other kinks or notes!

🔑 TAEHYUNG ﹢ adoration

other kinks - possessive behavior | note - poly mentioned

Without your constant gropes and nuzzles Taehyung is in danger of forgetting you’re obsessed with him. Although he understands you’ll stop if maintaining his interest in this play becomes boring for you, Taehyung also very sincerely hopes you view jealously withholding his body from a world that wants him as your job. When life pulls you in separate directions Taehyung feels connected to you through this private, secure symbol of ownership. You call constantly to hear that he’s being a good boy and ensure he’s comfortable in equal measure. Resting on your bed surrounded by cozy blankets looking vaguely shy to be captured from his thick collar down to his glittering cage and thigh harnesses while you photograph the artwork calms Taehyung with safe knowing. You’re proud this boy is yours. Every time he’s frustrated you won’t let him out of the cage so he can play with his friends Taehyung rereads the notes you scrawled on the backs of those polaroids, stashed inside an envelope in his sub journal—notes about how precious he is to you, how breathtaking his cock is, and how the world's finest treasures are always kept under lock and key.

🔑 YOONGI ﹢ masochism

Yoongi’s tastes hide in plain sight. He finds satisfaction in intentional, controlled discomfort. Doing it to himself is easy. When he discovers you have the same interests he tries to cut his giddiness at finding a keyholder with a little diffidence. It’s similar to your elegant silk shibari knots under his work clothes, or simple pressure on the bruises you left along the insides of his thighs when he crosses his legs to sit and check his notifications while waiting for the butcher to call his number. Reminders of a body possessed willingly keep him grounded. Yoongi has caged himself in the past out of curiosity. He enjoyed forming new routines around the cage, remembering it slowly when he awoke at night confused by a strange heaviness, observing its effects on his libido, and generally experimenting with a transformative yet tame form of self-discovery. Your hand holding the key will change the experience completely. Before he can do this with you, Yoongi needs to hear you explain why you’re interested. The tension of physical strain and emotional warmth is what makes him itch for it. Beyond that, whatever rules you want to set, or games you want to play—Yoongi is here to follow your heed.

🔑 JUNGKOOK ﹢ initiative

The moment the uncomfortable cage touches his sensitive skin Jungkook’s affectionate mannerisms shut down. Showering together finds Jungkook maneuvering around you awkwardly. Part of him is confused. His body serves you well. He’s internalized this confidence so deeply that even when you explain your intentions he secretly wonders if wearing the cage is a punishment. You always tell him he’s too tempting. Most days he can’t hug you without risking a hand on his cock two seconds later. The removal of his ability to provide all of himself to you feels like a subtle hint that he should give you some distance. Or, at the very least, he should cool down on the teasing touches and deep kisses until you want to fuck him again. “It isn’t about your body, baby,” you remind him patiently, “it’s about your loyalty. There’s no reason to stop showing me affection. Just because you won’t be getting off doesn’t mean I can’t.” The learning curve is a surprisingly steep slope. Satisfying you with his touch without worrying about getting hard as fast as you’d like and coming before you get bored is almost a relief. Jungkook begins to understand. By focusing on your body alone this dynamic is reinforced in a way he could never truly understand when he had his freedom.

🔑 HOSEOK ﹢ humility

other kinks - pegging, degradation

Firm control corrects Hoseok’s scattered priorities when he forgets his true nature. Although you reassure him again and again he can slide it off comfortably with lotion and patience, Hoseok never tries. Not because he enjoys wearing the cage—but because he respects you, he’s a little bit scared of you, and honoring you is worth losing his autonomy. Initially, there’s no real purpose to the cage besides dominating Hoseok psychologically. You become so accustomed to seeing him with it on, though, that his bare cock begins to look underdressed. Slowly, bespoke cages in a glittery rainbow of colors fill out a sleek strongbox near the bed. Choosing what color he’ll wear today is fun for you. The flippancy hurts a little bit, but that sting is what pulls Hoseok in deeper. Neediness to have all this pent-up energy fucked out of his electrified skin fogs Hoseok’s mind and quiets him into obedience with the hopes that you’ll enjoy his plaintive kisses on your legs and give him what he needs. A condescending pat on the head when the strap pulls out of his ass brinks Hoseok into forgetting why he’s shaking yet unsatisfied and begging for more. Thankfully, you’re here to tell him. He’s a whore. Your whore. And, that’s all he really needs to remember.

🔑 JIMIN ﹢ passion

Jimin has always known chastity would be easy for him. He’s operating on intoxicatingly high levels of horniness every second of the day, anyways. He’s learned to cope valiantly. With his own pleasure defined loosely he readily offers one facet of it for the comforting notion he’ll be gifted a plethora of new intimacies. The cage will bring you closer. He knows it will. Scheduled check-ins keep you fed on each other’s attention. Randomly sending him a partial nude of yourself during the day with the promise you’ll give him one number of this week’s passcode for every photo he recreates to your liking has Jimin rushing to the nearest public bathroom, heart hammering with both desire for you and hope for good lighting to pose in. Tracking tasks on the daily habit app to earn evenings without the cage motivates Jimin to do the things he wants to do for you but sometimes lacks the energy for, like practicing the piano and providing you accompaniment when you sit with your cello. Caged sex is, however, never a loss. Jimin might prefer if you simply told him you love how creatively you please each other in bed without adding that you want to start incorporating anything from foot massage to prostate toys into his tasks. Nonetheless. This light in your eyes as you’re overtaken by whims of intrigue is too sexy for Jimin to resist.

🔑 NAMJOON ﹢ self-improvement

other kinks - sub training, toys, voyeurism/exhibitionism, filming

Mediocre sex isn’t worth your time. Namjoon adores that you hold him to your standards. The intense single-minded drive that consumes him when you turn him on is redirected and channeled into other forms of pleasing you. Graduations from watching you use toys on yourself, to using toys on your body at your direction, to free play with the toys, to eventually repeat the process incorporating hands-on techniques fascinates Namjoon more than anything. In a scheme of education the cage is simply a reminder that you haven’t gotten to that part yet. Until then, Namjoon keeps the records of how many times he’s made you come this week and how he did it with fervor. Watching old videos of himself fucking you to take notes distracts from purpose; but, Namjoon can click his pen, shake his head, and refocus on a studious attitude. An extravagant rewards system combined with aftercare orgasms stop Namjoon from getting antsy. This venture is predicated on his ache to study your individuality, but you need to feel him savoring the process, too. When he is granted momentous opportunities to show you what he’s learned, mutual gratitude shines.

🔑 SEOKJIN ﹢ modesty

other kinks - cuckolding, threesome

Seokjin asks about it often. If he’s too big, or too small—if you would like his cock better if it was thicker, or harder, or softer, more curved; a different shade of pink. “Stop with the inane questions,” you finally snap during attempts to assuage him for the hundredth time when it’s obvious you love it because you’re laying here blushing and cooing while you jerk it off, “or I’ll lock it up.” Seokjin shuts up; flustered. Coyness isn’t Seokjin’s usual style when talking about kinky things. Yet, chastity gives you an unusually sulky boyfriend. When you ask if this is what he’s wanted all along Seokjin won’t deny it. He’s also too embarrassed by how good it feels to say “yes”. There has always been an understanding in this relationship. You’re the only person he gives himself to like this. Fully. Wholly. Through that virtue of submission you’re falling in love with his body all over again. You kiss him deeper as if to imprint your love. You tease him harder, but pet him softer and let him cuddle him tighter. Seokjin has wistful daydreams about romantic vanilla missionary and hearing you moan in approval when the cage comes off; but, he also knows he can get confused. If you decide what’s best for him is listening to your fond laughter at how hard he’s dripping through the cage while you warm each other up for the guy who’ll be arriving in a few minutes—he trusts your judgment without question.

#sub!bts #domme!reader #member x reader #ot7 post #sub!taehyung #sub!yoongi #sub!jungkook #sub!hoseok #sub!jimin #sub!namjoon #sub!seokjin #mch #headcanon

194 notes · View notes

hanatiny · 4 years

Text

[2:36] Love Bites

a/n: You give me too much power with your wonderful ideas, @truebluejoong 😉 This one’s for you~

pairing: sub!Hongjoong x vampire!f!reader

genre: fluff + smut

word count: 2567

warnings: non-idol AU, reader is smooth as hell and makes Joong a shy blushy boi, some body worship, spanking (only one smack, but might as well tag it just to be sure), mentions of blood, biting (for obvious reasons), hair pulling, reader pegging Joong, he’s highkey a masochist, also into leather, also very vocal about his enjoyment :)

-----

You could’ve sworn you felt something beat in your undead chest for the first time in centuries when you first saw him in that dimly lit vinyl record store you randomly walked into one pleasantly warm evening - or, well, rather morning for you.

Was that what people called “love at first glance”? Or was it “at first sight”…? You weren’t entirely sure.

“Ma'am, I’m sorry, but we’re gonna close up soon so I don’t know if you really want.. to…” he trailed off, forgetting what he was about to say; his timid voice had made you turn to look at him and he was mesmerized immediately.

A blush warmed his cheeks and you chuckled softly at how speechless he was.

“Hm~ I came here to browse for a while, that’s a shame… Though now I might just get something else entirely.” You smiled sweetly at him as you approached the counter he stood at, your steps sounding louder in his ears while his blush deepened with every passing second. “A-and what would that be?” You hummed, pretending to be lost in thought before you locked eyes with him. “I’ll take your number, for starters~ Maybe your heart if I’m lucky…” You purposefully insinuated something more beyond that, but you knew he’d never actually guess it correctly with how flustered he was.

His breath caught in his throat and he choked in shock, regaining the remnants of his composure surprisingly quickly. “Well, I-I suppose I could give that to you.. M-my number that is! Not, you know…”

“I think we’ll see about that soon enough… Hongjoong~” You teasingly uttered his name after your eyes flicked to the name tag that stuck to his shirt, and, amused, you watched him break eye contact to hastily scribble his phone number onto a small piece of paper, then handing it to you with a shaky hand.

You smiled brightly, satisfied, before you tucked the paper into your pocket and blew him a kiss as you spun on your heel, making your way towards the door again, hesitating for a moment when you pushed it open. You tilted your head back as he called out for you, “W-wait a second! I never got your name..?” You hummed as you replied with a wink, “Oh, it’s Y/n. Make sure to remember~”

And with that, you walked away and the door fell closed behind your shadow-clad form. Hongjoong ran a hand through his already ruffled white hair, letting out a sigh, surprised by how much of an effect you’d had on him as he swore he could’ve seen a pair of fangs flashing in your smile. His friend and coworker, Mingi, walked out from the back room at that moment, giving a quizzical look as he crossed his arms. “What the hell’s up with you hyung, didn’t you always say you had a heart of stone?” “Oh, you have no idea… I don’t know what this woman did to me, but believe me, you’d understand if you saw her. She’s just…” ‘Perfect’, he wanted to say, but he bit his tongue so he wouldn’t have to deal with Mingi’s nonstop teasing for the rest of the month.

Hongjoong had a week off from work, and you more than happily took the opportunity to convince him to spend the time with you at your place. You snapped out of your daydream when you felt your sleeping lover’s body stir in your arms as he huffed and whined repeatedly, shifting suddenly and sitting up. You mimicked his movements, slightly worried as you gently cupped his chin with your cold hand, tilting his face towards yours. With a small frown upon spotting them, you kissed away the tears that stained his pale cheeks.

“What’s wrong, Joongie? Anything I can help with?” you inquired, eyeing him carefully. He shook his head dismissively. “Just a nightmare, I’ll be fine.” “If you say so…” you whispered as you protectively wrapped your arm around your boyfriend, and he took the incentive to lean into you as you played with his hair lovingly. “Y/n..?” You hummed softly in response. “Would you wanna try… feeding off of me? I liked when you accidentally bit my tongue the other day, but I want you to do it on purpose…” he shyly requested, and you blinked at him, taken aback.

Sure, you had bitten his tongue while making out with him - pierced his lip once too, now that you thought about it - but you’ve adamantly refused to feed off of Hongjoong thus far, because to you he meant more than just a food source to eventually throw away - if you were perfectly honest, he was the love of your eternal life and thinking about possibly having to live without him one day made you sadder than you’d care to admit.

“If you’re sure about it, baby…” your voice trailed off as you leaned in, gently pushing your significant other back down to the mattress and straddling his waist. “Ah, yes. I-I’m sure~” You’d recognize that kind of stutter anywhere: He was getting turned on, and it was your sign to get to work.

You started pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses over his collarbone and jawline, pulling the collar of his shirt to the side for easier access as you coaxed erotic whines from Hongjoong’s lips. You paid extra close attention to how he reacted when you traced a line down the particularly prominent vein on his neck with your tongue, and when you noticed his breath escape him in short pants, you smirked against his skin. You slid one of your hands down between your bodies and palmed his growing erection, which was previously pressing against your own heated sex, through his pants and a soft whine tumbled from his lips, the sweetest one you’ve heard from him yet, causing you to let out a pleased hum.

Licking your lips, you made eye contact to the best of your abilities and, as gently as you could considering your surfacing thirst, sank your teeth into your boyfriend’s neck as he cried out in pleasure. Your eyes rolling back into your head as you tasted his blood, sweetened from arousal and making you dizzy from how good it was, you heard broken mewls escape Hongjoong’s lips as you sucked his blood and moaned quietly against his neck. His hands, which he usually tended to tangle in your hair whenever you got intimate, slid down past your waist this time, stopping abruptly on your thighs. “Y-y/n, what-” he interrupted himself with his whimpers as you hummed knowingly, detaching yourself from his neck and licking the wound clean. “A harness, my love. Didn’t you say you wanted to let me take even more control~?” You gave him a challenging look, daring him to disagree and deny what he wanted. “I-I did…”

Satisfied with his answer, you sealed his lips with yours, greedily swallowing his quiet moans as Hongjoong bucked his hips up into your hand and dug his hands into the straps of your harness, or at least what little he could feel of them through the fabric of your shorts. He tried to follow your lips when you eventually pulled away, but you gently pushed your lover back down to the mattress with a fond grin.

“Patience~ On your front, babyboy, ass up.” you ordered with a lilted hum, stepping away from the bed to grab the lube and dildo from your nightstand and taking off all your clothes except for your harness before you skillfully affixed the artificial length to the leather straps decorating your crotch area. You turned to Hongjoong afterwards, the glint of mischief flashing in your darkened eyes daring him to say something. His mouth went dry as his breath hitched, realizing you wore the top part of your garment too - which accentuated your chest beautifully, in his humble opinion - when he fully took in the sight of you, whining and squirming pathetically while his pupils dilated noticeably.

You could tell his words had left him completely the second you licked your lips suggestively, his body shaking with excitement as a smirk crept its way onto your face and you tilted your head when you climbed back onto the bed, pulling his hips closer to yours as he bunched up the bedsheets in his hands.

“Cute… I’m not even doing anything, and you’re already this needy~” you cooed as you studied his reactions intently, the action coming easy to you thanks to your naturally heightened senses, noticing every hardly audible, strained inhale and the way he’d try to relief some of the pressure between his legs by shifting his weight from one to the other. A futile attempt that backfired greatly, as it turned out, his erection now straining against his pants even more as he groaned in frustration and arousal both.

“Aww, need help baby~?” You leaned forward and pulled on his hair so you could see his facial expressions better, and the broken whimper that sounded told you everything you needed to know as you slipped Hongjoong’s pants down his hips, noting the absence of underwear with interest, and wrapped a hand around his hardened length as he whined.

You trailed soft kisses up his back, wondering in the back of your mind when he’d gotten rid of his shirt while you stroked him slowly and hummed against his skin. “You’re so pretty… You have no idea how good you look underneath me right now, baby~” you purred lowly as you gently squeezed his cock, his mouth falling open in a silent moan.

Your free hand, previously dancing along his thigh with teasingly light touches, was now drenched in lubricant after you dipped your fingers into the bottle before shoving it to the side carelessly and bringing your hand up to your boyfriend’s ass to give it a light smack, leaving a red wet handprint on the cheek as his body arched upwards with a lustful whine.

His dick throbbed in the hand that enveloped it, now leaking precum from its tip. You inched your wet fingers closer towards his eager hole, pausing for a moment when you reached it, your mischief filled eyes narrowing slightly.

“Joongie~? Have you been touching yourself?” Your sultry tone sounded threatening in that moment and he squirmed bashfully, averting his eyes. “Yes… I-I’m sorry~” You could hear the genuine regret in his whiny voice and cooed.

“It’s alright, just would’ve appreciated if you told me, it could’ve saved me some time, precious~” you whispered, leaning over him to brush your lips against his earlobe as you slowly pushed yourself into him and he arched into you with a broken, loud moan, eyes starting to tear up in pleasure when you sunk your fangs into the side of his neck you didn’t bite earlier, sucking harshly as he whimpered pitifully.

“Please, Y/n… M-more…~” he croaked out amidst a groan, causing you to smirk slyly into his neck before you pulled away after a few moments. “Hm~ As much as it turns me on to know you enjoy me biting you, I don’t wanna suck you dry, babyboy… At least not dry of your blood, you know I’ll gladly swallow something else though~”

You could easily tell how flustered your boyfriend was at the thought of you sucking him off while your fangs would graze his length carefully, face flushed a bright red as he chewed his bottom lip.

You roughly snapped your hips into his and, if you didn’t know any better, the moan he let out was so loud and so sexual that you would’ve thought he had an actual cock in his ass right now. - - -

“Sounds so beautiful… Ah~” You struggled to form a coherent sentence, getting off on the lewd noises and pleas for more that escaped his lips like a forbidden chant as you fucked him roughly and stroked his cock in tandem with your powerful thrusts. You accidentally squeezed it a little harder than intended at one point, coaxing a hoarse whimper to be vocalized from beneath you that sounded heavenly to your ears and you paused briefly when he gasped.

“P-please, could you do that again~? I’m.. I’m close…” he begged breathlessly, and with how nice it sounded, you couldn’t possibly deny him what he wanted.

You roughly squeezed Hongjoong’s cock while you picked up your pace again, and it didn’t exactly take long for the violent tremors of his climax to overwhelm him as he dug his hands into the bedsheets with a soft moan of your name, his cum painting both your hand and his stomach a milky white as you continued your ministrations for a little while to help him ride out his orgasm.

“Good boy~” you cooed affectionately when you removed yourself from his body, leaving the room momentarily to grab a washcloth to clean him with. You gently rolled your significant other onto his side to do so when he spoke huskily, causing you to pause for a moment and look up at him.

“You didn’t cum yet, babe, do you want me… to…?” You chuckled softly at the glint in his eyes that told you just how eager he was to please you despite his fairly obvious fatigue, waving your hand at him dismissively as he trailed off. “It’s fine, I’ll probably do something about it on my own later. You should rest, love. It’s late~”

He pouted adorably, a warm smile growing on your face at the sight while you resumed your task at hand. You carefully put the cloth to the side when you finished, shuffling up to Hongjoong’s heated body to spoon him and press tender kisses to his neck as you watched him slowly doze off in your arms.

The next morning, when you were about to fall asleep, you suddenly heard a loud whine coming from the bathroom and had your arms wrapped around Hongjoong’s frame from behind him in a matter of very few seconds, now wide awake, humming with a knowing smirk as you met his eyes in the mirror.

He tilted his head to the side while he inspected the marks on his neck with a pout, and it took every ounce of self-restraint you had acquired over the years to not bite him right then and there now that you knew how sweet his blood was.

“Y/n, you really took ‘love bites’ to a whole new level… How am I supposed to cover these up when I go back to work..~?” Your breath fanned over his sensitive neck as you exhaled pointedly, a cheeky gleam dancing in your eyes.

“Don’t. I want everyone to see, everyone to know who you belong to, baby~ What if I add a few more, hm? Wouldn’t you like that, Joongie~?” Your teasing tone made him tense up and flush a bright red as he avoided your gaze with a light shiver.

“…I do.” he breathed out finally and you made a soft noise of approval while you spun him in your arms so he faced you, gently nudging him back towards the bathroom counter as he yelped.

You sealed his plush lips with yours as you kissed him deeply, hands roaming over his body once again while the same thought ran through your minds.

“I could get used to this…”

#ateez scenarios #ateez #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong #fluff #damn this one is LONG #....ha that's what she said #ANYWAY #yeah #I'm a sucker for sub!Hongjoong #shjklgaskghjla #hanatiny writes

173 notes · View notes

honeymoonjin · 5 years

Text

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 namjoon x reader x hoseok x taehyung || 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 20.5k || 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 smut, surprisingly enough this is literally pwp

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 in an effort to tame their increasingly bratty girlfriend, namjoon and hoseok take their sexual exploits to a new level and hire a professional dom to run a session with them in a bdsm dungeon

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 HELLA smut, dom Namjoon, dom Hoseok, dom Taehyung, sub + bratty reader, roleplay, BDSM, mxm, overstimulation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, unprotected sex, protected sex, foursome, oral (m receiving), spanking, BDSM furniture, degradation (name calling), gagging, electrical play, orgasm delay and denial, use of sex toys, possessiveness, use of safewords, BDSM machines, fingering, masturbation, multiple orgasms, choking, squirting, sensory deprivation, fucking machine, vaginal sex, anal sex, creampie, double penetration, triple penetration?, nipple play, i guess tae is technically a sex worker, pet names, sexual hierarchy, fully consensual slave-owner dynamic (not between the main characters)

a/n: this is a sequel to Hot Fuzz (namseok x reader) but can be read on its own. also, this contains other members wink wonk but i’m keeping them a secret to save the suspense. a million thanks to @hobiandcoffee , @jhspetitegf and @honey-boyyoongi for their help. couldn’t have done it without your help! also happy early birthday @jamaisjoons i hope this ruins you xxx

----

“Alright, he’s coming over. Remember our rules, princess?” Namjoon’s fingers wrap around your chin, digging in just enough to press your bottom lip into a pout. You do your best to nod, but his grip doesn’t waver. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Yes, Daddy,” you murmur, feeling your heart warm when he smiles proudly at you. It’s relatively cool in the large space, and the contrast of the air with Hoseok’s warm body pressed against you makes you shiver.

The three of you had been waiting at the bar for the past ten or so minutes. Both you and Hoseok are practically vibrating with nervous excitement. The latter is on the bar stool next to you, looking very on-brand in black pants, combat boots, and a thin white tank. As always, his fingers are laden with rings, but it seems this time there’s a theme of silver bands, some with engravings or textures, others plain. You can’t help but wonder what pattern they’d welt on your ass if he spanked you. Perhaps today was a day for testing their limits as well as yours.

Namjoon, however, is the epitome of calm. Although both of your boyfriends had always been the ones in control, it was Namjoon who took charge earlier tonight when you were all getting ready. It was him that bought you the black lace bralette and matching miniskirt you were currently wearing; it was him who picked out what panties you were allowed to wear, before deciding nothing was better. It was him who booked you an appointment for waxing a few days prior so that you would be bare for him, able to feel everything. And now, as he kept your eyes fixed on him, he retained that composure. Going for a more subtle getup to Hoseok and you, he almost looked like he could walk into a high-profile business dinner and fit right in. Deep grey pants cinched at the waist with a belt were paired with a simple dress shirt, complete with expensive gold cufflinks.

The room is loud enough that you don’t hear the third man approaching until you hear his voice. You turn to look, but flush when Namjoon only lets your chin go after a moment, patting you condescendingly on the cheek. The newcomer, as he stands beside Namjoon and looks over the three of you, is decked out in leather, latex and buckles. A shot of anxious energy runs through your body as you look over how professional he looks. Leather pants, lace-up boots, and a latex top that is unzipped all the way to the middle of his chest, exposing a deep triangle of golden flesh. When he reaches out to shake Hoseok and Namjoon’s hands, a buckled strap around his bicep flexes slightly. You clench your thighs together, wishing Namjoon would’ve let you wear panties, anything to stop you from leaking onto the vinyl of the upholstered barstool.

“RM, Jay,” the man greets cordially, a surprisingly smooth-toned voice accompanying his fine-boned face. “My name is V, the sub will call me Master. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, my name is Y/N,” you supply helpfully, but V turns to glare at you with narrowed eyebrows. Your smile drops.

“I was under the impression you read the email, sub,” he says steadily, words just sharp enough to provide a threat. “The scene was to begin the moment I arrived, which means you shouldn’t be speaking out of turn.”

You blink, turning to Hoseok for back-up, but he shoots you a salacious wink and looks back over to V. “She did read the email, yes. We’ve been having problems with her not following our rules, actually, so it’s great that you could fit us in for a session.”

You pout and jab Hoseok playfully in the side. On a normal night, your boyfriend would teasingly warn you, or perhaps you’d get a light spanking, but now he goes tense, eyes past you. You frown, and twist around, only for your blood to run cold.

“Did you just hit Sir?” V asks coldly.

“I just poked him,” you defend.

His eyes flare. “You aren’t making this very easy for yourself, little sub. I wouldn’t be testing my patience so early on in the evening if I were you.”

You pout and hunch over in your seat. “I’m sorry, um, Master, but I didn’t hit him. I just poked him,” you repeat petulantly.

His lips stretch into a disbelieving smile, sharp at the edges. “You’re right,” he affirms, “there is a difference between hitting and poking. Tell me, little sub; if I bend you over that bartop right now and flip up your skirt, which one do you think you’ll be getting?”

Namjoon intervenes, placing a hand on your knee and squeezing it gently. “Just apologise to Hoseok, baby girl. That was your first strike, but we know you must be nervous.”

His touch calms you, and you turn to your other boyfriend with what you hope is a cute pout. “Sorry, Sir,” you mumble, “I won’t do it again.”

“Good girl,” Hoseok replies warmly. “Now, we have some things we’d like to discuss, so just sit nice and pretty for us, hm?”

“And remember our rules,” Namjoon reminds you firmly. You nod dutifully and wriggle around on the stool a bit, getting comfortable as the three of them begin discussion.

For a while it’s admin stuff - payment, prior experience, limits - and you let yourself zone out, eyes curiously roaming the room that’s laid out in front of you.

Never having been to a BDSM dungeon before, you had sort of expected some sort of medieval, dimly-lit basement, but it’s comfortingly clean, tidy, and in fact to one side of the room there seems to be a social area where a pleasant hum of chatter fills the air. Some are dressed like V, others more incognito like Namjoon. There are women with fluffy tails between their legs, men wearing nothing but a jockstrap. On the far side of the room, a lady old enough to be your grandmother rests her feet on the bare back of a middle-aged man, whose arm muscles tremble violently.

But of course, this isn’t just a social gathering, and the majority of the room is taken up by what almost seems like an open-space office. It’s a large room, with two hallways at the far end that lead into what you know are the private rooms, available by booking. You had tried an interrogation room with your two boyfriends as a way of branching further out into BDSM, and only now are you realising how much of a baby step that was. The sights in front of you are far more intense and varied, and you shift in your seat, feeling Namjoon’s hand still resting on your knee, as you wonder which of the toys you’ll be using tonight.

Although the room is fairly loud with pleasured cries and sounds of impact, vibration, and electricity, it’s not terribly packed or crowded. The larger pieces of equipment are spread out around the room, and there are plenty of free spots. Men and women in plain black clothing rush around cleaning stations between uses, and even more keep watch over the crowd, stationed throughout the room. Each one has a little neon badge on their breast, and white lettering stamped on the back of their shirts that say DM. From the induction pamphlet you three had received when signing up, you knew this meant Dungeon Monitor, and they were the staff there to take care and keep an eye on the scenes. It reassured you to see just how many of them there were.

Occupying yourself with watching floggings and fucking machines and elaborate bondage only entertains you for so long, however, and you tune back in to the conversation, kicking your feet lazily back and forth. One rule of the dungeon was that all subs had to remove their shoes, since they’d be the ones getting up on the equipment and it was easier to avoid property damage that way, but you feel strangely vulnerable feeling the cold metal of the bar stool’s legs against your skin.

“Oh, wow, that long, huh?”

“Well, she was trained and had experience with suspension before that. Besides, there were two different spotters at the event to…”

You huff, feeling boredom make you restless. You only had the guy for one evening and here Hoseok and Namjoon were having a chat with V like they had all the time in the world. You glance up; nobody heard your noise of frustration, so you subtly inch your foot out to where Namjoon stands across from you, running it up and down, hitching his pant leg a little. As V continues to describe some encounters he had, Namjoon turns his head to you slightly and gives you a questioning stare. You pout at him, enough that he’ll notice but not so much that you’d draw unwanted attention from V.

His face clears out into an encouraging smile, and you perk up, expecting him to play with you a little or at the very least suggest to V that you properly begin the session. But, to your horror, he simply clears his throat, interrupting V mid-sentence. “What is it, baby girl?”

You shrink back, feeling three sets of eyes heavy on you. “I’m bored, Daddy.”

“You’re bored,” he repeats with a gentle tone that you would hear an adult use on a small child. “And what do you want me to do about that, hm? I was in the middle of a conversation, baby.”

“It’s rude to interrupt,” Hoseok pitches in.

Your mouth drops open. “I didn’t interrupt, Namjoon did!” The man in question tenses his jaw at your lack of a title. You swallow nervously, turning back to Hoseok. “I just don’t get why we’re still just sitting around at the bar, Sir. Isn’t chatting a waste of time?”

“Do you always speak to your doms that way, sub?”

You huff and stare at V. Needy for attention, boredom has always made you reckless, and so far he hadn’t done anything except empty threats. You shrug.

With his dark hair swept back off his forehead, you see the disapproving lines as he narrows his eyebrows at you. “That’s not an answer.”

You shrug again, with more emphasis. You do your best to stop from flat-out rolling your eyes, simply casting them upwards in frustration. “No, Master, I don’t. Because normally by now we’d actually be doing something.”

Namjoon sucks in a breath, and Hoseok tenses. You know you’ve fucked up by the way V’s back naturally straightens and his shoulders drop, slowly shaking his head.

“I warned you,” the master chides, “but little brats like you don’t listen. It’s clear that whatever I do will be a ‘waste of time’ as long as you have that attitude. Get off that stool and bend over it.”

Your stomach swirls anxiously, though it’s not entirely negative. You swallow, mutely shaking your head.

Undeterred, V turns to your boyfriends on either side. “Jay, bend her over and push up her skirt. RM, hold her torso down.” You squeak out in surprise as Hoseok doesn’t hesitate, picking you up and dragging the stool out further into the room before pressing you down onto it. V follows you with a languid pace, and you hear him cracking his knuckles. “It’s no wonder you called me, boys. Your sub is completely out of control. You have to teach her discipline if you expect to get anything out of this.”

You wriggle under the palm that pins you against the upholstery of the bar stool, Namjoon crouching so that his face is in your eyesight. His mouth is hard but his eyes are muted with sympathy. “You’re making us look bad, baby girl. Maybe if you take your punishment well, we can give you a reward, hm?”

The cool air on your ass as Hoseok lifts your skirt to rest on your back has you hissing in a breath, and with dawning horror, you realise the area around you has gone quieter. You make a noise of discomfort in your throat, and Hoseok gives one of your cheeks a light teasing pat.

“Everyone’s watching you, kitten,” he reveals with an edge of humor to his voice. “They wanna see your pretty little ass get lit up.” When he speaks again, it’s further away and in such a low murmur that you can’t make out what he’s saying. He confers quietly with V for a few moments, and you curl your toes into the carpet, unsure how you feel about your body being on display to so many strangers like this.

After a few moments, it goes silent, and you hold your breath, getting a fright when a stinging hand comes down upon your right cheek. “Ah, Sir,” you cry out in surprise.

“Wrong,” a voice says flatly, an unfamiliar hand brushing over the mark. You gasp and try to wiggle away, rising on your tiptoes to escape the touch. Namjoon gently shushes you, brushing your hair back from your face as V chuckles, his voice low with satisfaction. “Where’s that foolish confidence gone now, hm?”

When his hand comes down again, it’s on the other cheek and twice as hard. You whine at the sting, expecting another soothing rub or snarky comment, but he doesn’t give you the chance, instead raining down hit after hit, palm cupped slightly to increase the noise. Namjoon and Hoseok hold you down as you desperately shift away, trying in vain to tuck your ass away or twist out of their grip, but he doesn’t stop. You lose count sometime past eight, and your flesh heats up with each one, but still he continues. You feel the warmth spread; hits on your ass are spread evenly around but you also feel smacks that land on the tops of your thighs and, when you part your legs slightly to adjust your position, one lands right on your bare pussy. Though you can’t hear what he’s saying through your whimpers and cries, you can hear him laugh every now and again, kneading your tender flesh or giving you a pinch. He’s showing off.

When the air stills, you’re trembling. Your cheeks are on fire, not only your ass but also your face as you blush violently, tears running in hot tracks down your face. Vaguely, you hear your boyfriends praising you, hands lifting you up off the stool. Your vision swims with being raised so suddenly but Namjoon lets you lean on him, wrapping his arms around you and burying his chin in your hair.

“You did so well, baby,” he promises. “So well. Do you understand why he had to do that?”

You sniff and nod weakly.

“Good girl,” he croons, and your heart swells.

After a few moments, you feel another pair of hands on you. You turn, standing on shaky legs, and see Hoseok squeezing your shoulder. “We’re ready to play now, kitten. You still want us to play with you?”

Nervously, your eyes slide behind him to V, but instead of the disapproving hard stare you were expecting, you’re faced with sparkling eyes. Pride. The look of a teacher when their student finally grasps a difficult concept. It’s a look that you hope to see again. You turn back to Hoseok, blink away the last of your tears, and nod. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s my girl,” Namjoon praises warmly, and pats your extremely sore ass to get you moving.

You jump at the contact, but quickly hurry forward to follow the two men in front of you as they wind their way deeper into the room. You realise zoning out during their conversation perhaps wasn’t the best idea, since you now have no idea what they’re going to do and, being in the scene, have no way of asking.

The smell of arousal is heavy in the air, along with faint wisps of various scented lubes and wax play candles. You bite your lip as the modest crowd of people that had stopped to watch your punishment slowly return to what they’re doing, not after eyeing up your ass, which no doubt is bright red if the stinging heat is anything to go by. Your fingers itch to pull your skirt back down, but you’re unsure if you’re allowed to, and while you wish to continue poking and prodding your doms throughout the evening, you want to wait until your flesh isn’t so tender. Besides, a little reward for being a good girl sure sounds nice right about now. You keep your eyes low, conveniently resting them on the sight of Hoseok’s ass in those tight black pants, and try to ignore the slickness of your inner thighs as you walk.

You’re stopped suddenly when that ass halts in front of you, and you stumble to prevent yourself from smacking right into him. You look up as Namjoon comes around to stand beside them, a hand resting gently but possessively on your shoulder.

“I’m excited for this, baby girl. I know it’s something you wanted to try, and I can’t wait to see you up there.”

Up? You swivel in the direction he’s looking, where a massive contraption is bolted to the wall, two long, skinny blocks crossed over in a narrow X. Heat floods to your core as you recognise the equipment.

“A Saint Andrew's cross,” V explains easily, like he’s given the spiel a thousand times. “Named after Saint Andrew, who got crucified like this rather than the traditional way. Although I’m sure you’ll be having a lot more fun than he did.”

While you had done all this research before in anticipation of this evening, there was something far more electric about hearing it while the cross itself stood before you, especially since you knew you were about to be on it. Your mouth opens to breathe out a curse, but you snap it shut quickly.

V notices this and his lip twitches at your obedience. “Alright, little sub. Undress now.”

You blink. Somehow this hadn’t occurred to you. Taking a surreptitious glance around the room, it seems nobody is paying much attention to you; everyone around you is either a DM or actively engaging in their own scene. Still, you hesitate, before reluctantly slipping down your skirt and unhooking your bra. You cross your arms over your breasts and press your thighs as close together as possible, avoiding the eyes of the three men around you.

“For someone that was so concerned about wasting time, you sure did take a while to obey me, sub. Next time I expect you to do as I or your other doms say the moment we say it, understand?”

You stare at the way your toes curl between the fibres of the charcoal carpet. “Yes, Master.” You say it quickly, forcing the words out, and he sighs in displeasure.

You can feel rather than see his dark gaze on you. The tip of one of his boots taps impatiently in the corner of your vision. “Your two options are obedience and the use of your safeword. Anything else and you will receive due punishment. It’s clear to me your doms are soft on you; I can assure you, I am not. I won’t hesitate to discipline you without mercy.”

As much as your mind screams not to, you can’t help the grin that twitches at your lip at the thought. You duck your head down further, hoping he missed it.

Of course, no such luck. “Oh, it seems the sub likes the sound of that,” he muses in a humored tone. “Maybe you gentlemen picked a good one after all.”

Hoseok hums, reaching forward to squeeze one of your ass cheeks. You gasp, biting your lip at the heat that flares up under his calloused fingers. “Our pretty little painslut,” he confirms. “Get up on the cross, kitten.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, embarrassment curling in the pit of your stomach at how throaty your voice is already. You feel wetness smearing all the way down to the bottom of your thighs now, and if your core doesn’t get some attention, you might just go crazy.

With shaky legs, you step up, the bottom of each plank having a narrow platform just wide enough for a foot. The distance isn’t too far, with your feet spread apart a bit wider than your hips, but the waft of cool air causes you to clench. Like always, when approaching something new, you feel your heart seize up in equal parts arousal and anxiety.

With your back to the cross, you’re faced out onto the crowd, and you feel yourself go weak, all too aware of just how many people in the room there are. It’s filled up a bit over the past half hour or so, and while nobody actively ogles you, there’s nothing to stop them glancing up to catch you, naked and with thighs glossy. You buckle at the knees slightly, crouching to close the gap between your legs slightly.

Hoseok tuts. “Don’t go shy on us now, kitten. Arms up.”

Instinctively your hands lift in the air, but you pause. “Sir?”

“Yes, kitten?” He steps forward, close enough that you can just about feel the heat radiating off his body, giving the feeling of confidentiality - even as your two other doms watch you like a hawk behind him.

You swallow hard, lowering your voice to a whisper. “What are you going to do me?” Even asking the question sends a delicious shudder up your spine.

He grins, eyes bright. “That all depends on if you behave for us. Are you gonna be a good slut?” You nod quickly, though a part of you is already planning how you can rile them up while tied down. “Say it, kitten.”

“I’m gonna be a good slut for Sir.”

His grin sharpens into a sneer as he steps back, joining the two others. “I’m not the only one here, remember? Say it to them, too.”

Your hands find each other, wringing them to vent your embarrassment. Namjoon has slipped his hands casually into his pants pockets, and he tips his head to the side with a slight smile, expectant. V maintains his stoic posture as usual and just cocks an eyebrow, arms crossed. You clear your throat, eyes darting once more around the other patrons of the dungeon. “I-I’m gonna be a good slut for Daddy…. And I’m gonna be a good slut for,” your gaze lands on V, too far away for you to be sure, but you think you see his eyes dilate. “Master,” you finish. He gives you the most miniscule nod, you would’ve missed it had you not already been watching him.

“That’s right,” Hoseok affirms, and steps forward again. “Now I won’t ask again. Arms up.”

This time you don’t waste a moment, holding them up in the air over your head, feeling the cold metal of the buckles lightly brush the tops of your hands. You look up with a frown, only to see the fastening points too high up. You look back down with a disappointed pout.

Hoseok is staring at you in bemusement and Namjoon has delicately covered his mouth to laugh, but V just pushes past the two, crouching down suddenly to crank a lever on the cross beside your left foot. You squeak as that platform begins to lift, and to save yourself from tipping over, your hand flies down and steadies yourself on his shoulder. You manage to catch your balance and quickly go to lift off your hand, wary that he might’ve considered it breaking the rules, but his hand darts up the second your fingertips slip away from the leather, wrapping tightly around your wrist.

You freeze in uncertainty, but he simply switches planks and adjusts the other platform so that the two are even, with you higher up than before. Once he’s done, he tips his head up to look at you, and you feel yourself shrink back at the heat of his gaze. Somehow, even though you’re above him, he has a way of exerting his power over you with that one look.

Suddenly, your awareness is brought to the heat between your thighs, and how close he is to it. As if he can read your thoughts, his eyes slip down to stare openly at your exposed pussy. A hot strike of shame makes your toes curl on the wooden platforms as his nostrils flare, and he looks back up at you again with a slow grin.

You take a shuddering breath, bracing yourself for a scathing comment, but he just stands up in one smooth movement, silently taking your wrist up to hold it against the corresponding post, nodding to himself when your wrist slips nicely into the leather cuff. He buckles it efficiently, and you feel your heart pick up when the natural weight of your arm pulls on the tight circlet of leather, reminding you of your vulnerability. Your other arm is hoisted up and attached before you even realise it, rendering you spread-eagled on the cross. Your ankles remain free, but the wrist attachments are still high enough for you that your body is completely stretched out, heels barely brushing the platforms.

He steps back, bends over to murmur something in Namjoon and Hoseok’s ears one at a time, then promptly leaves. You feel an odd stab of disappointment as you watch his receding figure snake through couples and small groups at different stations, until he goes out of sight. “Where’d he go?” you murmur unhappily.

Hoseok frowns and surges forward, raining a sharp swat down on your breast. Your eyes squeeze shut and your hands instinctively jerk, but you’re unable to cover yourself. You startle when he gives the same treatment to the other breast. “What an ungrateful little slut,” you hear him say. “So desperate for another man’s cock. Filthy.”

Another voice from slightly further away, softer. “Are we not enough for you anymore, baby girl?’

You open your eyes and shake your head adamantly. “No, Daddy,” you plead, “I was just curious.”

Namjoon has on an expression he rarely gets. Normally the softer of the two, he now presses his mouth into a tight line and furrows his brow. “And now you’re lying to Daddy,” he comments flatly. “If that greedy pussy of yours isn’t satisfied with two cocks, you should just tell us.”

Your pout deepens. “It isn’t that, Daddy! I was just having fun with three.”

After a moment, the tension in his face clears. “Ah, baby’s just having fun, hm? Special occasion?” You nod sulkily. “Oh, well there’s nothing wrong with that, baby girl. Daddy wants you to have fun. But if you wanna have fun you need to learn to follow the rules. And you didn’t even ask nicely.”

Your chest eases, the crisis averted. “Thank you, Daddy, I’m sorry. Please can you tell me why Master V left?”

Hoseok barks out a quick laugh. “He didn’t leave, kitten, he’s gone out back to get some toys for us to play with.”

You mouth opens and closes, unsure whether you’re allowed to talk back. You take the chance, curiosity getting the better of you. “But Sir, there are so many spare trolleys with toys on them here already.”

“I thought you deserved my personal collection,” a third voice says from your right. You glance over quickly, sticking your face out to see past your forearm, as V returns with what looks like a massive toolbox, metal painted black, and sets it down beside you. “Employee perks,” he explains shortly. “Some of our equipment isn’t safe to be used with untrained individuals for safety reasons. Others I just have a personal preference for.” He’s not speaking to you anymore, rather your two boyfriends. “Has the sub behaved while I’ve been gone?”

Hoseok raises an eyebrow but Namjoon beats him to it. “She most certainly has. Waiting patiently for her reward.” You blink at Namjoon, surprised, but the dark glimmer in his eyes just tells you that you’ll pay for his generosity later.

“Well, then,” V begins, flipping open the catches on the top of the chest, flipping the lid up, “let’s begin.”

You watch in anticipation, muscles in your upper arms twitching as he digs around. You can’t see anything from the way the lid blocks your view, but after a moment he pulls out a bottle of...lube?

“What’s that?” you ask curiously before you can think better of it.

V lets out a bitter scoff, passing the bottle - unlabeled except for a faded E written in Sharpie- to Namjoon, before turning back to his toolbox. “That mouth,” he remarks harshly, “will get you in trouble, little sub.” He lets out a low growl as he rummages around more hastily, and the sound rushes straight to your core, heat flaring. “I don’t even have a gag for you, normally my subs know not to run their mouths around me. Guess I’ll have to make do.”

He straights up, pulling out a long trail of thin rope, soft red nylon looking positively sinful as it runs over his tanned fingers. He loops it a few times, before collecting the bunch, one thick cylinder of rope, about two fingers wide. His lids are low when they focus on you, that proud glimmer long gone. “Open up.” You obey him without thinking, scrunching your nose as he fastens the rope around your head, strands of hair getting pinched between the individual lengths. The girth is enough that your jaw hangs a little open, and you curl your lips and bite down on the rope in an effort to prevent drooling.

“Now, I won’t give you another strike because you were asking a question. But that better be the last time I hear you speaking out of turn. This isn’t fucking Sunday School, I don’t need you asking questions. Look at where you are right now, princess. Tied and gagged, naked with your dripping pussy on full display. We could do whatever the fuck we wanted with you right now. Your pretty little boyfriends could leave right now to get an early night and leave you in my hands. Maybe I’d get sick of your attitude and walk away myself, leaving you available to anyone who wanted to play with you. How long do you think it would take a DM to notice the sub that was getting fucked by everyone in the room, hm?” You shudder, core clenching, as you remember the pure arousal that hit you when you felt V’s unfamiliar hands on your ass back at the bar. Your eyes slip shut at the thought, and you hear a chuckle. “You continue to surprise me, little sub. It seems that no matter what I say or do as punishment you go weak at the knees. I’ll have to think on how I’ll discipline you properly. In the meantime,” he breaks away from you to walk back to your boyfriends, patting Namjoon on the shoulder. “Like we discussed?”

You tilt your head at this comment, though Namjoon and Hoseok both nod, the latter biting his lip with a dark look in his eyes. As the two approach you, V falls behind, using the toolbox as a stool, legs splayed across the carpet lazily. You turn your attention back to your boyfriends, who have stopped at the foot of the cross, one to either side.

Namjoon lazily thumbs the cap open and closed; with every plastic click, you feel your core clench. He smiles at you, eyes glittering. “Most patrons of the dungeon don’t get to play with the toys we’re gonna play with, baby girl. We had to come here last week for a safety briefing.” You lower your brows in confusion and your boyfriend stays in character, tipping his head to the side innocently even as his eyes glitter with amusement. “What, did we not tell you that? Jay, did you tell our girl what we were preparing for?”

Hoseok’s eyes are nearly black. He doesn’t turn to Namjoon when he’s addressed, eyes heavy on you. “I guess I must’ve forgot,” he replies flatly, not even attempting to convincingly lie. “Wanna guess where we’re gonna put it?” His lip curls in amusement as you stare it him, hands tied and mouth gagged. He laughs darkly. “Oh, that’s right. You can’t. I suppose you’ll just have to sit back and take it, hm?” He takes the lube back off Namjoon and steps even closer, until you can see the shimmer of sweat on his temples and some strands on his hairline sticking to it.

You groan around the rope, steadily growing soaked with your spit. Tentatively, you push your hips forward as much as you can off the wood of the cross, whimpering in question. Hoseok, head ducked as he cracks open the bottle and squeezes some lube onto his fingers, misses it but your other boyfriend just chuckles.

“Not that greedy pussy of yours, baby girl,” he teases, “it’s so sloppy we wouldn’t need any lube at all. No, this is for those pretty little nipples of yours.”

You shudder, ass falling back to smack against the planks again. You moan out a word around the gag, though, as Hoseok’s slicked-up hands latch around your stiff buds, you know they all understand you. Why?

Namjoon’s eyes light up. “Do you know what the E on the bottle stands for, baby girl?” When he says the next word, he enunciates every syllable, the harsh sounds of the consonants cracking in his mouth, sending shivers down your spine. “Electric.”

As if rehearsed, V stands up off the chest, swinging his leg aside to open it back up, digging in deep and pulling out what looks like an electrical cord; the flat, black ribbon splitting off into two and ending on either end in delicate peg-like contraptions. Nipple clamps. You take a deep breath, chest soaring. Nipple clamps were one of your favorite toys to use in the bedroom. Many a time, even in your more vanilla forays, you’d bat your eyelashes and press out your chest and ask one of your boyfriends to pretty please put on the clamps, even just for a little bit, but you were used to bright silver, not this sleek black. You watch in curiosity as V ducks down again, pulling out what appears to be a remote - a rounded, roughly egg-shaped device that fits comfortably in his hand. Electric. Your jaw goes slack around the spit-slick ropes in your mouth. Your eyes are heavy on those two black pegs as they sway loosely in the air, and you feel yourself tremble, the muscles in your thighs weaker than they were before.

Hoseok’s fingers, still slightly cold from the air in the room, feel even more stimulating as they tweak your buds, coaxing them into stiff peaks as the lube makes it difficult for him to get a grasp. You suck in a harsh breath through your nose as he slips and scratches a fingernail across the top of one, your eyes finally breaking from the nipple clamps and onto him as he apologetically pats your breast with a rakish grin.

Without looking, he accepts the proffered toy, wrapping ring-laden fingers around the remote as he jokingly snaps one of the clamps in his other hand, opening and closing it like a tiny set of jaws. Slipping the black device into his pocket, he stands directly in front of you, slightly taller than you even as you’re raised on the platform of the cross, and licks his lips teasingly.

“This is how it’s going to go, kitten,” he instructs in a sultry tone, “we’re going to put these on, have a little fun. But you’re not allowed to cum, okay? A good girl always asks first.” You narrow your eyebrows at him, huffing around your makeshift gag, and his eyes light up, tip of his tongue remaining just past his teeth as he chuckles. “Mm, you can’t exactly ask if you’ve got that thing in your mouth, now can you?” You shake your head obediently, hoping he can read the pleading look in your eyes. “Maybe I’ll take it off later.”

Your shoulders droop. You let out a disappointed whine, but your boyfriend just laughs at you, shifting his focus down to your breasts as he palms one roughly, a thumb stroking over the nipple before he’s bringing the toy up to it without ceremony.

You crane your neck down, moaning as the sight of him affixing the black clamp to your glistening nipple is paired with the delicious pressure it brings. Your head tips back again, eyes falling shut in bliss as, for the first time in the evening, you receive some decent stimulation. You let out a groan, hands balling uselessly into fists high above your head as your other nipple receives the same treatment. You can’t help but whimper, back arching to follow him as he deftly tugs on the electrical ribbon between the two, ensuring they’re fastened correctly, but no doubt also doing it just to watch you squirm.

“That feel good, kitten?”

You garble affirmation and nod, moaning again as he continues to play with the cord, a dozen teasing flicks of his wrist to keep the warmth of pressure on your nipples rising. All is still for a moment, and you crack your eyes open to see Hoseok falling back to stand beside V, letting your other boyfriend take his place.

Your attention is immediately caught by the object he’s lazily tossing back and forth between his hands. A slender, curved vibrator. Your eyes light up, and it’s clear he sees the apparent joy on your face as he approaches.

“I did say this was a reward, baby girl,” Namjoon reminds you, looking sharp as ever in his dress shirt. His straining erection is clear to see even through the black pants, and a quick glance to Hoseok shows you he’s faring the same. You had hoped their desperation would have led to their cocks being inside you already, but you would happily settle for a vibrator, as long as something was filling you. Surreptitiously, you sneak a look over to V’s crotch as well, a dark glee lighting up inside you when you see the outline of a bulge running halfway down his thigh. Holy shit.

You swear your heart stops for a second when you look away, only to be faced with V himself as he stares you down, clearly having seen you ogle him. You sigh, muffled through the wet rope, as you feel smooth silicone slip between your soaked folds, but you can’t break your gaze from the man sitting atop his box of toys.

Languidly, like he has all the time in the world, the dark-haired man rests a hand on his thigh, and lets a single finger lay right where his head sits underneath the fabric, and swirls it, gently outlining his own erection, a promise of what could be to come. Your mouth waters even more, and the only thing that pulls you back is a sudden onslaught of sensation; somehow, as though they were timing it while you were distracted, Namjoon plunges the vibrator to the hilt inside of you just as an odd yet intense tingle in your nipples makes your very nerve endings shiver.

You let out a surprised yelp, smothered by the gag in your mouth, and flinch as the cord between your breasts is yanked roughly, very nearly dislodging the clamps with how vigorous the motion is. Your gaze shoots in front of you to Namjoon, the normally reserved demeanor alight with something deeper, something more possessive.

“Do we need to take him away?” Namjoon asks in a sharp tone. Without looking, without changing his stern expression at all, he flattens his palm against the base of the vibrator and presses, twisting it inside you, as deep as it can get. You whine lowly, attempting to rise on the tips of your toes to escape the sudden stretch, but he simply reaches out and grips your chin tightly. “Yes or no,” he spits out, “do we need to take him away or will you start behaving for us?”

You sniff as the base of his palm barely misses your clit, but articulate a vaguely disyllabic answer, asking for the latter.

“You promise to behave?” he confirms, and you hum your agreement. “Well then, I’m sick of your eyes being on him when you should be focussing on me. On us. Understood?” He releases your jaw so that you can nod in response. “Good. Now, before we continue, I want this gag off. I’m sick of you blabbering like a baby when I ask you a question.”

Simultaneous rage and humiliation flare in you at the statement, but you stay silent, all too relieved to finally be freeing your mouth. The ropes have been getting heavier as your spit is absorbed, and when he finally undoes the knots, accidentally ripping out a few hair strands with them, your jaw aches as you close it again, muscles sore from being held wide for some time. You lick your lips to soothe them and swallow the saliva that’s been pooling in your mouth, but your relief is only enjoyed for a few moments before Namjoon continues.

This time, instead of grinding the vibrator inside you - sadly still turned off - he begins thrusting it, gently tugging at the nipple clamps one at a time, or flicking them with his finger to get you to whimper. Your sounds are so much louder without the muffling, and you find yourself trying to keep your mouth shut, moans bubbling in the back of your throat as he strikes your g-spot with each thrust, the gentle curve in the silicon rubbing against that spongy tissue.

“Good?” he asks simply, picking up the pace as your abs clench with the urge to grind against the intrusion.

“Y-good,” you make out between pleasured whimpers, whole body shuddering when the sparks of electricity return, a lower intensity level but in regular thrumming instead of a single pulse. The stimulation merges with the vibrator inside you, warming your whole body with pleasure, but something is missing. “Turn it on,” you breathe out desperately, before adding a belated, “please, Daddy.”

Namjoon’s lip quirks in satisfaction. “My baby girl is so needy. Can you promise not to cum for me?”

You pout in disappointment. “Daddy…” But he doesn’t back down. “Yes, okay, I won’t cum, Daddy. Can Hoseokie come over too?”

“Ask him, princess.” While Namjoon waits, he takes out the vibrator with a wet noise and you hum unhappily at the emptiness in your core.

You bite your lip, turning to the man behind Namjoon with a glint in your eye. “Sir, please come touch me. I need you.”

Hoseok, always the one to be a little more susceptible to begging, makes his way forward, absentmindedly tapping the bulge in his pocket where the remote is. He smiles softly at the puppy dog eyes you send him, as you arch your chest enticingly.

You return it, though your smile quickly turns mischievous. The cool varnished wood of the cross has calmed down the sting in your ass, and you’re feeling like you could do with some more punishment. Besides, your arms are starting to ache from being held up so long. “Good boy.”

The warmth in his expression drops in an instant, and his lip curls. Like lightning, his hand dives into his pocket and you yelp as a sharp bite of electricity runs through your nipples and through your whole chest, making you tremble violently as your muscles contract.

“Okay,” you hear V say quickly, standing up off the chest and rushing over to you. As your shivers continue, you feel him firmly grab a hold of the black electrical ribbon between your breasts and tugs roughly, yanking the clamps right off your overstimulated nipples. You howl and instinctively try to curl in on yourself, the leather cuffs digging painfully into your wrists. You can see the hard lines of anger in his face, and duck your head, turning your face slightly to the side as you await punishment, but it seems the leather-clad man isn’t annoyed at you.

He stalks over to Hoseok, who has stepped back a little in confusion, and shoves his hand without ceremony into the other’s pants, drawing out the remote and chucking the two items back into his chest, kicking it shut with a metallic slam. Whirling back around, he draws his chest up, looking unbelievably intimidating even over your boyfriend. “Never,” he spits, “ever take your anger out on a sub, no matter how bratty she may be. Yes, she deserves punishment for acting out and we’ll give it to her but that doesn’t mean you can use her as a punching bag.” With a jaw clenched bitterly, V shakes his head. “This is why I don’t let non-professionals use my equipment. Lesson fucking learned, I suppose.”

You watch with wide eyes as he approaches you slowly, hands on his hips. “Colour,” he requests quietly.

You swallow, eyes darting to your boyfriend, whose eyes are on you, rueful. Namjoon stands beside him, hand on his shoulder, and leans in to whisper quietly. “Green,” you say after a moment. “Yellow then, but green now.”

V nods after a moment, gaze running over every inch of your body thoroughly, paying close attention to the angry red of your nipples. “Alright. We continue, without any electric play.” Taking the slick vibrator off Namjoon, he chucks it into a plastic bag inside the chest that you can just make out a label on that reads ‘to be cleaned’. He stands over the box of toys for a moment, considering, before turning back around, glaring at you. You gasp, feeling that the scene is back in full swing now. “And the sub. It’s clear to me no matter what equipment I use on her, she drips for it.” You push your lips into a scowl when you realise, though his eyes are heavy on you, he’s addressing your boyfriends instead. “Maybe the problem here is that she enjoys the punishment she gets from you so much that she acts out constantly to receive it. Of course punishment can be fun, but when she’s as out of line as she is now, you need to teach her a lesson. So, if toys won’t work, we’ll try something else. Someone else.”

Your back straightens and your gaze trains on him warily. You have to bite your tongue to hold back a retort, and his eyes dance gleefully at the way you clench your jaw.

“Jay, RM, it seems to me that your sub likes being punished so much because you’re the ones who will give it to her. So, with your permission, we’re going to be changing it up.”

Your mouth drops open in indignation as the two nod calmly. “What about my permission?”

With a dark glare, V reaches out and grabs tightly onto one of your abused nipples, making you wince at the pinching sensation. “This far into the evening and you still can’t stop running your mouth. If you recall, sub, involving other individuals in play was something you ticked off on your application.”

You can’t help yourself. “Not for punishment, though,” you counter in a low whine.

His eyebrows lower. “I’ll keep the play safe, but beyond that I have no sympathy for you, you little brat. Use your safeword, otherwise it’s in your best interests to start following the rules.”

You smother your pout with another scowl and turn your head to the side, biting hard on the inside of your cheek when he releases your nipple with a final tweak and the blood rushes back in achingly.

He waits for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh when you remain silent. “Fine, then. We’re going to go find someone who wants to play, and you can just wait right here.”

In shock, your head snaps back and you look out onto the room, at all the people playing and watching. If your doms left, you wouldn’t be able to fend them off. Your heart rate increases, and you send your boyfriends a concerned look.

V catches it, and grins. “Don’t worry,” he remarks smugly as he reaches into his back pocket, “we won’t leave you up here alone. My friend Jimin over there is a DM, he’s been supervising us all night in case you hadn’t noticed. He’ll come stand by you while we’re gone.”

You look off in the direction the dom nods in and see a blonde-haired young man in the black shirt and neon badge, strolling over from the corner of the room closest to your station. He sees you staring and throws you a rakish grin, lifting an arm to run a hand through his hair cockily. God, you think, he better not want to make conversation while I’m stuck up here.

A plastic click draws your attention back in front of you, where V has what looks like a felt pen. “Washable ink,” he explains, “just to be safe.” You go completely still as he brings it forward to draw it in swoops across your chest, over the tops of your breasts. The tip of the pen tickles, and the ink is cool, a bright purple. Once he draws back and caps the pen, you draw your chin into your chest to try and make sense of the large block letters. It takes you a moment to reverse them in your mind, but you suck in a breath through your teeth when you work it out. TAKEN.

As you try and read, he speaks once more. “Wiggle your fingers,” he instructs calmly, and you look up, doing as he asks with a tinge of confusion. “And make a fist.” You do that two, feeling the very tips of your fingers are a little numb, otherwise the rest of you is fine. You realise he’s checking in to make sure the blood hasn’t completely left your extremities from being held above your head. As always, he manages to uphold safety without impairing the scene. Without further comment, he turns from you, converses quietly with the DM, and leaves, your two boyfriends in tow.

Left alone with the stranger, you watch warily as he sighs out and takes a seat on the carpet in front of you, kicking out his legs. “Ah,” he hums happily, stretching his arms in front of his chest. “This is the first time I’ve sat down all night. Standing sure gets tiring.” With a cheeky smile, he glances up at you. “Although I don’t need to tell you that.”

You simply stare at him quietly, unsure if you’re still on the ‘don’t speak unless you’re spoken to’ mode. Though, to be fair, you haven’t exactly been following that much tonight. “So, your name’s Jimin?” you ask after a moment.

He lets out a surprised laugh at your attempt at small-talk. “You know, normally the subs Tae gets me to supervise- ah fuck, V - normally the subs V gets me to supervise are way more timid than you. You a sucker for pain or something?”

Looking out onto the multiple stations in front of you, you shrug as much as you can within the restraints. “When in Rome.”

He runs his tongue over his teeth, eyes roaming over you. “God, the one day I’m DM-ing...” He looks out and perks up. “Fuck, that was fast. I guess they had no problem finding someone interested.”

Your eyes dart out into the crowd, craning your neck to glance around a few people watching a nearby scene, searching for your boyfriends or V. In front of you, Jimin is standing up hastily and brushing the seat of his pants, and you curse the fact that you can’t get up on tippy-toes to look over him.

“Nice to meet you,” he farewells cordially. He holds his arm out for a handshake and then realizes his mistake, shaking his head in embarrassment and turning away, quickly rushing back over to his corner. Your eyes widen as he leaves prematurely, glancing around to make sure no strangers approach, when you see the familiar broad frame of your boyfriend returning to you, his grin big even as his eyes are lidded with lust.

You smile at him warmly. Even five minutes without Namjoon makes your heart swell when you see him again, and you wiggle your hands in a grabby motion, making his dimple pop out when he smiles. There’s something else though, a sly quirk to his lips, and it makes you pause.

Behind him is Hoseok, wearing a look of satisfaction and contained excitement, and you can’t quite see past the two to see who might be following them.

As they get closer, you see V, but he’s a decent few paces back, and you don’t understand the distance, until you see a glimpse of bleached hair just past Hoseok’s shoulder. Your two boyfriends split up once they break through the lingering people, and step inside the station, one on either side of you, but further away than you’d like.

The owner of the pale hair is revealed as he walks through the two of you and you gasp in shock. Not at him, but at the man behind him. You have to lower your gaze quite a bit, because he’s crawling on his hands and knees, neck craned up to look at the light-haired man in adoration.

The two of them make quite the pair; the dom is wearing slick clothes, tight pants, a black turtleneck and leather jacket, and his hair is brushed back to reveal darker brows, undyed. Though he’s much smaller than any of the men around him, including the one that follows him like a dog, he has an undeniable presence, with the borderline apathetic yet critical gaze he adopts as he looks over you, head tilting to the side. He comes to a stop in front of you, and his sub remains slightly behind him and to the left. With thickly corded muscles in his arms and shoulders, he looks physically like he could pick any one of you up one-handed, yet he waits patiently on his hands and knees, looking unexpectedly soft with a baby face and a delicate garter set for underwear that accentuates his delicate waist.

“Position,” the standing man says in a barked command. Like clockwork, the sub sits back up to kneel, hands resting gently on his thick thighs and head bent down respectfully. As he waits, you can see a band of leather around his throat, studded with what almost looks like diamonds. “Good boy,” he praises, even though he doesn’t lift his gaze off of you. Still, the sub visibly trembles at the praise, toes wiggling happily on the carpet behind him.

V arrives last, and rests a hand warmly on the stranger’s shoulder. “Sub, pay attention.” The young man kneeling glances up, and a fond boxy smile rises on V’s face, one you only saw once after you took your spanking. A strange unfurling of jealousy opens in your chest. “Not you, slave. Eyes on the floor.” The slave quickly drops his head, trembling again when the dom reaches out to pat his cheek, like a sign that he’s not in trouble.

Master V keeps his gaze on you as he squeezes the shoulder of the man beside him. “Sub, this is Master Min, and his slave Koo.” Turning to your boyfriends to include them as well, he addresses the doms. “As discussed, I think the sub could benefit from a positive example of a good sub. Of course, she doesn’t have to do all the things Koo does, every dynamic is different, but she could learn a lot from his behaviour. More than that, Koo is much like her in what he likes, but he and Min have incorporated it into play so that it doesn’t require punishment to get what he needs. Perhaps your girl is such a brat because she’s feeling unfulfilled. RM, Jay, you can get her down.”

“Down?” you mumble without realising, luckily quiet enough that the others don’t overhear. With a confused frown on your face, you let your boyfriends unbuckle you from the cross, wrists first. Your shoulder muscles ache when you lower your arms, and thick red bands line the skin of your wrists, which you thumb at with a smile while they bend down to undo your ankles.

“Lean on me, kitten,” Hoseok instructs softly, and you wrap your arms around him tightly, letting him grip your ass and pick you up off the cross gently so you don’t fall. He lowers his torso so that your dangling feet drag on the carpet, but you whine and lift them, linking your ankles around his back so that you’re latched on like a koala. He laughs softly at your whine. “You don’t wanna walk, hm?” You shake your head, thriving at the physical contact even as your bared pussy soaks the bottom of his white tank top. He pats your hair, and your heart warms. Especially after he was so angry at you earlier, the intimacy feels more than comforting. “You might want to stretch your legs, though, before we move on…” He trails off teasingly, and you draw your face up, seeing the mischief in his eyes.

With a pout, you let your legs lower to the ground, supporting your weight steadily before you take your arms off of Hoseok’s shoulders. You look around at the others, awaiting further explanation.

Namjoon steps forward, sharing a glance with V and then Hoseok before cupping your face softly. “We’re gonna go watch Min and Koo play, okay? They’re gonna show you how to be a good sub for us.”

“Where do you want to do your scene?” V asks Min.

The dom glances down at his sub, who still has his neck bent, dark hair glossy from the lights overhead. “Koo,” Min calls softly but firmly, and the young man looks up immediately. “Do you want to pick which station we go to?”

With doe-like eyes, Koo shakes his head. “No, Master. Wan’ you to pick.”

“Uh-uh,” the dom chastises with a tut, “we talked about this. Big boys choose when they get offered. Don’t make me regret my generosity.”

“Sorry, Master,” he replies quickly, “Kookie would like the bed tonight.”

“Alright, then. Go check if it’s free for us first. You may walk.”

Almost reluctantly, the sub stands up, and you widen your eyes at just how tall he is, rising above his master to almost match Namjoon’s height. If it wasn’t for the way he clasps his hands together and ducks his head so submissively, and if it wasn’t for the collar around his neck and the garters on his thighs, you could easily mistake him for a dom. Physical appearance wasn’t everything, you supposed.

As you wait, V disappears too, mentioning something about more equipment he needed, and by the time a DM comes over and lets you know that Koo has found and reserved a bed on the second floor, he still hasn’t returned. Min offers to flick him a text, and after you’re allowed to put your skirt and bra back on, the four of you walk through the middle of the room to reach the set of stairs at the far corner beside the bar. All of upstairs is like a mezzanine floor around the edges of the room, with doors that go off into separate rooms. With Namjoon on your left and Hoseok on your right, you ascend the stairs, taking the left path to walk around the mezzanine. Each door is labelled: medical A, medical B, dungeon A, filming A, and so on, but you’re taken by what you can glimpse over the protective barriers, looking down onto the first floor.

You can see all the different stations from up here, all the people who occupy them. The bar reaches out in a semicircle, with curved rows of stations flowing out like petals or ripples, the smaller ones closer to that social area, and the biggest ones along the walls. There are more people than before, probably close to capacity, so it’s a wonder Koo managed to find exactly what he wanted without it already being taken.

As you walk, you can feel the obscene slick between your thighs, wetting all the way down to the sides of your knees. It feels uncomfortable, though nothing like the remaining fire of your nipples as they rub slightly against the fabric of your bra. More than anything, though, you still feel so needy, so wanting. Though there aren’t any clocks in the room downstairs, much like a casino, you managed to glance at Min’s watch as he strolled, and see that it had been over two and a half hours since the three of you first arrived, and you still hadn’t been even close to cumming. And now V was making you sit down and watch other people fuck instead of you. You were starting to realise just how clever he was with his punishments.

Distracted, you almost bump into Min as he halts in front of a door, which has a plaque at eye level reading ‘domestic’. He knocks, and instead of Koo answering the door like you expect, it’s V. You widen your eyes and follow the men inside the room in curiosity, wondering what equipment it was exactly that he had left to retrieve.

It’s immediately obvious. In the soft, romantic, bedroom-styled set, one thing stands out like a sore thumb. Past the foot of the bed, closer to the opposite wall, is a chair covered in undone leather straps. The black leather and silver buckles are totally at odds with the warm neutral shades of the room, and the soft, freshly washed linen and blankets on the large bed. More so than that, however, what really draws your attention is the hole cut out in the base, and the dildo that sticks through, attached to what can be described as nothing else but a machine, a motor which is plugged in to an electrical socket on the wall. The two back legs have wheels attached to them, so that should you tip the chair back, you can roll it around rather than having to lift it. All-in-all, it looks extremely expensive and extremely intimidating. You swallow down the saliva that collects in your mouth at the sight of it.

Other than the fucking machine, the other notable accessory is the sub kneeling beside the bed. He doesn’t look up when you all file in the room, even as his fingers curl into the lush carpet when he hears his master’s voice.

“Good boy, Koo,” Min praises warmly, “such a well-behaved slave tonight. Are you being extra good for our guests?” His eyes crinkle in satisfaction as the boy’s thick hair bobs with his enthusiastic nodding. Min approaches him, placing a hand on the sub’s cheek to lift his face up. He runs his fingers over Koo’s lips, who obediently opens his mouth, tongue flat. The dom places two fingers inside, slowly sliding them deeper in, up to his knuckles. “Are you gonna keep behaving for me?”

Koo’s eyes are wide, and you can see the way his nostrils flare as he breathes in through his nose, trying not to gag. Instead of nodding, he gargles out an affirmative hum, and Min’s lip curls proudly, drawing his fingers out and wiping the spit off on Koo’s cheek, the younger boy’s eyes fluttering shut even as his mouth still hangs slightly open.

“Kitten,” you hear Hoseok say, drawing your attention back to him. He has an evil glint in his eye as he grins. “Don’t you wanna rest those pretty little legs of yours? You must be feeling so weak. Why don’t you take a seat?” He gestures grandly to the elaborate contraption across from the bed, and although he’s stating it as a joke, you know it’s nothing less than a command.

With shaky legs, you walk over, hovering uncertainly. V steps forward, manually rotates the wheel so that the dildo lowers past the base of the chair, and lets you sit. Your skirt is so short that there’s no cover at all, and you can feel the very tip of the cold silicone brush over your folds. Once you put your back directly against the chair, and let your feet loosely rest on the carpet, you adjust your hips slightly so that it’s pressing against your entrance, and you glance up at your boyfriends for approval, feeling the budding excitement and nerves in your chest.

Namjoon comes over to help V do up the buckles, starting to bind your legs to the chair. “Now, baby girl,” he says conversationally, “Master Min and his slave are very kindly letting us watch them, so you better be a good girl and enjoy the show quietly. I’m sure you can learn something from Koo here.” He stands back up again, leaning over to fasten your left arm as V does the right, and soon enough you’re completely immobile for the second time in the evening. Namjoon grips your inner thigh, massaging the flesh with a humored smile. “And don’t forget, no cumming without permission.”

He reaches behind you, lifting something off the back of the chair, attached by a cord. You look over, to see something akin to a half-sized TV remote, with several settings and options. He winks at you, and presses one, watching between your legs carefully.

You gasp and tense up when the dildo begins to move, pressing up into you unbelievably slowly. Even though it penetrates you at a glacial pace, clearly just to make sure you’re at the right angle to take it safely, it’s an odd sensation having something push up into you so unforgivingly. No matter how hard you clench, it breaches your walls deeper and deeper, until just when it’s about to be too far, it begins to recede again. You let out a heaving sigh as it slowly pulls out of you, before coming to a stop.

“Good?” he questions, though you know by the way you’re already angling your hips better against it that he can see you are enjoying it. Nonetheless, you nod, and he hums happily. “Alright. Now we’re gonna sit quietly and nicely and watch these two gentlemen, okay?”

You go to nod again but let out a surprised yelp as he steps right behind you and tips the chair back. You feel your chest lurch as the legs slip out from under you, but they stop when you reach a 45-degree angle, and slowly you’re rolled a little closer, facing the two men directly. More chairs are pulled up; Namjoon and V on one side of you and Hoseok on the other.

Your hands grip the arms of the chair tightly, fighting the urge to reach out to your boyfriends, who barely give you a second glance, though Namjoon’s hand slips behind your hair to rest on the nape of your neck, the weight of it as both a comfort and a reminder of who was in control here. You tilt your head back and hum happily as his thumb lazily rubs back and forth, keeping you calm.

In front of you, Min takes one last look out to make sure you’re all seated, before turning back to look down at his slave. “Koo, why is that mouth of yours still open?” The younger shuts his mouth quickly with a barely-audible pop, and swallows, eyes as wide as ever. “Does it feel empty, hm? Want something between those pretty lips of yours?”

The sub nods, thighs clenching with visible excitement as Min sits on the edge of the bed beside him and spreads his legs. Though you notice the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips, he remains still kneeling patiently. All it takes is a nod from his master, however, for Koo to dart forward, hands fumbling eagerly at Min’s belt, tugging it through the belt loops of his pants so voraciously that Min’s hips almost get pulled off the mattress. You widen your eyes at just how spirited Koo is about sucking someone else off. As much as you didn’t mind giving your boyfriends blowjobs, you would always much rather their cocks somewhere else. But as you sit tied to the chair, the threat of the blunt tip of the dildo resting dormant between your outer folds, you feel a heat build in your stomach at the display of total devotion.

As Min lifts his hips to help Koo pull down his pants and underwear, not a moment is lost before the submissive wraps his lips around him and sucks him down as far as he can manage on the first go. Min’s chest heaves with a surprised huff, and a lazy grin tugs at his lips. “That’s it, good boy,” he breathes through a sigh of pleasure, and even though the comment is clearly not directed at you, you feel yourself dripping with need.

You turn your head to the side, towards Namjoon. As you do so, his hand comes around to brush fondly at your cheek. Rather than verbalising it, you wiggle your hips slightly against the chair and the dildo below and pout pleadingly at him. He flicks you a genial smile and takes his hand away from your face to fiddle with the controls.

Your mouth drops open silently when you feel the dildo push up into you, at least twice the speed of the tester run, though still slow enough that it makes no noise.

A violent shiver breaks goosebumps across your arms as you feel a warm breath waft against your opposite shoulder. “Don’t forget to keep quiet,” you hear Hoseok remind you. When you look over to face him, your noses bump, and even as your heart skips a beat at the proximity, you’re leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips.

Half-expecting him to pull away, you feel your insides go weak when he indulges you, slipping a hand around your neck where Namjoon’s was earlier to pull you closer, grounding you with deep swipes of his tongue even as the dildo fucks up into you on it’s slow yet insistent cycle. If you arch your back just right, you can get it to brush against your g-spot when it enters you, and your breath picks up, kisses growing sloppier as you begin to regularly grind against it, quiet moans smothered by Hoseok’s mouth.

When he finally pulls away, you blink open your eyes in just enough time to see a fat string of saliva between you, which stretches until it breaks, spattering on your chin. Hoseok gently shifts his hand to grip your jaw, guiding your attention back onto the two men in front of you.

You suck your slightly swollen bottom lip into your mouth to muffle a groan at what you’re greeted by. Min has a hand firmly bunched in Koo’s hair, holding him down onto his cock as the sub writhes and clutches at Min’s knees, whining. After a moment of struggling, Koo is pulled off him by the grip on his hair, and he sucks in heaved gasps of air, eyes watering. Through the involuntary tears, you can see the same hazy look in Koo’s eyes that you sometimes saw on yourself when you went to the bathroom to clean up after a scene with your boyfriends. It’s clear to you that even as he gurgles and trembles helplessly when he’s pushed back down, he’s loving it, and his gaze doesn’t leave Min for a second. Above him, though lidded with pleasure, you can see the adoration and fondness in Min’s eyes too. It’s undeniable just how much they love each other.

Your breath catches in your throat as the pace is suddenly picked up on the machine, a gentle metallic whir piercing the lull on your end of the room, and your gaze shoots over to Namjoon as the dildo rocks up into you fast enough for you to begin to shiver. When you do, you see it’s not Namjoon that has the remote, but V beside him. With one arched eyebrow, like he’s testing you, V holds a single finger up to his lips and mouths ‘shh’.

Your nails dig into the wood of the chair, and you bite down harshly on your tongue to prevent any moans escaping, nodding shakily. His eyes sparkle with mirth as he smiles, handing the remote back to Namjoon. Your eyes follow the transfer and look up at your boyfriend’s face, but he’s more focussed on what’s going on in front of you, a confused turn to his lips.

You stare forward, and see that the two have changed positions slightly. Barely coherent with the fucking machine driving up into you at an infuriatingly regular and unforgiving pace, you do your best to focus in to what’s going on.

Min is still on the edge of the bed, however he’s leaning down as Koo whispers something in his ear, ducking his head shyly once he’s done. Min sighs, but gives his sub a warm smile and gently pinches at his nose and pats his cheek, looking up at the four of you.

You let out an involuntary guttural whine when the dildo comes to a sudden stop, halfway inside you. Your walls clench around the couple of inches still inside, too shallow to get any real pleasure, but too deep to be able to rock your clit against it. It seems Namjoon has turned it off while V stands up and consults with Min.

You stare, thighs clenching and unclenching at the strange and unsatisfying sensation of the dildo. After a moment, V returns, walking leisurely over to the wall and unplugging the machine. Your mouth drops open in confusion.

“Sorry it’s such a quick show, folks, Kookie is apparently getting a bit shy.” Min tucks himself away and crouches down to press a soft peck to the younger man’s pink cheeks. “We don’t get to come here that often, I think he just wants all my attention on him, isn’t that right?”

Koo’s teeth come out to bite at his lip, failing to suppress a sheepish smile. Caught out, he nods cheekily.

Min weakly slaps his cheek, a playful scolding. “Well, you’ll get your wish, Kookie. The others are going to leave now. You wanna give them a kiss goodbye and say thank you?”

The sub is granted permission to stand up, and bounds over to press a quick kiss on V’s cheek, then Namjoon’s, before he reaches you. His eyes widen at your state, eyes hazed with pleasure and bare pussy leaking down the opening in the chair, and does a double take like he hadn’t noticed it before. Lightning fast, he ducks down and quickly presses his lips against the top of your cheekbone. You turn your head slightly to receive it, his lips unbelievably soft and still a little wet from saliva. He murmurs a quick, “thank you for watching” in your ear and moves on, doing the same to Hoseok before returning to his master, standing until he’s given the command to get on the bed beside him.

Koo quietly leans into Min’s clothed-chest and lets the older one wrap his arm around his shoulders, keeping him close. The two stay entwined like that, conversing under their breath, as your doms stand up and begin to unbuckle you from the chair, carefully lifting you off of the dildo.

You let out a grateful hum as Namjoon effortlessly lifts you into his arms, one hand under your ass, where your arousal has totally soaked the back of your short skirt. You feel more than hear him speak with the others, as his chest rumbles against your ear, and you let your eyes fall closed, wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly and snuggling in. Perhaps it was seeing the tenderness between the two men you had just watched, but you felt your bratty streak begin to settle down, just wanting to be close with your boyfriends.

You hear a door open, and suddenly you’re moving as Namjoon walks out. You let out a groan. “‘S it over?” you mumble into the warm skin of the crook of his neck, breathing in his natural musk paired with the simple cologne he had put on earlier in the night.

He chuckles. “No, baby girl. We’ll find somewhere else to go. Do you still want to keep playing? It is getting quite late.”

You sit up, blinking at your surroundings as they lurch around him, making your way back around the mezzanine towards the stairs. “I wanna keep playing, Daddy. Where’s Hoseokie?”

“That’s Sir to you,” you hear a voice from over your back call out. Hoseok must be leading the group. You clutch onto Namjoon tighter as you begin to descend the steps to the main playroom. “I don’t know if we’ll be able to find a station, kitten. It’s closing time soon so most of them are taken or blocked off for cleaning.”

“Let’s just fuck on the floor,” you quip back, reveling in the hearty laugh that shakes Namjoon’s shoulders.

“As much as I liked seeing you at our mercy, I have missed your snark, princess,” your boyfriend admits. “Bear with the no-speaking rule when V is around for tonight, and we can rework our rules tomorrow.”

You hum, wiggling your toes as the strength gradually returns to your limbs. “Where is V?”

Hoseok’s voice is thick with humour. “Weren’t you listening, little sub?” He laughs as you kick out weakly at the pet name your ‘Master’ had chosen to use. “He got called away. Something about helping out a sub that came alone or something.”

“Oh.” You can’t quite work out if what you’re feeling is dissatisfaction at still not having cum the entire night or disappointment that the other man left without saying goodbye. “Where are we gonna play, then?”

Namjoon grunts with exertion. “Okay, down you hop.” You do as he says, joints stiff as you slip in front of him to follow behind Hoseok. Namjoon’s voice continues from behind you. “We’re going to find that Jimin dude and ask if he knows of any free spots. Keep an eye out for him, baby girl.”

The use of ‘baby girl’ rather than just ‘baby’ gently reinforces you that the roles are still in place. Although having to move locations, your two boyfriends - as well as you - clearly want the scene to continue. “Yes, Daddy,” you affirm compliantly.

It takes a couple of times circling and winding between stations before you spot him. He’s not in that same corner from before, but instead you find him at the bar, nursing a glass bottle of coke. He looks up in mild interest as you approach, before widening his eyes once he recognises the three of you.

“V’s studious apprentices,” he greets warmly, eyes lingering on the wetness on your thighs visible past the hem of your skirt. “How may I be of assistance?”

Like it’s choreographed, Namjoon and Hoseok both reach out to touch you; Hoseok, slipping his fingers into yours, and Namjoon placing his hand possessively around your shoulders. You smother a smirk at the way Jimin’s eyes dart up and waver back and forth, sizing the two doms up before his shoulders lower in defeat.

“We just wanted to see if there were any free stations,” Hoseok explains. “I figured if your job is to supervise, you’d know.” Hoseok takes another glance at the languid curve of Jimin’s body as he leans against the bench, and the coke bottle dripping condensation over his fingers. The unspoken implication of Hoseok’s statement hangs in the air, as your two boyfriends share a look over your shoulder.. When he thinks your boyfriends aren’t looking, the DM flicks you a cheeky wink. The moment the two men turn back, his face falls frigid again.

“I’m on break,” Jimin explains petulantly, gesturing to the neon badge which has been unclipped from his shirt and is resting beside the cardboard coaster. “But no, sadly there aren’t. The last hour and a half before closing is our busiest time since everyone figures it’s their last chance to get in a scene. We do have five different stations in the process of being cleaned, though.” Using the neck of the half-empty bottle to point, the DM indicates a few different spots that are cordoned off with orange tape, the same neon as his badge. “That one just began a minute or so ago, so that’s out of commission for the night, that one has been being cleaned for a good twenty minutes but it was wax play which is quite difficult to get out of the furniture without damaging it, and those two on the far side have been reserved already. Your best bet is the sawhorse down past the restrooms, but you’re looking at a good fifteen, twenty minutes for them to finish up.” Spiel done, he lowers his eyebrows and quirks his lips smugly. “So yes, I suppose I was the right person to come to. And if I was on duty, I would’ve been able to go over and reserve it for you, but since I’m not, you’ll just have to fight to be the quickest to snatch it up. Pity.”

Hoseok’s grip tightens around your hand. “Thank you for your help. Enjoy the rest of your evening.” His nostrils flare, and you feel a tug on his wrist as he begins to pull you away.

Jimin holds his defiant stare for a moment longer before breaking out into a cheery grin, giggling at the matching looks of confusion. “I’m just messing with you! I’m not even on break, us DMs get one free drink a night to keep us going. Come on, while you wait I can grab you a spare trolley and you can use some of the toys at the bar if you want. We actually aren’t allowed to reserve stations, though; so sadly you will still have to snag the spot when it opens up. Come with me, I spotted a free trolley down here.”

As the four of you make your way through the gatherings of people, you remark at how quickly you’ve accustomed to the place. The smell of sweat and arousal has increased over the evening, but you barely notice it, and it’s easy enough to tune out pleasured cries and cracks of whips even as you walk right past them. As your two boyfriends mutter behind you, you hear Jimin murmur to you and jog to catch up and walk beside him.

“2 years,” he starts with a self-satisfied grin, “2 years I’ve worked here and I still marvel at the way I can one-up even the most hardcore dominants. I swear this job has increased my confidence like nothing else.”

You laugh. “You do that often, then?”

“God, yeah,” he admits easily. “Gotta make things fun when you can. As long as I’m serious whenever a scene is taking place, or there’s a situation, the owner kinda lets me take some liberties.”

“Who is the owner?” you question curiously. You can’t help but wonder what type of person would open a business like this.

Jimin smiles with mirth but doesn’t answer. “Well, here it is,” he states instead, reaching out and grabbing an unclaimed trolley that was previously sitting abandoned by a set of stocks. “Looks like there are some things missing, but it’s the best you’re gonna get this time of night. People aren’t meant to hog them for more than two hours but it’s kind of a courtesy thing, not a hard rule, so there’s not much we can do.” He looks up as your two boyfriends join you. “You folks need anything else?”

“That’s all,” Hoseok says shortly, still clearly not over the jig Jimin pulled. “Come on, kitten, let’s go find a table.”

Rather than the bar, which Jimin returns to to finish off his drink, you’re tugged unceremoniously down to the small socialising area, which is all but empty by now. They’ve even lowered the lights, and your eyes are happy to have a break from the brightness of the main play area.

In the far back, there are a couple of booths, all vacant, and Hoseok sits on the side in the corner, gesturing for you to sit across from him. You slide in, sighing at the plush upholstery that soothes your still slightly aching ass. Once the trolley is pushed up beside the outer edge of the table, Namjoon slides in beside you, moving over to the middle of the seat so that you’re pressed snugly between him and the wall. You gasp at the sudden warm of his body flush against yours, and feel need wash through you for the thousandth time this evening. Your mouth opens to plead for something, anything, but he beats you to the punch.

“Baby girl, we know you’re probably feeling pretty desperate, hm? You want our cocks?”

You let out a moan at his words. “Yes,” you croak, “please.” A violent shudder runs through you when you feel the tip of a shoe run up your shin, and pushes at the knee closest to the wall until you’re parting your legs. You glance over at Hoseok, who’s leaning back languidly in his seat, though his eyes are predatorial and his grin is sharp.

Namjoon’s eyes dart over to Hoseok, then at you, and finally down past the edge of the table, where your skirt is rising up dangerously high as Hoseok keeps you spread open. “We should get you ready to take us, then.” Your mouth drops open in a silent moan, incoherent as Namjoon reaches down in one smooth movement and cups your pussy, two fingers dipping in automatically with how sopping wet you are. “Fuck,” he hisses, but you just bite your lip and try and rock your hips forward, wanting him deeper.

Hoseok feels you shift and tuts, pinning your leg more firmly against the wall. “Careful, kitten,” he warns, “do you really want to risk punishment when we only have-” he breaks off to consult his watch, “twenty-three minutes before closing?”

You swallow and force yourself to stay still, but that doesn’t stop you from clenching tightly around the tips of Namjoon’s fingers, drawing another hiss from the man.

“Besides,” Namjoon drawls, massaging his palm against you slightly so that your clit got the slightest hint of friction, “if you want both of us we better prepare you first.” His eyes don’t leave yours, a caramel smile tugging at his lips as those fingers slip out, only to seek another entrance lower down. “Will you be good for us?”

You nod hurriedly, shakily, as a single finger teases at your rim. “I’ll be good, Daddy.” Your voice cracks on the last word, but it just makes him grin, flashing teeth wolfishly.

You exhale roughly when suddenly he pulls away from you, sliding to the outskirts of the booth. With glossily wet fingers, he slaps your bare thigh, pinching lightly at the flesh. “Face down, ass up,” he commands, “we can’t prepare you properly if you’re sitting down.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Hoseok’s foot leaves you too, and the dark impatience in his eyes as he cocks his head forces you into action. As you scramble to bring your knees up on the cushioning, you cringe at the audible wet noises and the slipperiness of your thighs. You groan at how empty you feel when you arch your back obscenely for them, cheek planted against the seat.

Your face is below the table, and it takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the darker setting, sighing in relief as you feel the calloused palms of your boyfriend roam over your ass, hips and thighs. About fucking time.

You let your gaze rest lazily on Hoseok’s ringed fingers as they rest on his thighs, framing the tent in his crotch that you can barely make out in the shadows, eyes falling to half mast as you feel Namjoon collecting your slick on a single finger, before beginning the first press into your puckered hole.

You take deep breaths, forcing your muscles to relax, and let out a high whine as it sinks suddenly to the base knuckle, crooking inside you exploratively.

“Good girl,” Namjoon passionately praises, placing his free hand on your lower back to keep you arched for him as he fucks you on his one finger until you’re relaxed enough to take a second.

Your jaw is unable to close and you feel drool gathering in the corner of your mouth, and you squeeze your eyes shut at the intense sensation after so much deprivation. It’s not until he works his way to three fingers, curling and scissoring them inside you, that you hear a masculine grunt and crack one back open. The sight that greets you makes you clench violently around Namjoon, and he has to lightly smack your ass for you to relax again.

Across from you, with legs splayed wide, Hoseok has reached into his pants, tucking his cock out so that just the head peeks out past the waistband of his underwear. Even in the dim lighting, you can see how flushed it is, a deep purple-red that glints with precum when the lazily thumbs at the slit, just enough to keep himself on edge but not nearly enough to get close to cumming.

Automatically, your hand slips off the seat and stretches out to reach for him, but you cry out when Namjoon’s hand snakes around your elbow and roughly tugs your arm away, pinning it to your back. You feel the muscles in your thighs shiver uncontrollably as he plunges his fingers repeatedly into your tight hole, almost too much at once.

After an uncountable amount of time, the three of you are made to pause when the electrical crackle of a loudspeaker resonantes through the room. You let out a frustrated groan as you hear it declare the club to be closing, instructing all patrons to make their way to the exits or the showers, Namjoon’s fingers slipping wetly out of you moments later. Bonelessly, your hips fall to the side and bang on the tabletop.

“Dammit,” you whine hopelessly. “Please, Namjoon, I’m gonna go crazy, just fuck me quickly now and we can finish at home, please.”

“All this time,” a familiar voice calls out in bemusement, “and the sub still hasn’t learnt to refer to her doms by their appropriate titles.”

You jump, hustling to push your knees back down and twist, sitting down normally again to look past Namjoon. Master V stands just past the booth, hair more tousled than when you had last seen him and dark red lines across the exposed skin of his sternum where someone had clearly scratched him. “What are you doing here?” you ask automatically, mind not even comprehending the fact that you’d broken protocol yet again.

V simply raises his eyebrows at you warningly before turning to your boyfriends. “If you wanna stay longer, you can. Employee perks,” he explains. “The one catch is that you can’t use the stations because they all need cleaning at this point.”

Hoseok purses his lips together in thought. “That’s fine,” he dismisses. “We can find someplace. Anyone thirsty?”

You blink, not understanding the statement, but clearly the others do. Namjoon wraps a strong arm around your torso, just under your breasts, and pulls you off the seat so that your back is pressed against his chest and the tips of your toes barely brush the carpet. “Hey-!” you squeak, feeling even more worked up now that the time restraint on the club had interrupted your fun yet again.

Without missing a beat, V and Hoseok reach out, latching tightly onto one ankle each and lifting you so that you’re swinging horizontally between the three, dipping at the waist.

You grumble as they carry you away from the tables, following the edge of the room to arrive at the bar. Jimin has left, as have everyone else, only the last few stragglers making their way to the exits. “Are you finally gonna fuck me then?” you complain in frustration. You swear to God if you don’t get at least one of them inside you in the next five minutes, you’ll go insane.

V, not even turning back to look at you, scoffs. “You haven’t learnt a fucking thing, have you?”

“What?” you fire back, too consumed by a lust-driven haze to care about consequences.

“Right now, little sub, your body is ours. We get to decide whether you get fucked or not, so this whole time you’ve been making trouble when you should’ve been sucking up. If you don’t get what you want, that’s nobody’s fault but yours.” His nails dig into the sensitive skin around your ankle, and you feel it raise, as you’re lifted higher in the air and unceremoniously dumped on a surface taller than a table, and narrow. You crane your neck up, eyes wide as you see where you are. As V temporarily lets go to walk around the edge and rejoin on the other side, you realise they’ve splayed you out on the bar, one man on either side to keep your legs wide open, and Namjoon’s hand rising up your chest to wrap lightly, warningly, around your throat, pushing your head back down so that you can only see him and the high ceiling above. V’s voice comes from below, a stern growl. “So far tonight you haven’t done a single thing to earn one of our cocks in that messy pussy of yours, understand? Now you have to lie back and take what you’re fucking given.”

“This isn’t fucking fair,” you cry out in frustration, tears pricking at your eyes. “I just need to cu-um.” Your core feels neglected, almost painful in its longing for sensation. As you attempt to kick your legs out, you realise something. Your hands are free.

As fast as you can, you shove both between your legs, one plunging three fingers deep into your pussy, the other rubbing frantically at your swollen clit. You let the tears fall, sobbing at the relief, but it’s short lived. With a disappointed shout, Namjoon grabs your hands together with his free one. You howl as he rips them away from you, keeping them captive pinned to the middle of your torso.

Hoseok slaps you sharply right on your folds, making you jump. “This is our pussy, kitten. Paws off.”

“Please,” you scream, “I’ll do anything, come on!”

Driven half-mad by need, you barely hear V as he mutters to the other two. “Okay, she’s there. It’s time.”

You look up in confusion, as much as you can with the weight of Namjoon’s hand around your neck, and immediately your eyes roll back into your head with relief. A steady thrum of power reinforces what you saw. V holding a battery-run Hitachi vibrator.

The second he places it against your clit, you see a white-hot flash behind your eyelids as the powerful vibration sends you violently into your first orgasm after what must be over four hours of waiting.

“That’s it,” V coos, voice dripping with pure satisfaction, “take it all.”

You moan, a low garble in your throat, as the pleasure ripples through you, tingling in your fingertips and the skin of your calves where Hoseok and V hold on tightly, keeping you prone on the benchtop even as your muscles seize and tense as much as they can, feeling like you need to curl up into a ball around the epicenture of your orgasmic euphoria.

“Tha-ank you,” you sob out desperately, hands digging into the soft flesh of your stomach, the only part of your body you can really move as you’re pinned down by the strength of your three doms.

“Thank Master,” V commands shortly.

Tears pool in your temples as the pleasure begins to slowly settle, even as the vibrations continue. “Thank you, Master,” you praise mindlessly.

“Thank your other doms too,” he reminds, twisting his wrist so that the vibrator pushes your hood aside, resting against your bared clit, and you let out a weakened scream as the pleasure begins to prickle, overwhelming you.

“Thank you, Daddy, thank you, Sir,” you make out through shudders, your eyebrows knitting, unsure whether what you’re feeling is pleasure anymore or just pain. “N-no, too much,” you protest, swearing colorfully when V simply runs the Hitachi back and forth across your clit, sending sharp spikes of stimulation through you.

“No?” Hoseok questions rhetorically. “I thought you wanted to cum, you greedy slut.”

“Too much,” you repeat weakly.

“I don’t care,” he counters, “cum again.”

You let out a loud sustained moan as pain returns to pleasure in a hot flash, and you’re pitched over the edge again, tensing up and trying to grind your hips into the sensation as you gush over it, and all over V’s hand. You hear him laughing at you as you go fully limp, energy gone as your nerves run alight through your body.

“Not so brave now, are you?” he remarks dryly, chuckling again when you simply let out an incoherent moan.

You expect he’s made his point now that your body has given up the fight, but instead all you get is a warning click before he’s turning up the power of the vibrator to another level.

You hear yourself yell out, louder than you’ve been all night, unable to stop from screaming and shouting in stuttered moans as you’re wracked with blinding, overwhelming pleasure. “Not again,” you beg, “no more, I can’t-”

Your protests are cut off by a strong call coming from far away. The vibrator is clicked off immediately, and you go lax in relief, though your pussy continues to tremble uncontrollably as you pant on the sweat-soaked bar.

You don’t have any energy to look up properly, but you tiredly turn your head to the side to see an unfamiliar figure approach.

He’s dressed somewhat like Namjoon, with dress pants and an ironed shirt, but a deep navy suit jacket finishes up his outfit, hair carefully styled so that even as he stomps over, it stays in place swept to the side to reveal some of his forehead and brows. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing, making a racket after closing?”

Master V pauses, his grip on your calf instinctively loosening. “You said we were allowed to, Jin.”

“I didn’t expect you’d be bringing so many friends,” Jin defends, “normally your subs are so quiet that it’s never been a problem.” His gaze falls on you and you hiccup as the last of the shivers run through you. “What are you doing to this poor girl?”

A tired smile plays at your lips in relief. Sure, it was a little embarrassing having what must be the owner of the place walk in on you, but at least Hoseok and Namjoon would have no choice but to leave with you. You’d have an Uber ride to recover, and then by the time you reached your apartment they’d be so desperate that they’d give in straight away and fuck you. You just about hum audibly at the thought.

“I thought I taught you better,” the stranger criticises with a disappointed look as he approaches to stand at the edge of the bench.

V bites his lip, placing the Hitachi on the counter in resignation, flicking your boyfriends an apologetic look. “Sorry, Jin, I-”

“If you’re gonna overstimulate a sub, you need to make sure she won’t wake the neighbors,” Jin interrupts, picking up the toy himself. “And for fuck’s sake, use one of the pulse settings so her clit doesn’t get used to it. You in the white shirt, tighten your grip around her throat.”

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to protest, but Namjoon effectively cuts you off by pressing you more firmly to the bench, thumb and forefinger on either side of the column of your throat, intruding on your airways enough to make you groan gutturally.

You jump as you feel a sharp pinch on your inner thigh. “Alright, sub, your safeword is now making two fists and shaking your hands. Do it know so I know you can.”

The pressure on your throat eases slightly as you suck in a breath and follow the owner’s command, relaxing your hands again once he grunts in affirmation.

The pulsating whine of the vibrator fills the air after he clicks it back on. “Good, now lie there and shut up while I show these men how it’s done.”

The brief respite on your poor clit clearly isn’t enough as the second the toy is placed back on you, you let out a shriek that’s cut off midway as Namjoon tightens his grip around your throat again. You thrash as much as you can, but now that Hoseok and V both have two hands on you again, there’s no way you can overpower them.

“Bend her knees,” Jin commands, “open her up for me.”

You moan, drooling unwittingly as they obey, feeling your pelvis shift up so that you’re fully vulnerably to the attack on your abused clit.

“This way,” the boss instructs, “no matter how much she wriggles, she can’t escape it, and you’ve got free access to everything else too.”

Crying out as incomprehensible stimulation is forced on you by the flickering of the toy over your bud, you scratch and grab and bat at the flesh of your stomach, careful to make sure you don’t curl your fingers into fists.

When your third orgasm tears through you, all sensation cuts out for the briefest second, everything going black for one blissful moment before you’re taken over by the warm rush, feeling release like you never have before. Namjoon releases his grip on your throat, and the sudden return of oxygen pitches you into euphoria, too far gone to do anything more than whimpering.

Jin holds you there, in that totally mindless state for a few more trembling seconds before he flicks it off and dumps it on the bartop. “Got my fucking sleeve wet,” he mutters to himself, before reaching out and massaging your inner thigh reassuringly, relaxing the muscles. “Have you ever made your girl squirt before?”

Namjoon’s voice is reluctant. “Not yet.”

“Looks like you have some more learning to do yourself, then. Sub; are you still with us?”

You’re shaking like a leaf, but Hoseok helps prop you up, letting your leg flop weakly off the edge of the bench. You look down and see the wet shine of the table between your legs, and the dark splotches covering Jin’s suit. “Wh-why would you do that?” you question, your voice wobbling from sheer exhaustion. “Aren’t you meant to be professional?”

His eyes darken, a brow arching delicately. “You seem to forget what my profession is, young lady.” Lifting his gaze to include the three other men, he lets out a patient sigh. “The night cleaners will be arriving in a couple of minutes, and I will not be fronting a late fee if they have to wait around for you jokers to get your rocks off.”

Namjoon nods understandingly. “That’s alright, we can be out of your wa-”

“So if you’d like to fuck her,” the owner continues on, “you’re going to have to come do it in my office. It gets cleaned last, so you’ll have more time.”

Your mouth drops open.

Namjoon and Hoseok share a glance with each other, then at V. Finally, Namjoon reaches down and brushes back some of the hair back that had gotten stuck on your face. “It’s up to you, baby girl,” he says with a fond smile. “Either the two of us can take you home and fuck you there, or you can stay here and have all of us.”

Your mouth waters, eyes lingering on V, how sinful he looks with black locks low over his brow, tanned skin beaded with sweat. Your gaze lowers, taking in the way his erection strains under his pants. This whole time, he had been calmly in control, always composed, even when you had acted out more than you ever had before. You wanted to see him how he’d seen you; out of your mind with pleasure. You wanted to see him let go. “I wanna stay, Daddy.”

“Then we’ll stay.”

The way to Jin’s office is longer than expected, and your legs tremble so violently that the group of you move at a near-glacial pace up the stairs to the second floor, going to the right instead of the left like last time when you reach the mezzanine. There’s a side corridor that you hadn’t noticed earlier, the entrance partly concealed by a lube-and-condoms refill station. You take that, the five of you winding down single-file with the owner himself taking the lead, down to V at the rear.

Upon arriving and being let inside, you loiter uncertainly just inside the doorway beside your two boyfriends as Jin walks behind the desk and takes a seat. Even if it wasn’t for the fact that the evening’s protocol forbids you from speaking out of turn (as if you ever really followed it), you can’t bring yourself to form a single sentence.

Luckily, Hoseok can. “Aren’t you gonna leave?” he asks brusquely.

Jin smiles patiently, holding his palms out in a broad gesture. “This is my office. I said you could use it, and you can.” He lets the statement hang in the air as he loosens his tie with a shit eating grin. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You swallow hard and look over to the other men. Even though you had been seen by an entire club of people downstairs in your most vulnerable moments, they were all occupied, and there were so many that it didn’t feel real. Now, with Jin’s eyes heavy on you, waiting, there’s something far more intimidating about it.

Hoseok has a glimmer of something in his eyes, and murmurs in Namjoon’s ear, grin stretching across his face as he whispers, until Namjoon shares that same look. Without speaking, your younger boyfriend makes his way over to one of the chairs and sits down in it. It looks expensive; deep maroon upholstery with a mahogany base. He spreads his legs wide, and silently pats his thigh, eyes locked onto you.

You bite your lip and walk over, feeling a strange pressure in your chest at the silence. All eyes are on you. You just wish someone would say something. You bump knees with Namjoon still standing, but pause.

“Have you gotten all shy on us now, kitten?”

You mentally sigh in relief, turning to Hoseok and nodding. He doesn’t smile but his eyes crinkle as he steps forward, flattening your hair with his palm and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I think I know what you need,” he answers, “to take the pressure off.”

You blink in confusion as he leaves your side, strolling around to desk to the owner, who’s seated at his desk chair, aimlessly swivelling back and forth. Jin stops when Hoseok plants himself between the man’s knees and reaches down. With wary eyes, Jin waits as Hoseok fully loosens the man’s tie, slipping it off completely and bringing it back to you.

“Turn around,” he commands firmly, and you obey without thought, feeling comforted in his guidance. The fabric falls down sideways over your eyes, and you gasp silently in realisation as he fastens the makeshift blindfold with a knot at the back of your head. “Better?” he questions, and you nod hastily, already calming down and not feeling so exposed. “Then go sit on Daddy’s cock.”

You shudder, feet stumbling as Hoseok’s hand on your back guides to to the chair, almost tripping over one of Namjoon’s shoes. The seated man reaches out and grips your hips and you let your knees buckle, straddling him in the armchair. The feeling of his hard crotch rubbing against your still-sensitive core is enough to make you let out an unconscious whimper, and he chuckles lowly in your ear as you let your head rest on his shoulder.

“Joonie,” you mumble. Immediately, a sharp swat lands on your ass, and you jump. With no other context, you don’t even know who did it. It didn’t feel like Namjoon’s arms moved at all. “Daddy.”

“Right,” he states with a squeeze to your hip. “Sit up, Daddy’s waited for that pretty pussy long enough.”

You whine and comply, raising yourself up on your knees, tilting your chin as your ears desperately train in on the delicate sound of a zipper being lowered. You hiss in a breath when you feel his cockhead run through your folds, catching the overstimulated tip of your clit, before pushing it back to rest snugly at your entrance. Your thighs ache with the need to sit, but you force yourself to wait, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt over his shoulders tightly.

The guiding pressure of his hands on your upper hips are your only instruction before you begin to sink down onto him. Even if you weren’t blindfolded, you wouldn’t be able to see a thing anyway with the way your eyes squeeze tightly shut, eyebrows knitting together as your mouth drops open. He’s big, thicker than the dildo on the fucking machine but just about as hard, swearing profusely when your wet heat envelops him inch by glorious inch. You’re so wet from the previous teasing and orgasms, and so needy to be filled, that the moment he bottoms out in you, you’re steadying yourself on him for leverage and beginning to ride him, head tipping back in ecstasy.

“Good, baby girl?”

You bite your lip and nod, feeling him strike nerves deep inside of you with every bounce. “So good, Daddy, fuck.” He rewards your compliment by propping his feet on the floor and beginning to thrust up into you, grunting with the exertion. A warm curl of pleasure begins to build deep inside you at the satisfaction of finally being fucked properly, and you work your thighs, meeting him halfway on every thrust, deepening his reach.

Your body stiffens when he suddenly pushes down heavily on your hips, halting your thrusts and holding you pinned fully onto him. “No, Daddy, please, don’t do thi-”

“Sh, don’t worry,” Namjoon soothes quickly, palms gripping meaty handfuls of your ass and massaging them reassuringly, spreading you apart. “We aren’t going to tease you anymore, princess, but you don’t want Daddy cumming before anyone else has joined in, now do you? Who do you want next? Who’s gonna fill that tight little ass of yours?”

You shudder, but your answer is immediate. “I want Sir.”

“Ask nicely.”

You turn your head blindly around in the direction you vaguely remember Hoseok last standing in. “Sir, please, I need you inside me. I’ll be good.” You startle, clenching tightly around Namjoon when you feel a hot breath on the back of your neck, and Hoseok’s hands - cold where the rings touch you - run up your back to rest on your waist.

“Okay, kitten. Ass up for me.”

You whine and obey, tilting forward so that your back arches forward onto Namjoon’s solid frame and your hips are tilted back for better access. You can’t help but clench when you feel the blunt head of his cock pressing at the tight right of your ass, muscles fluttering around the attempted intrusion. Namjoon swears as his cock is milked by your walls, but Hoseok simply swats you on your ass, matching the sting of the strike from earlier.

“Take it,” he hisses, before you hear him spit, the fluid landing on you, some slipping in as you fight to relax your muscles. He pushes in again, and this time you accept it, crying out as he thrusts forward, fucking up into you in one smooth motion. As you adjust to both men inside you, you feel the lubed-up rubber of a condom around Hoseok. Almost delirious with the sensation of fullness, your mind cooks up the image of Hoseok fiddling with a condom packet, trying to be quiet as you bounced on Namjoon’s cock. A smile tugs at your lips, but it’s dropped when Hoseok suddenly draws away and snaps his hips, plunging in to the hilt at the same time that Namjoon bends forward and begins to bite at your nipples through the fabric.

“Is something funny to you?” Hoseok asks through a tensed jaw.

You wince at the feeling of teeth around your sore nipple even as deep pleasure makes your toes curl. “No,” you protest weakly, another moan being ripped from your throat as Hoseok begins a regular pace. With every thrust, you feel the wall between Namjoon and Hoseok, the two of them filling you in a way you had become addicted to over the years. “God, don’t stop.”

“I know something that’ll wipe that smirk off your fuckin’ face,” he huffs out, and your heart skips a beat until you hear a third voice.

“Open up, little sub,” you hear V mutter, and you moan when you feel his cock tapping teasingly on your cheek.

You open your jaw wide and stick your tongue out, turning your head to the side his cock was on, waiting for it. You hear him chuckle and pat your tongue with the head, salting it with his precum before sliding down. Your mouth closes around him and sucks, and he lets out a low groan, his hand on the back of your head as he guides you.

Even though it was a relief earlier, now you curse the blindfold. There’s nothing you want more than to watch V’s face as he finally comes apart on your tongue, and the image of it alone makes your mouth water, deepening your bobs as you strain to take him all in. While most cocks feel large when they’re spreading your jaw, you know he’s long, so long that even as you gag and splutter around him, your nose doesn’t once touch the skin of his stomach.

“God, look at you,” he praises, a thumb pressing at the corner of your lips to wipe away drool that had slid down, before jerking his hips so that you choked on him once again. “Do you finally feel satisfied, you greedy girl?”

You gargle around him in agreement, and he curses, fingers tightening on the crown of your head. Although they’d lain dormant while you were adjusting to a third cock, your boyfriends’ hands are all over your torso, lifting you up so that they can simultaneously fuck into you, and you let out an inhuman whine around V’s dick, one hand flying off Namjoon’s shoulder and behind you to push at Hoseok.

V tugs you off his cock with a handful of hair and you gasp in lungfuls of air, feeling the cold air on your wet chin and cheeks. You take the chance to use your already-battered vocal cords. “Too fast,” you complain, gripping Hoseok’s wrist as he grabs your ass, keeping you spread. With that, V’s cock is thrust unceremoniously back into your throat and you cough around it, but hollow your cheeks and flick your tongue on his underside, moaning when your boyfriend heeds your words and slows down, opting to grind into you, slow and deep.

“This better, kitten?” he questions, rutting himself against you.

You go to whine enthusiastically, but a new noise takes you by surprise. An unfamiliar groan. V pulls you off him again and as you gasp to catch your breath, light pierces your eyes. You wince, panting, as the blindfold is ripped off. After adjusting to the brightness, you let him guide your gaze across the desk, where on the other side Jin sits, legs spread, gaze heavy on you with his eyebrows furrowed in focus.

He’s breathing heavily, and a flash of movement attracts your eyes downwards, where an angry red cock lies up against his stomach, a fist firmly running up and down it in indulgent tugs. His knuckles are glossy with precum and his pupils are blown wide, and you feel your mouth water at the fact that the image of you alone was enough to make him this desperate.

That thought lights a fire within you, a need, and you bend down to take V in your mouth again, freeing a hand to reach out and jerk off what doesn’t fit in your mouth. He swears at your renewed efforts, gathering your hair into a ponytail so that it doesn’t cover your face. As you do this, you grind yourself between the two cocks you’re impaled on, moaning wantonly at the way they shift inside you, alternating.

Namjoon groans and slips his hands around your hips more firmly, keeping you steady so that he can begin to fuck you, frenzied and desperate. “I’m so close, baby girl, keep that pussy open for me.”

You moan around V’s dick and his hips stutter at the vibration, clearly near his end too by the way he begins to lose control. You blink up through teary eyes, taking him down your throat and breathing through your nose so that you can finally watch him. The crease in his brow and the slackness of his jaw as he’s overcome by pleasure sends hot pleasure straight to your cunt.

Every time Namjoon or Hoseok thrust up into you, that spark of pleasure is ignited further and further, until you can’t even suck off V properly anymore, taking him out of your mouth to suckle at the sensitive skin instead, reaching lower to massage his balls.

The moment Hoseok reaches around to thumb at your clit and Namjoon lowers his mouth to your neck to suck a violent hickey, you’re gone. Your orgasm takes you by surprise, and you collapse, forehead knocking on Namjoon’s shoulder as the two men continue to fuck you through it, moaning sinful nothings into your ear as you gush over them, shaking bonelessly.

Above you, you hear the slick sound of V jerking off and you force your head up with the last reserves of your energy, groaning as you feel Hoseok and Namjoon release inside you; Hoseok into the condom and Namjoon painting your walls. V looks like he isn’t too far off, and he reaches down to tug at your bra, pulling it down to expose your breasts.

“You better not fucking cum on her tits, kid,” Jin warns, “I just had this carpet deep cleaned. Sub’s mouth or the trash can.”

V twitches his eyebrows with a salacious grin, not stopping for a moment. “You heard him, little sub, open up.” You lick your swollen lips and stick your tongue out, humming around the rush of cum that fills your mouth, swallowing it down. After wringing the last few spurts out, he sighs in satisfaction and draws himself out, tucking his slowly softening cock away.

You tremble violently when Hoseok pulls out of you, leaving you empty, but nothing can prepare you for the void inside you when Namjoon follows suit, immediately cupping his hand over your soiled pussy.

“Keep it in, baby girl,” he commands, “you’ve been so good for us.”

You hum warmly at the praise. “Tired,” you mumble mindlessly, letting him bundle you up on his lap as Hoseok took off the condom, knotting the end and leaving to discard it.

Namjoon pats your hair down, smoothing out the mess. “Come on, princess,” he murmurs in your ear as he looks out across the desk. “This kind young man let us use his office. Are you gonna let him use your mouth?”

Your eyes darken with exhausted lust as Jin stands up, one hand holding his pants up and the other still jerking hurriedly at his length. You nod, opening your mouth in submission as you wait for him to come over.

“Good girl,” Namjoon mutters, “you’ll let anyone take you, won’t you?”

Jin stops in front of you, gripping your hair and tipping your neck back so that you’re at the right level. You whimper as Namjoon palms your breasts possessively, rolling your nipples between his fingers as you take Jin into your mouth as deep as you can with your aching jaw. You work to bring him to the edge, knowing your energy will be fully depleted any minute now, and the owner groans at the effort.

“But whose tits are these, princess?” You gargle out a response around Jin’s thick cock, tears pricking your eyes. “And whose mouth is this?” Namjoon moves a hand up to wrap his fingers around your jaw, holding it open so that Jin can thrust inside. You groan, your reply trapped in your throat by his dick. Namjoon’s other hand leaves your tits and slips down, swiping his fingers through the cum that seeps out of your abused core. “And whose pussy is this?” You scream your reply, choking and sputtering as a hot wave of cum runs down your throat, soothing the rawness. You swallow it down and collapse back against Namjoon, spent.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room is your collective panting. Finally, V speaks. “Well; that was fun. Did you enjoy yourself, little sub?”

You let an exhausted smile tug at your lips as your eyes flutter shut. “Yes,” you sigh. “Thank you, Master.”

He chuckles warmly. “Guess you learned your lesson tonight, after all.”

5K notes · View notes

dwaynepride · 4 years

Text

introduction: a comprehensive guide of anything and everything relating to spending the night with leroy jethro gibbs. i’ve been writing and headcanoning gibbs for about four years now, so i’m basically an expert. so i’ll impart my wisdom upon all you gibbs fuckers out there. half-headcanon, half-character breakdown on how gibbs breaks your back.

table of contents

rule 9 - never assume (smashing stereotypes)

rule 1.2 - never screw over your partner (courtship)

rule 20 - always look under (this is his rifle)

rule 23 - never mess with a marine’s coffee (what he likes)

rule 38 - your case, your lead (doing the do)

rule 45 - clean up the mess that you make (or: aftercare)

conclusion

rule 9 - never assume (smashing stereotypes)

jethro is dispassionate. imagine thinking this man wouldn’t throw all of himself into his lover. couldn’t be me. just because he has walls and he’s careful about not opening up doesn’t mean the sex will be any less passionate. it is all or nothing for him.

he’s vanilla. sure, jethro may have some old-fashioned, vanilla tendencies. but i would describe him as a neapolitan ice cream: there’s some vanilla, but other flavors are there and it’s really dealer’s choice. jethro will likely change his tactics depending on if his lover needs some more rough, or sweet, or something that will take away their power.

there’s little to no aftercare. the harsh and distant federal agent that jethro portrays during the day does not translate into his sex life. he loves the people he’s close to, even if it’s difficult to show. but after sex, when the world is still so far away, jethro finds it the easiest to lean into his more vulnerable side. kiss and touch his lover without the fear of seeming weak. he wants to be able to take care of his lover, in all avenues of life.

he always need to be in charge. i won’t sit here and tell you that jethro finds no pleasure in taking on a more dominate role. but it would be a lie to say he doesn’t find it extremely fucking sexy when you take control and give him orders. tell him to strip down or order him to make you cum.

rule 1.2 - never screw over your partner (courtship)

jethro is, no surprise, a hard man to get close to. difficult, but not impossible. you should approach him as an equal and don’t let him play his bullshit games.

it’ll take time and effort to earn his trust. usually, gibbs can get annoyed by people overstepping their bounds with him. trying to push too hard to get him to open up when he isn’t ready. don’t go to him in hopes of somehow getting him to let his walls down. he’ll come to you when he’s ready.

gibbs responds best to lowkey, non-verbal acts of affection. bring him coffee when he’s low, share your lunch, take the annoying phone calls for him. he’ll notice the little things, and he’ll reciprocate. he’s most comfortable with non-showy affection.

be honest. be trust-worthy. don’t lie to gibbs (if you can help it.)

and don’t get frustrated if he seems to be reluctant to crossing certain lines. jethro’s moral code is very important to him, and he’s learned not to get that close with people if it’ll be complicated. so show him that those lines he’s so afraid of crossing aren’t so bad. show him that he can love people without it jeopardizing everything.

slowly, carefully, start flirting. once you’re comfortable with each other and there’s a mutual trust going on, gibbs will definitely respond to some flirting. at first, it’ll be playful. trying to fluster you because it amuses him. but over time, his jabs will become compliments. going from “you’re all dressed up, you got a date tonight?” to “you look nice.” very subtle shift, but very meaningful.

start getting touchy. try to insert yourself into his bubble. gibbs will need that extra push, and if you’re holding his arm or hugging him or putting a hand on his shoulder, that just gets him used to your touches.

eventually, jethro will realize that you somehow wriggled your way past his walls because you leave his house after having dinner together and he wishes you’d stay.

rule 20 - always look under (this is his rifle)

this part of the guide details key parts of leroy jethro gibbs’ body. sensitive areas, discussions of cock, and reactions to certain stimuli.

sensitive areas:

surprisingly, his hands can be very receptive to touch. he’s rough and a fighter and he builds boats, but touch his hands and he’s putty. this also includes taking his hands and leading them to where you want them to touch you.

squeeze, bite, and scratch his shoulders while fucking. jethro’s got some broad shoulders, and he does love the feeling of you digging your nails into his skin when he goes a little harder.

stroke his belly and chest while giving blowjobs. he’ll get goosebumps and it will drive his touch-starved nerves crazy.

touch his face while riding him. curve your hand around his jaw. go up into his hair. gibbs has a big thing about face touching

the marine’s load out

jethro’s cock is average in length, but his real bragging rights come from the girth. he’s thicker than usual, and he’s sure to fill his lover up full. jethro knows this, and that’s the reason why he’ll be keen on foreplay or making you cum on his fingers first. he’ll probably brag just a little bit.

when hard, jethro is about 5-6 inches. thick and heavy with a lighter shade of red. he can get a bit veiny if you work hard enough - get him wound up enough to where gibbs is just throbbing in your hand. at that point, you should absolutely start pumping hard and quick. that’s when he’s at his most sensitive and there’s a big potential for jethro to get fairly loud.

the volume of his pre-cum is kind of a random thing. sometimes there’s a lot, other times he’s pretty dry. don’t be afraid to use your own spit for a handjob, or go down on your knees to get him in your mouth. besides, gibbs likes it just a little bit messy.

when leroy jethro gibbs cums, there’s almost always a guaranteed chance of semen. like many avenues of his life, he will completely blow away your expectations. even if you make him cum several times throughout the day, he’s unlikely to start shooting blanks. jethro will give you a reward for all your hard work by cumming in your hand or mouth every single time. though, knowing him, this shouldn’t surprise anyone.

rule 23 - never mess with a marine’s coffee (what he likes)

jethro gibbs likes to add a bit of spice to the bedroom every once in a while. he knows exactly what he likes and doesn’t like, and he’ll be sure to tell you. but until then, here’s a quick and convenient list:

what he likes:

cumming on you

bondage

sub/dom dynamics

blindfolding

overstimulation

oral

lingerie

begging

barebacking

what he doesn’t like:

excessive dirty talk

pegging

clothed sex

use of toys

phone sex

roleplay / playing dress up

daddy kink

rule 38 - your case, your lead (doing the do)

with leroy jethro gibbs being sufficiently courted and now comfortable letting you in, it’s finally time to get down and dirty with him. after dinner and a couple glasses of bourbon (jethro’s way of wooing his lovers), he’s ready to take things to the bedroom. what now? follow these guidelines to ensure the best fucking this marine can offer:

jethro will automatically go into “take control” mode. he’ll be kissing you, touching you, keeping you distracted with his mouth and before you know it, his coat is on the floor and his hands are coming up the back of your shirt. don’t let him go it alone - touch him back. tug on his clothes. make him know you want him.

you should be the one to undress yourself, if you can help it. he would like to watch you slip your shirt off or shimmy out of your pants. you might feel a bit self-conscious under his gaze, but trust me. you’d be able to tell if gibbs didn’t like what he saw.

a big tip to fucking leroy jethro gibbs is to catch him off guard, sometimes. not everything has to be a surprise, but if he’s busy trying to suck a hickey into your neck, maybe palm him through his pants. or tug on his hair a little.

it’ll give him a bit of a rush, but jethro would also appreciate that you’re eager to give as well as receive. he’s had his share of selfish lovers in the past, so if you convey that you want to pleasure him as well? you’ll have him wrapped around your finger.

he’s good with his hands. he loves working with his hands. gibbs is almost too eager to push his fingers inside you and make you rock up against his palm. don’t be afraid to pull his cock out of his pants and start working him up, too. it’ll be almost too easy to have him grunting between clenched teeth. trying to focus on fucking you with his fingers but the glide of your hand is too good to concentrate.

but rest assured, jethro won’t stop until you cum on his fingers, at least once. he’ll have half a mind to make you cum once more, just because he can. he may not admit it (he’s not all that great at dirty talk) but gibbs loves hearing you cry out his name. loves your little moans when you’re getting closer. it’s almost enough to make him forget how hard he’s throbbing.

once he’s sure you’ve orgasmed an acceptable amount, jethro would be ready for the main event. usually, his go-to position is missionary. he’s old-fashioned, like that. it’s where he works the best. he’ll kiss you, let his hands wander and explore for a bit before penetrating. jethro is slow, at first. steady, but slow. he’ll want to work up his own rhythm, even if you’re begging for him to go a bit faster.

he relies more on power and strength than the speed of his thrusts, anyway. you probably will find it difficult to walk right the next day.

as he gets closer to climaxing, you’ll really start to notice. gibbs has this thing where he wants to get as close as possible when he’s cumming. when he’s close, just cling to him. touch him. wrap your legs around his waist and let him ride it out while grinding up against your body. and keep him close, even after jethro slows to a stop.

rule 45 - clean up the mess that you make (or: aftercare)

jethro gibbs will rely on a bit of aftercare, even if he doesn’t think so. he’ll be more than happy to offer it - he’s not the type to simply turn over and fall asleep without tending to his lover. but here are some ways to return the aftercare:

dozing together: curl up to gibbs, close your eyes, and just relax. he doesn’t need words or pillow talk; jethro probably would feel more at ease in comfortable silence. he prefers laying with his lover and simply enjoying the feeling that comes after a good fuck.

petting: stroke his hair. play with his hands. something soft and physical to help ground him. jethro doesn't hate physical contact - he’s just kinda touch starved. letting your fingers stroke over the skin of his chest really does wonders.

drinking bourbon: old habits die hard? this may be on a more rare occurrence, but gibbs would definitely appreciate a finger of bourbon. mostly after a quickie, but sharing a glass with him would surely good for his emotional well-being.

conclusion

this has been a quick, easy-to-digust guide on fucking leroy jethro gibbs. i’m glad you stuck with me through this analysis, and i do hope this helps you with any future fucking you may find yourself in. take this knowledge and do some good with it.

#ncis x reader #ncis reader insert #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs imagine

219 notes · View notes

whenimaunicorn · 4 years

Text

The Blaster

The Mandalorian x female Reader

Notes: Explicit like whoa. gun play, anal play, spanking/slapping, safeword use, and if you can get through those heavy kinks there’s a reward at the end. Based on a combination of a few anonymous smut requests for the above elements, hope I did you all proud. Big Dick headcanon is in full effect in this one. Gif used with permission from @underbetelgeuse

Can be read as a continuation of either The Split or Training Exercise, or it can stand on its own. Whatever you’d like to imagine, darlings. Also I hope I got the layout of the Razor Crest right. This is how I remember it.

You’re doing it again. Somehow when you’re a guest on Mando’s ship, you always find yourself opening up his gun cabinet and gazing at the glory that is his arsenal. The carefully mounted collection of blasters, rifles, and other deadly weapons is as impressive as any arms dealer’s. Better, really, because you know each one of these has been used. Coldly, mercilessly, probably recently. And, when each one’s job was done, cleaned meticulously, lovingly oiled up, and placed precisely in its home again. Something about this cabinet encapsulates everything about what draws you to this man.

“I know that look.”

You suppress any sign of surprise at Mando’s appearance over your shoulder. His cape swirls at the back of your legs, his modulated voice heavy with that maddening pitch that is somehow both unassuming and supremely confident. You glance at him, then back to the guns, and betray yourself when your tongue darts out to lick your lips. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering you, he reaches across your personal space and runs one leather-bound finger along the stock of something that’s too short to be a rifle and too long to be a blaster. “I used this one to squeeze a quarry out of some cave he tried to hole up in on Galor Six. Once he saw what it could do to the rocks he thought were giving him cover…” Mando’s armored thigh brushes just below the curve of your ass before he pulls his arm back.

His bulk fills up the right side of your vision, but you keep your eyes locked on the guns.

He reaches for another weapon, this time a long rifle mounted vertically along the side. As he does, his other hand slides up your spine and comes to rest at the back of your neck. “I kept this one from a quarry, who thought they could get the drop on me first.” His fingers grip firmly, turning your head slightly more squarely toward the weapon in question.

Your body thrums like he’s just pushed the magic button. In truth, he has, and he knows he has. Submissive-mode initiated.

“Actually at first, they did,” he admits evenly. And that’s one of the things you love about him too, his absolute lack of arrogance, like he knows his own measure precisely. Easy to put your trust fully into a man like that. “I had no idea a quarry like that one could have a weapon with such range. Didn’t save them, though. I survived that mistake, and now this one right here,” he pats the rifle like a favored dog, “helps me make sure others don’t.”

He is boasting a little, isn’t he. Which isn’t like him. Your skin prickles as you realize he has to be doing it for your benefit, because he’s guessed why you stare at his arsenal the way you do.

He pulls you a little closer with that hand behind your neck, and leans his visor in. His voice drops low. “Which one is your favorite.”

His collection is extensive. It includes a number of rare pieces you’d even love to get your hands on for yourself. But there’s no denying which one thrills you the most, the one that makes your heart pound with a strange intensity when you look at it too long. His augmented blaster is a simple thing, really, a classic design you could see anywhere in the Outer Rim, save for a few modifications that are his own personal touches. Save for the fact that it’s his. Your gaze lands on the weapon that usually sits at Mando’s hip whenever he goes out, the sidearm you’ve seen strike terror into quarry after quarry, pressed to a temple or held unwavering between two wide eyes.

Your hand goes up, fingers stretching tentatively toward where it hangs.

Mando’s grunt sounds satisfied, and more than a little amused. He slaps your hand away with an air of lazy command and lifts it up himself. “Good choice,” he hums. “This is my favorite, too.” His voice stays low, like you’re sharing a secret. He puts a little pressure on your neck, turning you closer to facing him as he holds it up for you to admire. The barrel is elegant, tapered, perfectly counterbalancing the boxy chamber in front of his grip. He tilts his head, so close now to your face. “Does it make you feel something, to see this gun in my hand?”

It’s like your stomach opens up and bottoms out in your cunt. Sinking, primal fear meets aching, overriding arousal, that’s what the sight of a deadly weapon wrapped in the Mandalorian’s competent fingers does to you. But you aren’t about to tell it to him like that. You nod, dreamily, and lick your slack, parted lips. Sub-mode tends to make it harder to talk.

He waves the blaster slowly to the left, and then the right. You realize a bit late that he’s watching how your eyes track the weapon. You probably look like an idiot, like every spineless quarry he’s ever had. The thumb at your neck slides tenderly up and down. Then he presses the cool metal of the blaster along the side of your face.

You break out into shivers. Mando holds you steady, allowing you to crumple a little toward him, to clutch at his bicep just beneath his pauldron.

“Is this something that you like?” The question is almost a whisper, but there’s a curl of pleasure behind it. Whatever he thinks you might be into, he thinks he’s into it too.

“Mhmm,” your voice breaks on a little wail of an affirmative noise.

“You wanna play like this?” There’s more strength in his voice now. He slides that barrel down in front of your ear, curling it around under your jaw. “Want to feel what it’s like to be at the other end of the blaster? Have all your options taken away?”

You’ve done scenes with him almost this intense before, but wow, this is just taking it to a whole different level. You have your safewords in place. You know how to stop him if it gets to be too much. Because there’s roleplay, and then there’s a live weapon being pointed at your face, and one of those is definitely more real. But this surging feeling that’s almost making you feel lightheaded… you definitely want more of this. “Yes, Sir,” you force your mouth to say. Consent has to be clear or he won’t press on, you’ve learned that about him already.

“Then strip.”

He keeps the pressure of that long-barreled blaster tight under your chin as you struggle as quick as you can out of your clothes.

Mando reaches out with jerky movements of his other hand to expedite the process, pulling at your sleeves, playing the impatient thug to a T. “Let me see what you’ve been hiding from me under there.”

Your body feels hot and cold at the same time once all your skin is exposed under the yellowish glow emanating from the weapons rack. Your pussy is already swollen and aching with need; this was something you weren’t sure you were ever going to work up the nerve to ask him for and yet here he is, clocking you for a freak with a gun kink after barely a glance at what you were doing down here.

His helmet inclines, looking you up and down. “That was too easy, you little slut.” The cold barrel twists against your throat as he changes grips, bringing his own body closer. “What else are you going to let me do to you?” The blaster digs into the bottom of your jaw. “Hold still, and be extremely quiet. It’ll be like, a little slut test. I’m going to play with you for a while, and I don’t want to hear a single moan. Not. One. Peep.”

You squeeze your mouth shut, gritting your teeth to remind yourself because you already want to make sounds for him. He palms one of your breasts, a scooping squeeze that tapers down to a long tug at your nipple just how he knows you like it. You swallow back an encouraging moan, then resort to holding your breath as he repeats the motion a few more times, rolling your beaded nipple faster and faster. When he gives the same to the other side, tugging a little bit harder, you reach up out of habit to steady yourself against his solid torso.

“Hands to yourself,” he snarls. Then he’s crowding you, pushing you with one hand on your breastbone and that blaster cutting into your neck until you back up into the closed door of his bunk behind you. “Palms on the wall,” he instructs, and you spread your fingers across more cold metal as he returns his attention to your chest.

After tugging at your nipples a few more times, he actually slaps your tit. The first strike is experimental, but he sees the breath rush out of you as hot arousal swirls up in the wake of that surprise. Three more strikes come rapidly, and you try to flinch without making that tight flinching noise, the one that your throat is begging you to let loose.

“Do you like that, dirty girl?” The gun is pressing under your ear now as he swats over your breast again, the strike on your nipple making it tingle afresh. The next swat is followed by a firm tweak to the abused flesh. “Answer me.”

A moan breaks out of your mouth, plaintive and distinctively in the affirmative.

The next slap burns your cheek. “I told you to stay quiet. You just lost.”

But what do you lose? The blaster pulls back, trained now between your eyes, the barrel remaining surprisingly steady as hooks his pinky into the base of his other glove to pull it off. Your eyes rush immediately to the ceiling, trained so very well by now to never try and get a look at the Mandalorian’s skin.

You won’t hear his glove fall to the deck. Mando always tucks his gloves in close at his belt, so he can get them back on as soon as he wants his hands anywhere in front of your face again. But when he needs to get between your legs, oh, he absolutely wants his gloves off for that.

His fingers are so much harsher than usual. He’s really not pulling any punches in this game; but by now he’s certainly gathered a good sense for how much abuse you can tolerate. And this looks like another one of those nights he’s going to stretch your limits. He swipes between your folds, pressing up into your cunt with no preamble. “Fuck, you’re wet,” he comments roughly, twisting his fingers inside your opening so you can feel how easy it is. “I guess sluts just love to be treated like this.” He presses the blaster into your cheek, just as two fingers are pressing their way up inside you. You arch back against the wall for balance. “Is it this?” He wiggles the barrel against your cheekbone. “Is this what’s turned you into such a sloppy mess?”

He starts to slide the gun down the front of your body, making your belly tingle and freeze even as your breasts are still prickling hot from the way he was hitting them.

“Answer me.”

Fuck. He slapped you in the face for speaking last time. Is the silence rule still in effect? For some reason Mando seems to particularly relish putting you in this kind of double bind. His thumb is circling your clit so firm and slow, the press of the blaster is making you pull your bellybutton toward your spine, and he’s waiting, waiting for you to respond. “Yes.”

He curls his fingers out of you and then spanks your clit. One quick, precise reprimand. Your legs try to close reflexively but his armor-plated thigh is in the way. “Yes, what.” He shoves your legs open wider. “Tell me exactly what’s turning you on so badly right now.”

“You, Sir,” you try.

He spanks your clit again, sending electric shivers through your whole body. “Try again.”

Of course he’s going to make you say it. He always wants you to say it, just how kinky you really are. “You and your fucking blaster, Sir.”

Mando leans in, pressing the cold metal further down your body. “My fucking blaster?” he repeats. “Now there’s an idea.”

He crowds you into the wall, helmet angled down so he can watch what he’s doing to you. Meanwhile, you can’t do the same, since his glove is off. You fix your eyes obediently on the ceiling while your attention goes internal. You feel that cold, solid barrel sinking across your belly, then it’s twisting to push your thighs further apart.

“You like it so much, I want you to ride it.”

Stars, he’s going to be the death of you. You feel yourself getting wetter at the suggestion alone. But when the solid metal presses against your clit, so unyielding, squared edges and all, you can’t stop yourself from trying to recoil.

“Uh uh,” Mando chides, gripping your hip to hold you in place. “You got yourself into this, there’s no trying to wriggle out of it now.”

It just feels so wrong. He rocks that barrel over your most sensitive bits and it’s cold and strange and he’s got you panting. You press your palms against the bulkhead and try to keep yourself still and open for him, and yes you did ask for this you suppose, but it’s humiliating and you weren’t sure he would go this far and oh fuck is he trying to stick it inside you??

Cool beskar slides against your cheek. With your eyes squeezed shut you didn’t realize his head was so close. His voice rumbles low through the vocoder: “I want it to smell like you.” The barrel twists in your entrance, but thankfully he doesn’t try to force it very far. “Come on now, dirty girl, ride it for me.”

You whimper and start to move your hips. It’s not much, you’re too afraid of what more vigorous movements might do, but surely Mando understands that, surely he appreciates that you’re trying for him, pushing through your hesitation as you rub yourself deeper onto the end of his gun.

He groans at the sight of your compliance, a deep, raw sound that sounds like some kind of control in him is snapping. Adrenaline shocks through you at that sound, because you’re so vulnerable right now, and he could so easily hurt you if he forgets himself…

Mando removes the gun with another growl, grabbing at your shoulder and spinning you around with a force that leaves you breathless. He slams your chest into the wall like you’re nothing and then the blaster is pressing into your temple.

“Arch your back.”

You press your bottom out as far as you can, presenting yourself to him like an animal, excited for what you think is coming next. Mando’s body crowds your hips, his hand running greedily over your ass, swiping up your drenched cunt.

“I’m thinking about fucking you right now. But, there’s one more thing—” his voice is tight and he actually trips over his words, “—one more thing you never let me do.” The blaster presses heavier into the side of your face. His finger keeps sliding up your slit, past your entrance. “But now that I’ve got you completely helpless like this…” You tense as he rocks that fingertip against your other, tighter hole.

It’s not that you hadn’t talked about this before. You’re curious, intrigued even, but you haven’t yet figured out how to relax certain muscles and earlier attempts at anal sex have proved unsuccessful. The deal between you and Mando so far as been that you’re willing to try, and that he’s allowed to start working you up to it, when the moment seems right. He must have judged you to be so hot and bothered right now that maybe it would finally work.

The pressure does feel good, the tingling strangeness of being touched right there playing perfectly into the adrenaline-laced haze he’s already got you in. The gun at your head makes you feel so vulnerable, so open and helpless that your body might as well not resist anything anymore. The touch of his finger swirling at your asshole is so dirty. “You going to let me in here?”

It’s so reassuring, the way he makes sure you’re still giving consent, without quite breaking the mood of the scene, either. You nod, though when you try to accompany it with a vocalized “uh huh” the sound comes out more like an embarrassed little wail.

“You can be ashamed,” Mando croons, answering your tone. “You know you’re a dirty girl, letting me do such dirty things.” He slides the blaster along your cheek. “Not that you really have a choice.” Somehow being reminded that a slip of his trigger finger would blow your head off just makes your arousal spin out wildly. “You’re just a thing to be used right now.” The pressure against your anus is deepening, starting to stretch you.

“You think you don’t deserve this?” he says the first time you flinch. “You did this to yourself. Things like this always happen to pretty little creatures like you. Ones the sneak around on ships, and poke around in places they don’t belong. You just had to get a look at my guns. Now look where it got you.” He pulls back a little, just to push back in again, making you realize how far your body has already allowed him in. “Now you’re gonna give it all up to me. Even this last bit of resistance. Every part of you is mine to use, and you’re going to take it.” His finger pushes in deeper, stabbing a little to punctuate his words. “Every. Last. Bit.”

And you try to follow that command. You really do. Helpless noises start to spill out of your mouth. How could they not when that dirty, secret stretch starts to burn, when the dark pleasure of one finger up your butt turns to the thought-blurring invasion of two, or maybe three, it’s hard to keep track when he’s hurting you like this. Fuck, you want to be good, you want to give this man everything you have, but it kriffing hurts.

Your safeword explodes past your lips, and the Mandalorian’s fingers instantly still. “I’m going to take my fingers out slow,” he says, voice clear and soothing, without a hint of reproach. “You did so good.”

“I’m sorry,” you can’t help but say, sighing in relief as the pressure abates, though you’re a little bit sad to feel him go, and disappointed in yourself for failing again.

“I’m proud of you,” he counters. “You did so good for me.” He stays close, doesn’t move anything but the bare hand that’s now soothing little circles over your bum. “Do we need to stop everything, or was it just too much in your ass?”

You take a minute to assess yourself. You’re shaking now, feeling pretty blown-out after hitting that limit, but the arousal’s not gone. “Don’t stop. I’ll go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now.” You arch your back deep with your forearms against the wall, proving your eagerness.

His answering chuckle creates a weird static in the vocoder. “I think I would, too. The way you tried so hard for me, you precious thing.” He pushes his hips against you, letting you feel what you’ve done to him. “Made me so hard I almost blew out these pants.”

“Then fuck, what are you waiting for.”

He wipes his fingers on a sanitizer, then his belt clatters to the floor. “Maybe, for you to shut the fuck up.” His tone is a little wry and a little scary, signaling the transition back into the scene. “While I appreciate the enthusiasm,” he presses the barrel of his blaster tighter against your cheek, “I don’t like that tone.” His bare hand collides with your ass. “You want to fucking try that again, slut?”

You shiver in appreciation, feeling yourself fall back into the headspace you’d been enjoying since he caught you down here, now that the necessary check-in is done. “Mm… please?”

He spanks you again, hard and sharp, not worrying about warming you up in the slightest. “You can do better than that.”

“Please, please fuck me.”

Another swat. “Beg for it. I’ve got a gun to your head, I can do whatever I want, but I still want you to beg. Beg for my cock. Beg me to hurt you.”

Fuck. As if you haven’t been through enough. “I need it,” you try. “Need your big cock inside me, so fucking bad.”

“Yes you do.” He slaps your ass one more time and then you feel him fumbling with his pants. Fucking finally. “And now that I know how much pain you can take, I’m going to fuck you how I really want. Cuz I think that’s what you want too, dirty little slut, sneaking down here to steal a look at my own, private, weapon collection; you want to get punished with this cock.”

“Fuck, yes,” you plead as he grabs your hip, lining you up, as you feel the girth of him pressing against your delicate bits, “I’ve been bad and I need to be put in my place.”

“Oh, you will be,” he promises, and then he’s driving himself into you, the sudden stretch making your eyes roll up in your head. Sometimes you tell yourself you’re used to Mando’s endowment, but it’s all lies. No one could ever be used to this, the solid plunge of something too wide to ever be comfortable, especially when he sinks it in so hard and so fast that you feel the pressure all the way up till it forces your tongue out of your mouth.

He pounds away at you, wickedly deep just as promised. It doesn’t matter how worked up he gets you, the stretch is always overwhelming, adding a spice to the pleasure that’s so tantalizing that you think you’ve probably become addicted to it. You realize it’s probably foolish of you two to think that he will ever fit this massive thing in your ass, especially not for him to fuck how he wants, wild and deep like this, but stars, is that thought hot anyway.

You brace yourself against the wall with both your forearms and try to remain conscious under the onslaught. “Arch your back,” Mando barks, pushing at your hips, catching you halfway recoiling, trying to hold the deepest part of you back. His boot taps at your ankle. “Feet wider.”

Fucker really is using this scene to get everything his way. The blaster follows your head as you sink into the required position, letting him reach the very end of you. His fat head is bumping against things that are less than comfortable, but you lay your cheek against the wall and just take it for him. Now your gaze is drifting over the rest of his weapon collection; he’s fucking you mercilessly right in front of it. Reminding you how you got yourself into this. And that he really is gonna try to give you everything you want. As strange or as dark as it turns out to be.

You’re almost surprised when he comes inside you, stuttering and grunting and wringing you over himself until the last tiny bit of his pleasure is satisfied. Often he likes to paint your body with the evidence of his conquest. But it’s so nice to hold him all the way through the end. Maybe he did that for you, too.

The blaster goes back in its holster before Mando begins to pull out. He’s large even when he’s deflating and it’s an interesting sensory experience for both of you every time he goes to dislodge himself after the deed is done. You’re both breathing heavy. Mando’s arm goes around your middle like all he wants to do is cuddle you right here, armor and all, leaning against the wall. “So good,” his modulated voice murmurs between panting breaths, his helmet pressed into your back. “You did so good for me.”

“And I feel like you did all that for me,” you answer softly. “Thank you.”

A deep sound rumbles over the vocoder. “All for you? I was the only one that came, so that can’t be right.” He starts peeling you off the wall. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

There’s an edge to his tone that makes you think maybe the sexy times might not quite be finished. The Mandalorian’s never been a man to leave a job half done, after all.

He reaches past you to open the door he’s been fucking you up against. His bunk has become more cozy than when you first saw it; there’s a real mattress on the frame now, and pillows and blankets. More things he’s done just for you. With gentle hands he ushers your naked body forward to get in his bed. “Get comfortable. I’ll be right behind you.”

You pull a warm blanket most of the way over you as you lie on your back. Now that the adrenaline-laced scene is done, your abused body is starting to shiver. But you don’t settle in completely, still pretty sure that it’s not quite time to pass out yet.

When you look back up at the Mandalorian, standing at the foot of the bed, your breath catches. He’s removing most of his armor plates, hanging each one carefully on the walls on either side of this tiny little room. Your face starts to tingle. This is a rarity in the time that you have known him. He only ever removes what he absolutely has to in your presence.

But those times he’s held you in his arms, he has to have felt you seeking more contact, your roving hands finding out all the little places where you can touch something besides durasteel and beskar. Perhaps he’s about to give you something else he thinks you need, too.

He’s still not showing any skin when he climbs into the cot beside you. But there’s only one little layer between your bodies when he nestles in alongside you, and you can feel his heat, and the springy cushion of his muscles as he draws you to rest your back against his chest. His arms wrap tight around you, pulling you in so close that you can feel him breath. Stars, you can even detect his heartbeat.

It’s a solace you hadn’t even dared to let yourself crave, to be wrapped in the softened reality of this man. Even dreamier when it comes as a reward, after letting him work you over so good outside this little room. You feel your body rhythms entraining to his and try to think about nothing else at all.

You almost forget the idea that he might yet make you come, now that you’re actually here, drifting in the sanctuary of his arms. Then Mando wraps his cloak over both of you, and you feel him removing his gloves.

He worships your body with his palms, especially those places that he was particularly cruel to before. He coaxes your nipples soft and sweet, and caresses your ass like it’s a work of art. You’re totally relaxed, completely comfortable, and surrounded by his smells here in his bunk: metallic, earthy, and some unidentifiable musk that must be a hint of the man that lies beneath it all. You wonder if the sheets you lie on shelter his naked flesh when you’re not around. You wonder… you’re starting to wonder too much. Just enjoy it. Relax in the intimacy he’s willing to give, the privilege that it is that he would be willing to take off his armor for you, even if he can’t show you his skin.

Strong hands pull your top leg up, resting it against his own hips so that his fingers have room to run through your treasures between. “I love your pussy,” Mando says, opening you, coaxing you to bloom with the confidence that comes of repeated experience. You two have been doing this for a while now. Long enough to earn this next level of trust, it seems.

He works you just how you like it, as you arch and sigh against him, reaching back to hold his neck, your fingers barely contacting the base of his head just under his helmet. It’s not long before he’s got your leg twitching and your blood singing. No teasing now, no withholding, just pure, deserved satisfaction.

“Come for me,” he urges, “let me hear how happy I make you.”

And fuck, that does it right there, the loving tone in the same voice that knows how to degrade you when you want it that way, and the baring of some glimpse that you mean more to him than a series of mind-blowing fucks. It pushes you right over the edge into a wailing orgasm that stretches on and on under the expert coaxing of the Mandalorian’s fingers.

The pleasure suffuses you, makes you feel light as a feather, yet unable to move, safe in the circle of his arms. Stars, you can feel him breathing. You never want this moment to end. You realize you’re half-asleep when Mando’s cock rubs up against your behind. “I have to have you again,” he rumbles, his arms clutching at your slackening body. “You don’t have to move, can I…?”

Dreamily, you spit into your fingers and make sure your cunt is ready to take just a little more abuse. Then you present your hips to him.

His exhale is long and grateful as he sinks home one more time. “You’re just—” he whispers behind you, thrusting in lazy and long, “so… perfect.” His strokes send wave after wave of warmth through your body, somehow still relaxing, somehow just letting every last thing in you unwind.

He doesn’t move when he’s done. For once, neither of you say anything self-conscious, or flippant, no jokes meant to create distance or push the intimacy away. He stays, and you stay, and your limbs are all tangled together when you both fall asleep.

More Mando Smut

Taglist: @mabelleen @lokiaddicted @aethersghoulette @nolivingthingdroid @pinkmoontribe-blog @baar-ur @otherthingsinhead @biolo-tea @greendragonzz @aesikupills @of-narwhals-and-ink @doubtedbus409 @kittyatemytaco @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @space-princesssss @okilover02 @debonaire-princess @myfruitgummies @pinstripeninja13 @taman-a @mandowhoreian @cptnbvcks @no-droids @funmadnessandbadassvikings @soapjay @otherthingsinhead @onebatch–twobatch @lilwickedred @stardancerluv @naiomiwinchester @equalstrashflavoredtrash @laketaj24 @themaskismyface @pascallorian @shadowfoxey @thatkidofwarandpeace @pokeasleepingsmaug @anniemar @spottedlekkudancer @lamnothome @sailorflowermoon @tmnt-would2 @artemiseamoon @buvkyxsam @tmnt-bucklover @pascalisthepunkest @inked-poet @actuallyanita @giruvega @letaliabane @the-omni-princess @rzrcrst @hellomothermoon @whataenginerd @ivars-heathen @jayoknrjk28 @pisss-offf-ghostt

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #dom!Mando #mando smut

1K notes · View notes

clareguilty · 4 years

Text

Kinktober 2020 Prompt #8

Hello! Does anyone want some Dutch van der Linde smut?

Dutch van der Linde/f!reader Rating: Explicit | noncon/dubcon, knifeplay, bondage, dom/sub Word Count: ~1300

“And just what were you doing in there?” a low voice demanded. You had just slipped out of the door to the Mayor’s office, tucking the stolen documents into your bodice for safe keeping.

A broad man was waiting in the shadows just outside the door, you hadn’t noticed him when you checked to see if the hall was clear. The man didn’t look like he belonged to the Mayor’s entourage. He was all muscle and charisma, dark like oil. He smelled of gunpowder. Danger.

You fanned yourself, letting out a high, tipsy giggle. Better to play dumb, even if you’d been caught redhanded. “I just needed a few moments of quiet. The party was a bit overwhelming for me, and you know how tight these dresses can be.” You smoothed a hand down the front of your gown. “I’ll be heading back down now, wouldn’t want to miss the fireworks.”

“I’ll walk you down.” The man smiled. It made your stomach flip. He was handsome, devilishly so. Dark curls, thick moustache, strong, pronounced features. He placed a hand on your arm as you made your way to the stairs. His grip was bruising.

You were in trouble. Big trouble. This man had caught you stealing from the mayor, but something about him screamed that he was more dangerous than any Saint Denis lawman.

The two of you made your way out to the garden in tense silence, the man never letting go of your arm.

“Thank you so much for your help, Mr…?” you put on your sweetest smile, letting your fingers trail over his white knuckle grip on your arm.

He leaned in close, voice just above a whisper. “Van der Linde. Dutch van der Linde.”

Fuck.

You were in trouble.

The van der Linde gang was notorious. You just didn’t know they had made it to Saint Denis. They were probably after the same papers you were, and they outnumbered you easily. There were definitely more of them around.

“Ah,” you tried to find your words. “Well, Mr. van der Linde. Thank you so much for your company this evening. I’m going to go meet up with my other ladies.”

You tried to pull out of his grip, but he was easily ten times stronger than you. He pulled you in close, as though the two of you were more intimately engaged.

“You came here alone.” He said. “One of my companions saw you come in. It’s not hard to spot a thief when you know exactly what to look for.”

There was no way out of this one. He had figured you out. Your only option was to run.

“There’s still plenty of valuables inside. Just let me go and I’ll leave the rest to you.”

“Valuables?” van der Linde scoffed. “You think we need something as trivial as valuables? I need papers, darling. The very papers you happen to have tucked into your dress.” His fingers skimmed down the silk over your chest, catching gently on the fabric.

You kicked him in the shin. Would have gone for the groin but your skirts wouldn’t allow it. Still, it was enough of a distraction for you to tear away from his grasp and begin weaving through the crowd of the party. You slipped out the side gate of the garden, hiking your skirt up as you ran through the grass out towards the road.

The darkness was supposed to serve as your cover. No one could see you as you skirted the outer wall.

He came out of nowhere. Slamming you into the cold, damp stone, one hand on your throat. The cold blade of a knife pressed against your skin.

“Shouldn’t have come this way,” he breathed. “Now no one will come looking for you.”

You thrashed against his hold, but it was useless. Every movement only made the knife press harder to your throat.

“You’re quick. Clever.” He brushed his thumb across your jaw. “I’ve been watching you all night. You didn’t disappoint. Slipped into that office easier than I ever could. Did all of my work for me.”

You were frozen in shock. Here he was -- knife against your throat -- and he was… praising you? His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, smudging the red you had so carefully applied there.

“I want to keep you. Make you mine. But first I have to teach you not to steal what belongs to me.”

He cut the front of your bodice open, the stolen papers fluttering to the ground beside you. Dutch removed his necktie, using it to bind your hands together. He knelt to collect the papers, appraising you with a satisfied nod when you didn’t immediately try to run. You watched him tuck the papers into the jacket of his suit.

“That’s a good girl. It’s a shame to ruin such a pretty dress. I may have to replace it.” He crowded into your space once more, the knife still in his hand. You whimpered and flattened your back to the stone.

“Don’t be afraid. I don’t want to have to hurt you.” He cut away the rest of your dress, leaving you in just your drawers. He ran his fingers over your skin, down your chest and pressed them between your legs. You were dripping wet.

“Oh,” he teased. “You’re enjoying this? You like being put in your place?”

You averted your eyes, flushing with shame.

His fingers rubbed along your slick entrance, teasing you. “I promise I’ll give you a reward if you do as you're told.”

You nodded, seeing no other option.

“Such an easy girl,” he grinned, gripping your chin to raise your eyes to his. “Smart. Obedient.”

He opened his trousers, pulling his cock free. You were shivering with the cold and fear, and you dropped to your knees easily when he pushed down on your shoulder. He didn’t even need to speak for you to know what to do.

You stroked him with shaking, tentative fingers. It was difficult with your hands still bound, but you managed, swiping your thumb over the tip before taking him into your mouth. He groaned, fingers winding into your meticulously styled hair. “That’s a good girl.”

Dutch let you set your own pace at first, let you lick and suck along his length, slowly taking him as deep as you could, but his patience wore thin. His fingers fisted in your hair, tugging sharply as he pulled you off his cock just long enough for you to take a breath.

He fucked your face relentlessly. The loud sounds of the bayou disguised the wet sounds of your lips around his length and the constant stream of words that fell from Dutch's. He alternated between mumbled praises and cruel, sneering debasements.

You let him have his way and prayed that he would leave you alive at the end of this.

He finished over your face, marking you with his seed as you knelt in the mud. It was humiliating.

Surprisingly, he helped you to your feet. You accepted his offered hand. He stepped into your space, walking you back against the stone wall so he could slip his fingers between your thighs. You were even wetter than before. His fingers teased you without mercy, circling your clit before sinking deep into your heat. He pinned you beneath his weight, one hand on your throat, the other fucking you until you cried and collapsed in his hold. He didn’t relent until his own breathing was labored. The only thing that kept you from collapsing into the dirt was his strong arm around you.

You were exhausted, coming off the high of your orgasm and the adrenaline of the chase. Dutch walked you through the dark, and you followed him without resistance. Warm fabric settled around your shoulders. Dutch’s jacket. The same jacket that held the papers you stole.

“I’d say it's time to get out of this city,” Dutch mused. “I’ll leave the others to get home on their own.” He eyed the nearly empty cobbled streets, eyes landing on a horse that must have belonged to one of the party goers.

“Shall we?” he looked down at you with a gleam in his eye.

Ko-fi | Paypal | Masterlist

#kinktober 2020 #Dutch Van Der Linde #dutch van der linde/reader #dutch van der linde x reader #smut #lemons #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic

128 notes · View notes

spidercakes · 4 years

Text

Across the Stars

Since everyone was so horny for that sub for hire Peter idea I posted a couple days ago :) Who am I to deny the people? This chapter is more set up than anything and who knows how long this will go on, we’ll see! Read on AO3.

Length: 2.6k

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Tag list: @prettieststarker @readysetstarker @lover-starker @starkerprince @starker-flame @i-am-irondaddy @blush-reincarnated @c6h12o6-work @von--gelmini @caseysroses

Warnings (that aren’t completely applicable to this chapter, but will come up later): feminization and sensation play mostly. In this chapter there’s blind folds, noise cancelling headphones, and wrist restraints. Nothing particularly crazy! Also, uncle Ben is in a coma so hospital stuff.

Peter looks everything over and honestly it doesn’t seem that bad. Tony doesn’t seem that bad either. He’d kind of expected some sleepy client who wanted to do some kind of weird stuff to him but most of the stuff on Tony’s list is tame, at least to him.

“This is pretty… well, not what I expected,” he says eventually.

Tony looks surprisingly serious considering the couple times they’ve talked on the phone mostly consisted of him making jokes and Peter thinks he’s pretty funny at least. It had been a pleasant surprise to find that Tony was a bright spot in his day instead of work given that’s what he’s supposed to be. Peter figures the part where he stops enjoying their interactions will come later, or at least they’ll feel more transactional. Or maybe that’s what’s happening now.

“You do know some of the stuff on that list are things the CIA uses as torture techniques, right?” he asks and Peter frowns at the list. “Obviously I have no desire to torture you, but don’t underestimate how intense sensor depravation can be,” Tony tells him.

He looks back at the list, at the things he still doesn’t really think are that frightening. Restraints, blindfolds, blocking off his ability to hear- none of that seems scary or intense in any way. Peter expected to read the list and immediately dislike at least one thing on there but for the most part Tony seemed to have some tame ideas. Or maybe Peter read too many horror stories, who knows. But Tony is the one who’s done this before so he considers it for a moment.

“Um. I mean, I could like… try something, if you want? Test the waters some, get a feel for what this would look like in practice,” he says. Because he doesn’t see how any of this could be used as torture, it just doesn’t seem all that bad.

The fact that Tony is interested is clear, but he’s obviously holding back. “What did you have in mind?” he asks and Peter figured he was the one taking orders here but okay.

Peter looks back over the list, “maybe combine a few of the things that pop up the most on the list. So like… restraint, a blind fold, and blocking out my hearing I guess,” he says. Tony seems to have a preference for toying with the senses and Peter figures that’s fine, he’s seen weirder stuff and he’s fine with blindfolds or whatever.

For a moment Tony considers it before he nods. “Have you done any of this stuff before?” he asks and Peter shrugs.

“Some of it, but not all at once. I’ve never had anyone block out my hearing though,” he says. He doesn’t even get how that’s a kink thing at all but he also isn’t about to complain about it either. He expected some wild shit that might leave him scarred for life but instead Tony gave him a list of things that seemed more pleasant than not.

He can see Tony deliberating but eventually he stands and holds out his hand to Peter. He takes it, somewhat grateful for the anchor as he’s led away and into a room. He’s sort of surprised by the mundane nature of it, and that it kind of looks like a staged hotel room. The bed is massive though. “On the bed,” Tony tells him, freeing Peter’s hand so he can go over by himself.

He takes in a deep breath an figures fuck it, if nothing else today will pay well. Tony might be unorthodox in how he gets his intimacy but he pays well for Peter’s time, exceptionally well and he’s not really in a position to turn down money. He climbs onto the bed and perches himself in the middle, unsure how this’ll go but sure it won’t go badly. Tony rustles around in his drawers for a few moments before he comes back to the bed, crawling onto it himself and its kind of funny, watching someone in that nice of a suit crawl onto a bed.

“Give me your wrist,” Tony tells him, holding out his hand. Peter follows his instructions, holding out his hand for Tony and he’s surprised with how gently he takes it. “Good,” he murmurs and Peter doesn’t know quite what he’s done right but he likes the praise anyway. Tony wraps the cuff around his wrist, taking his time and Peter finds the cuff soft. He had sort of had handcuffs in mind, which he knows from experience is more of a pain in the ass than anything.

“These are a lot nicer than hand cuffs,” he says and Tony laughs.

“Yeah, can’t say I’m all that fond of handcuffs. They aren’t comfortable and they aren’t nearly as durable either,” he says. “Lay back, hands at the headboard,” he tells Peter. He shifts himself up the bed a little, stretching himself out so his hands are at Tony’s headboard. Tony loops the free restraint around one of the bars of the headboard and Peter hands him his other wrist. Tony smiles down at him, reaching out and gently running his fingers along Peter’s jaw before returning to attaching the restraint. Its not an uncomfortable position to be in, mostly because the cuffs are so soft. “If you want out, say so and I’ll take these off immediately, okay?” Tony says.

Peter nods though he doesn’t see it being much of a problem. Next comes the blindfold so Peter lifts his head a little, earning a small smile from Tony as he slips it over his eyes. That makes things a little weirder, not being able to see but its not really that bad either. Just strange, because he’s used to being able to see without issues. “I’m going to put noise cancelling headphones on, okay?” Tony says softly. Peter waits for the silence to come but nothing happens for a few moments. “Okay?” he repeats and Peter gets his drift.

“Okay,” he says. A moment later the headphones are on and that’s weird. First of all they’re kind of heavy, or at least heavier than Peter thought they’d be and the silence is pleasant at first but gets weird fast. Peter figures maybe he’s too used to noise like the traffic outside his window, or the squeaking of the floor boards, or the thousand other things that make noise in his life so its… unsettling to have all that removed. He tries, for a few moments, to adjust to it but all he manages is trying to strain harder to hear when he knows he won’t be able to.

He squirms a little and a hand settles on his knee. Right, Tony is obviously still around. He’d made it clear that he wouldn’t ever leave Peter alone unsupervised assuming he was in some kind of restraint or anything else that left him vulnerable. Safety, he’d said. It does give Peter some peace of mind and the way Tony’s thumb softly strokes his lower thigh is nice, comforting.

He does decide he doesn’t much care for the headphones though. “I… don’t like being alone with my own thoughts,” he says eventually, unsure if he’d even said anything at all given that he can’t actually hear it and he likes that even less. The headphones come off immediately though and he can hear the breath of relief he lets out.

“You don’t need to wait that long to say you’re uncomfortable, Peter. Say something right away,” Tony tells him.

“I thought maybe I’d adjust. Um. Didn’t care for that though. Maybe we could do music or something instead,” he suggests.

“That’s an idea,” Tony murmurs. “And the rest?” he asks.

Peter considers it and then shrugs, “I just didn’t like the silence. The rest is okay. There’s like, more to it than this though, right?” he asks. This seems too easy and sure, maybe it could be just this but he suspects not.

Tony’s soft laugh confirms it. “No. Ideally I’d toy with your senses from here, mostly touch. You’d know what I wanted to do ahead of time, I’d send you an outline of what I was looking to do,” Tony tells him.

He can’t help the little snort he lets out. “I get an itinerary?” he asks.

Thankfully Tony seems to find it funny too, “more like an opportunity to pull anything from the scene that you don’t want to do. Sometimes people don’t know that they have a limit until they read exactly what someone is planning and they decide its not for them. Its more for your benefit than mine, I already know what I’m looking for.”

Yeah, Peter read over an extensive list of what he was looking for and then got restrained to the bed about it. Tony’s hand has settled back on his lower thigh and Peter figures this is fine, he can totally do this. Tony’s even nice about it though he thinks maybe he should have trusted Sam a little more when he said he doesn’t stock bad clients. Sam seems pretty trustworthy but Peter doesn’t know what ‘good client’ looks like to Sam so for all he knew he was walking into some crazy shit. He didn’t though, and with all the shit that’s been going on in the rest of his life he’s grateful for it. And for the ability to get out of something if he wants to. Tony seems to be big on that so you know, thank god.

“Hmm. Well, this isn’t so bad. Your bed is really comfortable,” he says. Much better than his, though its second hand. Its okay, but not exactly a king sized bed that belongs to some rich guy.

“Yeah? You did so good too,” Tony tells him, hand on his thigh squeezing a little and Peter doesn’t know what he did well really, but he’s still happy that Tony liked whatever it was he saw. “You want out of those restraints?” he asks and Peter considers it for a moment before he nods.

“Okay,” he says, not really caring either way but they probably have some other details to go over so he should have his hands free for that.

By the time he makes it home he’s tired and ready to go to bed but Liz, Ned, and MJ are all waiting for him in the living room. “Hey,” Ned says, braving it by going first. “Are you back from the hospital or your uh… job,” he says carefully, unsure how to put it.

“Both,” Peter says. Someone had to pay the bill and May’s footing the rent for the apartment so he figured he could take care of the hospital stuff. And Tony ways ridiculously well. Not quite enough still, but that’s what the regular sessions are for and he should earn more than enough to cover the hospital bills and maybe he can cut some of his student debt down, who knows.

“So?” Liz says, raising an eyebrow.

He knows they want a million and one details but he’s not really prepared to give them every detail of the paperwork Tony drew up. Guy is nothing if not thorough even if none of it has any real legal binding, obviously. “It was fine, and Ben’s the same as he has been.” One time, one time he goes to grab the milk instead of Peter and he gets shot. And its not like he took his usual route either, and usually their neighborhood is relatively safe, but he happened to walk past some guy who committed a robbery gone wrong and now he’s in a coma. Has been for over a month and no one is sure what’s going to happen. Peter hates the limbo, but what the hell is he supposed to do about it? Best he can do is make sure the cost is covered and its not like that’s cheap.

At least bringing him up has the added benefit of shutting his friends up. They all look a little awkward with the mention of him and Peter doesn’t like using him to get them to back off but he’s also too tired to deal with their questions at the moment. “Well, that’s… not bad,” MJ says eventually, wincing. Peter knows what she means though so he nods.

“I’m going to go to bed, see you guys in the morning,” he tells them, waving them off and going to his room.

He’s crawling under his covers when his phone rings and he sighs, looking at the caller ID to see if its anything important. Its Tony so he takes a breath and answers it, “hey,” he says as he settles into bed.

“Hey,” Tony says back softly, “you doing okay?”

Weird question but Peter will take it. “Yeah, I’m fine. Tired, but that's more because I’ve had a long day and I have class tomorrow.” He wrinkles his nose but it can’t be helped. He’d offered to drop out so he could get a job to cover bills but May about had an aneurysm about that so he decided maybe to not bring it up again. She has enough on her plate without worrying about that too. And then he ended up with a job anyway, but Tony is flexible. He works weird hours too, apparently.

“I thought you were a student, your schedule suggests it. What are you studying?” he asks.

“Engineering and I swear professor Beck wants me dead,” he says. God, he’s such a prick. Sometimes he’ll be okay and Peter will think hey, maybe he’s not the worst and then he does something awful and he takes it back. They have a hate hate relationship.

“Quentin Beck?” Tony asks and Peter frowns.

“How the hell did you know that?” Because that’s weird and maybe a little creepy depending on how he found that out.

“We worked together once. Didn’t end well,” he says.

“Good to know he hates everyone and its not just me,” Peter mumbles, making Tony laugh a little.

“Yeah, guy is a prick with a complex and coming from me that’s pretty bad. So uh… if I send you a few things tonight will you be up for reading them?” he asks and Peter doesn’t mean to let out a groan but he does. All Tony does is laugh though so there’s that. “Relax, its not too much. There’s some pictures too, if that helps. I was hoping you’d be able to come back tomorrow, presumably after your classes, if that works for you.”

It does, mostly because he needs the money but he also figures he should get a full idea of what this is going to look like anyway. “Yeah, I can do that,” Peter says. “And I swear to god if I have to read more than three pages I’m going to say fuck it and go to sleep.”

Tony lets out a sharp laugh at that. “Its way less than that, scouts honor,” he says and Peter snorts.

“You so don’t look like the type who was in scouts but I’ll take your word for it,” he tells him.

When Tony sends the information its really not that much. What he has planned, apparently, is more bonding than not minus what Tony wants Peter to wear. He looks over the picture and there’s nothing objectively wrong with the white teddy its just… well, its not like he often wears women’s clothing. Or in this case anything that feminine. But its not like its the end of the world so fuck it, he’ll get comfortable in sheer white material and deal with it.

#tony stark x peter parker #starker #alternate universe #fanfiction #chapter 1

220 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Nostalgia, Part 3 (Rujubee) - Dartmouth420

nostalgia is a series that follows the re-ignition of raven/jujubee’s friendship (with benefits) while jujubee competes on all stars five and raven is working on set. there will be one chapter for every episode of AS5 where jujubee appears. drag names used with male pronouns.

summary: Jujubee’s coming off the thrill of the challenge win and the lip-sync battle. But jealousy is a double-edged sword… and bad habits are hard to break.

tw: smut, dom/sub dynamics, mild degrading language, mild jealousy

a/n: i’m enjoying the heck out of AS5 and i hope y'all are too.

Jujubee was very pleased with his performance in the challenge. Designing and presenting the hotel room had been surprisingly fun and despite his early misgivings, India and Alexis had been great to work with. Jujubee was confident, he’d been funny, coherent, and had delivered exactly as he’d intended. One hundred percent pure Laotian gold sheets indeed.

Raven hadn’t been around much and Jujubee hadn’t sought him out.

“Girl,” said Mariah, in that patient, knowing drawl of his as they painted their faces in the mirror in preparation for the runway and the judging, “I know what you’re doing.”

“Do you now?” responded Jujubee, carefully covering his mild panic. Not that there was anything to panic about but he had technically broken an important rule…

“Don’t you look at me like that, I ain’t a snitch!” laughed Mariah, “But I noticed that hickie. Maybe next time I’m feeling the stress of the competition I’ll go see for myself if darling Raven is around. I’ve got good memories of that mouth.”

“Since when?” responded Jujubee. He hadn’t realized the two of them had ever been involved, though hook-ups were certainly common among the community.

“We’ve both been around for a while,” said Mariah, with a knowing shrug, “We’ve both been getting around for a while.”

“Damn, who hasn’t he let fuck him?” joked Jujubee lightly, but slight jealousy was twisting in his stomach. He couldn’t deny Raven’s reputation. Though Jujubee had vaguely hoped he had the other man to himself, at least if their on-set shenanigans were going to continue.

“Out of the old generation? That list is short. From what I’ve heard he and Raja are working through the younger ones, too… just ask baby Naomi.”

Jujubee chuckled and he and Mariah returned to the task at hand.

Jujubee won the fucking challenge!

He couldn’t help letting a few tears escape his eyes as the pride and relief overflowed. It was a lot. And then the damn Untucked was a lot, too. Connecting with Mayhem and Blair was great, but emotional as hell. Nerves and anticipation were creeping up for what was to come next.

He spoke with everyone, changed into his leopard-print catsuit, picked out his damn lipstick and then before Jujubee knew it he was standing on the runway, and Ru was shouting “Ru-veal yourself!”

Jujubee turned, heart in his throat as he stared at the screen and the assassin contained behind it. Jujubee’s prediction from the other week in the bathroom with Raven returned to him, and his heart pounded in anticipation. Was it Raven behind that screen? Production would never be able to wrangle it, there was no way, but-

The screen rolled up and Jujubee saw soft orange velvet ankle-boots and while they were lovely shoes Raven would never wear something like that in a million years. As the screen rose Jujubee forced Raven to leave his mind as he focused on the task at hand, which was going to be beating Monét-motherfucking-X-Change in a lip-sync battle, to a Lizzo song.

All Stars Five was hard, damn it.

Monét gave an amazing performance, and Jujubee did his best but the emotion of the day left him a bit thrown off. Jujubee was disappointed with the loss, he could admit that. Somewhere in back of his mind he knew if he had been lip-syncing against Raven he could have beaten him, and felt ever-so-slightly cheated that his prediction hadn’t come true. Oh well, it was water under the bridge.

Then there was the matter of sending Mariah home which was way more fucking tragic than anyone including Jujubee had been ready for.

“Good luck, girl,” whispered Mariah in Jujubee’s ear as they hugged and he left the runway, “And have fun.”

When Jujubee finally, finally got back to the hotel after a very long day, he walked down the hall to his room and noticed a figure leaning against the wall next to his door, one arm tucked under the opposite elbow, eyes down on his phone.

It was of course, Raven, looking like a tall drink of… chaotic whore. But what else was new? Jujubee approached, quiet, waiting for Raven to notice him.

“Hey bitch!” said Raven when he looked up, a grin his face, “I heard a rumour that you won the challenge today.”

“Mm-hmm,” replied Jujubee, self-satisfied, sliding his hotel key into the slot and then opening the door. The day had been an emotional roller coaster, full of highs and lows. He was dead tired on his feet.

Raven followed him inside without needing to be asked and said, “Congratulations.”

“Thanks, fuck I needed a win.”

“I know, you deserve it. It’s been a long time coming.”

Jujubee tossed his day bag onto the chair, and laughed, “I thought it was gonna be you behind that screen. Bitch I was like ooh shit we just talked about it last week and now I’ve won? Hope he’s ready… ”

Raven put his phone down on the table, “I wasn’t lying to you when I said I’m not an assassin-”

“Jury’s still out on that, I can’t trust anyone.”

Raven laughed, and Jujubee gave him a suspicious side-eye that was mostly for show. Mostly.

“Monét destroyed you.”

“I wouldn’t say ‘destroyed’,” replied Jujubee, mildly insulted. He thought he’d held his own pretty well in the lip-sync, but the disappointment that it wasn’t Raven had thrown him off…

“Kicked your ass, cut you to pieces, sliced and diced,” continued Raven, stepping closer to him.

“Shut up.”

“No, I live to give you a hard time,” said Raven, passing by Jujubee and making his way over to stand next to the end of the bed, “One more bitch down, huh?”

Jujubee took a moment. Raven was posed awkwardly, looking down at the bed with his arms crossed, avoiding eye contact. Jujubee cocked his head to one side, and considered his response. He was pretty damn tired tonight but elation and pride were still tingling under his skin. He had just won, after all. And curiosity was pulling at him.

“Did you get a chance to say goodbye to Mariah?” asked Jujubee, casually, reaching for the water bottle he’d left out on the table.

“Yeah, I saw him afterwards. You know how emotional the eliminations are. We, uh, talked,” said Raven quickly. Jujubee recalled his earlier conversation with Mariah, noted Raven’s avoidance of eye contact and presumed something must have happened. But it seemed odd that Raven wouldn’t brag about it.

“Did he say anything interesting?” asked Jujubee.

“Interesting?”

Jujubee shrugged and took a drink of water. All he could picture was Raven’s mouth around his cock the first week in the supply closet, how good it had felt and whether Raven had done the same thing for Mariah. Jujubee was certain that he had, but there was no rational reason to feel jealous. Both he and Raven were in serious, if open, relationships and fucked all kinds of people on tour and in the ins and outs of their lives. This wasn’t anything special.

“Anyway,” said Jujubee, putting his water bottle down. He decided to be straightforward. “It’s been a long day girl, what do you want from me?

“Oh, well,” Raven practically purred, an absolutely salacious expression appearing on his face that caused a tight thrill to swoop in Jujubee’s stomach, “You won today. I’m here so you can claim your reward.”

Ah, of course. I’ll let you fuck me if you win. Jujubee had assumed Raven meant the crown, not just a main challenge. Perhaps Raven was using it as an excuse, and he was more interested in keeping this thing going between them than Jujubee had realized. What exactly were they to each other?

“I don’t have the energy to top you tonight, I’m exhausted,” said Jujubee, crossing his arms.

Raven’s mouth fell open for a second, and then he closed it, and he shifted, still standing by the bed.

“Okay, but like, I prepped and everything-”

“Wow. Someone’s entitled.”

“Fuck off.”

“I don’t think I will bitch, this is my room.”

Raven let out an annoyed sigh and rolled his eyes. Jujubee felt a kind of calculating power, because there was something so fun about fucking with Raven. It was easy. It was almost as much fun as actually fucking him.

“Sit down,” ordered Jujubee and there was an instant change in the air, and to Raven’s expression. But Raven didn’t obey immediately, he waited, drawing out the moment. And then Raven sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at Jujubee expectantly.

Jujubee approached him. There it was, the thrill of the power exchange that occurred so smoothly between them every time.

“Keep your mouth shut,” said Jujubee. “I don’t want to hear your whining.”

Raven bit his lip and nodded.

“Take your pants off.”

Raven unbuckled his belt and undid his fly and lifted his hips, sliding his jeans to his ankles and taking them off his feet. Jujubee just stood and watched, and then brought his hand up and examined his nails, performing indifference. Raven huffed and removed his underwear as well. He was already hard. Well that was certainly fun, considered Jujubee, allowing an approving smile to appear on his face.

He approached, closing the distance between them and took Raven’s face in his hands. Tilting his head back and kissing him. Raven responded, hands going to Jujubee’s back. Jujubee broke the kiss and stepped back out of his reach. “Don’t touch."

Raven looked disappointed but he didn’t say anything, doing as he was told. A jolt of excitement shot down Jujubee’s spine.

Jujubee decided he might as well cut to the chase.

"Open your legs.”

Raven obeyed. Jujubee stepped froward and dropped to his knees, hands on Raven’s overly-tanned thighs and regarded his cock for a moment. Raven was still, practically holding his breath.

Jujubee dipped his head and took Raven’s cock in his mouth and felt the other man practically shudder at the sensation. Jujubee went to work with his hand and his mouth, and while he didn’t fall over himself to suck cock at any given moment the way Raven did, he’d been doing this a pretty damn long time and he was pretty damn good at it too.

“Mm, fuck… ” murmured Raven.

Jujubee pulled back instantly, digging his nails into Raven’s inner thigh. Raven hissed at the pain, and Jujubee grabbed him by the chin with his opposite hand.

“Did I say you could talk?”

Raven shook his head, a smirk growing on his face. Jujubee held eye contact until Raven looked away and pressed his lips together, pouting, submissive.

“Keep your mouth shut you little slut, and maybe I’ll let you finish.”

Jujubee wasn’t entirely sure where that had come from, because he really hadn’t been planning for things to get this intense. But Raven inhaled sharply, and his cock twitched and he obediently remained silent, so Jujubee returned to his task.

They really shouldn’t let this become a habit, considered Jujubee as he sucked on the head of Raven’s cock and Raven let out a heavy breath. Warm nostalgia rose in Jujubee’s chest.

During All Stars One there had been part of the Untucked that had remained unaired, during the heavily staged Fuck, Marry, Kill conversation. Raven had just infamously and hungrily told Manila, “I would actually fuck you.” But what Raven had said next, in response to Jujubee’s name coming up had been to simply give him a wink and say, “Been there, done that. Marry.”

They hadn’t done anything yet, of course. Raven had been holding off on him since Season Two. It had only made the tension between them higher, much to Jujubee’s frustration. Jujubee’s response to Raven’s name had been, of course, “Fuck. Baby, I’ll make sure you can’t walk the next day.”

And he had.

Jujubee snapped back to the present, because it seemed like Raven was going to come soon. Raven had fallen back to his elbows, his breath shallow, and a flush was beginning to creep up his neck to his face. They really weren’t supposed to be doing this. The stakes were too high and Jujubee wasn’t exactly sure where Raven would fall under the ‘no conjugal visits’ rule, should anyone find out.

But anyway, Raven finished, staying obediently silent and keeping his hands off Jujubee as ordered. There was a certain satisfaction to it. Jujubee efficiently spat into a tissue and tossed it into the wastebasket in one swift movement. Raven lay back on the bed with a lazy hum, rolling onto his side.

Jujubee didn’t have anything better to do so he flopped down next to him, propping himself up on his elbow.

“You can talk now,” said Jujubee dryly.

“Mmm, permission received.”

There was silence for a moment. Jujubee considered whether he wanted to go to the effort of having Raven give him a handjob or something and then decided against it. He was dead tired. Sleep was looking attractive.

“You know you could be getting laid plenty this season, if you want it,” said Raven, seemingly out of the blue.

“What makes you say that?” asked Jujubee.

“That short bitch Cracker wants you, it’s obvious,” stated Raven with feigned nonchalance, rolling onto his back, tucking his arm under his head, “You going to fuck him?”

“Perhaps,” replied Jujubee, delicately touching his collarbone, giving Raven a smirk, “Are you jealous, bitch?”

“No,” said Raven, rolling his eyes, “You can do what and who you want, obviously.”

But Jujubee knew him well enough to read his body language, to see the set of Raven’s jaw and the tension in his shoulders. Raven was such a brat, and he was clearly feeling insecure about being left behind for someone younger and more fun. Oh, sweetie.

“Well, now that I know such a great place to fuck people on set-” began Jujubee.

“Hey, no, that’s my spot!”

“Who else are you possibly fucking at work?” joked Jujubee, a vision of Mariah flashing before him.

“Eh, there was this twink PA I liked but he’s working somewhere else now, so-”

How intriguing. Ah, Jujubee could certainly pursue Cracker if he wanted to, the man wasn’t unattractive, but playing with Raven’s ridiculous emotions would probably be more fun. It wasn’t that Jujubee wanted to actually hurt him by any means, but Raven could be so dramatic and self-centred that there was a certain satisfaction to winding him up.

“So it’s just me?” teased Jujubee, pushing his luck.

“Do you think you’ll fuck Cracker?” responded Raven, dodging the question.

“Hmmm… I could.”

“But will you-”

“I don’t know yet, bitch!” laughed Jujubee, “I need to focus on winning. We probably shouldn’t even be doing this, it’s a distraction.”

“No it isn’t,” said Raven, a sly smile growing across his face, “This is what they call emotional support."

The two of them laughed and Jujubee rolled his eyes, "You’re so stupid.”

“You like it.”

“To a point.”

Raven shrugged and then yawned, “Well I better go, I have to drive home.” He looked down at himself, amused, “Ha. I’m still naked.”

Jujubee admired Raven’s ass as he got up and pulled his underwear and jeans back on, heaving a deep sigh.

“Bye bitch,” called Jujubee, as Raven got his phone and left with a casual wave of his hand. The door shut behind him, and Jujubee blinked, the exhaustion of the day crashing back down on him. He got up and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Tomorrow would be another challenge, and in all likelihood another twist. But whatever, Jujubee was ready. Bring it on, All Stars Five.

#rpdr fanfiction #rujubee #raven #jujubee #smut #canon compliant #nostalgia #dartmouth420 #tw dom/sub dynamics #tw degradation #submission #s2 #as5 #on set fic

16 notes · View notes

just-my-sickly-pride · 5 years

Text

The Old College Try || Brian May x fem!Reader

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD OF A FIC THAT I POSTED LAST YEAR TO A DIFFERENT BLOG. I DID NOT STEAL THIS; IT’S MINE. The version on my other blog has since been made private. Minor changes have been made.

summary || of all the new experiences you thought you’d have in your time at college, falling into an extended friends-with-benefits situation was not one of them - but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. you and Brian had tried every kinky thing you could think of. except calling Brian ‘daddy’, of course, because, y’know, bleugh. you both thought the idea of that was gross. so gross. right? modern day au. college au.

rating || explicit. 18+ only. do not read if you are under eighteen. there’s a bit of what i’d like to call platonic fluff? but mostly smut. daddy kink, choking, some slight dom/sub dynamics, but not much.

word count || 6.9k. this was clearly written back when i actually used to write reasonably-sized fics.

author’s notes || i’m re-uploading this because i have a part two written and ready to be uploaded. i’m sorry the gif below is so big but it’s just too pretty!

masterlist

If someone had told you that, within the first few months of starting university, you’d have made a new friend who would quickly become more than a friend, you’d have said that that someone had no idea what they were talking about. You weren’t interested in dating, at least not at this point in your life. You just wanted to focus on university, at least for the first year.

If that someone had clarified what they’d meant by ‘more than a friend’, you would’ve been equally as confused.

Well, maybe not that confused. You’d been attracted to Brian the second you’d first clapped eyes on him, when he’d asked if the seat next to you was taken in your second lecture of the day. In fact, after that first hour, you’d thought you’d probably develop a crush on him — but, surprisingly, you didn’t, even after the two of you became friends. Great friends, actually. You shared similar interests, and you could talk for hours about absolutely anything. He was good fun to argue with over silly, trivial things, like where the best place to keep ketchup was, or whether it was acceptable to drink wine out of a cup. And he was always open for late-night conversations about life and the universe. And you loved making him cringe. Your favourite way to do it was to say that his love of animals revealed he was actually a furry. Or saying that he had a foot fetish. You found it hilarious how easy he was to wind up. He did not.

So yes, above all else, you were friends.

You’d just added a little something extra to the mix along the way.

You couldn’t remember how exactly the whole ‘with-benefits’ component to your friendship had started, but you could remember very clearly when: three months into uni, into being friends, and you’d both been at a mutual friend’s party. You’d both been drinking, and you’d been flirting, like you always seemed to be, and then, next thing you knew, you were making out. You’d spent the rest of the night making out, actually, and then Brian had come back to yours, where’d you’d made out even more, but with less clothing. You hadn’t slept together, but you’d fallen asleep in the same bed.

And the next day, things had seemed… completely normal. Nothing had seemed to change between you two at all. It wasn’t as if either of you pretended the night before hadn’t happened, but more that it just didn’t need to be something really that worthy of note. It had happened, it had been fun, and that was all there was to it.

The next time you two had gotten drunk — at your place, playing a dumb drinking game while watching Zootopia, of all things — the same thing had happened. Except, this time, you’d gone all the way. And it had been great. No awkwardness, no pressure to impress. The next day, again, the dynamic had remained the same.

So, after a brief conversation to clarify things, you’d settled on friends-with-benefits.

That had been two months ago. It wasn’t a secret, per se, but you weren’t exactly rushing to tell anyone. You actually had no idea how many people knew.

But what you did know was that, while neither of you had had a friends-with-benefits arrangement with anyone else before, you were both fucking good at it.

It hadn’t taken long at all for things to become more adventurous in the bedroom. Every time the two of you slept together — which, given that you were both young adults who had needs, was fairly often — you were experimenting, trying out new things, almost in competition to see who was the kinkiest.

Which was new, again, for both of you. You’d never thought of yourself as particularly kinky, and Brian had told you he’d never really considered anything more than just vanilla sex. But one day, during a lecture, you’d found yourself staring at his hands, and had wondered what they would feel like wrapped around your throat.

As it turned out, it felt incredible. And so had been just about everything that had followed after it.

You were staring at his hands now, as he fiddled with the lid of his water bottle. You were at lunch with your friends at uni, celebrating the end of a painful three-hour lecture, but you’d zoned out of the group conversation long ago.

Brian’s hand drifted down the side of the water bottle lightly, deliberately slowly, and you could tell without even looking at his face that he’d caught you staring. His fingers glided back up the water bottle, and curled around the top of it, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

Brian’s hand flexed around the water bottle, tightening, and you squeezed your thighs together. You shot a glance up to his face. He wasn’t looking at you, instead politely engaging in the conversation, but he had a small smile on his lips. He knew he was getting you hot under the collar with just the movements of his hands, and he was enjoying it immensely. You simultaneously hated that it was so easy for him to tease you, and loved that he enjoyed doing it.

You sighed, sitting back. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” you said, completely cutting off whoever was talking; you didn’t care.

You stood up, leaving your belongings there with your friends, and walked to the bathrooms. There were two sets of bathrooms: the food court ones that everyone used, and the much quieter ones that were in the building next door, down a corridor. There were no security cameras there, either. The bathrooms weren’t abandoned, exactly, but you could have about five to ten minutes of privacy if you were lucky.

You leant against the wall of the corridor, tugging on the sleeves of your shirt, rubbing your hands together, bubbling with nervous energy.

Brian rounded the corner an agonising two minutes later, and you said, “You’re a fucking menace,” before he grabbed your hips and pinned you against the wall, kissing you hungrily. You knew you had barely any time — not even a minute — before your friends started getting suspicious, so you made the most of it.

Well, the most of the twenty or so seconds you were given. Someone exited the bathroom, and you and Brian sprung apart from each other, and you looked down at your hands, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from laughing. The guy who’d left the bathroom mumbled, “Sorry,” and hurried past you.

You and Brian shared a glance, and then you started laughing. Brian covered his face with his hand, shaking his head. “I…” He sighed. “The number of times that we’ve gotten caught by strangers… And it never gets better. It’s always horribly awkward, every time.”

“Maybe we should just stop making out at uni then,” you said.

Brian lowered his hand, looking aghast. “That’s out of the question. What am I meant to do, wait till the end of the day?”

“Maybe we should,” you said with a shrug. “Maybe we should stop making out basically every day. It might make things more… rewarding. Or at least interesting.”

“I don’t think I could last an entire day,” Brian said. He rested his hand against your collarbones, applying just enough pressure to push you back into the wall, and his thumb moved to press against the front of your throat. Your lips parted instinctively. Brian’s eyes were on his hand — he’d told you that he liked how his hand looked against your skin — and your eyes were on his face. The concentration and heat in his gaze, coupled with the feeling of his hand, was enough to make you squirm with need.

But now was not the time, nor the place.

You sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall and your eyes slide closed. “Bri,” you said slowly, a warning.

“Mm?” Brian said, his warm voice low.

“We’re in public.” You opened your eyes, and lifted a hand, placing it on top of his, gently taking it away. “We have to go back.”

Brian was tense, his jaw clenched, and you smiled. “Come on,” you said. You spoke lightly, but you knew that Brian would obey you.

Brian breathed out sharply, and he turned away from you, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Fuck, I want to fuck you so bad,” he growled. “Fuck.”

You felt that all through your body, but you just took his wrist and went to leave, dragging him after you. He stayed stuck to the floor, his eyes boring into yours, and you could see the gears turning in his brain, knew he was seriously considering grabbing you and taking you into one of the bathrooms.

You knew he wouldn’t. You both had limits, and actually fucking at uni was not on the table for either of you.

But still. The fact that Brian seemed damn near overwhelmed with desire — desire for you — made you feel like the most powerful motherfucker on the planet.

It also helped that you just tugged on his wrist again, just once, using barely any effort, and he became unstuck, following your direction without another word.

“Maybe later I can dig out the old furry suit,” you said as you headed back to the food court, making your voice as sensual as possible.

Brian snatched his wrist back as if in disgust, but you could tell he was trying not to laugh. “Jesus, you know how to kill the mood really fast.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you said, blinking at him innocently. “Don’t you want to see me in my suit? It’s a badger one. I got it made just for you. I thought you’d love it.”

Brian shook his head. “I hate you so much.”

“Maybe we can try something even better tonight,” you said, giving him a pouty, sexy look that you knew looked ridiculous. “Something new. What do you say, Daddy?”

Brian’s step faltered, and the wildly taken-aback look on his face made you laugh. You skipped ahead, sliding back into your chair, and Brian joined you soon after.

A week later, you and Brian were in your dorm, books and textbooks and pens and laptops strewn all over the living room floor as you tried to study. Brian was always much more studious than you were, so it helped to have him there to steer you back to your books when your focus strayed. Unfortunately, having him there served as the worst distraction you could’ve had.

After about fifteen minutes of you mildly irritating him, flicking his pen as he tried to write, poking him in his side where he was most ticklish, making stupid noises at him and demanding some kind of response, he’d sent you to the kitchen to make a snack and get you both something to drink.

You hummed to yourself as you waited for the popcorn to microwave, scrolling through Instagram on your phone. You came across a horrifically awful meme, and you laughed. “Hey, Bri,” you called. “Dude.”

“What?” Brian replied from the living room.

“Come look at this meme. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Just send it to me.”

“No, come look at it.”

You heard Brian sigh melodramatically, and soon he lumbered into the kitchen, stretching out the kinks in his muscles from sitting on the floor. “All right, show me.”

You showed him your phone, and he looked at it for a second, then his eyes flicked to you, accompanied with the most intense are you shitting me expression you’d ever seen on another human being. “That’s horrendous.”

You giggled. “I know.”

“I can’t believe I walked all the way in here for that.”

The microwave dinged, and you went to get the popcorn. You almost burnt your fingers, but you managed to get it out of the oven and peel it open.

“Ouch,” you said as you grabbed a few pieces and tossed them into your mouth. “Bri, open up.”

Brian opened his mouth, and you threw some popcorn at him, not aiming at all. It went all over him and the floor, and he sighed as you laughed. “God, you’re so fucking annoying,” he said, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

You shimmied your shoulders. “I know,” you said happily, trotting past him. You paused in the kitchen doorway to shimmy again, this time adding your hips, wiggling your butt at him, and then continued to the living room with the popcorn, getting comfy on the floor.

“You can’t just shake your arse at me,” Brian protested, following you. “That’s not fair.”

“You called me annoying,” you said. “I can do what I want.”

Brian groaned. “You’re so…” Before you knew it, he’d fallen to his knees beside you, snatched the popcorn bag from your hands, and captured your lips with his.

You still got a thrill when you kissed him, even after two months. It felt naughty, in a way, like there was something taboo about it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that everyone else you knew was getting into relationships, or wanting to get into relationships, and your arrangement with Brian was the antithesis of that. Maybe it was because you wasted so much time doing it, when you should’ve been studying, or working on an essay. Maybe it was because you’d never been so physically attracted to another human being before that there had to be something wrong with you, didn’t there?

Brian kissed you deep, kisses that were slow and controlled and drove you insane. You tried to go for his jeans, but he straddled you and grabbed your wrists, pinning them to your sides. Every time you tried to take some of the power back, escalating things or speeding them up, Brian just didn’t rise to it, didn’t take the bait, and it was so frustrating you wanted to scream.

Brian pulled back just enough to end the kiss. You tried to continue, but he ducked his head, as if to kiss your neck, so you let your head fall back, but he just pressed a single, infuriatingly light kiss to your pulse point.

“Oh my God, I hate you,” you growled.

“Oh, I’m annoying you, am I?” Brian said, beyond smug, and you wanted to kick him in the ribs.

“You fucking… This is entirely different,” you said. “You—“

Brian licked a stripe up your neck, and you felt the air leave your lungs like it had been sucked out with a vacuum.

“You bitch,” you said, but it came out sounding breathless and needy.

Brian chuckled, and you felt him bite your neck, softly, teasing.

Your lust-addled brain was scrambling to find a way to get control of the situation, to not let Brian win, so you fell back on instinct: making Brian feel repulsed. “Are you imagining I’m a hedgehog? A sexy, spiky hedgehog?”

It worked a treat. Brian recoiled, letting your wrists go, his nose screwing up. “Why? Why do you do that?”

You leant into the bit, refusing to back down. “What about a fox?” you said, giving him a salacious smile, putting your hands on his chest. “Want me to put on National Geographic?”

“You disgust me,” Brian said, sounding more tired and exhausted than anything else, and it delighted you.

You leant forward, into him, smoothing your hands up his thighs, your lips hovering just over his. “What do you say, Daddy?”

Brian went very still. He swallowed.

You paused, confused by the lack of reaction, and pulled back. “What?”

Brian’s face was red. “That was… uh. Um.”

“Sorry,” you said. “Nickleback?”

It was your safeword. Nothing kills the mood like Nickleback, Brian had said when he’d suggested it.

“No,” Brian said stiffly. “Not Nickleback.”

Wait. “Did you… Do you like me calling you Daddy?”

Brian blinked, looking away, and he cleared his throat. “I— Well—“

You took a moment to consider this, and then, taking it slow, so Brian had time to refuse if he wanted to, you kissed his neck just the way he liked, and he let out a breathy moan, one of his hands coming to twist itself into your hair.

You slipped your hands under his shirt, your nails scratching up his back, and your kisses moved down his neck. You bit at the hollow of his throat, making him moan, and you murmured against his skin, “You gonna fuck me good, Daddy?”

Brian let out a shaky breath. “Jesus Christ.”

You broke out into a smile of victory — it was always a bonus to discover a new kink, whether it was yours or Brian’s — and Brian roughly pulled you away to tilt your head up towards him, and he kissed you so passionately it made your head spin.

As if you weren’t wet enough, he let go of your hair to wrap his hand around your throat, and your stomach leapt with anticipation. He began applying pressure, and it felt so fucking good that you stopped kissing him, just feeling the way your body reacted, the way your veins fizzled with adrenaline as your fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, the way your airway opened to try to suck in as much air as it could, even though Brian wasn’t even restricting your airflow.

When he let go, the effect on you was instantaneous. Nothing turned you on more than Brian choking you, and it never failed to send you in a kind of frenzy. You grabbed onto Brian, kissing him, biting him, shoving your hands up the back of his shirt and clawing your nails down his back, just as he liked it, and he responded in kind, gripping your hair.

Brian broke the kiss, your foreheads pressing together, your eyes still closed.

“How long do we have the place to ourselves?” Brian asked.

“What’s the time?” you replied, blinking your eyes open.

Brian’s grip tightened on your hair — he was irritated that he had to let go of you, and you loved it — and he leant back, craning his neck to look at the clock on the wall. “Five to five.”

“It’s a Tuesday, so that means Lucy finishes later,” you said. “We have until about… ten past six.”

“Good.” Brian swooped in to kiss you again, but only for a moment; he got to his feet, wincing as his knees cracked, making you laugh, and he took your hands and helped you to yours. You made your way to your bedroom, having to pause your journey every so often when either you or Brian got too handsy and you couldn’t resist making out again, but eventually you made it, and Brian wasted no time in throwing your shirt off.

“I have to admit, I’m surprised,” you said as you easily slipped Brian’s shirt off him - you had to go on your toes to get it over his head - and dropped it to the floor.

“What?” Brian said, his hands going to your belt. The conversation was put on hold as he ducked his head to kiss you, and you moaned into his mouth. You both managed to undo each other’s belts blindly, but you had to separate again when Brian struggled with the button on your jeans.

“I didn’t know you that was a — thing, for you,” you continued, watching Brian’s fucking gorgeous fingers finally undo the button and yank down your fly. “Y’know. Being called Daddy.”

“I…” It was Brian’s turn to watch you work on his button and fly. “Um, neither did I.”

“I thought you—“ You finished your task and began shoving your jeans down your legs, and Brian did the same. “I mean, the other day, last week, whatever, when I called you Daddy, you looked, like, not at all happy. You made a face.”

“That was not an unhappy face,” Brian said. “That was a— a ‘wow, I did not expect to like that’ face.”

You laughed. “But we always make fun of people who say ‘Daddy’ unironically. Everyone jokes about it all the time. Especially Roger,” you added, “but you do too.”

“Yeah, I know,” Brian said. “But the way you say it, I just…” He abandoned the thought to finish taking off his jeans.

You bit your lip, watching him, waiting until he looked at you. When he did, you gave him a slow smile, basking in how transfixed he was by you, and you murmured, “Daddy.”

Brian shuddered. “Yeah,” he said weakly. “Yeah, like that.” He hesitated. “Do you— It isn’t too weird for you, is it? You don’t have to—“

“Dude,” you said, stepping over to him. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t okay with it. Honestly, at this point, it would have to be something mind-blowingly weird for me to not be okay with it.” You cupped the front of his underwear and gave him a squeeze, and he clenched his jaw, his eyes dark on your face. “Whatever turns you on, baby,” you said with a wink.

Brian gripped your hips, tugging you against him. “You turn me on,” he said. “Jesus, I— I’ve never met anyone who turns me on as much as you do.”

“Really?” you said, your fingers and toes tingling with excitement.

Brian nodded emphatically. “God, yes,” he said. “It never even occurred to me before you that I could just always be mildly turned on all the time just by being around another person. Especially not someone I’m, y’know, not romantically interested in. But the number of times I’ve thought about you when I’m—“ He cut himself off, glancing away, rubbing his jaw. “Um. Yeah. You… Yeah.”

Your heart was galloping, and your thoughts were occupied only by the desire to get Brian naked. “What do you think about?” you whispered.

You slipped your hand into Brian’s boxers, and curled your hand around him, jerking him off, not enough to frazzle his brain too much, but enough to get him interested.

He still wouldn’t look at you, closing his eyes, making a sound in the back of his throat.

“I bet it’s hot,” you said. “You think about fucking me hard? Making me scream like you always do? You’re so good at it. You always fuck me so good.”

Brian’s breathing grew uneven, and his hand went back to your hip. He was holding onto you like it was the only thing keeping his knees from buckling.

You kept your touch light, not changing the pace.

“Do you think about choking me?” you said. “Think about how hot it makes me? Think about how perfect your hand looks around my throat? Maybe how pretty I look when you tie me up and I’m all spread out for you. Maybe how fucked-out I look when you fuck my mouth. I know how much you love it. Do you think about that?”

“Fuck,” Brian groaned.

“Do you think about my nails down your back? How pretty and red your skin looks all scratched up? Maybe all the times I’ve sucked you off when our friends are in the room next to us, and you have to put a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet.” You tightened your grip just slightly, and Brian hissed, trying to buck forward into your hand, but you slipped your hand from his boxers, leaving him bucking into thin air, and he moaned.

“Is that what you think about when you get yourself off?” you prompted.

Brian nodded wordlessly, and went to kiss you, but you moved out of his reach. “You gonna use your words?” you teased.

Brian moaned again. “God.” It almost came out in a whine of frustration, and you felt warmth run down your body all the way to your toes. “Yes,” Brian ground out, finally opening his eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Dark and bright. “Yes, fuck, I think about all of that. I think about you in every single— scenario you could imagine. Literally whatever you can think of, I’ve thought about it. Because you drive me mental. And none of it compares to the real thing, which I’m really fucking hoping we’ll get to within the hour, if you’ll stop fucking about.”

You grinned. “You’re so patient with me,” you said. “I’ve trained you well.”

“I’m getting increasingly less patient,” Brian muttered.

You took one of his hands, bringing it to your face, slowly. You let his fingers rest against your lips. “I’m sorry,” you said, though you weren’t sorry at all.

Brian’s eyes were focused on your mouth. Watching his face, loving how horny it made him, you opened your lips, sucking two of his fingers into your mouth.

He moaned, biting his bottom lip. “You look fucking incredible doing that,” he murmured as you swirled your tongue around each finger. His other hand moved to your back, his fingers ghosting up and down your lower spine.

You let his fingers slide out of your mouth to say, “I love doing it. I love your hands.” You ran your tongue up his fingers and drew them into your mouth again, feeling the texture of them.

Brian’s other hand came to rest on your collarbones, his thumb against your throat. A promise. You felt excitement fizzle through you. “Good girl,” he said softly.

You paused. You’d never heard that one before.

“Sorry,” Brian said immediately. “I don’t know why I said that. That was too much.”

You let the new words sink in. You liked it.

You pulled off his fingers again. “I don’t think it was, Daddy,” you said.

Brian’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God,” he breathed.

“Unless you think it was,” you added quickly.

Brian shook his head. “No,” he said. “It— it sort of… works, doesn’t it? With me calling you — when you’re calling me…”

“Call me that again,” you suggested. “We can always veto it at any point.”

“That’s true,” Brian said. “I’m— It feels a bit weird calling you that, like, right now, so I’m just going to— I’ll wait.”

You nodded. “Okay. But I liked it, I think.” Brian’s fingers still rested against your mouth, and it was nice, in a strange way, to have them there. “It was hot, y’know, in the moment.”

“Good,” Brian said. “Otherwise that could’ve been—“

“Awkward, yeah,” you said with a laugh. You kissed his fingertips. “So, you gonna choke me, or…?”

Brian snorted a laugh. “You’re not exactly delicate, are you?”

“Never have been,” you said happily. You took his wrists, guiding his hands away, and leant in to kiss him.

You ended up on the bed somehow, with Brian kissing you while he held your wrists down above your head. If you’d had more time, you would’ve used the scarves that you kept in your closet for just this purpose — you hated wearing them, so you were glad that they were useful for something — but time was ticking, and both of you were anxious to move things along.

Brian had to let go of your wrists to move further down your body, tearing off your bra and giving your boobs the love they deserved.

You made a soft sound of pleasure, scratching your nails up and down Brian’s back where you could reach, and along his shoulders, and Brian tensed at the sharp pain of it, but you knew it wasn’t too much. You’d only ever had to stop when you’d almost made him bleed, and even then it had been you who’d noticed it, not him.

Brian went to move further down your body, but you tugged him back up, shaking your head.

“No?” Brian said.

“Choke me,” you said.

Brian nodded eagerly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Choke me, Daddy,” you added with a laugh.

“That is funny,” Brian said, “but also, please say that in your sex voice.”

You quirked your eyebrows at him, and then grabbed his hand, pressing it against your throat. “Please choke me, Daddy.”

Brian sat up and leant over you, then applied pressure on your throat, and your eyes slid closed, your head tilting back. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Yeah, Daddy, just like that. Feels so good.”

“Fuck,” Brian muttered. His grip tightened, and you whined.

Your mind went quiet, focusing only on the feeling of Brian’s hand around your throat. You couldn’t have thought about anything else if you’d tried.

Brian released his grip, and you felt your heart jump.

Your eyes opened. Brian was watching you with an expression you knew well, his cock pressed against his stomach, leaking pre-come. He looked delicious.

His hand stayed where it was.

“More?” he said.

You nodded. “Please, Daddy.”

“God, that’s so fucking hot,” Brian said, and did as you asked.

He kept his grip tight on your throat for so long that your body’s instincts really kicked in, giving you a surge of adrenaline that, in any other situation, would have made you panic. But not right now. Right now, it did something very different.

“Good girl,” you heard Brian say, and you whimpered.

He let you go, and you gasped, almost trembling with need. “Fuck me,” you demanded. “Fuck me literally right now, dude, I’m not even joking.”

Brian chuckled. “Choking you always works. Every time.”

“Yeah, because it’s really hot,” you said bluntly. “I’m like a waterfall down there right now. Get your dick in me. God.”

Brian laughed, and you batted his hand away to sit up, grabbing onto him and kissing him. You fell back onto the bed, Brian coming with you.

He was laughing against your lips, but you didn’t care. You did care, however, when you felt his fingers nudging at your entrance, and you nodded. He pushed a finger into you, and you spread your legs, making a muffled sound of frustration.

Brian pulled back. “What?”

“Hurry up,” you said. “Get those fingers up in there.”

You didn’t exactly help speed things up; you kept distracting Brian, nipping at his lip and neck, raking your nails up his back, taking his cock in your hand and jerking him off.

By the time you assured him that you were ready, you were both sweaty, breathless messes, and Brian’s hands shook with adrenaline so badly that he dropped the condom as he was trying to open the packet.

You, again, weren’t helping.

“Come on,” you whined, kneeling behind him, pushing his hair aside to kiss his neck, your hand curling around his front and squeezing the base of his cock.

”I’m trying,” he said. “It’s a little difficult when you’re— Got it.” As he rolled the condom onto himself, you moved your lips to his ear, kissing the bone behind it.

“You gonna fuck me good, Daddy?” you murmured. “I’m so ready for you. So wet for you, Daddy. All for you.”

He shuddered, a full-body shiver that made you grin.

“Done,” he blurted, and turned around to shove you onto your back.

You laughed, bouncing as you hit the bed, and Brian pounced on you, kissing you deeply. He took a brief pause to lube himself up, and he pushed into you soon after; although the burn was familiar, you still took a few moments to adjust the further he sank into you.

You threw your legs around his hips, and he began thrusting into you, and you wondered how the hell you’d gone your whole life up until a few months ago without him fucking you.

Soon, he panted into your ear, “Can I choke you?”

“Yes, fuck yes,” you said, and he paused, getting to the right position, making sure he could keep balanced, and then he was fucking you again. One hand came to press on your throat, and your eyes slid closed.

You’d come just from this before — Brian fucking you nice and deep while he cut off the blood supply to your brain. It didn’t happen all that often, and neither of you ever expected it to happen, but once or twice it had.

You could feel yourself teetering on the edge now, very nearly almost there, but you knew you’d need more.

Brian let your throat go, and you made a sound that was halfway between a moan and a gasp, and then his fingers were at your clit, and he said, “Good girl, Jesus Christ,” and no one was more shocked than you when you came unexpectedly.

Brian’s hips shunted forward at the feeling of you pulsing around him, and he moaned, and you were panting like you’d run a marathon, jerking from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

There was a moment of confused silence. You weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed or not.

“Did you just come?” Brian said, his voice pitched high in surprise.

You nodded. “Yeah,” you said breathlessly, pressing your palm to your forehead, staring at the ceiling. “Oh, God.”

“I thought I was going to finish soon,” Brian said with a laugh.

“That was… wow,” you said. “Okay. All right. I didn’t even realise I was that close.”

Brian hummed, and leant down to kiss the hollow of your throat. “It was sort of hot,” he said. “If I’m being honest.”

“Yeah?” you said.

“Mm.” Brian’s tongue brushed over where his lips had been, and your shoulders tensed, a light giggle slipping from you.

“Stop it, I’m ticklish there,” you said.

Brian kissed further up your neck. “Am I all right to keep going?” he said in between kisses. “You’re not too sensitive?”

“If you can make me come again before you’ve finished, I’ll buy you your groceries for the next two weeks,” you said.

Brian paused, then lifted his head. “My groceries, or my household’s groceries?”

You thought about it. “Just yours. I’m not made of money. And it would be a little suss if all of a sudden I was forking over, like, all of my savings to pay for a fortnight’s worth of food for four guys. You’d send me broke.”

“I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about it too much,” Brian said. “I was pretty close already.”

“Fine,” you said. “Two weeks’ worth of food. For the entire gang. If I come again before you do.”

Brian laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, all right. Already prepared to lose this one.” He kissed you, and you rolled your hips up to his, and he picked up where he left off.

You spent the next couple of minutes floating in that grey area of arousal, feeling turned on beyond belief, but knowing that you weren’t going to come. It didn’t matter, though, because you were more than happy where you were, and you also knew that you wouldn’t have to pay for a shit-ton of groceries.

Towards the end, though, you felt the beginnings of something within you, and, okay, maybe you did really want to come again.

You could tell Brian was close, and you urged him to go faster, harder. “You’re fucking me so good, Daddy, yes,” you panted.

Brian groaned. “I’m…”

You clenched around him, and his rhythm stuttered. “Come on, Bri,” you murmured. “You’re so close, I can feel it. Come on. Daddy. Daddy, please.”

Brian cried out as he came. You grinned, and let Brian take a moment before you rolled both of you over, so you were straddling him. His arms flopped out to the sides, and you laughed.

Your second orgasm was just out of reach, an itch you wanted to scratch, but it was easy enough to ignore, for now.

Brian ran his fingertips over your thighs, looking beautifully dishevelled. “How are you?” he said. “Do you need me to—“

“No,” you said. “No, I’m good.”

Brian squinted at you. “Are you lying?”

“No,” you said. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m fine.”

Brian sighed. “Right. All right.” He sat up and helped you dismount, then discarded his condom in the bin across the room. He climbed back on the bed and shoved your legs apart.

You gave him a quizzical look. “What are you doing?”

“Eating you out,” Brian said, like it was obvious.

“You don’t have to,” you said, unconvincingly.

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t,” Brian said.

“Well, do you want to?” you said.

“I always want to,” Brian said.

“You don’t even want to take a break first?”

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Brian said, getting comfortable and kissing the inside of your thigh. “I’m not done until you’re done.” He kissed your thigh again, much further up. “And are you done?”

You debated your response.

Brian’s kiss moved even further up. “You going to be a good girl for me?” he murmured, looking up at you with those dark eyes, and you felt your stomach jolt with arousal.

“Not done,” you blurted, shaking your head. “I’m not done.”

Brian huffed a laugh, and you let your head fall back.

This — Brian eating you out — was something, amongst other things, that the two of you had perfected down to a T. Usually it wasn’t something that happened straight after sex, but you’d done it before. And anyway, you were both very adaptable when it came to sex. Specifically, sex with each other.

Brian could just about slide three fingers into you without any further preamble, and his tongue really was something divine. You curled your hand into his hair, giving him murmurs of encouragement, you breath catching whenever he got just the right angle, just the right pressure.

It didn’t take long. You felt it building and building within you, and you breathed, “So close, yes, that’s it.” Brian knew exactly what to do, exactly how fast to go, and then your back was arching, and you came with a gasp and a cry.

Brian peppered kisses to your stomach, and you pushed at his shoulder. “I’m fucking ticklish, dude, stop it,” you said, squirming, and Brian crawled over you, landing heavily beside you on the bed.

“Done?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

You reached over and wiped off his face with your hand. “Yep,” you said. “Thanks, Daddy.”

You’d said it just to make him uncomfortable, and it worked a treat. Brian made a face. “Eugh. Not like that. Sounds weird if you say it like that.”

“Like what?” you said, feigning ignorance.

“Like I’m actually your dad and I’ve just, I don’t know, dropped you off at school.”

“What if I called you just ‘Dad’?”

“I would never speak to you again. And immediately get a restraining order.”

You laughed. “What about—“

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Brian said. “Before I regret ever telling you anything in the first place.”

You shuffled onto your front, letting your arm fall across Brian’s waist. “Can we just skip the lecture tomorrow?” you grumbled. “Let’s just stay here and have sex.”

“That’s a very appealing suggestion,” Brian said, “but I don’t think our future selves would be all that pleased when we don’t know anything for the exam.”

“We never know anything for the exam,” you said. “Everyone always has to teach themselves everything anyway.”

“Well, be my guest, if you want to stay home,” Brian said. “But I’ll be going.”

“Maybe I’ll just sleep with someone who’s available, then,” you said.

“Feel free.”

“Maybe Rog.”

Brian made a face. “Gross.”

You grinned. “In your bed.”

“All right, no, I know for a fact that Rog would never have sex in my bed. That’s crossing a line.”

“Would you have sex in his bed?”

Brian thought it over. “Maybe. If it was you, then maybe.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh?”

“That wasn’t a challenge,” Brian said. “I don’t want to have sex in Roger’s bed. I’m just saying, if there were no other options—“

“We’re definitely going to have sex in Roger’s bed,” you said with a grin.

Brian groaned. “No.”

“Okay, I’ll just have sex with Roger, then.”

“No!” Brian groaned even more loudly. “Then he’ll never shut up about it.” He paused, and then said, “Actually, he makes a lot of Daddy jokes. I’m curious now - do you think you could do some recon and figure out if he’s into it, too? I bet he is, the hypocrite. If you could, it would bring me so much joy. I’d be eternally grateful.”

You laughed. “We’ll have to see about that one.” You sat up, and climbed off the bed. “I’m going to shower. You can join me if you like, but you don’t have to.”

“I’ll shower after,” Brian said. “We always end up wasting water when we shower together. Which completely defeats the purpose of showering together.”

You shrugged. “Up to you,” you said lightly, heading to the bedroom door.

You hadn’t even opened the door when Brian blurted, “Okay, fine, I’m coming.”

You shot him a smile over your shoulder. “I wasn’t even trying to change your mind.”

“I think you were,” Brian said, as the two of you headed to the bathroom.

“I don’t think I was.”

“Hm, I think you were.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re so annoying.”

Brian laughed. “Ah, how the tables have turned!”

“Shut up,” you said. You swatted his hip. “Get in the shower.”

After the shower, you both got dressed and went back to studying. The popcorn was cold, and your roommate Lucy complained about the mess on the kitchen floor when she got home.

Nothing had changed, and it was perfect.

#brian may x reader #queen fanfiction #smut #rpf #mine #try verse

284 notes · View notes