#//Thinks it’s a nice touch (her brand of possessiveness speaking)

[oceanxveiined]

On one hand, I love her being a human-allogene in her Genshin verse, bc it is essential for her story as a whole, esp with the sorts of folks she is surrounded by/dealing with

On the other, I miss verses like her original/bnha ones where she has blue blood

[suspicious-whumping-egg]

A lot of those (control/manipulation starters) would be PERFECT coming from Raina's lips. Can I request more than one? "I'll talk slowly so you can understand. Do you need me to use smaller words, too?" and "Do you think anyone else would treat you as good as I do?" would go soooo nicely together with her. Also, please add me to the tag list if I haven't asked already? I love them 😅

I added you to the taglist as soon as I got the ask!!! Here’s part five of Alec and Raina!! Tws for intimate/possessive/controlling whumper, humiliation, dehumanization, past torture, past hand whump, and broken bones.

Masterlist here.

“Do you think anyone else would treat you as good as I do?” Raina cooed as she combed her fingers through Alec’s long hair and separated it into neat sections.

Alec narrowed his eyes. Raina sat behind him in a plushy armchair while he sat on the floor, and couldn’t see his expressions.

After stabbing a nail through my hand and whipping my feet til I can’t walk? Anyone could fucking do better, the bar is halfway through hell. But he simply shook his head politely. He couldn't risk the pain that would come with speaking his mind.

But apparently he was a bad liar, because Raina let out a disapproving tsk and pulled his hair ever so slightly. “Love, if I sent you to one of my friends for a week, you’d learn how kind I’m being,” she said coolly. “Most of them would break your legs after an escape attempt, or maybe cut your tendons. I gave you wounds that will last for a few weeks at most. How does that make you feel?”

Alec flinched just at the thought of his tendons being severed, the movement causing a sharp tug to his hair as he shuddered away from his captor. Raina wrapped a hand around his neck, pulling him backwards like he was a dog on a leash, so he sat against her legs once more. He wasn’t getting away that easily.

“I… uh…” Alec sighed, squirming ever so slightly at the touch without truly struggling. Although he was relieved he hadn’t yet been seriously injured, he owed her no gratitude—she’d been the one to kidnap him in the first place! But he knew what Raina wanted to hear, and that she’d hurt him if he didn’t say what she wished. “Thank you,” he inevitably muttered, his face flushing red.

Raina leaned down and pressed a kiss to his head, beginning to braid his hair back tight. “You’re welcome, love,” she said with a pleased grin. Molding him would be easier than she’d expected. He was already bending to her demands, telling her what she wanted him to say. All too soon, he’d be saying those things because he truly believed them.

Alec closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of fingers in his hair, pulling and twisting in a rhythmic pattern. For just a minute, he could almost forget that it was a captor doing his hair, rather than a lover. That is, until Raina tied the french braid off with a tiny elastic and reached down to take his wounded hand in hers, turning it so the brand was visible.

“It seems that it’ll heal nicely,” she mused, tracing a finger over the thin letters. “That’s good for you… If it was fucked up, I’d be trying again on your other hand.”

Alec resisted the urge to jerk his hand away, forcing himself still as Raina touched the fresh, throbbing burns. Agony shot up his hand and he let out a sharp hiss; his fingers closed around her other palm to prevent himself from snatching his hand back and cradling it against his chest.

Raina gave her captive a sweet, pleased smile. If his reaction was to hold onto her instead of pulling away, she was doing something right.

“Stay right here, now,” she said, bringing his hand to her lips and kissing the brand. “I’ll be back in a few.”

Alec resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He obviously wasn’t going anywhere, Raina had seen how he’d collapsed just from standing earlier. Or maybe she was just taunting him. He let out an annoyed hush when his captor was out of earshot and shifted to sit more comfortably on the hard floor.

But unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to relax before Raina was back with a pile of clothes in her arms.

“I’ve decided to do a little photoshoot,” she declared as she set the pile on top of the armchair. She plucked an outfit out of it— a pair of red leather pants and a cropped, powder blue turtleneck— and shoved it into Alec’s arms. “Get changed while I set up the camera,” she ordered him as she strode off to the basement.

Getting dressed was a terribly slow process when he was unable to stand up. The pants were wickedly tight, which didn’t help the process, and it took him what felt like forever just to get them pulled over his hips. The turtleneck went on next, a tiny piece of fabric that barely even covered his chest. Alec could see the glint of a mirror hanging from a wall around twenty feet away, but he didn’t want to see his reflection— and it wasn’t worth the effort anyway. He instead crawled over to the basement’s entrance before Raina could witness his struggle and dangled his feet over the top of the staircase. Just when he was beginning to suspect he was supposed to slide down the concrete steps, Raina reappeared, her smile eerily large.

“Aww, you look lovely,” she cooed. His face was flaming, which she’d been hoping for— the embarrassment looked great on him. It added just the right touch of helplessness to her already helpless captive. “Do you need some help with the stairs?” she asked, just the tiniest bit mocking.

Alec glanced away, his face flaming. He wouldn’t be comfortable wearing anything this revealing in public, let alone in front of a kidnapper. He’d rather melt into the floor and disappear for good. The humiliation was only made worse by the fact that he couldn’t even walk down some stairs by himself; but he nodded defeatedly. He’d caught on that she was taunting him, but he was too tired to care. There was no use causing himself extra pain.

Raina scooped her captive into her arms with a smug grin. “Good boy,” she praised teasingly. She felt Alec tense in her grip but he didn’t struggle or object, his clenched jaw and shaking hands made it evident that he was too terrified to do so.

When she carried him into a studio-like room, full of bright lights and with sets of chains dangling along the ceiling, wall, and floors; Alec let out a gasp and squirmed against her vice grip, desperate to get free even though he couldn’t run.

And rather than bothering to keep hold of him while he struggled, Raina was content to drop him on the concrete.

Alec fell with a harsh thunk, letting out a weak cry as blunt pain shot up his body. Thankfully, he’d tucked his chin on instinct and his head remained unharmed. But the rest of him wasn’t as lucky.

“Little shit,” Raina hissed contentedly as she pulled a strip of red leather out of her pocket. Alec noticed it matched the pants— a bracelet? But as she approached him, a cold shudder ran down his spine as he realized it was a collar.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” he snapped, scrambling backwards from her before logic kicked in. “Don’t you fucking put that thing on me!”

To Alec’s surprise, Raina lowered her hand and stepped away. “Alec, hon, I don’t think you understand the gravity of this situation.” She turned to the wall, one that was lined with weapons just like any of the other cells, and pulled a thick crowbar from its rack. Her captive was enough of a handful without the ability to walk, she didn’t need him regaining that in just a few days. "I'll talk slowly so you can understand. Do you need me to use smaller words, too?”

Alec shook his head, his eyes widening. “I- no- uh-” he stammered, making a useless effort to get his feet under him and stand. Pain flashed through the cuts at the weak attempt, stabbing up his legs. His feet continued to throb even after he’d collapsed.

Raina tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and waited patiently for him to fall silent, twirling the crowbar like it weighed as little as a baton. “Here’s the deal, love,” she said sweetly. “You’re mine. You don’t tell me what to do to my own property, alright? And every time you try to tell me otherwise, the reminders are going to get a little… more intense. To make sure you get the message.”

She stepped closer once again and crouched down, taking hold of Alec’s left leg and stretching it out so it was flat against the floor. “I was planning on just doing a nice little photoshoot today in all the clothes I got you,” she sighed. “But you force me to be so hard on you… why? Do you like seeing me suffer? Are you such a sick little masochist that you want to be punished more than you can bear? Alec, I know your limits. No one enjoys a broken bone.”

She raised the crowbar high, and Alec strained against the grip she had tight on his shoulder. “Please, please no- I’ll- I’ll be good-” he stammered weakly, squirming and struggling against her hold. But days of starvation had left him weak, and he couldn’t do anything but let out a pathetic whimper before the heavy metal cracked down on his leg.

Excruciating, white hot pain flashed through his vision, more than he could comprehend, as the bone snapped. A scream tore through his lips before he even knew it was his own, and the shriek tapered into hysterical sobbing. Raina said something, but he couldn’t understand, not through the agony pulsing through his leg and the nausea roiling in his stomach.

“Alec!” Raina snapped, and this time the word cut through his haze of torment. But his vision was already tunneling to black, and unconsciousness took him before he could respond.

Tagging: @painsandconfusion @hopepetal (if you wanna be tagged lemme know!)

[slasherhaven]

All slashers reaction to their s/o being a stripper or pole dancer? That line of work is so stigmatized I feel they'd all be weirded out but when they see the fuckin CASH, the hundreds their s/o would make in ONE NIGHT damn

The Slashers Reactions to Their S/O being a Stripper:

Thomas Hewitt 

Thomas is...torn.

The Hewitts are a pretty conservative, stuck in the ways, kinda people. Thomas being the most open to difference out of all of them.

He loves you but all he knows about the job is the stigma behind it. 

But he’s not going to leave you because of it, please explain it to him.

With some explanation, debunking some stigmas and stereotypes, explaining that it is just your job, he comes around to it. 

Alright, you’re still you and you’re loyal to him. That’s all that matters. He’s sorry for judging you at first...

Luda May is unsure about it, worried that you’re not as dedicated to Tommy as you say you are. Just prove her wrong. You love that man and that has nothing to do with your job.

Hoyt has definitely made a comment or two about it, always receiving a warning glare from Thomas. Don’t worry, he’ll defend you!

Luda May starts to come around to it because it’s so obvious that you only have an interested in Thomas...plus the money doesn’t hurt. That’s more cash than they’ve seen in a long time...you could be an actual godsend.

Michael Myers

Does not care what you do for a living.

Is a little unsure about how he feels about other people getting to see you in a state of undress but comes around to the idea more when you explain that they aren’t allowed to touch you.

Good, because that’s just for him!

Michael doesn’t care all that much about money but he’s still impressed by how much you can make in one night alone.

Other than that? Pretty unbothered.

Does enjoy your private dances though, he cannot deny that.

And you know when he’ll want one because you’ll go into your bedroom and find his selected outfit laying on the bed for you.

Jason Voorhees 

You do...what for a living? 

Jason is definitely going to have some issues with it.

We all know how he feels about anything sexual. It’s something he’s uncomfortable with and views as inherently wrong.

But he does love you...

And you’re nothing like he would expect somebody in that line of work to be.

He probably has a lot of preconceived notions about your work that you need to work through.

Just be patient with him, help him see that there is nothing wrong with what you do or the people who do it.

He’ll get there eventually because he loves you, it’s just going to take a while.

Brahms Heelshire

Uh-huh...uh-huh...no, yeah he’s listening- do you have the attire at home or do you have to keep it at the establishment. No, no, he understands. Can he see what you wear while you work? He is taking this seriously, Y/n!

Admittedly Brahms is going to take an issue with it. 

Not with the job itself. Just his own jealousy.

You’re meant to be with him and he doesn’t like the idea of other people getting to see you like that.

But they can’t touch you? Well...that’s good...you mean they can look but can’t touch? Only he gets to touch you?

Okay, you’re winning him over.

Give him his own private dance and he’s sold.

Bo Sinclair

Will probably look down on the choice of job before you tell him what you do for  a living. Then he’ll be forced to reconsider his preconceived beliefs. 

Bo tends to look down on everyone for one reason or another, he supposes strippers were easy targets to do so.

But the more he thinks about it, the less it actually bothers him.

He really doesn’t mind if he gets his own private dances.

Plus that money is very convincing. It’s not like the brothers have any real income and it can be difficult to keep a good stock of supplies. With you around, that shouldn’t be a problem anymore.

Will pick out your outfit for that shift.

Sometimes it’s just because he wants to see you were a particular set, other times he just likes the idea of you dancing in the outfit he chose.

Kind of like a reminder to the two of you that you might be dancing for those people but you are his, and you come home to him at the end of the day.

Vincent Sinclair

Any negative thoughts Vincent has is more due to jealousy and insecurity rather than how he thinks of you.

He sees you as a person, not as your job. So he won’t judge. He really doesn’t think he has any right to judge considering his ‘work’.

He loves you and doesn’t care what you do. 

Sometimes he just wonders why you would want...him...

Just lots of reassurance, cuddles, and kisses should get him feeling better again!

Honestly just likes watching you dance. Not even in a sexual way (though he can’t help how his body reacts to your seductive movements) just in admiration and adoration.

You’re stunning and the way you move is hypnotising.

He can see why you get paid so well!

He doesn’t care about the money all that much. It’s Bo that takes advantage of that.

Will likely have various sketches of you wearing your different outfits that you wear for work. You like to ask for his opinion on them and he’s happy to give you an enthusiastic thumbs up and nod of the head.

Lester Sinclair 

Is honestly just happy that you’re with him.

You’re a stripper, you dance for people who would kill to be with you or even touch you, and yet you come home to him.

That’s fine by him!

Might get a little insecure about it but is super easy to cheer up.

Usually Lester just ignores Bo’s comment but if he says anything about your work (probably just to annoy either of you, he doesn’t really care) your man will defend you!

May actually be addicted to your private dances, the ones that he knows are just for him.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba is never going to judge you for your work, even if it’s something he doesn’t completely understand or is stigmatised. He knows you’re a good, wonderful person who he loves dearly. And you love him back! That’s all that matters to him.

The only problem might be his own insecurities but you can tell when it’s bothering him and are quick to put things right. Showing him plenty of love to remind him that he is the only man for you.

Will sometimes pick out an outfit for you to wear for your next shift. He wasn’t to be supportive!

Loves when you buy new stuff and decide to put on a little bit of a show to show him them, asking for his opinion. He loves them all!

Is always a little flustered afterward so give that boy some love!

He doesn’t care about the money but the rest of the family (mostly Drayton) try to leech off of it. You’re family now, your money is their money. Sharing and all that!

Billy Lenz

Isn’t too sure how he feels about this news...

But put on the brand new set you got for work, give him his own little private dance, dedicate the night to him and he’ll be okay with it.

As long as you don’t give your customers the same treatment, you’re perfectly fine!

Will help you pick out your set for your next shift but don’t expect him to not get handsy. He can’t help himself!

Money isn’t something Billy cares about. It’s not like he goes shopping or anything. But at least you can buy quality things for him to borrow without asking sooooooo...

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Admittedly, Asa is not a fan.

It’s not that he’s judging you or looking down on you for what you do. Looking down on somebody for that alone is nonsensical, there are worse things you could do. He should know.

However, dating a stripper wasn’t something he had seen for himself.

He’s a possessive man so he doesn’t like the idea of somebody eying up his partner at all, especially if he isn’t there.

But one night he visits the club, sits right in front of the stage and you focus all your attention on him.

He admits that you’re mesmerising to watch, maybe he should look into getting you a new outfit. Perhaps a more lacy number?

He’s never going to be a fan of your career choice and will likely try to convince you to quit, telling you that you don’t even need to work. He can support you both.

But all those private dances definitely sweeten the deal for him.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull)

Strippers don’t usually capture Jesse’s attention for too long and he wouldn’t purposely go to a club for the reason of seeing them but sometimes his work takes him to places like this.

You likely worked in a more high end establishment, more wealthy patrons.

Either way, something about you just got his attention. The way you moved or maybe it was the way you looked at him, the bat of your lashes or the smile on your lips. But you drew him in.

Sure daddy Chromeskull!!

Would likely pay for a private dance and when he finds himself even more enthralled with you, he would make you another offer. Paying you for more than just dances, come home with him, not even for sex (though that is very much on the table), just come to his home and look pretty, that’s all he’s paying you for if that’s all you want to do.

If you’re reluctant to accept the generous offer, he will win you over with generous tips and gifts. New lingerie, jewellery, fragrances. He’s determined and convincing, you have to give him that.

If you’re only stripping for the cash, you’re likely going to stop doing it all together. Jesse is paying you more than you ever earned at that place. Plus it’s a really nice house, you’re living in luxury. 

Otis Driftwood 

It’s likely how you met in the first place. He visited the club you were dancing in and you both just hit it off.

It doesn’t bother him at all.

Will kill anyone who speak bad about your work and will kill anyone who touches you when that is clearly against the rules.

He likes visiting you while you’re working. ‘Paying’ for a private dance that always turns into more.

He actually likes watching the other patrons watching you, knowing that they didn’t even have a chance. You only had eyes for him and he knew it, so their stares didn’t bother him.

Especially when he was there to take you home after your shift, getting to rub it in everyone’s faces as he pulls you into a kiss before escorting you out of the club.

He’s very proud to show you off at all times.

Baby Firefly

Probably met you in the club. Probably shamelessly flirted with you while you were on the job. And, well, you couldn’t help but give her a discount.

Doesn’t care about your work in the slightest.

But will happily help you spend that pay check!

You pole dance? Show her! Teach her! It’s a fun date idea!

She’s not great, too impatient to get any real technique, but she’s having fun and that’s the point!

Loves for you to do little fashion shows in your new work outfits. Even offers to do your hair and makeup for you before a shift!

Baby is super proud of what you do and the money you make. She has absolutely no problem with having other people know what you do for a job. And anyone has anything bad to say about it? Well, they’re just her next target!

Yautja (Predator)

He’s going to need an explanation.

Okay. So what he’s hearing is that you dance for money in various stages of undress?

Not a problem!

Yautja don’t have the same sense of prudishness or nudity that some humans seem too.

But he’s still a little possessive of his little mate. So as long as these customers aren’t touching you or think they have any right too, he’s okay with it.

You do it for good pay, to support yourself, there’s no shame in that at all.

Your explanation might need a little demonstration. Give your alien mate a private dance just for how accepting and understanding his is! It’s his reward!

Turns out, he’s a big fan of your dancing.

[jackrrabbit]

If I may I just want Overhaul to do me on his desk during a meeting showing the precepts his personal slut

Yubitsume /// Overhaul x f!reader (18+)

Yubitsume: a Japanese ritual primarily performed by the yakuza to atone for offenses to another; a way to be punished or to show sincere apology and remorse.

This story takes place before Chisaki becomes the leader of the Shie Hassaikai and before he puts the big boss in a coma. ngl this was fun to write 😎

Tags/warnings: exhibitionism, coercion (dubcon-ish?), mild humiliation, yakuza members be perving, reader’s quirk makes it impossible for her skin to be cut (it’s relevant I promise), references to violence, some light possessiveness at the end there

You’re softer than you look.

Chisaki’s never really touched you before, so he had no way of knowing until now. Maybe it’s a subconscious association with your quirk, which prevents anything from breaking your skin, but he didn’t think you’d be so yielding. Every bit of you that he can touch is tender and unresisting under his grasp. He almost wants to take off his latex gloves so he can grip your hips and feel how smooth you are against his bare skin.

Ah…but this isn’t for his sake. It’s for yours. Your punishment, your atonement. He’s supposed to be teaching you a lesson, not feeling good. The irresistible heat of your cunt hugging over his cock is just a perk.

“Watch closely, men,” the Boss’s voice rings out across the long, narrow table, cutting across the wet sounds of Chisaki’s flesh slapping against yours. His thrusts slow and then stop with his cock buried deep inside you, giving the Boss a chance to speak over the two of you.

When the room is silent save for the sounds of your breath mixing with Chisaki’s, the Boss speaks again. “This is what happens to those who betray the interests of the Shie Hassaikai. Keep going, Chisaki.”

It’s not like he needs to tell them to watch, Chisaki thinks as he picks up the pace again. Every man in the room is staring intently at the coupling as Chisaki fucks you over the desk. You’re bent forward with your ass sticking out toward him, one trembling leg holding you up while the other is folded up on the wooden surface, angling your pussy into a perfect position for him to thrust into. You’re barely holding your face off the desk with your elbows propped up, and every time Chisaki pushes his cock back into you, you rock forward and the desk creaks under your combined weight.

It’s hardly the solemn atmosphere that’s usually considered necessary for this kind of punishment. The men watching are doing so with lascivious interest, some laughing, some making comments under their breath to each other, and some just staring. He can hardly blame them. The view from the front must be incredible—your tits bouncing, your hands holding onto the edge of the desk for dear life…

What does your face look like right now? Chisaki can’t see when he’s fucking you from the back, but he wishes he could. Are you ducking to hide your lewd expression from the men you’ve worked alongside since you joined the Shie Hassaikai? Are you biting your lip to hold back the sound of your moaning, trying to salvage the little bit of dignity you have left? From the muted noises of your voice (the little uh—uh—uh’s you can’t quite keep from slipping out), he thinks it’s pretty likely.

But if it’s between seeing you and being inside you, Chisaki knows he’s getting the better deal. Fuck, it’s like your throbbing cunt just keeps sucking him in deeper and deeper. What with the heat of your body and the slickness lubing him up in between your pussy lips, it’s getting difficult to hold back his own grunts of pleasure. His thrusts are getting less controlled and sloppier every time he pumps into you.

The men are watching…they’re watching you, Chisaki has to remind himself in order to stop the urge to lean lower over the desk and rut you for all he’s worth, observers be damned. How much deeper can you take it? Probably a little more than this, right?

His next thrust has him bumping up against your cervix, forcing a kittenish whine out of you. A couple of the voyeurs laugh. One wolf whistles. Chisaki’s noticed that the hairs on the back of your neck raise up when the men get loud, and right now your skin is pebbled with goosebumps.

“Don’t let her hide from her shame, Chisaki. Hold her up so we can see.”

Chisaki hesitates, then curls his fingers over your upper arm and drags your torso up off the desk to display your naked chest to the boss and the rest of the Shie Hassaikai. Your head lolls forward and then rolls back onto his shoulder, your damp back flush against the fabric of his shirt.

The position is a little more awkward, and he has to tilt his hips to the side a little to push back into you. On the other hand, it seems like he’s hitting your g-spot at a better angle judging by the way your pussy is twitching around his length.

“Ch…Chisaki,” you whimper, only to wince and snap your eyes shut when the name earns a suggestive whoop from one of the men watching you.

“Aw baby, you gonna beg him?” Rappa asks, voice a mocking growl. You flinch and Chisaki can feel how tense you are. The muscles in your arms go rigid as you try to jerk out of his grip.

Another thrust has you squeaking out a high-pitched moan. “Fuck yeah, make ‘er scream,” someone calls out, but Chisaki ignores it in favor of rocking deeper into you, careful to slide his thick cockhead against your g-spot. This time you’re barely able to keep your voice down, but you can’t conceal the muscles in your pussy pulsating over him.

It feels good, doesn’t it? he wants to ask you, but he knows he can’t. It’s not supposed to feel good for you. You’re supposed to be…reflecting on your mistake or something. When he’s balls deep in your pussy, it’s hard to keep track of what kind of atonement this is supposed to be.

“I see you’re once again capable of speech, (Y/N),” the Boss says, silencing the other Shie Hassaikai members. This time, however, Chisaki can’t bring himself to stop fucking you long enough to let his benefactor speak uninterrupted. The Boss doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he continues— “Enlighten us as to why we’re watching Chisaki bed you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Chisaki can see your chin tip forward so you’re looking hesitantly at the Boss. Your face is so red, but you manage to form words despite your embarrassment. “P-P-Punishment… Instead of y-yubitsume, I’m being—being punished…”

Yubitsume. The yakuza ritual of cutting off one’s own pinky finger at the first knuckle to make recompense for an insult or injury committed against the organization, a mutilation that not only increases difficulty of combat and manual labor but also brands the afflicted with a public stigma. By tradition, yubitsume is the appropriate penalty for the crime you perpetrated, but your quirk makes it impossible. No blade can pierce your skin.

This—getting fucked by Chisaki while the Shie Hassaikai watches—was suggested as a substitute method of apology. There were other alternatives, other ways to exact retribution on your body (you may not bleed, but you can certainly bruise…and break). This method was almost a kindness, or at least that’s how the Boss had explained it to you until you reluctantly agreed.

Still, as the men who used to see you as a fellow (an equal, even) now jeer at you and call for Chisaki to fuck that little slut harder, he has to wonder whether this is really the kinder option.

“And what are you being punished for?” the Boss asks.

“I-I did something wrong—uhn!” You snatch a betrayed glance at Chisaki as his arm snakes around so he can grope at your breast and pinch your nipple between two fingers. “I—! Brought p-police, to the Shie Hassaikai…”

Chisaki knows better than the rest of them how minor your crime was. The transgression had nothing to do with them, and it would have happily gone unpunished had you not been caught by the authorities. The yakuza might care little about petty lawbreaking, but your real offense had been attracting the attention of the cops. They’d been lucky to get away without a thorough inspection. Now you’re paying the price for your carelessness.

“Good. As all of you know, I have no wish to treat (Y/N) too harshly. Chisaki…finish her off.”

There it is. This may be your atonement, but Chisaki’s aware that he’s being punished as well. He’s the one who brought you to the organization, and so your wrongdoing is partially his responsibility. The Boss knows how much Chisaki would usually hate this…having to touch someone’s bare flesh so intimately and so publicly. He’s getting hives just thinking about being in this position with someone else.

But it’s not someone else. It’s you. You with your untouchable skin, so clean and soft. You with your tight, hot pussy swallowing every inch of his cock so nicely. For the first time since he can remember, he half-wishes he were wearing less clothing just so he could feel you…and every second he’s inside you he regrets putting on a condom more.

And now he’s got the Boss’s blessing to make you cum on his cock. Chisaki’s hand drops from your breast down to your pussy and his index finger swirls around your clit. You gasp and cry out (much to the appreciation of the men watching), and Chisaki has to bite down on a growl of his own as your innards clamp down on him.

You’re probably close to cumming already. No, no, you’re definitely close. Even with no direct stimulation to your clit until now, Chisaki’s been fucking you for ages. All that friction over your g-spot has taken you right up to your edge, and it’s not going to take much more to push you over.

You’re already pulsing around him intermittently in rhythm with the pads of his fingers teasing your clit. The pressure of your pussy fluttering around every ridge and vein on his cock is excruciating, so fucking good that he can barely remember that the two of you are being watched. The other gang members are getting louder in their bawdy commentary of the pornographic scene playing out in front of them, but Chisaki tunes it out in favor of focusing on the way your shallow breaths meet the tempo of his thrusts.

With you draped over his chest, he barely has to adjust his position to push his masked face into the juncture of your neck and shoulder so he can nuzzle up and lick you through the stiff fabric. You shudder—ugh, do that again, he thinks—and your hips writhe weakly, trying to increase the stimulation of his hand on your clit. You’re about to cum, and so is Chisaki, but he carefully steers his hips to control both your reactions and his. When he pulls out of you he’s slow, tender, making sure you feel empty without him, but when he pushes back in he does it in a quick snap that stretches you out paired with a rough dab at your clit.

You’re coming apart in front of him, not even bothering to be quiet anymore. “Chisaki…Chisaki, I—I’m cumming!” you cry out, trying not to pay attention to all of the Shie Hassaikai egging you on and telling you what a good little whore you are. Your orgasm has your pussy sucking down on Chisaki’s cock, even tighter than before, like your body is instinctively trying to milk the cum out of him.

Goddamnit… Yeah, he’s not going to last for another minute with you clamping down on him like that. As soon as Chisaki’s sure you’re cumming so hard you’re barely coherent, he drops you gracelessly back down onto the desk so he can grab up your hips and fuck his last few pumps into you as savagely as possible. His fingers dig into your ass deeply enough that he’d be drawing blood if not for your quirk, and when the heat building in his cock spills over he holds you perfectly still despite your attempts to squirm away from him so that you feel him jerk and cum between your throbbing walls.

“(Y/N)…good, good girl,” he pants out as he gives a couple more shallow thrusts for good measure. Well, huh. That’s the first thing he’s said since he started fucking you.

When it’s too uncomfortable to stay inside for a second longer, Chisaki pulls out and tugs the filthy condom off, ties it, and drops it in the trash. He needs a shower…and something to wipe off on, but at the moment neither are available to him so he has to tuck himself back into his pants without cleaning up. Disgusting. Even though it’s just his own cum dirtying him, his skin is still crawling at the thought of it.

“Good work, Chisaki,” says the Boss, rising to his feet to leave. “You can clean up after her.”

Emboldened past their usual limits by what they just witnessed, the other men guffaw and taunt you as they follow the Boss out. Setsuno reaches out to slap your ass as he exits, but Chisaki stops him with a hand on his wrist. His hold isn’t painful, but the threat is clear.

If you touch her, you’re going to lose more than a pinky.

“R-Relax, Chisaki,” Setsuno stammers. “Hands off. I get it.”

Chisaki almost corrects him, almost tells Setsuno to call him by the right name—Overhaul. But the Boss isn’t quite out of earshot yet, and it wouldn’t do for him to hear. So he just lets Setsuno go. The rest of the men give the two of you a wide berth as they file out, although your pert little ass still gets a few lecherous glances as they leave.

And then it’s just you and him. You roll over onto your back and sit up on the desk. “…Chisaki? You don’t have to clean up, I’ll do it.”

How docile of you. You really are apologetic. To be honest, Chisaki should still be angry—you almost caused a lot of trouble for the Shie Hassaikai, and what with the plans he has in mind, getting the authorities to look a little closer at them could ruin everything. He shouldn’t be keeping a risk like you around, especially considering the Boss doesn’t usually let him play with you the way he’d like to.

But the Boss isn’t going to be the one making decisions for much longer. And until he’s out of the picture, Chisaki can’t wait for you to slip up again.

[spiderlilyserendipity]

omg violet you write so well!! if you can, could you write a taehyung nsfw of while on vacation, tae's girlfriend wakes him up early with kisses and promises to do "whatever he wants" if he gets up with her and explores the city and tae holds her to that promise when they get back to their hotel starting with some steamy (private) hot tub sex?

Anon, you are awesome but you have ruined my brain. I got so carried away writing this fic, it is double the size I thought it would be. Many thoughts, head full typa situation. Thank you. This one is titled Only One. Enjoy <3

WC: 4475

Genres: Smut, fluff, angst

Tags: established relationship, anniversary dinners, tae x oc take a trip to Paris

Warnings: dom/sub relationship, dom!taehyung, sub!reader, sir kink, punishment, praise kink, use of the word slut once, colour system as a safeword, insecurity, possessiveness, possessive sex, aftercare, taehyung is very 🥵🥵🥵 in this one y’all

(*Cis female reader*)

“Y/N, Y/N, should we take a picture over there?” Taehyung asks, batting his eyes cutely.

You smile but roll your eyes at Taehyung’s enthusiasm.

Not to be mistaken, if there’s anyone who loves their boyfriend, it’s you. You would live and die for Kim Taehyung, but there’s a special reason for your eyeroll today.

It has been only two weeks since Taehyung got off tour, and at that a world tour. You know Taehyung must be very tired from constantly travelling, hence why you let your boyfriend get his full rest the first week. But the thing is you haven’t seen your lover in a year, and you want to make some memories with him. 

You know he will get too busy once the post-tour lull passes over everyone at the company and everything goes back to regular schedule. Then, Taehyung will get sucked away by album preparations, promotions once it’s out, and inevitably: another tour.

You love that Taehyung gets to do what he loves for a living. You also love how cool he looks on stage. But most of all you like getting to spend time with him. 

To be honest, you were going to go see Taehyung in Paris during the European leg of the tour. It had been your anniversary, and the two of you had plans to get dinner together and enjoy the city. But then life happened and your plans came crashing down, preventing you from seeing Taehyung until the tour ended months later.

But past you had thought quickly, knowing the day Taehyung would return home and shifted your ticket instead of cancelling. So a week after Taehyung got home, you presented him with a second plane ticket to Paris, France that you bought last minute just for him.

You thought Taehyung would agree with making up for your missed anniversary, but Taehyung had frowned instead. “Babe, I seriously don’t want to go anywhere for a while. I’m sick of hotels and planes.”

“But I’ve never been there, baby. It would be so romantic!” You convinced him eventually, your pout winning him over. Taehyung had sighed, then called his manager to let him know.

So excited from Taehyung agreeing, you had leapt up into his arms and kissed him like crazy. “Ahhh! I’m so excited!”

Taehyung had held back a grin. “Okay. But no touristy stuff.”

You pout. “But that’s the most fun part!” When Taehyung pouts back, you try to convince him again. “Baby, I promise I’ll seriously do anything you say if you do all the embarrassing touristy stuff with me.”

“Anything?” Taehyung asked you, arching a brow. 

You took his hand, nodding eagerly. “Anything. Let’s just have fun!”

Taehyung grinned at you. “You better keep your word.”

You had kissed him, grinning at him. He watched you with a fond smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You bet I will.” You vow.

It isn’t until you actually land in Paris that you realize what anything Taehyung is imagining.

For all his great qualities, Taehyung is not subtle about what he wants. Especially when he wants you.

The first three days, Taehyung lets you drag him around under the condition that you both wear disguises to avoid being noticed. You comply, picking odd hours of the day for activities that would be very busy at other times of day. You hit all the touristy spots in early mornings before the crowd, hide away in small tucked away cafes and restaurants with Taehyung during lunch hour, then spend the day browsing vintage stores for jewellery and clothes. 

It’s all fun and games except for the teasing that Taehyung will not stop. It’s hard for you to name a time of day where Taehyung’s big hands hadn’t been resting on your waist or his lips idly pressing a kiss to your cheek in passing. You know very well the game Taehyung is playing. He is slowly working you up, getting you used to his constant touches. Then, he will withdraw them, leaving you needy. 

Despite Taehyung’s teasing, the two of you still have a great time. You buy souvenirs for your friends and things for yourself. Taehyung also buys you clothes and jewellery, loving to spoil you. But what you love the most are the small establishments he brings you to, full of tasty food and where no one knows his name. You know the game Taehyung is playing, but you let him guide you to an isolated table towards the back and feed you food off his own utensils. You let him wipe the corner of your mouth for some smeared sauce, let him lick it off his thumb. Sometimes, you even get a little on your face on purpose. Taehyung notices when you do that, and lets you get away with it. After all, this isn’t a favour he’s doing you. This is your anniversary trip. He can’t be the only one getting away with teasing.

The following three days, the two of you hit the museums. Taehyung shows you around, explaining things he had seen on previous trips to Paris. You listen to him, happier to see him happy than to really look at the art. You take pictures of your boyfriend inside the museum and really anywhere it won’t catch too much attention.

Over those three days, Taehyung’s touches decrease. He reduces it little by little, but you know him well by now. Taehyung isn’t trying to be subtle, rather the opposite. He wants you to notice, to get riled up when his touch is gone. 

You tell yourself you don’t mind it, but both of you know it’s a lie. You ignore the smirk on Taehyung’s face every time you intertwine your hands or wrap an arm around his waist to guide him through the back roads. You will get back at him at dinner tonight.

After lunch on the final day, you tell Taehyung to head back to the hotel on his own. You say you are going to buy a new dress for your dinner date tonight, and that you want it to be a surprise for him. Chuckling, Taehyung just passes you his blackcard and tells you to have fun.

You buy a dark green coloured gown, Taehyung’s favourite colour, and a matching necklace and earrings set of emeralds. You smile at the sight of your ass being cupped by the silky material. This is sure to drive Taehyung mad. After all, tonight is the final night. Both of you know exactly how tonight will end.

You catch a cab to the five star Taehyung made a reservation at. You pay the taxi driver excitedly, getting out in your all new outfit, new heels, and even a new purse! You were sure to impress Taehyung.

You walk into the restaurant, telling the waiter who you’re here with. He lets you in, guiding you upstairs to your table.

You frown as you see your table. From this angle, you can’t see who, but Taehyung is talking to a woman. You approach quietly, catching neither of their attention. Luckily (or unluckily) for you, they’re talking loudly. You don’t speak much French but you don’t need it to deal with this woman. You hear her mention the word “model” and a woman’s clothing brand. You hear her repeat “model” a second time as she blatantly roams her eyes down Taehyung’s figure, then up at him. That’s the part that makes your blood boil. You know she is aware of your presence. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what kind of relationship you and Taehyung have.

But she still challenges you anyway, openly eyeing your man in public. If you could speak more French than basic small talk you would rip her a new one. 

Fuck it. You think, making your way across the room. Who needs to know the language?

“Oh, baby.” You say in a sweet voice. They both look over at you. The woman looks visibly irritated, pursing her perfect lips in annoyance. What a shame you like to flirt with other women’s men. You think, slightly in awe at her beauty. I’d like you in any other situation. “Is this a friend?” You ask.

You see a hint of a smile before Taehyung bites it back. “No, Y/N. We just met tonight.”

You smile pointedly at the woman. She frowns at you. “Ah, I see. Well, it was nice meeting you. We haven’t had dinner yet, so.” You say, pretending to be apologetic for cutting the conversation short. All three of you know you’re not, but it’s the thought that counts. Or doesn’t. You couldn’t care less.

“Colour.” Taehyung asks the minute you’re back in the hotel room. 

“Green.” 

“Poor baby. Got so angry that I took my eyes off you, huh?” Taehyung teases, hooking his fingers in the band of your underwear. He pulls back, making it snap against your hips. You whimper. “What’s that? Are you trying to say something?” Taehyung taunts you.

He cranes his head to look at you. He cups your face and makes you look at him. He makes a fake-worried face. “That’s odd, you were talking perfectly fine a few hours ago. Was it something in the food that’s making you feel sick or are you just embarrassed from being a possessive little slut in front of sir?”

His words make you shiver. He grins as he feels it against his own abdomen. “It seems like you’re really sick, Y/N. I guess we'll just have to go to bed.”

He begins to unwind his arms from around your waist, but you grab them, holding them against your skin. “S-Sir.” You whisper.

“There’s my girl.” Taehyung says proudly, rewarding you with a kiss to your temple. “Let’s talk about what you did wrong tonight, shall we?”

“I-I was possessive. I got jealous because you were talking to that model.”

Taehyung’s eyes flicker at the last word. “Oh, you heard?” He snaps the band of underwear against your skin again. You wriggle, but he refuses to let you go. “What a bad girl. Eavesdropping on sir’s conversations. What if she had been a potential colleague and you ruined everything? But you didn’t think of any of that, only your. own. feelings.” He emphasizes each of the three words with another smack. “You’re just an ungrateful little slut, aren’t you? I bet you would open your legs for any man that offered you this kind of treatment, huh?” He growls in your ear.

“I-I’m sorry.” You whisper, voice cracking.

Taehyung stops. “Colour.” He says, thumbs gently stroking at your sides.

“Green.” 

“Y/N.” He repeats more firmly. You sniffle. A tear rolls down your cheek. Taehyung thumbs it away immediately. “We don’t have to. I’m sorry. Do you want to take a bath together? We can cuddle after. Anything you’re comfortable with baby.”

You shake your head, looking away from him. “I’m really okay. I...I want my punishment.”

Taehyung turns you to look at him. He watches your face, looking for any unwillingness. He cups your face and makes you look at him. He smiles finally when he sees the familiar, hazy look in your eyes. You are already slipping into subspace.

“Follow me.” Taehyung says.

You walk behind him, still naked except for your panties. Taehyung is still entirely clothed in his suit and tie. He leads you to the fancy living room of the suite, and closes the curtains. You wait until he sits down to approach him. You observe his spread legs and the stern look in his eye. The air in the living room is freezing cold, but it only adds to it. This is one of the many things you love about Taehyung. How incredibly sexy he looks when he is in control.

Without being asked, you get on the sofa on your hands and knees. You drape your body over Taehyung’s lap, ass up in his lap. You fold your arms over the sofa’s armrest, turning your head to look at Taehyung. 

Taehyung’s warm hand caresses your ass. He kneads at the flesh roughly without breaking eye contact with you. On the outside, he looks indifferent, dark eyes sultry. He makes it look like he couldn't care less if it was you or another sub being bent to his will. But you know it’s part of the scene, that he’s watching you this intensely for your reaction and it is only your reaction he ever wants in a setting like this.

“You can safeword out if you need to.” He reminds you. You nod, putting your head against the armrest. “Count.” He tells you, before the first smack comes down.

You flinch on instinct, but his arm pins the backs of your thighs down. “One.”

Another smack but to the other cheek. You hiss under your breath. “Two.”

Taehyung gives the next three in succession. “F-Five.”

“Colour?” Taehyung re-checks. You reply green again. He delivers two more. “Six, ah, seven.”

The next two smacks are harsher. “Eight, nine一!” As you’re counting, Taehyung gives the final one. This one is the hardest of all, making the two of you sink a little lower into the sofa. “T-Ten.”

You are crying now, falling deeper into your subspace. Taehyung’s warm hands smooth over the places they hit. His voice murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, reassuring you.

“S-Sorry.” You continue to cry. “I didn’t mean to be like that.”

“I know.” Taehyung reassures you. He helps you up into a sitting position. It burns to sit on your still painful ass, but you do so anyway because it’s Taehyung who asks you to do it. “You took my punishment very well, Y/N, just like a good girl.”

You shake your head, sniffling. “I don’t wanna be ‘a good girl’, I wanna be your good girl.” You say. Taehyung frowns slightly as he wonders what that means, then looks shocked when he realizes what you’re saying.

“You are my good girl, baby.” He says softly, wiping away your tears. “No one but you.”

“But i-it was our a-anniversary dinner and you were letting her flirt with you. You just一just let her do it. And when I called you baby at the restaurant, you only called me Y/N.” You confess, giving up your fake confident act. The truth is that despite your anger in the moment, you had felt very insecure. It wasn’t like you could blame the woman for finding your boyfriend hot, anyone would. But the fact that Taehyung never said anything back and just put up with it instead of correcting her bothered you. Was it embarrassing to admit he was dating you in front of a woman who was so obviously his equal in elegance? This thought bothered you throughout the whole dinner. 

You didn’t plan on telling Taehyung about it, since he didn’t know you sometimes felt this way. One of the reasons you insisted on travelling to make up for your missed anniversary was this doubt. Maybe if you showed him around this fancy city and you made good memories with him, he might appreciate it. Maybe then it would ease your doubt of if you were worthy enough to be his.

You had never admitted this aloud to anyone, but you actually wondered If Taehyung had women in other countries that he went on dates with during tour. You know Taehyung is a good person but after all, he is a young man with sexual needs. And at that, a very attractive man who could get with just about any woman he wanted. So yes, seeing him talk to the very attractive woman had angered you, but it also made you feel like your worst fears might be true. 

“Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Taehyung pleads you, his worried brown eyes searching your face for any answers.

“...Can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course, my love.” Taehyung responds. “Ask me anything you want, baby.’

You sniffle. You play with his suit blazer. “Can you promise to not get mad at me?”

Taehyung looks like he might cry when you ask that. “I promise.”

“When you go away for tour...is there anyone else?” You watch your own tears fall onto Taehyung’s dress shirt. Taehyung looks shaken. “It might seem random but I’ve always wondered. I promise I’m not just acting up because of tonight.”

Taehyung continues to watch you, looking worried and at a loss for words. You put on a fake smile. “Sorry, it’s probably nothing. Let’s just go to bed.” 

Taehyung holds you by the waist, stopping you from getting up. “Y/N.”

“I said it’s fine. It’s okay. Really, even if you had another woman. I can’t control what you do when you’re not with me. A year is too long for a couple to spend apart anyway, it’s only natural that your feelings would change. It’s okay. Anyway,” You breathe shakily. “Anyway I’m still yours. As long as you like, of course.”

“Of course I like it.” Taehyung insists, tears glistening in his eyes. “I love you. Tell me how long you’ve felt like this.”

You hesitate. “Y/N.” There it is again, that firm tone that you hate outside of scenes. 

You look down at your hands. “Maybe two years?”

Taehyung is crying now, and he cups your face in his hands. “You’ve been thinking like this for two years? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“...I didn’t want to burden you. You’re really busy on tour.”

Taehyung purses his lips. “Can I show you there’s no one else?”

You nod. Taehyung lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He holds you by the backs of your thighs instead of your ass, careful not to hurt you. “The bed?” He asks. You consider the feeling of the rough sheets against your sore ass. 

You shake your head. “C-Can we use the hot tub?”

Taehyung kisses your forehead. “Anything for you.”

Taehyung sets up the hot tub for both of you. He takes your panties off for you, sliding them down your legs. He kisses you deeply, sweetly. You whimper into the kiss, his tongue completely in control of your mouth. When you part, a strand of saliva comes loose. When you part far enough, the saliva ends up on your chin. Taehyung wipes it with his thumb. A darkness has entered his eyes again. “Get in. Let me show you how much I love you.”

You get in the hot tub, relishing the feeling of the hot water. It stings a bit, but it’s easier to sit then the bed would have been. You sit with your legs spread slightly, calves tucked under you and feet beneath your ass. Neat and pretty. Just the way sir likes it.

Taehyung strips quickly once you’re in the water. Your eyes roam over his beautiful body, at the hard muscle of his chest, his bulging biceps, his caramel thighs, and his rigid cock. “Come here.” Taehyung orders as he gets in the water. You do so, climbing up into his lap. He kisses you hungrily, like this is the first time all night. You are surprised at the intensity of this kiss. You cannot recall a time Taehyung has ever kissed you so passionately in your years together, even in your roughest scenes. 

“So pretty.” Taehyung growls when you two part again. He wraps one arm around your waist to press your chest against his, then attacks your neck. You gasp as he makes love bites, all the way down your neck. He has never made this many before in total, yet he makes them everywhere tonight. He litters your collarbone and the top of your chest with them, making them bloom red at first but you know they will be a deep purple shade tomorrow. “How can you not know what you mean to me, when you’re this fucking beautiful? You drove me crazy in your dress tonight, no, you drive me crazy every fucking time I see you. Maybe even since the first time I met you.”

“S-Sir.” You moan at the praise, face heating up. Taehyung pushes you back against the wall of the hot tub. You tilt your head back against the tiles as he touches you everywhere. He uses his hands to tease at your nipples, making them harden. Even as he does it, he is grinding down on you. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. 

“You fucking know I am.” Taehyung snaps, losing the careful composure he wears during scenes. “You’re my one and my only. Look at yourself, so fucking lewd, all worked up by my touch. You have me wrapped around your finger and you still think I’d have another woman.” He continues, cursing in between his sentences at your sweet sounds.

“S-Sorry.”

“Don’t ever be sorry.” Taehyung cuts you off. You let out moans as he starts rubbing at your clit, hard and fast. You grind against his hand. In his dom persona, Taehyung would never tolerate you doing this, but both of you are too far gone tonight to follow the rules to a T. “I will clear this misunderstanding tonight. On your knees, princess.” 

You lean on top of the towel Taehyung placed for you on the tiles. Taehyung places his own knees outside of yours, and you feel his hard cock against your ass. Taehyung eases two fingers into you, wet from your arousal that it’s an easy fit. “Nnn, sir.” You plead, grinding down on him. 

“You won’t get more until you say what I want to hear.” Taehyung says next to your ear. He presses his chest into your back, pinning you to the edge of the hot tub. “Who do you belong to?”

“Sir! I belong to sir!” You cry out, and Taehyung picks up the pace.

“So fucking pretty.” Taehyung praises, kissing the marks he left on your neck. “Only you get treated like this, understand? No woman could ever be loved like this by me. Every time you forget I will bend you over my lap and make you come on my cock over and over until you get it in your head.”

You let out a particularly loud moan at that, making Taehyung smirk. “Does my princess like that, hmm? You want to get bent over and take my cock all the time? Want me to fill you up with my come, plug you with a pretty little toy, and make you go about your day?” Taehyung inserts another finger and the stretch has you whining. “Answer me.” He demands.

“I do. Ah, fuck, Taehyung. Please. I do.” You plead, tilting your head to the side. Taehyung meets you immediately in a passionate kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, completely different from Taehyung’s usual style. Is this really what he can do when he lets go? You wonder, getting drunk on his kisses alone. You thought Taehyung had been rough before, but it’s nothing compared to tonight.

“Turn around.” Taehyung says, withdrawing his fingers. 

He takes in your needy expression, leaning in to kiss you again like he can’t get enough of you. “Can I come in you, baby? Have you been taking your pill regularly?” 

“Yes. Yes.” You chant. Taehyung laughs breathlessly, grabbing a fistful of your hip in one hand and lining himself up to your entrance.

When he enters, both of you moan. “So good. Whose are you, princess?”

“Yours, only yours.” You answer breathlessly. Taehyung grips your thighs and lifts you slightly, allowing him to enter you more deeply. 

Taehyung abruptly picks up the pace of his thrusts. You grip at his shoulders for support, unable to stop the noises that fall from your lips constantly. Not only is Taehyung going fast, he is also going incredibly deep, rubbing right over your G-spot. 

“C-Can I come, sir?” You beg.

Taehyung nods, and you move one hand between your legs to rub at your clit. As you tip your head back, Taehyung holds himself deep inside you. Both of you come at the same time, you clench hard around him and Taehyung pumps his seed inside you. He kisses at the marks on your neck as he comes, and you dig your nails into his back. 

You move your hand to his hair once you finish, stroking it gently. Taehyung pulls back from the wall, his hand smoothing down your back to ease any discomfort you felt being pressed against it. You don’t even notice until the postcoital bliss dies down that your ass was now more sore than before. But Taehyung does. 

“Let’s take a shower.” He tells you, helping you up. You both get out of the hot tub. Taehyung runs a small handcloth under the tap. He comes over and wipes your vagina down first, then cleaning himself. 

The two of you get in the shower together. You let Taehyung wash your body down, scrubbing gently and avoiding touching your ass. You grab his shampoo off the ledge and put a good amount in your palms. “What are you doing?” Taehyung asks, surprised that you turned around while he was washing your back.

“Taking care of you.” You mumble, washing Taehyung hair for him. You grab the detachable showerhead from the side. You shield his eyes with a hand as you rinse the soap out.

Taehyung smiles fondly at how concentrated you look. “Baby, a dom is supposed to look after their sub following a scene. Not the other way.”

You shrug. You probably heard that somewhere. Your brain is too foggy right now to think. “But I want to.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yes.” You answer, smiling at how nice Taehyung’s hair looks now that it’s clean. “Because I belong to you.”

Taehyung lightly pecks your forehead. “And I’m yours.”

Later, when the haze of your subspace wears off, you two are laying in bed together. You’re wearing one of Taehyung’s shirts and a pair of panties. Taehyung is shirtless and in a pair of boxers. Taehyung has just finished putting lotion on your sore bottom to ease the ache for tomorrow. 

You lay on top of Taehyung’s chest, and Taehyung tucks the blankets tucked in around you. You snuggle up against his chest, content in his strong arms.

“Y/N, I know I already proved my point, but you really are my only one.” Taehyung tells you. You don’t reply so he cranes his head to look at you. Taehyung smiles fondly to notice you’re already asleep. He kisses the top of your head. “No problem. I guess I have the rest of my life to prove it to you.” He mutters to himself.

You smile to yourself with your eyes closed.

Requests are open (✿◡‿◡)

[sbirdmrapinoe]

OKAY delayed because I had to get my heart rate under control first, but time for thoughts on the US vs. Netherlands game:

- First, to all y’all USWNT fans who are being cocky and snotty about this win, sit down please. This was nothing to be cocky about. This was a very even match and could have easily gone either way. The US did not play better than the Netherlands, whatsoever. And Miedema was hands down the best player out there today. She is a legend in the making and the fact that she’s so young and already has accomplished what she has is just... wow. Every time she touched the ball I felt nothing but awe, respect, and a sense of impending doom as a US fan. Give credit where credit is due, and stop living in an alternative reality. Nothing but love and respect to the Dutch team 🇳🇱❤️

- NAEHER lord have mercy I almost cried when she saved the first PK and largely became unhinged in the shootout. She was an absolute brick wall. Just phenomenal. I will admit, I had concerns going into this tournament because of her slump in the NWSL lately, but she has found her groove again and damn I am thankful for that. She is saving the defense’s—and the whole team’s—asses this tournament. A clinic out there from one of the best goalkeepers of all time🙏🙏🙏

- Becky and Crystal had some very important saves/tackles in this game. Also, Crystal did some solid work moving up the left side and had much better passing this game. Still, neither seemed to be as sharp or impenetrable as usual

- O’Hara and Dahlkemper have been completely exposed in this tournament. That right side was so, so fragile. Dahlkemper simply couldn’t keep pace, and she made some nearly (and sometimes actually) fatal errors in regards to passing and blocking. O’Hara also left too much space and was sloppy with clearing. Plus, her fouling is a liability. With that little time left??? In the box??? That was practically inexcusable to me. Very disappointed in both of their performances tonight and throughout this tournament

- Speaking of risky/sloppy, Horan was looking pretty good at the beginning of the game, but in the second, things took a bad turn. Her passes became terrible, and she turned over the ball in the worst possible areas. She is not clean and doesn’t make good decisions in the heat of the moment

- Ertz. As much as I hate to admit it, we NEED her. Like *need* her. She is a rock out there. Taking falls and getting back up. She is a beast and integral to breaking up the opposing attack as well as starting the offense for the US

- Sam!!! She is starting to get her magic back!! 😄🙏 Although I didn’t notice her all that much other than her goal, it was so important to get that goal to tie things up. Great timing on her part. She also had a great little tap to Lynn to keep things in play for her goal

- Rose’s speed is really underrated in my opinion. Once again, she was putting in great work on both sides of the ball. I have never really appreciated her defense until this tournament, but my eyes have been opened now. She didn’t stand out to me as much as the other games, but still, very solid out there. Stepping up first for the PK was also HUGE. Big plays in big moments for Rosie

- LYNN!!!!!! 🤩👏👏🙌 I very much doubted Vlatko’s choice to have her start over Press, but she proved me wrong and I am SO glad she did. Her speed was necessary and an absolutely beautiful assist AND beautiful goal. She really stuck with it before the goal, stayed ready. If she stays in this form, she should be a fully rostered player from the get go for the next major tournament. We know she can deliver, and now we are finally seeing her do it on an international level. Flowers to her!

- Lloyd didn’t exist to me today. Did absolutely nothing. I didn’t register her existence. Idk what else to say than that lol 🤷‍♀️ Added nothing meaningful in my opinion

- Heath hasn’t found her stride yet it seems... For one, she should not be doing set pieces. I know that without Press, Pinoe, or Davidson there is no clear option, but it shouldn’t be Heath. That’s not her game. She seems to be getting some of her confidence and creativity back footwork wise which is nice to see! I just would like to see her creating more chances for herself and others. She was relatively quiet for me this game. More games versus Mexico vibes please ✨

- Morgan was also quiet for me today. She didn’t seem to do much? Bless her making her PK, of course, but otherwise it just seemed like a good bit of flopping. She had some chances created for her, but no magic from there

- Press ALSO seemed to struggle today. Similar to last time, she was dispossessed a lot and seemed to have a very hard time organizing her feet to keep the ball to make any meaningful chance for herself or her teammates. She just didn’t seem as poised or under control as she normally does. She also fell to the background for me today. Like Morgan, huge props for the PK. She 100% kept her cool and composure there. The PK was peaceful to watch almost haha, very on brand for her 😊

- Oh, Pinoe. 👩‍🎤🥶🤩✨ The PK queen. What a fitting punctuation mark to a tense, exciting game. She is a big time player in big time moments and that’s exactly why you keep her on the roster. She thrives in that pressure. I guarantee that Horan was set to go fourth but they switched to have Megan go fourth once they knew they could clinch the win. That was just a world class PK shot as well; her positioning made it nearly impossible for the goalkeeper to save it no matter what. The joy I felt when she ran back to the rest of the team and the bench players ran out onto the field. 🥺 As for her play prior to the shoot out, I really have no idea what Twitter is talking about because she was the second best forward today after Williams in my opinion. When she first came on, she had a VERY sloppy pass that resulted in a dangerous turnover. Pretty soon after that though, she got it together, and from there her passes were—for the most part—well chosen, precise, and clean. Her service on set pieces is very off. While I would still choose her over Heath for those, at this time, I’d pick Press or Davidson over P for set pieces until she is out of her slump (the olympics is not the place to have her play through the slump; let her do that in league). Megan made some great runs, did a wonderful job of maintaining possession, showed some great creativity with her footwork, and had some fantastic crosses/passes that resulted in some very much welcome chances for her teammates towards the end of the match. Most of those final chances were coming through her, and I think that was important from a morale perspective as well. Also she dropped back for a couple of really solid defensive plays??? I live to be surprised by the purple soccer elf.

And on to the semi-finals! Let the North American dual commence haha 🇺🇸🇨🇦

[isis-astarte-diana]

tooth and nail

Prompt: @koiwokatarushijin​ wanted cheetah!Missy with 16: “I won’t apologise for marking you up, everyone should know you’re taken.” and 64: “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can make me feel like you do.” and, as a bonus, 76: “You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck.”

Warnings: NSFW. MIHOW. Some blood. Painful penetration. Cheetah!Missy has a big barbed girlcock and I have no self restraint.

Word Count: 3986

NB: I started this, I liked it, it ran away from me, I stared at it a lot, I finished it. It’s longer than it should be. Significantly longer.

“Keep still.”

Missy’s voice is soft, but the arch of her brow leaves very little room for argument. In the simulated morning of the TARDIS kitchen she looks as beautiful as you’ve ever seen her. With the unbuttoned violet housecoat covering her thin chemise and her dark hair slowly wrestling its way out of last night’s braid, she somehow manages to embody a very human sort of domesticity, even while she inspects the wound on your shoulder with eyes shining a decidedly feline shade of amber. She traces the stinging indent of her teeth with the tip of one short, sharp fingernail, igniting the bite in scalding pain that makes you flinch. She tuts.

“Sorry,” you mumble shyly, at the sound of her displeasure. Your fingers tighten on the edge of the countertop you’re sitting on. “I just- it really hurts.”

She makes a sympathetic noise that sounds uncomfortably close to the chirrup of a hunting housecat. Alongside the elliptical slits of her pupils and the elongated threat of her canines, it turns the pitying look she gives you into something uncanny, something that hovers in that space between frightening and soothing and arousing. It’s a space over which Missy is the sole presider.

“It feels worse than it is,” she explains, as if that’s supposed to bring you comfort. “It probably won’t even scar.” 

“Probably won’t,” you echo, sceptically. “So it might?”

“Well, we can always hope.” She leans in to nuzzle at your throat, her breath warm and quivering with a predator’s purr. The noise sends a shiver down your spine. Idly, you reach up to pet her hair, and her volume increases significantly. You can’t help but smile.

“I won’t apologise for marking you,” she murmurs, and runs the flat of her tongue across the wound. It burns exquisitely. You squirm, whimpering a little, only to feel her hands on your thighs, holding you still. “Everybody should know that you’re mine.”

Missy has always been possessive with her things, of which you take pride of place, but her recent relapse with the virus has only exacerbated that behaviour. She seldom leaves your side for more than a few minutes. Even the maintenance of her TARDIS, something she would usually dedicate entire sleepless days to, almost fell by the wayside until you’d insisted that you didn’t mind accompanying her while she did it. There are piles of blankets and pillows placed strategically throughout the ship, now, courtesy of her new nesting instinct, for you to settle in and watch her working, and she has a tendency to pause frequently in her tasks in order to cross the room and assess your wellbeing.

You can’t say you object.

She’s certainly never been neglectful of your needs, even at her most distracted or dastardly, but this development has come as a pleasant surprise. Typically, she has an almost pathologically long attention span, but the effects of the virus have given her a unique and incorruptible focus on you. She’ll put aside her latest endeavours to make sure you’re fed and watered, will accompany you to bed and stay while you sleep even if she herself stays awake to read. It probably should feel suffocating, but, somehow, it never does.

“I like being yours,” you confess, scratching lightly at her scalp. She kneads the soft flesh of your thighs, just below the hem of your pyjama shorts, her talon-sharp nails pricking you with every squeeze. It’s an affectionate sort of pain. “I wouldn’t mind a scar, it’s just- what if you change your mind?”

“About what?” She licks the bite wound again, gentler now, and shivers with satisfaction at the taste of blood. The sting weakens your voice.

“About me?”

Missy freezes. The purring and the kneading stop abruptly, her spine stiffening as she slowly extricates herself from your neck. The tenderness in her eyes makes your heart clench. You hadn’t meant for the question to sound so melancholy, and now that you’ve spoken you feel abashed for it, turning away as if to hide your face from her. She slips a hand under your jaw, coaxing you back with the careful threat of her fingernails scraping your cheek.

“I wouldn’t want anybody else.” She smiles, the curve of her lips too gentle for the fangs it exposes. “Nobody else could make me feel like you do.”

You flush with delight. “You’re just being nice,” you tease, raising an eyebrow so that she knows you’re not upset, and her answering laugh is like velvet. 

“I’ve never been nice in my life, dear.” Her fingers trail down your neck, spiralling back to stroke over the bite. “This looks lovely on you.”

It looks a mess - or it did, earlier, when you saw it in the mirror while you were brushing your teeth. Her strong jaws have left a deep, livid bruise that spans wide across your shoulder, the bite mark itself half scabbed and half raw, beading lazily with fresh blood. Still, you can’t deny enjoying the thought of being branded as hers, or the way that her obvious appreciation of it laps at your belly with desire. “Do you really think so?”

Her eyes flick back to you, pupils blown, and she bares her teeth at the question. She squeezes your thigh hard enough to make you jolt. “I think I’m doing remarkably well to hold back from taking you here on the kitchen counter.”

This is another effect of the virus that you’re not about to object to.

Missy is hedonistic, by nature, and always has been, but there’s something compulsive about her libido now. The pursuit of pleasure is no longer a hobby for her but an obsession. You certainly had no complaints, before - she would take you with indulgence, your body and its workings a source of boundless fascination, your pleasure or your suffering a thing to be relished - but there is something to be said for being needed. This primal drive to claim and possess and breed is a delightful novelty. It thrills you to see her composure slip so far. Where tooth and nail had been a constant threat, they’re now something of an inevitability, something beyond her control. The depth of last night’s bite is a blazing testament to that.

Sheepishly, you whisper, “you don’t have to hold back. I mean- if you don’t want to.”

“I think perhaps I’d better.” Even as she speaks, you can hear her voice darkening, her fingers beginning to resume their rough kneading of your thigh. She drops her other hand between your legs to cup you through your shorts. The faintest pressure from her fingers against the lips of your cunt makes you wince at the ache there. Her eyes soften. “You’re still sore.”

“Well- yeah,” you admit, with a self-conscious bite of your lip. Hooking your leg around her, you pull her closer with a heel at the base of her spine. She makes no attempt to stop you. The change in position lets you grind into her palm, pleasure sweet and soothing to the swollen flesh. She purrs, squeezing down gently to increase the friction for you, and you can’t bite back a gasp. “I just- I thought, maybe…”

“You thought what?” Missy cocks her head, crooking her fingers to stroke over your clitoris through the fabric. Your whimper earns you another dagger-pointed smile. She ducks her head to kiss along your jaw, tightening her grip on your thigh. “Did you want mummy to kiss it better?”

The desperate noise you make must be answer enough.

Her strength is alarming when she forgets it; it seems to take her no effort at all to pull your hips right to the edge of the countertop, so suddenly that you let out a little yelp in surprise and pain and have to grab the counter to keep from falling hard onto your back. You can already feel a bruise blooming under her fingers from the force. Given her propensity for leaving marks - and the grin that wavers between smug and apologetic - you suspect that it’s not an accident, but when she catches your mouth in a hungry kiss you forgive her immediately.

Her insistent weight slowly presses you to lean back, offering up your throat for her lips. She wastes no time in working her way down it, nuzzling at the softness of your breasts and belly through your shirt until her nose brushes the ticklish skin above your waistband. You let yourself lie flat across the counter, mostly to free up a hand so that you can stroke her hair, and she rewards you by nipping at your hip bone. 

“I can smell myself on you.” It’s almost a growl, her voice raw with desire. “I’m all over you. Inside you.” You jolt upright with a cry when she presses her open mouth to your shorts, her breath hot through the fabric. Your hand goes white knuckled on the edge of the countertop for support. She lifts her eyes to you, almost black with the dilation of her pupils, and scrapes you, gently, with her teeth. It doesn’t hurt - in fact, it feels wonderful, the shock of pleasure stealing your breath - but you recognise the warning and settle back down, closing your eyes against the lights on the ceiling. Her tongue drags flat and scalding over the seam once you do, and she purrs so aggressively that you can feel the dull vibration. Pulling off to ease your shorts down, she adds, “you taste of me, too.”

“I do?” You lift your hips to assist her, and she drags her fingernails down the lengths of your legs as she removes your pyjama bottoms, leaving thin lines of stinging heat in her wake. You quiver under her touch. “From- from last night?”

“From always.” 

Her fingertips pass ticklish over your bare foot when she unhooks the fabric from around your ankles, and she lifts your heel to press a kiss to the sole. It makes you squeak. “Is that a good thing?”

Missy laughs, warmly, flicking her tongue across your arch so that you gasp. She all but slings your leg around her shoulder as she sinks to her knees. Her first breath against your naked cunt is a reverent sigh. “What do you think?”

You don’t think much of anything at all.

Her tongue sliding between your labia is enough to have you short-circuiting, conscious of very little besides the fluid, velvet heat of her. You retain just enough awareness to hold onto the counter beneath you in order to avoid pulling her hair. The briefest pass over your clitoris makes your hips jerk, and she loops her arms around your thighs to spread you wider and keep you in place. Firmer, now, the pressure glides back down, through a delicate furrow of flesh where you can feel both the rough of her taste buds and the impossibly smooth muscle underneath. When she takes this fold into her mouth and touches it - just touches it - with her teeth you have to clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the squeal. 

The reverberation of her satisfied purring doesn’t help matters.

At first, you think she must be doing it on purpose, knowing how it would feel for you, but there are none of the smug chuckles or glances that usually accompany such behaviour. When her tongue strokes the lips of your cunt, still sore and swollen from last night’s activities, and her pitch increases sharply it dawns on you that the noise is involuntary. The realisation that she could derive such obvious pleasure from this renders you almost as weak as the sudden intrusion of her tongue.

Your back arches from the countertop immediately. Missy drags you back down, pressing herself deeper. Kissing you better may have been a misnomer - she’s hot, flexing muscle inside of you, serving mostly to remind you of how raw you are - but you can hardly bring yourself to be upset about the voracity with which she seeks out the taste of herself within you. Your muscles squeeze tight around her squirming tongue. Another escalation in her purrs, coupled with the way her fingers sink into the flesh of your thighs to knead at it, is proof enough that she appreciates her work.

Indeed, she seems content to stay like this for quite a while. Despite her earlier words, there’s nothing urgent about the way she devours you. You lose track of how long she spends working you over with her mouth, stroking unhurried pleasure into you, coaxing out whines and gasps and so much slick that you can feel it running down towards your tailbone. Her teeth catch you, now and then, and flood you with cold adrenaline each time, but never do you any harm.

Her nails are another matter entirely.

Every slow squeeze of your thighs comes with needling pain. It’s not vicious - far from it - but the insistent clawing always follows the same path, carving into you to mark where her fingers have passed. The scratches are blazing hot and stinging with blood. It hurts enough to bring tears to your eyes, but the steady rhythm of squeeze, claw, release is almost meditative, and you lose yourself in it with ease. Dragging your hips over the edge of the kitchen counter, she pulls you down into the lazy pattern of her hands and mouth and breath.

When, at last, Missy fastens her lips fully to your clitoris, the violence of your orgasm hits you like lightning; you’d forgotten that this could only ever end in flames.

By the time you’ve recovered from the trauma enough to lift your head she’s already released you. She laps at the slick that puddles in the dimples of your thighs. Breathless, still whimpering, twitching just above her tongue, you reach down to pet her hair. With a little chirrup of surprise she turns her attention to cleaning away your blood. 

It can’t be sanitary - she’ll wash these cuts properly later, with damp cotton wool soaked in something that burns like salt, purring to comfort your cries - and it stings as much as it soothes. You flinch away from the liquid pain. She holds tighter to your hips, following your retreat even as you scrabble back along the counter, rising from her knees to pursue you. Her low snarl makes you fall still. You know better than to ignore a warning, verbal or otherwise; more importantly, you know better than to snatch meat from the jaws of a lion.

It’s easy to forget, in the calmer moments, quite how savage she can be.

The kitchen lights reflect neon in the vast, dark pits of her pupils when she looks up at you. Her face is wet from nose to chin and faintly smudged with copper. Your eyes lock, for a moment, and a particular kind of stillness settles over the both of you, like the heavy heat before a thunderstorm or the silent shock before a scream. You know full well that any movement now is a provocation. Your arms tremble from the effort of holding yourself still at this half-upright angle, your thighs quivering with the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you can’t stop yourself from squeaking like a captured mouse and, apparently, that’s all the invitation she needs.

Missy yanks you back to the edge of the countertop before you can draw breath to cry out. Naked, now, from the waist down, the pain is startling; friction burns red hot between marble and soft skin, her grip on your hips bruising right down to the bone. The sudden onslaught of her strength turns you cold with primal fright. Weakened by the shock, there’s nothing to do but cling to her for stability, wrapping your arms around her shoulders and your legs around her waist. Her chemise rucks up between your bellies. The heavy brocade of her housecoat irritates the cuts on your thighs, a stinging torment that threatens to loosen the tears clinging to your lashes, until her cock slides between your lips and your body comes alive with an altogether different sort of alarm.

Her barbed shaft slicking through your labia sets you alight. Every tiny spine is a fine point of delicious agony, countless of them clustered together like the bristles of a brush, raking over your delicate flesh. When the head of her cock strokes over your clitoris it feels like the prickle of a dozen needles. The jolt of pleasure makes you choke. It’s too much of everything - too sharp, too sweet, too soon after having come already. Your hips give a stuttering roll into hers, torn between the reflex to pull away and the maddening urge to rut against her. 

Fortunately, the choice isn’t yours to make.

Broad, blunt pressure at the lips of your cunt has you stiffening in her arms. You’re wet enough to take her - you must be; you can feel your own slick puddling beneath you on the counter - but you know that it won’t be easy. However pliant the orgasm might have left you, however well she might have opened you with her tongue, nothing can ease the tight pinch of something too big slowly spreading you apart. You tuck your face against her shoulder to hide the trembling grimace of your mouth and draw a long, unsteady breath, willing yourself to relax.

It doesn’t help. It never does.

The first thrust is a hot knife in your belly. Your cunt burns in furious protest at being stretched so wide so quickly, and your whole body clenches in a futile attempt to force her out. Gasping, you flinch away, but she boxes you in with a hand braced behind you on the countertop. 

"It's alright, it's alright." Missy rests her forehead against yours, the words a scalding rasp across your face. You taste your own blood and cunt on her breath. She rolls her hips, pulling you tight against her when you whine and try to squirm away. Her lips curl back from her teeth in warning. "Relax. Take it for me."

She's quivering with restraint. You can see it in her eyes, hear it in the low growls that tug at the end of every laboured breath. Under your shaking hands, the muscles in her shoulders are tight as coiled springs. Her taloned fingers dig into your back as she fights the instinct to hold you still, to pin you down and take as she pleases. Something like adoration swells in your chest.

You don’t want her to stop - you asked for this, needed this, would have gotten on your knees to beg for it if you’d had to - but you don’t have the strength that she does. You have no more control over your tears or your protests than you do the helpless, spasming muscles of your cunt. All you can do is trust her to know what you’re pleading for. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” The rough of her tongue drags over your cheek, tasting the salt there. Your eyes drift shut when she starts to purr again. You can feel yourself slackening, moving limp as a ragdoll as she hoists your leg higher over her hip to open you wider, and she slips deeper inside you with a slow, slick sting. Your face twists in pain, but you dig your heel into her back to welcome her. Her strained gasp cools the shell of your ear. “That’s it. Good girl.”

You mewl pitifully at the praise. Clinging to her, you shift your hips in an attempt to accommodate the stretch better, working fruitlessly to find a position that might make this feel more comfortable. You succeed only in pulling off far enough to ignite the tender walls of your cunt with friction as her barbed cock grasps at you from within. The burn leaves you blinking back a flood of fresh tears. “Missy-”

“I know. I know, dear.” From the tightness of her voice you can tell that she’s reaching her limit. Soon, soon, like it or not, her need will win out, and she’ll be as powerless as you are against it. You take some comfort from that; comfort, too, in the way she lets her head fall against your shoulder, loose curls of dark hair tickling your neck while she laps at the bite wound there.

It helps - it does help, a bit - to have some other hot wet pain to distract you when she finally starts to move.

Any further pleas die in your throat. No matter how familiar it is, you never seem to get used to the feeling of being rubbed raw by those tiny, needling spines. Missy snarls into the curve of your neck, some of the tension draining from her body as she gives herself over to the pleasure of taking you. You scrabble mindlessly at her shoulders, your every breath a sob.

“My sweet human.” Her claws rake over your thigh to stop your futile struggling. You sink into the pain, relaxing against her chest, letting yourself be torn apart in her grasp. She purrs with satisfaction. “You take me so well.”

The angle isn’t perfect, but it’s good enough. You can’t pretend it doesn’t come as a relief not to have her buried inside you to the hilt. Even so, you can feel her almost unpleasantly deep, pressure clenching beneath and behind your navel each time she fills you. The helpless, jerking motions of her hips push you higher, closer, but you won’t be able to come from this alone. The pleasure itself is an ordeal. Your cunt pulses with it, squeezing her barbed cock like a fistful of stinging nettles, turning every wave of bliss to hot ashes.

If you weren’t so exhausted already, you might slip a hand between your bodies to stroke yourself. If she weren’t so worked up from tasting you, Missy might do the same. As it is, neither of you can think far enough to loosen your arms from around the other, tied together tooth and nail in your own separate agonies. 

Mercifully, she doesn’t last long.

“Come on,” you whisper, shakily, when you feel her grip tightening on your thigh. She shudders at the sound of your voice. Your fingers pluck at her hair, cradling her to you, legs locked around her to pull her deeper. You urge her on with tearful, choking desperation. “Come for me, Missy. Please, please. For me. Just for me. I want- I need-”

When she breaks, she snaps like a steel cable.

Her hips jolt forwards with force that steals your breath. She spills inside you, holding you still to make you take it, her teeth drawing fresh blood from the wound on your shoulder as she comes. Pain strangles your shriek into a silent cry. For a long, long moment you’re conscious of nothing but the roar of your own heartbeat in your ears and the twitching, spasming muscles where your bodies join.

The first slow stroke of her tongue across your shoulder makes you flinch. Missy coos, softly, and nuzzles at you, her unsteady breaths hot on your skin. “Might scar now.”

Your sniffles turn the words into a weak accusation. “You did that on purpose.”

“Naturally.” Slowly, so slowly, she loosens her grip on you, easing back until she can press her forehead to yours once more. Her eyes have brightened to their usual shade of yellow. “How could I resist, when you wear it so well?”

Your face flushes with delight. Sounding rather less disgruntled than you’d hoped, you mutter, “you know, most people just buy their girlfriends jewellery.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” She trails her fingers across your clavicle. You shiver at the touch, and at the sight of her licking your blood from her teeth. “I think you’d look rather fetching with a pearl necklace.”

[monodreamin]

Last Christmas I gave you my heart

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader, ex boyfriend Taehyung x Reader

Rated: M (18+)

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny bit of angst, one shot

Synopsis: Last Christmas was full of heartbreak when your Ex boyfriend Taehyung broke up with you on Christmas. You run into your ex boyfriend in a department store a year later and the stranger swoops in to save you.  

Warnings: protected sex, sex with a stranger, a bit of jealous /possessive Hoseok, vaginal sex and not too many warning so it’s all I can think of for now.

Words: 2,351

I was doing some last minute Christmas shopping at a department store when I bumped into him. Him the man who broke my heart last Christmas he ripped my heart from out my chest and proceeded to stomp it out as it laid on the ground until it was mush and a bloody mess. That's exactly how it felt if I had to describe it.

Damn it why was he still so ethereal looking? but I knew better than that he was the devil. I watched from a safe distance he was so into whatever was in his hands. The Christmas lights from a nearby display cast light on his face.

The man and I dated for a year before we broke up. The saddest part was when I scrolled down my instagram feed and saw some photos of him with another woman on new year's eve. I was dating him for a year and he never once posted me. To be fair we both agreed not to post each other. We wanted our relationship to be private. But shortly after we broke up he posted his new girlfriend which had me thinking how long had he been with her? Did he cheat on me? It was only natural for me to think about these things with the timing.

It made me think that's probably why he didn't want us to post about our relationship to begin with. I agreed at the moment because I thought it was a great idea. I was always a private person and I didn't want anyone giving us their opinions on our relationship. it was easy for me to agree to these terms and maybe it was stupid of me too.

“Y/n???” Taehyung spotted me and walked my way. Shit I froze. My eyes stayed glued to his face as he made his way towards me.

“oh...hello Taehyung.” I croaked my eyes now looking down at the floor.

“It’s been so long. What has it been like a year?” he embraced me and I stiffened in his arms. Why was he treating me like I was his long lost friend? After we broke up we stopped communicating and I didn't know what I would do if I crossed paths with him again. This experience was awkward to say the least.

“Yea it has been exactly a year.” my eyes glanced over at a nearby rack. I wanted to look at anything but his face again. “Well it's good seeing you. I’m glad we ran into each other here.”

I pretended to be interested in an item in the nearby rack. “it was good seeing you too.” I lied through gritted teeth. I was trying to play nice and I didnt know how much longer I could keep this facade up.

“I just wanted to ask, did you change your phone number?”The nerve of him to ask me that.

“Yes I did once we broke up.”

“I’m sorry… that's what I wanted to tell you if I ever ran into you again. You did not deserve that. The way it happened it was just… “

“Yes I didn’t deserve to be broken up with on christmas day and i didnt deserve to scroll through my feed and see you with a new woman shortly after. Just say it Taehyung if you were really sorry you would be able to talk honestly about it and apologize sincerely but you're not. So let me guess things didn't work out with you two? ” I had reached my boiling point. I began to walk away before I let things get worse. Taehyung followed me.

“You know if you would just please give me a few minutes to explain myself. ”

“Taehyung I gave you a year that was more than enough. you hurt me and now when I see you it's like I’m reliving everything all over again and I rather not.”

“That’s why I want to make it right. I don’t want you to feel that way anymore.”

“ You shouldn’t care, I will be fine. it's none of your concern anymore so have a nice life” I said loudly.

“I didn’t cheat on you and it was wrong of me to post those photos so shortly after we split up.” Taehyung was now speaking loudly too.

A man who worked at the department store stepped between us. “The shoes you ordered I got them in the size you asked for” he looked at me speaking and I looked back at him confused for a brief second . I then figured out fairly quickly what the man was doing. “I have to go get my shoes. I played along as the man walked off and I followed him.

“I’m so sorry for getting loud in the store. Thank you for stepping in before it got worse.” The man turned to face me, his smile the brightest smile I ever witnessed. His smile was very infectious. My eyes scanning his features his perfectly shaped nose and beautiful

heart shaped lips. The man was gorgeous. Anybody with two eyes could see that.

“it's ok I felt I had to get your attention in some way before it got worse” he wanted to get my attention? My heart pounded loudly through my chest.

“Sorry again and I’m glad you did that, thank you.”

“My name is Hoseok. What is your name?” the clock by his head caught my attention. I was late for work and now in a rush. “My name is Y/N and I don't mean to be rude but I have to go right now or i'll be late. It was nice meeting you though.” I ran off in a hurry hoping I would one day see this man again.

---

I finished my shift at the bakery. The day was a busy one. I was fulfilling many Christmas orders with cakes, pastries and cookies. I just got home locking the door and stepping into the shower to relax and get clean from all the icing and scent of cake off my hair. I was in the shower for a few minutes before I heard a knock on my door. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be over especially at this time. I grabbed a robe and wrapped it tightly around my body. My hair was wet from washing it so I also had a towel over my head. “who is it?” I asked as I looked through the peephole.

“It's me Hoseok. The man from the department store you left your wallet.” he brought up the familiar wallet close to the peephole. It was indeed my wallet and I didn’t even notice I had lost it until now. I opened the door letting him in.

“I’m sorry I just got in from work and was in the shower. Have a seat. Do you want something to drink?” The man handed me the wallet and his face turned red, so red I noticed it even spreaded to his pointy ears.

“I’m fine I should go home now, it's late and... “ he was going to leave. I didn't want him to go. I wanted him inside of me since I first saw him at the department store. I coudn’t get him out of my head at work and now that the man was here I wasn't letting him go easily. His words were soon cut off as I dropped my robe to the floor exposing my naked body. I walked over to him seductively making sure my breasts had an extra bounce to them.

“I…” he was speechless again, his eyes filled with a hunger only my body could satiate. “Come follow me.'' I said as he held my hand and interlocked his fingers with mine. I led him to my bedroom and looked for the brand new box of condoms I had purchased some months ago. “someone is a little too overdressed for my liking.” I began to remove some of his clothing and he joined in helping me do so.

We were both naked and wasting no time he slipped the condom on. “lay on the bed.” he instructed me and I quickly followed his instructions . I couldn't wait for the feeling of his cock deep inside of me stretching me out, he locked eyes with me and pressed his body against mine, kissing my lips long and deeply, he used his tongue so skillfully his hands roaming my body. I moaned into his mouth at the anticipation that was to come.

Hosek then started to rub his body against mine slowly at a tortuous pace. “ Hoseok I want you inside of me already.” I closed my eyes letting out a deep breath. “are you sure, are you ready for me?” Hoseok’s hand rubbed between my legs. “yes I’m ready.I’m

So ready for you.” I whined and I was getting impatient. Hoseok moves his hand up and down my warm heat “let me see how ready you are for me.” he smiled as he watched the way my body reacted to his touch.

“Hoseok please...” I began to moan as he switched techniques with his hand moving his hand in circular motion. “Hoseok please what? Talk to me Y/N” he smirked. The man knew exactly what he was doing and wanted to hear the words coming out my mouth.

“I want you to fuck me with your cock.” I smiled back at him. “Wow I never thought such dirty words would come from such a pretty girl.” Once those words escaped his mouth his cock slowly filled me. “This is what you wanted?” My lips opened in a perfect O shape at the feeling of his cock entering me.

Hoseok smacked my thigh “tell me do you do this often. Do you let other men into your bedroom and let them have their way with you like I am doing now ?” I let out a moan near his ear. “No just you… only you this is my first time.” My nails dug deep into his back. “Good now let’s keep it that way.” his eyes filled with possessiveness as he stroked deeper in me.

“Only you” was all I could mutter before my eyes screwed shut and the pleasure he was giving my body took over all my senses. My legs began to shake and I lost all control. I just let my body give into him the feeling was indelible.

Hoseok was great in bed the way his hips moved. It was like nothing I have ever encountered before. The combination of his girthy cock and effortless hip movements brought me to a climax.

After the pleasure subsided I opened my eyes to see Hoseok pull out of me laying by my side. “That was… amazing but now it’s my turn to make you feel good.” I grabbed his still erected cock and sank down on him but in reverse cowgirl to give him a good look at my ass.

I looked back at him as I began to bounce on his cock making sure my ass slapped against his balls as I rode him. “Fuck Y/N you look so sexy like this” his hands cupped my ass as I picked up the pace.

“You like that?” You began touching your breasts. “Fuck I love it” Hoseok’s head tilted back and the noises leaving his lips were like the sweetest music to your ears. You held on to his ankles for more balance and to give him a better look at the curve of your ass. You were about to reach the second orgasm of the night.

Hoseok grabbed your waist and started matching up your pace fucking into you, he was bringing even more pleasure into your warm wet heat. The sound of skin slapping on skin was the only loud sound to be heard in the room and soon after you both came together.

After the mind blowing sex you knew you wanted to continue to see Hoseok. The connection might have first started off as just sex but it grew into more, he loved you and you loved him once you both fucked it out of your systems that’s when the feelings became more than just sexual.

—-

Hoseok took you around his neighborhood to see the houses decorated for Christmas with lots of lights and outdoor Christmas decorations. It was a tradition started from years ago. “Here drink this, it's getting cold” Hoseok handed you a hot chocolate with marshmallows.

Hoseok hugged you from behind as you both drinked your hot chocolate and watched the lights. What a difference a year made.

“Y/N what are you doing here?” You turned to the sound of the voice and knew exactly who it belonged to Taehyung.

“I’m with my boyfriend.” you pointed to Hoseok.

“Boyfriend? When did this happen?”

“Excuse me but she is my girlfriend and it shouldn’t be any of your concern.” Hoseok put a protective arm over my shoulder bringing me closer to him.

“I’m her…” I cut Taehyung off before he could say anything that would make the situation worse.

“You are what? My ex boyfriend? Because that is what you are now Taehyung. I’m here with my boyfriend trying to have a good time so you should leave us alone.” I grabbed my boyfriend’s hand and walked away. I knew he had a temper on him and would hate to see him lose it on Taehyung.

I don’t know what happened with Taehyung but I didn’t care to find out. I just knew I was in a better place now so all of his attempts to try to get me back wouldn’t ever work. I thought I needed closure and answers from Taehyung but in the end I didn’t. I just didn’t care any longer.

Last Christmas was terrible but this Christmas was special as my favorite Christmas song goes.

Last Christmas I gave you my heart

But the very next day you gave it away

This year, to save me from tears

I'll give it to someone special.

©Monodreamin no copying, translating or stealing any of my works.

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Also feedback will be nice it means more than you know, you can do it through anon asks. I’m nice I won’t bite unless you like 👀😂 jk please just send me something.

[unluckyxse7enart]

MysMarch2021: Heal

Notes: most likely au, intended to be set post-events of “The Future”, where the gang survives, Shiromori’s still gone and presumably they beat off ???. Everyone just sorta falls back into the pattern of being a quartet somehow but also are all dealing with a lot from the incident still. This is primarily a fluffy moment w Mystery and Vivi with some minor thoughts about angstier stuff. Unofficial title:

"Kitsune in a Cone of Shame"

-------

"Mystery, what do you think you're doing?"

He winced, ears flattening to his head so much they almost disappeared entirely into the crest of fur down his neck. Vivi's voice sounded stern. He was definitely in trouble.

"Mystery. Down."

Oh no, there was the Doghouse voice.

An unintentional whine sounded from his throat, and Mystery slowly, deliberately, removed his front paws from the sofa, trying to ease back into where he had them before - he couldn't see where he was putting them, but surely it couldn't be that har-

His left paw slid against nothing, pain flared up in his side, and with a startled yip he was on his way down to the carpeted floor below. He heard Vivi gasp, all traces of anger gone and replaced with an equal measure of distress, but she couldn't move fast enough for the short distance from the coffee table to the floor. Mystery's quick descent ended not with a muffled thud, but a humiliating clunk.

Vivi made a strangled noise, and once more Mystery's ears flattened, this time in annoyance than guilt. He knew that noise anywhere. That was her 'trying not to laugh' noise.

"Mys- Mystery? Are you... *hee!* are you ok?" She asked between poorly restrained snickers, and he let out a belligerent snort, nose mercifully suspended mere centimeters from the floor. At least, it would be merciful, were it not for the fact that he hadn't landed on his face due only to the damning plastic cone around his neck. Mystery sighed in annoyance.

"My side hurts, I have a flimsy plastic cone digging into my shoulderblades, and I do believe any dignity I once had, as a creature filled with more power and wisdom than the three of you combined, has been irrevocably shattered. But otherwise, yes, Vivi, I'm 'fine'," Mystery grumbled, paddling his front legs in a feeble attempt to either find the ground or scratch the menace ruining his honor off of his neck once and for all. Neither happened, and instead all that was achieved was a renewed fit of giggles from his owner as she watched her hapless former pet flail about like a flipped turtle.

"Ok, I- al-alright, just... Just hold still, I'll help you," she managed, still giggling as she got closer. Mystery cocked an eyebrow at her, although he couldn't see her through the opaque material surrounding his head.

"I'm surprised you're not calling Lewis and Arthur in to laugh at my misery, while you're at it," he groused.

"Oh I don't need to, rest assured I've immortalized this moment for all of us - and probably the Internet - to enjoy," she replied, the smirk on her face crystal clear in the tone of her voice. Mystery let out an indignant growl, even as he felt Vivi's cool hands gently positioning themselves around his waist where it was safe to touch. Curse modern cellphone technology. He barely even heard the shutter go off in all the fuss, but he probably shouldn't have been surprised.

"Besides, Lewis's a sap who cries whenever he sees an animal in distress, and I don't think Arthur will appreciate me interrupting his work for this, even if it is objectively the funniest thing on the planet,” Vivi continued, starting to reorient him off of the table. Mystery internally flinched at the mention of Arthur. That wasn't really the reason he wouldn't appreciate it, and they both knew it.

The gang had been doing their best to pull themselves together since what has come to be dubbed, the 'Murder Mystery' incident (Vivi applauded herself for the clever name at the time she suggested it; the boys gave her looks of what she elected to interpret as tired approval). A week and a half had passed by this point and, really, the entire group was still in their own various shambles - Mystery with his severe injuries, the loss of Shiromori, coming off of a malicious possession, and drained magic; Arthur with his destroyed prosthetic and reopened traumas and recalled memories, on top of brand new ones; Lewis as... well, Lewis, except. Not as the rest of them remembered him.

Vivi arguably came out with the most gain from the situation- being able to tap into her ancestral powers, regaining her memories of Lewis, or at least enough to not have her episodes anymore at the mention of him, and while she had been injured as well, it seemed to be healing up nicely, faster than Mystery's own - but he knew she was still putting on a cheerful face to be the glue that kept the gang together. She had to.

Arthur couldn't look at Mystery anymore, and barely left his room, while Lewis alternated between seemingly clingy and aloof with Vivi - most likely a mix of guilt and yearning, although the dog couldn't tell you what went on in the ghost's mind at this point. And Mystery... well, Mystery wasn't even allowed to jump up on the couch for fear of exacerbating his injuries.

Really, everyone stuck together because... that's just how they handled such crises in the past, more than anything. They didn't know what else to do.

In the face of that, Vivi - their headstrong, kind leader Vivi - had stepped up and done her best to make sure to keep things running as smoothly as possible. Even now, as Vivi gently guided Mystery carefully into a more comfortable position on the floor, being vigilant of his injuries while lifting and adjusting him - Mystery knew she was being especially considerate of him, even with her teasing and laughing at him. She almost never handled him so gently, and normally would have called the boys in without a thought regardless.

"Mystery? You doing ok there buddy?"

Mystery was shaken from his reflections as he noticed the worried tone returning to her voice, and he turned his head all the way to look at her, ears pricked.

"Oh, yes- yes, sorry Vivi. I got lost in thought. I'm alright, I don't think anything got too hurt," he said, hoping he anticipated her worries correctly. She snorted, clearly relieved, and gave him a scritch behind the ears.

"I'd hope not. That'd be really embarrassing even by our standards. What were you even trying to do with all that furniture climbing anyways?"

Mystery frowned, eyes darting away in embarrassment.

"Ah, well... I thought, if the problem with jumping up onto the sofa by myself was because a big jump could reopen my stitches, I thought smaller jumps would be safe to do." He was cut off by a squeak of laughter, and frowned more.

"Admittedly not my best moment. But I thought the coffee table would be an adequate stepstool, and I really miss being able to lay on my spot on the sofa on my own," he confessed.

"Aww, Mystery," Vivi sighed, rubbing his back, heeding his side as she did so.

"I know this sorta ruins that need for independence, but would it help if I gave you a lift up this time for your troubles?"

Mystery debated, before giving a tired smile.

"I would like that a lot."

Vivi nodded, getting up with a grunt before cautiously guiding his front paws onto the sofa. Then, once he was in position, she tucked her hands under his back feet, giving him enough lift to scrabble somewhat clumsily up without pulling too much. His short tail began wagging as he felt the comfortable cushioning beneath his paws, and he turned to face Vivi, beaming.

"Thank you, Vivi."

Vivi grinned back, about to speak, but Mystery continued.

"Not just for this, but for everything you've been doing for us all this time. I appreciate it a lot, I know we all do." Vivi's grin melted into a more mushy expression, eyes watery.

"Awww, Mystery that's so sw-"

She was cut off once more as, in an attempt to lick her cheek in thanks, Mystery instead bonked her in the face with the cone. Vivi grunted in surprise as she pulled back, rubbing her nose where the edge collided into her.

“Man, I'm starting to see why you hate your cone so much!” Vivi laughed, ruffling Mystery’s fur on his head as much as she could. Mystery huffed in indignation, leaning into the touch nonetheless.

“I fail to see why I even have it in the first place.”

“Sorry, bud - vet's orders! Wouldn't want you chewing on your injuries while they heal,” she smirked, lightly tugging on his ears to stroke and massage them. Mystery made a disgruntled noise in his throat as he eased himself into laying down.

“I know, I know… But it's not forever. You'll get better, and the cone will come off, and things will go back to normal, you'll see,” she intoned, leaning back against the sofa while she continued to absentmindedly pet him. He could hear the edge in her voice, and knew she was saying it for herself just as much as for him.

Unable to sooth her as he normally would, as previously proven, Mystery settled for wagging his tail in agreement, letting it lightly beat against the back of her head as he rested his chin on his paws. A laugh bubbled out of her, and he smiled.

It would heal.

They all would.

[honeymoonjin]

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I just poked him,” you defend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, wow, that long, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You sniff and nod weakly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m gonna be a good slut for Sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That feel good, kitten?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You laugh. “You do that often, then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank Master,” V commands shortly.

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

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

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

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

“Too much,” you repeat weakly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your mouth drops open.

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

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

“Then we’ll stay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good, baby girl?”

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

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

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

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

“Ask nicely.”

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

“Okay, kitten. Ass up for me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[lokigodofaces]

thoughts on loki ep 2: the variant (spoilers)

under cut to not disturb your scrolling

Overall I enjoyed so that's good

Uh frick my mind blanked so sorry if things are completely out of order

I don't know, I expected the renaissance fair to be 2012 or 2021 or 2024 (Loki's time, our time, current time in the "sacred timeline"). So I was genuinely surprised when it was in 1985.

Ok, i really like the title card thing. And how the year scrolls around. It's a nice aesthetic touch there.

I wonder why the female Loki variant chooses her locations? Does she have a thing for renaissance fairs, French cathedrals, and Oklahoma?

1985 is when Back to the Future came out. And it's y'know, one of the most popular time travel movies ever. So I think they chose that year as a reference.

Again, not liking that the minutemen only have numbers, not names. It is giving me lots of Clone Wars vibes. If you don't know anything about Clone Wars, the clones are given number identifiers by the Kaminoans. Things like CT-7567. The clones would give themselves names (CT-7567, for example, names himself Rex). A really good sign throughout the series that someone is a sketchy person is if they call the clones by their numbers. The clones don't want to be known as numbers. They are people too, they deserve names, so they come up with all sorts of creative names (Rex, Fives, Cody, Tup, Hevy, Hardcase, Echo, Waxer, Boil, Wolffe, Jesse, Kix, Fox, Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, Omega, Tech, Matchstick, etc). The jedi respect this, and the only jedi that i can think of that called clones by their numbers is Krell, who fell to the dark side. the Kaminoans and other sketchy people all call them by their numbers and the clones don't like it. A big focus of the show is on the clone's agency (at the end, they all have brain chips that take away their agency and force them to kill jedi), and how the clones need to be respected. So for me to see in another series that people are only given numbers is bad. What's worse is that the minutemen are fine with this. They don't see it as dehumanizing or belittling. They are brainwashed into being okay with it. Which says a thing or two about the Time Keepers.

did. did the renaissance fair really have Bonnie Tyler's "Holding Out for a Hero" for their renaissance themed fight? Is this normal? Was it normal in the '80's? We saw later that the female Loki can do electronic stuff. Did she rig it to play it? For the vibes?

Also the stuff before the song was about fighting for a princess, and in the end she kidnaps C-20.

Okay, btw, I'm just gonna say Lady Loki for a while because no one has explicitly said Sylvie yet, so I'm going to refer to di Martino as Loki until she or another calls her Sylvie. Cool? Cool.

I was thinking the "Holding Out for a Hero" fight would be the roomba fight or something. It is such a good song that has huge potential for this genre. Why did they use it in a lame fight as that one?

When Lady Loki did the spell on C-20, it looked similar to what Wanda and Agatha can do. As in, it had similar visuals.

Loki reading a random magazine he finds while sitting with his feet on the desk bored out of his mind because he has to learn sh*t is a MOOD.

What is Miss Minutes? She can jump around anywhere, and pop into computers. But she can't be just a projection. She took the effort to dodge Loki swatting at her, so that may mean she was corporeal. She also could be something similar to the Kree's Supreme Intelligence?

So, did Mobius give Loki the shirt, tie, and slacks, but really didn't give him the jacket until they had to call him in? What? That makes no sense? Did the TVA not have any jackets with the variant label? Did someone have to custom design a jacket for Loki?

What is up with this show giving me things I wanted to see only in holographic form? First we saw Coulson's death, and now Loki in his Jotun form in a holograph of another variant.

Okay, Loki being someone the TVA has to constantly deal with is very on brand. Loki is a creature of chaos, of course he's going to unknowingly rebel against the sacred timeline.

Also, headcanon that the Jotun Loki we see is king of Jotunheim because that would be epic.

Also, for personal reasons I choose to believe there is a Loki variant that defeated the Avengers and immediately went queer rights.

Loki's reaction to there being many Loki variants. He's seen what his life is supposed to be. I think he is even more upset that the TVA often deals with him, that there are so many things that could have been instead if it weren't for the TVA and the "sacred timeline."

Also, I totally think Mobius was waiting for another Loki to show up to help him defeat Lady Loki. They get them so often, it makes sense.

Loki explaining the difference between illusion projection and duplication was great. And very helpful to me personally understanding lore. Also, Mobius, get your crap together. If you're a Loki expert, figure this stuff out.

Loki calling the TVA out on propaganda, we love that.

The wolf quote is actually very nice, I quite like it.

Okay, the TVA doesn't even bury or cremate or do any sort of ritual for their fallen minutemen, they just reset the timeline. Which to me seems like another way to show how little the TVA actually care for their workers.

There are statues of the Time Keepers in Ravonna's office. The camera pays extra attention to it. Keep reading for more about Time Keepers and cinematography choices.

What. What sort of relationship does Ravonna and Mobius have? What is going on there? I am really confused.

Who is this "analyst on the side?" What is going on there?

Ravonna is MEGA SUS. Along with that, the Time Keepers are mega sus.

She signs R. Slayer. Yeah. Slayer. Not at all subtle, Marvel. Letting us know that she'll do the deed if needed.

Mobius you are sending me mixed signals. What do you want?

Okay, Mobius saying Loki was a "cold, scared boy" and an "ice runt" and stuff was totally a jab at Loki being Jotun.

Mobius saying Loki is insecure because of Lady Loki is...probably true.

With the elevator, the camera stops and focuses on the Time Keepers.

The Creation of the TVA, the beginning of time, the end of time, all classified. That is sus.

Loki almost crying over Ragnarok was good. Let him cry over the destruction of his home.

Loki being the one to discover something the TVA had no idea about after a day is on brand for Loki. And it shows how the TVA really are vulnerable.

Mobius: Really? In front of my salad?

No but the object lesson was well done and actually did help me understand what Loki was talking about.

Casey! Casey drinks grape juice! Imagine how confusing this is for Casey though. Loki is captured, threatens to gut you like a fish (whatever that means), and now he's dressed like an analysist, stealing your juice box. Does Loki get Casey more juice?

Honestly, Loki looking at everything logically and scientifically is fantastic. Adds to the science = magic thing Marvel's got going on, since Loki is a sorcerer.

Loki saying volcanoes are cool is fun. I agree. Volcanoes mean the planet is geologically active, which means we won't die. Also, there is a volcano named Loki on one of Jupiter's moons. I wonder if the creators knew that and put Loki in Pompeii because he is already linked with volcanoes.

Mobius telling Loki to start off small and Loki completely disregarding that felt very personal to me.

Loki being absolutely chaotic and telling everyone they were going to die while speaking perfect Latin was iconic. I want more of that content. Let the man be buckwild.

Again, Loki finding something out after a day that the TVA never knew about is on brand.

"Be free, my horned friends, be free!" I love that way too much.

Mobius being obsessed with jet skis wasn't something I expected, but I'm down for it. Heck, even Loki admitted they were cool.

The discussion on beliefs is going to lead to saying the Time Keepers are bullcrap. Hopefully.

Grapes and nuts are "candy" on Asgard. So, when Loki was eating grapes in Ragnarok, we can interpret that as him eating M&Ms. Second, this might add to something I've seen around here. I've seen things about a book somewhere with Loki saying chocolate fountains are mythical (which is really funny to me). So, I guess Asgard really doesn't have chocolate.

Oh my gosh, so many apocalypses between 2047 and 2051...hopefully none of those happen in real life.

Roxxcart is probably part of Roxxon, something that has been around in Iron Man movies.

Lady Loki got the shovel thing from Roxxcart that she left in Oklahoma! The minutemen said it was from the early third millenia, which is where we are now! 2050 also fits that category!

I saw something about the file saying Class 8 hurricane...there are only 5 classes...which means this is a crazy storm.

Does B-15 want Loki dead? This is a legitimate question, because I think she does. Dead or pruned.

Loki looking around at the storm, I love it. This could be him loving science, or him missing Thor, since Thor creates storms. Also, at this point Loki probably things Thor dies shortly after him in the sacred timeline, so Loki would be particularly sentimental about Thor.

I love Loki drying himself off and not anyone else. And B-15 yelling about his magic. And Loki's motions are so fluid, it's so aesthetically pleasing, I love it.

Dudes, I thought B-15 was going to try to prune Loki when they were alone.

Okay, was Lady Loki bsing about the azalea sale, or does Roxxcart actually do that? I want to know.

Wunmi Mosaku did a really good job as Lady Loki, I loved it.

Loki being annoyed at Lady Loki and saying he understood how Thor felt, does that insinuate Loki can do what Lady Loki was doing?

B-15 and C-20 were both very shaken after being possessed by Lady Loki. I wonder how that felt for them? We've had different explanations of mind control/brainwashing/similar from Clint, Bucky, Daisy, Mack, Fitz, and Monica in the MCU (including AoS). I wonder what is specific to Lady Loki's possession.

C-20 kept going on about something being real. What was that about?

C-20 revealed the location of the Time Keepers to Lady Loki!

Lady Loki not wanting to be called Loki could be a sign she is Sylvie.

There's something weird where Loki's voice echoed around while the camera focused on Lady Loki. Maybe she's telepathic?

Someone needs to keep a tracker on people telling Loki this isn't his story in a show literally about him.

But, that does add to themes for his life, and how everything was always about someone else in his life. He was always a supporting character for Thor, for Odin, for Thanos. Now, even in his own story, everyone insists he doesn't matter.

I was wondering what the reset charges would be used for. I wasn't expecting a massive bombing of the sacred timeline! Wow! That was unexpected and I loved it!

Okay, this isn't from me, this is from New Rockstars. But to list all the places mentioned on chronomonitors, either bombed or not: Knowhere, Barcelona, Niflheim, Dartford, Phong Nha, Lisbon, Vormir, Thorton, Cookeville, Asgard, Rome, Sakaar, Barichara, Porvoo, Ego, Titan, New York City, Tokyo, Hala, Kingsport, Xandar, Beijing, Madrid, Portland, Jotunheim. Bolded are other planets. Those are almost all the planets visited in the MCU. So fun easter eggs there!

I like Lady Loki's aesthetic. The fingerless gloves, the cloak, I love it. And YES SHE ISN'T SEXUALIZED. So many genderbent characters are excuses to sexualize women. But Lady Loki is just as covered as the male Lokis.

Lady Loki just...left the time door open for Loki to follow...for a really long time...I'm worried he's running into a trap.

What is Loki going to do now?

Theory time y'alls: Lady Loki bombed the sacred timeline to flush the minutemen out of the TVA, leaving it defenseless. And she's gonna go after the Time Keepers themselves. We know she gets into the TVA from trailer footage, and that's what I think we're gonna see next episode. I think she (like the Loki we are following) is upset over the lack of free will, and she plans to change that. That's why she wasn't interested in helping Loki "take over" the TVA, because she doesn't want to become the leader of a new TVA, she wants it destroyed.

Alright, back to the Time Keepers stuff. They keep focusing on the middle Time Keeper. Even in the end credits they have a weird cut to focus directly on his face. I'm not 100% on this, but I like this theory. That face is similar to Jonathan Major's, the actor confirmed to be Kang the Conqueror in Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quantumania. Kang is a well known time travelling villain in Marvel. Maybe he is Kang, and is using variant versions of himself (that's a Kang thing in the comics) to mess with the timeline, and no one expects that from him. Also, Renslayer was his S/O for a bit in the comics, and they keep framing her in front of that one Time Keeper's face. I feel like this would be a good way to set up Quantumania and to show how sus the Time Keepers are.

Also, Loki was absolutely adorable the entire episode. And he got to sleep! Yay for him!

Again, I enjoyed, and can't wait for next week!

[aedwritesfic]

Hi! Can I have a Ginny x Luna smut story where they finally admit there feelings to each other and they are madly in love with each other and it’s at the burrow in Ginny’s room? Thanks can’t wait to see it I know it’ll be amazing! :)

Hey nonnie, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to reply. Thank you for your patience. I had so much fun writing this fluffy and smutty Linny for you! Once I started writing, I just couldn’t stop. I hope you like it!

It Happened One Night

“Shhh!” Ginny tried to suppress her giggles, but they seemed to be bursting out of her like a child’s accidental magic. She cast a silencing spell at the door and the walls, hoping their laughter and conversation wouldn’t wake the rest of the house.

Luna stood on the bed, her riot of blonde waves cascading over her shoulders as she attempted to examine the rafters for Blibbering Humdingers or other such nonsense. They may have snuck a bit more of the Christmas brandy than they were necessarily allowed, but honestly, what did it matter? They would be of age before the school year let out and there was a war on. Now was the time for teenage rebellion. Now was the time to throw caution to the wind—in some regard at least—and truly allow yourself to live. 

Smiling, Luna crouched back down on the bed and continued her animated impromptu lecture on beings the average Wix could not see. Ginny tried to pay attention, she really did, but she found herself completely captivated by the woman’s hands.

Long, pale fingers danced along to her lilting ethereal voice, almost telling a story of their own. The still slightly pink scar on the side of the left index finger from an incident with a bread knife last summer, the almost translucent smattering of white-blonde hair along the knuckles, the deep lines on her palm that Ginny had studied during Divination, it all told the story of a life well-lived. A life that Ginny had been privileged enough to be involved in.

Luna’s hand accidentally brushed against Ginny’s and without thinking, Ginny captured it, lacing their fingers together tanned and freckled against alabaster. She allowed herself to gently manipulate the other woman’s hand, transfixed by the beauty and the power someone so light and unassuming could possess. With those hands, Luna could build something beautiful or tear everything down. People at school had been horrible to Luna, yet every day, she chose to share kind words, lend a hand, and love unconditionally. It was a marvel.

Ginny hadn’t noticed the stillness that came over the room. It wasn’t until Luna gently pulled her hand away that she came back to herself. Ginny blushed furiously and tried to think up an excuse as to why she had just been playing with her best friend’s hand.

Before she could say anything though, Luna leaned forward and tucked a strand of coppery red hair behind Ginny’s ear. “Please don’t,” she whispered almost shyly. “Not unless you mean it.”

“What?” Ginny asked, shifting under her friend’s penetrative gaze.

“There was a fire in your eyes,” she explained quietly, crawling over to sit beside Ginny. “You’re slightly impulsive, now especially because of the brandy, and whatever it was that flashed through your head… if you acted upon it, I think you would regret it later.”

She straightened her shoulders, sitting up a bit further. “I’ve never regretting anything a day in my life.”

“No, you haven’t,” she sighed. “But I don’t think it would be wise. There are too many Wrackspurts about as it is. I’d rather not have to deal with an infestation.”

“Why would you have to deal with Wrackspurts, Luna?” she murmured.

“Because whatever it was you were going to do, I doubt that you would have really meant it, and that would… that would be cause enough for an infestation.”

Ginny’s breath caught in her throat. For years, she had quietly harboured a crush on her best friend in the entire world. Luna had never shown any romantic interest in anyone and so she had just assumed that such things didn’t matter to the woman. Ginny had stopped herself from saying anything so many times, had forced herself to attempt to move on, but no matter how hard she tried, her heart always beat for Luna.

Turning to face her friend, Ginny grabbed Luna’s hand again, squeezing gently. “Luna, what makes you think that I wouldn’t mean it? I’ve…” she took a deep breath, pushing away her nerves and throwing caution to the wind. “Luna, I have cared for you for so long. Why would I lie to you?”

Luna smiled sadly, “I know that you would never intentionally say or do anything to hurt me, but—”

Ginny couldn’t stand it any longer. She surged forward, capturing Luna’s face in her hands and rested their foreheads together brown eyes staring imploringly into silver. Merlin, Ginny could get lost in those eyes that so resembled the early morning mist.

“Do you really not know?” she whispered. “You know so much about the world, you see what others don’t even bother to take the time to look for, and yet you really don’t know just how wholly you affect me?”

Luna sat back a little, cocking her head to the side like she did when she was drawing a conclusion. “You love me.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“As more than just friends.”

Ginny nodded and vigorously tried to blink away the tears that threatened to spill over. “I do. And, I completely understand that you don’t feel the same or are even remotely interested in anything other than friendships. I just… How can you think that I don’t mean every single thing that I’ve ever said to you? Every touch that I’ve given you?”

“No one has ever wanted to be more than friends with me before,” Luna said in a small voice.

“Well, I have.”

Luna stared up at her, a calculating look flitted across her face as she took in all the data that surrounded her: the slight tremble in Ginny’s hands, her eyes which implored Luna to believe, the way she bit her lip at the bottom left corner like she did whenever she was nervous.

“I didn’t realize…” Luna whispered. “You’ve only been with men, so I never thought—”

Again, Ginny reached for her hand, holding it between her own, cradling it as though it were something precious. “I couldn’t give a shit about what’s between someone’s legs. It’s about the person. I’ve loved you for so long Luna, but I thought you weren’t… interested in that type of thing.”

A pretty pink flush stained Luna’s cheeks. “Not usually, no. But it’s different with you. I can’t quite describe it, but it’s like all the rules change when it comes to you.” She averted her eyes and bit her pretty pink lip as if trying to decide whether or not to share a secret. But after a moment, she leaned in close and whispered against Ginny’s ear—the warmth of her breath tickling freckled flesh, “You make me feel safe.”

Before Ginny could fully grasp those words, Luna’s hands came up to run through her fiery locks tugging gently at the roots. She sighed and leaned into the touch. Luna knew that she loved having her hair played with. Ever since they were girls, the two had constantly been braiding each other’s hair or just touching it absentmindedly. But now, this touch, it was completely different. The pull was purposeful, it was meant not to calm or play, but to arouse. She allowed Luna to guide her so their lips were only a hairsbreadth apart.

“I love you, Ginevra,” Luna sighed before crashing their lips together in a searing kiss.

Ginny had experienced many first kisses in her sixteen years, some tentative and sweet, some passionate and sloppy. None of them had prepared her for this. They had not prepared her for the overwhelming softness of Luna’s lips, the way Luna seemed to be embracing her soul, not merely pressing her lips or shoving her tongue into Ginny’s mouth. She wasn’t being kissed. She was sharing a kiss. Though earnest, it didn’t feel as though Luna was trying to conquer or lay claim to her. It felt like they were joining together and making something brand new.

Ginny wound her arms around Luna’s waist and drew the woman into her lap, soft thighs straddling her athletic hips. She didn’t want to rush things, but the pool of heat in her core begged her to get closer, touch, taste, feel. But she held back. Luna said that she wasn’t normally interested in these sorts of things. She wasn’t going to push, no matter how badly she wanted to.

As if reading her thoughts, Luna pulled back slightly, breaking their kiss. Staring deeply into her eyes, Luna moved Ginny’s hands from her waist to breasts. “I want you to touch me,” Luna murmured. “Will you make me feel good?”

The breath caught in Ginny’s throat. “Are you sure?”

The woman smiled serenely and nodded. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to.”

Ginny groaned, burying her face in the crook of Luna’s neck. She allowed herself to become intoxicated by the woman’s words.

“I’ve sometimes touched myself at night, wishing that my fingers were yours. It was nice, but I got the feeling that it would have been exquisite if you were the one actually doing the touching. That maybe then, I would really know what the fuss was all about.”

Sitting up, Ginny stared deeply into her friend’s eyes, that in the dark of her bedroom looked like starlight. “Luna, I haven’t actually touched a woman before. I don’t know if I’ll—”

Luna silenced her with a kiss before moving Ginny’s hand back to her breast and squeezing.

“Are you sure?” she asked again, wanting to make sure Luna understood. “It’s okay if sex isn’t something you find enjoyable. We don’t need to do anything that you’re not interested in.”

“Just touch me how you touch yourself,” Luna said breathily as Ginny’s deft fingers absently plucked at her nipple. “If we don’t like it we’ll stop.”

Not giving Ginny another chance to speak, Luna leaned forward and placed a kiss just below her ear, on top of the smattering of freckles that resembled the Pleiades. Ginny gasped and allowed her hands to start slowly unbuttoning Luna’s pyjama top. She marvelled at the pale smooth skin as gooseflesh rose beneath her touch. It was perfect, and she longed to leave her mark.

Unwilling to wait any longer, Ginny trailed hot open-mouthed kisses down Luna’s chest, from the place where shoulder meets neck, down the clavicle in the valley between the woman’s ample breasts. She darted out her tongue and allowed it to ascend the swell of flesh that led to the rosey mountain’s peak, cataloguing every moan and sigh she wrenched from Luna’s lips. Her fingers played with the twin’s peak, plucking and caressing.

Without even realizing it, the women had tumbled backwards onto the bed, Ginny nestled into the perfect cradle of Luna’s thighs. Luna gasped and arched when Ginny blew cold air against a pebbled nipple, hips bucking against Ginny’s own as if they were crying out for attention too. Luna moaned something under her breath. With a slight shiver, their remaining clothing disappeared leaving them bare.

Ginny took a moment to revel in the sparking rush she felt in every place their bodies touched. Skin on skin. All of it. At last. She drew up level with Luna and kissed her firmly, unable to think of anything else she would rather be doing until the woman broke the kiss with a desperately pleading, “Please.”

Unable to resist the temptation any longer. Luna’s breasts had tasted like strawberries picked at the height of summer and she needed to know if the rest of her tasted just as sweet. Ginny dove down, placing kisses and caresses along the way before coming to rest at the thatch of golden curls between her friend’s—her lover’s—legs. She looked up into grey eyes, silently asking one more time.

Luna reached down and buried a hand in Ginny’s hair, using it to direct the woman to her wanting core.

Ginny paused for a moment. She closed her eyes and tried to recall the few times anyone had ever kissed her there. What she had liked. What she had wished they had done. Ginny allowed herself only a second to marvel at the beauty of Luna’s cunt. How it glistened with arousal just for her. Knowing that she had done this. That she was the reason her friend was wet was because of her. That knowledge bolstered her confidence and pushed her forward as she licked Luna firmly from opening to clit, stopping only to suck gently on the perfect bud.

The reaction was instantaneous. Luna bucked her hips so violently that Ginny had to press down on the woman’s hips to keep her in place. When another lick brought on the same reaction along with a litany of moaned nonsense, Ginny hooked Luna’s knees over her shoulders and pulled her lover even closer to her by the hips, feasting on her lover’s pretty pink quim.

Not being able to resist, Ginny reached down to her own aching cunt and began rutting against her palm. The delightful friction had her moaning against Luna’s clit. Luna’s grip tightened in her hair, almost painfully as the woman screamed out her orgasm, squirting her release onto Ginny’s mouth and chin. The rush of warm liquid combined with the sounds of ecstasy and the delightful friction of her palm sent her over the edge, quivering and panting against Luna’s thigh.

The next thing she knew, gentle hands pulled her up into a warm embrace. Sweet words of praise were murmured into her hair while fingers lightly caressed her skin. When she came back to herself, Luna brushed the hair away from Ginny’s eyes and placed a soft kiss on lips still damp from her own release.

“You’re perfect,” Ginny whispered, clutching Luna close.

The woman hummed. “No, my love. We are perfect together.”

[obutsuwrites]

work friends (miruko x reader, part 2)

summary: basically, miruko convinces reader to meet at the mall. possessive behavior and fingering ensue. 

warnings: light dom/sub, thigh riding, face-sitting, vaginal fingering, mommy kink

part one

my ao3 for more shitposts

my ko-fi~!

word count: 3,729

A high-pitched chirp pierced the woman’s dreamless sleep. Setting such a deafening ringtone was supposed to be an advantage. Hot stories don’t stop once night falls, an unfortunate truth the woman had already learned. The woman rolled over; tired hands latching onto her phone.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:45 am

ur laugh was almost cute 🤪

Speak of the devil, and she will appear.

Air caught in her throat, somehow worse than a punch in the gut. Crimson eyes burned in the woman’s mind. Cherry pits she couldn’t ignore. She exhaled. The act was almost orgasmic as greedy lungs resumed function.

What… what do I say? Naturally, words came to the woman like magic. A gift she attributed to countless All Might articles. All Might. His name felt heavy somehow now. The woman sighed and typed a short response.

「XXX」 | 12:47 am

This is Miruko, right?

Three dots appeared as half lidded eyes struggled to maintain focus. What does this stupid bunny want this late? Her mind felt fuzzy, as if she hadn’t slept at all. Exhaustion was rooted in her bones; a slow ache.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:48 am

wats ur addy

Of course. Wait. Is… is she trying to hook up? A lump of disgust and anxiety swelled within her stomach. Casual sex wasn’t foreign to the woman. It was a concept she celebrated, but the image of hungry, crimson eyes plagued her. Carnivorous orbs that threatened to eat her alive.

「XXX」 | 12:49 am

You woke me up. It’s *midnight*. I can interview you tomorrow.

This was a bargaining chip. Perhaps ignorance would save her. Or maybe I’m committing career suicide, she mused. Rumors and whispers of reporters doing “favors” for interviews wasn’t unheard of. Morality wasn’t a concern for the perfect article.

The woman stared intently at her phone, eyes bleary and heavy. Dread mounted in her stomach as minutes passed. The woman rubbed her eyes. Maybe she’s asleep already. The thought brought her comfort as sleep dusted over her. Fatigue had won.

≛

A hearty exhale left the woman as throbbing muscles stretched against morning light. Another dreamless sleep with a side of awkward sleeping positions. Nothing out of the ordinary for her. She layed in bed, determined to absorb the early sunlight. Eventually, the woman rolled over and began to check emails. Ignorance was a blessing. The woman’s phone vibrated in her hand, the motion jarring and obnoxious. Right. The rabbit.  

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 - INCOMING CALL

Red eyes flashed through her mind. Soft hands trembled, knuckles white and taunt. Her finger hovered over the answer button. The notification was imposing; a beast that dwarfed her. An electrical wave crept through the woman’s spine. Anxiety now rooted in her stomach.

“H-hello?”

The pro hero snickered. “Finally ya answer, kit. Think you owe me your name for the wait.” She could almost feel Miruko’s hot breath through the phone. A sweltering gust that starved the room of oxygen.

The woman swallowed, saliva thick and tongue bulky. She muttered her name like a prayer.

“Cute name, kit. You never replied to my text. Still game?” Miruko’s voice cut into the word kit, as if it were an insult. Belittling.

She shifted in bed, words unable to become tangible. Prey caught in the powerful jaws of a predator. Shivers continued to assault the woman as she opened Miruko’s text.

「UNKNOWN NUMBER」 | 12:55 am

watever. meet me @ hiro mall.

Hiro Mall. Hiro Mall! She giggled; the sound unnatural and falsetto. A laugh she hated. Hiro Mall was thirty minutes away via car, but… I don’t own a car. No reliable transportation!

“I don’t live near Hiro Mall. S-sorry, can’t do it.”

Miruko’s thin lips pulled a mischievous grin. “Don’t apologize, it’s annoying like that laugh. I’ll pick you up,” the Rabbit Hero insisted, tone assertive and deep. Like rich chocolate.

A sour expression spread through the woman’s features, panic in her veins. An icy chill ran into her skull. The beginnings of a migraine.

“N-no it’s fine. You’re probably too far away.” She glanced around, desperate to escape the call. “We can arrange an interview later in the week.” A mall is too unprofessional anyway.

“C’mon. I gotta scoop for you, little kit.” Miruko sounded almost eager. A tight edge to her voice.

Another laugh left the reporter as she spoke, “Listen, M-Mi-Miruko… I appreciate this offer I really do. I just can’t today. I have -- I have other arrangements today.”

The Rabbit Hero released a hearty chuckle. Playing hard to get, huh?

“Can’t clear your schedule for an interview with the number seven pro hero Miruko?” She teased.

She feigned a smile. “I did agree, didn’t I? O-okay. I’ll text you my address.” There was no escape from the rabbit. Coils of anxiety refused to unravel within her gut. Painful, hot bundles that tore into her.

“Good kit.” A click followed the rabbit’s voice. The woman released a pent-up whine.

Are all pro heroes this rude?  

≛

“I like your hat,” the woman mused, her sentence punctuated by a gentle chuckle. Miruko’s ears twitched at the sound.

Pro hero Miruko stood before her in casual attire; denim shorts, a plain t-shirt, and a brown baseball cap. It felt almost wrong to see the number seventh hero like this. Vulnerable. Human.

“That laugh was cute. Why don’t you laugh like that?” The ghost of a smirk rested against Miruko’s lips. Blush for me, kit.

A yell echoed through the mall before the woman could reply, “Hey! It’s Miruko! Miruko, can I get an autograph?!” Like magic, a young boy appeared in front of the couple, his smile was sunlight. Too bright to ignore. Pen and paper in tiny hands.

Crimson eyes observed the child with anticipation. She was not a rabbit, but a peacock. A peacock that revelved in attention.

“Sure!”

Miruko bent down and lightly grabbed the parchment from the boy; signing an indecipherable signature. The action seemed too gentle for the carnivorous woman. She’s creepy when she’s nice, the reporter thought as a shiver crawled down her skeleton. Like a dull ache in her bones.

The boy’s face broke out in a boyish grin; a smile too big for his face. Curious orbs drifted from the mythical hero and stuck to the unfamiliar figure beside the rabbit.

“Hey… are you a hero too? Are -- are you Miruko’s friend?” the boy prodded, his voice soaked in excitement and stars in his eyes.

The woman awkwardly shuffled and inspected her shoes. A pit began to widen in her stomach. The feeling left her empty and anxious. Starving. “Sorta. Work friends.”

“What’s it -- “

Before the child could ask, Miruko interjected. The woman’s tone was hard and rough, like sandpaper. “Sorry kid. We gotta bounce.”

Calloused hands reached for the reporter, finding purchase around her waist. A quiet yelp was exhaled from the woman; the sound sharp and sudden. Maroon rage bubbled under Miruko’s intense gaze as she ushered the woman away.

“Friends?” Miruko hissed, a dangerous glint in her eyes. The woman felt like injured prey, ready for the slaughter. “We’re not friends and you fucking know it.” Snowy ears twitched in annoyance. Little kit doesn’t know her place. The thought was venomous and ravenous; a lion starved and wild.

Her hand burns.

"Miruko… Are we not friends?" Curious eyes locked onto the rabbit. Begging for Miruko's attention. Was a pro hero a liar? Her brain felt branded by the question. Burnt. Ruined.

Large hands released the woman. Strong arms encased the woman; like a dragon hoarding gold. A wolf with teeth trained on a young doe. Poised, prepared. Miruko's heart threatened to leap from her chest, the sound like thunder. The woman couldn't ignore the roar against her.

The hero swallowed. "I want you to call me Usagi. No, Usagi. It'd sound cuter coming from you." Miruko grinned, lips too tight and teeth too sharp.

"Usagi, let me go. This is too intimate," the woman stated plainly. The situation was too familiar. Too similar to last night.

"You like my hat?"

Gross hot carrot breath.

Silver strands hung over muscular shoulders as a confident voice tickled the woman's ear.

"I'll try some on for you, because it's you!" Stars danced in Miruko's eyes. Crimson orbs now enveloped in joy.

≛

The couple sat on a bench, both parties tired from a day of giggles and coy smiles. Hidden signs of affection between the two. A genuine laugh from the woman made Miruko’s ears twitch in excitement. It was the same feeling she experienced before; the hero’s stomach was in knots. A hot, tangled mess that stung.

Miruko watched as the reporter gingerly checked her emails. She demanded a detour to rest and get her bearings. Miruko peered over her shoulder, unaware of the anxiety that began to bubble in the woman’s throat. Like mucus stuck in her nose. Thick and suffocating.

The woman turned to her, lips tugged into a curt grin. Too formal, too polite.

“I was thinking,” she began; still enamored by work, “you promised me an interview. We can grab lunch and I can pick your brain.” Finally, I’ll get my story. The woman vibrated with elation. It was a buzz that warmed her down into her bones. Her dreams were within reach; so many opportunities.

Miruko’s calloused palm slid across the woman’s thighs, creeping along as if to memorize the supple flesh. The rabbit wanted to bury herself between them. Pillowy thighs that touched deserved to be worshipped.

She caressed the woman’s thigh as she spoke, “Don’t live too far from here… You like your coffee black?” The hero’s casual attitude left a horrible taste in her mouth. A bitter, rotten taste. Miruko’s hand was scorching against her thigh, a juxtaposition to her clammy skin.

“No, tea. I know… I know of a cafe not far from here.” Words were impossible again. Intangible things. The woman’s sentence was punctuated with a shrill chuckle, another sign of internal concern. A part of her dreaded being alone -- in a private space -- with the hero. Famished eyes still regarded her as prey. Oval cherries.

“Got tea, too. I think you’re just scared. I don’t bite!” Much, Miruko thought, playful lips stretched into a lop-sided grin. She was desperate to taste the woman, to spread her apart and worship. Miruko kneaded the doughly flesh underneath her, as she waited for a response.

Finally, the woman looked away; too ashamed to face the rabbit.

“O-okay.”

≛

Miruko’s apartment was unexpected. It was plain -- almost unbelievable to imagine a hero living here -- much less the number seventh hero. The only noteworthy addition were flowers, as if the room had exploded in a bomb of flora and perfume. They looked out of place with morning dew still fresh on vibrant petals. Was she anticipating this? Hints of flowers assaulted the woman’s nose; the smell was nauseating.

“I redecorated!” Miruko blurted out, a move uncharacteristic for the headstrong woman. She felt exposed like this. The object of her desires was so close -- and yet the rabbit had to be vulnerable. It wasn’t uncommon for Miruko to bring a woman home, but a sea of flowers wasn’t her normal. She was inexperienced in...  this. The hero’s heart began to tremble again, the sound booming, leaving her breathless.

The woman only nodded, as if aware of the lie. “Flowers are pretty, aren’t they? I suppose we can start with the first question; Miruko… you don’t have a scoop for me, d-do you?” Her voice faltered as the woman lost her conviction. Plush lips quivered, afraid of the answer.

Her lips look so soft. Without thinking, a tanned finger brushed against the woman’s lips. Miruko quickly withdrew her hand. A muted pink dusted her cheeks, like a child caught. The hero’s snowy ears burned with embarrassment.

“Do it again.”

“What?” Miruko asked, hungry eyes wide. Saliva pooled in her mouth. A predator drooling over wounded prey.

“D-do it a-again.” The woman’s tone was pleading, in need of attention.

My attention, Miruko thought as she swiped a thumb across delicate lips. The flesh reminded the rabbit of her thighs. A familiar heat began to pool in the bottom of her stomach. The rabbit inched closer; the woman’s chin cradled in her palm, thumb still caressing her lips like ritual. Touching the woman was electric. A shock that left Miruko in a daze of want.

Hot breath tickled the woman’s nose as Miruko spoke, “I’m going to kiss you.” Chapped lips collided against the woman. The kiss was forceful and hungry. A lion finally ravishing a meal. Miruko continued to lean into her, as if trying to establish dominance. Gentle hands rested against the rabbit’s toned chest. Miruko tasted like carrots and mint. An obvious attempt to hide the vegetable. The weight of Miruko caused the woman to stumble, and the pair landed awkwardly on the carpeted floor. Miruko landed on top of the woman, hard muscles pressed against delicate flesh.

“Sorry, kit. Guess I got a little too excited. Are you okay?” Miruko’s tone was laced with worry. The genuine concern was new to the woman. Humanizing. Patches of red decorated the woman’s cheeks and her heart pounded against her ribcage like a drum. The sound was deafening.

Red orbs watched with interest and long strands of silver hair settled across small shoulders. Her hair tickled. The woman tried to stifle a chuckle and nodded, even now her soft frame was dwarfed by the hero.

Abruptly, Miruko kissed her again, grinding wide hips into the woman. The rabbit’s hands transversed the woman’s body, starving for her touch. Calloused palms cupped large breasts and massaged. Miruko’s touch wasn’t gentle like a lover’s, but rough and greedy. An involuntary moan slipped from the woman, who was now unable to keep composure. The hero took advantage; seeing the moment of weakness as an opportunity, and jammed a wet tongue into her mouth. Miruko’s hot tongue explored the damp chasm. She wanted to commit every part of the woman to memory.

The rabbit pulled away, the act only to allow her companion fresh air. Lungs gasped for air. Hungry and starved. Before she could force in another lungful, Miruko pressed further against her, and roughly grabbed tiny wrists. The woman was puzzled by the action until she felt the warm presence of Miruko’s finger hooked around her waistband. Miruko licked her lips in anticipation as drool threatened to leak out.

Crimson orbs locked onto the woman, as if to ask permission.

“Please,” she begged. Her voice was small and quiet. Too ashamed to admit the burning ache that settled into her core. The need for Miruko hurt. The woman was racked with impatience. She wanted needed the hero’s greedy fingers in between her.

A thunderous laugh vibrated from Miruko as she discarded the woman's undergarments. “You’re so cute. Submissive and begging for Miruko the hero.” The rabbit shoved a thick finger in between large thighs -- thighs Miruko wanted to dig into. Miruko’s finger curled inside the woman’s craving, wet core. Vicious teeth were bared in a smirk; she could just eat the woman. Devore her whole. On instinct, Miruko’s mouth latched onto the woman’s neck. Her pulse was rapid against the hero’s tongue as Miruko began to suck upon the supple flesh. Erotic sounds of pleasure escaped the woman. Her face was flustered and on fire, a sweltering heat that ravaged her.

Determined fingers pumped into the woman’s slickness. She lifted her hips into Miruko, franic for the hero. Her stomach twisted as shivers shot through her spine.

“Tell Mirko the hero how needy you are. Beg for me.”

"U-Usagi --"

"Miruko," the hero corrected, her sentence punctuated by a second finger. The sudden intruder caused the woman to gasp. Such a cute noise! Miruko curled the second finger and pumped both digits in rhythm. The woman continued to lift her hips, greedy for Miruko's touch.

A low whimper drifted from the woman, "Mi-Miruko, please, please, please … Kiss me. Claim me." She shrunk under the rabbit's gaze. The heat across her cheeks felt permanent. The woman quickly turned away, too embarrassed to allow Miruko a peek.

Miruko grabbed her hips and shoved the soaking woman against her. A small puddle began to pool against the rabbit's shorts. The woman -- too enthralled by Miruko's fingers -- was blissfully unaware of her mess. Delicate wrists were released as sturdy hands palmed the wet spot.

"Look at what you did, kit," Miruko said, placing the woman's hand against the puddle. Gentle orbs locked onto the mess; her cheeks now a vibrant red. Like poppies on her cheeks. She quickly withdrew her hand; as if the puddle was fire.

The woman's voice was muffled and hushed. "I’m s-sorry…” she mumbled, her face hidden by trembling hands. Embarrassment was segmented back into her reality; the woman left too conscious of Miruko’s gaze. It was uncommon for strangers to see the woman so… exposed. Even past lovers weren’t afforded the treat.

“You’re just leaking for me. So fucking wet for Miruko.” She wiped a finger across the mess and used another hand to free the woman’s sight. “I want you to watch.” Miruko’s sentence was entwined with lust. An insatiable need. The rabbit brought her juice stained finger to her mouth and sucked, cannibalistic red eyes locked on the woman. Her pink tongue swirled around the digit. A line of saliva connected the rabbit’s finger as she slowly dragged the apendenge from her mouth. After teasing the woman, Miruko shoved the spit covered digit into the woman. Her cunt now ached with three thick fingers. It felt like too much; her core stretched around Miruko.

The hero didn’t continue to finger fuck the woman. Like a predator playing with injured prey. Enjoying her meal.

Pleading eyes bore into Miruko as she pulled her soaked fingers from the woman. Lips held a dirty smirk. “Rub your clit against my thighs, mommy wants to feel your cunt.” The woman winced at the word. It sounded so dirty, so inappropriate… and yet she shivered at the hero’s words. Desperate for relief, desperate for stimulation; the woman began to rub her slickness against the hero’s exposed thigh. Her face almost sizzled with a crimson blush. She felt the heat up to her ears. Molten lava.

The woman was unable to face Miruko’s starving eyes. Cherries that wanted to rip and tear into her. Muffled sobs racked the woman; the sensations of embarrassment and pleasure blended together in a blur of pathetic arousal. Her body betrayed her as she grinded harder into Miruko’s thigh, the stimulation proving not enough for her swollen clit. The woman could feel the hot blood that pulsed through her core.

“Mi-Miruko, f-fuck me,” she begged.

“Look at you, kit, using such dirty words. You call this begging? This is pathetic. Tell Miruko how much of a slut you are.” Her tone was aggressive, as if the woman’s pathetic nature was an offense.

She swallowed, her mouth devoid of spit as she sobbed, “Please, Miruko! I’m such a slut; I need your fingers! Please, please, please.” The woman’s sentence was chanted, almost like a mantra. A perverted prayer.

Sharp teeth clashed against the woman’s ear. “Sit on my face. Wanna fuckin’ drown in you.” Miruko’s voice was no higher than a whisper. Like a secret between friends. Without hesitation, the woman nodded and stood up as Miruko positioned herself between pillowy thighs. The rabbit’s mouth salivated in anticipation. I’m going to fucking devour you.

The woman slowly lowered herself onto the hero, afraid of injuring her. She wasn’t small and fit like Miruko. She was big and jiggly. Like jello. A body Miruko wanted to grab fistfulls of as she fucked her into a mattress; letting the woman know how beautiful she was. Her aching, wet cunt finally made contact with Miruko’s pink tongue. Sandwiched between gigantic thighs, Miruko began to run her tongue down the woman’s folds. The woman released a lustful moan. She clamped a hand to her shy mouth as Miruko’s tongue slipped into her. She yelped at the sudden action. Miruko snickered underneath the woman, her sounds were like calls from heaven. Honey that coated her ears in a thick sweetness.

She worked at the woman’s mound, only encouraged by her lewd sounds. The woman could no longer muffle her moans; her body stuck in a sea of shivers. Her tongue -- her tongue felt so fucking good. Wide hips grinded into Miruko, hungry to have her tongue deeper within. Two thick fingers plunged into her hole, replacing Miruko’s tongue. The rabbit’s digits slapped into the woman’s drenched thighs. Her tongue wandered up to a swollen, red clit. She took the bud into her mouth and swirled the blood filled nub.

“F-fuck…” A long moan punctuated her sentence as Miruko began to suck on her clit; her fingers scissoring within her, stretching her. The woman’s greedy walls contracted around Miruko. The woman’s large chest heaved as breathing seemed impossible. Hot, short breaths mixed with wails of ecstasy. Miruko continued to suck on the woman’s clit, treating her puffy nub like a treat. Her tanned face now slick with the woman’s juices. The room was filled with the sloppy sounds of the woman’s cunt and her moans. Miruko’s ears couldn’t help but rapidly twitch, the rabbit almost too excited.

“Stop… stop, I’ll cum!” The woman whined, her voice lecherous and heavy. Like a fog. Her confirmation caused Miruko’s fingers to ramp up in speed, fingers now curled inside. An audible pop sounded as Miruko released the woman’s puffy nub. The rabbit’s sharp teeth grazed the sensitive flesh. She alternated between sucking and nibbling the woman’s clit. The woman felt an uncomfortable tremble crawl through her stomach, settling at the bottom. Her body begged for release.

A string of profanities erupted from the woman as she came, juices squirting down Miruko’s chin. The hero licked her lips, still hungry. With her moment of bliss gone, and her body weak, the woman gingerly stood up. Her ears and face were a bright pink; like cotton candy.

Miruko gazed at the woman, a lop-sided smirk ghosting her face. “You got me drenched in your pussy. C’here and clean it up, kit.”

[plush-rabbit]

Can I Ask You Something?

| Part 13 |

When he gets to his room that night, his head is pounding and all he can see is red, it’s bright and makes his head hurt even worse than it already is and then it swirls into a dark shade of crimson and it’s all that he can see. All he can feel is wrath, pure fury and he doesn’t know to who it’s directed at. It fills his body and he trembles, feeling it leak out as tears slip down his face and aggravate his scarred face. He thinks about going back and- and. He clenches his hand hisses when his nails dig in and brand his palms with crescents. He wants to throw the few possession that he has until they shatter into a million pieces. He wants to do something. His breathing is ragged and his skin is irritated. Sharp nails turn into claws and he hovers them above his neck. But then something flutters to the ground and his fury evaporates for a brief second.

It’s your note. It’s on the ground and through his glassy vision; he can make out the word “love”. It’s grasped carefully in his hand and he stares at it for a second. He retches and closes his fist and the paper fades away into filth. He turns to where he keeps the gifts you gave him hidden and he sneers. He rises on shaky legs and with a pop of his neck he makes his way to where the bag is safely tucked away but then his phone vibrates. His eyes are wide and his heart beats erratically against his chest, and when the phone is pulled out- it’s just a notification about a mobile game. He’s disappointed and his shoulders slump.

There’s a sudden moment of clarity within him. His skin isn’t irritated, he isn’t fueled by rage and hurt, he’s just tired. His limbs are heavy and the hand on his face presses its fingertips too painfully into his face. When he collapses on the bed, his phone slips and he hopes that it’s broken. He is lured into a slumber where he awakes in the morning shaking and gasping for air.

-

Shigaraki Tomura sits in front of a crowd of people who wait on his every last word and have a look of determination in their eyes, he’s introduced, he can feel the energy of the crowd and the only thing he can think of is how the brace itches at his still healing skin. He has his people by his side Re-Destro’s men at his will. He isn’t alone, he’s surrounded by people and they fear him and respect him. He’s lost people on the way and he’s sure that that won’t be the last time that he’s faced with death, but for now, everything is right.

The original members of his team walk with him, their postures still relaxed but eyes scanning everywhere, hands fidgeting and heads turning sharply when a person behind the scenes bows respectfully at them and scurries off. They’re all waiting for the joke to be revealed. Shigaraki doesn’t blame him- a part of him is also waiting for the rug to be pulled from under him. There have been so many low points during the League’s time that this almost feels too good to be true- it all must be a dream and he’s going to wake up cold with hands around him but then his brace itches and he’s reminded that it isn’t. If it were a dream, he wouldn’t remember his past life, he wouldn’t have a brace that digs into his skin, and a lone hand which remains the lone survivor from his family- wouldn’t be alone. He wouldn’t feel so alone right now.

“You know they gave us sushi? Next time, we’re getting something different,” Dabi speaks first and Shigaraki is reminded that he isn’t alone.

“I think the sushi was delightful,” Atsuhiro speaks up, his steps quickening to stand closer to Shigaraki, “I don’t know how you can’t be a fan of it,” he sighs, his hand coming up to swipe pinched fingers between the brim of his hat.

“I like the coat they gave me,” Himiko says in a quiet voice, stuffing her hands inside her pockets. “It’s nice to be given things, ya know?”

They all nod in agreement. It is nice. They’re treated and are going to be treated well here. Their new life here is going to be fine.

“You know,” Dabi drawls out, clicking his tongue, “it’s good not to have any distractions.”

“We aren’t going to.” Shigaraki casts a side glance at Dabi who remains unmoved. “We’re the Paranormal Liberation Front now, we’ll stick with the plan that we’ve always had.”

“We’re going to have to share our titles,” Himiko sticks out her tongue. “I thought we would be free to do our own thing.” Her steps are light and she

“Not all of us,” Jin pipes up, his voice with a smug cadence. His steps are heavy as he tries to get the group closer together, to move in a pack. His arms are held together in slings and he looks around and peers into open doorways where he mutters under his breath and twitches his head to the side.

Shigaraki glances to the side, and his steps come to stop. Everyone with him pauses and throws him a glance, hands reflexing and knuckles popping. “We don’t have to do everything alone. We have the resources now to move our plans further along.”

Shuichi’s tail switches behind him before coming to a still, “You’re optimistic about this Shigaraki.” He pauses and his tail comes to a still. “Is it because of those so called treatments you’ll be undergoing?”

A red eye twitches and chapped lips are pulled into a frown. “I’m going to bed.” Shigaraki spins on his heel and waves a hand dismissively behind him, “Don’t cause too much trouble.”

-

His room is pristine. It’s clean and the bed sheets don’t have a single wrinkle on it. The pillows are fluffed and look inviting and he’s sure that he if were to lay down, he’d collapse into slumber and wake up the next day bleary eyed.

He puts a heel on the leg of the bed and shakes his head. He turns around in the room and opens doors, inside is an empty closet that he scoffs at, shaking his head letting the door slam shut. When he passes by a mirror, he picks up a strand of his hair. It’s stark white. His mouth twitches and he lets the strand drop. With a heavy sigh, he grabs the last remaining hand and places it on the dresser, facing the fingers towards the wall as if that would give him privacy to the nonexistent eyes.

The room is empty- devoid of character and life. There are no pictures, no knickknacks- it is empty and the lights are too bright and make his head hurt. He makes his way into the connected bathroom and wonders if the others also have this type of luxury like him. The lights flick on without trouble and they’re too bright- too white and they shine on him and expose every layer of scarred tissue and heavy bags under his eyes. He looks tired. He is tired. He can’t fight back the yawn that escapes past the lips and he has to blink back the tears that form.

Water rushes and spills down the drain, the noise is the only thing that fills the room and he stares at it. He reaches a hand but the brace glints and shows a distorted reflection and he pulls it away sharply. The liquid soap is a bright yellow and he holds the bottle in his hand and it doesn’t decay. It’s of lemon and sage, and it’s oddly placed in this bathroom. The noise from the water stops and he’s left alone in silence with a hand soap bottle in hand. He places it down gently and walks out, letting the door close with a soft click.

He walks across the room and turns off the light and locks his door. His movements are slow and his eyes are beginning to droop. He kicks off his shoes once he’s laid down in the bed, arms outstretched and head resting on a pillow that molds into his shape perfectly.

He’s alone. He’s in the dark and he can touch and control his decay- and he’s alone. He wonders how fast the news has spread. He wonders if you- He bites his lip and drags his teeth across it, eyes unblinking until he can faintly make out the taste of blood.

“There’s no use in thinking about them,” he tells himself; his hands try to curl themselves into fists but he lacks the strength to do so. “I’m here now.”

His lips pull into a thin line and he grabs the front of his shirt and in darkness, he shows his teeth and his eyes are squeezed shut. He sucks in harsh breaths and his free hand reaches out towards father, two fingers extending outward and the recent influx of memories makes him recoil in abhorrence. He turns himself onto his side and opens his eyes.

“I’m fine,”” he mumbles to himself, the hand clenching tight fistfuls of his shirt, grows tighter. “I’m fine.”

He lies alone in his bed and he’s cold. He shakes and he swears to himself it’s because he’s cold. When he starts to tear up, he blames the cold that stings his eyes. He holds a pillow close to him and he bites down.

He allows his mind to drift. You aren’t here. He wonders if you hate him. He wonders if you miss him. He wants to laugh. The first time he has complete control over his quirk and he can’t even be near you, he can’t accidently brush his hand across yours or hold an armful of snacks without the risk of decay. Slowly, his jaw relaxes and he allows himself to breathe. His body is tired and his mind is utterly exhausted. You’re the last coherent thought that he has.

__

You wake up with a sore back and throat. Your mind is filled with and you look around in confusion, wondering why you slept on the couch but when your eyes land on a gray pile on the floor, that looks out of place in your home, all the memories rush back and you slip into the couch. You’re alone. Tomura is gone. For good, probably. Your chest hurts and you allow yourself to rest on the couch for a few more minutes, your mind and body trying to synchronize with each other. Your body is sore and tired and your mind is in pain but fully awake.

You lie on the couch, letting your eyes close and when your mind drifts to the events of the night before- you push them out and try to think about anything else. You can feel yourself be drifted back to sleep and there’s a dull thudding in your head that softens each second you allow your body to rest, when a knock on your door shoots you awake. You awake with a start and jump off the couch, your eyes wide as you try to comb a hand through your hair. Your steps are clumsy and you touch the wall with your hand in an attempt to keep you steady.

Hope bubbles in your chest and your hand shakes when you open the door. “To- Oh… Uh, good morning?” There’s a stranger at your door, she wears a dark coat and the chilled air from the outside nips at your legs.

“Hi!” her voice is polite and she holds out envelopes in her hand. “I’m sorry to bother you so early but it seems that I got your mail by mistake.”

You blink at her and when he hand jerks forward you nod and grab your mail. “Oh, uh, thanks.”

She gives you a polite smile that doesn’t reach her eyes and she gives you a small wave and walks away. You close the door slowly, and you slide down onto the floor, the letters fall out of your hand and land on the floor.

-

“We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again.” The voice is pleasant and fake. It feels like a slap to the face you drop your phone on the bed, and take a shaky breath, trying to keep the sickness that has been bubbling inside of you under control.

You’re curled in on yourself on your bed; the blankets make your body all too hot even with the fan on. Your head is resting on your arm and your other hand clutches the blanket into a tighter hold. In this position, you can feel your pulse. It beats in rhythm, it isn’t quick, it isn’t slow- it’s just beating. You’re alive. You always have been. You’ll stay alive until something happens. You thought something was going to happen that night. Where his eyes were red with anger, gleaming and shining brighter than anything you’ve ever seen. They held malice that night. Wrath. Hate. They held everything that you told yourself you never wanted to see from him. But you did. And now you’re here. The hands that touched you, hands that you swore you would feel like a ghost making claim against your body, hands that promised never to fade with their touch, still singed your skin. You can feel the roughness of them if you close your eyes for long enough. The heat of his breath, the way he drew himself closer to you and snarled his teeth at you as if you were prey and he were a predator. You were prey. You are prey.

Your pulse continues to remain steady with that fact in mind. If he wanted to hurt you, he would’ve done it already. Done it that night. Done it yesterday. He could do it right now. He knows where you live. You’ve told him in passing that you were a heavy sleeper. He could be inside, looming over you with a hand inches away- stop. You’re fine. You’re alive. Just breathe. In and out. Keep it steady. You’re okay. He isn’t inside. He hasn’t contacted you. His phone is- His phone is disconnected. You bite your bottom lip in a poor attempt to stifle a sob.

There’s a lump in your throat and your eyes sting. “He’s a killer,” you whisper to yourself. “He’s murdered people. He’s done bad things.” A tear slides down you face and burns itself into your skin. Your bottom lip wobbles and you curl tighter into yourself, the room growing hotter and chest growing heavier. “He’s not here,” you say in a shaky breath. “He isn’t coming back,” your voice cracks and you want to go and pick out the red blanket you lent him once. You want to bury yourself deep into the blanket and try to pick out a scent of his, try to remember him again. “He’s not here and I’m okay,” you take in a shaky breath and your pulse quickens.

Outside there’s rain- heavy rain that beats against the windows and wind that howls into the night. You have a passing thought that he might be cold but you shake your head. You can’t think about him. It’s too painful. Even with all the time that has passed, it’s too painful. Rain is pelted against the windows and a flash of lightning fills the room for a quick blink and then it’s gone.

You’re alone in your room and the rain is your lullaby, helping you drift to sleep.

-

You heard what happened. How there was a devastating attack somewhere that you can’t recall and if you were being honest with yourself, you don’t want to. A building was crumpled to dust, a peaceful town was broken and ruined- there were casualties and loss. Something big happened to him- you can feel in- that whatever that devastating attack was- he was behind it or played a part. There was a milestone in his life and you wonder if he’s all right. You wish you could see him, to hear his voice one last time but that’s wishful thinking that only leads to more grief that you aren’t prepared to handle. Something big happened to him and you can’t even hear him brag about it. Would he even have told you or would he have chalked it up to being an online game win- to anything else that would explain the glee behind his voice.

You miss him. You miss him so much that it hurts and if you think about him for too long, about any of the nights spent with him, tears will start to form and you don’t think you would ever stop crying. The time spent with him all felt so surreal if you think back to it. It makes your mind feel like its t.v. static; that none of it was real and perhaps it never was. Every interaction wasn’t with Shigaraki, it was with Tomura. You liked Tomura, you liked the side he had shown you, the harmless side where he rambled and ate your food, the one who wanted a blanket. But you didn’t know Shigaraki. You don’t know what he’s been through and how he truly acts when he doesn’t have to play nice.

Your hand shakes as it rises to your throat, clasping over it where his fingers once touched you. They were calloused, and his nails marked your skin. His hands had touched you; they wrapped themselves around you and then they were gone. The bruises remained, thin red lines marked you and you cried; and you sobbed as you scrubbed your skin, wincing when the water marked your skin in horrid red shade. You wonder if that’s how it felt when he scratched and picked at his skin. A compulsive need to want to rip your skin off until you were deemed clean, until you couldn’t feel his hands and when you laid in bed, you rubbed aloe vera on yourself, tears slipping down your face and off your chin, and you didn’t know what hurt worse, the events that had transpired or the raw skin that burned and wept. And it was all for naught, you can still feel his hands on you.

-

There are moments of weakness. Hours where you go over what could have happened and what you could have said. There are minutes where write down your feelings about and to him, the lines blur and blue ink spreads and then it turns to ash when you burn it in the sink. Your chest feels lighter and the tears don’t come as often as they used to. You wear turtlenecks and scarves. You go shopping and when you see a duck that resembles what you’ve lost, sadness and regret flashes until you’re dragged away by your hand, your friend commenting about getting a mug instead.

You sit at home, a black turtle covering the already faded marks and you bounce your legs, phone in hand as you wait for a message. You look at the empty space on your coffee table and sigh. It’s empty and it’ll remain that way until you decide to fill the space with something else- but nothing will ever replace the duck that you cared for fondly.

Your phone buzzes in your hand and there’s still hope in you, you eagerly check your phone- your hands move swiftly, grasping the phone tightly in your palms. Your eyes are wide and your lips stretch into a smile, your shoulders raise and you’re giddy when checking. And with just a few simple words, your shoulders slump, and smile falls. It’s a message from your friends. They’re outside. You tap your phone against your knees and you already feel dejected, your mood souring and plummeting. The spot on the coffee table will remain empty for today.

You take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds. When you release you type out a quick message, telling them you’ll meet them in a second. You shove your phone into your pocket and before you open the door, you curve your lips into a polite smile and walk out the front door and it clicks with a lock.

Tagged:

@suneaterofthebig3 @ maxinekotodama @ z-il

@rogueofbullshit @ juiccy-rollss @ choros-main-hoe

@loveableasshole @lilgaga98 @ princeofnonsense

@yul-is-sparkling@noonewouldlisten25@noodlenerd101

@localdisaster@snackgod@iikillerkitteh

@drapetomaniaac@shigaraki-is-my-master @ spaceman-main

@rekoii@ txmaki0 @katelyn-cuteson

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @ crispingloverscrispylover

@justoneofthosepeople @bloodyantichrist

@maxinekotodama @avada-kedavra-1998

[yandere-daydreams]

Written for an anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Drow!OC/Teifling!OC.

Word Count: 3.6k

Synopsis: Edel spent just enough time in captivity to know she doesn’t care for it. And, through careful observation and evaluation, she’s decided she cares for it even less when Jeret happens to be her captor.

TW: Non-Con, Blood and Bruising, Bondage, Mentions of Branding, Non-Consensual Touching, Dehumanization, Unhealthy Mindsets, Themes of Imprisonment, and Slight Mental Break.

Edel didn’t like feeling trapped.

Most people didn’t, but Edel liked it even less than most people. She’d always hated it, whether she was trapped in a cramped, mountainous cave during an untimely snow-storm or cornered by an opponent she didn’t have a chance of beating on her own or chained up inside of a dark, humid pit, not unlike the one she’d woken up in, today. It was a prison, she guessed, the point was to make her feel trapped, but Edel didn’t think she’d ever manage to give whatever glorified hellhole she’d been thrown into enough credit to give it a proper title. It was bad enough she’d been brought back to Velkynvelve, stripped of her weapons and her potions and given two pairs of iron shackles so heavy, just trying to lift her wrists or take a full step served to be a challenge, by way of replacement. It was worse that she’d been separated from the rest of her group, given a cell to herself with only thick stone walls and a tattered blanket for company. It was awful, it was degrading, it was infuriating, but there was one thing she couldn’t - absolutely could not stand.

Edel didn’t like feeling like a prisoner.

Somehow, she liked feeling like Jeret’s prisoner even less.

This was his work, it had to be. She didn’t know him, she wasn’t fond of him, but she loathed him enough to warrant keeping an eye out for certain details, to recognize the work of the man she’d never really escaped. It was every terrible threat he’d ever made, every vile thing he’d whispered in her ear, every laugh and every smirk and every possessive comment he’d ever made, after he decided his calling in life was to ruin hers. So confident in her assumption, Edel didn’t bother glancing up from the bare stone floor when she heard the jingle of a jailor’s keys, a lock clicking into place and a rusted door creaking open as calm, measured footsteps approached her chosen safe-haven in the farthest corner. She thought about looking away, by the time polished boots came into view, but she couldn’t swallow enough of her pride to give him that small of a victory. Just the hint of his presence renewed her anger, stoking her rage as a hearth-keeper would stroke a pit of lively embers.

Predictably, hearing his voice did little soothe her temper.

“Mornin’, firefly,” Jeret started, not bothering to spare her the pretense of faux-levity. “Did somebody need her beauty sleep?”

At least he wasn’t trying to play nice.

“You bastard--” She could barely begin to voice her muddled thoughts before nimble fingers entangled themselves in her hair, nails digging into her scalp and chains rattling as he jerked her upward, forcing her spine straight and a small, pained whimper from the back of her throat. Despite his time in captivity, his strength hardly seemed diminished - what he’d lost replaced by the cruel, cold satisfaction of having his captive-turned-captor once again under his heel. She was familiar with the feeling, despite her loathing for the man. She’d spent his interrogations in an over-zealous haze, but her righteousness had been earned. He’d imprisoned her, first. He’d been playing out his sadistic fantasies, and she’d been avenging herself and her comrades. The two barely warranted comparison, beyond first glance.  “Let me go!” She didn’t try to stop herself from yelling, why would she? If he had a deeper, darker dungeon to shove her into, she doubted he would waste his time with a holding-cell. “You don’t have the right to touch me--”

“You’re really gonna make me go through this again, huh?” There was a heavy sigh, a slight tilt to his posture as he rolled his eyes, but he didn’t move to release her. If anything, his grip only tightened as he wretched her higher, forcing Edel onto her knees just to alleviate the pressure. “Can’t say I expected anythin’ less,” He went on, a touch of fondness seeping into his voice as he watched her writhe. “It took quite a bit of work on my part to getcha back here, y’know. I mean, it’s one thing convincing busy men to take prisoners, but souvenirs ain’t that easy to explain. If I wasn’t so insistent, you probably wouldn’ve made it here in one peice.”

For the first time, she dared to look up, if only to finally direct her anger at something tangible, but she cursed her own boldness the moment their eyes met. 

It was easy to lash out at something cold and calculating, something abstract and swirling below the surface of stormy lilac, but Jeret seemed to be done playing coy, if he’d ever made an effort to. That, or he just didn’t see the point in trying to hide his aggression, anymore, his anger burning brighter than hers ever could. It almost made Edel hesitate to speak. She might’ve, if she hadn’t been so desperate to make herself seem as valiant as her captor. “Do you want me to thank you?” She spat, recognizing the condescension in his tone, the self-righteousness. “All you’ve done is earn yourself a slow death, after I get out of here.”

“Ain’t that precious.” Jeret let go of her hair with another sudden yank, but the freedom was short-lived. As soon as she could start to fall back, a fist was wrapped around one of her tethers - the leash-like chain attached to the thick metal collar curling around her neck. “The rat still thinks she’ll be able to crawl away.”

Now, she paused. It would’ve been impossible not to. “You’re… You brought me here just to kill me?”

Edel shut her eyes as Jeret chuckled, the noise slow, throaty, like the clash of metal on metal, like the howl of a blood-thirsty monster. “Sweetheart,” He cooed, sparing no amount of sickening, sickening sweetness. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over things like that. As long as I’m around, nobody’s gonna lay a finger on you.”

He tugged her forward, using just enough force to pull her off-balance. But, she didn’t have a chance to worry about falling, not when his free hand caught her chin, tilting her head back and giving her a perfect view of his grin, wide and just as crooked as it ever was, as it’d always been.

As it had been, since the first time she found herself at his mercy.

“This time, I think I’m gonna be a little more selfish with my toys.”

~

Meals came twice a day.

That was the only way Edel had of measuring time, now - Jeret’s visits, and how low the torch outside her cell got to burn before it was replaced. The food was better than it was during her first imprisonment, with Jeret being more inclined to keep her healthy now that he’d gotten it into his head to keep her, but drow ingredients were always remarkably bland, just teetering on the border between flavorless and inedible. Good food was a fantasy, by her fourth day, and she swore to herself that when she escaped, when she finally saw an opportunity to slip out of her restraints or drive something blunt and jagged into Jeret’s chest, seeking out a warm tavern would be the first thing she did. She’d thought starvation would be better than accepting his minimalist hospitality, for the first few days, and she had tried to stave it off for as long as she could, but…

Jeret could be persuasive, from time to time. And when she proved she could stand the hunger pangs, he’d set out to find something she couldn’t.

Three weeks in, she knew better than that, and submitted herself to gnawing on a stiff, colorless chunk of bread. Surprisingly enough, she couldn’t say that was the worst part of her morning.

That would be her company.

Jeret never failed to find a way to be close to her - it was something she noticed as he found an excuse to play with her fraying sleeves or toy with her restraints or just settle himself down at her side and stare on with a small, lopsided smile as she fought not to acknowledge him. The task was easier than it should’ve been, honestly. It’d always been difficult to get inside his head, but in his terrain, in a trap he’d been the one to set, it was all-but impossible, and she didn’t know what he could stand gain by watching her in tense, frigid silence until he was forced to go and tend to his daily responsibilities. Maybe this was his way of getting her used to the idea of treating him like a superior, rather than a source of irritation. Maybe he just wanted to get on her nerves.

In the latter case, it was working.

Given her situation, her isolation, Edel’s wisest choice was to stay where she was until her captor made a mistake, until her restraints were loosened her or his skepticism faltered or a chink in her cage become just big enough for her to slip through. Stay still, don’t cause trouble, then run as soon as she got the chance. She had a plan. She liked plans. It was a plan she wanted to stick to, too, but she hadn’t accounted for the identity of her captor, for the reason she was so desperate to flee, in the first place.

Silent or not, Jeret always provided more than enough motivation to do something rash, something dangerous. As long as it got her just a little further from him.

Ultimately, her resolve broke before her sense of better judgment could reinforce it. “What do you want?”

“Don’t want anythin’.” His answer was rehearsed, as if he’d been waiting for her to ask. “I’m just enjoyin’ the view. That a crime?”

The crust scratched her throat as she choked it down. Absently, she wondered how long it’d been since he’d last brought her something to drink. “Kidnapping is.”

He sighed, but the sound came out wistful, almost nostalgic. “There's no reason to be like that. You an’ your gang’s locked me up plenty of times, and I’m not holdin’ it against you.”

“You said it wasn’t about--” She cringed, suddenly, gritting her teeth as his fingers brushed against her tail, carelessly left to lay at her side. He was tracing the tip, following its spade-like pattern, and without thinking, she let the often-unruly appendage rise and whip, snapping against the back of his hand before seeking out the safety of her lap. “Don’t touch me,” She snarled, baring her teeth as Jeret barely tried to suppress a laugh. “You said it wasn’t about that, so what is it? You can’t just be keeping me alive to… to stare at me, for half the day.”

“Bet I can, if I want to,” He countered, shrugging causally, as if there wasn’t anything wrong with his answer. This time, when he reached for her tail, she was quick to pull it away, attempting to draw it behind her back, but he caught the shaft before she had the chance, taking smooth, sensitive skin and burying his nails into it, marring it, leaving small crescent-moons by the time her bound hands shot to his wrist and he reluctantly loosened his grip. Involuntarily, the appendage thrashed, attempting to free itself with harsh, graceless movements, but Jeret only clicked his tongue, eyeing her twitching tail as he went on. “You teiflings get a bad rep’, but I always thought these things were kinda cute. Fuck, might be even cuter mounted on my wall, after I chop if off your frustrating little body.” He paused, his gaze flickering towards her. “What do you think, firefly?”

She froze. Caught between the temptations to call his bluff and beg him to reconsider a threat she knew couldn’t be hollow, she didn’t know what to do - she couldn’t know what to do. Her tail fell limp, but that was hardly a comfort, Jeret’s full attention having drifted to her expression, to the way she'd gone paler than she had been, a moment ago. She opened her mouth, but if he really cared about her response, he didn’t bother listening. Instead, he was leaning in closer, watching intently as she fought the urge to flinch away. “You’re here because I want you to be here, and because if I didn’t snatch you up, someone else would. If there’s anythin’ I want to do to you, I’m gonna do it. And if you have somethin’ to say about that, I’ll take this--” There was a sharp jerk to her tail, making her wince. “--and whatever else you don’t need away. Nod if you understand, now.”

To her credit, she didn’t nod, not frantically - no, nothing about the gesture was desperate. It was slow, jerky, just bordering on mechanical, but Jeret must’ve found a drop of mercy in his shriveled, hardened heart - only offering a smile in place of a mocking comment. “C’mere,” He said, any trace of hostility gone from his tone. “Kiss and make up, before I say somethin’ you really won’t like.”

Taking a deep breath, Edel clenched her eyes shut, steeled herself, and did as she was told.

~

In hindsight, minding her manners might’ve been a mistake.

It felt like one, as Jeret ran his thumb over the space between skin and metal, the spot where her bruised wrists met cool, sivery steel, a layer of velvet padding the inside and a mantra of scrolling enchantments carved into the surface serving as a decorative upgrade from her last rusted, creaking pair. It was a gift, he’d said, as he forced her to stand and fastened the chain from a hook that was just a little too high on the cell’s stone wall. It was a gift. He thought he was giving her a gift.

They were supposed to be a gift, and although he hadn’t been so blatant about it, she supposed this was supposed to be one, too.

He was treating it like one, acting like he was going her a favor by digging his fingertips into the flesh of her thigh and encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist, to lock her ankles behind his back, to drag him closer and make things easier on herself in hopes that he might be kind enough to take some of the strain of her shoulders, her arms struggling to support her weight now that her feet her no longer on the ground. She’d already been stripped of the remnants of her clothes, promised something more substantial in exchange, but if Jeret had an intention of delivering his end of the bargain, he obviously didn’t feel the need to do so swiftly. In fact, he didn’t seem to feel the need to do anything.

Well, nothing she’d enjoy, at least.

“Thatta girl,” He muttered, more for his sake than hers. He was distracted, preoccupied, but she couldn’t seem to block out the feeling of calloused fingers running over her cunt, teasing her slit just to leave her equal parts disgusted and frustrated, or his touch, the way his eyes flickered from her hip to her collarbone to her cheek, his gaze soon accompanied by his free hand, his thumb prodding at the corner of her mouth, tracing the outline of her bottom lip. 

She didn’t think. With a half-hearted sense of rebellon, she lurched forward, biting down on whatever she could reach, but Jeret’s stifled grimace did little to provide the satisfaction she hoped it would. “Ain’t no reason to act like that,” He went on, pouting as he pushed a slow, forceful circle into her clit, forcing her to writhe and grit her teeth before he bothered to continue. “I’m just tryin’ to make things right.”

Make things right. Make things right. It’d been a miracle that she’d managed to find a healer in time to reverse the effects of his branding - his first branding, rather, the scarred imprint of the traders he’d been working for. It’d been blissful, the cool rush of a magic that could only do good, and she relished being able to run her hand over her thigh and only feel unmarked, untouched skin. 

Now, Jeret was going to relish the act of undoing her progress just as much.

She almost wished he’d just hold her down and stab something hot and glowing and searing into her, again. At least then, she already knew how long the pain would take to fade.

“I don’t--” Her voice cut off as he forced two fingers into her tight enterence, abruptly choosing to chase his goal in earnest. Like everything else he did, it was a lazy pursuit. Not ineffective, not unattentive, but lazy, slothful, almost idle in the way he watched her, his expression more curious than invested, his movements anything but impatient. She almost wished he was. If Jeret had chosen to take this task on as impulsively, as joyfully as he took on most, it would’ve been quick, it would’ve been sudden. She wouldn’t have to feel the dread welling up in the pit of her stomach, her nerves beginning to fray every time he found something new to play with and a slick, wet click echoed through the claustrophobic cell. That’s what he was doing, really - playing with her. Edel didn’t think she’d ever liked being played with. “You can’t do--”

“I can, firefly, I always can. I can do whatever I want, when it comes to you.” He pouted, shaking his head slowly, as he was disappointed she hadn’t come to understand him, yet. Leisurely, he pumped his fingers into her, setting his pace to something painfully slow that left her curling into herself, resisting the effort to buck into his hand just to get it over with. Even when he spread his fingers apart, when he aimed to scissor her open and make her whimper, make her whine, it was agonizing, the sensation falling somewhere between teasing and torturous. “What don’t you understand about that? You know I don’t care for repeatin’ myself.”

He didn’t, but at the moment, she was fond of the idea. She must’ve said it in a hundred different ways, ‘no’ and ‘don’t’ and ‘stop’, but Jeret never seemed to hear her, not as his palm ground against her clit, earning a shudder and a loud jerk against her chains, or as he pulled away, leaving her relieved and unsatisfied, at the same time. Any gratitude she might’ve found was quickly abandoned, though, replaced with the soft sounds of fabric rustling, a whispered curse as Jeret moved closer, closer, always impossibly closer. She wished he’d stay away. She’d wish he’d go anywhere but near her.

And, for a one traitorous second, she wondered why he’d ever bothered being so far away.

She shut her eyes as he leaned into her, his chest pressing against hers as he forced his cock into her cunt with a low, stifled hiss. It was awful. It was awful, and it was violating, and it was disgusting, but there was nothing Edel could do to stop herself from gasping, bowing her head as his hips grind against hers and he found a pace that suited his preference toward indulgence and his need to make her miserable. “That’s it,” He encouraged, his voice breathy, the words spoken barely a hair’s width from her ear. With his free hand, he pushed her hair back, over her shoulder and away from her face, but she couldn’t bring herself to appreciate the gesture. Not when it just made the callous brutality in his eyes so much easier to see. “Nobody’s gotta have a bad time, right now. You don’t gotta pretend to suffer.”

But she was. She was suffering every time he thrust into her, aiming for that sensitive spot inside of her, the one he’d always been too selfish to properly abuse, every time his head dipped and she could feel his parted lips against her skin, every time she felt his teeth. Compared to some beasts she’d seen, they weren’t sharpened, weren’t deadly, but that only seemed to make him more determined, to spur him forward as he bit down on the area just above her collarbone, on the tender junction of her shoulder and her throat, on her neck, delicate flesh tearing under his unexpected mania. She could feel the bruises forming, the blood dripping down her chest, staining evergreen skin and smearing across pale hands, as he absentmindedly wiped a stray trail from the corner of his mouth.

“Gonna mark you all over, this time,” He muttered, the declaration barely loud enough for her to hear. She almost missed it, she regretted that she hadn’t, but she had a feeling awareness wouldn’t make much of a difference, wouldn’t deter Jeret from fucking into her like a man possessed, from slamming her back against the wall and clamping down over her jugular. Involuntarily, she cried out, clenching around him, and Jeret let out a low growl in response, the noise reverberating against her, not allowing Edel to ignore the pressure building up in her core, the clumsy way his pelvis rubbed against her clit, the hot tongue soon running over her throat, all of it, everything. Every awful, undeniably, miserable thing.

Everything she couldn’t escape, even if she tried to.

“Never gonna let it fade again, either,” He went on, his tone softer, but no less pointed. Fond, but no less fatal. “It doesn’t matter where you are, doesn’t matter who you’re with, you’re always gonna belong to me. No one else is gonna put their hands on you, no one ‘xcept me.” There was a pause, a strong jerk to her hair, wrenching her eyes open. Forcing her to take in his crooked smile and the awful glint in his stare, whether or not she wanted to. “C’mon, firefly,” He coaxed. “I’m doing you a favor. I’m being loving. What do we say when someone’s bein’ nice?”

She could’ve struggled. She could’ve refused to speak, or cursed him out, or told him all the grisly things she’d sooner do than accept any of his favors willingly. She could’ve, but she couldn’t, at the same time. Her body was so sore, and her mind was so foggy, and more than anything, she wanted this to end. She wanted this to stop. She wanted everything to stop.

If that meant giving Jeret what he wanted, then so be it.

Her head lulled forward, coming to rest against his shoulder. She didn’t feel her lips move, didn’t register the words until they’d already passed over her tongue, but she could hear them, loud and clear. Her death sentence, spoken in her own voice.

“Thank you.”

[dayeemah]

All For You 2

Bts! Seokjin ®

Sick twisted story….  A one sided love

Talks of killing, actual killing. Graphic language and details.

Kinda smutty……

Part 1 < Part 2 < Part 3

Author’s note: If You survived the first part lol good luck with this one.

3 Months ago

"Y/N?" a voice asked.

I dropped my glass of red wine on the carpet, in shock as I backed up defensively.

"H-How did you get in here?" I asked,

panicking, my back touched the glass of the window, scared and afraid of this unknown man standing in my living room.

He was alone. 

In fact he wasn't armed at all. I felt my eyes get low, and my body grew weak. My legs wobbled from the lack of balance and I tried my best to hold on to something nearby but my vision felt blurred and small black speckles begun to cover my sight.

Thump

"Im sorry my love. Sleep well."

That was the last thing I could hear before waking up in a huge bed, alone, in a room that looked similar to mine. Looking around, the room had looked like I had never left my house.. It was creepy, how similar this room looked to mine. I tried getting up and moving but of course, handcuffs were attached to my wrist keeping me restrained. 

Whimpering, I wanted to look for an escape but paused when I heard the sounds of someone nearby. I could hear light steps in front of the door, the knob turned and the door creaked as a familiar figure stepped in. He was holding a tray of food, a glass of juice with a nicely prepped meal sitting in the middle.

I tried to but couldn't speak, I was truly in shock of what was happening. He took a few steps towards me before putting the tray on the table next to the bed and sitting on the side of me. 

He had a small gleeful smile placed on his face. He looked crazy and I had no idea who he was and what he wanted- which scared me most. He was dressed so formal, his white button up silky shirt tucked into his pants so neatly. His clothes looked pressed so delicately and carefully put together like god himself made everything.

"Don't be afraid. I'm here to give you all my love, princess." He spoke.

His hand reached up to rub my cheek as I turned to the side, my teeth reaching up to bite into his flesh leaving a shallow red imprint. His hand jerked back, mumbling curses to himself as he straighten his posture, looking back at me.

But then he laughed and smirked, "Understandable. I did take you against your will, however we’ll make a deal. If you do what I say, ill remove those." he said,

tapping on the handcuffs.

Apart of me was afraid, what did he want? I gave him a questionable look waiting for him to explain his offer.

"For the time of you being here, I won't have you restrained. I'd like to let you have freedom. The freedom to walk around this house and move as you please. I won't keep you restricted. This is your home now so I want you to get comfortable."

His face was serious as he looked at me up and down, his eyes taking in every part of me being restrained.

"What if I run away?" I asked him, breaking his sinister daydream.

If he didn't expect me to run out of this house after he unlocked these cuffs he'd be a fool. Looking out the window, it didn't look like a long fall, I could just attach these curtains and slide out and run away.

He laughed at me, taking the key out of his pocket, "sweetheart, even if you were to run out of this house you aren't getting far without us finding you."

Us?

"There is nothing around for miles but wheat and road. You need a car to leave this property. And by the time you actually get far away from the house, you'll be lost and on your way back here."

My heart sunk. Where the fuck was I ? And why was I here?

He sighed as he unlocked the chains on my wrist sitting the keys and the cuffs on the dresser next to us. He stood up heading for the door before turning on his heels and saying,

"Eat. Wash up then meet me downstairs."

-

"I hate you!" I yelled, slapping Seokjin, leaving a light red sting on his cheek.

He tensed up and I could see his head jerk back from the slap. He paused, his body taking a few seconds to recover from my hit.

"You say you hate me but you don't try to leave me" Seokjin yelled back at me.

"I do hate you. And I can't wait to leave." I shouted back, “Just don’t know where the hell I am to even try.”

Seokjin grabbed me by my wrist pulling me into his tight, tense space. His body was very close to mine, I could feel his heat radiating off his body. His heart thumping into my chest as he leaned his head close to my ears..

"Leave then."

I froze from his words, trying to process what he just said...

"If you really want to go. Leave and don't look back." he repeated, this time colder.

I swallowed and blinked at him in shock.

Just leave?

When should I go?

Did I even want to go?

He pushed me off him, making me stumble a few steps back before turning on his heels and walking out the room. I stared blankly at his now disappeared steps that vanished from the living room.

What was wrong with me?

I saw that he left the keys on the table just freely for me to grab. I tried to bring myself to leave but I just couldn't. I scoffed to myself and slapped myself over and over again.

"Stupid, stupid stupid" I grumbled.

This was my chance.

My hands traced over the keys and I brought myself to pick them up and stuff them in my pocket. But what I did even shocked me, I walked the way Seokjin left instead of the opposite way.

I'm such a fool.

I could've been free.. but I wanted to stay...

Why?

"I knew you couldn't leave him" a voice laughed from behind me.

I turned around to see Jimin and Jungkook staring at me with wide grins on their faces. I swallowed, wanting to give them a piece of my mind but when my eyes looked down I saw fresh blood on they're white shirts which made me hold my tongue.

My lips parted in shock and I backed up, knocking a few things off the table that sat against the wall. My hands slipped behind me to attach them onto the corner of the wall so I wouldn't fall.

"Do you want to join us? Y/N?." Jungkook asked walking slowly towards me,

handing me a knife, a dark crimson liquid dripping off the sharp object.

"No. Y-you're sick" I commented before running out the room and making my way to the stairs, hearing multiple pairs of heavy footsteps chasing after mine.

I felt a tug on my leg making me almost fall down the stairs. A pair of hands grabbed my waist and tossing me on their shoulder so swiftly. I screamed as loud as I could, not knowing who picked me up but I assumed it was Jungkook because of the monster strength he possessed.

"Jungkook please, Let me go. Let me go." I sobbed, punching at his back.

"Now what fun would that be..."

Hearing nothing but laughter as they led me towards the basement on the opposite side of the house. I started screaming louder as much as I could, hoping Jin or even Taehyung would hear me. But I knew I was done for it when the door clicked behind me, meaning it was too late, I was stuck here. 

Jungkook pushed me into the middle of the room, allowing Jimin to grab me. Smirking as he caught me, his hands holding me in his embrace as a devilish smile plastered his face.

I shut my eyes tightly, feeling Jimin back me up against something cold which covered my body with a shiver of goosebumps. Squinting as my eyes were semi closed, I was able to faintly see what was happening. Jimin had me against the exam table, straddling me, pushing me back against the bottom, and handcuffed my hands to the metal bars that were on the sides.

I whimpered, tugging at the cold thick handcuffs that captured my wrist from moving. Looking up to see Jimin towering over me, leaning in, he squeezed my jaw sideways with a laughter following.

"J-Jimin please.. Jin wont~" he cut me off,

by shushing me with his small finger that was covered in a dark red residue,

"Oh. Don't worry about Jin.. he's not here to witness what me and Kookie are going to do. This room is sound proof. Now be a good girl or you'll be next."

As Jimin walked over to Jungkook who was standing by a white curtain, I took this opportunity to look around the room. I had never seen this part of the house before and it was quite intriguing. Compared to the room Jin keeps all of his flesh carved hearts, this one didn't reek of dead bodies. However, this place was really scary.. especially the two who bought me here.

The walls were painted a eerie bloody red color, the lights were bright and blinked like the ones you see in a horror film. It reeked a familiar smell, the smell of hospital equipment and when I think about it, the room did resemble a hospital room which crept me out even more.

"Now.. Hyung why don't we show her a few interesting things." Jungkook chuckled, unzipping the curtain.

When my eyes met theirs, Jungkook pressed a blue button on the side of the wall, bringing down all types of sharp knifes he had hanging from above. My eyes widened in shock, I truly was terrified. I looked besides Jimins body, seeing a cops uniform hanging on a railing, blood drenched in the blue ripped material.

A tied up man was in the chair which resembled one of the cops that had came here last week. He had his mouth covered along with his legs and arms tied up so he couldn't move or talk. His head was dangling back against a wall as his eyes were shut. Dried blood was smeared all over the light brown ropes that restrained him which I bet he was tortured in before falling asleep.

"Now Kookie, pass me my branding iron, time to make a star out of this one. I always hated pigs."

Jungkook handed Jimin the hot branding iron, which was shaped as a star. My eyes widened, he was truly about to engrave a star on his sleeping form. Jimin looked up at me, a fearless smile frozen on his face as he pressed the red starred iron across his back, making the man scream in agony.

I shut my eyes tightly, wanting to cover my ears from his muffled screams. I could see the look in his eyes, so desperate for help, pleading to make them stop and it hurt so much to watch.

"Please. J-Just Stop." I begged, tears dripping down my cold cheeks.

But they ignored me. Pretended I wasn't there and just smiled as they continued. Jungkook, who looked as if he enjoyed it more than Jimin, decided to press the branding iron against the bruised flesh once more, but this time harder and longer than the last time.

His pale skin begun to smoke and small droplets of blood oozed out of his red flesh, dripping on the floor. My mind zoned out, closing off all access to the visual of this man being tortured. I couldn't hear anything but disoriented noises and a clear view of the blood dripping on the white marble floor.

I felt like my head was spinning and my body was growing weak, I heard noises and my name being called but I couldn't process what it was- or who it was. I begun to close my eyes for a second and everything went dark.

~

I woke up to the sun beaming through the sheer curtain, onto the pillow inches away from my face. I felt hair strands brushing against my neck and a light breathing against my skin which put me into panic mode. After the night I had, the last thing I wanted was a unfamiliar person next to me when I woke up.

Shifting my body so I had no choice but to face this intimacy I wasn't expecting, I became face to face with a familiar soul.

Seokjin.

My eyes trailed over his face. He looked peaceful and apart of me felt relieved he was here instead of someone else. His arm was still lightly wrapped around against me and I could feel myself melt into him. 

Not knowing why, I wanted him to just hold me as I cried.

I swallowed hard, slowly blinking and taking in this beautiful creature I call a monster because thats what my mind paints him out to be. My heart began to beat rapidly, my thoughts, my heart, couldn't keep up. 

I shut my eyes trying to stop my body from having their own imagination.

Why did I feel this?

Opening my eyes to him staring back at me which in fact made me stop breathing for a few seconds. I felt embarrassed, my cheeks were flushed and burning as I tried to preposition myself but he held me in position.

"Y/N. I'm sorry about yesterday." he spoke.

His voice was soft, groggy and I couldn't believe he was apologizing. I stared into his eyes looking for confirmation to give off he was bluffing but his eyes told the truth.

He was worried..

"I have already punished them for what they did. They are to apologize the moment they look your way. Im sorry." he repeated.

Our eyes met but for the first time, it was gentle. 

Soothing, loving. 

His hands rubbed my cheek and I felt frozen. This feeling I felt, it wasn't normal. I knew myself too well and this couldn't be happening. But apart of me wanted it too.

His touch was hot, set fire to my skin. His lips were soft, melting into me as my body molded into his. My hands were pressed against the pillows, with every kiss the grip tighten.

My tank top straps fell down my shoulders and if time was on my side, i'd rewind it to feel that feeling again. His lips turned my head to the side to taste, kiss and absorb my neck. My body felt like it had no other choice but to just dissolve into him.

His touch was beyond anything I felt before. It was gentle but needy. I couldn't contain myself and I became greedy, letting my moans cry for more. My eyes shut as his lips kissed me down to every inch and every want. His body brushed against mine with every second, and I couldn't help but feel myself grab onto him out of vulnerability.

Nothing but sweet whispers as he came back up for air, embracing me, holding me, loving me. Our eyes met once again and this time... his eyes darkened and I could see he wanted me as bad as I always wanted him. 

He kissed me once more, his lips capturing me into a dangerous game of emotions.

He stopped, pulling away then staring at me as his wide frame towered me. His eyes stared deep into my soul and his hands folded itself with mines as he spoke.

"Is this okay?"

~