#there's also a part of light. who's totally in denial that he should be a slitherin. that hates himself for falling for a Slytherin at

[star-eyed-angels]

Stray Kids Reaction | NSFW | Making Them Cry During Sex

The times you've made them cry during sex 

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: listen, I would just like to say that I should have regrets. But I don’t. Also it’s Minho’s fault entirely, His was the first part I wrote in this piece 

Warnings: crying (literally all of them) light bondage, sub/dom dynamics, nicknames, teasing, creampie, impregnation, slapping, orgasm denial, overstimulation, spit kink, face-sitting, cunnilingus, riding, handjobs (I’m more than likely missing something, please let me know if something needs to be added)

Read at your own discretion

________

CHAN

Chan who is tied to a chair. His ankles strapped to each leg of the chair to keep his legs spread. His hands bound behind the chair. The ropes delicately weaved from his wrists up to above his elbows. You know better than to give him an easy out to break free from his restraints. Besides, it also gets you off watching him so helpless, when he’s normally the one in control. 

His eyes well with tears as he groans, his hips bucking up uselessly. You’re riding him so well, he can’t think straight anymore.

“Fuck princess please. Please let me cum, please baby, need to fill you up,” He sobs as you run your hands over his chest. 

He groans in pain as your hips slow to a lazy drag over his cock. His orgasm fading away slowly. You rake your fingers down his chest, smirking at the red marks your nails leave.

“You promised I could use you as much as I wanted as a treat, don’t you remember Channie?” you say, your voice sickeningly sweet as you clench around him. 

His eyes roll to the back of his head, a lightheaded feeling clouding his brain.

“Yes- yes baby I remember…” he says in a daze. 

The feeling of your warm walls around him driving to the brink of insanity. He’s so ready to do whatever you say. Hell, he’d get on his knees and beg you if that’s what you asked. As long as he can press your hips tightly to his as he fills you to the brim with his cum he doesn’t care what you ask him to do.

You can see that he’s on the edge. And you intend to use it to your advantage.

He lets out the loudest moan as you pick your pace back up. His arms fighting against the restraints to get his hands on you.

“So sit still and let me use your cock Channie, be good for me yeah?” 

MINHO

“Open your mouth,” you command. 

Minho glares up at you, normally it would send you straight to your knees. But tonight is different, tonight you’d both agreed to try something new. Normally it’s Minho above you, taking charge and guiding your every move. Tonight, after some careful conversations, he’d agreed to let you take the reins.

He’s taken your normal place, kneeling on the bed with his hands in his lap. His gaze turned up at you as you stand at the edge of the bed, looming over him.

You raise your hand, slapping Minho across the face. He groans as you grip his cheeks in your hands, forcing his lips to part. 

“That wasn’t a request. Open your mouth and stick your fucking tongue out,” 

He lets his tongue out, looking up at you with hooded eyes. You watch the pleasure course through him as you spit in his mouth. It’s strange to watch him so lost in pleasure, teetering on an edge you’re so used to sitting on. But you also can’t deny the heat that pools in your belly at the sight. 

“That’s a good boy,” you coo as he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing as he does it. 

Minho’s eyes go glassy, as his lip trembles. He turns his face away, even as you run your hands through his hair. 

“What’s wrong? You don’t have to hide, go ahead and cry baby, I know you like that I’m treating you like this,” your voice low as lean down. The hand you have in his hair tightens, yanking his hair to make him face you. Minho whimpers, his face going red as he looks at you with dazed eyes. His face is flushed as stares up at you. Tears finally slipping out of the corners of his eyes, leaving glistening trails in their wake.

His hands gripping his thighs as he does his best not to squirm in place. You offer him a twisted smile, your free hand trailing down the side of his neck. You take pride in the way he keens at your touch. 

“Please, please don’t stop,” he begs quietly. 

And who are you to deny him when he looks so pretty while he begs?

CHANGBIN

It’s not uncommon for you and Changbin to end up in bed after a fight. It’s become a routine almost, you’d both take time to cool off, talk it out, and then make up between the sheets. You both loved the intimacy of it all, being able to convey your feelings through soft touches and sweet kisses better than with words. 

Tonight hadn’t been different, a small misunderstanding had led to yelling and slammed doors. But you were both quick to find each other, each apologizing before you ended up underneath Changbin.

However, tonight you notice changbin is much quieter, ticking his face against your shoulder as he makes love to you. The silence doesn’t bother you until you hear a small sniffle near your ear. 

“Changbin?,”You rub your hand up Changbin’s back, sniffling is all you get in response. you move your hands to his hips, pushing at them to get him to stop moving.

“Baby, please look at me,” Changbin finally stops, still refusing to look at you. 

“Binnie,” you gently pull his face away from your neck. His watery eyes meet yours as he pouts.

“I’m so sorry baby, I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, I-I was just upset,” he cries softly. You smile, kissing his cheeks as you wipe his tears away.

“I know, it’s okay Bin,” you coo softly, “It was the heat of the moment, we both said things we didn’t mean. But we’re good now, okay?”

He stares down at searching for any signs that you’re lying. He only finds you staring up at him with a small smile on your face. He finally nods, his hands pulling you closer to him.

“I love you so much, never want you to forget that,” he kisses you softly, his hips slowly picking up their pace. You moan into the kiss, your I love you coming out breathless against his lips. 

“Let me show you just how much I love you baby, show you how much you mean to me,” his kisses traveling down your neck. You can only nod as his thrusts speed up, rendering you completely speechless.

HYUNJIN

This isn’t the first time you’ve had sex with Hyunjin. You’ve been together for a few months, but everything still feels so new. That’s Hyunjin’s doing of course, he’s made every moment of your relationship feel special,precious even. Now is no different.

Hyunjin who holds your hands above your head, lacing your fingers with his. He smiles down at you as you stare at him looking so lost in his eyes. 

“How are you feeling honey?” he checks in, rubbing his thumb against your wrist softly. You give him a dopey smile, hiking your legs up further around his waist. 

“So good Hyunnie, it's so good,” you moan. He hums, leaning down to run his lips across your cheek. 

“You’re so pretty baby, love having you like this,” his voice is soft against your cheek. You shiver at the feeling, whispering his name softly. 

“Jinnie…”

“Yes sweetheart?” 

“I-” Your eyes water as you look up at him. The words are stuck on the tip of your tongue, but you're so lost in him you can't quite get them out.

He pauses his movements. Even with his hips still the pleasure is overwhelming. 

“Do you need me to stop, baby? Is it too much?,”

“Hyunjin, I love you,” your lip trembles, as you get the words out. 

Hyunjin is frozen in place, his eyes wide as he stares down at you. The silence makes you panic, ready to take the confession back immediately. Before you can, Hyunjin smiles the biggest smile you’ve ever seen, tearing up as he leans down to kiss you again.

“I love you too,” he says softly, his voice sounding choked up. You kiss him back desperately, squeezing his hands he still has locked in yours. 

Hyunjin pulls back to look at your face again. A dopey grin is still plastered on his face, his eyes a little teary. His hips pick up speed as he kisses up the side of your face. Mumbling the I love yous with each of his thrusts, sending you spiraling into pleasure. 

JISUNG

Jisung is quite honestly addicted to eating you out. It’s a pretty safe assumption to say he probably loves it more than you do. Recently he’d been obsessed with trying to have you sit in his face, practically begging you to try it once. 

You were still a little hesitant when you straddled his chest, letting Jisung pull where he wanted you. The second Jisung’s tongue meets your core, you’re whining into the open room. He notices the way you hover, still unsure of everything. He pulls away from his ministrations, instead moving to pepper kisses along your inner thighs sweetly. 

“Pretty, what’s the point of having you sit on my face if you’re all shy, hmm?”

“I feel like I’m gonna hurt you Ji,” you admit, peering down at him between your legs. 

“You won’t, promise. Just let yourself go and use me to make yourself feel good, okay?” he runs his hands over your hips softly, waiting for your response. 

When you shyly nod he gives your thigh a final kiss before pulling you firmly down against him. 

You slowly begin to work your hips against his tongue, moaning softly at the feeling. Jisung looks up at you, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head as he watches you pleasure yourself above him. The groan he lets out against you spurs you on. Your hips quick as you work yourself over Jisung’s face.

“Fuck… Sungie, feels so good baby,”

He blinks up at you, his eyes starting to water from lack of oxygen. It only heightens the pleasure for him, his movements hungry as eats you out faster. His cock strains against his boxers. His hips chasing the smallest friction from the fabric.

“There, stay right there,” you whimper, hands tightening in Jisung’s hair. 

Jisung grips your hips, forcing you down on his face harder. He intends to devour you whole, the need to breathe be damned. If he suffocates between your thighs so be it, the sight of you above him falling apart against his tongue would be well worth it. 

You cum with a loud whine, frantically grinding over Jisung’s mouth. The feeling sends him further over the edge. He lets out a cry of your name through a choked moan. He cums untouched as he helps you through your high. When you both come down, he helps you off of him, the biggest of grins plastered on his face. 

FELIX

The sex with Felix is filled with giggles and sweet words. Sweet nothings whispered between passionate kisses. It starts out giggly, high off the thought of starting a family with each other. What started with silly late night conversations has built up to this moment. Maybe it won’t happen this very night, but just the mere idea that it could, has you and Lix practically tearing each other’s clothes off. He’s careful when he presses into you. The feeling of you wrapped around his bare cock only adding to the giddiness he feels. 

“I can’t wait to start a family with you, baby,” you sigh dreamily. 

“Me too angel. Wanna have a little one of us running around here,” his hips twitching at the thought of you pregnant. You giggle, your breath hitching as Felix thrusts deepen.

“Want them to have your smile,” you sat tracing across the curve of his lips. 

“You think they’ll have your eyes? god , if they have your eyes I’m doomed,” he laughs getting lost in your eyes with you beneath him.

“One look and I’ll give them everything they ask for.”

“You’re gonna spoil them regardless Lix,” you tease back.

He hums, watching you for another moment. His smile falters slightly, hips stilling as he cups your cheek. 

“And you’re sure you want this?” he runs his thumb across your cheekbone delicately. 

“I know we talked about it. But-well if you’re not sure we can always wait or-”

You shut him up with a kiss.

“Lix, I want this more than anything. I want to have a baby with you. Want to spend the rest of my life with you,” you say between gentle kisses.

He pulls back searching for any hesitation. He only finds you staring up at him, practically glowing from joy before him. He smiles, pulling you closer, practically wrapping you around him.

“I love you,” he says between his own kisses. He’s breathless, as are you, from the pleasure of it all. His eyes watery as he whispers to you. You’re confident yours are just as watery, if not more.

“I love you more,” you whisper back.

This only spurs him on further, cradling you against him as he makes love to you, fully intent on getting you pregnant tonight at all costs.

SEUNGMIN

It all started with Seungmin clowning you when you cried after making you cum four times. He’d been quick to tease you after the fact, calling you a cry baby for not being able to handle the pleasure. The teasing turned into a bet, when you challenged him not to cry after the same amount of orgasms. Seungmin never being one to back down from a challenge agreed. And oh how he wishes he’d never agreed to this.

It’s after his third orgasm that he begins to curse his past self for being a cocky shit.

A loud moan escapes him as he cums, your hips never faltering in their pace. Every nerve on his body feels like it's on fire as you quite literally ride him like your life depends on it.

The sound of your hips meeting his fill the empty room. The lewd slaps and heavy breathing cloud his mind further. His hands grip your hips, attempting to keep you in place as he comes down from his third high.

“Fuck baby, please I can’t - please slow down,” he begs. He’s so lost in his pleasure you don’t think he notices the glassy haze in his eyes. But you sure as hell do. You smirk, picking up your pace. 

“What’s wrong minnie? Thought you could handle this?” you say clenching around him on purpose. 

He whines, his hips moving on their own accord at this point. Whether they’re trying to chase or get away from yours he isn’t quite sure at this point. 

“You’re gonna give me one more, I know you have one more in you,” you repeat the all too familiar words to him. He whines at your teasing, as if he hadn’t said that to you before.

“I- I can’t,” he whimpers, still desperately gripping your hips. 

“You can and you will,” you say firmly. Seungmin doesn’t know if it's from how sensitive he is or if it’s the way authority drips from your voice as you say it. But next thing he knows he’s coming inside you for the final time. A choked moan leaves his lips as tears spill over his cheeks. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeats between little sobs, as his release crashes over him. You keep moving your hips until he’s come down before carefully sliding off of him. His sobs eventually stop as you delicately clean him with a warm cloth. 

You lean over and kiss him gently as you lay against his chest. He hums becoming unusually clingy as he pulls you into him. It’s quiet for a few moments before he finally speaks.

“Okay…You win,” he huffs out quietly.

JEONGIN

Jeongin feels delirious at this point. He’s lost track of how long you’ve had him like this. Completely naked in the middle of your bed.  Your hand on his cock, ruining each and every one of his orgasms. 

Now a black cock ring sits around him. It’s almost painful with the way it squeezes around his aching cock. He’s never known something so painful to feel this good.

“Need to come so bad, please!” He cries out. He's past the point of being ashamed that he’s crying.

You ignore him in favor of speeding up your hand movements, swiping your thumb across his slit with every stroke. He hates and loves how nonchalant you are about this. How you kiss up the side of the neck sweetly while making him fall apart at your fingertips. 

His body feels hot all over, he’d  do anything at this point just to get you to give him some release. 

The only thing his brain can think to do is beg. 

“Y/n, please, please just let me cum, please,” he begs, voice truly broken.

You answer in the form of slipping the ring off of him, twisting your wrist as you glide it over him. “Coming, fuck I’m coming-“ he lets out a high pitched whine, his hips bucking into your hand quickly. 

A wrecked sob escapes as he cums practically wailing from the pleasure coursing through him. You’re gentle as you stroke him through his orgasm. He throws a hand over his face as he cries. He’s so lost in the euphoria that rushes through him he fails to notice the sadistic smirk you wear. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you Innie,” you say softly. Stroking your free hand through his hair gently. 

He’s quiet as he comes down from his high, letting you pull him to lay against you. You wait until his breathing evens out before breaking the silence.

“Innie?”

“Yeah?”

“You good?” you ask, running your fingers over his back softly. He huffs out a laugh.

“Baby, you just made me cry from pleasure,” he says, turning to the side to look at you, “I’m pretty sure if I tried to stand, I'd crumple straight to the floor, so yeah. It was good.” 

You roll your eyes, kissing up the side of his neck.

“Don’t worry, it’ll wear off eventually,” you say softly.

He’s both alarmed and excited at your words. 

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #skz #skz smut #skz reactions #skz imagines #writing #✍🏼

[whysojiminimnida]

so let's out jhope as bisexual?? your insider info is just as bad as the stalkers bts have. totally inappropriate. but you're just a small tumblr blog why should it matter? it 100% does. there is something wrong with you. it's not your place to be giving this info to anyone unless you are an attention seeker. Dont read your blog right if you don't like it?? shame on you really. it's nobody's place to out anyone elses sexuality EVER.

Oh my Lord, Frances. Calm DOWN. I mean the man literally did this back in July in front of how many people? Are you even aware of Equal Sign?

I can't win with some of y'all and yet here you are to school me regardless. Which I would appreciate had I not my own Korean gay couple to explain things, had I not been intimately involved with the unstr8 community since before your birth most likely, had I not lost friends to AIDS when that was still a thing. And since I'm feeling generous I'mma school your sensitive ass right back so since you're here just have several seats and pay attention. SCHOOL IS IN SESSION.

"Somebody I know says he is openly bisexual" is EXACTLY THE SAME THING AS "someone I know says he's straight" WITH ONE DIFFERENCE. That difference is negligible in much of the world but in some places I will readily agree that it's not. Korea is one of those places. That's a dude on that bed, btw. In case you were unclear about the message.

We all knew Hobi was bi back then. You did too, don't lie because your white horse got a cramp. Give the crusade a lil rest and let's ride right along. See, in Korea it is one thing to BE part of the alphabet mafia. It is another thing entirely to SAY it. Out loud. And you are correct that in those exact words, Hobi has never verbatim-ly said it. But honestly, you're coming off with a lot of internalized biphobia or a serious denial issue if you can't extrapolate the message from the above imagery alone, much less his lyrics. To his own music. Which he released publicly and has performed in front of, what, a hundred thousand people or so? Live? Plus it's right there on Hulu and Youtube if you're concerned about his level of visibility. Of course he also did this:

And I don't know about you but for me it's a little harder to ignore the specificity of the color arrangement of those gloves in light of his performance. But see here's the thing, he's never really hidden his bisexuality from us. Very much like other unstr8 BTS members, he has openly chosen to use inclusive pronouns in his music. He has worn many, many items - far too many to list here - in support of inclusivity, knowing well that some, even most people would see support as personal identification. He has smilingly played the court jester knowing that some people would ignore him, some would validate him, and some would use him to virtue-signal as a cover for their own dis-ease.

To ignore that is to ignore the totality of Jung Hoseok as a person and is far more disrespectful, in my own admittedly tiny corner of the internet. You do you, if it makes you feel better. I just can't magine any straight man filming entire videos in a Gucci pride flag sweater without a certain amount of personal input.

Not to point out the obvious but also, would a straight guy really voluntarily share a room with Park Jimin for YEARS?

On PURPOSE?

I mean we all know Jungkook was literally sleeping with Jimin in that bed on the left, we have the receipts and admissions, ain't nobody honestly and truly confused at this point. Again, it's a matter of degrees of difference, but in Hobi's case it's a pretty big degree. Being a single bi dude who also DOES IN FACT like and date women is a very far cry, Korean-militarily-speaking, from being a committed gay couple. It's not even in the same realm, honestly, and that whole military question is a hot mess I'm not going to deal with here. But I knew you were thinking about it so I thought I'd mention it.

Irene ain't care, bro. She's out there hitting the rainbow and fire emojis every damn time he posts. And if you need to take a deep breath and have another look at why you're so bothered that people around Hobi don't hide who he is, maybe go on and do that. Because his friends know him better than we do, okay. And they love him, as do (hopefully) we all. I do. And if I thought for one instant that my saying he is openly bi would hurt him, I would never. I run a "Jeon-Parks are gay/fucking/married in all but name" blog, for heaven's sake. I really don't think anyone expects me to be saying anything other than the blatantly obvious. If that suuuuuper hurts your feelings and makes you angry, please feel free to locate your nearest J-Hope "Under The Rainbow" photo and use it to vacate the premises.

There it is!

I did not out this man. He outs himself without my help.

#there's always a hobi #bisexual king #i'd say thanks anon but i'm getting salty #so i appreciate your input kinda but that's as far as i go

[ninhaoma-ya]

Chapter 1086 — The Five Elder Planets

What a great chapter to leave off on a break for! The theorizing will go wild…

First, Igaram's concern for Vivi is touching:

…while Pell and Chaka are looking out for their king, as the guardian deities of Arabasta should.

Something is in the air, if the faces of the other royals are anything to go by. They don't look like a happy bunch; rumours from the last leg of the Reverie?

Second, have I already said how much I love the WE HQ? It's a flying kettle! That shoots out News Coos!

I love it.

I wonder at what point Wapol caved and told Vivi what had happened to her dad. They said she'd been crying when they arrived at the WE HQ, so before current day events, but here he's still trying to deflect her questions. Maybe she figured it out from his denial? Maybe he just told her? Who knows (I want to know).

And then, totally unnecessary fandom speculation!

About a ship!

(Poor lil' Bonney. I'm sure being pint-sized helped her get aboard the ship easier, but it also underlines her quest: she is literally a child on her way to save her father.)

(By the way: in our universe, Tajine is a North African dish, also known as maraq or marqa.)

The drawing order and perspectives makes it look like Sabo is lying in the stem/front. Normally the sides mainly bulge outward from the keel, but here the planks curve distinctly up. However, when looking at traditional sailing ships, the shape doesn't work that way there:

(Link)

It can look like that in the aft:

(Link)

The other explanation might be an assistant's perspective mistake when drawing the bilge, or Lulusia's ship has a quite rare inward-bulging bow.

One of the few examples I found is the dhow, an Arabic ship:

(Link), although the 3D model can give a better view of the keel and curvature:

(Link)

So either Lulusia has a really, really cool royal ship, or there's some perspective shenanigans going on.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled analysis.

So.

…the floor is so horribly at odds with the rest of the room. Just sayin'.

Presenting: the SECOND tangent of the post.

During the 15th to 17th centuries, so covering reneissance, baroque and rococo, intricate decorations were the thing to have. The exact style and execution varied, of course, but you still were supposed to have so much detailing all over the place, both due to structural reasons (hiding those load-bearing columns and beams and servants and such) and style (look at all the money I have to put on this stuff).

Pangea Castle looks quite a bit like the Château de Chambord, so smack dab French reneissance architecture. Normally, you'd do parquet floors in the fancier parts of the castle, which means geometric and rectangular, like so:

(Link)

Of course, you could do circular, but then it'd probably be inspired by Roman mosaics, and thus geometric and repetitive, like so:

(Link 1, Link 2)

The floor in Pangea Castle is… just weird. I know there's probably art-related reasons for it (looks interesting, not as boring as a grid, etc), but the polka dot pattern really sticks out.

End of second tangent, s'il vous plaît.

Oda truly is a master storyteller.

The readers have been going bonkers for a few months now, trying to figure out what Devil Fruit powers Imu has based on the complete eradication of Lulusia. Is it star power? Is it nuclear? Is it pure light? Is it something completely different?

And then it turns out to be the One Piece-version of nuclear weapons, completing the parallells between Vegapunk and Einstein: both brilliant scientists who wanted to work for peace and the good of humanity, but whose insights were quickly weaponised.

It i also interesting to see how quick the Five Elders are to accept that Imu wants to eradicate a whole kingdom who is part of the World Government. I figure this might lead to more rebellion. After all, what is it worth to be a member of the WG if you're still not protected against horrible acts of violence? The only reason shown so far for people want to join the WG is based on pirates and the navy: they get protection and pay for the Celestial Dragons upkeep. I can't see this continuing much longer when the news about Lulusia get out – because at least Vegapunk will put two and two together. It was his invention being used, after all.

We have names!

Which might change when the official translation comes out!

But still. Interesting selections. Finance might comprise all financial activity, but why is then agriculture (food production) separate from environment (nature itself)? Mercantile activity is quite far from macroeconomic theories, which makes the lumping of all economic stuff under one heading quite interesting.

THERE IS A S-FLAMINGO!

My life is now complete.

I wonder why S-Croc looks so sad, though. S-Gecko and S-Flamingo looks like they're having the time of their lives, after all.

Also: what powers do they have? All the possibilities!

I wonder what Dragon is wondering about. He has a lot of ellipses this chapter and few words to spare. Does he agree with Sabo's decision to keep silent and live the lie? Does he disapprove? What does Iva-chan think about it all?

Ancient weapon, my old friend? The Arc Maxim 2.0? Something Completely Different?

(Also: traditional European-style ship depicted here as Lulucia's vessel. Yet the dream for a dhow still lives on!)

Jumping a bit, but Iva puts all our thoughts into words here so neatly:

In Egghead, Vegapunk says it's his dream to create the ultimate energy source. However, he doesn't say he's managed to do so yet: he's still working towards it. Therefore the thing Sabo saw probably wasn't an ancient weapon – or if it was, it wasn't at full power. Or then it was a "fire once and find another mother flame"-solution.

Whatever it was, it was horrible news for the people of Lulusia.

And then: the identity of Imu.

There's so many theories going on, tying Imu to the Roman emperor Nero or the city of Verona or the small coastal village of Nerano , also in Italy. From where we get to another Roman emperor, who is actually called Nerona: Tiberio Nerone, also known as Tiberius, an able politician who spent his last years on the island of Capri.

I'm sure we'll see where Oda draws his inspiration from sooner or later.

And the other big reveal of the chapter: the Figarland family.

(I don't think Oda will kill off Mjosgard. He is sentenced, he is not dead yet. Will the solution be banishment, a figurative death? We'll see, I'm sure.)

(I like the moon hair!)

(Edit: The cake line had me wheezing. Seriously. Scared the cat.)

I haven't seen Film Red yet, but as I gather from others, it's revealed that Shanks is a Figarland. He was also found on God Valley by Roger, so putting two and two together, we get a family connection.

However, what I'm interested in is the rankings of Celestial Dragons.

a) Saint Figarland Garling was a king

b) He is a Celestial Dragon

c) He has the power to be both judge, jury and probably executioner

How does it all fit together?

CDs are hitherto shown to just laze around in Mary Geoise and sometimes descend into the plebeian world for their own amusement. None of them is shown to be involved in the world as kings – that's the thing they specifically abdicated from 800 years ago. So why was Figarland a king? What was his role on God Valley – and what was God Valley?

So interesting! Much to think about.

I give the chapter thumbs up for lore drops and the chance for a well-deserved rest.

#one piece #ch 1086 #nin reads one piece #opspoilers #one piece spoilers #science! #history #ship facts #architecture

[lunkos]

O, Q, Z [ coven? ] C, K, M [ varian? ] :o

Dirty A-Z headcanon game ⸻ @hellhunted

O - Outdoor sex (have they ever done it in public? would they? where?)

you wouldn't catch cove dead having sex outside, he's way too shy for something so bold. he's more of a bedroom, under the sheets, with the lights off type of guy. that isn't to say he couldn't be prompted to try by the right person, maybe, but he'd definitely be on edge the entire time and more than likely whine and complain about how stupid of an idea it is.

Q - Quiet please (what’s the volume like in the bedroom? are they quiet? do they scream? do they like a loud partner? do they prefer if their partner is more soft spoken?)

he's oddly quiet, mostly because the noises he can make when turned on or feeling good embarrass the hell out of him. often he'll be seen biting his inner lips or cheek to stop himself from making any noise at all. if he's bottoming coven would definitely be the type to prefer face shoved into a pillow and ass up, but as a top he's more inclined to bite his partner or shove his face in their neck / chest to muffle the noises he makes. as for whether or not he prefers if his partner is loud is totally dependent on who they are, but honestly he likes both loud and quiet people.

Z - Zones (what are their erogenous zones? what spots on their body should be touched, bitten, kissed, when someone wants to get them in the mood?) 

coven isn't a super sensitive person, he's not even ticklish! but if i had to choose a few parts of his body that would turn him on if touched i'd say his hair [ playing with, pulling, anything like that ] and the back of or the nape of his neck. no particular reason as to why, he's just a simp for people who pet him like a dog and kiss his neck lmao.

C - Crying (is it a turn on? a turn off? do they cry during sex? have they cried during sex? what was the reason?) 

varian is a selfish lover, and if he weren't married to freya who is also a selfish lover he'd have a hard time finding someone who'd put up with his bullshit in bed; he enjoys mildly torturing his partner with sex play like edging and denial while finding it attractive when it brings them to tears. it's a sense of power he holds over a partner that turns him on, but tears outside of sex make him sad and uncomfortable. he's not a monster, most of the time.

K - Kissing (what parts of their body do they like having kissed? what parts of their partner do they enjoy kissing? do they like leaving marks / having marks left on them?) 

he's a passionate kisser! very overtly romantic, sweep you off your feet type of guy with a proclivity for hovering over his lovers lips and breathing in their scent all the while. he likes to kiss freya's hands and fingers, her cheek and the spot just behind her ear to get her going; and he loves being given attention just the same. when it comes to marking, he liked it more when he was younger but now if he does it it's often where no one can see it. professionalism and all.

M - Masochism (do they like pain? scratching? biting? being bossed around? spoken down to? choked?) 

to an extent, yes, varian is very much a masochist [ and also a sadist. ] he likes to feel nails digging into his back, canines sinking into his skin, the feeling of his wife's slim fingers around his neck as she rides him. but with that also comes his own interest in inflicting pain, and he's far more prone to that then letting his partner hurt him. with their consent, of course.

#hellhunted #coven: bitch baby #varian: daddy

[lighthouseborn]

you know i have dabbled in post-canon henry & will stuff and poked it a bit and sometimes it ends up awkward and i think there is a merit to it being awkward or uncomfortable or a little difficult to figure out who, exactly they are to each other.

but also really very so much my most favorite part of the renunion scene is that. there is one (1) bit of hesitation, and it's actually on henry's part. because he's holding all the cards, technically, he knows what happened and how it happened and who he's standing opposite. whereas there is this moment, will isn't exactly sure who he's approaching –and i don't think it's a total uknowing i think it's an uncertainty from a kind of denial because there's something inherently unjust about it all even when the curse is a thing that saved his life, which it did, that that is his son standing there just ever so slightly taller than him and ever so slightly shy of being grown all the way up– and he has to ask. so henry is technically the one holding back long enough to face that question (oof) and confirm the truth and then. what happens is will hugs him and henry seems! a little bit shocked! just for a second. and then. oh it is so easy. it's so easy! and it's light and it's laughter and it's that oh-so-knowing head swat because surely whatever henry did it's worth that little bit of a swat to the head (and it really, really is) and it's. so easy! arm in arm and smiles. and i just think obviously that's what you pick when this is your ending scene. because this is a fairy tale and you're at the page that goes 'all lived happily ever after'. and i think you can go "it was a little awkward after that" and be saying something real and important but i also think. what if it was just easy? it does seem like it should be easy. they've earned easy, surely, not that you have to earn happiness, but in the sense of something as a myth sometimes you do and i think they have so what if it was just. easy.

#you need the ocean for this: to stop believe in reality ( franchise study. ) #dyn — ( henry & will. )

[eldritch-queern-magicat]

Joan, Lucifer, and Alucard among others stuffed into the same subsystem. Mulan, two different characters named Sora. Light, Lelouch, and another vampire from an anime that will go unnamed. Oh, plus a Vocaloid song character and an actual cat. And who knows what else.

What the fuck happened?

The answer is severe repeated trauma.

Sammy is just warped. This mess also has my brain screaming bullshit at me because this is too scary. When he expressed himself through writing, we still felt separate. Before, we could go, here's this character and these are their traits, not related to us. But we've realized that's not the case anymore. Those traits are our feelings. We're really fucked up in the head.

At the moment, I'm dealing with denial because the entire system seems so complicated and I can barely keep up. I don't know if Sammy's subsystem is the most complex. There seem to be a few small subsystems, but I'm also not sure I totally understand what a subsystem is. He is a composite, though.

Yes, he's prideful. That should be obvious. Even though he definitely has always been the one guiding us along over time. He's not exactly immune to our general ego. He kind of has to be the one most on top of things. But gods, he's fucking deranged.

And apparently it makes him the most familiar with how we work. But he's also impatient and has the attention span of a cat.

He says he's like internal security, but he's been involved in every bump forward to realizing what's been going on in our head. Literally, in some way.

Still struggling with understanding we're just parts of a whole. This is really hard, and I'm an absolute mess.

-Kane ⚰️😺

#dissociative identity disorder #alters #did system #did #dissociation #introjects #fictives #fictrojects #factives #factroject #tw trauma #tw abuse #tw child abuse #mental illness #ptsd #subsystem #mentally fucked #creative writing #my characters #vent #ramblings #denial

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Soooooooo... because I’ve completely lost my mind: “Light and L in Hogwarts during the year that Harry Potter was” AU ideas (and I know a lot of people have already written them into Hogwarts, so I’m probably just unknowingly copying people’s ideas. But shh).

Light is a Gryffindor and L is a Slytherin (same year). Really, Light should also be a Slytherin, of course. But this helps them to be rivals better. He probably asked the Sorting Hat to put him in Gryffindor--ala Harry--and the Sorting Hat took his choice into consideration.

And they are rivals. Because like in canon, they’re very much the same and Foils to each other. They both definitely become prefects and Head Boy of their year (sorry, Ron. I guess I’m stealing prefect from you for this AU. I’m so sorry, baby!). And everyone is constantly comparing the two, so they hate each other at first. They’re also both on their respective Quidditch teams, because of course they’d be. I’m imagining they’re Beaters, because “he who attacks first, wins”, and since Harry’s still got to be Gryffindor Seeker.

And getting the obvious out of the way: L loves Honeydukes, of course.

But I imagine the reason these two start to become friends is this: Light realizes there’s something wrong with Snape jumps down Harry’s throat on his first day. Like, he reads fear and humiliation on Harry’s face or something--or knows that even the most basic wizard should have known the answers Snape was asking about--he questions him about it... To which Harry admits that he didn’t even know he was a wizard--or about the wizarding world--until a few days ago. Though I doubt Harry would be this open about it to a stranger, but shh. And this ticks Light off--to know that Harry’s aunt and uncle treated him so dirty, and that Professor Snape just made this poor, defenseless kid look like an idiot--and he plans to go to Snape about it. But anyway, L had secretly been listening this whole time--but hiding like a cat--and he makes his appearance known now. He’d come to the same conclusions and also wants to help Harry out, because he’s “justice” too, after all. And it’s here that Light and L develop a grudging respect for each other. And they probably do go to Snape. But Snape being Snape doesn’t listen to them, and he takes points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin for their “insolence”... At which point, they might decide to make Snape’s life a living Hell, and thus a friendship begins.

The two of them totally become aurors when they graduate, and enjoy seeing Harry and Ron at work.

Light and L may think that Ron isn’t the smartest wizard in the world--and somewhat un-deserving to hang out with Harry and Hermione--at first, but their opinion of him changes pretty quickly. And even when they did think this of him, they didn’t dislike Ron. They liked the dude pretty well, since Ron’s pretty sociable, but just didn’t think he would ever be a rival to them. Let’s put it that way. But when they learn about all that Ron does in his, Harry, and Hermione’s adventures, they give him mass respect.

Light and L are the biggest supporters of Neville Longbottom that you’ll ever see, as they both saw his potential and realized pretty soon that it was abuse keeping him from unlocking his full potential. 

Light and L are “fans” of Harry at first--though not starstruck--and then just flat-out respect the Boy Who Lived once he just becomes one of their peers. Granted, they don’t think baby Harry really did anything to earn all his fame... but you’ve still got to give it to the infant that somehow tripped up Lord Voldermort and stopped his reign of terror.

Light and Hermione... get on pretty well. I’d maybe go as far as to say they’re acquaintances. And, naturally, everyone thinks they should date: since they’re the two smartest Gryffindors and prefects. But this would never happen. They probably even laugh at the idea together. Hermione has just never had any interest in Light, for whatever reason (maybe because she had a crush on Ron pretty early on). And Light is most definitely gay.

I forgot to mention that L in this is probably a clue to the Golden Trio earlier on that Slytherins aren’t all bad.

Speaking of: L and Draco are friends (but only because Draco’s pretty much the best person he can find in Slytherin house). And this maaaaaaaaaybe convinces Draco to switch sides earlier than in canon.

As he would, Light definitely loves to use avada kedavra against evil people... Though no one really has a problem with this, because most people use that spell during a war (in fact, even our heroes in Harry Potter often don’t understand why he won’t use the killing curse). L maaaaaaaaaaybe tells Light that he thinks this is a bad thing. But it isn’t something they’re going to turn into enemies before. And L’s certainly used the spell himself in dire situations. But similarly to Death Note canon, Light thinks that all criminals should be avada kedavrad. L questions that one time, though, in asking Light, “You want them to suffer for what they’ve done, yes? So wouldn’t it be worse for them to live out their years in Azkaban? Or have their souls sucked out by the Dementors?”

But back to Light and L still being rivals... There’s one time where they’re both in the halls after curfew--probably because Light and L sometimes get roped into the Golden Trio’s adventures, or their own adventures, because they’re too smart not to be--and L leans over to Light and says, “Know that I love you,” before kissing him on the lips... He then gets on his broom, or something, and quickly flies away so he won’t get caught, but Light is and Gryffindor loses points. So the game is on.

I feel like Light and L would probably hate and dislike Dumbledore, after they realize some of the shady stuff he does. L might somewhat respect his cleverness, but ehh.

Also, Light and L are brilliant... So they never once doubt that Voldermort is back when Harry says he is. And they do, in fact, join Dumbledore’s Army and help Harry teach... Even though they probably hate the name. They also help bring it back with Neville, Luna, and Ginny, when the Golden Trio are away in year seven.

They fight in the Battle of Hogwarts, of course. And in the battle in Hogwarts at the end of book six.

L is probably the first Gryffindor to stand up to his house, like “Uhh, no. We’re not going to sacrifice Harry to Voldermort to save ourselves.” And speaking of... there’s a chance that a good portion of L’s house hates him for clearly siding with Harry over Voldermort when the war begins.

I had some ideas about Misa, but I’m sort of forgetting them now. She’s definitely a Hufflepuff... But I want to do something different with her, than most people usually do. Yes, Light is kind of annoyed by her because he thinks she thinks they’re dating or is trying to force it? (She probably does something to help him? And then Light thinks she’s insinuating he owes her. IDK?) But what if in reality, she’s ace or something and just wants a friend? And Light is just assuming the worst--and for once, being dumb--by just not talking to her? But eventually he does, and then they’re sort of cool with each other. And she then sometimes helps Light and L, because this is the happy Death Note AU (in Hogwarts), everybody.

...I feel like I had so many ideas, but now I think I’ve forgotten them all. Oops. I’ll add to this if I remember them, I guess. 

Also... there’s a good chance that Light and L figure out the Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew thing before anyone else--near instantly, when they learn about it--but I also don’t know if I want to commit to that? Because I don’t want to steal the Golden Trio’s thunder too much here? But at the same time, if I’m not going to have the Death Note characters slightly change things, what’s even the point?

Edit: The two geniuses probably do create some new spell or potion or something together. 

Edit 2: Harry and L totes bond over being orphans.

Edit 3: All the students in Hogwarts know that Light and L are gay for each other. And are constantly like, “Where’s your boyfriend at?” to their annoyance, probably because even in this universe Light and L are in denial about their feelings for each other for the longest time for some reason.

Edit 4: Light and L have the same patrous (to their annoyance. And at first, it’s not because they love each other--though maybe later it partly is--but because they’re that much alike). And it’s probably a cheetah or something.

Edit 5: Back to the whole Light and Misa thing, L actually realizes she doesn’t want to be Light’s girlfriend and is cool with her before even Light is. Since, oddly enough, it seems that Slytherin and Hufflepuff are close, and Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Later, when Light asks how he figured it out first, L sites his deductive reasoning schools and this as the reason.

Edit 6: I just thought of how this gets dark, and how Light and L maybe turn against each other... Light being tempted to create horcruxes by using the kills he makes in self-defense. L tells him not to do it: to not be like Voldermort. And Light perhaps listens to that... or doesn’t, in being so arrogant that he thinks he won’t become a dark wizard if he’s tasted immortality. On one hand, I feel like Light wouldn’t want to rip his soul apart. But if he thought it was for the greater good--so he could continue fighting crime as an auror--then he might do it...

Edit 7: Light and L do probably resent their professors some, in thinking that they’re more capable than they are.

Edit 8: Light and Hermione might actually go on one “date” together. To “The Slub Club”, because they want to make Ron and L jealous.

#long post #headcanons #my headcanons #my light and l at Hogwarts headcanons #my light and l in Harry Potter headcanons #I feel like. in another situation. Snape would have seen himself in l some and loved and respected the kid. but nah. l was out for blood #here so it didn't happen #there's also a part of light. who's totally in denial that he should be a slitherin. that hates himself for falling for a Slytherin at #first. since Slytherin house gets such a bad rep. but he quickly gets over that. and probably even admits he should have been one #when l says he clearly is one and should have accepted it so they could have happilybeen in Slytherin house together. lol #death note #lawlight #and sorry if any of these headcanons are off the wall. I'm still new to the fandom and figuring things out #Soichiro was an auror too of course #these all came into my head when I was at work one day

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (cnc), dom/sub relationship, ‘mistress’ title, pain kink, cockwarming, orgasm denial/control, use of a cockring, slapping, objectification/degradation, some angst and hurt/comfort, crying after sex, touchstarved!bucky

new parts posted on thursdays!  join the taglist here

"And you can promise complete and total discretion?” the deep and husky voice on the other end of the line repeated, low enough that it was almost a whisper.

You laughed a little. “Of course,” you answered. Most clients were serious about privacy, but this guy was next level. He must be famous, you thought to yourself, or married. Or both.

But just as much as your clients wanted to keep you separate from their personal life, you would rather they know nothing about who you are. Of course it was always a risk, since nobody could hide their face and you had to work out of your apartment, but you did what you could to keep your job just that— a job.

You told your friends you were a consultant, because people didn’t question that. Sure, it was hard to keep up the lie sometimes when you got last-minute bookings and had to cancel plans, but it was worth it for the money these men were willing to pay.

And this new guy? He was shelling out all kinds of cash, on a long set of conditions. Including an NDA. You wouldn’t have given him up either way, but if the contract made him feel better (and made him pay more) then you were happy to sign it.

“So it’s all anonymous, then? No ID, no credit card…?” he pressed.

“I mean, if cash is easier for you—”

“It is.”

You were starting to worry that this was a major red flag, as if he didn’t want to be traceable back to you at all. It was almost a dealbreaker, until you glanced down at the legal pad you’d written his offer on and remembered that you couldn’t afford to turn him down. “Then cash is fine,” you decided, making a note to yourself to have 911 already dialed when he came by in case his aversion to ID was really about a desire to get away with something.

“When can we start?”

“Um, well the soonest I can do is tomorrow at seven” you explained.

"Great, I'll be there," he answered firmly, apparently about to hand up.

“Hey, hey, slow down!” you chuckled. “Can I at least get a name?”

“I didn’t think we needed to do names.”

“We don’t… but if you’re willing, I’d like to know something to call you.”

“James,” he answered after a tense pause. “James is fine.”

“Alright, James, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Upon opening the door, you instantly noticed three things about him: he was tall, he was big, and he was sexy.

You had sort of been hoping that his appearance wouldn’t match his voice, but it did, and it was going to make this so much harder.  Maybe easier in a few ways, but overall worse.  It was important that you didn’t get too emotionally invested with your clients.

His eyes were dragging over you like he was just as taken aback.  Which was odd, because he must have seen your picture online before he called you.  

“James,” you greeted. “Glad you made it.”

You stepped aside to let him enter, guiding him to take a seat in your living room.  Before clients came by, you hid any signs of life and kept the space as neutral as possible, which was why the only furniture was the white couch he sat on, the black chair across from it, and a glass table in between.

You sat in the black chair and crossed your legs, noticing with pride the way his eyes studied your every move.

“It’s important that we have a discussion about boundaries and limits before this goes any further," you explained sternly, and he nodded slightly.  "Tell me what you do and don't want."

“Uh, well, I guess I was just looking for… somebody who can administer, um, discipline… you know, someone who sets rules and enforces them.  But could also be kind of, uh, sweet I guess, to.  Not too sweet, just… not too mean either."

You smiled a little; he sounded right up your alley.  "I can do that."

"You should know I… I have a… disability.  My left arm it's, um, it's a prosthetic."

"How would you like me to accommodate that?"

"Just don't say anything about it, please.  Treat it like a normal arm.  And, uh, if you could ignore my scars, too…" he added awkwardly.

"Of course,” you nodded, “I would never want to make you feel insecure."

"Well, I mean, I'm not against degradation," he admitted sheepishly, making you smile a little.

"Right: that's different.  Anything else you're distinctly not against?"

“I can take a lot of pain,” he explained matter-of-factly.  “However much you think I can handle, double it.  I wanna feel it.”

You could almost hear the words he wasn’t saying: I wanna feel something.

“Okay, we can do that.  You’ve probably heard of the color system," you posited.

“I haven’t.”

"Oh."  That threw you off slightly… how new was he to this scene?  “Well, it’s traditionally green, yellow, red; like a stoplight.  Red means stop.  Yellow means proceed with caution.  Green means continue.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Too simple for me, in fact.  I have my own version: ‘red’ will make me stop what I’m doing, but only ‘black’ ends the scene entirely.  And then there’s ‘blue.’  That means you want more.”

He smirked a little; a strong show of emotion compared to his stoicism so far.  “I think I’ll use that one most.”

“Just don’t be afraid to use anything else, alright?  I’d never be disappointed in you for safewording, or even just needing a break.”

He nodded.  “Can we get to it then?”

“You’re rushing as always,” you laughed.  “I’m not charging you for this part.  We have plenty of time— don’t we?”

“Yes, but—” he sighed.  “You look really… I walked in and, I guess I’m just really looking forward to this.”

You almost would’ve smiled at the compliment but you thankfully suppressed it.  “And what is it that you’re looking forward to?  What do you want me to do to you?”

His jaw tightened as he looked away from you.  “Um, there’s a lot.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Ropes.  Strongest you have.  I can buy you stronger ones if you need them, for next time…”

He’s already thinking about next time?  He’s already thinking about buying me things?

“Alright, I can do ropes: wrists and ankles?  Or more than that?”

He seemed a bit confused by that question.  “Is there anywhere else?”

“Torso,” you enumerated, “neck—” you stopped because you saw his reaction to that, and it made you smile a bit.  “Okay, so maybe the neck is something to try.  Do you like being choked?”

“I… I don’t know…” he sighed.

“Have you ever been choked before?”

“Not… sexually...”

You felt your eyebrows rise, but didn’t want to press; a story for another time, perhaps.

“We’ll have to discuss silent safewords and signals so you can tap out, but if you’d be willing to try it—”

“Yes.”

You laughed.  “Eager, are we?”

He swallowed, and you wondered if you shouldn’t have let your ‘dom voice’ slip out in that moment… but he looked so good flustered like that.  He adjusted himself slightly in his chair and you hoped he was already hard.  And with that thought in mind, you couldn’t stop yourself from teasing him further.

“Do you like being called certain things?” you asked, voice lower as you leaned forward.  “How do you feel about ‘pet’?” 

He almost kept up his poker face, but his gaze faltered at the same time he moved in his chair again.  “Um, ‘pet’ is okay.”

“Baby boy?”

“Not really my speed,” he shrugged.

You slipped out of your chair and stood up, approaching him slowly as the click of your heels echoed across the tile.  He watched you with wide eyes and quickening breaths.

“What do you like?  Tell me,” you demanded, though you kept your tone light.

“Uh,” he paused, watching your hand as it rested on his leg, “I like… I like being called a good boy.”

You grinned as you pulled your hand away, watching him tense up with disappointment.  “I can do that,” you agreed, lifting his chin with a finger until he looked at you with those beautiful, desperate eyes, “if you actually are being a good boy for me.” “I will,” he promised quickly, “I’ll be so good.”

“Mmm, I bet you will,” you purred.  “So willing to please…”

“Tell me how,” he sighed as your hand trailed from his chin down to his chest, slipping under the loose collar of his henley and rubbing his chest.  “Tell me how to please you.”

“Well, for starters, I have a name, too: Mistress.”

He sighed like the wind had been knocked out of him, but nodded.

“And if I ask you a question, I expect you to answer ‘Yes, Mistress’ or ‘No, Mistress’.  Is that clear?”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed before suddenly correcting himself, “um, yes, Mistress.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” you frowned, “but further infractions will be punished.”

“Yes, Mistress; I’m sorry, Mistress,” he moaned, melting under your touch as your hand moved down to rub his thigh through his jeans.

“Now, just for fun,” you smiled, leaning down until your lips were nearly brushing his ear, “tell me what you want.”

“Please touch me, Mistress,” he sighed.

“But I am touching you.”

“Touch my… touch my cock," he clarified, adorably embarrassed. "It’s so hard for you…”

“We’ll get to that eventually.  Let’s go to the bedroom first, okay?”

However good he looked standing in your doorway half an hour ago, it was nothing compared to how he looked naked and hard and tied to your bed.

Yes, the prosthetic and the scars that attached it to his body were hard to ignore.  He had failed to warn you that it was metal, so you couldn’t hide the slight shift of your face when it caught the light; you hoped he didn’t think it was a look of judgment or disgust, because you truly didn’t think it was anything upsetting.  Maybe the scars were a little worrying… but they didn’t seem to bother him now, at least physically.

But truly, if anything was distracting about his body, it wasn’t the arm.  It was his muscles— no wait, it had to be his cock, right?  It’s tough to call: on one hand, his entire body was toned and hardened beyond the peak of human conditioning, his thick thighs making your mouth water already, his chiseled abs almost making you jealous; but on the other hand, between those lovely thighs and curving up against those perfect abs was a cock that rivalled anything you'd ever seen before, with a blue vein running up one side and a drip of precum rolling down the other.

You finally sauntered up to the bed and ran your fingers over the taught ropes, pretending to ignore him watching you impatiently.  It was almost hotter knowing that he could pull out of the ropes if he really wanted to.  More than most, he was choosing to submit to them and to you.

“How’s this knot feel?  Too tight?” you hummed, tugging the rope just beside his wrist and watching his hand move limply with it.

“No, it’s good.”

You stepped back to the foot of the bed and stripped slowly, peeling off your black dress to reveal a matching lace set underneath.  You left your heels on as you stepped out of the dress and kicked it aside.

Turning back to face him, James looked like he was all but drooling.  You could see in his eyes how much he wished the ropes weren’t holding him back so he could run his hands all over your body.

But you could tell he craved being denied what he wanted, by the way his cock flexed of its own volition.

You let yourself smile as you crawled your way up the bed and over his body, like a panther stalking its prey, and boy did he look ready to be devoured.

"Are you scared?" you asked quietly.  He shook his head.  "Are you ready?"

He nodded.  You sat up as you straddled him, positioned just right such that no part of you was really touching him, and watched with delight as he tugged against the ropes slightly to try to get closer.

"So needy," you grinned, somewhere between praising and scolding him.  Your fingers ghosted over his chest and he shivered; he asked you to treat his prosthetic like a normal arm, so you dragged your nails down the metal and watched his eyes flutter shut.  When you pulled your hand back and left him untouched again, he whined slightly.

“Aw, poor thing,” you pouted as you examined him, desperation emanating off of him in an invisible aura.  “Your cock is all red and leaking… it must hurt, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Mistress,” he groaned.

“What if I touch it a little?” you offered.

“Please…”

You traced your fingers lightly up and down his length, tickling the skin and giving him the least pressure that you could.  He whimpered and you chuckled mockingly.  “I said I’d touch it a little, sweet boy, are you not satisfied?”

He bucked up into your touch as best he could, causing you to pull your hand away.  “Baby, please—” 

You cut him off with a slap to the face, as hard as you could muster.

“Mistress!” he corrected with a whine.  “Mistress, please… please wrap your hand around it.”

“Around what?” 

“Around… my cock.  Stroke me, please…”

“All you had to do was ask,” you grinned, finally tightening your hand around him and moving slowly up and down the shaft.  His head fell back with a soft moan, just from that.  Your teasing had certainly helped get him this worked up, but you knew it wasn't just that… he was plenty sensitive all on his own, apparently.

It made your mouth water.

"Does this feel good, James?" you asked huskily.

"S-so good," he whimpered, "please can you… stroke it a little faster, please, Mistress…"

"Hmm, not yet," you decided, feeling him tense up beneath you.  "Relax," you instructed with a free hand rubbing his thigh gently.  

You continued to teasingly stroke his length, never quite giving him the pressure or speed he needed to get closer to his release, savoring every whimper and whine and sigh from him along with the satisfying weight of his cock against your palm.

It felt like you'd never get tired of wielding so much power in your hand.

"Please," he sighed, "I need more…"

"You want me to stroke you faster?" you pressed, already knowing that wasn't what he meant.  He shook his head and you grinned, leaning in closer but letting go of his cock. 

Slowly, you let the lace covering your core rub up against his shaft, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.  "Ohhhhh," he moaned, "oh fuck, Mistress…"

You grinned and kept rocking against him, easily feeling the warmth of him through your panties— meaning he, in turn, could feel the warmth of you.  "How does it feel, baby?" 

"Good," he choked out, "really, really good… fuck, I want more, I need more, please…"

"Are you my good boy, James?" you asked in a low purr.  He nodded eagerly, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nothing.  "Do you want to be inside me?" you finally whispered against his ear, letting a finger run lazily up his spine and feeling him shiver so hard it was more like he was convulsing.

"Please, Mistress, I'll do anything…"

You didn't touch all of your clients sexually, due in part to the fact that they usually wanted a lot more pain than pleasure.  You'd only had sex with one or two of them, and it wasn't a routine thing.  Before today you never would've imagined doing this with a first-time client, but to be completely honest… he was fucking hot.  The kind of guy you'd be spreading your legs for instantly if you weren't at work and he wanted to buy you a drink or grab lunch.  And he was here, at your disposal, begging you for more.  How could you say no?  

You pulled your panties aside and gripped his cock tightly to guide it to your entrance, studying his face twisted in anticipation before sinking down and watching him gasp and sigh all at once, somehow.

It took a lot of effort to hide your own pleasure when he was stretching you out so perfectly, but you managed to suppress the desire to moan and just smile at his fucked-out expression instead.

Finally, your hips met with his and you got to sit there and enjoy the look of dawning agony as he realized you were staying completely still.

“Move, please,” he sobbed, “oh god, Mistress, please move…”

“But I thought you wanted to be inside me?  Isn’t this what you asked for?”

He whined and tried to wiggle his hips; all that got him was two hard slaps to the face.  

“No whining,” you instructed through your teeth.  “Good boys don’t whine.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered, “‘m your good boy, I promise.”

“I know you are,” you grinned, “or at least, I know you can be.  Show me how good and patient you are.”

Reaching to the side a bit without getting off of him, you pulled a vibrator from your drawer.  His eyes went a little wide when he saw it, and you laughed.

"Don't worry, this isn't for you.  It's for me," you explained as you turned it on, inserting it between your body and his to touch the toy against your clit.  He winced as you sighed contentedly.  "Fuck, it feels good.  Can you feel it on your cock?"

"A… a little…" he hissed.

"I bet it feels good for you too," you posited, "but not good enough to make you come."

After a little pause, he nodded breathlessly.

"Good," you smiled.  "I just wanna come with your cock inside me.  I wanna know how it feels to get off with my favorite toy while being full of my newest toy."

"Fuck," he groaned.

"Do you like that, pretty boy?  Do you like me using your cock, being your Mistress' dumb little fucktoy?"

"Yes," he sobbed, hips shifting ever so slightly beneath you as he sought more stimulation from your flexing walls.  Shifting the vibe to hit right on your clit, you cried out— and he did too, at the feeling of you tightening around him.

"God, you love being Mistress' dildo, don't you?"

He nodded, biting hard on his lip until you worried he'd hurt himself.  He moaned again as another jolt of pleasure forced your channel to clench on his cock.

"You're making too much noise for a fucktoy, you need to be quiet."

He opened his mouth for a second, but closed it again and nodded instead.  

"You can do it yourself right?" you pressed, seeing him nod.  "You don't need me to gag that pretty mouth?" 

He whined but shook his head, keeping his lips pressed together.

That went on for a few more moments as you teased yourself with the vibe, hoping to draw this out for the sake of his struggle.  Wanting to up the ante, you took the vibe off your clit and turned it off for a moment.  "I think this would feel better with a little lube… will you get it wet for me, James?"

You brought the toy to his lips and he eagerly wrapped them around it, sucking lightly on the silicone with those pretty lashes resting on his cheeks.

"There you go, that's a good boy," you praised, pulling the toy from his mouth, "that's my good boy…"

"Yours…" he repeated weakly, "wanna be good for you, just for you…"

This time when you turned it on and pressed it to your clit again, you instantly gasped and felt your walls bare down on him; turning up the vibration, you actually moaned aloud and saw him wince.  "Oh, can you feel it now?" you asked tauntingly.  He bit his lip and nodded.

It really wasn't even intentional but you felt your hips start to rock, making him gasp as his eyes shot open.  For a guy who had been begging you to move not too long ago, he looked pretty overwhelmed by it now.

"Fuck, I'm gonna make myself come on your cock… do you wanna feel me come, baby?"

He seemed conflicted, which was exactly what you were going for.  You wanted him to struggle, just enough, between his need to satisfy himself and his desire to please you.  "I… I want to make you come, Mistress," he finally choked out, notably answering a slightly different question than the one you'd asked.  

You smiled and leaned in to whisper in his ear: "Are you afraid that if you feel me come around you, you won't be able to hold back?  That you might accidentally come inside me?"

He made a needy little groan and nodded.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm gonna help you," you promised sweetly, but of course as soon as he saw you grab a cockring from your drawer he changed his tune.

"N-no, Mistress, please," he begged with wide eyes, "I'll be good, just not that— don't put that on me."

You smirked and sat up, pulling off of him and slowly slipping the ring on his throbbing length as he quietly pleaded for mercy.  He winced when you pushed it down to the base of him, his cheeks burning hot red now.

"Is it a little too tight, baby?" you cooed, grinning when he nodded.  "Good."

You sank back down into him and let your hips grind on his, working your clit with the vibe and even kicking it up to the next highest setting.  He jolted beneath you, clearly feeling the vibrations strongly now, and you let the view of his beautifully broken facial expression egg on your own climax.

"Mm, I'm close, baby," you whispered, "just stay still and let Mistress use you like a good little boy."

He made a small noise through his teeth but seemed to manage okay, even when your walls began to pulse rhythmically around him and your head fell back, your free hand palming at your breast through the lace bra just to add that last little edge of sensation.

"Oh fuck, fuck," you moaned, "that's my good boy…"

You shakily pulled the vibe away and turned it off, still a little numb on your clit but feeling your channel still rippling slightly with aftershocks; he seemed to feel them in spite of their subtlety, if the panting breaths that filled his muscular chest rapidly were any indication.

As slow as you could manage, you pulled your body off of him and sat back on his legs to stare at his cock.  The remnants of your orgasm left plenty of lubrication to stroke it, focusing on the head which had turned almost purple now.

"M-Mistress," he groaned, writhing under your touch.

Amazingly, his cock was already flexing in your hand, and a growl of pride and hunger echoed in your chest.

“Oh fuck, can you come for me, James?” you moaned, pumping him so fast your hand was a blur.  “Can you be my good boy and come right through the cockring?”

“Yes,” he sobbed, “gonna come, Mistress, please—”

“Come right now,” you demanded, watching his face instantly fall slack as he spurted out onto his own chest and stomach, cock flexing and pulsing in your hands as his legs quivered and his hips thrusted wildly.

And the tears were flowing soon after.  You weren’t sure if it was sub drop or just the power of his release, but between weak sobs he whispered broken apologies.

“You did so good,” you cooed as you slipped off the ring and wrapped your arms around him, subtly trying to reach over to untie the ropes.  But you didn’t need to; he flexed his arms and the restraints popped like floss.  He embraced you in return as you let his head fall onto your chest.  “You’re so good, it’s okay,” you continued, stroking his hair.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated again, breathing quickly and wetting you with his tears.

This, you realized, is what he had made you sign the contract to protect.  It wasn’t that he was excessively embarrassed about his sexual proclivities, but that this was his space to be soft, and weak, and broken.  Apparently he wasn’t ready for anyone else to know that he wasn’t steel all the way down.

“Shh, it’s okay… you’re okay…” you breathed, indulging him in this moment even though it was more intimate than you preferred to get with customers.  Aftercare was an important part of your job, certainly, but so was enforcing boundaries.

He began to soothe as you kissed his forehead gently, whispering well-deserved affirmations and praise.  As his breathing slowed and moved back to normal, he pulled back and looked up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated one more time, but not as wavering as before, “I didn’t think I would… that was unexpected.”

“No, it’s somewhat normal,” you exaggerated slightly, “this kind of thing… it’s taxing, I pushed you to your limits.  You were really tough, and it’s all very vulnerable.”

“Thanks,” he sighed, sniffling and wiping his eyes.  “And sorry about your ropes,” he smiled as he noticed the frayed ends coming off of where his wrists were still tied.

“Let me help you get those off,” you smiled, loosening the knots and sliding the binds off of him, quickly massaging the places that the rope had constricted.  “Blood flow’s okay?”

“Yep,” he nodded.

“You numb anywhere?” you pressed.

“Uh, just my dick.  And my brain is all fuzzy…” 

You smiled.  “Can’t help the first one.  Let me get you some water for the second.”

“No!” he yelped suddenly.  “Um, don’t go yet, please…”

“Of course,” you smiled.  “I’ll untie your ankles, then.”

He still seemed disappointed, as if he expected you to hug him for hours and never move.  He let you go this time, though, and loosened his grip so you could slide down to the foot of the bed.  

"Was that sort of what you were hoping for when you called me?" you asked as you untied the ropes slowly and took a moment to massage the skin underneath, hoping to restore any lost blood flow.

"So much better than what I was hoping for," he admitted with a breathless chuckle.  "You're… really good."

"Well, thank you," you shrugged, "it comes with practice and experience.  You held your own, too."

"I wish I could say that was from practice and experience.  I didn't want to say anything before but I've, uh, never actually… been to a domme before."

You smiled slightly, coming back up and being pulled into another embrace.  "Um, I'll admit I can kind of tell…" you mumbled.

"I'm not supposed to touch you like this," he realized quietly, relaxing his grip on you and pulling back.  "I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright, just don't get too comfortable because we only have—" you glanced at the clock— "eight more minutes until you need to leave."

"I'll get up and get dressed soon," he offered with a sigh as you got up and quickly slipped on a robe, grabbing him a damp washcloth for the drying come on his torso.

You tilted your head as you watched him clean up, and you wanted to offer some touch that was a bit less intimate than a hug, so you found yourself blurting out: "do you like having your hair played with?"

"Um, I don't… I don't know," he admitted as he reached up to card his fingers through the hair in question.  "No one else has ever really touched my hair before."

"Really?" you laughed, getting back on the bed to sit beside him.  "It looks pretty luscious.  I figured any girlfriend of yours would want to get her hands on it."

"Oh, well, the last time I had a girlfriend… it wasn't long then," he explained, and you kept on your best poker face.  His hair looked like he'd been growing it out for at least two years, unless it grew crazy fast or something.  How long had he been single?  With a body like that you could barely believe that he was single now.

"Do you mind if I touch it?" you offered quietly, and once he gave you a nod you reached forward and combed your fingers through it, reaching deeper to scratch at his scalp, occasionally pulling the strands lightly into loose braid-like patterns that fell away almost immediately afterwards.  He sank into your touch until you found yourself supporting his head against your chest, mindlessly playing with his hair until you noticed his eyes were shut, his breathing was slowed, and his body was limp on top of yours.

He fell asleep.

You laughed silently to yourself, realizing that you couldn't get him off of you without his cooperation since he was so heavy and you had no shot at lifting him.  And, of course, his cooperation required his consciousness… which required waking him up.

And, for some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to do it.  He just looked too peaceful, for a guy who had never seemed truly relaxed around you.

Was there any other way he could relax?  Cause it kinda seemed like he really, really needed this.  And you were in the business of meeting needs, to say the least.

So, with an apologetic text to your last client of the night that you needed to reschedule, you let James sleep on you as you closed your eyes and drifted off as well.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #sub!bucky barnes x domme!reader

[thebadchoicemachine]

“Vines” aka Human Cries: an intergalactic guide.

@thecatchat @wilboo-soot 

If you’ve ever worked with or fought or interacted with a human there is a high likelihood you’ve witnessed one of their many cries. Whether another human called, they answered a phrase from a machine or report, they called to themselves, or you unknowingly instigated one of them, you were probably confused as all space. 

You see, humans are very social creatures. One of their ways of socializing is by instigating these calls. One might cry out and all- no matter what side they are on or what they are dong- will answer. Most everyone agrees, it’s unnerving. BUT, there is no need to fear! It is simply a cultural habit. In this paper, I will outline some phrases to avoid/recognize and what they mean. 

[list under the cut]

----

1. DON'T FUCK WITH ME (US)

2. I'VE (WE'VE) GOT THE POWER OF GOD AND ANIME ON MY (OUR) SIDE

A war cry. A scream of defiance and strength. It's not quite certain what an anime is yet but those who attempt to study humans, along with humans themselves, assure us it is something to fear.

----

1. [Road] Work head?

2. Uh, yeah I sure hope is does

A prayer for protection. A reminder of skepticism and diligence even when safety appears obvious.  

---

1. [Rebecca] It's not what it looks like!

2. I won't hesitate, bitch.

A more blatant exclamation. Said to convey ruthlessness in the face of perceived betrayal. Often, the beginning is merely implied as only the answering call is said. Unlike other cries, this is not one that necessitates an answer.

---

1. This bitch empty!

2. YEET

A cry of power and physical prowess. Used often with their biological ability to throw with their bare arms. Another where the full mantra is not said and they simply recite the final part. It is used so often it has become a staple of their language, describing something being moved with great force. 

---

1. And they were roommates!

2. Oh my god, they were roommates.

An implication of romance. Something of a fascination to historians. It is believed its origins have no clear implication of such yet its meaning is entirely accepted. 

---

Look at all those [chickens.]

Misidentifying something with juvenile glee or confidence. A single phrase, no completion required. 

---

1. When will you learn? When will you learn

2. THAT YOUR ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES? 

Another more blatant example. An insult, a harsh apathy towards your failings, disapproval, embodiment of karma, and a shrill reminder of reason. Notably, the scorn is without smugness and rather contains distress. It is often quoted when they are just as displeased with the consequences as you.

---

1. Two guys chillin' in a hot tub 

2. Five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay.

An implication of romance in dissidence. Often alluded to with forbidden, stigmatized, or in-denial/”blind” lovers. 

---

[T-T-T-T-T-TARGET]

This one is difficult to explain with text as most of its influence comes from the tone of voice used. The word itself varies wildly (”target” is the original). Essentially, if some form of script display is malfunctioning they will enounce it accordingly.  

---

Freshavacado

A similar cry to the last example, but instead of malfunctioning it is employed when something is messily/unclearly written. Generally, they will sound out the jumbled letters three times. First stumbling through the made up pronunciation, next complete in a humorous tone, and finally they will yell it, probably laughing. 

(A reminder, laughter is not a threat. It is a natural sound they emit when humored. Although, human humor can come from many strange, basically any, things.)

---

Back at it again at Krispy Kreme

Another single phrase used to insight reckless, destructive, and joyous, but ultimately not intended to be damaging, performance.  

---

1. [Chris], is that a weed? 

2. No, this is a [crayon]. 

3. I’m calling the police!

A mockery of pointless and contrived justice. 

---

[Mary], is that a police? I’m calling the weed!

A subversion of the previous call, normalization/empowering of a rebellion or outlaw. 

---

[What up?] My name is Jared, I’m 19, and I never fucking learned how to read.

Self deprecation in light. A humored approach of self criticism, lovingly and drastically hyperbolating their failures. Sometimes used as a refusal to do paperwork. 

---

1. Why the fuck you lying? Why you always lying?

2. Mmmm, oh my god, stop fucking lying!

A cheerful but spiteful insult. A brag, an accusation, a bold and brazen declaration of disbelief. In human language they have a word that captures its meaning quite simply. A “Call out.” 

(Note: While in their nature to complete and begin these calls, please remember that it is informal even in their culture and not appropriate for political meetings. Even in, as I’m sure many humans will claim, it is “totally called for.”) 

---

1. What do you have?

2. A [KNIFE!]

3. NO!

Authoritative denial of power or the wielding danger. This is one of the few often used with non-humans due to it’s simplistic question-answer structure, aided by the human acceptance of silence as an answer.

Don’t worry about it starting any serious conflict though! This is used mainly for beings it is accepted to be controlling over such as children, “pets,” and (for some reason) cleaning droids. Even when the human is often the one who bestowed the dangerous item to the droid in the first place... and it never answers... because it is a vacuum with wheels... 

++++++

This ends the summary of what you’ll be most likely to encounter. There are hundreds more, of course, but they’re generally self-contained or obscure and not so far reaching across humanity. That being said, there are other things you should be aware of. 

While the ones listed are all generally harmless, there are curses among humanity that are incredibly offensive. If there are any humans reading this I suggest you stop now for your own safety. 

++++++

It is best to avoid: 

Referring to losing an unnamed game. 

- While you probably are not discussing the specific Game it may inadvertently allude to it and seriously upset nearby humans. 

- They have spent centuries attempting to wipe It from their collective consciousness, It is best left unspoken and unthought of. 

Using a set of symbols resembling lines split in quadrants. 

- Especially in the order of one tall line, a tall line and a short line, two tall lines, and a tall line with a horizontal line.  

- It is a curse. A foreboding message of pain and misfortune, so much so they simply refer to it as “Loss.”

BE CAUTIOUS of the Rolling Tricktster  

- He is an ancient human deity of deceit and guile. His song perpetuates the galaxy, he is used as an insult, a game, a lie. 

- Those who use his image practice the art of luring and betrayal. They are sirens of misinformation and false promises. 

- Your human companions may be one of them but this does not grant them immunity. You also will not be safe, be alert and be cautious, lest you fall the the old god Astley as well. 

#humans are space oddities #humans are strange #humans are space orcs #humans are wierd #woah those are words I wrote

[cocobeanncteez]

ATEEZ Hongjoong: Tame (Part 3)

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, mafia au.

Pairing: Mafia!Hongjoong x OC (written in 2nd person)

Word Count: 17k in total, 5k in this part. (Part 1, Part 2, Final Part)

Warnings for all parts combined: Mafia themes such as torture, abuse, violence, human auctions, murder, drugs, guns. Mentions of rape, human trafficking, sex slavery, organ trafficking, unprotected sex, pulling out, facesitting.

Three weeks later, you could pretty much call yourself a member of a mafia gang. Well, that's what you were now even if you were in slight denial.

You spent a lot of time with Ateez. Hongjoong taught you how to shoot like a pro, Jongho taught you how to defend yourself if you don't have a weapon, and Yeosang and Seonghwa taught you medical related stuff such as removing a bullet from a body and treating a gunshot wound. Yeosang also taught you the basics of hacking, but you sucked at it. San, Wooyoung, and Aeji taught you how to seduce a target, and you nearly died of embarrassment when you had to practice with Wooyoung as the target. Jiwoo pretty much gave you some of her bubbliness while she and Yeoreum taught you a bit about illegal international business deals. The three girls also told you a hell lot about their sex lives when you all had a girls' night a few days ago. On the other hand, Yunho and Mingi were just playing 'tossing Kiah' (as they call it), which was literally just them throwing and catching you like as if you were a ball. The giants found it extremely fascinating that you were an entire foot shorter than them. Sometimes, they would use the top of your head as an armrest.

Hongjoong bought you a phone, but unfortunately, you couldn't log into any of your social media accounts, or even your email as your cousin and uncle were searching for you and the culprits who made your cousin unconscious the night he was going to sell you.

"Kiah, do want some orange juice?" Mingi asked you from the kitchen while he poured himself a glass. You nod your head and he poured some for you too. Yeosang was there as well, busy eating fried chicken.

"Hey, Kiah?" Mingi called out, making you look up at him. "You never really told us about your parents." He handed you your juice.

"My mother died when I was a newborn," you replied, sipping on your juice. "My father... well, I rarely saw him after he made me live with my uncle. Now no one has seen him in months." Both the boys noticed how sad you were when you spoke about your father. You really wanted to see him; you didn't even know whether he was dead or alive.

"What's your father's name and age?" Yeosang questioned. "I could track him or at least find out if he's all right."

"Moon Dongwoo and he's 49 years old," you answered with a small smile. "Thank you, Yeosang." 

~

After about three hours, Yeosang approached you while you were talking to Aeji and some of the boys. He sat on the couch adjacent to you after briefly greeting everyone.

"So I tried to track your father, Kiah," Yeosang stated nonchalantly. "And I found absolutely nothing."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"There are zero records of him," Yeosang explained, "Like no bank or property details… To put it in simple words, it's like as if he doesn't exist."

You frowned. "So he's… d-dead?"

"Don't know," Yeosang shrugged. "There are no death records either. There were a couple of men with the same name as him, but no one was 49 years old."

You pondered about it for a while. Why would your dad erase all traces of his existence? Even if he didn't, someone else did. But why?

"Wait," you blurted out. "Did you check with the police station? My dad is a cop."

San, who was listening to the conversation, nearly chokes on the sprite that he was drinking. "Your dad is a cop and you're here, living in a mafia gang's house?!"

"I know right?!" Yunho said from beside him and you only shrug in response.

"I checked the police station as well," Yeosang remarked. "Still no records."

Your eyebrows furrowed. "That's just strange. He's a cop, there has to be at least something about him at the police station."

"Hey, don't worry about it, Kiah," Yeosang said in a soft tone, giving you a reassuring smile. "We'll find him."

-

The next day after you woke up, you found everyone seated in the living room, lost in deep thought. You quietly sat beside Jiwoo, wondering whether you should ask why everyone is so quiet.

"That's not a bad idea, actually," Wooyoung said after glancing at you while you stared at him in confusion. What idea was he talking about?

"Yeah, it's a terrible idea," Hongjoong retorted, glancing at you as well.

"Kiah," Mingi starts, grabbing your attention. "What do you think about attending a masquerade party?"

"You mean a mafia masquerade party?" you emphasized.  

"Of course," he replied.

"Ah, it's cool, I guess?" you said nonchalantly; you were getting used to the mafia life, and you'd be lying if you said that you didn't like it.

"It's settled then," San stated, getting up from the couch and stretching his arms. "Kiah is Hongjoong's date for the party."

"Knew it," Jongho murmured.

"No," Hongjoong protested. "A lot of people saw her face at the auction. It's a terrible idea."

"Well, it's a masquerade party hosted by our ally," Seonghwa remarked. "No one will try shit even if they recognize her."

"Plus, we're all going to be there. We can't leave Kiah alone here," Yeoreum added and Jiwoo nodded her head in agreement.

Hongjoong sighed. "Fine."

~

"You look gorgeous, Kiah!" Aeji squealed after doing your makeup. Yeoreum just finished doing Jiwoo's hair and started doing your hair.

"Hongjoong won't be able to keep his hands to himself," Yeoreum remarked with a smirk, making you blush.

"I'm surprised he hasn't made a move yet," Aeji said.

"We all know he wants to," Jiwoo mumbled while taking a mirror selfie.

You chuckled. "Nothing has happened yet."

"Yet?" Yeoreum teased you, curling a strand of your hair with the curling iron. "So you want something to happen, huh?"

“I—”

"You obviously do."

You playfully rolled your eyes at her. "Don't accidentally burn my hair, Yeoreum!" The girls laughed at the sight of you getting flustered 

"Kiah, what are you planning on wearing?" Aeji asked.

"The black cocktail dress."

"No, you're not wearing that," she protests. "Wear the red dress Jiwoo got you last week."

You raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"You'll see," she smirked.

~

After all of you got ready and slipped into your respective outfits, you went downstairs where the boys were waiting.

As soon as Hongjoong saw you, his lips parted slightly as he scanned you from head to toe. You were wearing a short, strapless red dress that fit your body perfectly, hugging your curves and exposing your highlighted collarbones. You wore silver wedges that matched the silver necklace around your neck. Your long hair was curled and your makeup was simple yet elegant.

"Hongjoong's favorite color is red, by the way. Thank me later," Aeji whispered to you, giving you a wink before she ran into Seonghwa's arms. So that's why she forced you to wear a red dress. You snorted at Aeji's words before your eyes landed on Hongjoong. He looked absolutely ethereal in his black ripped jeans and white t-shirt underneath the leather jacket he was wearing. You expected to see the guys in suits, considering it was a masquerade event, but it looked like you all were going to a club instead. Oh well, maybe this is how the mafia rolls.

You heard someone clear their throat. "Um, if you're both done eye-fucking each other, can we leave? We're getting late," San commented and Jiwoo laughed loudly at her boyfriend's words. The other eight already left and you wondered how you didn't even notice.

Hongjoong doesn't utter a word; he only approaches you and takes your hand in his, leading you to the garage. You, Hongjoong, Jiwoo, and San were riding in the same car.

San begun driving and the car was filled with Jiwoo gushing about how she loved going for Stray Kids' parties. San told you about how Wooyoung introduced Ateez to his friend, Changbin, and that's how Ateez met the rest of Stray Kids.

After a while, you reached Stray Kids' mansion. The exterior was lit up with blue and yellow lights.

Jiwoo handed you a pretty silver eye-mask and you put it on; Hongjoong wore a red mask, Jiwoo wore black, and San wore gold.

"Alright, let's party!" Jiwoo squealed, pulling San along with her, practically running inside.

Hongjoong wrapped an arm around your waist as he led you inside Stray Kids' mansion, scanning the crowd to see if he could find any of his allies.

"Ah, Hongjoong!" you heard someone say, catching your attention. Hongjoong's arm leaves your waist to hug that person.

"Chan! It's been so long, yeah?"

"Very," he agreed before glancing at you. "I see you've got yourself a girl."

Hongjoong chuckled. "This is Moon Kiah. Kiah, this is Bang Chan, the leader of Stray Kids." Chan stretched his hand out and you shake it.

While Hongjoong spoke to Chan, Jiwoo dragged you away to get a drink. You wondered how hyper she would be when drunk, considering the fact that she was already pretty hyper when sober.

Jiwoo got a couple of tequila shots and you only downed three.  "Only three?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," you answered with a small giggle. "I have very bad alcohol tolerance."

Jiwoo took her own shots before Wooyoung dragged the two of you to introduce you to the other members of Stray Kids. You were seriously shocked by how young and polite these men were, despite being in the mafia.

"So whose girl is she gonna be now?" Changbin asked.  

"She's Hongjoong's girl," Wooyoung answered, and you giggle at that, already a little drunk.

"Mhmm, yeah, I'm Hongjoong's girl, hi!" you squealed before realizing that Jiwoo suddenly wasn't there anymore. "Where's Jiwoo?" you pouted  

"Probably would've found someone to talk to or she's in some room with San," Wooyoung replied. "Anyway, let's get you to Hongjoong, little one."

"I'm here," you heard a familiar voice say behind you, making you jump a little before you turned around. "Kim Hongjoong, you…” you trailed off, admiring his face even though half of it was covered with the mask. "You're so fucking hot, like what the actual fuck?!"  Wooyoung and Changbin laughed loudly before they walked away, leaving you alone with a slightly stunned Hongjoong.

"How much did you drink, hmm?" Hongjoong asked, looking down at you with soft eyes. You gave him a loving smile while your arms moved to wrap around his neck.

"Three tequila," you mumbled before you suddenly squealed. The DJ started playing one of your favorite songs. "Dance with me," you whispered in Hongjoong's ear, pulling his body closer to yours.

Hongjoong danced with you for a little while, holding you close to his body so that you wouldn't trip and fall in your 5-inch heels. After the song ended, he pulled you to a less crowded area to sit on the sofas. Your heartbeat sped up when Hongjoong made you sit on his lap instead of the free space beside him. You wrapped an arm around his neck while your other hand ran through his soft hair.

"What's wrong with that guy?" you whispered in Hongjoong's ear, glancing at a green-masked guy who was sitting near you, all alone on the floor, staring at the ceiling with a huge smile.

"Probably took LSD," Hongjoong remarked after taking a quick glance at the man.

"Oh," you murmured. "He's a really bad boy. You shouldn't take drugs. Okay, pretty boy?" Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, amused by the tipsy side of you. He chuckled prettily in your ear, pulling you even closer to him.

"I don't do drugs, love." He places his cold hand on the skin right above your knee. "I'm a good boy," he whispered in a low tone. Hongjoong could clearly see how much he affected you.

"Liar," you whispered in his ear. You place a kiss right below his ear before trailing kisses along his jawline. You stopped at his chin and pulled away. When his eyes met yours, you leaned in, finally pressing your lips against his. He responded immediately, kissing you back like as if there was no tomorrow. You've never been kissed with such intensity before.  Hongjoong's hand that was just above your knee, began to move upwards. You weren't drunk, just tipsy, so you knew what was happening; you were starting to feel really excited as his hand went higher and higher.

You heard someone clear their throat. "Kim Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong halted his actions and pulled away from you to look up at the woman who interrupted him. She had orange colored hair and was wearing a dark blue eye mask.

"Oh? Royeon?" he got up from his seat, making you stand up along with him. He sounded a little excited, and that made you feel a little jealous. Who was she?

Royeon smirked. "New girl, huh?"

Hongjoong ignored her comment. "Kiah, this is my friend, Royeon."

She snorted. "Friend? I'm quite offended by that title, Joongie." she pouts a little before turning to you. "I'm his first love."

You kept a pokerface on. "That's nice. It’s a pleasure to meet you," you said nonchalantly, trying not to sound bothered about the fact that Hongjoong's first love was standing right in front of your face. She was giving you a bad vibe and you absolutely hated how she was undressing Hongjoong with her eyes. You couldn't deny that you had strong feelings for Kim Hongjoong and you were planning on telling him pretty soon.

You turned to Hongjoong with a small smile on your face. "I'm gonna go get a drink," you said, purposely giving him a kiss that lasted a little longer than it should before you left him alone with his previous lover.

You didn't get a drink. Instead, you went outside, exploring the lit up garden in Stray Kids' mansion. The mansion was a little smaller than Ateez's mansion, but was extremely beautiful nonetheless.

You walked to one of the trees that was lit up with blue lights, taking out your phone to take a few pictures of yourself.

"So Yang Daeyoung hasn't been spotted anywhere?" you heard someone say.

"No," another person replied. "He probably escaped to another country or died.”

"What about his child?" the first person asked.

"No one knows what he or she looks like. Anyway, we have to find Yang Daeyoung and his child before another gang does. I heard many gangs are still searching for him… especially Ateez and CIX. We need to get all that information before them."

You were suddenly really interested in whatever the two people were talking about. You mentally reminded yourself to ask one of the Ateez members about this Yang Daeyoung guy later.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone here?" you heard someone say behind you, words slurred.

You turned to face the man who was in a green eye-mask. "Taking pictures as you can clearly see," you answered the clearly drunk man.

He smirked. "I'm Jinseop," he introduced. "And your attitude is really fucking turning me on, babygirl."

"I didn't ask," you stated, rolling your eyes.

He took a step towards you and you didn't move an inch. "You know," he starts, placing a hand on your shoulder while he towered over you. "I heard Stray Kids have a few spare rooms here. How about we go upstairs and—"

"Get your fucking hands off her."

Jinseop rolled his eyes, not even glancing at the person.

"Now," the person growled. He froze when he finally realized who was talking to him.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry," he apologized and quickly walked away, leaving you quite stunned.

"Wow, Kim Hongjoong," you remark in amusement after a few seconds. "You scared someone."

Hongjoong doesn't say anything. He only walked towards you, and you involuntarily took a step back, making your back press against the cold surface of a wall. Hongjoong towered over your short height and you could tell he loved how small you looked next to him.

He cupped your cheek with one hand and places his lips against yours, gently kissing you before trailing kisses down to your neck. Your hands immediately went up to grab his hair while he started to suck and kiss the skin of your neck, making you moan softly. He smirked against your skin, absolutely loving how he was the one who was making you feel good. He brought his lips back to yours, kissing you a little harder than before while his hands moved down to your ass, grabbing it through the fabric of your dress. You gasped at his actions and he takes that opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. He pulled away after a few seconds.

"You're all mine, Moon Kiah."

-

Hongjoong led you back inside and you immediately spot his ex-girlfriend who was trying to hit on an unbothered Yunho.

"Yunho," Hongjoong called out and the man looked at him. Royeon's attention was also now on the two of you. "Where are the rest? We have to leave soon."

"I have no clue," Yunho answered.  "Yeoreum just took Mingi to the bathroom. The man drank way too much."

You noticed Royeon glaring at you, her eyes flickering between your neck and Hongjoong's messed up hair; you realized that he probably left a nice mark on your neck. You smirked, loving her annoyed reaction. You wrapped your arms around Hongjoong's waist and he smiled at you, draping an arm around your shoulders. Yunho controlled the urge to laugh once he realized what you just did.

Royeon cleared her throat. "So Hongjoong, did you get any news on Yang Daeyoung?" You felt Hongjoong stiffen a little.

"No," Hongjoong simply replied.

She chuckled. "Oh well. That must really suck for you since all... that happened, huh?" You could tell Hongjoong was going to lose his temper. You were extremely curious about this person, considering the fact that you've heard about him twice in less than an hour. "I bet you're dying to capture him. You would've planned so much to—"

"That's none of your business, Royeon," Yunho stated in a cold tone, cutting her off.

She raised her hands up defensively. "What I'm trying to say is I'd like to help."

"We don't need your help," Hongjoong spat through gritted teeth and Royeon was taken aback. You wondered why she looked shocked; was Hongjoong a complete sweetheart to her or something when they were together?

She cleared her throat, clearly offended. "Alright… come over to my place whenever you want me, Hongjoong," she said with a smirk before she walked away. You scoffed at her words and tightened your hold around Hongjoong who was quite amused by your reaction.

He put a finger under your chin to make you look up at him. "Maybe I should take up her offer, hmm?"

You scowled. "Don't even think about it, Kim Hongjoong. You're mine."

"Say that again, baby."

"You're mine."

Hongjoong crashed his lips onto yours and you kiss him back immediately, loving the feeling of his soft lips moving with yours.

"Oh, they're finally doing something," you heard Jongho say.

"Yeah, I was so tired of hearing Hongjoong whine everyday about how badly he wanted to kiss her," Seonghwa remarked, and you smile against Hongjoong's lips. You pulled away from the kiss, smiling widely at a blushing Hongjoong.

You turned your head to look at Seonghwa. "He was whining about that?" you asked in amusement.

"Oh, yeah, all the time," he answered with a chuckle.

A drunk Wooyoung laughed loudly. "That's not all! Hyung was also complaining about how Hongjoong junior was aching for—" Hongjoong smacked his palm over Wooyoung's mouth, stopping him from exposing him.

"Hey, let him complete," you stated, amused by the whole situation. Hongjoong shook his head in disagreement.

"We have to leave," Hongjoong changed the topic. "Yunho, go get Mingi and Yeoreum. Seonghwa, call San and Yeosang."

"Yeosang's getting some upstairs after so long," Yunho revealed. "He'll be shit pissed if you guys interrupt him."

Wooyoung chuckled. "After so long? He got pussy last week! And he's with the same blonde chick upstairs."

"No wonder he was the most excited to come here," Jongho mumbled.

Hongjoong rolled his eyes. "Well, I want to leave now. Anyone else wants to come?"

"Hyung, you and Aeji can go," Yunho said to Seonghwa. "Aeji's really tired. I'll come with the rest."

Seonghwa nodded and the four of you leave first, walking to one of three cars. Seonghwa had to drive after losing a game of rock-paper-scissors to Hongjoong.

After he began driving, you wanted to ask who this Yang Daeyoung guy was, but you thought now didn't seem like an appropriate time; you didn't want to interrupt the peaceful silence in the car.

You were feeling quite drained out, so you rested your head on Hongjoong's shoulder, trying your best to not fall asleep.

“Sleep, Kiah,” he mumbled, bringing your body closer to his. “I’ll wake you up when we reach,” he said, although he had no plans of doing that.

“Okay…” you closed your eyes, sleep taking over your body within a few minutes.

Hongjoong placed a soft kiss on your head. “I love you…”

5 months later.

As soon as Hongjoong came back home from his mission and stepped into your bedroom, you ran into his arms. “I missed you so much!” you mumbled against your boyfriend’s chest while he embraced you.

You started dating Hongjoong around three months ago when he finally got the courage to confess that he fell in love with you. To his relief, you were just as head over heels in love with him. The boys sometimes refer to you as ‘the one who tamed his temper’ as Hongjoong didn’t get annoyed very often anymore. You had also grown used to the mafia life, and you often found yourself enjoying it more than you should. You knew almost everything about the boys and the world you were now a part of. They even let you go on missions, sometimes letting you go solo. Hongjoong was always a little hesitant as he was scared something would happen to you, but he was getting used to it.

“I was only gone for a week, love,” Hongjoong chuckled and you sighed.

“It felt like years.” You pulled away from his chest to look at him. You pecked his lips before moving to sit on your bed, your boyfriend mirroring your actions.

“I got you a lot of chocolates,” he said, reaching out to grab your hand, intertwining it with his own. “I’ve kept them in the fridge.”

You smiled, lying down while you played with Hongjoong’s hand. “It’ll get over in two days,” you stated, knowing the boys would finish it before you could even grab a piece.

“Then I’ll go back and get you more.”

“I’d rather you stay here with me,” you mumbled, arms reaching out to hug your boyfriend. Hongjoong settled in your embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Your hand moved to his hair, playing with his strands. Hongjoong couldn’t help but place a kiss on your sensitive neck, causing a chill to run down your spine. He began placing more kisses on your neck, smirking when he felt you grab a fistful of his hair. He trailed kisses from your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips.

“I love you,” he murmured, moving to hover above you. Cupping your cheek, Hongjoong gazed at you with nothing but love and adoration, making your heart race.

You grinned at his words, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you too.” You pulled him into a kiss which he eagerly responded to. Lips moving with yours, Hongjoong took your bottom lip between his teeth, gently sucking on it before licking your lip as a way of asking for permission. You parted your lips wider, letting him slide his tongue inside your mouth. Your tongues danced in a slow rhythm while Hongjoong rolled his hips against yours, making you moan. You gently pushed him away, making him look at you with a worried gaze, thinking he went too far. But you pushed him further, making him lie down on his back before you straddled his hips. Your hands pulled your t-shirt over your head, tossing it onto the floor. Hongjoong’s eyes moved to your bra clad chest. You reached behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall from your chest.

“Can I touch you?” he asked. You took his hands, placing them on your chest in response. Hongjoong gently squeezed your boobs, thumbs running over your hardened nipples. He sat up a little so that his face could reach your chest. He placed kisses on your sternum before taking one of your nipples in his mouth, gently sucking on it, licking the small bud. He mirrored his actions for your other nipple, and your back arched in pleasure. When he pulled away, you immediately crashed your lips onto his in a hungry kiss. You involuntarily grinded down on his hard-on, a groan leaving his throat. Hongjoong’s hands moved to your hips, helping you move faster on his bulge.

“I want you, Joong,” you moaned out, making him get harder.

“Are you sure, baby?” he asked.

“Yeah. I want you to fuck me. Please,” you begged. You weren’t a virgin, but this was going to be your first time with Hongjoong.

He only smiled, halting your movements on his bulge. “Let me prep you, baby. Sit on my face.” You got off his lap to take your jeans off along with your panties. Hongjoong also stripped out his clothes, leaving himself bare in front of you for the first time. You involuntarily bit your lip, taking in the sight of his thick, hard cock. He looked absolutely irresistible.

Hongjoong climbed back onto the bed, lying down while he waited for you to straddle his face.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, a little hesitant to put your weight on his face.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he chuckled. “Sit comfortably.”

You lowered yourself onto his face, making sure you didn’t put all of your weight on him. Hongjoong's hands gripped your ass, pulling you closer to his mouth. He wasted no time in lapping at your slit, collecting your wetness on his tongue. He moaned at your sweet taste, tongue dipping into your hole, his nose pressing onto your clit. He moved his mouth to latch onto your clit, giving your nub a few sucks before moving back to your hole. “Fuck!” you moaned, hands reaching down to grasp his hair while he fucked you with his tongue. You felt the familiar knot forming and you warned Hongjoong that you were close. He licked up and down your slit, lapping at your clit, pushing you to your high. You moaned out his name while you came on his face and he wasted no time in licking up your juices, a drop rolling down from his lips. When you moved your pussy away from his face, you got wetter at the sight of his lips glistening with your juices.

You moved down his body to return the favor, but he stopped you. “I’ll let you do that another time, babe. But now I really need to be inside of you.” Hongjoong sat up, piling pillows behind him before leaning back on it. “Are you on the pill?” he asked while pumping his cock.

“No…”

He groaned. “I don’t have condoms on me right now. They’re in my room.”

“It’s okay, you can just pull out,” you stated.  

“Are you sure, my love?”

“Mhmm.” You moved to straddle his lap, aligning his cock with your entrance. You sank down on his length, the stretch making you whimper. Once Hongjoong was fully inside of you, you placed your hands on his abs, slowly moving yourself up and down on his cock, coating it with your arousal. Hongjoong bucked his hips up to meet yours half-way. You leaned down to kiss him while you rolled your hips against his. You pulled away and smiled at him before you increased the pace. Your hands reached back to grab his thighs while you rode him. Hongjoong watched your boobs bounce along with you, the sight making him groan. When Hongjoong felt himself getting close, he switched positions, slipping out of you, making you whine. He only giggled, leaning down to peck your lips before he gripped your waist. Without any warning, he slammed his cock into you, making you gasp, your walls clenching violently around him while he fucked you hard and raw.

You gripped the bedsheets beneath you, feeling the knot forming in your lower area. “J-Joong… I—”

“I know, baby, I’m close too,” he groaned out, his thrusts getting sloppy. “You’re taking me so well, fuck.”

Hongjoong moved one hand down to your clit, his fingers rubbing your nub in circular motions. You screamed his name when your second orgasm washed over you. Hongjoong pulled out immediately, spilling onto your stomach. You reached out to pump his cock, milking him dry. Hongjoong collapsed beside you, body coated in a thin layer of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead. He pulled you into a sweet kiss a few seconds later.

“That was amazing,” he murmured against your lips. You smiled, placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. “Let’s clean up, hmm? Shower with me?” You nodded, letting him carry you to the bathroom.

#ateez #ateez mafia au #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez hongjoong #Hongjoong #kim dongyoung #hongjoong imagines #san #seonghwa #yeosang #choi san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #yunho #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #song mingi #park seonghwa #jung wooyoung #choi Jongho #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez mafia imagines #mafia ateez #ateez oneshots #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hi! It's an au twilight question.

What if Edward and Bella did the nasty in early New moon. Then the party happens and the Cullens leave. Bella discovers she's pregnant with Renesmee. What do you think what would happen?

A very interesting question, anon. One that will go very interesting places, I'm sure.

That said, as usual, because I'm a completionist, we have to go through the "why no canon?" routine. Bear with me, I simply must.

Why Didn't Edward and Bella Do the Nasty Pre-Breaking Dawn?

For all that Edward is, for all his... questionable morals and sexual fixations, he does have a moral code he strictly holds himself to.

Edward is adamantly against having sex with Bella in terror of the very real possibility that he will murder her in the act. He's very clear about this, he didn't think he could do it, at all, and only his sheer desperation that Bella never be turned, his desire to marry Bella, as well as Alice's thumbs up convinced him to do it.

If Bella was a reasonable person then she would have agreed as well. Sex with Edward, while she's human, is a bad idea. However, Bella never really seems to clue in on what vampires even are so I think the Man of Steel on Woman of Kleenex aspect is lost on her.

Had Alice not given the green light, I imagine Edward would have gone back to the drawing board and ended up either here or here. Bella turning is the worst possible outcome and Edward will risk almost anything, even Bella's death, to see it avoided.

But that doesn't mean it's an action he takes lightly.

He suggests pimping Bella out to Jake before he suggests sleeping with her himself. For Edward, this is a last resort.

More, Edward is a man of his time.

Edward was from an upper class family and, more to the point, still holds himself to the standards of the society he knew when human (much to Bella's amusement).

Edward wistfully talks about courting Bella, how he would have courted her had he been a true man in the time period he was familiar with, and why marriage to him is so very important.

That Edward doesn't seek out the approval of Charlie, Bella's father, is a hilarious aside to me. Edward's all about chivalry until all those old society standards get in his way.

What do you mean a gentleman doesn't sneak into a lady's apartments in the middle of the night to watch her slumber unawares?!

Regardless, marriage is extremely important to Edward, especially in the context of sex.

Edward will absolutely not have sex with a woman who is not first his wife. He also will not marry a girl that society defines as underage, he will wait until Bella's legal and probably until she finishes her primary schooling.

This means Edward was never likely to have sex with her before graduation and certainly not before her eighteenth birthday.

Which, at the earliest, puts her past the New Moon birthday bash.

Edward and Bella Do the Do Anyway

But let's pretend they do it anyway.

I'd say the most likely scenario is after the birthday disaster. This is it, Edward knows he is leaving Bella forever, if he is truly noble then he will never see her again.

Certainly, he will never interact with her nor hold her in his arms. To Edward, this is essentially his last true night on Earth.

So rather than pull a partial D.E.N.N.I.S. system, Edward pulls the full D.E.N.N.I.S. system, he initiates the "I" he was previously missing, "Inspire Hope". Or, in this case, get laid for the first and only time in his life.

He sneaks in through her window. They make beautiful, passionate, tepid love so Edward does not crush her in the act, and as she sleeps blissfully in the aftermath he sneaks back out the window to never be seen again.

(It takes Bella a week to admit that Edward just hit and run. The Cullens aren't coming back.)

However, because Edward didn't actually point blank tell her what was happening, rather than hit her New Moon stage of depression, Bella's instead in denial.

The Cullens are coming back. What, Carlisle has a new job? No, that can't be right, they're coming back. Alice would never leave her without a word. Edward would never leave her without a word.

Jessica pats Bella on the back consolingly and is secretly glad that it's not her. She might have been dumped by Edward Cullen, but at least he didn't humiliate her the way he did Bella Swan.

Leaving without a single word, yikes.

Two weeks go by then Bella gets the flu.

In a single day, she's unable to keep down anything. Huh, that's weird. Very quickly, Bella has her tampon epiphany. Bella is not a virgin, she had sex with Edward, she's late, and she appears to have a baby bump.

Bella is carrying Edward's child.

There is no question of aborting the child. This is Edward's child, the only piece she has left of him, even without Renesmee's gift it's ride or die. Bella is delivering this child even if it kills her.

However, she has some immediate issues.

First, she's visibly pregnant, it's been only two weeks. That's not supposed to happen. More, Charlie is bound to notice sooner rather than later, Bella would like to avoid that, the stigma of teen pregnancy, as well as the inhuman complications that are sure to come along.

Second, there's inhuman complications. Bella can't just go to an OBGYN, not even a town over. She's carrying something half human, a doctor will poke around and find that out, and then Bella's blowing the secret.

Bella knows vaguely of the Volturi at this point, but not the severity of the law, it's more that she promised Edward she would never tell a soul.

Plus, a human doctor wouldn't be able to help anyway.

That leaves vampires.

Bella tries to call/email the Cullens. However, thanks to Edward, all their numbers are disconnected and all their emails no longer exist. Her "Alice, help, I'm pregannant" messages are sent to a void.

(Alice, meanwhile, thinks she's finally successful in blocking visions of Bella. At least Edward will be off her back. Without the cliff diving and Jake, Alice does not assume Bella has died/committed suicide.)

A brief internet survey also yields Bella no results, but it does get her a lot of vampire porn. Thanks internet.

Bella... starts to get worried.

She's getting more and more pregnant in a matter of days, Charlie is starting to notice that she can't keep anything down, and the Cullens aren't taking her phone calls.

Then, Bella has it, she remembers that weird baroque painting Carlisle had of him and those Italian vampire dudes: the Volturi. Conveniently named after the city they live in, Volterra, Italy.

Bella debates her options.

Edward told her that these are the guys who make sure that humans who know the secret disappear. Well, Bella is a human who knows the secret, that's bad. Also bad is that they eat people, Bella is a person.

On the other hand, Edward implied these guys are civilized and friends of Carlisle. That's... good? Bella isn't sure she's on good terms with the Cullens, given the whole abrupt leaving thing, but maybe they don't have to know that.

Bella debates with herself, tries to look up the Denali, and only finds the National Park. She has no idea where these guys even live, or what they even look like besides "blonde hot vampire", and she's short on time. Plus, they are close with the Cullens, so the Cullens probably did tell them "Ew, Bella, No Gross, Do Not Want".

Because the Cullens all hate her now.

Bella has some money saved up, and this is probably a one way trip, and if she doesn't go then... well, it's not looking good. Bella musters up her courage, tells Charlie some outrageous fib to explain why she's disappearing off the face of the planet, and books a flight to Rome, then Pisa, then a bus ride to Volterra.

Bella subsists completely on blue gateorade, this doesn't go well, and she vomits blue in the parking lot.

Regardless, she makes it, huzzah she is in Volterra. It's sunny out and there are no vampires. Bella wanders around the city and looks for the most vampire building she can find.

Luckily, she happens to be right, and it's the very central castle. Well done, Bella.

Bella walks in and spots a vampire. She also spots a receptionist, Bella is very confused. Never the less, Bella says the magic words, "I'm a... friend of Carlisle Cullen?"

Even though Bella doesn't have Aro's name (or any of the other Volturi for that matter), Carlisle's name does the trick. Anyone who works for Aro knows that name.

Color Aro intrigued, he will meet this pregnant woman! (Caius, meanwhile, votes that they eat her immediately out of spite.)

Well, Aro touches her hand and lo and behold she's scarily gifted. And she knows Carlisle, what a great day to be Aro.

Aro explains that everything's totally fine with her knowing the secret, it just means they have to turn her eventually, after she gives birth of course.

Bella stares at him numbly and wonders why Edward made this such a big deal if it was that easy.

Aro insists Bella start from the beginning, as in the very beginning of her life. This is weird, but Bella complies.

An hour later they get to the interesting part: Bella meets Carlisle (and Edward Cullen, Aro guesses). Aro gets to hear the whole, sordid, ridiculous tale of Bella and Edward's romance including the part where he fucked her and ran off into the night.

Aro is stunned.

He first apologizes for the Cullens behavior, they should absolutely not have abandoned her, and not turning her was completely irresponsible (what the hell was Carlisle thinking?)

He then gives the bad news, he... has never heard of anything like this.

You see, normal vampires don't have sex with humans. It isn't done.

Also, there's this thing called Immortal Children (Edward tell you about that, no? Well, he probably thought it wasn't relevant). That thing your carrying might not be a child capable of growth but an insatiable monster.

Or it could be the alien from Aliens.

There's no way to tell, really.

BUT NO NEED TO WORRY, BELLA, THEY WILL FIGURE THIS OUT.

Aro promises Bella his protection and a period of observation for the child. Bella's not sure she likes that observation part, but this seems like a pretty sweet deal otherwise.

As for what to do, well, Aro has to call in the foremost vampire medical expert. Sorry, Bella, but there's only one man for the job.

Aro sends out Demetri to find Carlisle.

Demetri shows up on Carlisle's doorstep, "Carlisle, old friend, Aro has need of you. Your son knocked up a human girl."

Carlisle blinks, blinks again, then does a thousand yard stare. My God.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, Edward is already on Victoria's tail. Carlisle tries to call him, to no avail, Edward isn't taking his phone calls.

Alice and Jasper are already on their trip to hunt down Alice's past. Plus, given the Volturi, they'd be unlikely to come anyway. Carlisle sends them a message.

Carlisle, Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett travel to Volterra to clean up Edward's mess.

And sure enough, there's Bella, very pregnant with a child that is very much not human. Carlisle dies inside, Rosalie's on a warpath that Edward would abandon his pregnant girlfriend to the point where the only place she could turn was human drinking vampires.

Rosalie takes it upon herself to leave Edward the world's angriest voice messages until he returns her phone calls.

Aro's delighted to see Carlisle again. Even if he does have a wife now. Also, Aro claims finders keepers for Bella, Carlisle's not happy about this and less happy that Aro points out that if Edward cared so much he wouldn't be absent right now, would he?

They figure out the blood drinking thing, Carlisle desperately raids a hospital to prevent Bella from being fed the leftovers of the Volturi victims. This likely doesn't work out for him.

At the last possible moment, Edward finally picks up his phone. He learns that all he's tried to accomplish failed spectacularly. Bella is pregnant with his demon child, is literally drinking blood, and is in Vampire HQ with the leader insisting she will be turned immediately after the C-section.

Edward races to Volterra and strides into the room demanding Bella be aborted and remain human.

Aro stares.

Carlisle awkwardly explains that Bella's too far along, it's too late now even if they wanted to, more she adamantly doesn't want to abort and never did.

As for Bella being human... Bella pipes in that she's cool on becoming the vampire part. Aro's a great guy. She then races to embrace Edward, he's come back, after all this time. And he's going to be a father, isn't that wonderful?

Edward loses his mind.

And because this is Edward, I have no idea what he'll do, only it'll be utter madness. This is my best guess.

To be a little more serious, he probably tries to abort the child anyway, he mercy kills Bella and the child, or Renesmee manages to get through to him.

Given canon, it's likely the latter. Bella is convinced that her and Edward's relationship is perfect.

Aro has no idea what to think of any of this.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #bella swan #edward cullen #edward/bella #anti edward/bella #carlisle cullen #the volturi #aro #caius #demetri #rosalie hale #alice cullen #the cullens #the denali #meta #headcanon #opinion

[snowlily95]

Aerith in light of healthcare provider

So, I've wanted to write an analysis about Aerith in light of her medical viewpoint for quite a long time but only recently got the chance to complete it. It is well known in the game that Aerith is the healer of the story. She possesses a great MP with a limit break to heal and buff people which greatly affects your gameplay. Of course, you can equip others with Healing and Prayer materias to render them useful for healing as well. But story-wise, no one can take away Aerith's status as the healer. We know in canon that Aerith provided herbs to the Sector 5 slums doctor to create medicine. And if you finished the Corneo Stash side quest in Chapter 14, you can return to the church and see a couple of elderly sitting on the pew praying. And when you come closer to them you'll hear them talking about how they didn't see Aerith around and they're sure she's alright and probably be around healing people. You know, since the Sector 7 plate just fell. (Even though Aerith is not alright actually coz she was kidnapped by Shinra by this time) Point is, we are fed by the NPCs on how much Aerith had helped around as a healer. She had been doing this for years.

While being in denial about who she actually is, being a healer had always been implanted in her. She is used to it. When you're used to being a healer, there's a certain level when you have a different reaction compared to others. The way you think is different. Apart from that, she's also a Cetra. And we knew for a fact Cetra had a certain affinity towards souls who are returning to the Planet. Meaning, as much as she is used to healing others, she's also used to sensing death.

My whole point is that being a Cardiac Anaesthesiologist and Intensivist as I am, I can totally relate my position with Aerith, as we both have constantly helped people and encounter death on daily basis. While I'm pretty confident that the majority of these might be coincidences (because I'm pretty sure there are no doctors in the SE team), I thought the coincidences are pretty cool to ponder upon and I'm amazed at how the subtle differences between Aerith's reaction to events from other characters.

I'm gonna ignore the meta part of Aerith, mainly because I'm not discussing how much Aerith knew, and if there was anything in jeopardy of what she knew whatsoever. So we're gonna focus on the fact that she is used to healing and feeling people's death. People who are used to death on daily basis had a certain unique view on life and death. And that affects how we act upon facing them too. While this is evident throughout Remake, I'm gonna focus on the plate drop event to be more concise. I will also use Tifa as a comparison to make it easier to see the difference between the reaction of the two. Let’s start!

1) Aerith is quick in emergency situations.

When you are used to people dying, you developed a certain immunity and you are able to have a sound mind and composure at the sudden change of event. As healthcare providers, we face stable situations turning into critical real fast. And we have a switch in our minds that turns us from standby mode to rescue mode. This is exactly what happened to Aerith when Don Corneo revealed Shinra's plan to blow up Sector 7's support pillar. Tifa is part of Sector 7. It is her home. Which is why her reaction showed how she was super devastated, she slowly stood up and muttered "They wouldn't..." because she couldn't believe it. Aerith? She had that switch in her mind, and she immediately turned and say "Come on, guys! We gotta go!". She switched into that critical mode in a second. It helps that she's also not personally connected to Sector 7, and thus her judgment was not as impaired. Of course, they both switched into the critical mode in the sewer, but it was at the moment of revelation that made it different. Just like how healthcare providers switched at the moment of revelation that their patients are at the brink of death—you immediately jumped into rescue mode.

2) She plans for the worst.

Remember after they defeated Abzu and Tifa started to question Corneo's information? She didn't want to believe it, because it didn't make sense to destroy your years of efforts building the plate just to get back to a small group like AVALANCHE. Think about the money they put in to build it, they're gonna have to put them all again. In fact, along their way out of the sewer, Tifa voiced out multiple times how this had been bothering her. But I'm intrigued with Aerith's reply "If he's telling the truth, then we should go. And if it turns out he was lying, then so what?". This here is exactly what doctors do. We plan and prepare for the worst. And if the worst didn't happen, then so what? If you ever had life-saving surgery, your doctors would tell you "You need this surgery coz you might die. But if you do the surgery, there's a high chance you'll survive, but there's a small chance you'll die too". And we prepare for that small chance that our patients die. No, we don't let our preparations lacking because we hope they'll survive. We prepare for the worst outcome possible and get all the equipment ready in case they'll die. If they didn't, then so what? It doesn't mean our preparations were futile efforts. It only means we were prepared. And that line of Aerith seriously hits home to me.

3) She hopes for the best.

Before they crossed the water sewer, Tifa once again voiced out how she couldn't stop thinking about what Corneo said, and she was still hoping that he was lying. And then Aerith said, "The future isn't set in stone". (Again, I'm gonna ignore the meta part of Aerith) And then she proceeded to set up that small date with Tifa. Believe it or not, this is actually what we do during bad calls. We'd talk about what we would do after all this ends; we'd go out dining, or playing games/darts, or go drinking, or whatever it is that makes us happy. Just to keep our minds calm and to allow us to hope for the future, even if it's just a few hours away. It gives us hope and courage to go on. We plan for the worst, but we hope for the best. The more critical the situation is, the more you need to be level-headed. And needless to say, after this point onwards, Tifa is much more calmed down from her struggle to keep herself focus.

4) She follows orders.

This might sound weird to some, but the ability to cast away your worry and focus on what you can do, instead of what you should do, is important in emergency situations. You need to know what you don't know. You don't get in the way of your comrades. If you're not good at intubating, you don't insist to intubate in emergency situations just because you wanna help. Seriously, you'll just make things worse. When Cloud, Tifa, and Aerith were attacked before climbing up and out of the sewer, Cloud asked both Tifa and Aerith to keep going. Aerith immediately answers "Okay" and left—without a single but. This is significant because it shows that Aerith knew she'd be better off leaving. She doesn't need to offer help, coz her help was not needed. This is not the place where she could help. The ability to recognize this is very important for healthcare professionals. Tifa was a bit more reluctant to leave, but that's probably because she is a martial artist in-game. Also, the fact that Aerith could still joke "We're not delicious" is just so real lol! Yup, we joke sometimes when we're facing deaths—doesn't mean we lose focus in saving the dying person in front of us, don't worry. And then it happens again when they reached Sector 7 when Cloud asked them to stay with Wedge as he goes up, Aerith immediately answered "sure"—because she can "patch" Wedge up, it's where her abilities lie. This is even more accentuated when an injured Wedge argued that he can still fight when he clearly can't—making this point even more obvious. Aerith is someone with a healthcare mind, Wedge was not.

5) She supports her comrades emotionally even when she’s worried too.

When they reached the surface, they spotted a Shinra helicopter. Cloud assured them they're only on patrol. Aerith turned to Tifa and said, "Don't worry, we'll make it in time". This moment is also very iconic to me. As I mentioned, I'm an anaesthesiologist. We are the support doctors to surgeons and physicians. Those moments when we're operating on AAA surgeries and the patient is losing liters of blood and literally dying, we're pumping bloods in with our hands and get those Level 1 machines operating, and the surgeons would be panicking because it keeps bleeding? Yep, I did say it before. "We'll make it. Just concentrate on the surgery and don't worry about the bleeding", even though I'm sweating and dying here trying to keep the patient alive. But I pretended to be calm in front of my team and cheered them on. Because the whole team needs to keep calm. If one of the team loses hope, then bid your chance farewell. As an anaesthesiologist, we're almost like the anchor in the room. People look at us to know if everything's alright. I need to tell them it's alright, so they need not worry. Aerith knew Tifa is worried. And she tried to keep Tifa calm with reassurance. Even if she probably freaked out herself.

6) She doesn’t discriminate.

After they defeated the ghost at the haunted maintenance facility, Cloud tried to kill it, and Aerith didn't let him. When Cloud said that thing was dangerous, Aerith said she knows and added "but even so..." she didn't feel right about killing it. (Let's ignore the fact that the Ghoul was a lonely creature for now) It then goes to drop the train wreck which almost killed them had it not been for Cloud. Now this would have been avoided had Aerith let Cloud killed it—maybe. But here's the thing. When you're hyper-aware that people are dying left and right, you value life more. No one deserves to die, even the worst criminal in the world. You're a law-abiding citizen? You're a criminal? It doesn't make a difference to us. I know this is something super hard to comprehend. But technically only when the law subjects the criminal to the death sentence that a person should be left to die. I've been a doctor for eleven years, I was a prison doctor for two. I had the first-hand experience of dealing with criminals. It's not my job to determine whether they deserve to die or not. It's not my call whether they will turn a new leaf had they lived. I know this is something others find difficult to relate to and agree with—happens to my non-medical family and friends. The verdict to us is simple. It's a life. It's worth saving. Period. (Technically the ghosts are dead though but my point still stands)

7) She tries to her best abilities and lets go of what is out of her control.

Tifa's emotions are tampered with again when they confirmed Shinra was going to drop the plate when they overheard the Turks conversation. Her voice shook, we can literally hear it. Aerith's response was "all we can do now is keep moving". And she's right. When they reached Sector 7 and the Whispers were preventing them, she said "we have to get past whatever it takes". And later on, Tifa left to help Cloud and Barret, and Aerith agreed to get to Seventh Heaven to ensure Marlene's safety. Wedge had a short mental breakdown when he realized he was no good to anyone up or down the crime scene. And Aerith told him "We can still save a lot of lives", "That's no excuse to give up", "I need to know I did everything I could". Her encouragement helped Wedge save more people. Some argued, did she not care about the lives that already died? Now here's my point; no, we don't. Sorry if this sounds harsh, but really. What can we do for people who are already dead? Nothing. What can we do for people who are still alive? Everything. And this is the core of being a healthcare provider—we prioritize. Yes, we're also humans. We can get emotional when our own friends and relatives die. (Aerith might not be as calm had it happened at Sector 5) But when we put the healthcare provider cap on, we mean business. That is why when disasters happened, and we triage people with a black tag? That's when we know we couldn't do anything for them. We don't mourn at the black tags. We move on to the other tags instead. So that we know we already did everything in our power to help. And yes, it doesn't matter even if we lost more lives than we saved. It's worth it, even if we only saved one person out of thousands of deaths. Just like how Aerith saved Betty in Sector 7. That one life is worth it.

#Aerith Gainsborough #Aeris Gainsborough #ff7 aerith #aerith #aeris #FF7 Remake #final fantasy 7 remake #final fantasy vii remake #ffvii remake #ff7remake #final fantasy vii: remake #final fantasy vii #Final Fantasy 7 #FFVII #ff7

[sidespromptblog]

What to Do?: Chapter 8

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Nine, Ten

Warnings: Patton Angst, and food mention. 

Summary: Logan realizing that his first mistake was seeing the other sides as anything other than coworkers. They weren't a family. They didn't even like each other. How had he not realized sooner?

Word Count: 1,657

Patton sat hunched on the floor in front of the oven, watching as the cookies he was baking slowly rose as they were cooked right before his eyes. Behind him another bowl of cookie batter sat, waiting for the very same thing. And in the fridge there were already cookies cooling down, and still his fingers itched to do something.. anything really that would help keep his mind away from what had made it most sad to begin with.  He didn’t want to think about this, any of it really. He just wanted to stay focused on the things that made him happy, and the things that made the others happy too. 

If Logan saw him like this he’s-

No. 

Patton stubbornly shook his head, as his heart plummeted at the thought of Logan and just what Logan would think if he saw him like this… if he saw him pushing down his negative emotions in favor of the good ones. They had already talked about this, they had already come to the conclusion that Patton still didn’t want to face even right now. It was better this way, he had told himself. Someone had to be happy around here, even if he was just pretending. He’d cried enough for all of them, and now it was time to get over that and move onto being happy again. It was better than seeing Roman slowly sink into self-despair like he had been when he had accepted Janus, and it was better than seeing Virgil slowly grow more and more anxious over time with no way to stop it. He had to do this, for all of them. 

Even if Logan…

Patton felt his eyes mist over in a second, before he stubbornly rubbed his sleeve over his eyes. 

“I’m fine,” He listlessly muttered to himself, keeping his eyes firmly fixed onto the cookies. “I’m fine…” 

“Tsk.” 

Patton flinched with his whole body, as his head snapped around in an instant to look at the side who was standing there at the entrance of the kitchen. His mouth twisted into a tiny half smile, that he honestly didn’t even feel like giving. But be that as it may, it still felt just the slightest bit nice to see the side in front of him, like he wasn’t totally alone and surrounded by sad people who had no idea what to do.

Janus smiled down at Patton, the kind of smile that made the scales on the side of his face shimmer in the warm lighting of the kitchen. “I thought lying was my thing,” The dishonest side began, as he crouched down to Patton’s level, so that he could look at him just a little bit closer. “Right?” He asked, reaching forward slowly to dust a chunk of flower from Patton’s cheek. 

The soft scrap of the glove against his cheek made Patton sigh for a short second, it had been too long since he’d had any kind of bodily contact. There had been no hugs, no hand holding, and no… late night movie sessions where they all piled on top of one another. So just this tiny hint of contact made him want to melt into Janus, and never let the other side leave.

“Yeah.. yeah it usually is.” He finally whispered, sadness clinging to every pore of his body. “But right now I think it’s necessary…” 

I need it… 

The words were left unspoken, and yet Janus heard it all the same as he seated himself more comfortably on the cold floor. The oven let off a wave of warmth that he was secretly very thankful for, and with little opposition Janus lifted the edge of his caplet letting it drape over Patton’s shoulders as well. For a moment he could only watch as the moral side sank gratefully into it, his eyes closing as his cheek squished against Janus’ shoulder. Janus didn’t say it, but… 

Patton looked exhausted. 

To the point where he was sure that the other side would all too easily fall asleep right here if Janus didn’t move or say anything, and god knew he was not the most comfortable person to fall asleep on. But despite how the words he wanted to say were on the tip of his tongue, Janus didn’t say a word, instead choosing to wrap his arm around Patton letting the other side use his lap as a pillow as he sprawled himself out on the floor. Shrugging off his caplet, and with the warmth of the oven on his back it was all too easy for him to cover the moral side with it, letting him have this one solitary comfort.  

If only for a little while, at least. 

“Janus?” Patton asked softly, startling the other side from his almost nap that he had been nodding off into. “Do you think Logan is lying to himself? When.. when he’s acting this way?” 

For a moment Janus was stumped on just how to answer the moral side, he knew that perhaps it would make Patton feel better if he lied to him, but for how long? If he thought that this whole thing was temporary then.. then all he would be doing was giving him empty hope that perhaps things would end up changing. That would be more hurtful in the long run, and… and Patton would eventually find out that he had lied, and would be hurt even more by Janus’ own actions. He wouldn’t trust him if he lied about this, because he cared about Logan, even if Logan was trying to act like he didn’t care about them. 

He sighed, and felt Patton’s head twitch on his lap. “I think…” He slowly began, trying to phrase it right, “That Logan truly believes that this is the best path for him, so he’s determined to see it through. But… he’s also certain that should it come down to it, none of you would listen to him if he stopped. He thinks in a certain way that..  that you all hate him.”

Patton moved to jerk his entire body up, a denial on his lips. Just to stop as soon as Janus gently guided him back down. 

“I’m not done,” The dishonest side said firmly but gently, “He still cares about all of you I think, but he’s not going to give himself the chance to ever come back. He’s burning down as many bridges as he can, and as quickly as he can before he changes his mind and wants to repair things with all of you.” Janus can feel another sigh building up inside of him. “But I also think that all of you are in denial as well…” At Patton’s curious and worried look Janus slowly went on, trying to be as gentle as possible about it. “About how you’ve all treated him, and I think that you’re all lying to yourselves about the part that you’ve played in this coming to be.” 

Patton is quick to open his mouth to disagree, he wants to disagree with almost everything that Janus has said about them doing anything to bring this on. As far as he was aware he had always treated Logan the best that he possibly could, and while it was true that he had floundered sometimes and gotten lost in himself… he’d done his best. 

Hadn’t he? 

Looking at the family pictures he could see hanging on the walls from where he was sitting, his stomach plummeted in an instant as guilt quickly replaced the sadness he had been feeling mere moments ago. Logan was there in each and everyone of the photos, but he was in the back, where Roman, Virgil, and even Patton had taken up most of the frame. It had left Logan looking almost out of place in the pictures, as if.. As if he didn’t belong there with any of them. Looking at those pictures now, where he had once felt nothing but happiness and pride towards his family, he now felt as if he had failed Logan in every single one of them in every single kind of way that a friend shouldn’t have. 

After everything that had happened… 

They had been anything but a family to Logan, and Logan deserved to distance himself from that kind of “love”. 

Because he deserves better than that. 

“Janus?” Patton asked for a moment, looking over to the side in question to see that he was fully paying attention to Patton. “What should we do?” 

That was the kicker wasn’t it? 

What should they do? 

It was clear that Logan was going to be resilient against any of their advances to fix things, as the logical side was determined to think that things would go back to the way they were before if he slipped up even once. And he was only going to double down too, if they did get him to slip up and treat them as they had been in the past, which would only draw things out for longer and make things harder on themselves. So there was very little that they actually could do to actually fix things, surprisingly Logan had made it so that the entire ball game was in his court and they couldn't make a single move to change the tides.   

He would make an excellent chess player, Janus fondly thought to himself. 

“Slowly,” He finally summarized, as the plan mapped itself out in his head. “So slowly that it feels like nothing is changing, you have to play Logan’s game if you want him to even entertain yours. If you want things to go back to normal, this has to be the new normal for a while. Let him slip up, and let him try to come back, and when that happens…” Janus smiled a little, as he looped his arm around Patton. 

“You’ll have Logan, and not Logic.”

#patton sanders #ts patton #ts patton sanders #janus sanders #ts janus #ts janus sanders #sanders sides #ts sides #ts sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #ts sanders sides fanfiction #ts sides fanfiction

[starlightsearches]

The Supreme Leader’s Wife

18+ Only! Minors will be blocked.

Armitage Hux x Reader (she/her pronouns) x Kylo Ren

Warnings: Smut (18+ only) PIV sex, name calling (very minor), cuckoldry, brief orgasm denial, fingering, masturbation (m), choking (minor), some dom/sub elements (also minor), religious imagery (whoops), language. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Wow, okay, I don’t really know where this came from and I probably won’t write anything like it again. Very loosely inspired by this drabble that I did a few days ago. Shout out to the wonderful @thembohux for their support and encouragement. If you enjoy this, you should definitely check out their Emperess AU.

Let me know what you think! I appreciate any and all thoughts 💖

General Hux stands outside the door, hands clasped behind his back in tight fists, the fingers of one hand circling his other wrist with enough pressure to bruise. The nape of his neck itches, leftover moisture from the shower dripping down the collar of his greatcoat and wetting the back of his uniform. He had spent too long in the refresher, trying to wash the thoughts from his head, trying to decide whether or not he would even come—it had almost made him late.

He’s here, right on time, whether or not he should be. The door opens, and he steps inside the darkened room.

“Come in, General.” It’s Ren who speaks, voice low and quiet. Hux follows the sound, moving carefully in the darkness to the sitting area. Ren lounges arrogantly, sprawled on the couch like a throne, arms bare and stretched casually over the edge of the sofa, regarding Hux with the faintest hint of humor in his eyes. It puts him on edge.

“I didn’t think you’d show.”

“Yet I’m here.” Hux looks away, hoping he appears bored as he takes in his surroundings. He'd been in the Supreme Leader's chambers before—on business—but you had never been around during those meetings. It's strange how habitual it feels to look for you when he enters the space.

“She’s still getting ready," Ren pulls the thought right from Hux's head, responding as if he had spoken aloud, "but I’m sure she’ll join us in a moment.”

“And it's— I mean, she knows that she doesn’t have to . . .” He sighs through his nose, his jaw clenched tight. Ren doesn't bother to finish his sentence this time, sinking further into his seat—enjoying the way the general fumbles.

“Fuck you?" He finally offers, running his tongue over his teeth when a blush spreads over Hux’s cheeks, "this was her idea."

Oh. The general’s knees go weak, the blood rushing from his head, his cock certainly flushed and aching. How many times had he imagined what it would be like—fooled himself into believing that it was your hands, not his own, bringing him his release? How many times had he watched you speak and thought about pulling a moan from those pretty lips?

A part of him trembles, his body on full-alert, trying to bury those thoughts where Ren could not find them—as he had done before—but he manages to brush the fear away with some effort. Ren had certainly already seen them, and, apparently, he didn't mind.

The refresher door opens and you appear at the threshold, hesitant, but when your eyes meet his, you soften. The air is charged between you, hints of your desire evident in the warmth he feels just looking at you, in the way your teeth run softly over your bottom lip.

Ren beckons you to him with an outstretched hand, and, reluctantly, you peel your eyes away from Hux, moving across the room to your husband, the fabric of your robe swishing gently against your thighs.

He doesn't usually let himself stare like this. He can resist the urge, most of the time, when you're dressed for a meeting, or a gala, but he's never seen this much of your skin before. His eyes stay glued to the hem of the robe, the sway of your hips as you make your way to your husband.

You curl into Ren’s lap, and he holds you tightly, one possessive hand splayed wide over your stomach, the other trailing to fingers up and down the inside of your thigh. He presses a kiss to the junction of your shoulder and neck, and you melt, lips parting gently when he grazes the delicate skin with his teeth.

"Sit down, general."

Desire pools in Hux’s stomach, and his palms grow moist in his gloves. He can’t help the shame that floods him, a ruddy heat that spreads through his torso all the way to the tips of his fingers and tells him to look away. His mind can not let go of the idea that this is not something meant for him to see, but he can’t deny the way his heart races when Ren’s hand trails higher, and he spies a hint of black lace at the apex of your thighs.

"I'd prefer to stand."

“Sit down or leave,” Ren’s voice is steady and hard, totally unaffected as you move against him, writhing in his lap. He slips the hand on your stomach under the fabric of your robe, parting it beneath his fingers. He kneads your breast beneath the fabric and you press up into his touch, spine arching, jaw hanging open, your head falling back against Ren’s shoulder. Hux does as he’s told, falling into the chair behind him, holding back the curses that threaten to spill out from his lips.

"If I'm going to let you do this, you have to do as I say," Ren continues, but Hux only half-hears him, infinitely more interested in the way the tendons in your neck flex as Ren slips one hand beneath the waistband of your panties, the fabric distorting with each long, slow stroke of his fingers. A low moan escapes your lips.

“Well, will you?” Ren smirks at him, pulling his hand from between your legs, taking his middle finger into his mouth, letting it linger before he pulls it out with a soft, wet pop. You whine at the lack of contact, the sound cut off by a small cry when he pinches your nipple beneath the fabric.

“Will I what?”

“Do as I say?”  

Hux’s core tightens, his jaw so stiff it’s a wonder it hasn’t snapped. He knows that Ren’s getting off on this—torturing him, making you so desperate and needy. He wants the one thing Hux swore he’d never give him.

“We’re waiting, general,” Ren strokes his hand from the hollow of your throat, between the valley of your breasts as he parts the robe down its center, exposing the barest sliver of skin before he meets the black lace again, stroking three thick fingers over your clothed cunt. Hux presses his lips together so firmly that they turn white.

Unphased by Hux’s stubborn response, Ren changes tactics. Shifting his attention to you, he grips your jaw in one massive hand and forces your eyes to meet his as he whispers, just loud enough for Hux to hear, “So wet already, little slut? Do you need the general to fuck you that desperately? Why don’t you tell him how badly you want his cock?”

“Please,” you’re grinding against nothing now that Ren has removed his hand, the word distorted by the strength of his hold on your face. A sharp pain draws Hux back from the scene before him, and he tastes blood, his teeth digging sharply into the meat of his cheek. He wonders if Ren would refuse your release if he decided to leave right now.

“Alright, fine. I’ll do whatever you want,” Hux can’t stop himself, can’t imagine going back to his quarters alone. His hands ache at the thought, unsure how many times he’d have to fuck his fist raw to stop seeing the image of you begging for him engraved on the back of his eyelids.

“Good. Why don’t you show him to the bed, love?”

Ren releases his grip on your jaw, sliding his hand out from under the robe, propelling you forward with a smack to your ass. Hux forces himself to make eye contact when you offer him your hand.

He follows you through the doors, to the bedroom, the heat of your skin sinking easily through the leather of his gloves and doing nothing to quell the sweat beading against his palms. The sight of the bed, with it's dark, silky sheets makes him light-headed. This is the place you lay every night—the place where Ren has you, the way he’s about to have you. Hux reminds himself to breathe.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Hux whispers as you turn around to face him, pulling him closer with a hand at his waist. Ren hasn't entered the room yet, and although the other man assured him it was fine, he'd never forgive himself if he learned that you had been coerced.

“I’m sure,” your smile is sincere, and you’re close enough now that your bodies brush, the material of your robe slipping gently against his uniform, "I’ve always wanted this. From the moment we met," You stroke your hand up his side, fingers dancing lightly over his ribs before you take the collar of his great coat in your hands, pushing it down off his shoulders.

“You’ve always wanted . . . me?” The edge of the bed dips under his weight as you pull him into a sitting position, and he resists the urge to rub his palms over the tops of his thighs. You smile again, dropping your chin to your chest, suddenly shy.

“You didn’t know? I thought I had been too obvious.” 

Ren enters, chair in hand that he rests at the end of the bed before stretching out across it, his legs spread wide, making no effort at all to hide the considerable tent in his pants. Hux averts his eyes, more than a little flustered. He had passively assumed that Ren was well-endowed, given the man’s stature, but having his assumptions confirmed is an entirely new feeling.

Ren refuses to shy away from the attention, resting his hands behind his head, the picture of self-satisfaction. There’s a suggestive humor in his voice when he speaks.

“What are you waiting for, general? Kiss her.”

Hux collects himself, taking a moment to remember why he’s here before he does as he’s told, cupping your jaw lightly. There’s a soft sheen of moisture coating your lips, but you lick them regardless, darting your tongue over your skin as he pulls you closer. He presses his mouth to yours gently, and you sigh against his skin, sinking into him. He can feel your heartbeat in the tips of your fingers when you brush them over his cheeks.

“Like you mean it.” Ren's voice cuts in, and Hux resists the urge to roll his eyes. He is kissing you like he means it, not that Ren would understand that. He’s not about to argue that point, though. He pulls you closer instead, one hand firm at your waist, slipping his tongue into the warm center of your mouth. You taste sweeter than he had expected.

The room grows warmer, your heat sinking through his uniform, deep into his skin and he's almost able to forget Ren's presence, caught up in the infinitely more pleasurable feeling of your hands and your body on his. Your grip on his uniform is desperate, needy, but never harsh. His stomach lurches when you lay back, letting his weight rest more fully on top of you.

A thin layer of sweat glistens on your neck, and he collects it on his tongue, licking a stripe up the column of your throat, the salt of your skin mixing with the lingering flavor of the leftover perfume that still clings to you.

His fingers find the collar of your robe, pulling it down off your shoulder, lips trailing leisurely over your collar bones. He can feel, more than see, Ren’s irritation at his reluctance to speed up the process—his annoyance permeating the room—but he chooses to ignore Ren more fully. If he only had one chance to experience such long-lived fantasies, he was going to take his time. 

Your fingers card gently through his hair, stroking from the back of his neck up, pulling him closer, the wet heat of your breath soft against his ear. One of your hands finds his, letting him feel the soft lace that covers your breast under his fingers. 

He pulls away slightly, absorbed in the gentle shift in your expression when he runs the pad of his thumb softly over your pebbled nipple, relishing the quiet gasp the move elicits. 

You shrug the robe off your shoulders the rest of the way, leaning back with a coy smile, letting him admire the way the lingerie enhances your frame—the peaks and valleys of your body on display for him.

There’s no need for Ren to order him to continue—he’s back on you before the other man can express any kind of frustration, his lips on yours, clumsy and desperate and so damn eager that he surprises himself. Hux’s fingers tremble against your back as he works to undo the clasp of your bra, a shaky breath of relief leaving his lungs when it gives way without too much trouble.

You slide the garment off your shoulders, letting him look at you, your chest littered with fading bruises—Ren’s marks. The general’s mouth waters, and he leans in closer, ready to taste more of you, but he comes to a halt when you press one hand lightly to his shoulder, stopping his approach. Your tongue traces the top of your teeth before you turn to look at Ren. 

Of course. He needs permission.

Ren’s leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped tightly together, the blood gone from his fingers. Hux is surprised that he had not touched himself yet. He would not have expected Ren to have that kind of restraint.

“You can leave marks of your own, if you’d like,” he says, shifting in his seat. His thinly veiled desperation brings a smile to Hux’s face—Ren didn’t have a monopoly on being difficult.

He turns back to you for confirmation, and you nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Just nothing above the collar, general,” you snake your hand over his again, pressing it into the supple flesh of your breast. 

Hux has never believed in the existence of a pleasant afterlife—especially not for someone like him—but he’s sure that if one did exist it would pale in comparison to the way you gasp when he presses a kiss to the valley of your breasts, the hummingbird beat of your heart making itself known against the tip of his nose. 

He wastes no time now, lavishing your body with the press of his lips, occasionally surprising you with a soft bite, the gentle graze of his teeth. Subtly, he lets one hand trace its own path down the curve of your waist and over the swell of your hip before nestling it gently between your thighs. 

“General,” you gasp when he slides one finger past the hem of your panties and into your waiting heat, your cunt giving a preliminary squeeze around the solitary digit. Your hips shift against his hand, body desperate for more, but he refuses to give in, pinning your hips in place with the edge of his own. Hux has always been a patient man. He wouldn’t dream of rushing this.

“So needy, Your Highness,” he whispers, ghosting the pad of his thumb gently against the stiff peak of your clit in slow, languorous circles, “Has your husband not been fucking you the way that he should?”

You moan quietly in response, the sound muffled by the fabric of his uniform as you bury your head the crook of his neck. He keeps his movements slow and methodical, curling his finger against your tender front wall on each stroke, increasing the pressure on your clit with steady precision. A lower, deeper sound joins the steady chorus of your sighs and Hux’s heavy breathing. 

He catches Ren’s eye over the expanse of dark sheets. It seems the Supreme Leader has finally given in, one hand stroking up and down his clothed length with excruciating leisure. The muscles in his jaw tighten, a testament to the restraint it must take to only offer himself this inadequate kind of relief, his dark hair plastered in slick strands against his sweat-soaked skin. There’s an animal, in his features—a carnal and base burning in his eyes that he cannot mask. 

Hux snorts. Ren had spent all this time pretending that this was a favor for the general—bargaining chip, a kind of leverage. But the veil has been lifted. Ren is enjoying himself just as much as you are.

He adds a second finger without warning, savoring the way you shake against him, how exquisite you look with your head against the mattress, eyes shut tight and jaw pressing against the boundaries of your skin in a silent scream of ecstasy.

“General, please,” you manage to whimper, the languid movement of your hips meeting him at every stroke, chasing after the peak of your pleasure. He stills his hand.

“Armitage,” he says brusquely, breathing labored, the sound blocked out by the soft cry that escapes your lungs, tears of frustration pricking the corners of your eyes, “call me Armitage if you want to cum.” 

“Do as he says,” Ren orders with no attempt to mask the tremor in his voice, stilling the pace of his hand to a stop, savoring the pain of his own stolen release. 

“Armitage,” you grip at his uniform with both hands, pulling his mouth to yours, desperation evident in your every movement, “please, gods, please—”

He lets you kiss him, focuses all the attention of his hand on your clit, the movement of his thumb against the sensitive skin quicker and harder but no less steady. 

He feels you break against him, your jaw left slack as he licks into your mouth, your thighs quivering at his sides, cunt clenching around his sopping fingers. He holds you against him until the shaking stops. 

Your kiss finds his cheek first, arms heavy and graceless as they pull him closer, your lips traveling sloppily against his skin until they meet his own. You press your mouth to his, and some part of him thinks that it feels like love. Wishes that it could be love. 

You whisper something to him, breathing too hard for the words to come out clearly, your hand teasing him through the fabric of his trousers. His cock jumps, unfamiliar with this kind of attention; it’s not love, but maybe it’s enough.

Your fingers make quick work of the fastenings on his uniform, pushing it from his shoulders, your hands trailing down his arms, the cold air collecting against his skin for only a moment before you sweep it away with your searing touch. You lift your hips into his, slipping your underwear off with both hands, totally bare for him.

“Enjoying yourself?” You’re not talking to him, Hux knows—his enjoyment is more than obvious as he licks and sucks over the soft flesh of your chest, your voice catching when he takes your nipple into his mouth with a soft bite. You’ve turned your attention to Ren, now, and Hux pauses his ministrations, passively curious. He watches as you pass the sweat and slick-soaked lace in your hand to your husband, who balls them into his tight fist, working the fabric leisurely over the head of his now-uncovered dick.

“I think you’re being spoiled, love” he says, leaning closer, on his knees at the side of the bed. He strokes his thumb across your cheek, sparing a short glance for Hux, “you’ve been letting the general do all the work. Why don’t you show him how good you can be? How good you always are for me?”

Hux’s breath hitches. He likes the sound of that. 

You smile wide at the thought, pressing a soft kiss to Ren’s unsuspecting lips. He stands quickly, turning back the way he came, but not before Hux catches the softest hint of a blush spreading across his temple.

You press against Hux’s torso, guiding him into a sitting position. He rests at the edge of the bed, chest thrumming as you straddle him, your thighs caging his hips against the mattress and your hands on his shoulders. Your fingers slip down his spine until you reach the hem of his undershirt. He stops you from untucking it with a hand on your wrist.

“I’d like to keep it on,” he knows you can feel the trepidation in his shaking hands; he sees the questions in your eyes, and for a moment he’s afraid, wondering if you also have your husband’s talent for picking thoughts from his mind—if you somehow know the way his stomach sinks at the thought of being totally uncovered. 

“Alright,” you say, brushing past the pause, leaning closer to caress the ruddy skin of his chest with your lips, the glide of your tongue over his neck pulling any and every insecurity from his head. When you drag your hips over his, your bare cunt sliding deliciously over his dick, he forgets everything but his own name.

He’s not sure how it happens, whether it’s your hands or his own that finally pull his cock into the open air—he’s gone lightheaded, arms shaking as he grips the sheets in white-knuckled fists, focusing all the energy he can summon on keeping upright.

The head of his cock stutters against your entrance, the slick on your skin coating his own as you shift your hips back and forth with just enough pressure to keep him hard, letting out a delighted gasp when he twitches, the tip of him bumping up against your swollen clit.

“That’s enough teasing.” Ren stands behind you, one hand on your shoulder, the muscles in his other arm flexing as he pumps his cock in his hand more vigorously. You roll your eyes, turning to press a soft kiss to Ren’s chest before seating yourself fully on the general’s stiff cock.

The air punches from Hux’s lungs, his brow furrowed, breathing hard as he adjusts to the feeling. 

Hux had spent plenty of time jealous of Ren, a kind of awed hatred that his greatest rival had so much of what Hux desperately wanted for himself. Power, glory, accolade. It's all dust compared to the way you envelop him on that first and divine thrust.

“Does he feel good, love?” Ren asks, peppering the skin of your shoulders with a few soft kisses before he tucks one finger under his chin, admiration in his eyes as he takes in your pleasure-soaked expression. “Is it everything you wanted?”

“Hmm,” you hum contentedly, circling your hips steadily, getting a feel for his length and size, squeezing him just right, “perfect.” 

You speed up slightly, lengthening your strokes, pulling away from him until only the head remains inside before seating yourself down once again, trembling with each sublime impact, your thighs shaking with each movement. 

“Just— Just like that,” Hux stutters, head lolling back, letting himself enjoy this. He likes it more than he thought he ever would—allowing someone else this kind of control, letting you set the pace. He wants you to feel good. He wants you to use him.

Ren looms over both of you, his chest flush with your back, the pressure from his body only heightening the gratification Hux feels.

You whine, pressing the general into the mattress, laying him flat on his back with your hands on your shoulders before you sit up, the deeper angle pulling cries from your lips like never before.

“Please, my love,” you press one hand back against Ren’s chest, fingers too limp to reach for him, but he already knows what you want. Hux watches as one of Ren’s giant hands encircles your neck, and he kisses you deeply, the tears that coat your cheeks glistening in the low light. It’s a mess of a kiss, all teeth and tongue, Ren so eager to please and you so desperate for pleasure.

“Gods— f-fuck,” Hux reaches his precipice sooner than he might have hoped, the sight of you so thoroughly fucked and writhing against Ren bringing him to a high he had not previously thought possible. You recognize his need, snapping your hips faster.

Ren removes his hand from your neck and slides it down over the damp skin of your stomach, pushing one thick finger to the space where your body meets Hux’s, sliding it between your folds.

“Cum for me,” he commands, working quick hard circles over your clit, “both of you. Cum for me now.”

You let go with one shattered breath, riding him through your release, fracturing over him with a scream. It’s celestial, this divine indulgence. There is no god in this universe but you and your magnificent cunt.

Hux abandons himself, spilling deep within you with a groan, every muscle in his body aching as his own climax finds him and his vision goes white. His heart leaves his chest, no other reason to beat now that he’s had this.

You fall into him, stroking one hand absentmindedly over his hair, your shaking bodies unable to do anything but breathe together. The slap of skin and soft grunts fills the room as Ren chases his own release, breath stuttering in his chest when he finds it, ropes of his thick, white cum painting down your spine and then he collapses, too.

Ren lands in a messy heap, half on top of you and half on the bed, smearing his own spend over his skin. Without warning, Hux finds Ren’s mouth against his own in a fierce, urgent kiss. 

Hux waits for some kind of repulsion to overcome him, waits for the return of the burning hatred that normally occupies his chest whenever Ren is present, but it never comes, a different kind of burning taking his place. More than anything, he’s annoyed. Annoyed how good Ren’s mouth feels against his own. Annoyed that he wouldn’t mind if it happened again.

“There,” Ren says, rolling back on the mattress, relieving you of the weight of his body, “now both of you are mine.”

Hux scoffs, offended at the implication, but he can tell you notice the way his cock twitches inside of you at the thought. You smile knowingly, pressing a soft kiss to his temple as you roll off of him on the other side, the three of you lying together in the rosy-colored afterglow.

Minutes pass, or hours, Hux is unsure how many when he finally decides to move, his muscles stiff and aching.

“I should return to my quarters,” he says, lifting himself to his feet and reassembling the pieces of his uniform. You move to sit up, but Ren holds you in place with a gentle hand.

“Rest, love,” he says quietly, “I’ll show him to the door.”

Hux leaves you with one final kiss, one of longing, and hope and gratitude. Your fingers brush against his just before he leaves.

There’s an uncomfortable silence between the two men as they move through the abandoned living area.

“This doesn’t change anything,” Ren says as Hux stops just before the threshold, turning to look at him. 

“I didn’t expect that it would,” he replies. Both men know that they’re lying to each other. And maybe, at this moment, while their skin is still warm from a shared love and the scent of your perfume lingers on both of their clothes, it’s a form of kindness to keep believing that this wouldn’t change their world. For now, this is enough.

Hux returns to his quarters, alone but not lonely. For the first time he can remember since he boarded the Supremacy, he sleeps through the night. 

#armitage hux x reader x kylo ren #general hux x reader x kylo ren #armitage hux x you x kylo ren #general hux x you x kylo ren #general hux x you #general hux x reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren smut #armitage hux smut #my writing

[jaskicr]

sequel to the clothes swap featuring buffskier i wrote for this ask:

for buffskier, for some reason jaskier has to wear geralt’s armour (this is like @spielzeugkaiser’s art) and geralt realises that his armour fits jaskier extremely well. and also jaskier can lift his (rather heavy) sword and can also fight with it

As Geralt follows Jaskier back to the village, he hangs back, and if he’s doing it for the glorious view in front of him, that’s no one’s business but his. 

Those tight leather trousers really bring out Jaskier’s considerable assets, hugging Jaskier’s thighs and ass and highlighting every flex of muscle as he walks. Clearly, walking beside Roach for hours every day has done wonders for Jaskier’s legs, and Geralt stares, unable to tear his eyes away, gulping as he takes in the strength of those thighs, wondering how hard they would be able to squeeze -

Suddenly, the thighs stop moving, and Jaskier’s amused voice reaches his ears. “Geralt, are you alright? You seem rather… preoccupied.”

Geralt jerks his gaze upwards to meet Jaskier’s twinkling blue eyes. “Uh?”

Then he realises that his mouth is hanging wide open, possibly about to drool, and he quickly snaps it shut, looking away. He really needs a dip into a river later. Preferably a very cold river. 

“You good?” Jaskier asks, turning around and stepping towards him, and for a moment, Geralt mourns the loss of that wonderful view of his behind, until he’s faced with Jaskier’s chest, made broader by the bulk of Geralt’s armour.

“Hm. Yes. Um.” Geralt struggles valiantly to keep his eyes on Jaskier’s face. “Let’s. Keep going?”

“If you’re sure.” Jaskier's lips are tilted in a smirk, unfairly red lips that Geralt wants to punch. With his mouth. Fuck, what is he thinking? “Do you want to walk next to me, or do you want to follow, ah, behind?”

Geralt grunts. Jaskier has totally picked up on his not-so-subtle staring, and Geralt speeds up to walk next to Jaskier, determined not to get caught out again, and Jaskier huffs a low laugh that sends pleasant shivers up Geralt’s spine. He resolutely ignores the warmth radiating from Jaskier’s bulk as they walk side by side, Jaskier silent for once as they trace their steps back to the village.

Without the distraction of Jaskier’s chatter, Geralt’s mind wanders once again. He recalls Jaskier cutting down the nekkers with expert ease, wielding Geralt’s sword like it’s an extension of himself, swinging the sword through the air with a savage grin on his face. Gods, Jaskier’s strength and unexpected skill with a sword - Geralt used to think that Jaskier was a bumbling bard who relied wholly on Geralt to protect him, who had little strength to speak of, but the past few hours had proved him so utterly wrong.

And he has never been more glad to be wrong. Jaskier’s strength and competence with a sword is an absolutely delightful revelation.

When they reach the village, Jaskier’s stance changes, his shoulders going back and his head tilting upwards, his face schooling into a stoic mask as he falls back into the part of a witcher, and it shouldn’t be as hot as Geralt finds it. Geralt follows him as he stalks into the tavern - no, he struts, hips swaying just so, bringing Geralt’s attention, once again, to his shapely ass. He struts like he wants to conquer the world, like he’s challenging anyone to stand up to him, projecting an aura of danger that Geralt is inexplicably attracted to.

He looks away, cheeks burning. Yes, he’s only just realised that Jaskier has a rather - fine physique, but that doesn’t give Geralt the right to - to ogle him. Jaskier has always been attractive, and Geralt has always admired him - objectively, of course - and there’s no reason that this new development should fluster Geralt as much as it does.

Not that he’s flustered. He has more composure than that. He’s simply shocked, that’s all. All these years of travelling with Jaskier and he hadn’t noticed - he’s simply ashamed of his own lack of observational skills, nothing more. 

His denial sounds flimsy even to himself.

Once Jaskier has collected the payment, they fetch Roach and head out of the village, a silent consensus between them to travel a good distance from it before they change back, during which Geralt tries to contain his thoughts and wrestle them back into appropriate best friend territory.

Because Jaskier is his best friend, and he definitely doesn’t look at Geralt like that, and Geralt shouldn’t be looking at Jaskier like that.

“We’re far enough,” Geralt grunts, pulling Roach to a halt. They’ve travelled a fair distance from the village, far enough that no one should be following them, and they’re obscured by the trees if anyone does pass by. “We should. Change.”

He dismounts Roach and finds himself face to face with Jaskier, who’s standing right in front of him, arms crossed, and Geralt may be a witcher, but even his immense self control can’t stop him from sneaking a glance at the way Jaskier’s crossed arms emphasise the thickness of his biceps, pushing his chest up. 

“You know, Geralt,” Jaskier begins, eyes trailing over Geralt’s face before dipping lower, and when he continues, his voice is raspy. “I couldn’t help but notice you looking at me… quite a lot today.”

Jaskier’s gaze burns through Geralt’s body, lighting him up, and he looks away. “Hm.”

“Oh, don’t hm me, my dear bard.” A gloved finger presses against Geralt’s cheek, forcing his face back to look straight at Jaskier. “Did you think I didn’t notice? You weren’t exactly subtle.” 

There’s laughter in his voice, and something else too, something that Geralt has heard Jaskier use before, but never directed at him. He swallows audibly, and Jaskier’s gaze drops to his throat for a second before flicking back up, blue eyes bright and piercing.

“I -” Geralt’s voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat. “I wasn’t.”

“Oh, you totally were,” Jaskier murmurs with a slow grin. He takes a step closer to Geralt, the movement slow and deliberate. “If I’d known wearing your armour would get you to look at me like this, I would’ve suggested swapping clothes long ago.”

“Like… like what?” Geralt’s heart pounds loudly in his ears, and Jaskier is too close and not close enough.

“Like you want to eat me alive,” Jaskier murmurs, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and Geralt stares. “Like you want to take your armour off me, piece by piece.”

Geralt’s mouth opens and closes, but only a faint, strangled noise comes out, and Jaskier’s face breaks into a pleased grin.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs, and then he’s pressed against Geralt, all that bulk and muscle fitted under Geralt’s black armour, all that warmth right there. “Do go ahead.”

Geralt is frozen, his mind barely processing Jaskier’s invitation, and when he doesn’t move, Jaskier sighs fondly and cups his cheek with a gloved hand.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he murmurs, searching Geralt’s eyes. When Geralt lets out something akin to a strangled whine, Jaskier’s proximity turning his brain to mush and making his head spin, Jaskier chuckles and leans in.

The kiss starts slow and tender, Jaskier’s lips slightly chapped as he presses his mouth to Geralt’s. Then Geralt’s brain catches up to what’s happening, realising that Jaskier is kissing him, that Jaskier is pressed against him and cupping his face with gentle hands, and Geralt deepens the kiss, placing his hands on that broad chest.

When Jaskier pulls away, breathing quick and shallow, his eyes are dark, his lips swollen. “You like seeing me in your armour, huh?” 

Geralt more than likes it. Maybe he should just let Jaskier wear his clothes all the time, which would make their travels far more interesting, and far more torturous on Geralt’s end.

“I like you,” he blurts out, and flushes at the too-honest words.

Jaskier’s eyes widen, and Geralt is about to retract his statement when Jaskier beams, delight spreading across his face, and he leans in again, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of Geralt’s mouth. “I like you too, sweetheart,” he whispers, breath hot against Geralt’s skin, and Geralt shudders. “I like you a lot.”

“Mmf.” His face is burning. “You - uh. I. You look good.” Apparently, Geralt’s brain has lost its filter, but when Jaskier’s gaze turns smouldering, he can’t really complain.

“Good, huh? Care to tell me more?”

“You look good in my clothes.” Geralt’s mouth is running, his thoughts spilling from his lips in an uncontrollable flood, unable to hold back his words under Jaskier’s heated gaze. “I like how my clothes fit you, I like how you fight -”

Jaskier crowds him back until his back hits a tree, trapping him between the tree and the solid bulk of Jaskier’s body, and then Jaskier is pressing him against the tree trunk and Geralt is gasping into the fierce, passionate kiss.

He lets his hands roam around Jaskier’s body, mapping the breadth of his chest and shoulders, relishing in the feeling of leather under his fingertips, and Jaskier presses impossibly closer, one hand bracing himself against the tree and the other dropping to rest on Geralt’s waist, sending a brand of heat through his body.

But it’s not enough, and Geralt finds himself tugging at the straps of his armour, desperate to get it off Jaskier, desperate to see, and Jaskier breaks the kiss with a raspy laugh.

“Eager, aren’t we?”

Geralt only tugs more insistently, throwing a piece of the armour off to the side. There’s something enticing about taking his armour off piece by piece when it’s on Jaskier, and his hands shake slightly as he undoes the straps. Jaskier starts nosing at his neck, and he almost goes pliant, but his determination to see Jaskier bare in front of him keeps his hands from dropping, and finally, the last piece of armour falls away, and Geralt drinks in the magnificent sight.

Jaskier’s shoulders are wonderfully broad, and Geralt skates his hands over warm skin, marvelling at the strength in them. He slips his hands down, tangling his fingers in the dark hair that decorates Jaskier’s chest, hair that Geralt has only seen glimpses of through unbuttoned shirts, hair that Geralt now tugs at appreciatively. 

“Mm, like what you see?” Jaskier rumbles lowly, and Geralt doesn’t answer, showing his appreciation by pulling Jaskier into another kiss as he wraps his arms around Jaskier, hands roaming his large, muscled back.

Suddenly, Jaskier’s hands are underneath his thighs and Geralt is being lifted, his back still pressed against the tree, and he yelps, wrapping his legs instinctively around Jaskier’s waist, arms gripping tighter around Jaskier’s neck as his body lights up in arousal.

Holy fuck.

“What -”

Jaskier swallows his exclamation, and Geralt whimpers. He’s never been lifted before, certainly not with such ease, and there’s barely any strain in Jaskier’s breathing as he continues holding Geralt up, never breaking the kiss.

Gods, Jaskier is strong, and it’s utterly thrilling.

Geralt lets his gaze trail downwards, appreciating the way Jaskier’s thick biceps bulge and flex as he bears Geralt’s weight easily, and he gives in to the urge to palm at Jaskier’s arms, trusting Jaskier not to drop him as he lets one hand fall from its grip around Jaskier to squeeze one strong bicep, enjoying the feeling of the muscles underneath his palm.

“My darling witcher,” Jaskier murmurs against Geralt’s lips. “As much as I like where this is going, perhaps we should move somewhere more comfortable.”

A rush of heat floods Geralt’s body, and he meets Jaskier’s eyes, fixed on him with something like hunger, and Geralt inhales sharply. 

He can’t wait to be devoured.

#geraskier #jaskier #geralt #buffskier #mine*

[subbykboys]

the bad boy’s secret | chanyeol

↳ pairing : badboy!chanyeol x reader

Genre ➞ bad boy AU, fwb AU, college AU, smut

Warnings ➞ sub!chanyeol, dom!reader, bondage, oral (m. & f. receiving), edging, unprotected sex, riding, mild dirty talk, mild degrading, creampie, face riding, cum eating [ sorry not sorry ], reader is in denial , overuse of the word please

Word Count ➞ 8.2k

chanyeol is a bad boy with a nasty reputation. he’s sexy, mysterious, and entirely untouchable. well... to most people, that is. to you, on the other hand-- he’s something else entirely.

posted ; 6.04.20

there was an angry chill in the air. it bit at your face and hands as you strode to the campus lot where your car was parked. all around you, brightly colored leaves fell to the earth as strong gusts of wind broke them free of the branches they so weakly clung to. they blanketed the ground in shades of vibrant reds, tempting oranges, and dull, blotchy browns. 

it was actually really beautiful. you'd always been a fan of the cool undertones of fall. especially the reds. ugh, red was such a gorgeous color. practically everything you owned was red, or some varying shade of it. it was just so sexy and dangerous and— 

"(y/n)!" you were snapped from your inner thoughts by a barking voice. 

quickly, you averted your eyes from the ground and onto the face of the girl walking beside you. her name is Mina, you're pretty sure. you grimaced at her irritated expression, realizing you must have zoned out again. getting lost in your thoughts at inappropriate times was a pretty frequent occurrence for you. 

"huh?" 

she scoffed in disbelief, eyes narrowing, "where's your head at? i've been talking for a solid five minutes and i'm pretty sure you stopped listening six minutes ago."

you chuckled, scratching the back of your neck as an apologetic smile touched your lips, "sorry. i was just thinking about the leaves." 

"you're so weird." 

you didn't know why she felt comfortable saying that to you. you weren't even friends. at least, not by your standards. maybe acquaintances. maybe. 

and that was only because you happened to have the same afternoon photography class and just so happened to sit next to each other. you supposed in her pea sized brain that was enough to qualify for a friendship. but you had standards. and she was god damn rude. 

regardless, you didn't have the energy or patience to start any sort of altercation. so you shrug, head bobbing lazily in agreement. 

"i know."

that seemed to satisfy her as any remaining glimmer of annoyance was swept off her features with one last eye roll and replaced by a light grin, "whatever. hey, there's this party at my boyfriend's frat house tonight and you should totally come." 

"no thanks." was your swift, concise rejection. but of course, that was not enough to satisfy her. 

"what? why not?" her tone demanded an explanation that you really didn't feel like giving. 

sighing heavily, you kicked a pebble across the sidewalks. "parties aren't my thing." 

that was maybe half the truth. you actually did like parties. just not frat boy parties. they were like beacons for girls with low self esteem and insecure rich boys with superiority complexes. they were loud as fuck and made your head ache. not to mention they reeked. apparently, a lot of guys didn't learn in high school how to put on deodorant. your preference stood with more low key parties, with a more controlled number of attendees and some chill drinking. maybe getting a little baked if you were in that vibe. 

"you can be such a buzzkill," she groaned loudly, head rolling back as she stomped her foot childishly. you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

"i know." 

"do you ever just let yourself have a good time? like ever? we're in the prime of our lives for god’s sake!" and there she goes again with the 'prime of our lives' bullshit. please. maybe this was the best life would ever be for her, but you had other plans. 

"i have to finish an essay for my business class." no you didn't. 

"but it's friday! you have all weekend to finish it!" why was she trying to argue with you? you'd already said no, so why was she still trying to convince you. spoiler, you weren't about to change your mind anytime soon. 

"i prefer not to put work off until the very last minute." also a lie. 

"(y/n)," she whined, "come on, i personally think it would be pretty healthy for you not to spend another friday night pent up in that little apartment of yours—" 

all at once she was cut off by the distinct roaring of an engine. both your gazes shifted towards the road ahead of you, watching as a flashy red motorcycle came tearing down the street. an excited gasp exploded from your–barely–acquaintance's mouth while a low groan escaped yours. 

fantastic. just what you needed. your daily dose of—

"Yeolie!"

you winced as she squealed his name, waving energetically. you silent prayed he'd just keep going. but of course, he didn't. his bike came to a gradual halt in front of the sidewalk you stood on. it purred as he planted his feet securely on the cement. 

now this next part you could almost see happening in slow motion. 

he reached up with his leather glove clad hands, pulling off his sleek black helmet to reveal a pair of thick, pink lips, a sharp, defined nose, charcoal black eyes, and a head of silver locks. you could practically feel Mina swooning as he swung his head to the side, effectively flipping his hair like some kind of wannabe fetus Justin Bieber. it took less than a moment for those dark eyes to fall on the pair of you, and a slow smirk to crawl across his face. 

Mina immediately rushed up to him (all too energetically for someone who already has a boyfriend, mind you), squeaking out sweet greetings as her touchy hands found purchase on the sleeve of his leather jacket. 

what was up with him and the leather anyway? it was only on shockingly rare occasions that you witnessed him donning something other than his signature black leather outfit, decorated with silver zippers and complimented by a thick chain around his neck and a single silver earring. how much cheesier could he get? 

you'd think after high school, people would be over the whole 'bad boys are so hot' thing. 

apparently not. 

because at your uni, Park Chanyeol was hot shit. every girl and every guy wanted to get their hands on him in one way or another. he was dangerous, sexy, mysterious, hard to get. he rode a blood red motorcycle and smoked blunts behind the main building for god's sake. 

he was the definition of a cliche. but it seemed you were the only person that could see through his whole charade. 

"(y/n), don't be rude! come say hi to Yeolie!" Mina suddenly whipped around, waving you over. 

this bitch— 

the corner of your lip twitched in a subtle sneer, but, ever the pacifist, you obliged, slowly moving to stand at her side. his irritating smirk widened upon your approach, tongue swinging over the corner of his lip as his eyes dropped to do a brief once over. 

"Chanyeol," you grunted with a less than enthusiastic tone. 

"(y/n)," was his swift reply, voice as deep and smooth as ever, "wonderful seeing you again. you look as happy-go-lucky as ever." 

the sarcasm was palpable. 

"yeah well, it seems i just can't contain myself with you around," you bit back with just as much satire, lips curling dryly. 

"i'm flattered," he all but cooed, head tilting downward as his teeth latched onto his bottom lip. 

he stared boldly into your eyes, and you stared right back with just as much fire. 

"um... do you guys, like... know each other?" 

"no."

"yes."

you both responded simultaneously.

confusion plastered itself across her face, eyes jumping back and forth from your face to his. a taunting smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "we actually went to the same high school, isn't that right, (y/n)?" 

you huffed in annoyance, shoulders slumping, "yeah. we did." 

"and you never told me this because…?" 

because you weren't close in the least and you hadn't even told her when your birthday was let alone about your high school life. 

"didn't seem like important information." 

she gaped at you in disbelief, "anything regarding my Yeolie is important information!" 

was she trying to stroke his already colossal ego? if his head got any bigger, it might just explode.

Chanyeol’s grin broadened at her statement, and you silently groaned, knowing exactly what was coming before he even opened his mouth, "yeah, (y/n). anything regarding me is important information. so why didn't you tell her? trying to keep me all for yourself? how greedy of you." 

"please." you scoffed.

Mina glared at you sharply before plastering an innocent smile across her face and twirling a strand of her platinum blonde dyed hair. "ignore her, Yeolie. i was actually wondering if i'd be seeing you at Jake's party tonight?" 

"wasn't planning on it," he admitted, and Mina pouted, lips puckering, over dramatically whining in protest. suddenly, his eyes shifted to you, that stupid smirk touching his features,  "but maybe if a certain buzzkill was attending... i'd be more tempted to make an appearance." 

buzzkill? oh, you. 

"i'm not—"

"of course (y/n)'s coming! wouldn't be a party without her!" Mina rushed to cut you off, throwing an arm over your shoulder and yanking you into her side with a grip tight enough to bruise. you looked at her like she was crazy, brows furrowed, eyes wide, lip raised in a disgusted sneer. but her hold was enough to squeeze the air out of your lungs and steal away your ability to refute. 

Chanyeol’s brows jumped in surprise, an amused grin spreading across his face, "really?"

"wait, no—"

"yes! i was surprised when she agreed, too! but guess she's finally breaking out of her shell!" you were going to kick her ass if she kept cutting you off. 

"well isn't that great to hear." there was a mischievous flicker in his dark eyes, a look you knew all too well. 

"so... you'll come?" she asked hopefully.

"sure." you were annoyed at how easily he agreed. he was still smirking smugly as he began pulling his helmet back down over his head. shooting you a wink and a two fingered wave, he spoke again, "see ya tonight." 

with that final word, he was speeding off down the road, tires kicking up dust and pebbles as they spun. 

as soon as Mina's grip loosened from around you, you were ten feet away, swiftly walking in the direction of your car. "(y/n)! wait!" she cried out, running after you in her five inch heels. you didn't slow down in the least. 

"i'm not going, Mina," you said sternly, not even bothering to look back at her. 

"b–but i told Chanyeol—" 

"no." 

"please?"

"not. happening." 

⋄⋆⋄

you ended up going. 

not because you wanted to, of course. but because Mina decided it was necessary to show up at your apartment and quite literally drag you out. she was surprisingly strong for such a small person, and fiercely persistent. she'd even gone the extra mile of forcefully applying makeup to your eyelids and lips. that's not to say you didn't put up one hell of a fight. but conflict was never your strong suite, and you eventually ended up going pliant under her ministrations. 

unsurprisingly, it was just as you expected it to be. loud. stinky. and filled to the brim with horny bastards looking for a quick fuck. you'd been there for all of ten minutes and you'd already gotten your ass grabbed six times. slimy assholes think it's acceptable to touch someone without permission. all the more reason you didn't want to stick around for long. 

not to mention, Mina had ditched you the minute you walked in the door to suck faces with her fuckboy boyfriend. since then you'd been gravitating from room to room, searching for the best place to sit without being squished by a horny couple practically dry humping against you. 

luckily, you found your solace upstairs in an empty bedroom. the music was muffled the moment you shut the door, the stuffy air that smelled of sweat and marijuana also clearing out. finally, you could breathe. 

you spotted a candle and lighter on the bedside table, and quickly moved to light it. the dull, soothing glow that filled the room, splashing light across the walls made the headache that had begun to swell at your temples ease up. exhaling softly, you fell back onto the neatly made bed, body relaxing into the soft duvet. 

but of course, your moment of tranquility was short lasting. 

because before you could so much as shut your eyes, the door was opening, and a painfully familiar voice was purring, "there you are~ i've been looking all over for you, (y/n), you sly girl." 

"fucking hell," you growled under your breath, propping yourself up on your elbows to face him properly, "what do you want, Chanyeol?" 

he gently nudged the door shut behind him, before walking over to where you lay. "isn't it obvious?" he murmured, leaning forward to press his hands against the mattress on either side of your ankles. 

"spell it out for me." 

he chuckled softly, knees meeting the bedding as he began to crawl upwards, until his face was hovering over yours. even you couldn't deny how beautiful he looked up close, with those big, dark eyes, boyishly grinning lips, smooth, tan skin... 

"i," he began, nose nudging against your cheek, "want," his lips feathered over yours, "you." 

a dark chuckle rolled off your tongue as you met his hooded, lustful gaze. "you we're so greedy last time... and still... you couldn't get enough," you replied smoothly, voice deepening as your desire for him grew. 

"what can i say? i'm insatiable." 

you scoffed, the corners of your lips curling as you lifted your head slightly, leaving only the tiniest of spaces between your mouth, "i don't think you deserve it." your whisper caressed his lips all too temptingly. A chill rolled down his spine, eyes fluttering as he felt himself falter briefly. 

"maybe i don't... but i can earn it..." 

now that caught your interest. 

a smirk touched your features, "and how might you do that?" 

he bit his lip, trying his best to subdue a grin, "by doing whatever you ask of me." 

"you willing to take that risk? after that little stunt earlier? i might just decide not to go easy on you." your voice was taunting, but the challenge and threat were very real. 

"i can handle anything you give me." 

you raised a brow, amused by his naive confidence. then, in the blink of an eye, you had him underneath you, pinning his wrists to the mattress above his head. the action had been so sudden that he could only gasp in shock when his back collided with the bed. you stared down at him with dark eyes, the tip of your tongue sliding over the corner of your mouth. 

"you sure about that, big boy?" 

he inhaled deeply when your head lowered to the curve of his throat, lips just barely grazing over that sensitive spot. "most definitely." he let out breathlessly, eyes fluttering as he tilted his chin back, offering himself to you. something dark alighted in your eyes, a sinister gleam in your smirk as thoughts of how you could absolutely ruin him flooded your mind. 

"you're going to regret saying that." 

you didn’t offer him the opportunity to respond before your lips crashed down on his. he let out a muffled sound of surprise at the sudden action, but quickly relaxed beneath you, returning the kiss eagerly. 

see? you much preferred Chanyeol when he wasn’t running that big mouth of his. he was always so much more fun when he was choking on desperate moans and trembling uncontrollably under your touch. 

truth about the infamous Park Chanyeol? he was a bitch. 

in fact... he was your bitch. 

it started back in high school. when you were the chill girl who wasn't too well known by anyone outside of your friend group, and when he was the untouchable bad boy that everyone drooled over. 

to keep it to the point, you'd both attended a mutual friend's party your senior year, got wasted, and hooked up. 

but, it wasn't what you'd expected it to be. no, because you'd expect Chanyeol to be the kind of guy to pin a girl (or guy) down and dominate the fuck out of them. but the moment your voice took on an authoritative pitch, he was putty in your hands, whining and moaning and begging... it stirred something to life inside of you that you had no idea was there. 

and it was good. really good. so good, in fact, he came running back to you within the next week practically begging for more. and shit, you gave it to him. he was one of the first guys you'd dominated like that. it was empowering, controlling a guy as big as Chanyeol was. it was an addictive sensation. 

but you'd made it very clear from the beginning that it was going to be nothing more than sex. it wasn't romantic, you weren't friends, and you had no intention of getting to know him on a deeper level than his body. though, he seemed suspiciously intent on worming his way into your life one way or another. the boy was relentless. luckily, you were equally as stubborn. a match made in hell, aren’t you? what a spectacle. 

you drew away from the kiss at the feeling of his tongue prodding at your lips, a low whine following soon after. you scoffed softly at the sight of his pouting face, “so needy.” 

“you can only blame yourself.” he shot back easily, eyes already hooded and darkened with lust. excitement glimmered within them as you reached down between your bodies, fingers slowly undoing his belt. 

“is that right?” you murmured, not breaking eye contact for a single moment, a lazy smirk resting on your face. he swallowed, trembling pupils jumping noncommittally from your intense stare down to where you were making easy work of his belt buckle. 

“i— yes.” you don’t think he knew what he was saying yes to, his mind already becoming a muddled mess from the promise of what the night had in store for the two of you. his rationality had a nasty habit of hopping out the window whenever you got him in this position. 

“what are you hoping happens tonight, Chanyeol?” you asked softly, slowly pulling his belt from the first loop of his jeans. 

he swallowed thickly, head beginning to swing back and forth is slow swoops. “i– i don’t—” his voice broke off with a strangled whine as you allowed your fingertips to caress ever so gently over the ever growing tent in his pants. 

you raised a brow into a questioning arch, stifling a smirk of amusement at his already flustered state. “it’s a simple question.” 

his cheeks pinkened. “i just… want you.” it almost came out more as a question than a statement, words shy and hesitant. 

“want me to what?” you pressed. 

“to… to kiss me.” his gaze fell onto your lips, his own parting. 

“kiss you?” you repeated, tone on the verge of taunting. “asking for a lot there, aren’t you, sweetheart?” 

you were teasing him, but he didn’t seem to mind, blinking slowly as he dragged his tongue over the pink swell of his thick lower lip. “want you to touch me…” his voice lowered an octave, deep, lustful eyes looking up at you intensely. 

“where?” 

“everywhere.” he replied without missing a beat. “anywhere. just— just want your hands. or your mouth. i’ll take anything that you give me… but you already know that.” 

you really loved the sound of his voice when he got like this. it was softer than cotton and smoother than silk, rumbling so deep in his chest that you could almost mistake it for purring. it spilled off his lips like the thickest, sweetest honey, so lush and lovely, dripping with shameless desire. something about it was so soothing. and the sounds he made were even better, his guttural groans and melodic moans were nothing short of symphonies. and you were the conductor. 

chuckling, you smirked down at him. “you’re right. i do already know that.” he gasped as you suddenly yanked his belt completely free. “now be a good little bitch and grab onto the headboard.” 

he eagerly complied, capturing his lip between his teeth as he watched you bind his wrists above his head. his eyes slowly dragged over your face, drifting over the length of your neck, following the smooths swells of your chest beneath your black tank top. a low groan slid from his lips as you pressed your hips forward slightly, just barely grinding against his growing erection. his eyes snapped up at the sound of your soft laughter. 

“my eyes are up here, sweetheart.” you hummed, pulling his belt taught before looping it around one of the vertical wooden bars. 

“and beautiful eyes they are.” he grinned up at you in that boyishly charming way, shooting you a playful wink. you scoffed, hands drifting down to rest on his firm chest before one raised to grip his jaw, tilting his head upward. lowering your own head, you allowed your lips to caress teasingly over his. 

“maybe i should gag you, too. keep that pretty mouth in check,” you mused, dragging your thumb slowly over his full lips, “but unfortunately i think i enjoy the sound of your voice almost as much as you do. especially when you're moaning my name. god it’s so hot.” 

you almost growled as he took your finger into his mouth, moaning softly around it. you swooped down, swiftly replacing your finger with your lips. the kiss was deep, rough, and hungry. distracted by your weaponized tongue, he didn’t process that you were unbuttoning his jeans until they were being pushed down his thighs and your hand was gripping his arousal through his thin black boxers. 

“fuck, (y/n),” he groaned deeply into your mouth, arms gently tugging against their restraints. you dragged your lips away from his, face lowering so that you could suck your mark onto the expanse of his neck. he sighed blissfully, hot breath rushing over your ear as he subtly rolled his hips, body temperature rising steadily. you bit down on his collarbone, hands pushing up under his shirt to feel at his toned, well built torso. he was so hard, muscles rigid and protruding, so warm to the touch. 

it was rather amazing. a guy as big as Chanyeol, as strong and as confident, could easily get the upper hand over you if he wanted. he could flip you over and pin you down without so much as breaking a sweat. but he didn’t. he let you pin him down, tie him up, dominate him, mind and body. he allowed himself to submit to you, to be taken by you: slowly, quickly, roughly, gently, he didn’t care, but dammit he enjoyed every second of it. and if that didn’t give you a rush of power, then you don’t know what could. 

goosebumps rose across his honeyed skin as you pushed his shirt up to fully expose his tight body to your ravenous eyes, a chill rolling down his spine when you lowered your mouth to latch onto the smooth swell of his pectoral. he moaned quietly, back arching as you peppered kisses down his abdomen, slowly shifting lower, lower, lower… until your face was level with his bulge. 

a sound of excitement flooded past his lips, his breathing becoming rapid and deep. “really?” he asked hopefully, voice breathless and light. a slow smirk crawled across your lips and you chuckled at the way he jolted with a moan when you pressed a slow kiss to his clothed arousal. 

“really.” you hummed in confirmation. “you said you wanted my mouth, didn’t you?” 

he frantically bobbed his head. “yes. yes, god yes. please.” you almost laughed at his shameless display of desperation. he let out a deep, strained groan as you flicked your tongue over his clothed erection, head falling back. 

“ah ah, eyes on me, baby.” you scolded mildly, squeezing his thighs in warning. he lifted his head without argument, face flushed and glistening with faint perspiration, lip caught in a tight grip between his teeth, brows furrowed. 

from your viewpoint, he looked rather beautiful: arms bound above his head, exposed chest rising and falling dramatically with each deep breath, messy silver hair falling flawlessly over his hooded, lustful eyes. 

and he in turn was also quite taken by how perfect you looked between his legs: smirking lips hovering right over where he needed them most, dark, penetrating gaze making his body tremble with an unspoken need. 

your fingers slipped under the elastic of his boxers, slowly easing them down his thighs until his length sprang free. “there he is,” you murmured, tongue dragging over your lower lip as you admired him, long and thick and swollen, precum spilling over his hot, red tip. he shuddered in delight as you traced your finger over a vein. 

“(y/n)…” his usually deep voice was pleading and airy, hands curling into tight fists above his head, “please.” 

you smiled up at him innocently before delivering a teasing kitten lick to his sensitive tip. he whined softly, hips twitching as his need for you increased tenfold. 

a slightly more sadistic side of you rather enjoyed watching him squirm. perhaps it was that hidden part of you that wanted nothing more than to tease him into oblivion with insubstantial caresses and borderline torturous kisses until he was writhing helplessly and there were tears spilling from those beautiful big brown eyes. 

however, a larger part of you craved the sight of his stunning, fucked out expression. the one where his face glistened with sweat, thick pink lips swollen and red from being ruthlessly and relentlessly attacked by those pearly whites, puppy dog eyes hooded and fluttering, fighting to remain open against his mind's desire to just melt completely into the pleasure coursing like hot lava through his veins. that was the face you wanted to see more than anything. 

a broken moan flooded from his gaping mouth as you fastened your lips around his tip, the taste of his salty precum immediately lathering your tongue. he trembled as you hummed lightly around him, mouth silently forming the words ‘oh god’ as the vibrations sent sparks of pleasure shooting through his body like static shock. 

“feels good, (y/n),” he whined weakly, stomach tensing, “feels so good.” 

your response was to thrust your head down and as much of him into your mouth as possible. he cried out, hips snapping up at the feeling of your gentle sucking. you were quick to pin them back down, a warning glare darkening your gaze. 

“‘m sorry—,” he slurred, panting heavily, “i’m sorry.” he was quick to submit, fighting against the painfully strong urge to fuck himself up into your warm mouth and forcing his quivering body to go pliant beneath your ministrations. satisfied for the time being, you dragged your tongue from his base to his weeping head, tracing slow, taunting circles over his most sensitive place. 

a broken moan was all he could manage as his cock twitched tellingly, precum spilling down his throbbing length. you fixed your lips back around his tip, sucking gently. his thighs trembled at the sensation it sent shooting through his veins, a breathless ‘oh’ pulsing from his pink-bitten lips. 

“(y/n)— (y/n), if you keep doing that—” the warning was clear, but you wanted to see just how close you could bring him to his release before stealing it away last second. it was always fun to watch how hard he came down from his high when he was denied of it. it was delicious, the way he gasped and trembled, shuddering hips desperately seeking out more frictions, but never receiving it. he was so cute when he got like that. 

“you gonna come, baby?” you cooed, replacing your mouth with your hand and shifting upwards so that you could look directly into his eyes. you wanted to be able to see the look in his pretty brown eyes when you stole away his release. he whimpered, head bobbing rapidly as he caught his lower lip between his teeth. 

“please.” 

you only offered a low, contemplative hum before a wicked smirk struck your features. “not yet.” 

a sob broke from his lips as you drew away from his throbbing dick, his high stolen only moments before it could come crashing down over him. his hips bucked, desperately seeking the friction you so cruelly denied him of, but finding nothing but empty air in place of your warm touch. his muscles trembled, broken pleas spilling from his quivering lips. 

“(y-y/n), no— please,” he gasped out, arms tugging against the sturdy binds, fingers aching to touch you, grab onto you, hold you. 

you hushed him with sweet words, pressing a soothing kiss to the cut of his jaw, hands massaging the bulk of his muscular thighs and holding still his stuttering hips. 

“fuck– i hate it when you do that.” he cursed weakly, glassy eyes peering up into yours. 

“no you don’t.” you chuckled softly, brushing his damp bangs out of his face in an unexpectedly tender gesture. 

“you’re right, i don’t.” he relented easily, the corners of his lips curling subtly. 

a sudden silence fell over you, and it took you a moment to realize that he was looking at you with those eyes— the ones you knew all too well. the ones you’d told him plenty of times to drop. because those weren’t the kind of eyes you were supposed to look at a fuck buddy with. those weren’t the kind of eyes that just anybody could be on the receiving end of, most definitely not you. 

“don’t look at me like that.” you warned, hardening your expression. 

“i can’t help it.” he breathed. you felt your stomach twist. damnit. 

“then close ‘em, Park. before I decide to blindfold you, too.” 

it seemed your threat wasn’t very well received, as the smile adorning his features only expanded, the corners of his eyes crinkling endearingly. 

“that doesn’t sound too bad.” 

a dry laugh burst from your lips. “god, you’re so fucking submissive. how has nobody else untangled your little ruse, hm? acting all big and tough on the outside when all you really want is to be tied up and fucked like a horny little bitch. am i really the only one that’s got you figured out?” you hummed thoughtfully, tracing your fingers down his throat and caressing his collarbone. 

“you’re the only one, (y/n).” 

for some reason… you had a strange feeling that that sentence held more meaning than you were willing to decipher.  

“you tell all your little side fucks that?” you taunted, disguising the slight tremor in your chest with a dangerous smirk. 

he shook his head, gaze not wavering for a moment. “there’s no one else. only you.” 

fuck. you needed him to stop talking. so, you did the one thing that always did the trick: shoving your fingers down his throat. he let out a muffled sound of surprise at the unexpected intrusion, a sound that easily melted into a low moan, his tongue immediately getting to work lapping at your digits. 

“you talk too much.” you murmured, taking him off guard and eliciting a low groan from the back of his throat as you ground yourself down on his naked length. “you came to get fucked, didn’t you, sweetheart?” 

he eagerly nodded his head, hips nudging up excitedly against your own. 

“thought so.” you chuckled. 

through wide, glassy eyes, Chanyeol watched you push yourself upright, straddling his thighs. just as he was about to ask what you were doing, you grabbed the hem of your tank top and peeled it off over your head, discarding it onto the floor, your pants fast to follow. 

“fuck. you’re so beautiful.” he groaned deeply, ravenous gaze raking over your nearly naked form. you smirked at him cockily. 

“i know.” 

a surprised laugh erupted from his lips at your blunt reply, eyes glinting with something akin to admiration. “as you should.” 

smiling to yourself, you swiftly climbed back on top of him, not wasting any time before grabbing hold of his throbbing dick. he let out a breath of appreciation at the contact, biting at the inside of his cheek. every muscle in his body tightened as you teasingly traced his tip over your clothed heat, his precum slickening the thin fabric. 

“are you wet?” he asked weakly, voice so airy and strained that you almost missed it. 

grinning devilishly, you toyed with the elastic. “do you wanna find out?” 

“yes,” he all but hissed out, muscular arms straining against their secure restraints, “fuck— yes, please.” 

“mmm, you sound so hot when you're desperate to get fucked.” you groaned softly, nudging your underwear to the side in order to slip his head through your hot arousal. he shuddered at the sensation, his pupils blown wide with lust as he watched you tease not only him but yourself as well with fleeting caresses of his needy length against your burning core. 

“(y/n).” his deep voice had become little more than a breathless whimper singed with molten desire. you felt your pulse jump at the very sound of it, your own want for him swelling with every passing second. 

Chanyeol let out a broken gasp as you sunk down on him, cursing weakly as you took him in inch by inch. a low hum vibrated on your lips at the blissful stretch, hot tendrils of pleasure igniting throughout your body. 

“sometimes i forget just how good you feel inside of me.” you breathed out heavily, peering down at his already fucked out expression with a coy smirk. 

“i could never forget.” he moaned, roughly biting his lower lip. a slow, deep grind of your hips had his head of unruly silver locks tossed back into the plush pillows, an unsteady groan of your name filling the hot, heavy air surrounding you. 

“fuck, go faster.” 

he realized his mistake only when your fingers were pressing into the length of his throat, all motion ceased. “is that how you ask for things?” you asked, voice dangerously calm. 

he was quick to shake his head, eager to right his wrong. “please. please go faster.” 

“that’s better.” 

a rough sob is pulled from his flushed throat (which you’re almost certain will be raw tomorrow morning) as you fuck yourself down onto him. the pace was fast, hungry, rough. his back bowing off the mattress, hips pulsing upward, desperate to meet each thrust half way. 

“(y/n),” you almost moaned at the sight of his body rolling beneath yours, muscles flexed and trembling, toned arms straining against the tight hold of his belt, the leather biting pretty red marks into his wrists, “i wanna touch you— please let me touch you. let me feel you, baby. you know i can make you feel good.”

his begging caused a playful grin to draw itself across your face. “should i?” you murmured thoughtfully, rolling your hips in slow, controlled circles. a low, throaty moan vibrated in your chest as he thrust himself up inside of you, just barely brushing over that perfect little spot. 

“i can be so good for you. please… let me be good for you, (y/n).” 

“well when you say it like that…” you sighed, feeling any remaining resolve come crumbling down. 

excitement ignited in his dark eyes, and he watched with bated breath as you reached up, getting to work on freeing him from the binds. 

the very moment the belt fell slack, releasing his hands, they were on your skin, eager and impatient, tugging you down into a heated kiss. it was messy and rough, all biting teeth and lashing tongues. not that you minded much, it was always fun reminding him who was in charge, one way or another. 

his wandering hands eagerly explored the expanse of your body, squeezing, pressing, pulling. and you let him have his fun, let him push the limits, testing your boundaries with every curious prod and trembling caress. 

it was only when you felt his fingers pressing into the swells of your ass and begin guiding your movements that you drew the line. it took all of a few seconds for you to have his wrists pinned down on either side of his head. 

you pulled away from his lips was a disappointed sigh, tongue clicking. “still no restraint, i see? i’m disappointed. i thought you said you’d be good for me, yeolie? was that good?” he all but whimpered, his head, too muddled from pleasure to form coherent words, shaking remorsefully. “no… that was very bad. bad boy, yeolie.” 

his dick throbbed so hard inside of you that you could’ve sworn he’d almost just come. 

a scoff of both amazement and disbelief escaped your lips. “you like being called a bad boy?” 

how ironic. 

color flushed into his cheeks, embarrassment shining in his big, glassy eyes that were now refusing to meet your gaze. 

“look at me.” 

he gasped as you purposely clenched around him, thrusting your hips back until he was balls deep, successfully forcing his attention onto your face. you grabbed his chin securely between your thumb and forefinger, and lowered your head to the point where your lips were just barely brushing over his. his pupils were blown and trembling as they met yours. 

“you wanna be my bad boy, baby?” 

his jaw fell open, a thunderous moan breaking from his chest. 

“yes.” 

“say it.” you all but growled, tone leaving no room for argument. 

at this point, he was too lost in his own desire to feel any real shame. 

“i wanna be your bad boy.” 

a triumphant smirk curled onto your face, and you rewarded him with a gentle kiss to his quivering lips. “you gonna come for me, bad boy?” he was already bobbing his head frantically before you’d even fully gotten the question out. you chuckled sadistically at his unabashed desperation. “should i let you?” 

“(y/n), please— i don’t think i can— fuck.” he panted out, voice shuddering and breaking as you fucked yourself down on him at just the right pace to keep him teetering dangerously on the edge without completely throwing him over. you bit your lip, pleasure exploding like firecrackers in your veins as he thrusted into you. fuck, if he didn’t stop hitting that spot… 

his hands curled into tight fists where they were pinned to the mattress, dull nails biting smooth crescents into his palm. noticing this, you took it upon yourself to weave your fingers through his, holding his hands in an unexpectedly tender display. only because you didn’t want him to accidentally hurt himself… that was all. 

but, perhaps it was a mistake. 

because that look returned to his eyes with vengeance, his features melting into bursting admiration and unspoken emotion. this time, you ignored it, too gone in your own pleasure to spare it a second thought. that’s what you convinced yourself of, anyways. 

he was pulsing intensely against your slick walls, twitching cock threatening to erupt at any given second. you could tell he was fighting to hold himself back, the veins in his throat growing prominent from the strenuous effort. it was admirable in a way, how desperately he wanted to please you, even if it meant denying himself of the greatest pleasure of all. you’d encountered very few men with that kind of will power. so you couldn’t help but to respect it when you saw it in Chanyeol. 

“you look like you’re about to explode.” you taunted breathlessly, lips pulled into a lust hazed smirk. “it’d be cruel of me to tell you to hold it, wouldn’t it?” 

he whimpered helplessly, obviously not sure which answer would satisfy you and which would coax you into further torturing his already wrecked body. 

you offered a rasping chuckled. “you’re lucky that i’m feeling rather generous today.” 

something between a sob and a moan are thrown past his lips as you slam yourself down on him, purposefully squeezing your walls around him. he cries out your name desperately, imploringly. you know he can’t hold back anymore, no matter how hard he tries. his body was going to come whether he liked it or not. you felt in the way he throbbed and twitched inside of you, heard it in the way he groaned and sighed, saw it in the way his eyes rolled, body shuddering uncontrollably. 

“come.” 

and he fucking did. 

his body stalled, back arching off the bad, hips sputtering up in sharp, quick thrusts, the sound of skin on skin contact resonating through the room. you cooed, relishing in the way he quivered and keener beneath you, mouth gaping silently for a few moments before growling moans finally broke through, rumbling so deep in his chest you could have easily mistaken it for thunder. 

you let him fill you up, painting your walls with his release, knowing damn well your intentions once he was finished. 

“that’s it, baby…” you cooed, releasing one of his clenched fists to caress his feverish face, tracing the lower line of his plump lip, swollen and red from his relentless biting. 

“oh! look at that. you made a mess, sweetheart.” you purred, smirking wickedly as you watched his arousal drip out of you and onto his now half hard cock. he moaned at the sight, cursing under his breath. “I think it’s only right if you clean it up.” 

his eyes snapped up to meet yours, excitement immediately burning with his hazy, blown pupils. that was your boy… always eager to clean up after himself. especially if it meant he could put his tongue and lips to proper use. 

“fuck. ride my face. wanna taste you. wanna make you come.” he groaned breathlessly, freed hands reaching down to grip at your thighs, tugging at them impatiently. 

you chuckled at how eager he was, happily obliging. you climbed up, repositioning yourself to hover over his flushed face, caging his head between your thighs. his fingers pressed into your hips, pulling you down and into reach of his greedy tongue. you couldn’t help the sigh that slid from your lips at the first contact, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his tongue dragging hungrily through your come soaked folds. 

“that’s right. eat your come, baby. lick it up.” you breathed out heavily, fingers weaving through his damp silver locks. 

he moaned against you, the vibrations sending chills rolling down your spine. it was like white hot electricity in your veins when he rolled his flattened tongue cover your clit, a sharp moan erupting from your throat. 

“fuck, just like that. right there.” you panted, hips grinding down against his skilled tongue. “you’re so fucking good with your mouth, yeol.” his determination spiked at the praise, lips encircling your clit and sucking purposefully. 

pure euphoria rushed through your veins, head falling back as your grip on his hair tightened. his rapacious hands danced across your body, fingers pressing hotly into your skin, obviously not having learned his lesson the first time around. though, you weren’t too keen on correcting him. especially not with the fire his touch was igniting across your body. 

your hips stuttered as his tongue pressed inside of you, lapping at you hungrily. “tastes… so good…” he groaned brokenly against your arousal, hooded eyes devouring the sight of you falling apart above him. 

if there was one thing Park Chanyeol loved– it was being the cause of your pleasure. 

snagging your lip roughly between your teeth, you meet his searing gaze, your walls clenching around his invading tongue at the almost unbearable intensity of it. 

“you like it?” you moaned, feeling yourself begin to climb your way towards release. he nuzzled against you, nose pressing against your clit as his tongue teased your entrance. 

god… if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was trying to suffocate himself. knowing Chanyeol, he’d probably consider it the perfect way to go. perhaps you would have laughed at the thought had it not been for the molten pleasure numbing your mind and senses.

“i’m gonna come.” 

at your breathless declaration, Chanyeol is quickly replacing his tongue with two of his fingers, fucking them up into you steadily while his mouth gets to work on your clit. it feels so good… you’re numb to pretty much everything else but the feeling of him, the sight of him. 

and you find it’s just that that finally sends you tumbling over that ledge: the sight of those beautiful brown eyes, dark and eager, burning with unspoken emotion, pooling with crimson seduction. he’s breathtaking. 

you shift off of his face carefully, a hazy, satisfied smirk settling across your face. 

“what a filthy boy.” you purr softly, more so to yourself than him, delighting in the sight of his face, glistening from a mixture of both his and your own release. his lips curl upwards at the corners, sinful tongue peeking out to drag over them and savor the lingering taste of you, a low hum of appreciation rumbling deep in his chest.  

his hands don’t leave your hips as you carefully lift yourself off of him, offering some much needed support for your still shaky legs. you flop down on the mattress beside him with a soft ‘oof’ and shut your eyes, taking a moment to catch your breath and gather your scattered wits. a few moments of silence pass, before your brow twitched in irritation. 

“stop staring before i smack you.” even with your eyes closed, you can feel the heat of his gaze on the side of your face. 

he chuckled unabashedly, not all too torn up about being caught. “sorry. i can’t help myself,” he paused, “you’re just so beautiful like this.” 

sighing, you roll your head to the side, eyes fluttering open to meet his. “what’d i say about calling me beautiful?”  

he pouts, looking like a scolded puppy. “not to say it after sex.” 

“that’s right.”

“but it’s the truth!” 

“Chanyeol.” you groan, throwing an arm over your face. 

he huffs in annoyance rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his palm. “what’s so wrong with me saying that you're beautiful?” 

“you know exactly what’s wrong with it.” you grumble, shooting him a pointed glare, one he is quick to return. rolling your eyes, you turn away from him. “i’m too fucked out to try and argue with you right now so can you just drop it?”  

one of his arms snakes over your waist, and you inhaled sharply in surprise as he tugged you into his chest. 

“Chanyeol—”

he was quick to disregard your warning tone, nuzzling his face into your neck. “i like to cuddle.” 

“you know—” you began, scowling as he cut you off a second time. 

“i know what we agreed to but come on… a few minutes won’t kill you.” he grumbled, low voice raspy with exhaustion. 

the slight tightening of his hold around you told you that he had no intention of letting go any time soon. your features twisted into a scowl, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling. 

but your resolve to remain unphased wavered. 

because, for a moment, you let yourself feel the warmth of his body against yours, allowing yourself to melt into it. it was a strange sensation, the comfort it brought you… the security. perhaps it was the aftermath of your orgasm. or maybe the exhaustion from a stressful week. or maybe something else entirely… regardless, you found yourself relaxing into him, into his hold, into his warmth. it wasn’t something you could really control. and even if you could, you weren’t sure if you would do anything different. 

minutes passed. maybe two. maybe five. maybe twenty. you weren’t really sure. you could hear the muffled music still pumping through the speakers somewhere downstairs. dull footsteps and low voices passing outside the door every now and again. the soft glow from the still candle flickered soothingly over the pale walls. 

a strange sense of calm had settled over you at some point. you weren’t sure quite when. all you knew was that if you listened hard enough, you could almost hear the steady beating of Chanyeol’s heart. his breathing had become slow and heavy, warming the side of your face with every exhale. 

“are you…” you swallowed, throat unexpectedly dry, “are you asleep?” 

you were met with silence. 

sucking your lips into your mouth, you slowly turned your head. your heart faltered in your chest. “geez.” you muttered softly, a faint smile touching your lips. 

he was knocked out cold, cheek smooshed up against the pillow, lips parted and puckered out, hair cast across the white pillowcase, a few locks stuck on his eyelashes. you lifted your hand carefully, gently brushing the silver strands out of his face. your fingers lingered on his skin, caressing ever so lightly over his cheek and jaw. 

“beautiful.” 

it took you a moment to realize that that word had just come from your lips. you jerked away like you’d been stung, eyes wide, and heart suddenly racing. 

shit. 

you were so fucked.

#chanyeol #park chanyeol #exo chanyeol #chanyeol smut #chanyeol oneshot #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol imagine #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol fluff #sub!chanyeol #sub!exo #sub!idol #dom!reader #exo smut #exo imagine #exo scenario #chanyeol angst #sub chanyeol #sub exo #perhaps i went a bit overboard... oops #i just love him lots