#{{ kinks aside; i could actually go into full detail about how I think that being claimed and told he is someone's is }}

[frozenambiguity]

Sir Kaeya's kink of being claimed by his s.o. is getting mildly concerning...

[thewritingmagician2022]

You Refuse to be Submissive - Brothers and Dateables

Lucifer: Oh boy, talk about challenging because Lucifer is 100% going to take that as a challenge at first. He’s going to assume that not only will you not be submissive (which is a no go in his book) but that you also expect him to be the submissive one instead (absolutely not). There is going to be a lot of heated discussion there, I think. It’s not that Lucifer doesn’t want to respect your boundaries, it’s just that his entire personality is built on being respected and feared and obeyed so this is really throwing him off. The more you talk about it, the more willing he is to listen. He’ll never concede to being submissive but he will settle for equal partnership. You’ll probably have to regularly remind him of this because he’s going to unconsciously act in a very dominant manner sometimes but eventually he’ll learn and you guys will find a balance that works well for you both. 

Mammon: For the most part, Mammon is only going to argue on principle. He’s got to remind you that he’s the second most powerful demon in this family and he’s your first man; you should do what he says! However, this is definitely more for the sake of telling himself that he tried to be in control and assert himself. In reality, Mammon absolutely loves letting you take control. He’s used to his more submissive role in relationships and feels most comfortable when you’re putting him in his place. There’s something incredibly addicting to him about the idea of belonging to you, the sweet, loving human that wandered into his life and treats him better than his family ever did. So aside from that first perfunctory argument and maybe some sporadic little comments about how he’s “not gonna sub for a puny human if you think that’s what’s gonna happen” when he’s feeling particularly insecure, you have a perfectly happy sub of your own. 

Levi: That’s more than fine with Levi! In fact, it’s a relief. In most situations, Levi absolutely hates being charge; it’s too much pressure for an Otaku like him. This translates to your relationship as well. Levi is much happier worshiping you and falling apart under your words and ministrations than he would be ordering you around or calling the shots. Levi is quite the blushing but eager sub and he never fights you on the roles you’ve created for yourselves. 

Satan: At first, this is a tough blow for Satan. Not necessarily because he wants you to be submissive but because he doesn’t understand why you wouldn’t be for him. A part of him is going to wonder whether you would do it for Lucifer or if you didn’t respect him as much or a myriad of other things; this means he may blow up a little at first as he gets his bearings. However, Satan is also very logical so once you sit him down and explain that it’s nothing to do with him and just a preference on your end, he’s much more agreeable about it. You’d probably end up in a detailed conversation about kinks and boundaries so that way he can make sure you’re both totally happy with the sex and your roles in your relationship. I don’t see Satan full on subbing for you, more like an equal partnership both in and out of the bedroom. 

Asmo: You don’t wanna sub? That’s totally fine with Asmo! He’s the Avatar of Lust, he can roll with just about any and every preference you may have. You just tell him what you want him, how you want it, and when and he will do everything in his power to make all of your fantasies come true! He may tease you a little bit about it, in the sense that he likes to think he would be able to make you actually enjoy being submissive - especially if your reluctance is due to bad past experiences. He would want to show you what a real dominant could be like and how good submitting can feel. If it’s a hard stop though, he’s more than willing to take on that submissive role instead and won’t push the issue. 

Beel: Beel has never thought much one way or another about you being submissive. It was never anything he was going to ask you to do though, admittedly, he’s probably always seen you in a more submissive view simply because you’re so much smaller and weaker than him. It just seems like the de facto setting in that situation. Once you tell him you’re not interested in being submissive, he’s totally okay with it and will ask you what you do want. Beel is a pleaser by nature and he would be happy to take on the role, if you’d prefer for him to be the submissive one. However, I did think the sub/dom thing would very rarely come up for Beel so it’s simply not something you two need to worry about. 

Belphie: It’s a toss up for Belphie. He hates being told no and he doesn’t like the idea of being “forced” into the submissive role; there’s still a part of him that believes he should be in total control and that you’re just a little human that should cater to his every whim. (It really doesn’t help that he’s so spoiled by everyone and is used to getting what he wants) This can work in a positive way though because Belphie is undeniably lazy, which means he doesn’t mind if you’re the one putting in all of the work sexually. So, sure, he can lay back and be a little pillow princess for you. Or, if he has some energy and/or big feelings, he’ll be a very bratty sub and take great joy in harassing the hell out of you until he lets you put him back in his place. Basically, you not subbing is fine as long as you show Belphie all of the ways that he benefits from you taking on the dominant role. 

Barbatos: Barbatos was literally born to serve. He is a pleasure and service sub, through and through. That doesn’t mean he isn’t a little sadistic sometimes and he will happily “act out” if that’s something you enjoy him doing but, for the most part, he is incredibly happy in his submissive role. He lives to make you happy and feel good; in fact, being the perfect sub is one of his greatest achievements. He wants you to not only not feel bad about your decision to not be submissive but actually feel good about it. He enjoys being submissive and he wants you to use that to your advantage as much as possible and feel good about doing so. 

Diavolo: He is more than a little thrown off by your refusal to sub for him. He’s the Demon Overlord, King of the Devildom. No one would dare say no to him. Most people would give up everything they have just to be able to say they subbed for him. All that to say, he’s thrilled. It gives Diavolo such a rush to know you’re so willing to set your boundaries with him and that you trust him. And now he gets to explore an entirely new side of himself! The side where he listens to someone else for once and has to do as he’s bidden. It’s terrifying and exhilarating and there’s no one else he would trust to explore that with. I do think the novelty would wear off for him after a while and, yes, he’d still sub when you’re both in the mood for that but it would be an equal relationship the majority of the time. Diavolo likes to let go of control every so often, especially when he’s stressed, but it’s not something he can long term commit to. 

Simeon: This poor baby is going to be confused as heck when you tell him don’t want to sub. He doesn’t even know what that means and at first he thinks you mean subservient in a very old school biblical sense and he rushed to assure you he’s not looking for you to follow his every whim. Once you explain what you mean, he’s a little mortified but also turned on by the idea of being submissive for you? He’s always been in a submissive position, thinking about his father and all of that, and he enjoys pushing the limits so I think Simeon would be a lowkey bratty sub. He’s not nearly as malicious or tough to tame as Belphie but he does enjoy riling you by purposefully misunderstanding rules or using gray areas to his advantage. Mostly though he’s just happy to give you whatever you ask for because all he wants is to make you happy and prove just how good it can be to have an angel like him at your service. (The blasphemy of serving and worshiping a human rather than his father is also a huge turn on for him)

Solomon: Solomon is a happy switch so if you’re totally against subbing, he’ll take up the task. I think he would be the third “pushiest” after Lucifer and Asmo, in the sense that he really thinks he could get you to enjoy being submissive. I think he would try plenty of suggestions and wheedling, using his sway as the most powerful sorcerer, but if it’s truly not something you want to pursue then he’ll let it go. Solomon enjoys being submissive to you because, just like with Diavolo, it’s such a juxtaposition to his day to day life. He has fun with it and is regularly supplying you with new ideas or items that you can implement with him. He also loves being subby in front of people in subtle ways, just enough to throw them off because who would expect him to listen to a mere mortal human?

[writethelifeyouwant]

Always With The Scissors

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader / Dean Winchester x Reader / Sam x Dean Rating: 18+ Tags: sloppy seconds, voyeurism, angst, objectification of women, slut shaming, dirty talk, cum play, pining!Dean Word Count: 2.9k  Created for: @spnkinkbingo​ - Objectification | @negans-lucille-tblr​ - Man Crush Monday: Sam and Dean / Two for Tuesdays: Smangst / Sinful Sunday: Sloppy Seconds  A/N: Super big congratulations of 7,000 followers!! You deserve every single one and many many more ❤️

Dean has a very specific kink. He knows it makes him sound a little creepy... okay, a lot creepy – okay, he is actually a full-on creep – but he never cums harder than he does when he's inside a girl his little brother's just fucked. And it’s not that his brother has awesome taste in girls and Dean is just jealous and wants in on the fun too. It’s not even that he has a big kink for sloppy seconds. It had never appealed to him before they started playing this sick sort of game they’ve been playing since Sam decided he was over Jess enough to start sleeping around again (he knew Sam was nowhere near ready for another relationship).

Dean remembers eyeing up a petite little thing at the bar once and then noticing Sam checking her out not too long after. Ever the gracious big brother, and not creepily concerned with Sam’s sex life, Dean figured he’d bow out and let Sam take the swing at this one — but then Sam caught Dean looking at her too, and tried to back down to let Dean have at it. Dean couldn’t have that. So he suggested the ploy that got them where they are now, they play Rock Paper Scissors for the chance to shoot their shot; Dean always loses Rock Paper Scissors.

The part of the night they hadn’t anticipated was the girl they’d been ogling spotting them playing a game for the chance to fuck her, and suggesting that they don’t need to choose, they can just take turns. That had been the game changer.

Listening to Sam fuck her stupid through the wall of the motel room is seriously hot, and Dean has to fight to keep his hand out of his pants the whole time he sits waiting, hearing Sam grunt out filth that he never imagined he’d hear from his little brother’s mouth. And when Sam lopes back through the adjoining door between their rooms with sex ruffled hair and a smirk, with a quick aside of ‘She’s all yours’ before he ducks into the bathroom for a shower, Dean swears he feels his knees go weak.

Quick as he can, he makes his way into the ‘sex room’ as he decided to call it in his head, and found the girl laying in the centre of the bed, legs draped open, playing with the cum leaking out of her pussy. Dean has to grab himself through his jeans, scared he’ll come on the spot if he doesn’t cut himself off.

“You gonna fuck me or what, big boy?” The girl leers at him, and Dean strips down like he’s being timed and slots himself between her thighs and pushes home in one go. He finishes embarrassingly quickly, with Sam’s cum sloshing around his dick and leaking into his mouth where the girl had painted it on like lip gloss. He devours every drop.

Dean catches Sam’s eye from across the bar and nods towards the girl he’s picked out as a target. It’s a college bar, so Sam does the approach, seeing as he's the one who looks like he could still fit in here. Dean drops himself in a chair and watches Sam work, proudly — he’s the one who taught the kind everything he knows after all. He watches as Sam charms her easily, gets her a drink, asks if she wants to come sit down and motions to the table Dean’s sitting at.

“Dean, this is Y/N,” Sam introduces her, smoothly pulling out a chair for her and pushing it back to the table — a true gentleman. “Y/N, this is my brother, Dean.”

“Hey there,” Y/N smiles at him easily, and Dean can tell they’ve picked someone up for a good time.

“Hey yourself, sweetheart,” Dean gives her a wink and leans in closer. “So, Sammy tell you how we’re hoping this night’s gonna go?”

“He did,” Y/N nods and shoots a smirk at Sam, who reciprocates, and Dean feels his guts churning. “Said the back seat of your car was real comfy too,” she grins mischievously.

“Sam even puts a blanket down most of the time, real class act,” Dean laughs, gulping down more of his drink.

“Wow,” Y/N is sarcastically amazed, “you fellas know how to treat a lady right,” she sounds bitter but Dean can tell she’s joking. She wouldn’t have followed Sam over here in the first place if she wasn’t.

“We try our best,” Sam grins at her charmingly, and Dean can see Y/N melt a little looking at his baby bro’s eyes — he can’t blame her.

Several drinks later, Y/N starts getting handsy with both of them, and Sam suggests they think about moving their little party of three outside. They show Y/N out to the car, Dean opens the back door with a flourish and she slides gracefully inside, glancing back out with a hungry look in her eyes. “So, who’s joining me?” she flutters her lashes seductively, like we need any convincing, Dean thinks to himself.

“Sammy,” Dean grunts, making a ‘come here’ motion with his hands and then holding one out flat and the other on top in a fist in preparation. Sam sidles over to Dean, gait smug, like he already knows he’s gonna win and get first crack at Y/N — which of course he is, because that’s how Dean likes it. He holds up his hands in a mirror of Dean’s, and eyes not leaving each others’ they both beat their fists against their palms. 1, 2, 3.

“Ooh,” Sam hisses in mock sympathy when they look down and see Sam’s ‘rock’ beats Dean’s ‘scissors’. “Always with the scissors, Dean,” Sam gives him a condescending pat on the shoulder, like he doesn’t know what Dean’s doing, and maybe he doesn’t, Dean thinks. Maybe Sam truly doesn’t realise how fucked up I am.

Dean turns to head back into the bar as Sam slides himself into the backseat next to Y/N, but he stops in his tracks when she calls out the window — “Sure you don’t wanna watch, handsome?” Dean freezes, the possibility of actually getting to see Sam fuck this girl, not just imagine it, is more intoxicating than the drinks he’s downed tonight. To actually see Sam, stripped and vulnerable, losing himself inside some cunt… Dean had never even considered that as a possibility before, but now that the thought is in his mind he needs it, craves it. He spins on his heel, looking back at Sam, inwardly praying that his little brother will be gracious enough to grant him this one thing.

“I don’t mind,” Sam smirks, eyes darting back to Y/N and raking down her body. “If she wants you to watch her get used like a little fucktoy, she can have that.” Dean is back by the car in a heartbeat. Sam pulls the back door shut as Y/N climbs on his lap and starts kissing him, while Dean checks around furtively and slides into the front.

Y/N moans start to fill the small space of the car’s interior as she grinds enthusiastically down onto Sam. Dean watches Sam run his hands down her back and up under the hem of her skirt.  He wishes Sam would take her skirt off so he could see Sam’s hands on her ass, see his  fingers tearing into the lace panties that Dean had gotten a glimpse of when she slid into the backseat earlier on. They pull apart and Y/N pushes Sam’s shirt up and over his head, messing up his hair, before she runs her fingers through it and holds on tight, earning a pleased groan from Sam. Dean catalogues that knowledge for later use – not that he thinks he’ll be in a position to test it out on Sam, but it will be a nice detail to add to his tragic imaginary Sam, the one that knows how sick he is and doesn’t care.

Sam’s hands sneak up the back of Y/N’s top and Dean watches as he removes her bra with practiced ease, and he nods to himself – respect. Sam must be feeling her up now because his arms have disappeared to her front and she’s letting out some pretty little whimpers and arching into his chest. Y/N pulls her top off, then reaches for Sam’s jeans, undoing the belt, button and zip quick as she can. Sam pushes her off him and she sprawls to the side, facing Dean now, and her eyes seek him out.

Her chest is heaving, her breasts shuddering with each rise and fall of her chest, and Dean spends a moment taking in her body, appreciating the curves, before he notices her hands have snuck beneath her skirt and she’s clearly touching herself while she watches him. Dean flushes, reaching down to adjust himself in his jeans. “Enjoying the show?” she winks at him, and Dean nods wordlessly.

“Get back over here, and let’s give him a real show,” Sam grabs Y/N and drags her back onto his lap, still facing Dean. She straddles him and rubs herself over his crotch. Sam snakes his arms around her waist and pulls up the front of her skirt, so Dean can see Sam’s cock thrusting between her thighs, against the glistening satin and lace panties she’s wearing. Dean feels his dick leap in his jeans, and he reaches down to adjust himself again before he decides to just give in and let down his zip, pushing his hand inside his boxers to fist himself out of the material. “Wanna see me fuck her?” Sam grunts, eyes flicking up to catch Dean staring at their grinding hips.

Dean feels his cock leak across his fingers at Sam’s words. “Fuck yes,” he groans, stroking himself harder. “Fucking give it to ‘er Sammy.”

“Want me to give it to you sweetheart?” Sam breathes against Y/N’s neck, tucking her hair tenderly behind her ear and nipping at her earlobe. She squeezes her eyes shut and whimpers, Sam’s way with words clearly affecting her. “Gonna be a good little slut and take my cock? Let me use you up and then hand you over to my brother to finish you off?”

“Fuck, Sam please, please, just use me,” she pulls her panties to the side and tries to get Sam to slip inside her but she can’t quite find the angle, and she whines, desperate and frustrated.

“Wow, for someone who just wants to be a set of holes you sure are needy,” Sam growls and gets his cock in the right place and pulls her down his shaft slowly. “Thought you told me inside you’d let me do whatever I want to you, and you wouldn’t put up a fuss?”

“Just fucking fuck me already, please Sam,” Y/N is begging, grinding down onto Sam’s cock like a whore.  

Sam finally stops teasing her and follows through on his promise to use her. One of his hands comes up to wrap around her throat while he uses his other arm to keep her body pressed close against his, and he punches his hips into her hard, without abandon. Dean nearly chokes every time he catches a glimpse of Sam’s cock, bare and shiny with her slick, before he pushes back into her. It’s better than he could have imagined, watching Sam actually rail into a pussy instead of just hearing it through some flimsy drywall. It’s much easier to picture what Sam would look like fucking into him now that he’s seeing this.

“She feel good Sammy?” Dean is horrified to hear how strained his voice is when he speaks. He sounds like a goddamn girl with how fucking breathy he is.

“Uh huh,” Sam fucks into her quicker, like Dean’s question has spurred him on. “So wet, can feel her soaking into my thighs,” he moans. Dean refuses to let out the whimper that’s trying to escape his throat. “Gonna be even wetter for you,” Sam continues, leering up at Dean through his lashes, chin looped over Y/N’s shoulder. “She’s gonna be all messy when I’m done with her. But you like ‘em like that dontcha? Like ‘em strung out and used up?”

“Fuck,” Dean does almost whimper.

“Oh god,” Y/N whines, dropping her hips down in earnest against every one of Sam’s thrusts, and she snakes a hand down her front to start rubbing over her clit.

“Oh you wanna cum, do you? Think you earned that yet?” Sam bites against Y/N’s neck and bats her hand away from her core. “I think you’re gonna have to do a bit more before you get to cum. Gotta let me cum in you first, huh? Then you’re gonna be a good little cocksleeve for my big brother to get off in, and then, maybe, if you’ve been a good girl, we’ll make you cum.”

“Fucking hell,” she moans heavily, dropping her head back onto Sam’s shoulder. “C’mon then fuck me, want your cum inside me, please,” she whines, voice piercing in the small space.

“Yeah, that’s what Dean wants too,” Sam smirks, but he’s not looking at Dean now, he’s got his eyes closed tight and his head buried against Y/N’s shoulder. Dean thanks fuck for that, because when he heard Sam say that he knows Dean wants him to cum inside Y/N, Dean thought he was going to die of embarrasment. Obviously he wanted that, and in the back of his mind he knew Sam must know that he likes fucking the girls second, but they’d never talked about it. What did Sam think about the fact that Dean got off on fucking his little brother’s cum back into whatever warm body they’d picked out that day? He must be okay with it because they keep doing it.

Dean’s existential crisis is cut short when he hears the tell tale gasp and cut off whine that means Sam is cumming, and he looks up just in time to catch the  pure fucking bliss on his little brother’s face. His eyes flick down to where Sam and Y/N are joined and he watches, mesmerised, as Sam pulls out, his cock laced with the white of his release.

“Open your mouth, bitch,” Sam grunts, and shoves Y/N off his lap and onto her hands and knees so she can suck the cum back off his cock. Dean’s breath catches in his throat, desperately hoping she doesn’t swallow.

When she pulls off of Sam with a wet sound her mouth stays open and Dean can see the cum slipping from her lips. He reaches over the seat impulsively and grabs her hair, yanking her towards him and slamming their mouths together. Dean sucks her tongue into his mouth like he wants to bite it off, and he can’t keep in the moan that bubbles up from his chest when he tastes the bitter edge of Sam’s spunk on his tongue.

“C’mere,” Dean grunts against Y/N’s lips, dragging her over the top of the seat. It’s not graceful, it’s not attractive or sexy, it’s born of the intense desperation Dean has to feel something hot and wet around his dick, and when he pushes into Y/N’s cunt he knows he’s not going to win any records for stamina tonight. She’s tight, but it’s an easy fuck because she’s so so wet. Dean can feel Sam’s cum squeezing out of her every time he fucks in, pushing the creamy liquid out around his dick and grinding it into his jeans. They’re going to be ruined but he doesn’t give a fuck because this feeling is always worth it.

Y/N’s head is buried in the crook of his neck and Dean’s forehead is smashed into her shoulder as they cling to each other. Dean jumps when he feels hands on his shoulders, because the fingers are facing the wrong way for them to be hers – they’re Sam’s. He leans across Dean to kiss Y/N roughly, then yanks her head back by her hair, holding her out in front of Dean so they can watch her tits bounce while Dean fucks into her mercilessly.

“What d’ya think Dean, do we let her cum?” Y/N whines at the words and Dean can hear Sam smirking. “You’re gonna cum anyways aren’t you, you fucking slut. Gonna squeeze his cock real good for me? That’ll make you a real fuckin’ whore won’t it, going home with two guys’ loads in that pussy, huh?”

Sam’s taunts are cruel and mocking and fucking hot and Dean has never had to listen to Sam’s dirty talk while he was actually fucking something and he can’t handle it. He stills inside Y/N, gasping as he pumps his release inside her, mixes it up with Sam’s. Y/N is shaking around him and Dean thinks she must have cum too but honestly he’s so far gone he can’t even tell.

When Y/N climbs back over the seat to find her clothes, Dean stays put, still trying to catch his breath. He hears Sam open the door and walk her out, back to the bar. He shakes himself from his reverie and rushes to tuck himself back into his boxers. His jeans feel sticky, and they probably are ruined but he still doesn’t care. It was absolutely worth it.

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library​ @tintentrinkerin​ @negans-lucille-tblr​ @fandomfic-galore​ @petitgateau911​ @schaefchenherde​ @kickingitwithkirk​ @little-diable​ @laxe-chester67​ @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67​

All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j 

[hardskz]

bow down.

pairing — bang chan x genderneutral! reader

genre — modern royalty au, drama-ish, smut; sexual tension-ish, hand kink, brat tamer! chan, degradation, leg humping, humiliation

synopsis — you have eyes. prince bang chan is a whole snack. but you also have too high of an ego and can’t seem to accept that prince chan isn’t full of himself unlike the other dozen members of any royal family you’ve met before. alternatively, this is the disney channel movie ‘princess protection program’ but make it porn only.

note — this fic with a wc of 7k+ does not include any spoilers to the movie and you don’t even have to know what the movie is about you’ll get the gist as you read. ngl half of this is from one of my drafts from like 3 years ago and i never continued it so here i am turning it into filth hahahah (and i needed a fresh idea for brat tamer chan and hence why i think the sfw part is better written than the nsfw lmao) rip also pls accept this as the follower milestone gift and 1 year anniversary special :’)

“I’m pretty sure I asked for a puppy for my birthday — which was three months ago may I add — not for a new roommate?”

You look back and forth between Youngjae and the stranger sitting on the couch who is staring back at you with a curious expression. He looks around your age and you admit, his face isn’t the kind of face that makes you thank your parents that genetics did a decent job on you. It’s quite the opposite, actually.

His face is the type of face that makes you ask your parents why genetics didn’t do a better job on yours. Okay, you haven’t reached that stage of visual inferiority yet but that’s mainly because he is dressed in clothes that were trendy in the 15th century or something. The garments clinging to his skin look like a bad fusion of a suit (which college student wears a suit in their free time?) and the ridiculous costume the marching band at your former high school had worn whenever a football game was up. And those weird golden pins clipped on the blazer makes it seem as if he used to be in the marines or comes from a royal bloodline or—

Oh. 

“Don’t mind my cousin, your Highness. (y/n)’s humor has always been questionable.”  Youngjae sends you a glare before he puts on his sweetest smile — you know, the act he puts on whenever he tries to negotiate a bonus with his boss or woo his date — and opts to ignore your presence. “Anyway, since we are dealing with a more serious issue at hand than originally expected, we need to give you a makeover to—“

Before he gets to finish his sentence, you violently tug him away from the prince and despite Youngjae thrashing around and complaining, you manage to send the guest a forced smile and leave his vision. The moment you let go of Youngjae in the neighboring room, he readjusts his collar. “What? Couldn’t you have waited once I was done? Also, was it necessary to crinkle my collar this much?” he hisses but you get straight to the point.

“What is he doing here?”

“Uh, sitting on the couch?”

“That’s not what I mean.” you grit your teeth and land a punch on his arm. “What is he doing here?”

Youngjae looks over your shoulder, making sure that what he’s about to say next is only heard by you. “Prince Chan is,” he hesitates, unsure how to approach his topic. You know it’s taking up his last nerves to conclude a logical explanation as the tip of his tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips; a habit he has adapted ever since he stopped chewing on his bottom lip. “The predicament he’s in is worse than we expected. Well, his dad is partially at fault because he forgot to tell us this not-so-small critical detail that—“

“Youngjae, you’re rambling.”

“The point is.” he sighs and gives you a distressed look as if he already knows you’re not going to like the information at all. “We can’t send him to the family in Goyang, the place he was originally going to stay in. He’s one of the more extreme cases and the Board agreed that he had to live with one of the active combatants to ensure his safety.”

Silence engulfs the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for you to count two and two together.

“He’s going to live here,” you deadpan eventually and Youngjae nods in confirmation.

“I know you’re not very happy—“

“Not very happy is underwhelming.” You earn a flick against your forehead and yelp in pain as you over the spot he just hit. “Ow! I was just stating the truth!”

“Will you stop interrupting me? Geez. Yes, I know that you’re not happy at all. I know that you’re not a huge fan of the majority of our family working in this business. But please do me this one favor or so help me God— try to be nice to him for the next year.”

“He’s staying for a year?” you shriek and in the blink of an eye, Youngjae clamps your mouth shut.

“Can you keep it down?!” he whisper-yells, then retreats his hand and reverts to a conversational tone with a frown. “It’s just a year, okay? Y’know, just... say hi to him whenever you see him. Act civilized.”

You grimace as he stresses his last words like you didn’t know what human decency was. The longer you keep the petrified expression on your face, the more it turns into a staring contest between the two of you. Just as if you were each other’s reflection, you mimic his actions and vice versa. When Youngjae squints, you squint. When you shoot him a glare, he returns it. It all boils down to the final blink that Youngjae feints and you’re the first to look away.

“Okay fine! I’ll try to behave,” you mumble in defeat.

A satisfied smile makes its way on Youngjae’s lips. “It’s always nice negotiating with you.”

Being born into a family where the majority works for the royalty protection program (short: RPP or as you like to stylize it: argh-pee-pee), also known as the secret service for people with crowns on their heads, comes with many perks. In your eyes, this privilege comes with many, many downsides that aren’t worth the advantages. Sure, there is the one or other occasion where you can waltz around in fancy evening attire and attend an actual ball, but overall, it’s a pain in the ass.

Even though it’s prohibited to openly declare that you work for the RPP, the news always finds its way out. Usually, it takes approximately a week for pretty much half of the neighborhood to find out. And it certainly isn’t nice hearing whispers about your dad being that guy working for the program whenever you step out of your house, which is ultimately why you moved in with your cousin Youngjae. (Housing in your small town wasn’t really affordable for a dirt poor college student after all!)

Youngjae has always been your favorite cousin out of the... whatever number of cousins you have. But here’s the thing. He also works for the RPP.

However, somehow he managed to — and up to this day it still remains a mystery to you how on earth he did that — keep his job a secret. Especially with his tendency to dish out the worst kinds of secrets when he’s slightly tipsy. Frankly, you once considered printing out the image of a trophy for that remarkable feat.

With your dad and cousin both active in that business (because organization sounds too shady), it’s not the first time you meet a prince, so you already know how the entire thing works. The concept is quite simple; they get sent to a household but before they settle in and take on a fake identity until their circumstances have improved, they undergo a makeover. Most of the time, it ends up in the glow up you secretly crave but in Prince Chan’s case, you suppose he can’t get any more attractive.

Oh boy. You’re in for a ride.

You’re busy slicing bell peppers for the meal you were cooking when both your cousin and the prince enter the kitchen and Youngjae explicitly demands you to pay them attention. You don’t react immediately, but the moment he threatens to swipe the knife away from you, you perk up and set your desire to prepare your fried rice aside.

“(y/n), uh, hi? I’m Bang Chan and I’ll be your new housemate for a year. I hope we can get along.” Chan recites his introduction without any mistakes and earns a way too brotherly pat on the back from Youngjae, considering that they just met this morning. It’s truly amazing how fast Youngjae can get people to warm up to him. 

Chan is stripped out of his weird clothes and instead, looks like he threw on the next best thing lying around in his room. Nonetheless, despite the seemingly little effort that was put into the outfit, it looks oddly good. The stylists didn’t seem to do much to his hair and just parted his bangs a little, so one could catch a slight glimpse of his forehead. It’s just a small detail, but you find yourself liking his current appearance much more appealing than before, though you’re pretty sure his clothes played a major part in your previous distaste. 

“Remember Jihyo?” Youngjae interrupts your train of thought. “She’s Chan’s relative. And because I’m the genuine friend who loves to help her out, I decided to agree to this after she went down on her knees and begged me to let Chan live with us for a while—“

“I’m not interested in your blown up, fictional background stories, thank you very much.” you backtrack. “Wait. Did you say Jihyo? Seriously? Jihyo is his alibi?” Of course, you remember Jihyo. It’s quite difficult to forget her when Youngjae used to swoon about her at every hour of the day, back when they were a thing. Besides, she still stops by every few months.

“C’mon, you have to admit there is a similar vibe between them!” 

You furrow your brows and inspect Chan a second time. Your gaze wanders back to Youngjae and then returns to Chan anew. It’s obvious that the latter is feeling as if he were up for auction and you can’t really blame him for feeling so uncomfortable. You’ve heard from a few friends that if looks could kill, you’d have the highest killing record. 

There’s no similar vibe in your view, but for the sake of entertaining Youngjae’s thoughts: “He does seem similar to Jihyo.”

“Told ya. But back to more important matters,” Youngjae coughs and wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, but it somehow seems as if he’s opting to strangle you. “My duties are calling, so I won’t be back until late. You look like you could need some help with cooking, by the way. I’m sure Chan right here is willing to help you!”

“I’m almost done though—“ you choke when he tightens his embrace. By now, his arm is no longer hugging your shoulder, but rather crushing your throat.

“You look like you could need some help,” he repeats, this time with added urgency. “It’d be a great opportunity for you to bond since you’ll also share pretty much all classes at uni. Did you know, he has the same major as you! Besides, it’d be a very useful life experience for him if he helped you with cooking.”

“Of course, how fun!” you hiss, voice going an octave higher from the lack of oxygen. “I already said that I’m painfully delighted about that, so you can let me go now, Youngjae!”

A sneer and a jab in his arm later, Youngjae finally takes his leave. That nasty liar, leaving an hour earlier than his schedule stated. You know that silently cursing at him isn’t going to make your problems dissolve because that’d be a dream come true.

“Listen, let me get things straight.” you sigh, picking up the knife to resume chopping your vegetables. Youngjae may have ordered you to act civilized, but having eye contact with Chan when you’ve been starving for the past hour isn’t your priority. Food doesn’t make itself. “I don’t have any intention of getting close to you and I expect the same from you. Don’t step a foot into my room, don’t talk to me unless absolutely necessary, and don’t think I’ll run around and do your chores or cook your meals like one of your little servants. Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you’ll be treated like one under this roof.”

“We live in the 21st century, not the renaissance. Your idea of royal families is very dated.” Chan chuckles dryly.

“Baron Yoon Jeonghan from the seven islands is a stuck-up prick and out of touch with the world. It took him several visits to the slums, multiple voluntary hours at the kindergarten, and stripping him off his bank card to make him see reason,” you deadpan. Fuck Baron Jeonghan. Just thinking about your first and last encounter with that entitled douchebag almost makes you slice your finger instead of the bell pepper. “Duchess Yoo Shiah threw a hissy fit when she found out her clothes weren’t dry cleaned and bought from Zara instead of fucking Dior. The one who takes the cake when it comes to privilege is Princess Kim Min—”

“Everyone knows they are problematic,” Chan interjects. True, he has a point. There’s nobody out there who doesn’t know about Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah but he’s also missing the entire point.

“And guess who gets stuck under the care of the RPP?” you raise a brow at him. He blanches at the realization as if he got struck with lightning. Perhaps you should give him more credit because he seems to own more brain cells than Baron Jeonghan. “Exactly. Everyone problematic.” 

Chan’s jaw is clenched as he racks his brain to come up with a smart comeback. The sight of him stumbling on his words is nothing but pitiful, so you turn back to the cutting board and grab an onion to slice in half. “I’m not interested in your sob story, your Highness. I don’t care why you’re under the protection of the RPP. The only thing I care about is that you stay out of my business.”

“Chan is fine. No need for the title,” he sighs with a strain. “Perhaps I should’ve been more considerate with my first comment. Youngjae already told me about your… negative attitude towards the entire setup. It wasn’t my intention to anger you. Sorry.”

Well, that’s new. Out of the dozens of aristocrats you’ve met (and sadly also shared a house with back when you were 16 years old and still living with your dad), he’s the first to drop his title within five minutes for the sake of the disguise and apologize. 

“We live under the same roof so we should get along with each other. If there’s something you need help with, just ask me, (y/n).”

“Thanks for the offer,” you reply nonchalantly because act civilized unless you want to suffer from a late-night sneak attack from Youngjae if he finds out. “But no thanks. I don’t need your help.”

You find yourself in need of help a few weeks later, right before the dreaded exam season.

“No. Forget it, Bam. I’m not going out clubbing with you tonight. In fact, I won’t do that anytime soon.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you try to break down to your friend that you prioritize your grades over his need of getting wasted.

“C’mon!” he whines so loudly that you have to put your phone farther away from your ear. “You’re not in that much stress yet! You have to make the most out of it before you drown in your exams.”

“Things are different for engineering students like, uh, me for example!” you hiss. “I fell behind and need to catch up. Ask Yugyeom or Changbin.”

“First of all, Yugyeom is always at the bar doing his job. And Changbin never picks up his phone. There’s nobody who’d dance with me!”

“You abandoned me at the bar for some chick the last time,” you deadpan. “I’m very sure you’ll find someone.”

Bambam finally gets the gist and gives up. “Fine then. Your loss. Have fun dying in numbers and variables instead of living in the moment. You’re going to regret it—”

You end the call and set your phone on mute before throwing it on the bed. Sometimes you wonder whether you were on drugs when you decided to major in engineering. The longer you stare at the jumble of numbers and letters — some of them in Greek too — the more you think your brain cells are decaying.

That’s how you find yourself in the kitchen, complaining at Youngjae’s expense and telling him how much you’d rather drown in bleach than subjecting yourself to Algebra II. 

“You know there’s someone you can ask for help and he’s right here,” Youngjae drawls before chugging down the rest of his beer. If he’s going to be a victim to your temper tantrum about a major that you chose yourself, he might as well get a drink so he won’t go insane from your monologue about numbers and graphs and formulas he’s forgotten since he graduated from high school.

You gawk at him. “You? Are you hearing yourself? You almost failed maths. Twice!”

“Because I didn’t mean myself, dipshit,” he says blankly and his eyes flit over your shoulder, “Speaking of the devil. There comes the man of honor.”

You whip your head back to the door to see Chan enter confusedly. “Uh, did I interrupt something?”

“Yes.”

“No, we were just talking about you!”

You send Youngjae a death glare which he casually shrugs off. “(y/n) here is bitching about her Statistics I class and needs a tutor!”

“It’s actually Algebra II if you bothered to pay attention—”

“(y/n) needs a tutor!” Youngjae exclaims and nearly trips on his feet when he gets up from his chair. “Channie, I heard you’re good with numbers. Didn’t you get accepted into all Ivy Leagues in the States for all engineering programs?”

“You didn’t have to word it like that,” Chan laughs it off and nervously rubs the back of his head. He’s not denying it though.

“Obviously he would. He’s loaded and lives in a castle,” you mutter under your breath, but everyone catches it.

“Hey,” Youngjae warns. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“It’s alright,” Chan says casually. “I just wanted to get myself a snack. But if you have some questions, don’t hesitate to knock on my door. The offer still stands, y’know.” He digs through the cabinet until he finds two packs of the strawberry flavored Pocky knockoff that is 1) apparently his favorite thing to eat and 2) half the price of the Pocky version. He gives Youngjae a thumbs up before he returns to his room.

The moment Chan is out of sight, Youngjae whips his head to you, nostrils flaring. All that’s missing is steam coming out of his ears and his face running red and then he looks like the impetuous brother in every kids cartoon ever. “Really? He’s been staying with us for how long now? Four weeks? Five? Yet you’re still acting as if he murdered you in your dreams or something.”

“I don’t like him,” you state coldly. Youngjae looks like he’s about to rip his hair out.

“Look, I get that you don’t like me being active in this field of work, and I get that you have some hatred against the royal families. But you know you signed up for this when you decided to move in with me.” Youngjae pauses to get a breather and pop a new beer bottle open. “Besides, Chan isn’t like Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah. I have eyes, (y/n), and I’ve seen you two avoiding each other as much as possible. And he doesn’t just laze around — he does the fucking chores and cooks dinner too! Chan is good, (y/n).”

The last words make you snap. “Good? Are you fucking serious? Because that’s why the press in his kingdom is depicting him as a tyrant who cares more about building his sick harem instead of helping the poor. And wasn’t he diagnosed for having anger management issues?!”

All the color leaves Youngjae’s face. This is obviously something you shouldn’t know. While he’s scrambling for words, you take the chance to add, “Dunno why you’re protecting him when he’s making headlines as a prince who can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

“Chan isn’t just a prince,” Youngjae says quietly. “He’s the crown prince.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “What? Isn’t that even worse with that reputation he has?”

“It’s all propaganda,” he sighs and takes a swig, “The ministers are doing everything they can to finish him off. You see, Chan is the only child of the current king of the seven islands, and if he’s wiped out, it’ll be utter chaos. Chan’s smart and I admit, he used to have anger issues, but he’s worked on them. Though I guess he’s resorted to bottling up his feelings when push comes to pull. The point is, all the higher-ups don’t want him as their future king because they know that Chan is very much capable of pulling through with his own ideas and that doesn’t sit well with them. And a supposedly impulsive future king is the last thing anyone wants, hence why his people are eating up the news.”

“Oh.” you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel an ounce of remorse. However, it’s not the first time you’ve heard such stories. 

“Yeah. Oh,” Youngjae mocks, “If that’s the main reason why you don’t want to talk to him, now you know better. He might have power, but he’s not a monster. And for the record, he got into all Ivy Leagues and elite schools all over the world through his intelligence, not his status.”

Although you can see it in his eyes that Youngjae is done with the heated discussion, he’s still waiting for you to say something. You frown. “So… you think he’s a good tutor?”

“He’s your only shot.” Youngjae says nonchalantly, then adds with a warning tone, “But remember: Act. Civilized. Oh, and don’t tell him I told you about his circumstances. It’s supposed to be confidential information.”

You roll your eyes. How the fuck hasn’t Youngjae been busted yet?

Nonetheless, you’re trudging to Chan’s door a few minutes later, your fat binder of incomprehensible math formulas and (Greek) letter heavy in your arm. Chan opens the door with surprise etched on his face after you knocked, but it settles to warmth when you begrudgingly ask him to help you understand Algebra II. 

“Sorry, it’s a little messy here,” he chuckles airily once he lets you in. It’s not messy per se, just a few clothes piled up in a corner of the room and some books and messily written notes lying on his bed. Still, it’s by far cleaner than the pig stall that is Youngjae’s room (and yours when you’re having a very bad day).

Chan clears his desk and drags his other chair to the table before plopping down on it. “So, what’s the problem?” Instead of answering, you just shove a sheet of paper up his face. “Y’know, you can talk to me. If this is about earlier, it’s really alright. I’m not mad or anything,” he says with the same friendly tone you’ve been hearing ever since he moved in, yet he still takes the sheet from you. You watch his brows scrunch together the more he reads on, and you can already see the question forming in his mind.

“(y/n), you do know this is the basis to understand—”

“I was absent when the professor covered it and everyone I asked couldn’t quite explain it to me,” you respond before he can finish speaking out his thoughts. “All my friends were like—” you gesture with your hands, “—you just do this and that and then hope your hunch is right. Before you say it, yes I know that I don’t get the material of one entire unit and the exam is two weeks away.”

“Then let’s not waste any time,” Chan says before grabbing his iPad. You stare at him blankly as he writes something on his tablet. The last thing you expected from him was to accept it and try to hammer as much of missing information as he can into your brain, but then again, you’ve never seen him backtrack whenever Youngjae asks him something. Speaking of Youngjae, perhaps he is right. Chan does seem to know what he’s talking about.

“You have to subtract X first, then replace it with Y,” he explains as he circles said letters in different colors. By now, you’ve leaned closer to him to get a better view on what he’s writing (his handwriting isn’t the worst you’ve ever had to decode; refer to Youngjae who you’ve internally awarded with the worst handwriting of the decade). 

Chan is exceptionally good at explaining. You feel like you’ve figured out a secret of the world that not even Pythagoras found out as you slowly understand what on Earth you are supposed to calculate with the formula. Chan is patient, always asking if you got it or if you needed another clarification, and takes the time to draw colorful graphs to visualize the jumble of numbers. His voice is pleasing to the ear too, soft and gentle to the point where you’ve blurred everything out except Chan. Chan’s voice. Chan’s hand.

You didn’t mean to stare, but with him always adding something new every five seconds as he goes on with his monologue, you can’t help but do so. His fingers aren’t long — that’ll always be courtesy of Hyunjin from Subway and yes, his very pretty hands might be the sole reason you only insist on going to that one specific Subway at the intersection next to KFC — but just one glance at Chan’s hand and you know that he’s strong. 

He’s barely applying pressure to the pen, but you can see the veins slightly protruding. Chan’s sleeves are pushed back and if you move your head a bit, you’re more than certain that veins are bulging out from his forearms too. However, you don’t muster up the courage to do that because Chan will definitely notice and the last thing you want on your platter is to tell him that you were too busy checking out his arms instead of listening to him talk about Algebra II.

Eventually, Chan sets the pen down to stretch his hand. He says something, but you don’t pick up what exactly. Not that it’d matter much anyway since you’re too busy admiring his hand—

“(y/n), you there? I called out your name several times but you didn’t react.” Chan’s breath hitches and surprise flashes in his eyes for a split second when his gaze meets yours. You don’t understand his hesitation, but then horror bubbles in you once you realize that his hand is firmly gripping your chin and keeping your head pointed at his direction. The very same hand you’ve been staring at for God knows how long. 

“I’m good. Just a little tired, but I’m good,” you stutter, though it comes out very breathlessly as if you just finished a marathon.

“Tired?” Chan echoes, concern settling into his features. “You should’ve said so, then I would’ve stopped talking. You need something?”

Now that you think about it, you’ve never got a close look at Chan. Sure, he’s handsome, the countless pictures of Google prove that he’s also too photogenic for his own good (goddamnit, why didn’t your parents make you just as photogenic?) but in person, he’s something else. His lips are plush and look very inviting to kiss, and the lower your eyes wander, the more you see a toned chest hidden underneath that damn shit that hugs him in all the right places.

Fine, his hands aren’t the only attractive thing about him. Then again, he’s a prince.

“I said I’m good.” you snap out of your thoughts and finally gather enough control over your nerves to tear his hand away. “And I caught everything you said.” Of course, you know that’s a blatant lie and he knows so too from the way he’s looking at you. That is until he quirks a brow.

“Okay, then what did I say before I called you?”

Your mouth feels dry. It’s almost as if he knew the reason for your distress. “I caught everything relevant to this,” you mutter, suddenly finding his curtains much more interesting. What an interesting design, maybe you should get yourself new curtains too—

“Then you wouldn’t mind solving these questions, right? Just so I can make sure that you got everything down.”

“Sure,” you reply because that’s the only thing you could say without hurting your ego and straining your vocal cords. Chan doesn’t comment any further and looks for some practice questions before sliding the iPad to you. Already the first question makes your head spin in disdain. Numbers? Variables? Never heard of them.

Chan is watching you like a hawk as you fiddle with the pen, unable to write down anything that makes remote sense. Feeling his eyes on you makes you feel helpless and you shift around in your seat. “What are you staring at?” you glare at him once you give up for good, and you just hope that your look is as intimidating as you pictured in your head.

“You’re definitely exhausted. You’re shaking,” Chan points out. Your eyes widen as you stare down and realize that your thighs are shaking, and it’s then and there when you realize that you’re feeling hot. Seems like Chan doesn’t realize that because the worry written on his face is genuine. “You say the exam’s in two weeks right? We can stop for today and work on this tomorrow. That is if you still want my help.”

You nod and add in a tiny voice, “Yes, please.”

You’re too busy ignoring the heat building between your thighs to notice the borderline feral sound that leaves Chan.

“And here I thought you had quality bonding time.” Youngjae gives a disappointed look. “You’re acting even colder towards him than before your exam meltdown. Your prick level can only stoop down so low.”

You ended up getting tutor lessons from Chan every day before the dreaded day of judgment: the exam in Algebra II. You spent more hours in his room than on your own if you were completely honest, and the results were fruitful. While you did manage to pass the exam with a fairly high score, the price you had to pay was hell.

It’s almost as if Chan caught up on your hand fixation. Sometimes he twirled the pen in his fingers, sometimes it was the simple bracelet dangling on his wrist. Just when you thought he had you figured out, he asks you if you’re alright, visibly oblivious to his effect on you. Such duality in a person should be illegal, you conclude. If you die from whiplash, you know who the perpetrator is.

“You were the one who pretty much pressured me into asking him for help,” you drawl.

“I had good intentions only! You can’t keep up the I-hate-royal-families-blah-blah mentality the entire time!” Youngjae wails before stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth.

“Watch me.” You internally cringe at the loud crunching sounds he’s making and add vigorously, “And stop chewing so loudly.”

“You’ll get around or so help me God—” he groans when his phone buzzes. He doesn’t spare a glance at the caller ID because there’s only one person who has set his ringtone to the baby shark song specifically for when he’s calling. “I gotta go, Jinyoung’s being a bitch again. Don’t murder somebody. Thanks.” You only watch him shuffle for his bag and grab a handful of chips before he’s out the door. Groaning, you clean up the mess he’s made on the table. 

Just as you’re done wiping the crumbs off the surface, Chan pads into the room. 

“Hey, can we talk?”

“I established right at the beginning that you should only talk to me when absolutely necessary.” you scowl, trying to walk past him.

“Well, this is important,” he urges and blocks the doorway, effectively stopping you from fleeing. “And I do deserve one conversation with you after I helped you out.”

“You offered on your own. That’s not the same as asking for a favor.” You successfully push your way past him, but in the next moment, he spins you around and pins you against the wall. 

“We’re going to talk, whether you like it or not.” The sudden coldness of his tone has shivers running down your spine. Chan holds your wrist in an iron grip and if he clutched on any tighter, you wouldn’t put it past him to break your bones. Out of options, you comply and give him a curt nod before he lets go and takes a step back. 

“I don’t understand you, (y/n). I genuinely thought you would put your prejudices aside but instead, all I get are mixed signals from you.”

It’s your turn to gawk. “Me? Mixed signals? What are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about how you keep looking at me as if you want me to fuck your brains out.” If the color hasn’t drained from your face yet, it has now. Chan smiles wickedly at your horrified reaction but doesn’t stop there. “I’m talking about how you talk like you don’t want anything to do with me but act as if you’re begging for my attention.” He takes a step closer to you, and you wish you could morph with the wall. “I’m talking about how you keep staring at my hands and think I don’t notice it.” You wince when he rests his hands against the wall on each side of your face, leaning closer so that you can feel his breath on your lips. “So, you have a thing for my hands?” Bullseye.

“You’re so full of yourself. No wonder your ministers want to get rid of you,” you snap because you’d rather suffer from food poisoning than admitting that you want Chan’s fingers in you.

Something shifts within Chan. He gapes at you, clearly not expecting you to even know about the ministers. His demeanor darkens in a blink of an eye, and you feel like your legs are about to give up on you when you meet his eyes, black and feral.

“You’re playing with fire. Don’t anger me,” he warns, voice low and rough.

“So it’s true that you resorted to bottling up your feelings, your Highness?” you cock your head to the side. Chan clenches his jaw at the mention of his title, struggling to keep his anger in check. You laugh through your nose, then grab one of his hands and force it away from the wall. If he already knows that you’re thirsting after him, might as well go for it. “It’s funny how your ministers aren’t able to string you around like a puppet yet here you are, unable to do anything against a commoner. You know you have nice hands and you know my weakness and yet, you’re not using them on me.” He gulps when you fumble with his fingers. 

And then he understands.

“Unless I misread the situation,” he says darkly, though you distinguish the slight tremor his voice carries. “Do you really want this? I’m not going to go easy on you.” Chan is dead serious, judging by the way he’s looking at you expectantly. 

“The safe word is petunia.” You don’t take your eyes off him and add in a louder tone, “Now try me, do your worst.”

“You’re going to regret wanting me at my worst,” Chan growls and before you know it, he crashes his lips against yours. The kiss is anything but sweet, more of a clash of teeth and tongues and saliva dribbling down your chins, yet it leaves you boiling hot and wobbly on your feet. He presses you up against the wall and forces his leg between yours, the sudden contact making you hunch forward. You moan against his mouth when he tugs harshly on your hair, the sting making your nerves go haywire. In the meantime, your hands roam his upper body, blunt nails digging into his shoulders as you try to buck your hips against his leg. While he doesn’t budge, you manage to elicit a groan out of him.

When you pull away, you’re both gasping for air. Chan’s hair is disheveled from the way you’ve been pulling on them, lips pink and glossy. One look in his eyes is enough to make your heart stop beating. They’re dark and animalistic and set ablaze with unfiltered lust. You’re such in a daze from a simple kiss that you nearly stumble when Chan drags you to his room.

He manhandles you on his bed with ease before his lips latch on yours once more. You nearly sob when he rids you off your pants, putting pressure in all the right places to have you losing your mind. As you’re about to gain back some dominance in the kiss, he breaks it off. His fingers that were once ghosting over your underwear are now tracing patterns all over the material, making you spasm. “You’re such a brat, all bark but no bite. All it takes is one kiss and you’ve lost all your fight. Can you get any more pathetic?” he mocks as he focuses his fingertips directly on the wet patch of your underwear. Your eyes roll back as he rubs on the same spot, the broken moans leaving you eerily similar to cries. “Don’t tell me you’re about to come like this. How sensitive are you?”

“Am n-not—” you cut yourself off with a whimper when he lets the waistband snap against your skin.

“Yeah, you sure about that?” he grins and that’s when you break, feeling your high approaching at lightning speed. 

“Don’t wanna come like this—” 

“But I thought you’re not sensitive?” the satisfied grin just widens with every syllable that leaves his lips. “If you don’t want to come like this, all over your underwear, beg.” 

Chan applies even more force to your sensitive spots, and you struggle to have a clear thought. The smirk he delivers is lethal, and you couldn’t be any more convinced that he’s the devil’s incarnate.

“I’ll do anything, please. Don’t let me come like this, that’s all I’m a-aah-asking for,” you weep, your blood nearly boiling at its climax, “I’ll even take a punishment!”

“Say my name,” he orders, fingers still drawing circles.

“Your—”

“My name, not my title.”

Your breath hitches as you finally realize what he’s aiming for. He wants you to remember that it’s him who’s reducing you into this illiterate mess. Him, the one you’ve been despising since before you even met. If you still had any ounce of dignity left, you’d try to fix the power imbalance until you’re left with no choice but to obey, but now you’re so close and the last thing you want to do is come with your pants on.

“Please, Chan,” your voice breaks towards the end and in an instant, he pulls away. As you’re letting you’re basking in the break from his brutal tempo, not too affected by how your upcoming orgasm is fading away, Chan observes you.

And then out of nowhere, he flips you on your stomach and delivers a hard smack to your ass that has you screaming into the pillows.

“You said you’d take any punishment too, right?” You twitch as he rubs the small of your back. You can already imagine the handprints on your ass he continued to slap you with such force that has you moving up the bed. The pain that’s going to haunt you for days. Before you know it, you try to arch your back to lift your ass, but then the bed shifts. “But if you really think I’m going to spank you as a punishment, then you’re really fucking dumb. As if I’ll use my hands on you when we both know you love my hands.”

With that, he drops himself on his chair, spreading his legs that you can see the prominent tent forming in his pants. He orders you over with a flick of his finger, and just as you get up from the bed, a new wave of horror flushes over you.

“Crawl.”

The look you send him is priceless. There’s no fucking way you can do it. It’s just a few meters, nothing you can’t handle, but he’s there sitting on his Ikea swivel chair as if it’s his throne made of gold, watching your every movement like a predator. And then there’s you, only in a shirt and underwear, being forced to go on all fours as if you were his fucking dog—

The difference in power display couldn’t get any more visible. He really is the fucking worst.

“You’d really do anything, huh…” he muses as you drop on your hands and knees and crawl to him, never looking up. It’s only when he beckons you to stand up that you look at him with nothing but rage and shame in your eyes. Chan has always been slightly terrified with your death stare but right now, he can’t take it seriously and it shows. It shows in the way he smiles lopsidedly, in the way his brows quirk in amusement. “Now hump my leg.”

Humiliation runs through your body all over. Your fists are clenched as he waits for you to act, even pats his thigh in case you didn’t get the memo. But oh you do, and his thigh does look inviting.

“Hump my leg like the brainless bitch you are. If you want my hands or my cock, you earn it first. Especially since you treated me like shit ever since I moved in.” The last sentence burns you badly because he has a point. But then there’s the prospect of his hands and dick that’s bulging out of his pants. 

Pushing all thoughts away, you settle on his leg. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you tell yourself it’s all good and then you move. The first thrust knocks all air out of your lungs and you grab onto his shoulders for support. You didn’t even move that much, but Chan’s looking at you as if he’s about to fucking devour you and knowing that he is very much capable of moving you around, you’re starting to become overwhelmed.

Eventually, you lose yourself in the feeling of his rough jeans against your drenched underwear, humping on his thigh as your orgasm builds up. It’s silent, save for your pants, and the countless whimpers flying past your lips as your movements gradually become sloppier. You’re almost there and you know it. But so does Chan, and the moment he’s got it figured out, he lunges from your hips and forces you to pick up the pace. 

“Oh no, you’re going to come,” he growls, ignoring your pleas and sobs. Adrenaline courses in your blood and you know it isn’t long until you fall apart. You try to make him stop, even put your hands on his, but you don’t have the energy to actively push him away.

“Chan, please— I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna come? Then fucking come on my thigh, (y/n),” he snaps, and then adds, “You hear that? You’re about to come from humping my thigh.”

Maybe it’s the realization that he’s right, maybe it’s the way he’s worded it. Either way, it’s the last straw to make you spasm as you come, soaking your underwear and even managing to make a mess out of his pants. Chan makes sure you ride through your orgasm, only stopping to move your hips once you’re all spent and resting your head on his shoulder. Your eyes are glassy, vision foggy, but the only thing you can envision clearly is Chan.

Chan jolts when your hand grazes over his bulge. You’re about to undo his pants, but he’s quick to stop you and restrict your hands behind your back.

“You think you deserve my cock? Dream on. As if I would fuck any commoner, especially those who don’t respect me,” he spits, and you flinch at his choice of words, clearly recalling that you used the exact same terms and he’s now using it against you. “You said you’d take any punishment. Well, guess what? This was just punishment number one.”

[wynniewright]

In Harm’s Way (M)

→ This story is a part of the @bangtanshadowfamily “The Creatures of Moonlight Manor” Halloween collab!

→ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

→ Word Count: 4.8k

→ Genre: grim reaper au, halloween au, smut, lots of fluff, bit angsty

→ Summary: After fighting with her grim reaper boyfriend, Y/N decides to throw herself into a dangerous situations to get him to stop ignoring her.

→ Trigger Warnings: Mentions of attempted suicide (it’s not dark, think of when bella tried to get edward to save her so she kept doing stupid shit - it’s that), one time mention of a past near-death experience (not detailed, it’s just vaguely mentioned in the fluffy part), reader attempts suicide via toaster bath (with the intention of being saved by her supernatural, soul-reaping boyfriend). Please don’t read if these make you uncomfortable! 

→ Warnings: dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral (female), bit of impregnation kink, tae just wants to be a dad, reader makes stupid decisions, cum play, possible impregnation?, sex with pants on, fingering, lots of fluff and all that good stuff

→ A/N: Hello hello! Finally found the time to squeeze in this story in the middle of my full-time school and part-time work schedule. Sorry it took so long for another fic to post but here I am! I want to thank my amazing bangtan hq sprinting crew who helped motivate me to finish this @purpletigertaetae @nightowls388 @shadowsremedy @wwilloww. This story was supposed to be a lot darker and a whole lot more filthy than it turned out. Wasn’t supposed to be fluffy at all and somehow it turned real quick so I hope you enjoy. I’d also like to state that I’m not promoting suicide or slightly toxic relationships, this is a fictional story and the reader hasn’t died, isn’t dead, and won’t die, so the suicidal scene in this is not meant to be disturbing. If you’re not comfortable reading, please don’t. Alright, I love you all.~ Hope you enjoy.

The biggest struggle of dating Taehyung was that no guide, tutorial, or advice blog post could’ve prepared you for what it was going to be like to be in a relationship with him. I almost wished there were some sort of ‘how to’ on dating a grim reaper because no matter how much dating experience I had, being with him was like being in my first relationship again.

It was a little unconventional, sure. Date nights were always iffy since, apparently, reapers don’t need sleep and therefore are technically scheduled around the clock. Boy, there was nothing like us setting up a nice, stay-at-home dinner date when he’d suddenly kiss my cheek and disappear into thin air, only to come back a few minutes later and announce he’d taken another soul. I’ll be honest, it was a slight mood killer. 

But aside from his job description, Tae was a kind person. He didn’t seem to know exactly how to deal with human emotions, as his kind were strictly prohibited from having human-reaper relations and never had the opportunity to learn from us. But just because he didn’t know what emotions were, doesn’t mean he didn’t feel them. He was a sensitive guy, too.

I remembered the first time he cried. We were watching Marley & Me and I cried at the end like any other sane human being. Tae didn’t cry at all, in fact, knowing I was sad made him sad enough to tear up, even more so when he couldn’t get me to stop. That memory was one of my favorites purely because it was too wholesome to forget: a grim reaper crying because a girl was sad that a dog died in a movie. 

But like every other person in the world, not ever emotion was positive. 

Being much older than I, Taehyung didn’t really have moments where he got angry to the point of exploding in a fit. There wasn’t a situation where he ever passed that threshold, at least, not in front of me. The feelings Tae couldn’t quite grasp were hurt and jealousy. 

From his own words, he never loved anyone before me, and something I knew better than anyone was that jealousy and love were very closely intertwined. 

The first year we dated, I tried explaining to him what jealousy was, that even I felt it too in an attempt to teach him that he didn’t need to act on it. It was safe to say that it didn’t really work.

Over four and a half into our relationship together and Taehyung still chose to disappear whenever we got into a small petty argument that involved him taking something out of context and then not wanting to talk about it like the century old being that he was. 

In our most recent example, my best friend, Sam, called and told me that she was expecting her first baby. We cried a little and then spent the rest of the conversation talking about whose eyes they would have or which parent they would most resemble. Tae and I never talked about kids nor a future together, we just lived in every moment the two of us were given, so indulging on a new topic with Sam gave me the image of tiny Tae-Taes waddling across the wooden floor, matching their father’s bright, boxy grin as they giggled. 

I made one comment - one! I told her how I’d love to have mini-Taehyungs running about the place and that I was so excited to meet her little Sam. Somehow, he took that and ran with it.

He didn’t bother letting me speak, pulling the usual disappearing act he always resorted to when he was upset and didn’t want to properly face his feelings in the moment. I thought it would pass like all the rest, but something changed. 

Hours passed and he never came to check in on me. Days flew by and I hadn’t heard from him. I wanted for him to come by, swallowing my pride and shouting at the empty air in hopes he was listening, to no avail. Nothing worked. 

After two weeks of being ignored and left without so much as a trace, I decided to do what any normal girl would do to seek out her boyfriend’s attention.

I needed to kill myself. 

I didn’t want to die, by any means. Tae knew how close I’d come to death a few too many times, but if I was going to get his attention back on me, I needed to attempt something stupid. Not only did it have to be stupid, it also had to be believable. I needed to convince him that I was going to die and hope he’d rescue me just in time.

I knew it wasn’t a good plan to start off with but it was the only thing I could come up with to get him to focus on me. The only reason I even thought of such a stupid idea was because I knew he’d never let me actually die. He saved me once and I was willing to bet he’d save me again and this time my life was actually on the line.

All that being said, I’ll regurgitate that it wasn’t the brightest idea I’d ever had. 

What if he’d decided to have someone else cover me? What if the one time he decided he didn’t want to see me again, he passed the job on to someone else and they just let it go?

I shivered with that thought fresh in my mind. To say I was scared was a gross understatement, the thought of all the ways this could go bad were enough to paralyze me with fear. There was only one reason I stood there in our master bathroom with a bath full of water and a toaster in my hands, already plugged in and ready for me to drop it in.

If I wanted him to talk to me, I had to force him to keep me out of harm’s way.

Nervousness nagged at the back of my mind, heart beating a million miles a minute against my ribcage, forcing me to take a deep inhale of fresh air, even if it was only to calm my nerves for a few seconds. A few seconds was enough to release my grip and pray that Tae would be there to rescue me.

With a last shake of my head, I thought up a quick “I love you” to the universe as if the universe would deliver my message to my friends and family if things didn’t go as planned. And with that, I dropped the small appliance.

The moment it slipped from my fingers, I clenched my eyes tight and waited for the shock to ripple through my body in powerful waves, but nothing came. In fact, time itself seemed to slow down as a large clanging against the wall forced my eyes open, right as a tall, dark figure wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me out of the tub to press me against the wall adjacent. 

Taehyung stood there, fuming in anger as his gaze bored into mine, hands gripping tightly to me and keeping me pressed against the wall, though I’m not sure if he was holding onto me to keep me steady or if he was preparing to murder me where I stood. To be fair, if it wasn’t for his hold on me, I would’ve slipped against the tile floor that puddled with the water leaking from the bottom half of my jeans. I added a mental note to myself that next time I do something like that again, I should prepare for it to actually work and actually wear a pair of shorts or something. But another problem for another time.

The sheer force in which Taehyung’s eyes glared into mine would normally have made me cower. But knowing I had to do something that stupid just to get him to talk to me again filled me with a burning anger that I didn’t know I had within me. With that newfound anger, I pushed back against his chest, my hands rebounding off his chest without moving him in the slightest. He dropped his hold on me and I stepped forward, my foot catching a slippery tile and making me bang my back against the wall roughly. A sharp pain shot through my back and Tae softened for a  moment, reaching out again to steady me before I finally exploded.

“No. Don’t touch me! I don’t even know where to begin right now!” I defiantly shoved his hands away from my body and crossed my arms over my chest once I balanced out a bit. 

“You? You?! The fuck did I do?” He argued, waving his hands in the air as if his gestures were defence enough for his stupid inhuman reactions.

“Oh, so you’re going to play stupid now, is that it? Really?” I barked, taking a step forward and poking a finger right against his tight chest. “I don’t know. How about the fact that you just walked out on me and never came back? What happened to having a normal fucking conversation like an adult?” He received a poke to his clothed peck with every word to emphasize what he’d done wrong.

Annoyed with me prodding at him in frustration, he grabbed my wrist at my last poke, holding my arm away from him and resumed the glaring. “You’re making this about me now? Are you going to completely ignore the fact that you almost just fried yourself? What the fuck were you thinking?!” He raised his voice, something he didn’t do often, and I naturally shied away from the loudness of his voice to keep my ears from ringing.

“Well I wouldn't have needed to do that had you come back to talk! Of course I tried to get your attention. I love you, you fucking moron,” I grunted, voice cracking at the end as tears instantly sprang to my eyes. Willing them away, I stood my ground and met Tae’s heated gaze with an unwavering one of my own. I wasn’t the one in the wrong. 

“We did talk. Yeah I left, but I did that after I said things weren’t going to work out between us.”

He wasn’t wrong. He did technically say that but it was spoken like a passive statement made in anger, a second before he disappeared to wherever the fuck he went to whenever he was upset with me. So I was just supposed to accept that was it after four and a half years and no idea what broke the two of us. Fuck that, he meant too much to me.

“I don’t understand why you keep saying that. I made one comment - one! - about kids to Sam and now you’re dead-set on not being with me? Why are you so angry about that?” My words came out in a pained whisper as I pleaded with him. I just wanted a response back, to know what was hurting him so I could try and fix it. 

His eyes shifted from mine repetitively, searching my face for something before he mumbled out, “Because I can’t give that to you.”

I froze, all but my heart coming to a halt as I processed his words. He couldn’t give that to me… Kids?

I couldn’t help the frown that framed my lips as his face morphed into one of discomfort, grimacing at himself. A pang of guilt smacked me right in the chest as his face fell. All of it began to make sense and I wasn’t sure if I made things better or worse by doing what I did.

“Tae…” I started, mouth agape as I tried to form some sort of response but I couldn’t think of one at that moment.

He straightened himself out and all visible evidence of his emotional expression was wiped clean off his features. “I can’t give you kids,” he repeated clearly, seemingly more for himself than for me.

Pride swelled up in me and I reached out to wrap my arms around his midsection to hug him close.

“Baby,” I cooed, a fresh wave of tears threatening to soak into his soft cotton shirt as I smothered my face against him, taking in his scent and his warmth. He returned the embrace, tightly hugging me back with his nose buried atop my head.

“You’re not mad at me,” he mumbled thoughtfully.

I shook my head against him, squeezing him that much tighter to reassure him. “I figured it wasn’t biologically possible, but there are plenty of ways for couples to have kids when they otherwise can’t themselves.”

I imagined his brows furrowing as he turned his head, resting the side of his plump cheek on top of my hair. “I don’t understand.”

Pulling back, I tilted my head to look him in the eyes and smiled supportively. Our kids don’t have to look like either of us to be ‘little Taehyungs’ or little ‘Y/Ns’.” I leaned back further and pressed my chin against the center of his chest, humming as he readjusted his embrace around me. “I’ll see you in the way they smile or laugh, all those little idiosyncrasies they pick up from you that make them you kids.”

Tae blinked with a blank expression on his face, staring me down without so much as a response to follow up. The longer he went without responding, the stronger my heart pounded in my chest. 

We never had any serious talks like that before because everything about our relationship was too complicated. Marriage and families weren’t even on our mind, at least not on mine until Sam was getting her own, and suddenly I realized how I’d love to have a family with Taehyung, no matter how unconventional. But there’s a chance that could’ve just been me. Maybe it was too early to be talking about that so Tae didn’t really have an opinion since he couldn’t have kids. Maybe he was trying not to hurt my feelings? God, I broke him.

I cleared my throat and opening my mouth to talk when he cut me off. “So you’re not mad that I…. you’re okay with it?”

“Of course I’m okay with it. Sure, I’m a teenie but sad they probably won’t have your boxy grin or your cute little nose freckle, but our kids would be cute regardless.” The anxiety I had towards his response was no longer a thought in my mind as I suddenly grinned, punctuating my statement with a kiss on his chin, which he playfully returned. But he didn’t stop there. Strong hands gripped the back of my thighs and urged me to jump, forcing my legs to wrap around his waist as he pushed us up against the wall once more, chaste kisses littered across the length of my face. Each peck tickled, giggles pouring past my lips as I scrunched my nose up and took all the comfort he gave. Lips trailed down my neck before he buried his face in the crook of my collarbone, happily sighing against ym skin with a happy hum.

The smile on my lips pinched at my cheeks, making my face ache with the strength of my happiness alone. I never knew he’d have such a human response to something like kids. It made my heart flutter to know that’s where his heart and mind were, that he wasn’t actually mad at me.

With determination, he pushed us off of the bathroom wall and opened the door to our shared bedroom, carrying me to the bed where he motioned to put me down.

“Babe, my pants are still wet,” I reminded him, to which he nodded and set me down a foot or so away to stand in front of him.

“Well, we’re going to solve that,” he quipped, reaching down between us to fumble with the button and zipper on my jeans while I grinned up at him. It wasn’t what I had in mind when planning this out but I sure as hell wasn’t going to complain.

He had a few issues with the clasping mechanics of my pants, a regular issue he was faced with, and grunted in irritation. I giggled, brushing back the long strands of hair behind his ear before a loud ripping sound pulled my attention.

“Baby! These are my favorite jeans!” I screeched at Taehyung, lips pouting as I admired the fresh rip down the center of the jeans that paralleled the zipper. You know, the zipper he could’ve just undone.

Lips pressed to my forehead as a chuckle rippled through his chest. “Not anymore, they’re not.” He meant it to tease but I still glared at him, not finding it in me to laugh at the expense of my favorite pair of jeans. “Sorry, I’ll buy you new ones,” he offered in a light-hearted tone, making me roll my eyes and return the kiss to his chin.

Lean fingers dipped into the waistband of my jeans, tugging them down my hips until they passed the curve of my ass. But the material from the thigh down was still sopping wet and made it even more entertaining to watch him struggle to slide the denim down my legs, coaxing another giggle from me.

“Fuck, why is this so difficult?” Tae let out a soft groan, giving up on his quest of removing the wet article and instead closing the distance between us, lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss.

“What about my pants? Not going to rip them all the way?” I wriggled my eyebrows and laughed when he rolled his eyes back.

“Pants or no pants, I’m still fucking you into the mattress.” His voice dripped with heat, his tone comparing to sex itself, sensual and deep, which made the words shoot straight down to my core.

As promised, he stalked towards me until the back of my knees pressed up against the edge of the bed. He didn’t miss a beat, cupping my face with his large palms and pulling me into a deep kiss that took away what little breath I had after his sexy statement. His tongue skimmed over the seam of my mouth, canines digging into the flesh of my bottom lip as he gave me that final push back onto the bed, lowering me down with a steady hold on my back until I was flush against the mattress with him hovering above me. Mouths lavished over one another, pulling the other into each other as far as our bodies would let us until the lack of oxygen forced me to pull away for a moment.

I wasted no time in pulling the white shirt from his black dress slacks, untucking his usual orderly work clothes so I could dip my hand under the smooth material to feel his bare warmth against my fingers. Each little divot and bulge across his stomach only added to the arousal gathering between my legs, allowing my fingers to explore the clothed spaced with the image of him naked on my mind.

The thought of that alone drove me mad, thighs instinctively rubbing together to relieve some of the pent up pressure. But doing so only reminded me of the pants I still had clinging to the lower part of my legs, the tight and uncomfortable sticky feeling causing a slight bubble of irritation to well up within me.

“Bab-” I started, cut off by Tae’s lips roughly soothing over mine with a kiss deeper than the one before it. It was his mission to explore my mouth, delving deep inside to slide his tongue along mine in a dance for passion, not power. There was no struggle in the kiss, which was different - a good different that made my heart beat just a little bit harder for him.

“Sh, ignore the pants,” Taehyung whispered against my lips and I had to force down the eyeroll that almost surfaced at such a dismissive response.

As I was about to protest further, Tae parted from the kiss and pushed himself from the bed, kneeling down on the floor and pushing my legs up until they tucked up to my chest to expose my clothed core for his eyes to feast on. The tip of his tongue swiped across his lips before he dove down, pushing my panties out of the way to dip a finger shallowly into my sopping heat. I moaned softly, holding onto my ruined jeans with one hand and sneaking the other around to his head, intertwining my fingers in his soft, chestnut locks.

Without warning, Tae pushed his finger in to the knuckle and lowered his head to hungrily lap at my clip over my already soaked underwear, ripping a moan forcefully from my throat. He moaned in return, any noise that left my mouth only adding to his determination to work me up and get me as wet as inhumanly possible. He sped up his pace, curling the tip of his finger to stroke the pad of his fingertip along the rough patch at the top, the spot that made my mind go blank and left me a mumbling mess for him to please. He always knew how to hit the right place, each and every time together was spent as a new learning experience for him to map out and worship my body as I did his.

A few pumps later, Tae placed a sloppy, wet kiss along the inside of my thigh before adding a finger to the one already thrusting into my cunt at a moderate pace. The stretch burned despite how slender his fingers were, always filling me up nicely. Brushing against a particular spot deep within me, I was left gasping for air, tugging the strands at the top of his head as I attempted to buck my hips against his hand to meet each of his thrusts, my sopping pussy tembling around his fingers.

“Fuck, baby. You always take me so fucking well,” he praised, leaving a few stray kisses along my thigh to accompany the faster pace he’d set, working his fingers into me as if he could do it all fucking night long.

“Mmh, Tae,” I groaned, abandoning the grip on my legs to ground myself against the duvet underneath.

“What, baby? What do you want?” Rougher kisses were pressed into the length of my thigh and along my wet mound, tongue practically dancing everywhere but my clit to tease me.

“Tae-Tae, I want you in me. Please.”

Despite the urgency in my request, Tae peeked around my legs with a softened look, eyes kind as his body smile outshines the gloss of arousal painting his lips and chin.

“Yeah? Where do you want me, baby? Here?” He asked with a slide of his fingers across my g-spot, causing my thighs to quake as I fought off the softest hint of an orgasm. I nodded and begged him for his cock while he rubbed the remainder of my slick from his face and onto his sleeve, towering over me once again as he climbed up the bed once again, having stripped himself of his clothes. The heat returned to his gaze as he devoured my body with his eyes, not needed for me to be naked in order to let his imagination run wild. 

Leaving a soft kiss against my lips, he pushed back to sit on his knees and lifted my legs up until my feet rested against the top of his shoulder. The position we were in gave him the perfect view of my ruined panties, his eyes lit up with a heat unlike anything I’d ever seen from him before as he traced the material with his fingertip. 

“You want me to fuck a baby into you?” He asked, fighting the blush that creeped up his neck and into his ears as he stayed locked onto my clothed pussy. 

His words made me giddy, the thought of him fucking me and getting me pregnant with his child adding fuel to our very passionate fire. “Please, I want your baby, Tae,” I whined. He dragged his cockhead against my clothed core, earning a grunt from us both. With a push of my panties to the side and a gentle rock of his hips against my own, the entirety of his cock slid into me, walls protested the stretch his thick girth gave despite the prep, drawing a synchronized moan from us. 

“Oh fuck, babe,” I groaned, fisting the sheets beneath me as his grip aropund my legs tightened. He stilled when the last inch of his cock sank into me, the tremble in his breath telling me he felt the tightness in this position too. Without warning, he dragged his hips back, exposing everything but the tip of his cock before he quickly thrusted back in. 

He continued his languid pace while pressing open kisses to my foot just beneath the hem of the jeans, nails raking against the flesh of my thigh before his eyes flickered down to me. 

I gasped when he adjusted the angle of his hips and targeted my g-spot without miss, setting a punishing pace with his hips as he suddenly drove his cock into me roughly. I moaned out, teeth capturing my bottom lip to contain the sounds his actions were tearing from my throat. 

With a grunt, Tae switched our positions, lowering himself down until his shoulders nestled in the hollow of my knees, face ducking down to pull my lips into a kiss as he resumed his powerful thrusts into my aching pussy.

The new position had every part of my body humming in happiness, the surface of my flesh tingling with each thrust he gave until my eyes shut. Our lips danced together, tongues stealing tastes of one another as the little sounds we made were muted by the other. I fisted a hand in his sweaty hair, using the brunette strands to ground me against his assault against my hips. I tried to meet his thrusts, but the awkward position left me lying there, unable to move, as I took his cock as he gave it. 

I tightened around him, loving the way I felt every ridge of his thick length as it disappeared from my cunt and pushed back inside to hit me in all the right places. After so many thrusts against that spot deep within me, a pressure built up in my lower stomach that burned, growing in size with each pump of his cock until I whined, needing pressure on my clit to push me over that final edge.

Knowing exactly what I wanted, he snuck a hand between us and used the slick on my thighs to wet his thumb before swiping rigorously against my sensitive clit. I mewled in pleasure at the contact, throwing my head back and parting our lips as loud whines and moans leaked from my mouth. It was almost too much, the combination of his hand and his cock throwing me over the edge faster than I could ever get myself off, pushing me over that ledge and into my orgasm. 

I mumbled incoherently as my spasming cunt only drove Taehyung to ride out into his own orgasm, continuing his brutal pace until his cock twitched and stilled inside me, filling me to the brim with his seed.

We stayed that way for a few minutes, taking the time to catch our breaths and return to reality. My body protested him pulling his limp cock from my oversensitive hole, making me grimace. When he pulled back and released my legs from his grip, I groaned at the stiffness in my legs from being in that position for a while, but completely forgot about that as goosebumps fluttered over my skin and brought my attention back down to the soaked jeans I still had on my body. 

Taehyung noticed my shivering and gave a small laugh, deciding to help me out and finally rip each of the legs until the material wasn’t too tight to remove. Sticking to the stripping, I took off my top and unclasped my bra, flinging both across the room to deal with later as Tae stood at the edge of our bed, between my legs. His eyes locked onto the cum dripping from my pussy and he couldn’t contain a grin as he reached forward and swiped a drop up onto his finger to push it back inside of me. 

“Well, at least we’ll know for sure,” Tae murmured to himself. 

“Hm?” I hummed, reaching out with grabby hands for him to come join me on the bed, which he did with a soft smile and a peck to the nose.

“I’ve always assumed we can’t have kids. I guess now we’ll figure out whether I was right or wrong.”

[tigerdrop]

Cringe is dead, talk to me about the funny half-life men and their relationship

okay here is my essay. it is titled These Guys Actually Like Each Other, and Gordon Freeman Is Just Kind Of A Dick*

(disclaimer: these are just my 2 cents. dont take me too seriously! im just some guy online who has watched this shit too many times.)

first things first. these guys actually like each other. this is a key aspect of their relationship. benrey, obviously and textually, digs gordon freeman - you dont flirt that heavily with guys you arent into, and so much of what he says and does is geared around making gordon crack up. thats pretty gay.

but the counterpart to this is that gordon freemans pretty fucking gay for benrey, too. you may say, “oh, but word of god says its not requited!” and to you i will say: bull shit. gordon is uniquely obsessed with benrey compared to all the other characters. if gordon didnt like the fucking guy, he wouldnt giggle with him and share in-jokes with him and bring him up every 5 seconds when benreys not around. thats concern, bro. thats worry. thats real shit

but i cant blame people for thinking that gordon freeman genuinely doesnt like benrey. benreys partially responsible for some of the worst things that have happened to him, the Arm Thing among them. and gordons very insistent afterward that he doesnt like benrey. he even goes so far as to try to kill benrey a couple times. to this, i must argue that gordon freeman is just kind of a dick.

lets talk facts here. canon. Lore. from the moment we hop into gordons shoes, we can see that he is a jerk to every npc on his way into black mesa. this is his default: a dude who just runs his mouth and says rude shit. he calls tommy a freak within 5 minutes of meeting him. he infantilizes the guy and barely considers him a real scientist. he doubts that bubby is a real name for like no fuckin reason. in “real life”, this is because its funny, and wayne is trying to make a funny half-life stream. in a textual sense, this is because gordon “hlvrai” freeman is a dick. this is the way he acts, consistently, throughout the series.

(brief aside: this is why the whole “gordon is a nice guy and a great dad” characterization baffles me. the way he actually acts in canon is, in short, bitchy and lacking in self-awareness. and i love that for him, i really do. it makes the moments where he just tries to be a nice guy stand out. but thats the thing: his intermittent moments of decency and kindness are not the whole of his personality! this dude kind of sucks most of the time!)

the way that gordons general asshole attitude extends to benrey is complicated. in fairness, benrey makes it his job to annoy the shit out of gordon as much as possible, and that warrants a negative attitude, but gordons pretty paranoid and ends up blaming benrey for nearly everything that happens to him, regardless of if its warranted. this is a pattern he exhibits both before and after the Arm Thing. its a little bit of a dick move! especially considering that, prior to the whole “betrayal” subplot (which was not exactly planned very far in advance), benrey is no more malicious or annoying than anybody else gordons having to travel with.

(okay, this is kind of a subjective evaluation, but still. my point stands that benrey is not any more of a hindrance to his progress than anybody else in the science crew, and neither is he particularly more violent or murderous. hell, gordon freeman has probably killed more guys than benrey. benrey just tends to get.......special treatment.)

all that said, i am still convinced that gordon really fucking likes benrey. please consider with me the following: it would be remarkably easy for gordon to just ignore him and do what he has to do, but he doesnt. he could stop engaging. he could stop thinking about benrey. he could stop bringing benrey up to the rest of the crew every time benrey leaves to do his own thing for awhile. but he doesnt. and, again, yeah, the extra-textual reason for this is “two guys are doing an improv comedy thing and bouncing off of scorpy is kind of the point”, but within the text it reads to me as gordon not being about to get the dude off his mind.

and this is in addition to all the times we see gordon being genuinely nice and receptive toward benrey! its in the little things: laughing the hardest and longest at benreys jokes. only ever reciprocating that stupid underwater “BBBBB” thing with benrey. trying to catch benrey when he falls, despite his insistence moments earlier that benrey should hop in the wack ass crystal generator and get hypermurdered. fondly remarking that benreys sweet voice sounds beautiful. his sort of flustered responses to most of benreys overt flirting. none of this is the way normal people react to a guy they hate. this is all fuckin gay to me, man.

its this combination of the outward insistence that gordon hates benrey with his inner eagerness to be around him and think about him and engage with him that gives off strong “repression” vibes, to me. for whatever reason - pride, embarrassment, resentment - gordon maintains a front of hating the guy and wanting to kill him for a lot of the series, but it doesnt gel with the way he fucking giggles and plays along half the time that benrey starts fucking with him. its a game, and that game is one of the only ways gordon knows to manifest affection for him.

(remember “oh my god, hes got a knife!”? that was the gayest shit i ever seen in my life. tittering like a schoolgirl while benrey chases him around like “im gonna get you haha”. insanity.)

the cool thing about repression is that you can have it manifest in a lot of ways! and this is where things like “headcanons” and “my own personal affection for repressed bisexual men” come in. a lot of how i characterize their relationship is an extrapolation of a lot of things like gordons canonical insecurity issues/anxiety, gordons whole anti-bootboy thing screaming “internet wokeboy who means well but probably has a lot of repressed baggage” to me, etc.

how do you get massive amounts of sexual repression out of what you see in canon, you might ask? well. if wayne would stop having gordon talking about being jerked off by the suit, or talking about chugging a 40-gal drum of potion and having to hold his piss, or worrying about being eaten by benrey the moment he sees benrey at setscale 10, maybe i would have a higher opinion of gordon “hlvrai” freeman and whatever latent psychosexual issues hes got going on. but here we are

i havent even touched yet upon how benrey feels about gordon. this one is helpfully made a little more plain by the fact that benrey very much wants to suck his dick in canon. (i dont even have to go into details. we all know.) but IMO the best part about this ship isnt just that they dig each other, but how. benrey gets overtly flirtatious in the second half of the series, but IMO his preferred method of flirting is just fucking with gordon: chasing him with knives, shoving him around in a bathroom, trying to get scans of his feet. but all in like a slapstick, giggly, fun-and-games sense, you know? at least when it works.

a lot of the time, though, it doesnt work out that way. he clearly just likes doing it whether or not gordon responds positively. which is, you know, Weird. not very nice. but also in line with the way everybody else treats gordon freeman. gordons kind of the universes chew toy in any given universe, and the same holds true here. hes kind of helpless......subjected to 4 demons attempting to make his life as difficult as possible. in a way its cathartic.

sorry. i got sidetracked. anyway, benrey very much likes to mess with him and unnerve him and demean him and i will be perfectly frank with you: that is hot. i have problems and illnesses and one of them is that i am a masochist who goes crazy for that kind of thing. calling gordon a “dirty lil boy” and telling him to “look at the mess [he] made” is some straight up kink scene shit.

i like to imagine that a lot of this behavior isnt caused just by the guy who played him wanting to be funny and antagonistic, but by benrey as a character not really understanding what constitutes “pushing a joke too far”. hes not human, and whatever he is doesnt have a very normative way of understanding the world around him, full of people who actually get hurt for real and die for real. benrey expresses what seems to be genuine surprise and distress after the Arm Thing, as if he didnt know that his actions would have serious consequences. and it doesnt seem to fully sink in afterward, either.

it reads a lot to me like hes used to video game rules and treating people around him like NPCs. if they get hurt, its no big deal, because its not real. he likes jamming random buttons on gordons interface and seeing what comes out. its probably a lot of fun for him, the same way that seeing a streamer or a youtuber suffer for our amusement is fun. its like, you know, in my opinion, gordons very cute when hes frazzled. hes also cute when hes laughing. pushing gordons buttons has a 50/50 chance of either of these things. and this is how he ultimately flirts with gordon: by pulling his pigtails.

but at the same time, benrey does legit care about gordon and knows some boundaries. benreys the one most often shooting at enemies to protect gordon, and he spent most of the last act trying to convince gordon to turn around and not fight him because they were friends (best friends, to be specific). he just lacks a lot of the emotional intelligence it would take to express the feeling of “he digs gordon and likes seeing his face get all red and sweaty regardless of the cause”. and gordon lacks the emotional intelligence it would take to express the fact that he doesnt know if he likes or hates benrey and hes scared as hell that its the former

because, lets be real. unironic benrey-liking is a sign of problems disorder. just look at all these words ive written about it.

can you imagine? this bizarrely powerful, non-human entity that can shrug off gunfire and grow to the size of a building has decided that youre his new plaything. benreys the bored guy booting up skyrim and fucking around in the console, and gordons the hapless favorite follower that hes taken a liking to. its a really fun dynamic IMO

after all this, its safe to say my title is a little misleading. the asterisk stands for * and So Is Benrey, Actually. they are both kind of awful dudes who thrive off of teasing each other and they deserve each other. and i am crazy about it. thank u for coming to my TED talk

[esmeraldablazingsky]

I’ve finally hit my limit on the number of bad takes on the Lan parents I can see before I have to lay out all the reasons I disagree, so hello, I’m Blazie, and in this essay I will justify my visceral dislike of the assumption that Qingheng-jun married/imprisoned/had sex with Lan-furen against her will.

    Warning for mentions of rape (in context of Interpretations I Really Hate) and a very, VERY long post below the cut.

    Before I start going off about the finer points of all this, I want to make sure people are on the same page regarding what we actually know about what went down with Qingheng-jun and Lan-furen. What I say is based off the EXR translation of MDZS, for the sake of clarity, and although I don’t think the exact wording should be too important, feel free to let me know if you think I’ve missed an important bit of nuance or something (the whole story is in Chapter 64.)

    The story we get is told by Lan Xichen, and it goes like this: a young Qingheng-jun falls in love at first sight with Lan-furen, who doesn’t return his feelings, and at some point kills one of Qingheng-jun’s teachers over unspecified “grievances.” Although he’s understandably very upset over the murder, Qingheng-jun sneaks Lan-furen back to Cloud Recesses and officially marries her in order to announce to his clan that anyone who wants to hurt her has to go through him.

After that, he locks Lan-furen in one house and himself in another as a form of repentance. Wei Wuxian speculates that this was because “he could neither forgive the one who killed his teacher nor watch the death of the woman who he loved. He could only marry her to protect her life and force himself not to see her.” 

    A central detail of this story that I think people don’t give the import it deserves is that aside from marrying and protecting her, Qingheng-jun’s other option was to let Lan-furen be executed by his clan. His purpose in marrying her wasn’t just for kicks/out of a possessive sort of love, it was so she wouldn’t straight up die. How she felt about this arrangement isn’t stated, but I’ll get into that in a bit. In addition to that, Qingheng-jun and Lan-furen live separately, which was apparently purposeful on Qingheng-jun’s part, and runs counter to the interpretation that he intended to take sexual advantage of Lan-furen.

Though there aren’t many concrete details in Lan Xichen’s retelling, he does specifically inform Wei Wuxian that his mother never complained about remaining in her house. What exactly this signifies is unclear— whether she was simply putting on a brave face for her sons, or whether she was in fact at all content with the situation— but it at the very least serves to further muddy the waters on how she and Qingheng-jun felt about all this. 

Beyond what Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian are saying out loud, there’s also quite a bit of subtext in this scene, especially in light of later events and revelations, like Lan Xichen’s confession for Lan Wangji at Guanyin Temple. 

So what is Lan Xichen trying to convey with all this? There’s a lot of memes about this scene, most of which err too far on the side of Himbo Airhead Lan Xichen for my liking, but one that I do find amusing emphasizes how Lan Xichen draws parallels between Wangxian and the story of his parents (Lan Xichen: [flute solo] please use your one brain cell to connect the dots.) If Wei Wuxian hadn’t completely lost his memory of Lan Wangji defending him against his own clan elders, one would assume that Lan Xichen’s story would have had a much better chance of hitting home. 

In hindsight and side by side, the parallels are much clearer— Qingheng-jun, “ignoring the objections from his clan… told everyone in the clan that she would be his wife for the rest of his life, that whoever wanted to harm her would have to pass through him first.” Similarly, according to Lan Xichen in Chapter 99, “for [Wei Wuxian,] not only did WangJi talk back to him, he even met with his sword the cultivators from the GusuLan Sect. He heavily injured all thirty-three of the seniors we asked to come.”

In that context, it makes a lot less sense to interpret Qingheng-jun as an aggressor towards Lan-furen, as in Lan Wangji’s case, the narrative clearly establishes that his actions are to secure Wei Wuxian’s safety. The action of Taking Someone Back To Cloud Recesses is— okay, actually, it’s a little more nuanced than I took into account when I started writing that sentence, so let me go a little deeper into Lan Wangji’s actions and how they relate to his father’s, story-wise. 

My intent is not to dive into the terrifying underworld of novel-versus-drama discourse, but simply put, Novel!Lan Wangji as he is written isn’t exactly the poster child for clear consent. (I’m going to entirely leave off the extra chapters for the sake of everyone’s sanity, so I’m just talking about the main body of the novel here.)

He means well, and I’m sure we can agree that he does actually love and want the best for Wei Wuxian, but his lack of communication on this point means that he accidentally gives Wei Wuxian the impression that he wants to imprison and/or punish him in Cloud Recesses at least twice off the top of my head (pre-timeskip, as we know, and post-timeskip immediately after Dafan Mountain when he actually drags Wei Wuxian back to his room.) 

That all likely has something to do with MXTX’s narrative kinks and regular kinks and all that, and can absolutely be taken with many grains of salt. However, these events establish how easy it is to misinterpret the action of Taking Someone Back To Gusu as an attempt to imprison rather than protect them (much to Lan Wangji’s chagrin.)

Failing to communicate his purpose to Wei Wuxian doesn’t mean that Lan Wangji actually had any intent of hurting or caging him— that was just a misinterpretation on Wei Wuxian’s part, and we, as the audience, find that out in due time— but as written in the novel, it can be really uncomfortable to read. Because of that, many people choose to accept CQL canon regarding Lan Wangji’s more possessive actions or mix characterization from different adaptations, which, to be clear, I completely understand and respect. 

However, Qingheng-jun doesn’t get the benefit of the doubt as often, which I frankly find baffling, because nowhere in the text does it state that Lan-furen objected to being taken back to Cloud Recesses, while even Wei Wuxian clearly objected the first few times. In fact, while we’re on this note, I’ll take it a step farther— I find it baffling that people seem to default to an unsympathetic view of Qingheng-jun, because nowhere in the text does it state that he overruled Lan-furen’s wishes in any way. The text doesn’t clarify a lot of things, actually, and that is part of the point. 

The narrators of MDZS are, in many situations, highly unreliable. This is, presumably, very purposeful! MDZS can easily be read as a sharp criticism of reputation and mass judgment and the concept of condemning people without knowing their motives! And I don’t want to sound mean, but guys… did any of us learn anything from that? Here, I’m going to put it in meme format for a second to convey what I mean. 

MDZS: It’s easy to condemn someone as a villain if you don’t know their story or the reasons behind their actions

MDZS: Anyway, here’s a character whose story and reasons behind his actions you know nothing about

Some Parts Of This Fandom: Ah, a villain 

    Memes aside, here’s what I want to point out. It’s entirely possible to assume Qingheng-jun was a bad person who disregarded a woman’s wishes in marrying and confining her when all you have is Lan Xichen’s (actually very neutral, thank you Lan Xichen for being an eminently reasonable and concerned-with-evidence character) account of what happened. It would also be at least that easy to assume Wei Wuxian was just an evil necromancer if he hadn’t un-died and brought his own story to light, or even to believe that Lan Wangji had somehow tamed Wei Wuxian into submission and being a respectable cultivator if you were an average citizen of Fantasy Ancient China with nothing but rumors to operate on. 

    The thing about Qingheng-jun and Lan-furen’s story, then, is that there is nobody left alive who knows the full tale. Nobody knows what they thought about anything, really. Nobody even knows why Lan-furen killed Qingheng-jun’s teacher. Wei Wuxian asks why, and Lan Xichen can’t tell him, but I think the best answer would be something along the lines of I don’t know, Wei Wuxian, why did you kill people? Your guess on the motivations of your own thinly disguised narrative parallel are as good as anyone’s. 

    So, while it’s not technically impossible to assign darker motives to Qingheng-jun, the cautionary tale of MDZS seems to warn against that exact assumption. 

    I’ve refrained from getting too salty on a personal level thus far, but now that I’ve said a lot of the more logical and story-based points of my argument, I will say that at least some of my annoyance with the interpretation of Qingheng-jun as a possessive rapist and Lan-furen as his victim stems from the fact that I just think it’s straight up boring. Where’s the nuance? Aren’t you tired of reducing these characters to the flattest possible versions of themselves? Don’t you just want to add a little flavor? 

    In a slightly more serious phrasing of that criticism, I find that making Lan-furen a helpless prisoner strips her of whatever agency she might otherwise have. To be fair, she’s more or less a non-character in keeping with the general state of the MDZS universe, but making her a damsel in distress only consigns her more deeply to hapless, milquetoast innocence. 

    It’s perfectly valid to enjoy ladies who have done nothing wrong, ever, in their lives, but like… Qin Su is right there, if that’s your ball game. There’s also really no need to make Qingheng-jun someone who doesn’t respect women. Isn’t Jin Guangshan enough for at least one universe? 

    Anyway, ultimately, you do you. I don’t like arguing on the internet, and will just ignore things I don’t agree with (or write an 1800 word vaguepost) like a mature human being. I’m just saying, if it’s a cut and dry tale of imprisonment and assault you’re looking for… you probably don’t want to turn to a woman who committed a murder and a man who loved her enough to forfeit everything to keep her safe. 

[golden-babbles]

A Taste of Strength

Pro Hero!Katsuki Bakugo x Fem!Pro Hero!reader

Warnings: Straight up smut. 18+ ONLY!!! Sorta mutual pining, slight voyeurism, oral sex (both male/fem), vaginal fingering, a little body worship, I guess? Muscle kink, unprotected sex, light choking, hair pulling

Summary: You ask Bakugo to help you develop your workout routine. Surprisingly enough, he actually has a flirtatious side to him. And he doesn’t seem to be bothered in the slightest by your threats.

Inspiration: Teeth by 5 Seconds of Summer, Beast by Mia Martina, You've Seen the Butcher by Deftones (aka snippets of my workout playlist lol)

Word Count: 7k, damn. Got a little carried away here 

A/N: This is my submission for @butterscotchbaku‘s 1k “New Year, New Kink” event! Congrats again, baby. You deserve all the love and kisses. Let's gooooooo. Unintentionally added some good workout advice to this lmao. Might need more editing, I’ll check tomorrow.

Your pencil wiggled back and forth between your fingers as you leaned one elbow against the long conference table, your swivel chair turned to face your boss, who stood at one end of the table with a PowerPoint. You listened to Mirko drone on about recent villain appearances, the importance of avoiding property damage, and some other subjects that you had long tuned out. The lack of new information had you bored, listening to the same spiel you got at the end of every day, and instead you found your mind wandering. 

Your position in the chair behind his allowed you a perfect view of Katsuki Bakugo's toned shoulders and flexed bicep, your eyes tracing the muscle down to where his elbow rested against the table and following his forearm to where his fingers absent-mindedly played with his bottom lip, squeezing and pulling. It seemed to be a habit of his, demonstrating that he had also lost interest, while still quietly listening to what Mirko had to say. 

Your eyes glued to his lips as you watched his movements. They seemed so soft and plush, and you could just imagine them against yours, and pressing into your skin, travelling down your stomach, until-

"Rumble." At the sound of your hero name, your attention snapped back to Mirko briefly, the pencil flung from your hand in surprise. Then your eyes went wide as you saw it lightly smack against Bakugo's cheek before falling to the floor. He turned to growl at you, eyebrows drawn down into a scowl, but was quickly stopped by a quick "Can it, Dynamight," from your boss. 

You looked back to your Mirko and blushed at her knowing gaze. She chose not to call you out on your mental remoteness. "You two have been patrolling together for almost a month now," she gestured between you and Bakugo. "Anything the team should know?" 

You shook your head and Bakugo crossed his arms in irritation as you said, "Our sector's been pretty empty. Just a few petty robbers here and there, but nothing noteworthy." 

Mirko nodded and moved on to the next team's reports. Most were much the same as yours, with a few reporting some suspicious activities that had been passed on to the police force. You continued to watch Bakugo as the meeting went on, secretly pining and plotting ways to get him to spend time with you outside of your job. Your eyes glanced between his biceps and yours and an idea sparks in your mind as the meeting ended and people began to file out until it was just you and Bakugo left in the room, both of you gathering your equally detailed notes. 

"Hey, Bakugo?" He grunted and cut his eyes to yours, and you took it as a signal to continue. "Could I ask you a favor?"

"Depends. What do you want?" He eyes you warily, obviously curious as to what you could possibly want from him. 

"Would you, um, help me with my workouts? I've been trying to get into more weight training, but…" Your hand came up to scratch behind your neck nervously. "I don't really know what I'm doing when it comes to that stuff, and I know you work out a lot, so if you'd be willing, I would love some pointers." You raised your gaze back up to meet his crimson gaze.

He shrugged and went back to gathering his things. "Sure, whatever, I guess." 

You grinned and slung your bag over your shoulder. "Awesome, I'll text you to plan." He grunted again in response, and your grin stayed plastered on your face for the whole walk to your car. 

***

A few days later, you and Bakugo had a day off and had agreed to meet at the agency's gym. You wore a black cropped tank top over your favorite sports bra and short shorts, showing off your body as you walked into the state of the art facility that Mirko had designed herself. You carried your duffel bag to the locker room and deposited it into a locker before heading back out into the gym, assuming you'd find Bakugo near the weightlifting equipment.

It was easy to spot the spiky blonde standing beside a rack full of different free weights, since the gym wasn't very crowded anyway. He looked scrumptious in a black compression tank that showed off the muscles in his chest and abdomen and dark grey shorts that stopped just above his knees, giving you a peak at his well-defined thighs. You had to resist the urge to lick your lips as his head lifted and he noticed you walking toward him.  

You smirked as you watched his eyes widen in surprise, then rake over your exposed skin. Unlike most female heroes, your hero costume was actually quite modest, consisting of black cargo pants and a tight-fitting v-neck muscle tank, along with your support items. It gave you plenty of mobility, an important necessity for your quirk, which allowed you to manipulate any materials derived from earth. You were often compared to the earthbenders from Avatar: The Last Airbender, and you would be lying if you said you hadn't stolen some of your moves from Toph. 

Since your costume kept you so well covered, you realized that this was the first time that Bakugo had ever seen so much of your body, and you could almost swear you saw the tips of his ears flush pink as he turned away from you with a huff. 

"What do you want to start with?" He asked gruffly, opting to face the weight rack instead of facing you. 

"I was thinking I'd like to focus on my arms and shoulders, since that's where most of my focus is when I'm using my quirk." You began to stretch your arms and shoulders as you listened for his response, your music still thumping quietly in one ear. 

"That's fine for today, but your legs are vital too, since they provide the base for your movements. Most of your moves force you to lunge and squat, and sometimes hold those positions, so your leg strength is just as important." He lifted a set of 50 pound dumbbells off the rack and set them aside, presumably for himself, then looked up to meet your wide eyes.

"You really pay that much attention to my moves?" You continued to stretch, but your face showed very clear surprise, and this time you were certain that you saw a blush painted on his cheeks as he turned away from you once more. 

"Yeah, well, you're my partner, so…" he trailed off and your eyebrows creased in confusion as he picked up a pair of 70 pound dumbbells and set them beside the 50s. 

"Okay, I hope those are both for you." You gestured to the two pairs of dumbbells now sitting on the bench and he shook his head. 

"Nope, you're taking the 50s. We're starting with shrugs. I'll show you." He easily lifts the 50 pound weights and hands them off to you, checking to make sure that you have a good grip on them before shifting to your side to teach you the exercise.

"I've done shrugs before, I know how to work my traps." You rolled your eyes, prepared for mansplaining. 

"I'm sure, I just want to make sure that you're doing them correctly, so that you don't hurt yourself." He was surprisingly polite and delightfully physical as he explained how to position your head and neck to avoid strain on your spine. He moved behind you and gripped your biceps as he explained the movement, going over how you should lift your shoulders slowly, squeeze your traps at the top, and then slowly release back to your starting position, bending your arms slightly to counteract your shoulders' forward motion and avoiding rolling your shoulders on the release. 

Your heartbeat quickened as he touched you with calloused hands, and you found it difficult to pay attention to what he was saying, but it seemed that he was satisfied with your performance when he stepped back around your body to face you once more. 

"Got it?" He asked. "Those weights should be just right for you for this, but do you feel any strain in your shoulders?" 

You shook your head. "No, I'm just used to working with low weight, high reps." 

"Low weight, high reps is good for muscular endurance, but high weight, low reps is good for muscular strength. We're focusing on the latter for now." You were shocked at how patient he was being and how he explained things to you so calmly, completely contrary to the Bakugo that you were used to.

"Thanks again for helping me out. I really appreciate it." 

He grunted and his usual scowl returned to his face. "It's nothing."

***

You had been meeting with Bakugo for weight training fairly regularly for a few weeks now, alternating between muscle groups to avoid being too sore on the job and making sure to cover different strength and endurance exercises to optimize your workouts. 

Today, you were finishing up your workout with a set of bench presses, sweat dripping down your forehead as your arms bent, then straightened, your movements growing a little sluggish with exertion. You were glad to have Bakugo standing over you, hands outstretched and ready to catch the bar if your muscles failed you. 

"One more, c'mon. Don't be weak." You scoffed as you pressed out one more rep, then sighed in relief as he helped you guide the bar into the pegs it rested on, taking a few deep breaths as you laid on the bench before you sat up. 

"Weak, my ass. This is the most I've lifted since we started." You grinned to yourself at the accomplishment and stood, coming face to face with a smirking Bakugo. 

"I know that ass isn't weak, we've worked glutes too." You squeaked when his hand tapped your asscheek lightly as he passed you, grabbing more weights to add to the bar. "Don't insult my personal training, I'm the best trainer around."

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at his ever-present arrogance, thinking that you shouldn't be surprised at how cocky and bold he'd been in the few weeks that the two of you had been working out together, surprising you with a flirtatious side that you hadn't expected him to have. He had slowly slipped from gruff and standoffish to flirty and bold.

"Whatever, just lay down and finish this set so I can shower, then  go home and take a bubble bath." You took up the position he had been in earlier, your legs spread and ready to squat, knowing that it would take you more effort to catch the weight that he was lifting. 

This time it was his turn to scoff. "I don't take orders from you, princess." But he hefted the weight bar anyway, and you followed it with a squat as you spotted him, legs straightening when he pressed up. 

"You know, I really don't mind this view." Your eyes darted down to his face, eyebrows narrowing as you glared at him, finding him blatantly staring at your chest as you squatted down again, following the bar. 

"Don't be crass, Katsuki." You chided, and he snickered. 

"I told you, I don't take orders from you." His statement made you roll your eyes, but you said nothing in return. "Anyway, you're lucky you get to shower. Men's showers aren't working right now. Someone punched a hole in the wall and busted one of the pipes or something." 

He easily continued his reps while carrying on a conversation with you and you found yourself frustrated that he didn't seem to be working as hard as you were. You chose to channel your irritation into teasing him, and grinned sadistically at the prospect. 

"Are you sure you aren't the one that punched through the wall?" He scoffed at your question, but didn't seem to have anything to say about it. "Well, that's good to know. I'll be able to take a nice, hot, steamy shower after this, and you're stuck in your sweat until you get home. Sucks to suck." 

He grunted at you as he finished his last rep, and your hands grabbed the bar to help him guide it back onto its pegs. He sat up and swing his left leg over the bench so that he was sitting sideways on the firm cushions, and turned his head to look at you. The smirk on his face let you know to be prepared to roll your eyes. 

"You could always let me join you. There's no one else here but us." His hand stretched out in a sweeping gesture, and your eyes glanced around the gym to see that the two of you were, indeed, the only ones left in the gym. Not necessarily a surprising fact, considering that it was nearing 9 pm. You rolled your eyes anyway. 

"In your dreams, blasty boi." You muttered. 

He held his smirk as you moved to one side of the bar as he took up the other, the two of you removing the weighted plates and returning them to the storage racks. As he walked over to the wall to grab a wipe for the bench, you turned toward the women's locker room and brought your hand up in a wave. 

"G'night, Bakugo." Then you turned to look at him over your shoulder, with hooded eyes and a mocking flirt in your tone. "Join me in the showers if you want a swift kick in the balls." 

You heard him snickering behind you as he wiped off the bench, and you shook your arms out and did some light stretches as you made your way to the locker rooms. 

Once you stepped inside the locker room, you sighed, and smacked your palm to your forehead in frustration. Dammit, y/n, if only you could be bold enough to actually invite him to shower with you. The two of you have been flirting for weeks now, clearly you both want it. Why didn't you take that opportunity? 

You puffed out your cheeks in an exhale as you brought your hand down and moved to the locker you had stuffed your bag into, grabbing your soap and a towel, then making your way to one of the shower stalls. You didn't bother to close the door behind you as you turned the water on and hummed, waiting for it to warm up before you stepped underneath the stream. 

~Bakugo’s POV~

Bakugo watched you walk away as he continued to wipe down the bench, eyes focused on the way your ass filled out your shorts, and watching your calves flex with each step you took. He dropped the wipe he had been using in a trash can as he made his way toward the men's locker room, which was on the same wall as the women's, just a bit further down. 

He contemplated as he went. Was that an invitation? I mean, sure, she said it came with a price, but she didn't seem to be opposed to the idea or anything. After all the flirting she's been sending my way? This thought brought another of his trademark smirks to his lips. Tch, who am I kidding. Of course she'd want to be with me! I'm the best! And so is she. 

Bakugo's pace picked up as he made his decision, quickly grabbing his bag from the locker he had left it in, then making his way into the women's locker room, glancing around the gym once more as he passed through, to make sure that there was no one else around. 

Bakugo looked around as he stepped inside the women’s locker room. He didn’t see you, but he saw your gym bag sprawled across one of the benches, and heard a shower running around the corner. He smirked to himself as he set his bag down beside yours on the bench and kicked his shoes and socks off, then stepped around the corner. 

His eyes widened as he took in the sight of you standing naked beneath the stream of water, fingertips massaging shampoo into your hair as you hummed a tune he didn’t recognize, swaying your hips lightly in what was probably a subconscious move, but tantalized him nonetheless. He took a seat on the bench across from the shower and watched you as you turned to face the showerhead, and his eyes snapped downward, focusing on the curve of  your ass and reveling in the fact that he had helped to develop those delicious glutes. A tent was just beginning to form in his shorts when you turned back around, opening your eyes and bending to reach for a bottle on the floor. 

Your eyes snapped to his and you froze, staring at him.

~Your POV~

Your hands scrubbed shampoo into a lather in your hair as you continued to hum, eyes closed and hips swaying along to the beat in your head. The water had warmed up to a heat that was just barely comfortable, steaming around you and relaxing your thoroughly worked muscles. When you turned to rinse the shampoo from your hair, you let your mind wander as the steam wrapped around you like a blanket, imagining Bakugo's hands over your hips as you danced along to the song that had been stuck in your head all day.

Once you had washed away all of the shampoo, you turned back toward the opening of the stall to reach for your conditioner, but froze when your eyes landed on Bakugo, sitting on a bench across from your shower, fully clothed with his arms crossed and that damned smirk on his face. You stayed frozen, hand outstretched for the forgotten bottle, for what could have been seconds or hours, you really weren't sure, before Bakugo finally spoke up. 

"Well, I believe you owe me a swift kick in the balls." You watched him kick off his tennis shoes and toe off his socks before he stood and stalked toward you. "Or were you just trying to hide the fact that you actually wanted me to join you?" He stopped a few feet from the stall, and you sucked in a breath as you regained your composure and narrowed your eyes in a glare. 

"No. Get the fuck out." You crossed your arms over your chest and cocked a hip to one side, standing firmly and trying to project confidence, though your thighs squeezed together at the thought of the fantasies you had just been daydreaming about coming true. "How long have you been there anyways?"

"Just long enough to enjoy the show. No to the kick to the balls or no you don't want me to join you?" He pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the side, revealing his perfectly toned chest and abs, glistening with sweat from your workout. You were forced to swallow as your eyes raked over his exposed torso, and you struggled to retain your resolve not to fuck him right here on the shower floor. 

"Um…" was all that you managed to get out, eyes glued to the way his chest rose and fall with each even breath. 

He propped one hand against the edge of the shower stall, leaning against it as he looked into your eyes.

"Tell me you want me to go, and I'll go." Then he reached out to grip your chin in his thumb and forefinger. "But tell me to stay and I'll fuck you so hard, you'll need that bubble bath when you get home." 

You whimpered as he finished the statement, feeling the last of your resolve melt away. 

"Well?" He asked, leaning his face in closer to yours. "What'll it be?" 

"S-stay." You whispered, not nearly loud enough to be heard over the running water. 

"Hmm? What was that, dumbass?" He teased, fingers tracing along your jaw. 

"Stay, please." You managed to blurt it out at an audible volume this time, and he groaned in response, stepping in close to you with one hand gripping your hip and the other moving to tangle in the hair at the nape of your neck as his lips crashed against yours. 

You moaned into his mouth and brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. He took the opportunity to tangle his tongue with yours, claiming your mouth in a burning, desperate kiss. 

His hands come up to squeeze your ass, then he pulls back, standing just outside the stream of water from the showerhead. He presses one hand to your shoulder, forcing you to step back until your back is against the stall. He stares into your eyes as he tears off his shorts and boxers, tossing them aside and giving you only a moment to widen your eyes at his hard cock before his mouth is on yours once more.

“Jump.” He commands and you don’t hesitate, hopping up to wrap your legs around his waist. He groaned as the muscles in your thighs flexed against his skin, your now-dripping cunt pressed against his abs.

Now that he stood fully naked, you tightened your arms around his neck and pressed your lips against his once more, your tongues fighting for dominance. You retained the death grip that your thighs held on his waist when he stepped away from the shower wall, your back becoming cold for just a moment before he stepped through the water and placed you against a new wall. This time it was the tile wall that the showerhead rested in, allowing the steaming water to pour over his back and your legs as you continued to make out.

He pulled back when he felt you smile against his lips and stared at your upturned lips as he asked, "What's so funny?" 

Your smile widened and you fought back a giggle. 

"I'm not laughing, Katsuki. I'm happy."

His nose scrunched up in an adorably irritated way. "Why are you smiling like that?" 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Just kiss me, dumbass.”

He growled and you gasped as his hands slid from your ass to your thighs. “Stand up.”

You let your legs drop from his waist one at a time, until your feet were planted firmly on the ground and you felt his hands slide up to grip your waist. Your lips were captured in another searing kiss, then Bakugo’s teeth bit lightly into your bottom lip, tugging gently as he pulled away and then released it. He tilted his head to the side and leaned into your neck, licking a stripe along your jugular before nipping at the sensitive spot just below your ear. You moaned and tilted your head back against the wall, squeezing your eyes shut as Bakugo continued to kiss his way downward. He planted kisses on your breasts and ghosted his breath over your nipples, moving further down your body to kiss your ribs and your stomach. His lips moved to your hips and then he was kneeling on the tiled floor and pressing his nose to your mound as his tongue darted out to press against your clit. 

You gasped aloud, hips rising to meet his face as his tongue lapped at your folds. Your hands came up to thread through his soaked blonde locks, gripping tightly to ground yourself. You felt more than heard him groan at your actions as he continued his ministrations.

~Bakugo’s POV~

Bakugo groaned as your strong fingers pulled on his hair, and his fingers moved to wander across your thighs, digging into the hard muscle there. His lips traveled down the inside of one of your thighs, kissing and sucking on the muscles he found there. He groaned against your thigh.

“I love these legs. The muscles that we worked so hard for.” He nipped playfully at the skin just inside your knee, and your thigh flexed at the action.

“Hey, the muscles that I worked so hard for. All you did was yell at me.” You pouted adorably down at him. 

He chuckled and leaned into your other thigh, again alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting. Your thighs flexed with each movement, and it made him sigh against you, reveling in the hard muscle that he had helped cultivate. He loved the feel of your thighs, loved knowing that you may be the only woman that could almost match him physically, and that he had helped get you to that level. 

One of his hands moved down to squeeze at your well-defined calf, fingertips digging into the flesh slightly before he tugged it gently, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder as his mouth began to travel back up your thighs, right where you wanted him. His breath made you shudder, just before his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. 

You moaned loudly, and the sound was like music to his ears. Bakugo’s tongue darted out and laved over your cunt, prodding gently at your entrance before his fingers reached up to take its place. His index finger slid over your folds, gathering the wetness there before pressing into you slowly, earning another moan from you as his finger slipped into your tight heat. You groaned when he wiggled his finger inside of you teasingly, and he smirked against you. 

His free hand roamed up your thigh to clutch your ass, squeezing the muscles there and causing him to release a groan as he appreciated the firm curve of each cheek. 

“Love feeling these muscles flexing when I touch you. Keep doing that.” He growled against your skin, which made you shudder.

~Your POV~

“Don’t give me ord-” you tried to snap back at him, but your words were cut off abruptly when he pushed another finger inside of you, now thrusting lightly and scissoring them apart as he went. 

“Don’t try and start a fight you can’t finish, dumbass.” He snarked and smiled against you, squeezing your ass again as his tongue now focused fully on you, his mouth and hands working together perfectly to push you toward the edge until you felt a coil begin to tighten in your stomach. 

“Fuck, Katsuki. I’m close.” You breathed out, fingers grasping his hair in a grip that you were sure must hurt, but he didn’t complain. 

“Let go, babe. I want to feel your muscles flex and clench as you come undone around me.” 

His words pushed you over the edge and the coil snapped in your stomach, forcing you to release a loud moan that turned into a whine as you rode out your high, grinding your hips on his fingers and tongue. He continued to focus his attention on your cunt as your muscles flexed and clenched around him. The leg over his shoulder pulled him closer, bending at the knee with your calf flush against his back. He groaned against you before pulling back to look up at you. 

“Keep that up and I won’t want to come up from here.” His hand came up to the knee on his shoulder to clarify what he meant. 

You looked down at him and raised an eyebrow as you panted and attempted to get your body under your own control. “Who said I wanted you to come up from there?”

You sighed and released your hold on his hair, then pulled your leg slowly off of his shoulder, your knees a bit wobbly after the orgasm he’d just given you. You noticed his eyes fixated on your legs as you stepped around him to stand under the steaming water, giving yourself a chance to take a breather and process that your coworker had just eaten you out. You decided not to overthink it for a moment and turned back to face him. He stood and looked down at you with a smirk. 

 “So good you need a breather?” He teased.

“Cocky bastard.” You scoffed at him and playfully punched him in the stomach, accidentally hitting him a little harder than you intended and eliciting a grunt from him. 

He grabs the fist that hit him and yanks you closer. “Trying to get feisty now, huh?” 

You watch his gaze travel further up your arms, fingers tracing ever so lightly over your forearms before reaching up to grasp your biceps, squeezing them slightly and using his thumbs to draw small circles on the insides of your arms. 

You cock an eyebrow at him, surprised at the sweet action. “Going soft on me, are you?”

“Shut up and let me look at you.” He growled between clenched teeth, openly admiring the muscle in your arms and leaning down to nuzzle against your shoulders before biting down on your trap. You groaned and let your head fall back, further exposing your neck to him. He continued to cover your neck and shoulders in kisses and love bites as his hands travelled downward to grab at your ass, kneading the muscle there and groaning against your neck. 

“Your body is so perfect for me, baby. All the curves in all the right places. Do you have any idea what a fucking tease its been working out with you these past few weeks? Watching all that muscles work and flex. Hard to spot you when all I can focus on is how those muscles would feel beneath my fingers, or wrapped around me. This is all my favorite fantasies come true.” He released his grip on your ass, leaving a light slap before gripping you by the waist. “And I haven’t even gotten to explore all of them yet.”

You blushed, his praises making you unexpectedly bashful, but pushed through the embarrassment. “Look in the damn mirror, Katsuki. You think it hasn’t been just as torturous for me? Fuck. I didn’t just ask for your help because I needed workout advice. It’s definitely been a treat to watch you work.” Your ran your fingers lightly over his biceps. “And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like all the extra touching when you’re teaching me new exercises. Doesn’t quite compare to this, though.”

You used your grip on his biceps to push him back against the wall, so that the two of you were once again standing just outside the stream of steaming water. Your hands moved to graze over his chest and you kept your eyes locked on his with a sultry gaze as your fingertips brushed over his pecs, flicking lightly over his nipples and watching the grimace form on his face. His eyes burned into yours like fire, reminding you of his explosions. 

You let your fingers continue their journey south, teasing each of his abs and tracing over the delicious lines on his hips before reaching down to grab his thick cock firmly in one hand. You pumped it a few times and he growled low, a hand coming up to snake around your neck just tight enough for him to pull you into another searing kiss. Your hand twisted and continued to pump over his cock, thumb swiping over the tip to collect the precum gathered there. 

His mouth was blazing on yours, using his tongue and teeth in an aggressive fight for dominance. He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled lightly, releasing it when he pulled away entirely to look into your eyes. His grip tightened on your neck just a little bit, fingers squeezing on the sides, and your hand stuttered on his cock in surprise.

His dark garnet eyes bored into yours and you could swear that you saw sparks hidden there as he glanced over your face, probably looking for any signs of discomfort. “This okay?” His voice came out dark and gravelly.

You nodded slightly, letting out a quiet, “Mhmm,” as your hand resumed its movement, flicking your wrist as you pumped his cock. 

“Good.” He grumbled, the hand on your neck pushing you backwards a bit before lowering, forcing you to kneel on the tile beneath him, now face to face with the cock that you had spent hours of sweaty workouts fantasizing over. 

The hand wrapped around his length moved down to the base, making room for your mouth as you leaned down to wrap your lips around the tip, tongue darting out to stroke over the slit. You moaned at the taste of his pre on your tongue, the salty flavor egging you on as you took your time adjusting to the feeling of his cock in your mouth. It was difficult to get used to the thickness at first, but you were making headway and starting to push down further when suddenly, Bakugo’s hand tangled in your hair and forced your head further. Your throat contracted around him as you gagged and he moaned loudly, the sound bouncing off the tiled walls. 

When his hand relaxed, you pulled back, coughing and taking a moment to catch your breath, glaring up at him as you did. 

He smirked down at you. “What? is my fat cock too much for you to handle?”

You scoffed. “Hardly.” 

To prove your point, you let your tongue loll out and wrapped your lips around him once more, bobbing your head down low and using your hand to stroke what you couldn't take into your mouth. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you moved slowly, using your tongue to stroke against every prominent vein and flick over the tip when you came up. 

Bakugo watched you with clouded eyes, grunting and groaning at your attention. His fingers clenched and flexed, massaging your scalp and encouraging you to keep going. 

His hips began to move with you, fucking into your mouth, and you struggled to keep up with him, taking in as much as you could while using your tongue to stroke the underside of his cock. Tears streamed down your face and your throat began to burn with the struggle of keeping up with him, but you were definitely not going to complain. Not with his thighs flexing under the deathgrip your fingers had on them. Not when his moans were echoing throughout the locker room.

Suddenly, his grip tightened on your hair, and he pulled you off his cock with a wet pop, and continued pulling until you had to clamber to your feet, glaring into his eyes when you finally stood face to face with him.

“If my head is sore tomorrow because of you, I swear the first thing I’ll do when I wake up in the morning is punch you in the balls.” You growled at him, frustrated that he couldn’t just tell you to stand up, but turned on by the rough treatment nonetheless. 

“Mm, sure. You’ve been all bark and no bite lately.” He smirked at you, likely recalling your threat from earlier that you had failed to follow through on. 

Your eyes narrowed and you felt a sudden urge to follow through with your threat, your knee swinging up toward his crotch. He saw it coming though, and used his grip on your hair to spin you around and pull your back flush against his chest before you could do any damage.

His other hand came up to wrap around your throat, resuming its tight grip and making you a little bit dizzy. He pulled your head to the side with his grip on your hair and leaned down until his lips brushed against your ear as he snarled. “If you want to fight, we can fight, but I will win.” he blew lightly on your ear and ground his hips into yours, pressing his erection up between your asscheeks. “Can’t we just get along for now? I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” He trilled teasingly. 

You growled at him, but didn’t resist, let him hold you in place. 

“Good girl.” His grip on your throat and in your hair loosened, and he turned you around to face him, claiming your lips once more as his hands reached down to grip the backs of your thighs. Taking his cue, you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He held tight to your thighs as he turned and pressed your back against the wall and latched his teeth onto your neck. 

You relaxed back into the wall with a moan, but kept your thighs wrapped tightly around his waist, to keep from falling as you felt him align himself with your entrance. 

“Hold on, babe, I’m not gonna take this slow.” His mouth attached to yours once more, muffling your moans as he pushed inside of you. You gasped against his lips, feeling a slight burn in your muscles as the tip pushed into your entrance. True to his word, he didn’t start off slow, instead simply thrusting  his hips forward until he was fully sheathed inside of you. Your moans were lost in Bakugo’s lips as he kissed you, giving you a few seconds to adjust before he started thrusting in earnest, forcing you to wrap your arms tighter around his neck and clench your thighs tighter around him as he pounded you into the wall. 

The two of you got lost in each other’s mouths as you chased your own highs, your hips doing their best to meet his thrusts as he continued at a bruising pace, keeping the tight grip on your thighs that was sure to bruise. 

When he adjusted his position to thrust against a particular spot inside of you, you had to pull away from his mouth with a gasp, squeaking out a breathy, “Th- there!”

He chuckled and leaned his head into your neck, continuing to thrust into the spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten once again and knew that you were getting close. What you hadn’t expected, though, was that Bakugo would choose that moment to bite down hard on your trap. 

All at once, you felt your orgasm tear through you, a scream ripping from your lungs just before a hand came up to slap over your mouth. Your muscles spasmed as you came around his cock, struggling to suck air into your lungs as your walls fluttered around Bakugo’s cock. 

When his mouth released your shoulder, you heard him utter a gravelly, “Fuck,” before he was cumming too, cock twitching and releasing hot ropes of cum in your cunt as he moaned out your name. 

He stilled, holding onto you as the two of you panted, and you leaned your head down to rest on his shoulder. The two of you struggled to catch your breath as you came down, and eventually he released his grip on your thighs, strong hands moving up to your waist to lift you off of his cock and set you gingerly down on the ground. 

“Can you stand alright?” His gaze was surprisingly gentle now as you looked into his eyes and nodded hesitantly, stretching your legs out to get feeling back in your wobbling knees. He held onto your waist, not entirely confident in your answer, but you swatted him off. 

To prove your point, you took a few slow, tentative steps forward, standing beneath the water of the still-running shower to rinse the newly formed sweat from your skin. 

After giving you a moment to rinse yourself, Bakugo stepped under the water with you, slotting himself behind you and kissing the newly formed mark on your shoulder. The soft move shocked you, and you turned your head to cock an eyebrow at him. 

When your eyes met his, he scowled. “What’s that skeptical look for?”

“You goin’ soft on me?” You toned teasingly. 

He grunted. “No way, dumbass.” But he held you gently, running his fingers through your hair and taking some time to softly untangle the knots that he created before reaching down to pick up your body wash. 

Again, you eyed him skeptically. “What are you doing?” 

He popped the bottle open and poured some of the soap onto his hands before setting it back down on the ground. “We both need to get clean, don’t we?” 

You were sure that had had some snarky response on your tongue, but it left you all at once when his hands began to massage your shoulders, lathering soap over your arms and back. Your eyes dropped shut as you relaxed into his touch, sighing when he grabbed more to clean off your chest and stomach. 

“When we get back to my place, we’ll get you that bubble bath that you wanted.” 

This statement made your eyes snap open and you turned around to face him. “Who said I was going back to your place?”

“I did. Just now.” He smirked at you, daring you to challenge him. 

You wanted to pick a fight, you really did. But the idea of relaxing back against those firm pecs in a warm bubble bath while his strong hands massaged your body had you relenting. 

“Fine. But you’re making me breakfast.” 

His smirk widened and his eyes sparked with a challenge. You knew his next words would have you punching him in the shoulder. “Who said you could stay over? I only offered a bath.” 

You hoped the fist that connected with his shoulder left a bruise tomorrow.

[mccnyoongi]

buttercup ⇢ pt one

⇢ pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

⇢ genre: smut + slight angst

⇢ au: college!au, fwb!au, stoner!yoongi, assholeish!yoongi, fuckboyish!yoongi fwb to lovers trope

⇢ word count: 6k+

⇢ warnings: smut, honestly mostly porn, unprotected sex, recreational use of drugs & alcohol, dirty talk, praise, degradation, ridiculously excessive use of pet names, fingering, dom!Yoongi, unprotected sex, slight dumbification (whoops), hair pulling, creampie??, oral (f receiving), pussy slaping, reader has a thing for Yoongi’s hands because who doesn’t, reader and yoongi are both sarcastic and oblivious, this part is basically pwp.

⇢ synopsis: Min Yoongi wears leather jackets, fucks you like he hates you, spends most of his days on the wrong side of a blunt, and calls you the sweetest names when no one else is around. And you definitely aren’t falling in love with him.

⇢ author’s note: so yes, buttercup is being cut up into two parts thanks to a lot of my life getting uprooted this week!!! ill spare you the details but everything is really chaotic rn so im sorry this isnt exactly what i promised :( thank u for all the insane amont of love ive gotten so far. this is a pretty um... filthy piece of writing skfjsd and it’s definitely not perfect and id love to get better with everything i put out on here but i hope u guys enoy ily xx

If there was a magic lantern hidden somewhere on the campus of this university, you’d find it and your first wish would be to make it so that no one found out about this whole illicit affair you’ve been having with Min Yoongi. The secrecy was fun, sexy like you guys had a whole Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing going on. Or something. Your second wish would be to make his dick vibrate. 

But then he just had to go and go down on you in a bathroom during a party at the Beta Tau Rho house, not even a month into the fall semester, knowing you wouldn’t be able to be quiet or subtle at all. And he was so smug about it too, the fucker.

You can still feel the embarrassment buzzing under the surface of your cheeks from when you walked out that bathroom door and a dozen frat boys and mutual friends of yours and Yoongi’s were out there, waiting for the two of you to emerge and giving you a round of applause when you did. Yoongi had just laughed and rolled his eyes before leading you to the kitchen to get the pair of you some drinks. He’s always been particularly good at brushing that shit off of his shoulder. You aren’t, but you’re pretty good at pretending.

Maybe you should have ended it all that night. Of course, you didn’t. You figured, hey,  you’re young and in school so fuck making good decisions. Of course, the fact that no other guy has ever been able to dick you down nearly as well as Min Yoongi can is probably a huge contributing factor. 

Sure he might be grumpy, and sarcastic, and he tries way too hard to look cool and nonchalant, but he’s also the first guy to ever make you squirt. And you’re pretty sure that the way he waxes poetic about your pussy would make even Shakespeare swoon. So maybe the pros outweigh the cons, but only just.

“I can’t believe you’ve been getting Yoongi dick for almost three full months and haven’t divulged every single detail and vein to me, you cold, uncaring bitch-” Jimin’s voice is far too loud for the student-run coffee shop the two of you regulared every Sunday; a tradition that Jimin always insisted upon. He loves his traditions almost as much as he loves destroying any personal boundaries between the two of you.

“Keep going Park, see if I ever buy your coffee again.”

“Don’t change the subject,” You can’t say you’re surprised that Jimin is reacting like this. Self-proclaimed ‘disaster bisexual,’ Jimin was one of the very first friends you made back when you were a shy, barely functioning freshman. 

He actually introduced you to all his frat brothers, and a large number of the people you now call your friends. Including Yoongi, whose dick seems to be a reoccurring topic between you and… most people you know. Even if they weren’t at that dumb party, Jungkook made sure that every living being that stepped onto campus was aware of the newly found out fuckbuddies.

“We don’t keep anything from each other, Y/N,” He’s whining over his coffee now, full lips perched in that pretty pout that he regularly uses to his advantage. “I even told you about that time I puked on Namjoon’s dick in our second year!”

“Mmm, and I wish you hadn’t told me, Minnie-” The visual still haunts you, but Jimin has never had any predilections when it came to oversharing, especially not with people who have the misfortune of being his best friends. “‘Sides, I didn’t figure it was important, the whole Yoongi thing-”

“His dick, you mean.”

“Because it’s not like we’re getting married,” You carefully ignore him, a useful habit you’ve picked up three years into being his friend. “Just sex, remember?”

“So fucking what? You told me how you sucked Jeon’s cock in a movie theatre less than twelve hours after it happened-” You take a large gulp of your own iced coffee to busy yourself when the shameful memory is brought up. Not shameful because of the promiscuity of the act, no you’re an adult, thank you very much, but rather because of the boy you performed them on. Jeon Jungkook is now more of an annoying younger brother to you than anything. Not to mention he’s got a giant mouth that couldn’t keep a secret even if it killed him.

“Jesus you could’ve picked any other example-” You groan out as Jimin smirked, receiving the exact reaction from you he wanted. You think you’d have learned by now. “I’m sorry, okay? You big baby.”

“Hey, you’re on thin ice,” He points an accusatory finger at you and you have to fight the urge to smack it out of your face. “Now you have to make it up to me.”

You sigh- Jimin can really be exhausting when you’re only half a medium coffee in. “And how do you expect me to do that, Park.”

“Dick details, fucking obviously,” He says it like you’re a moron for even asking. And maybe you are. “Well details in general, I guess. You know, the basics; length, girth, does he make you call him daddy, is he good- I mean he must be un-fucking-real if you’ve been bouncing on it for three goddamn months, you whore.”

“I’m not giving you measurements, Jimin, I’ve yet to take a tape measure to it- and stop assuming everyone has a daddy kink just ‘cause you do.”

“Okay, vanilla bitch. You’re lucky I already know he’s got a monster cock from that time he streaked at that post-mid-term party next year.”

“Then why’d you even ask?”

“To see if you’d tell me the truth. It was a test and you failed.”

“I may be a college student but you’re gonna have to threaten me with a little more than a failing grade to spook me,” You roll your eyes playfully- there’s no real threat in his words, there never is.

“You’re right, I’m sure you’d much rather be punished by Yoongi, huh?”

                    ..............................................................................

Watching Yoongi roll a joint, his long, slender and experienced fingers moving quickly and deftly, has always had this near hypnotizing-like effect on you. His apartment smells like weed, the scent never surprising and would almost be overwhelming if you weren’t so used to it by now. The sight alone is almost enough to make you wet. But you’re stronger than that- except for when you’re not. 

Sexy hands aside, but unfortunately not on you, you’re thankful for his cannabis-related expertise because a) you can’t roll one yourself to save your life and b) despite normally reserving your consumption habits for parties, you feel like you deserve a fat one after the week you’ve had. What with, you know, the stress of having every student on campus knowing about yours and Yoongi’s torrid affair, thanks to fucking Jeon Jungkook. Brat. Plus incessant goading from both Jimin and your roommate, Irene- equally angry as Jimin about your worst kept secret- has only made you sink further into your insecure and paranoid thoughts.

The weed would help, you’d told yourself when your phone pinged with that much anticipated what’re u up 2? late night text from the raven-haired devil himself. Yep, it was the weed, the comforting blanket of getting high. And had nothing to do with the boy that was offering them. Not even his fat cock or magnetic pull he seemed to have on you. 

“Alright, dove,” He says from his spot on his worn-out single-dorm couch- the names don’t tend to surprise you the way they used to. You kinda figured that the affection-starved Yoongi had just you know… gotten comfortable with the girl he had been fucking for the last couple of months. No big deal. Sure they made your heart swell and your panties dampen, but then it could be looked at as a positive. 

He looks up at you from his spot on the couch, where he’s uncomfortably hunched over the table as he works and notices how you’re looking rather spaced out- not entirely rare for you. He’s used to the hundred-mile stare you tend to adopt when deep in thought, though it’s considerably less common for a sober you.

“Dove?” Nothing. “Y/N?” It’s the use of your actual name from his lips that finally grabs your attention.  You finally turn your head to look at him, the glaze of deep thought finally leaving your eyes. An eyebrow quirks to let him know you’ve heard him, but his gaze remains piercing and unwavering on yours. “You need to stop worrying so much, dove.”

“That’s what the weed is for, Yoongs.”

“The weed? You’re just here so I can smoke you out then, huh? No ulterior motives, hm?” His tone is as dry and sarcastic as ever, qualities he had quickly become known for around campus. He shurgs “Fine. Just here to sesh. C’mere then.”

You scoot closer to his side of the couch, not even thinking twice before listening to him. His tongue is tantalizing as he licks the rolling paper, even if he doesn’t mean it to be. He’s almost always tantalizing to you.

“Don’t be grumpy. You invited me over,” Your words are softer than you meant, but your proximity to him makes you feel stilted. He was right, you really needed a smoke, more on edge than ever.

“Well, technically,” He starts, unlit, perfectly rolled joint now perched between his lips. He grabs at your legs before continued so that you were resting sideways on the black couch, legs strewn over legs, thighs touching thighs. “I invited the best pussy on campus over.” You crinkle your nose at his bluntness.

“Yoongi-” You scold indignantly and pinch at a well-toned bicep. “Don’t be an asshole, you asshole.” He grins despite the insult like he’d expected it. Or he’s revelling in it.

“You know I’m just fucking around, angel,” His arm tucks around your waist comfortably, pulling you even closer. “Tryna chill you out. I can tell when you’re all strung out. I know how you,” He pokes you in the middle of the forehead, still grinning, as you pout from being called strung out. “Tick.” 

He really does, doesn't he? The thought is mildly terrifying, and you think that Yoongi might be too smart or his own good sometimes. When he’s not smoking himself into another dimension, that is.

He leans back into his seat, uncurling from around you to finally light up. A few sparks later and the room is fogging up with overly pungent smoke- the cheap smell makes you think that he probably bought it off of Hobi, too lazy to go any further off-campus than his own block of apartments to one of the nice but relatively affordable dispensaries. You crinkle your nose at the scent, grateful he’s too distracted to notice since he’d probably just tease you for liking the fancy shit more. At least you trust Hobi, and he lives only two buildings down from Yoongi. Truly an age of convenience.

A few passes, tokes, whatevers later, and you’re feeling substantially... floaty. You’ve completely relaxed, choosing to lie down rather than put the effort into sitting up, though your legs are still thrown across your equally high counterpart’s. What’s left of the roach is left to burn in one of many strategically placed ashtrays around the apartment, this one being on the living room table.

Yoongi has barely moved in the past while, head resting lazily on the back of the couch, black hair messy and his neck- which is somehow handsome to you- stretched out, and hands resting against your bare knees. You’ve barely paid him any mind, the silence nothing but comforting and easy. 

Which is why you can’t help but jolt just a little in surprise when those hands, the hypnotizing ones you’re so obsessed with suddenly start creeping up your legs, halfway up your thighs, carefully kneading the supple flesh he finds there. He chuckles at your reaction, finally picking his up his head to watch you through heavy-lidded eyes. “Bet you’re extra sensitive right now, huh petal?” He doesn’t have to bet because he knows it’s true, knows how needy you get when you’ve smoked. And he loves it- it’s why he never makes you pay for any of the times he smokes you out.

“Fuck off,” You whine at his light-hearted teasing, but Yoongi just giggles- he fucking giggles- in response, hands still travelling the expanse of your thighs. 

“Be nice,” His words are still jovial, but there’s a gruffness behind them that sends a shiver down your spine, despite the relative stuffiness of his living room.

“I am nice, you’re just a dick,” You pout- childish, but you can’t quite come up with anything more clever at the moment. The jab may be weaker than your usual quips, but Yoongi seems to have decided it’s enough to warrant a punishment of sorts, as he sends a quick slap onto your thigh. It’s certainly not the harshest hit you’ve received from him, it’s more playful than anything, but it’s enough to make you whine, not even noticing when your own hands jump down to grab at him and your now sore flesh.

His eyes take on a new sort of darkness, beyond the dilated pupils from the high he’s in the middle of as he grabs at your wrists, any assault you had planned halting in its tracks. His large hands that you’ve drooled over- figuratively and literally- many a time are big enough that he only needs one of them to hold both of yours steady. He uses his grip on you to yank you back up to a sitting position, where your noses almost touch and you can feel his breath fan across your lips.

“I told you, I know how you tick,” He lets his tongue swipe out to wet his lips, the act distracts you and makes you mimic it with your own tongue and lips. The smirk he gives you is all at once wicked and panty dampening. “Which means I know you like it when I’m mean. I know you like when I treat you like this, like my little slut,” The word makes you draw in a breath as your face reddens in humiliation and tension. “And- and I know you’re probably soaking through your panties right now, all over my couch. Making a fucking mess.”

It infuriates you to no end how right he is as your breaths come out shaky and uneven as you feel your pussy flutter around nothing beneath your shorts and panties. 

“Aren’t you?” His tone doesn’t leave room for playfulness anymore, and you’re nodding dumbly before you can give it a second thought. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t give you any time to bask in the praise before he’s leaning in to capture your lips in a searing and sloppy kiss. He’s domineering even in the way he kisses you, teeth biting and tongue sweeping into your own mouth as he revels in the small sounds that escape you. His hands leave your wrists, freeing them so you can grip onto raven locks with a newly freed hand as his own wrap around your waist. 

Every sense is filled with him, and it is all at once comforting and exhilarating.

He tugs and roughly manhandles you so that you’re properly astride his denim-covered thighs, your lips never untangling in the process. When your lips finally do come apart, it’s with a lewd sound and a gasp from your mouth. He’s still smirking.

“Gonna fuck you so good petal,” Yoongi has always been so blunt and unforgiving, whether in bed or out and it had been one of the things that first attracted you to him, besides his obvious good looks. 

Before the two of you had even gotten together, when you were friends who didn’t fuck on the regular, you had even mustered up the courage to touch yourself to the thought of him speaking to you like this- your own fingers circling your clit and delving into yourself without abandon. You had only been able to imagine up a fraction of his sexual prowess. 

Like the time only a few weeks ago you admitted to him in a foggy haze, high than you think you’d ever been. how you’d brought yourself to climax with images and soundbites of him flitting through your head. He’d immediately made you put on a show for him- recreating those nights, but this time with him sitting feet away from you and ignoring your pleas for him to touch you.

Right now, however, the only things keeping you grounded in reality is the feeling of the muscles in his thighs flexing beneath you, though nowhere near where you truly ache to be touched, and one of his hands brutishly tangled in your hair, pulling harshly so he can have easy access to your neck. Plush lips start soft, kissing and licking at the skin there, before his teeth join in, biting and sucking like he loves the taste of you (because he does).

“Y-yoongi-” You’re trying to keep the whimpers at bay, like maybe if you stop yourself from seeming so turned on so fast it’ll get him to fuck you faster. “C’mon, just fuck me already.”

“So demanding for such a needy bitch,” He has you squirming on his lap and you don’t know why you thought you had any power over him left. “Have you forgotten your place? Can’t think of anything else but getting fucked, huh?”

You nod in agreement, but find out he must want a verbal response when you’re met with a sharp spank to your ass that has you squealing and bucking into his lap. “Yeah, yeah Yoongi ‘m sorry, just need it.”

“I know, baby, I know, you can’t even help it when you get all messy like this, I know,” You can’t decide whether his words are sweet or patronizing when he coos at you like that, but either way he’s got you another pair of panties.

“Need you to fix it, Yoongs,” All pride is out the window when he’s got you like this, and you love pleading with him to give you what you want almost as much as likes making you beg.

“I will,” He gives you one more harsh bite to the junction of your neck and your shoulder that you know will blossom into a bruise just in time for your 10 AM class tomorrow and you hiss at the mingling of pain and pleasure. “Now fucking get up,” He pats lightly at your thigh twice at the order.

You’re in no position to disobey, and you know from experience that not listening to him will end up with a sore ass and no release in sight. You stand up on shaky, doe-like legs and he grins at the sight of you. He stands up with you, his lean form and strong stance making him look taller than he really is. Then his long fingers are pulling at what little clothing you have, stripping you of both your tank top and your shorts and your bra isn’t far behind. Soon you’re clad only in your panties while he’s still fully clothed in black form-fitting jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Thankfully he leaves his cliche, but devastatingly sexy leather jacket at the door.

He doesn’t make any move to undress at all and you hope to god he will eventually- you love seeing his honey-coloured skin covered in a thin layer of sweat as he fucks you into oblivion. But for now, he stays fully clothed and he roughly pulls you by your upper arm until he can bend you over the arm of the couch, panty-covered ass high and perfectly on display for him.

“God, you’re fucking dripping,” He taunts, fingers running over your pussy through the thin cotton, making you whine into the rough cushion your face is resting on. “All this from almost nothing, huh? You’re such a fucking slut for me, shit.” He sounds genuinely amazed by you and when you uncomfortably crane your neck back to get a good look at him you let out a proper moan. He must have stripped his shirt off when you weren’t facing him, because his chest is bare for you to gaze at, or you would gaze at it if you weren’t distracted by the hand that isn’t on you, which is lazily working over his cock, rock hard and aching through his jeans.

He smirks when he notices what’s grabbed your attention, knowing you’re only moments away from quite literally drooling on his pillows. “Is this what you want? Hm?”

“Ye-yeah your cock, Yoongi, need your cock,” Your face burns red and blood burns hot as the crude words leave your mouth.

“And you’ll fucking get it, dove,” The cute name contrasts the second harsh spank he lands on your ass and you moan at the delicious sting. 

You think that he must be about to tear your panties off and sink into you, but that would be too predictable and Yoongi loves to keep you on your toes. Instead, he disappears from your line of sight, a dull thump coming from the hardwood as he drops to his knees, feline gaze now level with your cunt. 

“Yoongi-” You’re whining again, and you even have to hold yourself back from stomping your foot childishly because, god, you just need him to do something.

And then he finally does- he licks a thick stripe, right from your clit to your entrance, still over your panties, and you gasp in surprise. He does it again, twice, three, four times until your hips are bucking and you’re whining because you need more, you need him to actually touch you and not be a giant fucking tease for once in his life.

“Be fucking patient,” He hisses out, but at least he’s finally rolling your underwear down your legs to toss them somewhere across the room. “Or I swear to god, I’ll hold you down just like this so you can’t even squirm while I get myself off all over your messy cunt,” His hand is running up and down your bare pussy as he speaks, spreading the wetness around, to your clit and your thighs and your ass and then back again. “And then I’ll send you home without touching you or cleaning you up, so you’ll have to take the subway home covered in my come and fucking trembling. So be fucking good.” At the last word, he lands a mean slap against your gushing cunt and you let out an embarrassing squeak.

“Shit-fuck- Yoongi, please, just-” You stutter through your words, needing to get them out, though you don’t know why. “I’ll be good, okay? ‘M your good girl, I am, promise, I’ll be good.”

He doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. But you have to assume he’s happy with your desperate response when he finally delves into your pussy like a man starved, tongue licking into you, the muscle sending spasms up and down your legs. You have to muffle your moans by biting into a pillow, not needing another altercation with his neighbours, but you want nothing more than to yell his name as loud as you can until your voice goes hoarse when he shakes his head from side to side, tongue still buried inside of you and one of his hands now roughly circling your clit. 

It’s too much, but it’s not nearly enough. It’s when he switches positions between his hand and mouth that you think you might explode; his mouth latches onto your clit, tongue circling and playing with it and two fingers fucking into you, preparing you for the impressive girth of his own cock.

Your teeth let go of the strong grip it has so you can warn him of your impending orgasm. “Yoongi- gonna come-” You manage to choke out between barely quieted moans.

You know that he wouldn’t be able to respond if he was still suckling on your clit, but you still whine and wiggle your hips as he pulls away, earning you yet another spank to your rear, where you can only assume a nice handprint is forming. “Yeah? Want you to come all over my face, like a good messy whore- gotta come for me before I can fuck you like you need.” 

When his mouth finds your swollen clit again, you can’t help it as your orgasm barrels through you almost violently, every muscle tensing and fingers grasping at whatever they can find, neighbour’s delicate sensibilities forgotten as you moan out Yoongi’s name. He licks you through it, fingers no longer pistoning into you. When the last of the tremors have faded he finally pulls away, using his clean hand to wipe your mess off of his chin, though it hardly cleans him. 

“Good fucking girl,” The roughness with which he was grinding his still covered bulge into your now sopping wet center would be impossible to ignore even if your head weren’t a million miles away. But for now, everything is Yoongi, every single scent is filled with him and you think that that might be making your head even fuzzier than the drugs coursing through your system, but you’re too far gone to be sure. Or to even care.

Because all you can think about is his mouth-watering hands kneading at the slightly pinkened skin of your ass, his mouth-watering cock rutting against you and his mouth-watering, well, mouth pressing wet kisses and occasional bites up and down your spine. “Yoongi,” You meant to speak with at least a little more conviction, but his name comes out as little more than a mumble.

“Hm,” He hums against your skin and even those slight vibrations reverberate straight to your heart, which starts beating faster at the thought of what’s to come. “What, is my babygirl still needy?” 

The use of the word my in front of the affectionate name makes your heart jump, but you don’t even have time to scold yourself for thinking with your post-orgasmic pussy before he continues talking with that sinful mouth of him. “Such a greedy, desperate girl, won’t be happy ‘til you’re stuffed full of my fat cock,” His words have you whining and grinding back against him, where you don’t have to look to know you’re leaving a stain on his favourite jeans.  If you’re unlucky- or lucky depending on your mood- he’ll make you clean it up with your tongue as further delicious torture. 

But smoking makes Yoongi needy too, no matter how much he teases you for the effect it has on you, and he can’t wait much longer, not with his cock so hard he was a razor blades’ edge from losing his mind. He needs to be inside you as much as you need him.

Which is why you don’t doubt him for a second when he’s murmuring things about how he’s ‘gonna fuck you so good, gonna fuck you stupid,’ and you can only respond with even quieter whispers of ‘I knows’ and ‘pleases’ as he strips himself oh the rest of his clothes, hissing from oversensitivity as his cock makes contact with the air. It’s wonderfully overwhelming and he’s not even fucking you yet.

You can’t even explain how grateful you are when Yoongi turns you around because you love just seeing his cock. You’ve never been one to describe guys’ dicks as pretty before- except that TA you managed to fuck before Jimin sunk his claws into him, Kim Seokjin, because, well, you’re not blind. But Yoongi’s dick is gorgeous. It’s not the biggest thing you’ve ever seen, and it doesn’t have to be, not when it’s girthy enough to make you salivate with a curve that points to the heavens. Gorgeous.

He’s pulling you on top of him so he can sit back down and you’re back to straddling him, and you don’t complain because you know he’s tired both from the pot and crouching on his haunches for access to your center not two minutes ago. Plus he loves when you ride him, breasts bouncing in his face, wetness making a mess out of his lap and full access of your entire body for both his hands and lips.

“Need you to bounce on my fat cock before I fucking explode, baby,” And you’d have to be some sort of a madwoman to deny him.

“Need it too, Yoongs,” You don’t know why you feel the need to remind how desperate you are for him, surely he can feel it, your swollen pussy resting only centimetres above his throbbing length. “Can’t think of anything else.”

“I know,” He’s rubbing the angry red tip against your sopping folds, tinges of overstimulation making you jolt. Or you would jolt if his hands weren’t heavy on your waist, keeping you steady so you couldn’t a) get away from his cock or b) properly sink down onto it. “So pathetic and perfect for me like this, all cock drunk and fucked out and I haven’t even fucked you yet, huh?”

You nod frantically, and you can’t even find the energy to be embarrassed when a hand comes up to pet your hair with a condescending ‘awe’ as he pouts at you. You bat his hand away with a whine and furrowed eyebrows, but all that gets you is his hand tangled in your hair, yanking sharply in retaliation. “Careful, slut, or you won’t be coming for the next week-”

“Please, Yoongi-” You don’t let him finish, knowing from experience to always take his threats seriously. “I’m sorry, I’m fucking sorry, okay just please-”

You cut yourself off with a high pitched, tea kettle-like squeak as he uses his hands on you as leverage to have you sink down onto his cock in one fell swoop. “Shit, god, you’re always so fucking tight around me, fuck me.”

I am, is what you wish you were coherent enough to snark back with, but you’re sure no one would blame you if they could feel what you feel right now. And what you’re feeling right now is how well Yoongi feels inside of you, like no cock you’ve ever had. Every ridge and vein on his cock fills you up to the fucking brim, no room left for a pinky or a thought that has to do with anything other than Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi.

And then he starts with those devilish moments of his hip, fucking into you shallowly and slowly to start and it’s all Yoongi’s dick. 

“Fucking bounce on it, dove. Fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you need it,” He speaks through gritted teeth, each word a struggle as he tries not to fuck into you without thought. And it’s with the satisfaction you get knowing he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him that you find the strength to do as he says.

With quivering thighs, you push up and off of his cock, the two of you sharing a harmonious groan at the feeling, foreheads pressed against each other, skin sweaty. And this all just in the calm before the storm. 

It’s not long before the both of you are moving frantically, mere seconds, really. It’s intense and all-encompassing, as you grind and roll your hips, cock deeper than you knew to be possible, and his bucking his own hips into you roughly, no doubt as deeply in some sort of euphoria as you are. His hands are everywhere and so are his lips. He sucks marks into your tits and gropes your ass, controlling your movements to the best of his abilities.

All of that, plus your clit grinding against his pelvic bone every other second and your head just might be in another universe. 

Yoongi’s words are swirling around in your head, though you’re not properly taking any of it in- his velvety voice goes on about how wet you are, how tight you are, how you’re a good girl and it’s all another instrument in your downfall. You’ve never been much for heights but being with Yoongi feels like something akin to what you assume bungee jumping is like, and you’re just about at that point where your cord runs out of length and your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach.

“Tell me you’re fucking close, baby, c’mon,” This is as close to pleading as you can ever get Yoongi but you’re still swimming in pride. He brings a hand off of your ass to cup your cheek, brushing away your now mussed hair and a single stray tear and you drink in the look in his eyes, dark red-rimmed and needing. “Gonna fill you up with my come, just like I know you like, my perfect little cumslut, fuck, just need you to come first, yeah? All over my fucking cock.”

And with a particularly hard grasp at your ass, bringing you to grind your clit against him again, you’re gone. It’s considerably less intense than the previous one, as many second orgasms are, but your head is still spinning and you think you might have drooled a little, but you don’t mind and you know Yoongi doesn’t. Your attempts to stifle your moans are unsuccessful as the name of the man attached to your favourite cock falls from your lips like a mantra.

And where your orgasm is, Yoongi is rarely far behind- he loves seeing you fall apart around him, because of him and you always clench so fucking hard around him in the peak of your pleasure how could he fucking not. He’s grunting, moaning, damn near growling as he spurts his own release as deep into you as he possibly can, coating every inch of your delectable pussy, vague mumbles of how he’s filling you up, just like you’re meant to be that you can just barely hear.

Shakey breaths hit each of your faces as you come down, now still and worn out. Your chests move up and down and you don’t know when you’ve buried your face into the crook of his neck, but the warmth and smell are more comforting than any hit you’ve ever taken off of one of his blunts.

“Shit, buttercup,” He chuckles, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and where you’ve tucked yourself He runs a hand through his sweaty black locks, the other hand locked around your waist. “I don’t know how we’re gonna move without making this couch fucking disgusting.” Mood killer.

“Don’t give a shit.”

“Yeah, but I do. Especially if Joon or Hobi someone finds it and makes a big fucking deal out of it, like no other guy in his twenties has some come stained furniture.”

You pull back from the spot you wish he’d just let you fall asleep in so he can see your pout. He can’t find the sight of you… adorable? Your hair matted, bruises, courtesy of yours truly littering your tits and chest, a thin sheen of sweat making your skin glow and bottom lip jutted out exactly enough to be overexaggerated and so fucking adorable. 

At that moment he’s glad that about three weeks ago the two of you had started to break the unspoken no sleeping over after sex rule because he just wants to clean you up and feel you curl yourself around him like you like to.

You don’t know what time it is, just that it’s late and that it doesn't matter, because this was certainly time well spent. You wonder how much sleep you’ve given up in lieu of Yoongi’s pretty dick. Of course, it does matter... because you have a 9 am class tomorrow morning that you can’t miss, but that’s for future you to worry about. For now, it’s time to try to get up without defiling this Ikea couch (you failed miserably and giggled about it while Yoongi groaned in mock pain), burn out just one more joint, steal some clothes for bed and some snacks from his fridge, and pass the fuck out on his bed, which you think is way better than yours, but that has nothing to do with the boy in it or his comforting warmth and smell.

                     ..............................................................................

Past you is a dumb bitch. Also maybe current you. Point being, you hate you, because you’re sore and stiff and ten minutes late to your dumb 9 am class and it’s all Yoongi’s fucking fault. You texted him this much, calling him a ‘little bitch boy’ for not even waking you up to make you a cup of coffee with his fancy instant coffee machine before you left. He hasn’t responded yet because holy fuck does that guy sleep like a rock. A really cute, cuddly, sex-god rock.

But, as usual, Jimin came in clutch, handing you off a coffee as your paths crossed on campus, each of you heading to your respective classes. He gave you a one-armed-too-tight hug and a comment on how you have that very glamourous ‘I got fucked by Min Fucking Yoongi last night and you didn’t so I’m better than you look.’ You tried to take it as a compliment as you thanked him for the coffee. He gave you a cute kiss to your forehead that reminded you you could never even be annoyed at him for too long.

And now you’re in class. Headache from not getting enough sleep getting worse by the second while you tried not to think about what judgements people must be passing on you, with your sunglasses inside and hickeys you didn’t have time to cover up.

When your phone pings you assume it’s Jimin, with something slutty or sarcastic or both. But it’s not. It’s Yoongi- well, it’s what you have Yoongi’s number saved under, aka the drooling emoji three times over… You’re surprised he’s awake, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have shit to do until the afternoon. 

You have a fleeting thought that it could be a dick pic- yeah it’s a little early for that kind of dumb fuckboy behaviour, and you’d previously thought that too, but Kim Taehyung proved you wrong last year. 

Yoongi isn’t a dick pic kind of guy anyway. No, he’s the guy that sends pictures of his hand around your throat that one night you let him take artsy photos of you two fucking on his film camera. The kind of guy that sends you audios of him jerking off and moaning your name that you listen to through your earphones in between classes because he knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. He’s the guy that drives you crazy because you can never quite predict what he’s gonna do next.

[9:23 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: you could have woken me you know dummy

[9:24 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: subways are gross in the morning

[9:25 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: i could have u know, driven u…

[9:26 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: cant really say no to u buttercup.

You don’t know why you’re heart’s beating so fast so you reprimand yourself for thinking with your pussy. Min motherfucking Yoongi is gonna be the death of you.

[tipsydipsydo]

Precious 🌸 [M]

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader 

Gender of the reader: female

Word Count: 4.8k

Genre: purest Fluff and so fluffy Smut it's literally Fluff!

AU: Etablished Relationship AU

Warnings: FLUFF (yeah, this here should be a real warning!) !Some Mature Content! Nipple Play, Body-Worshipping, Praising, Fingering, Soft (dirty) Talk, Mentions of Sextoys and Tears of Joy

This all here is just freaking tooth rotting fluff and it's really freaking cute!

A/N: Hello my Sweeties!

Here we go again, I got something for you! I wrote this fic also for a wonderful friend of mine for her birthday (yes, my friends are really spoiled by me!) and I got her permission to upload it. And to be honest, I'm really proud of myself that I could write such cute fluffy Smut with a great Story because usually I know myself as really kinky Shit (*cough* My Kink-Scenario *cough*) and I really hope you guys enjoy this story as much as my friend and I do!

Info: Link to the Masterlist can be found at the End of the Fanfic!

Summary: Today is your birthday and because your last few weeks have been terribly stressful, you want nothing more than to be able to sleep in on your day off. However, Namjoon has to go to practice all day long, that's why he has found a very gentle method of waking you up to unpack your presents with you together...

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

"Hey Baby ...", Namjoon whispers and gives you a little kiss on the temple before he kisses his way down to your collarbone. You sigh sleepily, only an incomprehensible mumbling leaves your lips. You don't want to get up yet, today is your birthday after all and you took some extra time off from work just for today to get some really good and long sleep. You know, Namjoon has to go to practice early in the morning again, but you told him last Night, before you two went to bed, to let you sleep in.

"What's up, Joonie ...", you mumble tormented, you wanting nothing more than your well-deserved sleep, which you almost gave yourself as a present for your own birthday.

"I told you to let me sleep ...", you complain and want to pull the blanket over your head again. However, Namjoon sits in the way and gently treats your neck with soft butterfly kisses. You are still too sleepy to resist these caresses and let your arms slide back onto the soft mattress.

"I know, I know, Babygirl. I should let you sleep in peace, but today is your birthday and I wouldn't see you all day otherwise, Darling. But I made something up for you in my mind, how I could wake you up in a soft and gentle way... I hope you're not mad at me anymore then."

Curious what this announcement could mean, you crook one of your eyes open to a small slit and look at him questioningly, but he just smiles softly and whispers: "Just close your eyes and let yourself be surprised... is your birthday today!"

When he starts to call you by your (secretly loved) petnames in such a loving way, it couldn't be that bad.

"Okay ...", you say quietly and finally give in, let yourself sink back into the pillows and close your eyes again.

Namjoon laughs briefly, looks at you with pure affection and love. Carefully, he pushes the blanket a bit away from your upper body, although he has just recently turned on the heating again, just as a precaution. The last thing he wants you to start freezing and shaking in what's coming next. Well ... you may like to begin trembling... but definitely not from a cool breeze!

Before proceeding with his actual plan, Namjoon looks at you again.

Your beautiful face, glad, he saw your furrowed eyebrows and knitted forehead way too often. Now everything is smooth and flawless again, without this one, always noticeable stress crease. Your eyes are closed, your breath is calm and even. Hopefully, that will not stay that way for much longer.

Carefully, Namjoon pushes a loose strap of your slightly too-large top off your shoulder and leans forward to caress the now exposed skin gently and calmly. He takes his time, a lot more time than usual. He hates himself for that all over again, as he has been able to allow so often in the recent times, not to pay your body the attention he deserves.

The last weeks, if not months, have been a nightmare. He loves his work, really! Nevertheless, the comeback drove him to the edge of despair. He spent most of his time either in the studio, in meetings, on the filming set for the new MV, or at least a few hours more than anyone else in the dance studio to perfect his Part in the choreography.

You took a new job that put the icing on the cake. Your working hours overlap with his few breaks, so you both have seen each other at the same time in your shared apartment only every two or three days. And mostly, you just gave each other the doorknob in the hand, because when one of you came home, the other Person headed directly to his work. Time was often only for a little peck and nothing more.

However, every now and then, as if by a miracle, when you both spent one or two hours together, most of the time you were like animals in heat and you just fucked each other senseless for some stress relief or just only to feel close to each other again.

Too much frustration and stress had accumulated in the time when you couldn't see each other. Sometimes you both felt more like two Singles instead of a Couple living together.

Some nights, when Namjoon came home late and you already slept, he wondered how much longer you could stand it.

How long you still want to join him, his turbulent life. When the time has come, when it becomes too unbearable, not only to have a long-distance relationship with your boyfriend when they are on Tour, but also to lead a kind of non-existent relationship. Your shared chat and perhaps the together signed rental contract still hinted at your relationship.

Namjoon has the feeling that he has to make it up again, just to get along with his own conscience. He has to show you how much he loves you, that he needs you not "just only" as a sexual stress reliever, because he loves you above all else and doesn't know how to withstand all this stress when you weren't by his side anymore.

You build him up again when he's close to a mental breakdown because too many people are demanding his attention all at the same time. You reassure him when he thinks he's a big disappointment for his members and when he thinks he's driving Hoseok insane when he can't learn the choreography so quickly like the other members. These times when he thinks he isn't enough for Armys. At least when he has the opinion he's not good enough for your patience and kindness.

That's why he wants to try to give something of this attention back to you.

A soft sigh leaves your lips as Namjoon moves lower with his kisses, pushing your top barely noticeable down, until the other strap slips off your shoulder too and finally exposes your breasts.

Namjoon raises his head slightly to look at your beautiful, perfectly imperfect breasts. Your left breast is a little bit larger than your right one. A detail that made you feel ashamed because you had to make some uncomfortable experiences with this unique feature. Your previous partners liked it to make a bad joke here and there about them, didn't even realize what they had done to you with such comments.

"Baby, I hope you know how beautiful you are, how beautiful your whole body is, with every little special detail. How beautiful your breasts are, their shape and how differently they react to my caresses, how perfect your left breast fits in my hands and how sensitive your right nipple is, all these details just makes it more interesting to play with your body..."

You giggle softly, full of embarrassment and hide your blushing face behind your hands. But Namjoon grabs your wrists and pulls them aside with gentle force.

"Hey, Babygirl, don't be ashamed, please don't be embarrassed of your body or what I'm saying, I'm absolutely serious, okay?"

He strokes your cheek before he gives you a long, sensual kiss. It's about time that you remember how much you are loved and Namjoon is eager to give you the attention you deserve. Otherwise, you only were so embarrassed at the beginning of your relationship with his compliments.

"I love you, and I want you to know that too, verbally and with touches as well. I want you to feel attractive and wanted, just like you are, with that damn hot body and your dirty mind, Darling. Just relax, I'll take care of you."

You nod lightly, throw a grateful smile full of love to your boyfriend that he cares so patiently for your insecurities and makes you feel so good again. With a smile, Namjoon kisses your lips one last time before returning his full attention to your chest and closing his lips around the nipple of your right breast.

A small moan escapes your lips and a heated shudder runs down your spine. Namjoon knows your body very well, knows where to touch you to elicit such reactions right away.

Joonie starts to grin, more than satisfied with these reactions he gets out of you. His left hand wanders to your other breast, begins to gently massaging it, rubbing his palm over your nipple, before he tease it with his thumb a little bit.

You bite your lower lip, try to hold back these sinful sounds in your throat, don't try to give Namjoon the satisfaction of having made you completely weak already. The tiredness that had previously been in your bones fades away more and more with every second.

Instead, heat spreads through your body, seizing every nerve cell of your body like a raging bushfire, especially the area between your thighs begin to burn with lustful heat. You might get used to being woken up like this some more often.

"You love it how I play with your nipples, don't you, Baby? I think you're already wet between those beautiful legs of yours...", mumbles Namjoon with his hot breath against your nipple, makes you shudder even more.

Like before he take his time for all parts of the body, so he did with your breasts. So long that you start getting impatient and a soft "Please ..." slip out of you. You want more, you need more, this heat in your abdomen is hardly bearable anymore.

"What do you want, Honey?"

"More, please give me more...", you whimper.

Your arousal has already soaked your panties completely, it sticks umcomfortable to you. All you want right now is to get rid of it and hope that Namjoon doesn't make you wait too long until he gives you some relief.

"As you wish, Birthday Girl"

He repositions himself next to you, now sitting on his calves at the level of your hip, carefully pushing the rest of the blanket off your body. When he sees this thin, white cotton panties with small blue dots, he finds it on the one hand unbelievably cute but on the other hand also really sexy.

You spread your legs a bit more to give Namjoon the hint that you really need him down there. Joonie can already see it, the fabric between your thighs has turned dark from arousal.

He lets his index finger stroke over the damp fabric, makes you flinch.

"Already so wet, baby ... just for me ...", he wispers more to himself, amazed how wonderful your body reacts to his touches.

"Don't tease me ...", you whimper and move restlessly back and forth. You need him, his fingers, his tongue, whatever he wants to give you between your legs. Without this damn panties.

Namjoon realizes how you grown impatient and helps you to get rid of this annoying piece of cloth. And now, you're lying there in front of him, showing him your bare and beautiful body, allowing him to see you so vulnerable and naked. Show him with so much devotion and love, you don't want anything more than your release from this hell of lust with his help.

"Baby, I know... I've said it countless times, but you're so beautiful, I love you, so freaking much, I'll give you what you need the most now."

Without hesitating unnecessarily, he let his right hand glides between your thighs, grabs your hand with his left hand, interlocks his fingers with your own. You begin to smile at this small but significant gesture, but close your eyes the next moment again and your lips parts to let out a moan.

Namjoon's fingers caress your wet folds, divide slowly with two fingers and rub your clit. Electric shocks shoot through your body, driving you crazy.

Between moaning and gasping for breath, you mumble some incomprehensible words, repeating your boyfriend's name over and over again like a luck bringing mantra. Like a salvation bringing mantra.

After coating his fingers with enough arousal, he let his fingers sinks lower, gently sliding the second finger into you after the first one and placing his thumb on your clit.

You push your back in the air, snapping gasped for breath, a soft, whimpered "Please" stumbles over your open lips. Begging for more, you roll your pelvis towards him, trying to ride his fingers, which so far remain still in you.

"Whatever you want, Princess...", gasps Namjoon, fucking turned on by this scenery in front of his eyes. But you are the only important priority now.

He guides your interwined hands to his lips and begins to place countless little kisses on your knuckles and the back of your Hand as his other fingers begin to move inside of you.

Namjoon gently starts to bend his fingers inside of you, knowing exactly where to find that sweet spot in you that makes you float into the sky.

"Oh God... Oh God... N-Namjoon...", you babble softly. Feel, how the heat within you becomes unbearable and that knot in your abdomen is not far from bursting.

"Yes Babygirl, I know you're close. I'm here baby. I'm here and gonna hold you when you're tumbles over the edge and begin to fall."

Your eyebrows are kitted together, your eyes are squeezed shut and your mouth is open, ready to let your silent moan ecape into the room.

Namjoon accelerates its rhythm, draws small circles over your clit, feels how your walls are tightening. Your legs starts to shake and your throat will flow over with small whimpers.

"I'm gonna... I-I'm gonna...", you wisper breathless.

"Come, Princess. Come for me, Babygirl. You're doing it so well, get your well deserved orgasm." Namjoon encourages you with his breathless voice.

Placing a last kiss on the back of your hand before the fireball bursts in you and you will be carried away in waves of lust for a few moments.

Seeing you reaching your High is a very personal gift for Namjoon.

You look so beautiful, so careless and peaceful. As you recover from your orgasm, Namjoon leans forward and presses a tender kiss on your lips.

"Happy Birthday, Babygirl~"

Namjoon comes back from the bathroom with a soft, wet towel to clean the little mess between your legs up (what he caused!). Then he goes to your dresser and gets you a new pair of panties from the drawer in that you store your underwear. This time it's pair of white panties with red dots on them.

You watch him the whole time with sleepy eyes and a smile full of affection. After such a wonderful orgasm, you could immediately go back to sleep, completely satisfied and there is still the will to sleep through the whole morning.

"Hey darling ... you have to stay awake for a bit longer, but then you can sleep through the rest of the day," says Namjoon softly and tries his best to keep you awake in a gentle way.

"How about a latte macchiato and your favorite croissants from "La petit réve de Florence" ? Before I woke you up I got breakfast for you. There was too much danger that I would break something in the kitchen... again.", he says quietly with a small self-ironic laugh.

Just the thought of a wonderful latte macchiato and these fluffy croissants from the french boulangerie of your trust elicits a sigh of pleasure out of you and actually makes you sit up in bed with a hearty yawn and lean against the headboard.

Namjoon takes your new position as an approval that a french breakfast is the best thing to start in the day of your birthday and disappears into the kitchen.

Namjoon comes back with a richly laid bed tray to eat comfortably in bed. He places it carefully over your lap on the mattress so that you can eat in peace. The latte has already cooled down a bit and is now at the perfect temperature to drink and the croissants smell wonderful. Namjoon also filled jam in tiny bowls, in which you dip the ends of your croissants.

"You can already start to eat, I have to get some more things", says your boyfriend, who is already walking through the door frame of your bedroom and disappeared again.

You look after him with your mouth full of croissant, but only shrug with your shoulders and dedicate your full attention now to the delicious breakfast in front of you.

Namjoon returns to the room with a second tray, tries to balance the wrapped presents and the various boxes as best he can to your side of the bed. When he has placed everything safely on the dressing chair next to your nightstand, he gives you his typical, irresistible smile again with his damn cute dimples in his cheeks.

"Happy Birthday, my Love!"

You almost choke when you realize how many gifts are there and your eyes are almost the size of a plate.

"Those... are they all for me?"

"Does anyone else in this household have birthday today? Of course they are for you, Jagi!", says Namjoon with a big smile.

"B-But at first, let me eat my croissants before I unwrap the presents! I don't want to spread crumbs all over the bed," you answer your overexited boyfriend.

Namjoon nods and tries his absolute best to stay calm, but he is too excited to gives his presents to you, so that he can hardly sit calmly next to you, always rocks nervously back and forth.

"Which gift do you want to unpack first?", he asks immediately when you wipe the last puff pastry crumbs from the corner of your mouth with a napkin.

A little bit overwhelmed, you let your gaze wander over the presents until you shrug your shoulders undecided.

"I have no idea, everything has such nice wrapping paper, so I don't want to tear it apart in general..."

Namjoon rolls his eyes playfully, he can't do anything with such a pointless answer. That's why he ultimately decides to give you the biggest gift of all of them.

A wide band of white silk is tied around the oval box, so that a perfect large bow sits on the lid of the box. You pull carefully the bow open and remove the lid from the stable and high-quality box.

You gasp when you see the pastel pink rabbit vibrator. You carefully take it out of the preformed indentation and look at it with fascination from all sides. It's not a big surprise that Namjoon gives you a sex toy as a present, you have given each other toys for the bedroom from time to time already before today.

However, this little exemplar is a completely different level, this here is no longer a "normal" sex toy, this is a real luxury item.

"The worldtour starts soon and we won't be able to see each other for months again and I thought... this one here could serve you well, when I unfortunately couldn't satisfy your needs by myself, even if I would like to do it for you when certain desires are no longer bearable... anyway, according to the reviews, it should have an excellent vibration, which should also be very powerful if you can trust these comments...", Namjoon explained his motives for this gift and winked at you with a cheeky grin.

You playfully hit Namjoon against the upper arm, who groans overdramatically "from the unbearable pain" and complacently observes how the pink blush rises on your cheeks. Especially when you consider that Namjoon spoiled you with his fingers just around twenty minutes ago and gave you a breathtaking orgasm.

As carefully as you unwrapped this gift, you gently put it back in his box and place it behind you on Namjoon's bedside. As soon as you have turned to the front again, Joonie has three other gifts ready. They reminds you of books in terms of their shape and size, what allows you to look forward in a certain anticipation. You're right with your guess and with every book that you unpack, your joy about these carefully selected gifts only increases more and more. All three books were written by your favorite authors, are the first edition and are bound in a beautiful hardcover.

In that moment you just want to hug your boyfriend and squeak full of joy, however, he stops you with a loving gesture, indicating the last book you unpacked.

"Baby, have a look...", he says and makes promising gestures on the book cover. You open the book curiously and put your hand over your mouth, can't believe what you'll find there.

The recently published book by your absolute favorite author is personally signed by her and the small text she wrote in the book is addressed to you!

You would love to have a book signed by her by hand... and now you have one that is also personalized just for you!

Dear Mrs. Y/N Kim

I am very pleased to hear that you read my books so diligently and sometimes even late into the night that your husband has to take my writings away from you and hide it so that you can still grab some sleep. I am deeply honored by this, but please make sure you have a healthy sleep rhythm! I only speak from own experiences...

I also wish you a wonderful birthday and all the best! Have fun with my new book!

Yours sincerely Y/F/A

(P.S .: I know you two are not married, but I think you're the perfect couple and I wish you the best for your hopefully shared future!)

"Oh my god, Namjoon... that's... that's... I have no words! She already calls me Mrs. Kim! Namjoon! How did you do it!?"

"Well,Y/N, there must be some advantages to being famous and everyone knows you... I called her publishing company and asked if anything like this could be arranged. The next day I was called back and suddenly I had her on the phone personally and we had a little small talk... she is really nice and I already had back then the feeling during the phone call that she lowkey ship us... ", explains Namjoon and laughs at the end a little bit and shakes his head amused.

Without realizing it, tears running down your cheeks and you throw yourself around your darling's neck. Now you're really start to sob.

"Thank you, Namjoon! Thank you, thank you, thank you for these wonderful birthday presents and this wonderful morning! I love you so much, I don't know how I can thank you for it! I-"

"Wait, wait baby! We're not done yet! The best alyways comes at the end, right?", he says and shush you gently.

"Wait, what? More? A-And even better?... Namjoon, you've gone completely crazy!", you sniff, giggling and trying to wipe the tears of joy out of your eyes.

He picks up the tray again and pulls out a plain, white envelope with your name on it in his handwriting.

With shaky fingers, you pull out a single ticket and scan with your eyes over the informations. It's a ticket from Seoul to your hometown, on a date where you already booked a ticket for yourself because your parents celebrated their silver wedding anniversary that specific weekend, but unfortunately Namjoon had to cancel because... wait-

"Namjoon, wha-"

He gently takes the ticket out of your hands, puts it on your nightstand and then looks straight into your eyes and takes your hands in his.

A smile full of love is on his lips and his eyes starts to shine in a dangerous way too, as if tears are forming in the corners of his eyes.

"Do you remember last week, when I came home all stressed and edgy and that for days? Partially I didn't want to tell you what's going on? That was because I had some arguments with Sejin and Si-hyuk, because I wanted to have three days off so that I could fly with you to your parents and accompany you to their silver wedding anniversary. After a few clarifying discussions I was finally able to arrange it and got their 'Okay'. So I got yesterday finally the chance to book my ticket. I'll come with you and we'll fly to your parents together!"

"Namjoon! You really went completely crazy! I'm the reason you've been having all this trouble?! You can't be serious!"

You almost shout at him and throw yourself at him, crying and sobbing. Nothing holds your tears anymore, they just run down your cheeks and you are so overwhelmed with all this joy and love you feel for him that you can't calm down right now.

Namjoon gently caresses your back, talks you into comfort, but also gives you the time you need to process all of this in your head and slowly come down.

"N-Namjoon! Please explain to me how I deserve all of...", you are making an extravagant gesture around you two where all the presents are scattered all over the bed "... this here?"

"You know, Y/N... I ask myself the same question every day when I wake up next to you and have the possibility to look into your beautiful face. What I deserved to have met you. A person who takes me the way I am, without wanting to change me. A person who supports me as I need it at this specific moment. A person who is patient with me when I'm impatient with myself and sometimes have unbearable phases. A person who loves me when I can't love myself in dark days. And all these things you've done for me, even when I don't have the time for you that I would like to have. I just wanted to return the favor."

You open your trembling lips, try to respond to his wonderful words, but no sound comes out of your throat. You simply cannot find any words for this literally breathtaking declaration of love.

Namjoon smiles at you softly and yet a bit nervously, almost looks like a shy schoolboy who confess his love to his crush. Then he takes the floor again.

"But please believe me, Y/N, I don't want to buy your love with these gifts here and also all these small souvenirs from these different countries and even when I just want to give you a little gift, I only want you to know that I always think of you. And somehow want to show myself recognizable, even if I have a lack of goddamn time for it. This time that I would like to spend with you. Therefore I would like to thank you again and again, that you give me the chance to realize my dream job and at the same time I am lucky enough to be able to complete this dream with you. Thank you. I love you so much and maybe you can understand now how much I love and appreciate you."

Namjoon's voice begins to tremble towards the end and when you look up at him you see tears running down from the corner of his eyes. Your heart feels as if it can no longer withstand this love in your chest and wants to burst into thousand pieces.

"I love you too, Namjoon. So, so much! And now, right now, I know exactly how much you love me, that sometimes it just steals my voice...", you sob.

You lie in the arms of each other a few more moments, enjoy being allowed to be so close to the other person, at least for a tiny moment. Until Namjoon's timer rings, which should remind him that he should go for practice now. A frustrated sigh escapes Namjoon.

"Hey Baby, it's time to continue working on your dream and make it come true... right? And I want to go back to sleep anyway until my girls storms our apartment to celebrate my birthday too. Come on, hop hop, out of the bed! Hobi doesn't like to wait! ",you giggle and shoo him out of bed.

At the door, Namjoon turns around to you the last time.

"I love you, my Queen."

"I love you too, my King."

You start to laugh together before the front door closes and you sink back into the pillows with a slight smile in your lips.

[Links]

My Imagines!

My Masterlist!

[bbelphie]

astra, i feel like we don’t know you at all!! say, can you tell us who is your most favorite character in obey me, and who is the least? love you ❤️❤️❤️❤️

ok so THIS was difficult snxjms and as you asked afterwards, i also added why i feel this way way about them! love u 💖 sorry this turned out long tho

my list:

BELPHEGOR — i mean, it’s kinda obvious, right? (cough bbelphie is the name of the blog) ever since the start of the game, i wandered about who the fuck that resting bitch face boy was. like, honestly curious. when we met him at the attic, the first thing i thought about belphie was how manipulative he was, and although i’d have hated him, his situation and the game’s universe in general made me reconsider my choice. i found out that he was so much more complex than what i first thought of him. and i LOVE characters like that. belphegor had his reasons, his own past and way of seeing things and i just wanted to know him better, not just because i was curious, but because i’ve grown to like him, in a way. it wasn’t instantaneous, but i kinda saw that coming, you know? i’m not sure if i can explain well how i feel about him (i can’t express my feelings well in any way cof) but belphegor was the character that i was most eager to know about. (ouch i have so many other things to say about him) also he’s a sassy little shit and i love him for that.

MAMMON — the fact mammon was with us since the beginning is a big part of this place (but not the only one). and yeaaah, i know he was a little bitch about looking after mc and i was also blinded by my prejudice against personality based characters like him (narcissist, arrogant, show off) but then we get to know him better. mammon has so much more sides of his personality than that. (besides being a tsun tsun) so by that scene when we were competing against levi and lucifer saved us because mammon couldn’t make it in time, mammon was like “next time I will be the one saving you!!” i was already “YES YOU IDIOT I LOVE YOU TOO” and it was just downhill from there.

SATAN — honestly? he’s my type. the intellectual one, cat lover, fan of mystery and detective books and all that shit made me fall for him, hard. and then i saw his backstory and i fell for him EVEN HARDER. he has sooo much i want to know about! behind the facade he wears constantly in front of everyone there was so much more than the sin he’s avatar of. his arc was one of the lessons i loved the most, without doubt. though i wished the devs had gone deeper into his character, like uhhh i don’t know how to elaborate on this, but i feel we scratched only the surface of who satan really is. (besides that, satan def would be a beast in bed and my hcs about that does’t end)

LEVIATHAN — ahh it was too difficult to choose between him and beel. but i relate to levi quite a lot — animes, self depreciation, manga and all that stuff. he striked me as someone i wouldn’t like so much at the beginning but i’ve grown to love him. that was because of... well, i know envy is the deadly sin he’s avatar of, but man it’s annoying sometimes dnbfxk however! i love him either way. i just think that he should appreciate more things in life instead instead of putting himself down but who i am to talk? i used to be like that and i still am, just not as much. that must be most of the reasons of why i want to be by his side and reassure him that not everything in life is unfair, but can also be a way to make ourselves stronger. taking that emotional shit aside, i love his fanboy side!! i rant a lot about the things i like, especially animes and mangas, and seeing him so enthusiastic about things like that makes me feel like with him, i would act like myself the most.

BEELZEBUB — i love himbo!!! the giant, strong one that looks like he could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll? yes, sign me the fuck in. he’s the sOFTEST i swear to god almost all the scenes that made my heart explode with love was with him. when he asked to hold your hand while sleeping because he’s afraid of having any more nightmares about lilith and belphie and their fall from the celestial realm made my heart go BOOM. i would do ANYTHING for this boy 😭😭 beel was first i warmed up to in the game! i was gonna put him in the fourth place with levi but it would be too long.

LUCIFER — hhh this guys right here. ngl i was intimidated as fuck at first. but then i saw how he was family driven, always putting their safety and well being first and overall just being a loving brother, tho very discretely. and bruh characters like that are my DEATH??? he is so soft for the ones he loves and would do anything in his power to make them be safe and sound, even if it takes some sacrifices. i was touched by his past, how he had to hide so much from his brothers because he felt he should carry his burden alone. i especially love when lucifer tears off that prideful and powerful facade and shows that he’s capable of loving and being vulnerable and just idk man it just hits home im gonna cry

ASMODEUS — baby boy. lusty boy. ntt solmare did him dirty. he deserves SO MUCH MORE!! asmo has so much potential to be a favorite if only they had developed him better. that arc of his when we make a pact with him was lacking, in my opinion. the devs could have gone deeper into his character, showing that his not just a personification of lust, only its avatar. i’m sure there are different sides to his personality, you know? we’ve been seeing hints throughout the story and devilgrams (most of the time they’re very subtle!!) that asmo needs or/and constantly wants to feel loved, wanted, desired and/or admired. that could be a trauma or something of the sort that was created after his fall from the celestial realm. however this theory of mine is not full developed yet so i can’t really tell you guys about it in more detail. i still love him nevertheless!!

others characters:

SOLOMON — he is shady. and powerful. i love that. besides that, i think i may have a thing for white haired characters. but really, i love this guy, don’t know how but i do. there’s a lot i wanna know about him, and i feel he’s hiding or planning something big. and maybe evil. but ngl his interactions with asmo are the best!!

SIMEON — ara ara baby. i’m 100% in love with him. simeon is someone really good to have as a favorite honestly. even if he doesn’t get much screentime, anyone would realize that ever since the beginning he’s a very truthful person, with calming and chill vibes. i don’t know how to explain it well but with all the shit the brothers make mc go through, it wouldn’t be a surprise if you find yourself overwhelmed, and simeon is exactly the kind of person that makes you feel heard and seen; his atmosphere has this effect of making people feel at ease.... cough cough anyways a little bit nsfw but to me he’s either really kinky (without noticing or even knowing anything about kinks) or super innocent. that’s pretty much why i’ve seen this 50/50 aspect appearing constantly with his stans. p.s: not to be lewd but i wanna hold his hand 😳

LUKE — he’s my baby brother. i adopted him.

DIAVOLO — there’s so much of this guy we haven’t seen yet!! i know he’s like a cool dad and all but bruh, he’s the next demon king!! he must be a excelent strategist and is more powerful and intelligent than he lets on. i saw so many theories about diavolo, but my favorite so far is the one where diavolo kinda caused the celestial war indirectly. he’s another character that i feel we’ve only scratched the surface.

BARBATOS — everything about him screams “SUSPICIOUS”, he just hides it better than solomon. ngl i was rly curious about him and his powers and then i discovered he has control over TIME?? that’s too overpower!! but damn, i do love characters with time control powers...(victor from mlqc im looking at you) sometimes he looks like a dead fish. sometimes he looks hot. i don’t know bruh i’m half scared and half aroused by this guy.

that’s pretty much it i think? lmao there’s so much more i wanna say about them but this is all that comes to my mind right now!

[smolslothloaf]

Yo as the only Micheal Crew fan (prolly), can I just say I’m so fucking salty that he died how he did?

Homeboy’s been hinted at since the fourth episode in this entire goddamn series, he’s been repeatedly connected to the Leitner books (which I guess are less important now that we’ve met Jurgen Leitner and we’ve got Gerard but uggggghhhh), he’s got a cool lightning scar and backstory and everything!

And once we get to meet him? He’s so intriguing-he ‘s polite even as he forces Jon to just fall through the air, he has a great voice (both literally and writing wise), and once he explains his backstory it doesn’t dissapoint. You get the image of this scared child whose been searching for protection and meaning his whole life. This creature’s been following him ever since he’s gotten his lightning scar, you kinda get that it’s the personification of his past even if he connects it all back to the Vast. To an extent, he kinda describes his relationship with his scar and his journey in self discovery all as both finding meaning and acceptance in the Vast. The moment he figures out what’s been calling to him is also the moment he accepts his past and his trauma. It all makes sense and comes together.

What I also find particularly interesting the way he laments about never being able to remember the most important events of his life, as I feel it’s something we all can relate to. Traumatic or not, negative or positive, many of us have trouble recalling the most life-changing events of our lives. We feel frustrated over this, we beat ourselves up for it, it’s just apart of life. In Mike’s statement this is such a small detail but it’s one that resonates with me deeply.

They set up Micheal Crew in such an engaging light and make him feel so real. I will admit that I’m not sure how much more they could do with him as this episode tied up pretty much all loose ends in his story. That being said, I would’ve absolutely LOVED to see more of him! He has an intruging personality, a cool backstory, he could’ve been a neat reaccuring character or something.

But no! Daisy Fucking Tonner just needsa bust down the fucking door and be like “YO THIS BITCH HUMAN?” And Jon’s like “uhhh ig not” and Daisy’s like “WELL THAT MEANS HES GONNA CATCH THESE HANDS.” AND JUST FUCKING SHOOTS HIM???

FUCK THAT NOISE.

YOU BUILD UP A CHARACTER OVER THE COURSE OF THREE SEASONS, WE MEET HIM AND HE GIVES US HIS LIFE STORY, THERES STILL SOME ROOM FOR HIM TO GIVE US ANSWERS OR SOME SHIT, THEN YOU HAVE THE A U D A C I T Y TO JUST YEET DAISY IN AND HAVE HER SHOOT HIM OUTSIDE?

O K A Y

LIKE,,, IG THEY NEEDED TO SET UP DAISY’S STORY AND GET MICHEAL OUT OF THE STORY OR SOME SHIT BUT. NOT LIKE THIS PLEASE?? IM FULLY WILLING TO ACCEPT THAT IM JUST UNREASONABLY SALTY ABOUT THIS BUT SERIOUSLY?? SHE JUST. SHOWS UP. SHOOTS HIM. THREATENS JON. BITCHES FOR AWHILE AND WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE OKAY WITH IT?

MICHEALS NOT EVEN BROUGHT UP AFTER THAT HE KINDA JUST GOT SHOVED TO THE SIDE FOR IMPORTANT PEOPLE PLOT(tm). HE GETS. PUSHED. TO. THE. SIDE. IN. HIS OWN. FUCKING, EPISODE. WASNT JON GONNA QUESTION HIM MORE? WASNT THAT WHY JON WAS THERE? I MEAN I GUESS HE COULDNT CUZ MICHEAL COULDDA DEFO KILLED HIM, BUT HE DIDNT EVEN DROP ANY BREAD CRUMBS FOR JON’S INVESTIGATION. JON LITERALLY GOT JACK SHIT FROM THAT INTERACTION ASIDES FOR MORE FUEL FOR HIS STATEMENT KINK. AS FAR AS THE PLOT’S CONCERNED, JON DIDN’T NEED THE CONTENTS OF MIKE’S STATMENT. THE KNOWELDGE WAS GOOD BUT HE GOT NO FURTHER ON HIS INVESTIGATION OF THE STRANGER. HE WAS DIRECTED TO MIKES DOOR FOR THE PLOT BUT THE PLOT AINT THERE, THE PLOTS AT DAISYS HOUSE

TO REVIEW:

THEY

DEADASS

JUST

THREW MICHEAL CREW IN THERE

HAD HIM EXPLAIN HIS BACKSTORY

THEN KILLED HIM OFF

AFTER HYPING HIM UP

FOR

THREE

FUCKING

SEASONS

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???

ARE YOU ACTUALLY FUCKING KIDDING ME???

YA KNOW THATS PROLLY THE ONE BIG BONE IVE GOTTA PICK WITH THIS SHOW. THEY BUILD UP INTERESTING CHARACTERS OVER THE COURSE OF FULL SEASONS, THEN THEY’RE ONLY GIVEN THEIR TIME TO SHINE FOR ONE EPISODE BEFORE BEING ADRUPTLY KILLED OFF AND NEVER MENTIONED AGAIN. I HEARD IT GETS BETTER BUT ITS A PRETTY BIG PROBLEM FOR THE FIRST TWO SEASONS.

JANE PRENTISS COULDDA BEEN COOL! AND SHE WAS COOL! BUT SHE ONLY ACTUALLY DID SHIT FOR ONE EPISODE THEN WAS KILLED WITH LITTLE RESISTANCE. SHE DIDNT EVEN MAKE A COMEBACK OR ANYTHING, THEY REALLY JUST WENT “THAT BITCH DEAD AND DID JACK SHIT” AFTER HYPING HER UP THE WHOLE SEASON. LIKD OKAY SURE GO OFF. THEYRE BUILDING UP BREEKON AND HOPE A BIT MORE NOW, CANT WAIT FOR THEM TO BE KILLED OFF AS SOON AS WE MEET THEM.

LIKE I GET IT I GET IT. MICHEALS STORY WAS COMPLETE. NOT EVERY CHARACTER NEEDS TO BE PLOT RELEVANT. NOT EVERY CHARACTER THATS BUILT UP NEEDS AN ELABORATE PLOT. NOT EVERY CHARACTER NEEDS A SATISFYING SEND OFF.

BUT IM STILL FUCKING MAD ABOUT IT CUZ I FEEL NOTHING. I LOVED HIS STATEMENT AND IT WOULD’VE JUST BEEN FINE IF MICHEAL WAS JUST LEFT ALONE AFTER THAT OR SOMETHING. OR HELL HE EVEN COULD’VE BEEN KILLED IN A DIFFERENT WAY I JUST HATE HOW DAISY CAME IN THERE OUT OF BUTTFUCK NO WHERE, SHOT A GUY SHE BARELY KNEW CUZ “he spoopy” AND ITS JUST NEVER BROUGHT UP. MIKE DIDNT EVEN NEED TO BE THERE. JON WENT THERE FOR ANSWERS, MIKE GAVE HIM NOTHING CUZ INSTEAD OF HAVING AN INTERESTING LITTLE CONVERSATION, DAISY NEEDED HER CHARACTER ARC. IM REPEATING MYSELF AT THIS POINT BUT IM JUST SO FUCKING ANGY ABOUT THIS.

FUCK DAISY, ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS

I am fully aware that I’ll wake up tomorrow and deem all of this as invalid and unreadable, I just needed to get this all off my chest. In all honesty the main reason I’m upset is because the Vast is my personal favorite entity and Micheal’s statement is a good summation of why

People affected by the Vast are just that-people. Well, all statement givers are people, but the Vast’s statments I find are much more grounded and down to Earth. They aren’t as out there or over the top like the Corruption or the Stranger. They’re just little ‘tweaks’ in someone’s perspective that shakes their core. It takes mundane occurances and pushes them to their extreme. All the Vast did in “High Pressure” was make someone feel as though they were sinking forever and forced them underwater. It’s some you could probably picture happening to yourself more clearly then say, being attacked by War Ghosts. (NOT bashing on War Ghosts btw, they’re just a different brand of spooky.) The type of fear that the Vast victims have is also kinda different to me. I’m not sure how well I can explain it but best I can describe it is that it feels like geunine trauma that someone with that phobia would experience? I still don’t think that’s quite right but take “A Long Way Down” for instance, where the statement giver’s brother suffers from Acrophobia. That’s a real boy with Acrophobia! I feel who he is as an actual person as I follow his life, I know his worst nightmare, and once you see what happens to him, you completely feel both from him and his brother. Or in “Freefall” where you see a mother mourn for her son’s trauma and death. She saw something he loved suddenly turn him so, so afraid then saw the very thing he feared swallow him up.

It’s just any average person greiving their loved one’s trauma or being pushed to a limit you can see yourself being pushed to. It’s all very grounded in reality and makes it all feel that more real. And I feel like Micheal Crew’s statement just summed that up so well. He’s such a perfect face for what I love about the Vast. He’s just a person at his core, who was scared and needed guidance.

It’s just that the way it ended and how adruptly he was killed left a sour taste in my mouth.

[rubbrfrk9]

REBORN

I HAD A NAME. I used to be somebody.

I had a profession, dignity, a position in the class structure.

Nowadays, I see through a cracked lens - society is broken, and the people participating in it are all prisoners.  The people you see shuffling in the great to and from, every morning, every evening - they’re miserable.  Ask any one of them if they wouldn’t leave their life, and - perhaps after some hesitation - they would say Yes.  

Even the ones who have kids - the ones in love - all of them.  In fact, those with ties to other people are the first ones to get in line.

For me, it was curiosity that opened the door.  If one follows the classic Hero’s Journey, the arc that every myth and story takes, I heard the Call - just like you - through a buzzing, pixelated source… the great and sordid world of the internet.  

One wrong step can put you on an entirely different path.  

When you look back, the path you were on is obscured by the surrounding environs - pressed firmly closed, as though no thing had ever once passed through.

I should introduce myself before I preach anymore.  I am rubbrfrk9.  You’ve read the stories on the website, you might’ve seen my name watermarked on pics as you scroll by on your tumblr feed.  

That hasn’t been our name always.  But what our name was before does not matter.

All hail the Rubbered One!

And if you’re reading this, then you’re as curious as I was.  

Do you dare follow your own Call?

If you do, keep reading.

THE CALL COMES FOR YOU. You don’t come for it.  The Call has been there, waiting, for you to pick up the other end, for as long as you’ve been alive.

Like I was saying, for me, it was curiosity.  It seems like it is for you, too.

I was always a curious guy.  It’s how I became a teacher, I guess.  I loved to learn about shit.  Endless amounts of shit.  The subjects that interested me were sucked dry by my voracious need to know.  On top of it all, I was cursed (blessed?) by a need to collect, a completionist’s frenzy, and so I found myself needing not just to know, but to know it all.

Everything.  A question could not go unanswered.  I was a very vocal kid, always asking the dread “Why?” to anyone who had the faculty to answer.  Of course, I learned quickly that faculty does not imply ability; and later still, that ability does not imply honesty.  Soon enough, I started shutting up and consulting other avenues of information - books.  I loved books.  I read anything I could find, from my mother’s tawdry romances on the back of the toilet to magazines at the doctor’s office - but my preferred genre was Horror, without a doubt.

I loved to read stories of unfortunate people, blind to their predicament, be lulled to the predator in the story.  I loved how the protagonists were slowly overcome by a sense of dawning knowledge, and were thus able to conquer - or not - the abiding horror.  The best ones were when the hero failed, in my opinion - those dark, twisted passages of despair and helplessness …

I was a weird kid.  

I didn’t have very much luck making friends.  I didn’t really understand what a “friend” should be.  I knew that it was some sort of social construct, but I hadn’t figured out how it worked yet.  Taking the time to do that analysis set me back, quite substantially, in the invisible school of society.  Maybe, at heart, I was always a bit of a freak, even before I came out.  

Funny to think of that, now, sitting here, writing from behind my gas mask and full rubber suit.  

All hail the Rubbered One!

I love how tightly it encases me.  How tightly it erases me.  

Slowly, now.  Don’t give up too quick.  Finish the story first.

As I was saying.  Curiosity.  After college, I became a teacher.  A professor.  Very highly regarded in my field, but poor with social interactions.  Dates?  Of a professional courtesy, only, and as awkward and dry as a lecture.  Actually, for me, lecturing was my second home, aside from my tidy and obsessively-ordered apartment.  I loved standing at the podium, talking about the books we read together.  How they are structured, and how events, following a certain chain, can be transformative.  

Although sometimes, horrific.

Life that is contained entirely within the snowglobe of acadæmia becomes brittle, after a time.  Even the most relentlessly anti-social of us have a heartbeat, a pulse, and a sexual drive.

Most sexual drives will tend towards the obligatory, the procreational.  Attractiveness, physicality, congruence, intercourse, and then the subsequent emotional tangle.  Sex is more than just a body meeting a body a-comin’ thru the rye - it is a rendezvous of energy, some of which we can’t even begin to understand.

Some kind of cosmic interplay happens during sex.  

Something so bright, so chimeric, that I was blinded just thinking about it.

I fled from it, like a medieval monk from a vision of God.

SPARE TIME. I spent most of my time in my apartment in my bedroom, perched with my skinny knees up, my face obliterated by the powder-white light of my phone.  I’d scroll endlessly.  And always pictures of men.

I’d known I was gay way before most people do, but I’d never bothered to “come out” or anything that obvious.  I just kept my feelings to myself, for as long as I could - which may not have been the healthiest thing to do, in hindsight, and when they finally vibrated at the seal on the pressure gauge, I spewed it out all over the internet.

Tumblr was my outlet.  You could find something for every kink, from men transforming into donkeys to using politics as a sexual tool.  I considered myself omnisexual.  I could be convinced, really, to like anything.  Except a few things.

I never really got into the big “full fetish” scene.  I’d, of course, seen the pictures go by - of Folsom, Folsom Europe, even some kinksters trying to make a name for themselves, become influencers, with pictures so heavily edited and filtered they almost looked fake.

But for me, my kink was - get this - intimacy.  I loved pictures of men, beautiful men, kissing, embracing.  Tangling together, with bliss inscribed on their faces.  And it was that expression that did it for me - the bliss, the complete and total walling-off of any worldly concern but the physical, the presence of another’s lips, breath, proximity -

It got me off, every time.  Imagining myself in those positions.  Wearing those clothes.  Caught up in those bedsheets.

Then, I’d stare into the mirror, and flex my coming-along biceps.  My quads.  I’d get dressed for the gym, and I’d go work out for an hour.  

I loved my routine, even if I felt the dreary recalcitrance to wake up every morning and head to work, just another body with the other bodies, shuffling to and from.  The night time is when I felt the surge of life - I would be free of the grimy shackles of the city, I would pound through the tumblr feed, I would shower, I would go workout.  

Life was half-bliss.

But as anyone who has half of bliss will tell you, it is never enough.  You must go searching for the second half of bliss - and I found mine on the night in question.

Knees up, one foot tapping a heel in idle, anxious rhythm.  Eyes greedily consuming, picture after picture, and then -

My thumb hovered over the screen as if about to lay a fingerprint down on a reader.  I stared.

The picture, my gateway, was a bedroom picture much like any other I saw in my daily feed, except for one crucial ingredient - one of the men was entirely encased, from head to toe, in shiny black rubber.

The rubber was so shiny, so depthless, so reflective, that it almost seemed as though its host was Not - as though there were some kind of blotting-out, erasing, blankening … And yet, this Not Person was being encircled by the arms of another man, a strong man, by the looks of it, his biceps bulging around the Rubbered One.

Even now, looking back on it, I find it insanely difficult to pry my eyes away from the memory of that reflective rubber.  That shiny, reflective black rubber.  And the detail!  I could see the hollows of the eyes, the imprint of the big toenail, the curls of the ears down to the tragus - it was truly as though this was not a suit being worn, this was a suit that was animated, had breath and energy of its own.  

Perhaps it was, in hindsight, seducing the man which embraced it.

I don’t know how long I stared at the picture.  A long time.  I was fascinated with everything about it - the mess of clothing on the side of the bed, socks and shirts strewn around, as if someone had melted and left only their garments as markers that they ever existed at all.  Even a pair of glasses lay askew on the carpet, next to a pair of jeans and Chucks.

If I listened, I could almost hear my own heartbeat, beating in time with the glints of light off of that rubber surface, as though the Rubbered One were moving, in infinitesimally small increments, writhing on the bed in either pleasure or agony -

I blinked, shook my head, and pressed down deliberately on the screen, for the little “Save Image” dialog to appear.  I needed to see that again, sometime.

It was a lot sooner than I thought.

I had to excuse myself from my lecture.  I was shaking, and my breath was wobbly in my mouth.  Words had come out gummily, and I was worried that someone would be convinced I was having a stroke.  I’d send in a TA to finish off the lecture, not that anyone in the darkened hall was paying attention anyway.  

I went into the nearest bathroom, a single-room lavatory, and sat down hard on the toilet.  Instantly, my hands fished out my phone from my pocket and called up my Photos.

There, on the top of the digital heap, was the faraway glisten and shine of the Rubbered One.  I sighed in relief, in pleasure.

You would too, if you’d seen the picture.  Don’t judge me.

A whisper of triumph, of pleasure, of satisfaction, threaded through my mind as I opened up the picture.  There it was again.  That endlessness, that Void, that Nothing.  I craved it, and I didn’t know why, and I needed to know why, and to know why, I needed to keep looking.  I needed to keep looking to stop looking.

The Rubbered One had moved.  I remember its legs being in a different scissor - left on top of right, and now it was right, on top of left.  

This did not frighten me.  Perhaps it should have.  Pictures are not supposed to move.

But in my addled state of mind, I was blissfully unaware of the warning - or even, really, of the thought itself.  It slid right out of my head, as if on a glossy sheet of black ice.  I smiled, warmly, the shuddering ceasing.  

Then, surprising even myself, I unzipped my pants, and hauled out my cock.

Nothing would stop me.  I was a man determined.  I could even smell the rubber, could feel it lifting, wafting out of the screen of my phone.  That smell, that smell that I have no words for - something utterly inorganic, but somehow seductive for that very reason.  

I jerked off, right there, in the bathroom around the corner from the lecture hall.  I sat so still, my hand doing all the work, that the motion-sensing lights clicked off, leaving me alone, lit only by the powdery light of my phone.  There, in the enclosing, mummifying dark, I jerked myself off and came with a jagged, oblique moan that slid out of me, catching me by surprise.  

I may have even been in such a hurry to get inside that I didn’t even lock the bathroom door.  This suspicion came to me as I exited, stuffing myself shakily back into my khakis and my blazer.  You see, the door had opened seamlessly, with no hint of a lock dis-engaging.  

In fact, the momentary thrill of being caught as I masturbated to the Rubbered One flicked a little shiver of pleasure up my shaft anew, and I started shuddering so much that I had to grab the wall for fear of falling over.

All hail the Rubbered One!

There was no way I could go back to my lecture now.  I fled the campus for the safety of a local coffeehouse.

OTHER THINGS STARTED HAPPENING. Like how I thought I was having a stroke, before?  I found that, when I spoke, my mouth felt oddly compressed, as though I had lockjaw.  I went to the doctor, but when they told me to “open wide and say ahhh” I had no trouble - my jaw, seemingly re-oiled, complacently opened its full width, and I made the obligatory noise.  

Nothing wrong with my temporo-mandibular joint, advised the healthcare professional.  

And yet, as soon as I left the office, trying to speak to the Uber driver, to give him directions to my apartment, the same muffling, mysterious pressure returned, and I was only able to speak in tight, restrained tones.  

It didn’t occur to me until much, much later, that this was the voice of someone wearing a rubber gas mask, much like the one I am wearing now.

After awhile, I stopped talking altogether.  Of course, this did make it rather difficult to be a professor, and so that had to stop, too.

But what does a mute member of society do, when the one thing they have in life is a degree in English Literature?

Well, the first step is despondency, and denial.  I spent a month at least, just searching tumblr for more pictures of the Rubbered One.  Sure, there were plenty of pictures - the fetish for rubber has never been a subtle one - but none of them had that same irresistable sheen and shine, that fathomless Void, of the Rubbered One.  I’d exhausted most of the blogs.  I kept returning to the photograph I had saved to my cloud - and jerking off to it, again and again, like a desperate man.  Like a junkie.  If I went without, or even thought about going out, my hand developed such a tremor that I looked afflicted with tardive dyskinesia.

It got so bad, and the attacks so frequent, that I eventually just made the picture my home screen on my phone.  That way, if the tremors started, a quick pocket-dig and finger-flip would open up the likeness of the Rubbered One, and instantly, I would calm.

And (he?  It?) continued to move.  Perhaps, now that (he?  It?) knew that I had noticed the movement, it happened more and more, and faster, as though I were watching a video rather than a photograph.

Now, in addition to the slow, sensual scissoring of its legs, the Rubbered One was turning its head, away from the suckling devotion of its prey and turning to look at me, choosing me, directing its energy towards me.

I already had my rubber in the mail.  It took some doing, some difficult work, some self-measuring, but before long the order was placed and the shipment was made.  It was, of course, a link that I’d seen on tumblr, from one of the many rubber fetish sites.  Drone, and a series of numbers, I think.  One of the ones that’s talking about being absorbed into a Hivemind, a Central Core.  Nothing that ever really appealed to me.

The only thing I wished to absorb into was the Rubbered One.  

I ached, yearned, to be the man in that picture.  I was even jealous of him.  Who was he to show his devotion to such a being, such a beautiful entity?  Would not I be a better candidate for the first apostle position?  

But I knew, somehow, deep inside, that I wouldn’t even be considered until I had donned my own rubber.

Here’s where it gets a little weird, right - this is usually the point when in the story, the protagonist gets a little real, sizes himself up, maybe learns something about themselves.  Call me crazy, I know, but at this point, I just knew on the inside, so strongly, that I would never be worthy of the Rubbered One if I wasn’t Rubbered myself.

And so I waited, agonizingly, nearly tearing my hair out, for the package to inch itself across the ocean to my apartment mailbox.  I’d ordered the full suit, of course, the one that most closely approximated my photograph.  

I was utterly consumed, I was ablaze with obsession.  For the first time in my life, I felt an utterly overwhelming feeling - a lack.  I felt as though I lacked something that I had had for just a moment - one sweet moment, hovering, crystalline - and now that I no longer had it, I could never live a whole life again.

And everywhere I went - watching with a hawk’s eye the slow drainage of funds from my bank account - I smelled it.  Rubber.  There was even an auto repair shop, blockaded on one side with piles and piles of tires - I altered my daily neighborhood walk so that I could slowly amble by it, inhaling the thick, gray smell.  The more of it I could get on me, the more I wanted.  If there were a cologne that smelled of rubber, I’d wear it - hell, I’d bathe in it!  I twitched for it to be near me, on me, inside of me.

THE DAY MY NEW FACE CAME IN THE MAIL. I was wearing rubber gloves, made for chemical and construction workers, pressing them to my face, and inhaling as deeply as I could, when my phone made its little ringing noise to signify that a package was Delivered.

It could only be one thing.

It would only be a matter of moments before I could prostrate myself in front of the Rubbered One.

I hooked up my laptop to my flat-screen television, where the Rubbered One had also become my desktop wallpaper.  I opened up the picture file and let it sit, in the middle of my living room, the picture of Him.

Again, I fell far into His Nothingness, His All-Consuming Void - He turned on the bed, in the picture.  He silently got up.  He moved so subtly that it was impossible to tell if my hallucination was real, or some sort of digital magic.  He kicked, as if insulting, the pile of clothes left by the bedside.

The whole time, He kept his head, His black eyes, His shiny face, impassive and monstrous, but so aloof, so superior - His direct gaze - riveted on mine.

All hail the Rubbered One!

With barely a shimmer, He stepped out of the frame of my television and deliberately into my living room.  Tendrils of black squirmed out around the square of my screen, lashing to and fro idly, almost amusedly.

None of this seemed unreal, or even fantastical.  It was simply as it was - I was in a sort of ecstasy, like the kind the saints have, all-consumed, raptured.  The Rubbered One had chosen me!

Go, He told me without speaking.

I was on my feet, I was sprinting, I was dashing, my hands, still in their gloves, slippery on the door knob.  I was down the stairs before I realized I was barefoot, or that I was still wearing the heavy-duty black rubber gloves.  And there it was - my Rubber.  It was, of course, still in the box, it needed to be freed -

I cradled it in my arms.  I inhaled, as deeply as possible, again.  I could smell it, whining at the edges of my nostrils, begging to be freed.  I felt it, inside its cardboard prison, shifting and rustling.  Whispering.

I brought it upstairs with as much care as a mother would bring home her day-old newborn, but once inside, slamming the door behind me, I pillaged the drawers for the scissors, tearing into the box that would dare imprison my -

And there it was.  Still in a sad, folded-up heap, but it was mine.  

Now, said His voice in my head.  I didn’t have to turn around to know that He, the Rubbered One, was standing behind me - had moved silently from the living room to the kitchen.  I felt Him questing at the edges of my consciousness, starting the interview process.  

I felt a strange mix of craven desire and hot-blooded lust twist through me.  How I wished to possess the Rubbered One!  And how I wished to be possessed by Him!

I began to don my Rubber.  I felt it coo as it met my skin, as I replaced my own with its black sheen.  I saw my toes go, then the top of my foot - ankles, calves and shinbones, kneecaps and thighs - I watched as the black tide continued its creep up my body, as quickly as night follows dusk.  

The Rubbered One put His hands on me and I was nothing, I was everything.  I was part of a gigantic, moaning chorus of voices, I was absolute silence.

I saw Him reach out to me, his Nothing fingers and Nothing hands, his Void arms, his Void body.  I saw Him pull my self to His, and I felt us as we docked, somehow, for an imposssible moment, sharing the same physical space.

Then, with a sound that reminded me of a slurp and a sucking, closing noise, I was no more.

RUBBERBORN. I ceased to exist as I knew myself.  

I had a name.  

I wasn’t much of somebody, but I was somebody.  

Now, I was part of a growing, aching consciousness - I was part of a vast, growing hunger.  My thoughts were no longer my own.

All hail the Rubbered One!

I buzzed and chirred, excited beyond words.  I was ramrod hard, even in the rubber, which smoothed everything away, everything - all emotion, all thought, all nerve, all worry.  All features of my face - gone.  All features of my body - slurped up.  

I stood in front of the mirror.  All sign of the Rubbered One was vanished.  I could see, somehow, through my suit, though it had no eyeholes.

I saw through Rubber eyes.

I understood that I was Rubberborn.  That this was my destiny.  

The words “my” and “me” and “I” and “mine” were erased, scratched out heavily.  I was plural, now.

We were plural.

We stand in front of the mirror, staring at ourselves, our new body.  A mere morsel in the face of our hunger.  

Do you feel it?

As our eyes swivel slowly, tracking across the room, away from the mirror.  Looking into the camera lens backwards.  Do you feel the chilly fingers of our gaze landing on you as you read?  Playing along your bare shoulders, the pliable, delicate skin of your arms?

The Rubberborn understand and acknowledge that this body can be used for purposes that satisfy the hunger.  

They gave it the name rubbrfrk9.  The name you know, the author of these stories you read, curious in your own way to know how the rubber feels.  The same name you’ve seen watermarked on pics of us as you scroll by on your tumblr feed.  

Or maybe you already know - maybe you’ve already felt the ecstasy, struggling into your own shirt or pants.  Gloves or socks.  Mask or hood.  

Perhaps all of the above.  

Perhaps the voice of the Rubbered One is even now mingling with your own thoughts.  Sinuous, twisty, shiny and smooth.  Silken whispers, just an undercurrent of sibilant breath in the background, there.  If you strain, you can make it out.  Can hear our voices.  

We can sense you.

We know.

We are coming.

Say it with us now: All hail the Rubbered One!

[thorne93]

Unforeseen Chasm (Part 36)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count: 4443

Warnings: Language, mentions of kinks/sex, adult themes

Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

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

First thing that you and Shannon set off to do was to find a place to look at wedding dresses. Shannon didn’t want to leave Nat out so she invited her as well things however felt a bit awkward due to the fact that at that moment Nat was the maid of honor and Shannon‘s best friend, you, were just her best friend. 

You weren’t sure if you expected Shannon to grant you the honor of maid of honor or not. Of course you wanted it, but you knew that could be awkward for Shannon to handle. You didn’t want to pressure her to suddenly take the title away from Nat. You would be happy no matter what she decided. You could completely understand if Shannon didn’t want an ex-con as a maid of honor. 

“Y/N, could you give us a moment really quick? I’d like to talk to Nat about something,” she said, hoping to fix the situation. 

Both women, equally confused, looked at each other and then at her. 

“Uhhh sure I’ll go get something to drink.” She walked into the kitchen where she found a bottle of orange juice. 

“Hey, Nat, I was hoping we could talk.”

“Actually I’ve been wanting to talk to you too,” she said, coming closer to her. “I’ve given it a lot of thought and I'm really honored that you’d asked me to be your maid of honor but I think you should give that title to Y/N. You two have been friends for a long time, longer than you and me have from our days back in The Red Room.” Nat went on to say although she didn't trust you she wanted to make the wedding about Shannon and not the awkwardness that they were having at that moment. 

“Nat, you have no idea how much that means to me. I hated the idea of taking the title from you because we’re great friends too and you’ve been there since the start of all this.” She hugged her friend knowing she would find a way to make it up to her. “What about being my my bridesmaid? Seeing as it's only you and Hill are the few women closest to me.” 

“I would love that, Shannon. It’s still an honor to be a part of this happy moment for you.” She pulled back slightly to see her eyes. 

After the two talked they went to find you so that they could all head to the store. Upon arriving to the store she was greeted by the owner. Although the story was removed from the news that didn't stop people from treating she differently knowing who she were getting married to. 

While Shannon was taken to the back to try on a few dresses the other two women waited and talked about Nat giving you the title if maid of honor. 

“Sooo…” Nat dragged, suddenly turning towards you. 

You stilled, unsure how to respond to Natasha. She was a formidable woman, one that you hardly ever interacted with. Before you left for Asgard three years ago, you’d probably met her twice at one of Tony’s parties. The third time you met, she was trying to kill you and your boyfriend. Not exactly “best girlfriend” material. 

“So,” you returned evenly. You weren’t sure how to handle this. You didn’t want to be overly sweet to someone who didn’t like or trust you, but you didn’t see a reason to be hateful to her either, so you kept it cordial. 

“So, Shannon and I talked,” she continued.

“Oh?” You turned to her, your arms crossed. 

“Yeah, we thought, given the fact that you’re out now, and you and Shannon being so close… Well… we thought that the title of maid of honor should go to you… if you’re up for it. It’ll be a lot of responsibility and I know that can be daunting with you just being released today but--”

“I’ll do it,” you said, cutting her off. 

“Are you sure? I thought you might want to, but I also know the outside world might be a little much right now, and handling a wedding might be… I don’t know, a lot for you to handle.”

“Natasha, if you’re worried I’m going to snap or lose my shit because I have to help my best friend with a wedding, then you have nothing to worry about. I want to be here for Shannon. I want to help with this wedding.” 

She held up her hands in defense. “That’s not what I was saying…”

“But you were thinking it. Look, Natasha, I get it. You think Loki and I are basically a basket full of crazy. I’m going to be honest, we were. Loki nor I were in the right state of mind when we attacked New York, but we’re better now. I’m not going to flip out, or hurt you, or hurt Shannon, or do anything but give Shannon the most magical wedding she deserves. I hope you can put aside your bias and help me in that?”

“I think I can,” she said with a tiny smirk, sort of impressed at your no-nonsense stance. “Thank you, for being honest and real with me.”

“If I wasn’t, you would’ve figured it out anyway,” you muttered. “Kind of a gift of being from the Red Room, right?” 

Natasha’s lips perked up in a side smile. “Pretty much.” 

After a little moment passed, you quietly leaned towards her and said, “And thank you, for letting me have the title. That means a lot. You didn’t have to, but you did.”

“Well, like you said, Shannon deserves a magical wedding.”

“That she does,” you agreed in a murmur. 

Just then, Shannon stepped out of the hallway that led to the dressing rooms. She was a total vision in white.

“Oh, Shannon,” you gushed in almost a whisper. 

“Do you like it?” she asked, unsure as she picked up the skirt and looked at it. 

“It looks great on you,” Natasha answered.

“How does it feel?” you asked as she made her way over to the platform and stepped up. 

“It feels very… white,” she noted with a  small laugh.

You smiled at her reflection. “Yes, but does it feel bridal to you?”

She looked at it for a moment. “It’s very pretty, but I don’t think it’s the one, you know?” 

“Then we’ll keep looking. The first dress usually isn’t the winner,” you commented. “Want us to pick some out for you?” you offered.

“I’d love that. All of these choices are overwhelming,” she noted, glancing around the store. 

“You go get out of that one and we’ll bring some others,” you stated.

With that, the three of you split up. Natasha found simple gowns. Gowns that had very little detail, full satin, or full lace. Some short, some long. 

You aired on the side of dramatic, some with bling, some with unique lacing or patterns. Just to give her variety. 

By the end, you found about ten gowns. None of them quite fit her. Some didn’t accent her best features. Some didn’t match her skin tone. Some didn’t hit her at the right length. 

“This is hopeless,” she said as she started to march off the platform in the last dress.

“Hey, come on, it’s only the first day,” Natasha tried.

“Yeah, we’ll try another store tomorrow. Why don’t we go grab some lunch for now? Maybe that would help?”

“Yeah, I’m starving,” Shannon agreed. 

Shannon changed back into her clothing, where the consult gave her her card in case she had questions or wanted to come back. You thanked the shop clerk and the three of you left, setting off towards one of your favorite restaurants in Manhattan. It overlooked Central Park and they had the best lunch menu in the city in your opinion. 

The three of you got seated and as soon as the waiter took your drink order, Natasha excused herself to go to the restroom.

“So… how’s the first day so far?” Shannon tried cautiously. She didn’t want to upset you by reminding you Loki was out or bring to your attention you were an ex-convict, but she wanted to check in with you, to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed.

“This has been fantastic honestly. I can’t imagine any other way to celebrate my first day out than by wedding dress shopping with my best friend,” you informed with a sweet smile. 

“Good! Great! I’m so glad to hear that…”

“Yeah, I think it’s good… Hey, Shan…”

“Hmm?” she hummed while she looked over the menu. 

“When do you think Loki’s gonna get out?” 

“Oh, um, I’m not sure. I’ve been trying very hard to get him out with you. But I think they want another month, at least. Why?” 

“Well…. I’ve been thinking… I’d like to get an apartment… with him.”

She froze before putting her menu down and looking at you. “An apartment?” 

“Yeah. I mean, when he’s released. We won’t stay at the cell... “

“Right. You weren’t going to go back to Asgard?” she wondered. Asgard was your home after all, and Loki’s. It would seem only right to return to the land you came from. The land where she thought you belonged.

You shook your head. “I’ll ask Loki, but… Earth makes me happier. At least for now, you know? I think Odin wouldn’t be too happy about Loki’s last escapades, and I missed you too much while I was up there. Earth… it’s what I know best. Maybe in a few years when we start talking about a family or something we could go back, raise our children there but… I think I’m gonna stick around on Earth for a while, what do you think?”

Happy tears were already stinging Shannon’s eyes as she gazed at you. 

“I think that’s wonderful. I’d love it if you stayed here. Would you want a suite in the tower? I could find a whole floor, you could decorate it how you wanted--”

You held up your hand. “I appreciate the offer, Shannon, I really do, and I’d love nothing more than to live a few floors away from you but… I’ve been chained to that tower for two years. Honestly, I don’t want to live in it or live anywhere near it.”

Shannon’s face and heart sank. Of course you wouldn’t want to live there. That was selfish of her to assume that. But she wanted to at least try.

“I understand. The offer still stands though.”

“Thank you, really. It’s just… The Avengers not trusting Loki, or me. And us having to stay in there…. I’d like us to be on our own, have some privacy for the first time. Even when we lived on Asgard, he and I were hardly ever alone.”

“That’s right.. And then on Sanctuary. I totally get it. No biggie. So you’re gonna start apartment hunting?” 

“Yeah… Somewhere here in New York. Oh, shit I need a job,” you realized, laughing. “I have my savings stil from before I left but if I’m gonna pay rent, I’ll need a job.”

Shannon twisted her mouth to the side. “Would you be opposed to me helping you find a job?” 

“Not at all, know any good ex-con programs?” you asked with disdain. 

Shannon gave you a scolding glare. “That's not funny.”

“Wasn’t supposed to be,” you noted. “Anyway, yeah, I’m up for anything.”

“What about working in the lab with Bruce?” 

“Bruce?” you asked, frowning. “Are you sure he’d want me to?”

“He needs a partner on molecular physics. That isn’t really my area and a lot of people get nervous around him. Seems like the perfect fit.”

“And he’s not going to… you know… hate me being around him?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. I’ll double check but as long as you’re running math, he could care less.”

“Okay, yeah, that’d be nice.” 

“You know that apartment we both shared is still ours, right? I haven’t gone there in a few days but you’re more than welcome to take that for you and Loki,” Shannon suggested, hoping that would help bring you to a place where you feel comfortable.

“Really? You never sold it?” you asked, perplexed. 

She shrugged. “Nah. Sometimes I used it to get away. Every now and again I used it when I missed you. All of your things are still there.” She looked down at her hands hoping it didn’t sound idiotic. “So I would go and visit, back when you were on Asgard, or missing, or even when we weren't talking. It was like I could step in there and you weren't gone.” 

You gave her an apologetic, sympathetic smile. “I'm so sorry for that.” 

“It’s always been a little safe haven to me,” she said. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” She waved her hand.

All of you finished your lunch and then headed back to the tower. Shannon needed to grab the key to the apartment and the two of you would head their next, to get you acquainted. 

It still felt more than unnatural to be out of that cell. Sure, the last time you were out you could roam, but that was only at Xavier’s mansion. You could literally go anywhere in the world right now, even go back to Asgard.

The three of you entered the tower and you rode up to the commons floor, where the living room, kitchen, and some of the bedrooms for the Avengers. Just as the three of you stepped out of the elevator, Tony walked by, mug in hand. He glanced over at the three of you.

“Hey, babe. Hey, Y/N/N…” 

Suddenly, he did a double take at you, his eyes going wide. “Y/N? You… you’re out…”

“Yeah, the release was today,” Shannon suddenly reminded softly as Tony stared at you with an unreadable expression on his face. How daunting it was that so many happy, pained, conflicted memories could live between the two of you. 

“Oh… right. Yeah I guess with everything going on… I forgot…” he said half heartedly, his mind seeming to be in another place as he eyed you up and down. 

You couldn’t help but mess with Tony a little. So a charming smirk crept onto your face as your fingertips had tiny streams of purple dancing around them, sparking every so often. “What’s wrong, Tony? Worried about me?” 

He cleared his throat before he and Natasha took off down the nearby hallway before Shannon turned to you.

“Before you go anywhere else, I need to show you something…” she suddenly said, seeming a little nervous.

“Sure, hun. Anything. I’m in no rush. I’m just excited to be out,” you assured, reaching forward and rubbing her arm. 

“Well, with you being on parole, there are a few… conditions, stipulations, if you will,” she said, walking forward. 

You nodded, listening. “Well… Yeah, sure, I guess I expected that,” you stated. In all honesty, you did. You were fully aware they wouldn’t just open the door and say “have a good life!” and wave you off with a friendly smile. You and Loki had nearly leveled one of the largest cities in the United States -- that came with a hefty punishment. 

“So, you’re still free to go wherever you’d like,” she explained as the two of you continued going to some unknown place in the tower. 

“Mhm…”

“But well… you need to do a few things to… well… to keep that freedom…” she informed, feeling utterly crappy for having to be the one to deliver the news. 

You frowned until she gestured through the glass at a man that was familiar to you. You glanced at her with a side gaze before the two of you walked into the lab where he was working. 

“You’ll have to be coming to Bruce to check in.” She waved over to him. “He will be in charge of seeing how well you are… so in other words.. he’s your parole officer.” She looked away from you and smiled when Bruce hugged her.

“Hello, Y/N, it's good to know your finally out of that cell.” He moved from her side to face you. “I will however ask that you come work with me a few times a week as a check in and a way to keep you busy.” He motioned around the lab. 

“Oh… Are you sure this is okay with you?” you asked feeling like you’d been dumped on Bruce. “I don’t want to be in your way.”

“No, no not at all it would be of great help to have you around seeing as there’s somethings I’m not aware I could figure out.” He looked back at you hoping that this will help a bit. 

“There’s no pressure, Y/N/N. If you feel uncomfortable you can tell me right now and we’ll see who else we can have as your officer,” she rushed her response hoping to smooth things over. 

“Thanks… I’ll keep that in mind, for now I think I’m somewhat okay with this,” you told her reaching to wrap your arm around her shoulders 

“Well if you two ladies excuse me I need to get back.” He started walking away. “I will be contacting you soon enough about our arrangements.” With that he left. 

As soon as he was out of earshot, you leaned in closer to Shannon, whispering. “So I just have to check in with him and work in the lab a few times a week?”

She shrugged and smiled. “Yeah, pretty much. Is that okay?” she wondered. She was nervous, since Bruce had beat Loki to a pulp. Had you forgotten that? Or had you forgiven it? She didn’t want to trigger you,but she didn’t want Bruce to suddenly mention it later, and that trigger you either. 

“It’s fine… It’s just…” You didn’t know how to tell her it’s a bit uncomfortable having to check in with him because of what he had done. You knew you should put it in the past but it's hard knowing that Bruce let Hulk hurt Loki and you couldn’t do anything about it. 

“Y/N/N, you know you can tell me what’s wrong, right?” She could read you like an open book and that sometimes scared you but knew it wasn't something she would do on purpose. “I know it’s weird that it’s Bruce because of the incident that happened two years ago but I’m sure he wouldn’t purposely bring it up.” 

“It is a bit weird but I guess it’ll take some getting used to. I'm just so glad that I'm out of there and that Loki will be out of there too.” 

Shannon could tell you were holding in the excitement. 

“Well let's get out of this floor. Do you wanna maybe go to the apartment or do you wanna go see Lucky?” She looked a tiny bit relieved. “I think it’ll be nice to see how he reacts to seeing you again.” 

“Sure, I’ve missed him so much and yeah it’d be nice to head to the apartment.” The two of you walked to the elevators heading to what you assumed was Shannon’s old floor. “Maybe I can get some of my things and take it down to the cell.” 

“Sure thing. I could grab my suitcase so you can put whatever you’d like to grab in there.” The two of you arriving and the destination rather quickly. “Lucky! Come here, boy,” she called as she walked around the kitchen.  

“You still keep this stocked up?” you asked, seeing the fridge filled with food. “I thought you and Tony shared his floor.” 

“Well yeah but sometimes I like coming down here, it’s usually when I know Tony will be in the lab all night long when I’ll come sleep here and share the bed with Lucky.” In that moment Lucky came bounding in like such a happy puppy even though he was about 5 years old. 

The first thing you noticed was how big he had gotten and how fluffier his fur looked. Crouching down to eye level you tried to pet him but he seemed to be a bit shy. Frowning, you look up at Shannon. 

“Seems like he’s forgotten who I am,” you said sadly. You didn't think he’d forget so quickly you weren’t gone that long… were you? 

“Well, Y/N/N, you were gone for almost three years when you went to Asgard and then another two when you were down in the cell…” she sounded just as sad. “Maybe let him sniff you, he might still know your scent.” 

Reaching out your hand palm facing up. Lucky looked from Shannon to your hand seeing her nod her head, Lucky got closer and took a sniff. It wasn’t long until he realized it was you that caused him to get all happy and a case of the zoomies hit him making both women laugh. 

He jumped up to lick your face managing to knock you down and attacking you with licks and huffs. “It's good to see you too, boy. I’ve missed you a bunch.” You ruffled his fur and he nodded his head like he agreed. 

“Is there any soda in the fridge?” you asked hoping to get your hands on some. “Could use a fizzy drink.”

“Yeah there should be some of the kind you like in there.” Heading for the fridge, she opened the door for you to grab some. 

“Thanks.” You took a sip of some for what feels like ages since the last time you had some. “Wow this tastes so good!” You down the whole can in one go. 

“Woah, Y/N, don’t worry there's more in the fridge,” she laughed as she handed you another can. “Don’t want all the gas going up your nose.”

You laughed. “I guess I forgot how good food can be. God, I’m going to eat everything in sight,” you joked, remembering all the food you’d missed out on.

“Well lucky for you I’ve got a little welcome home surprise.” She motioned to the living room. “I’m sure you’d missed them just as much as they have.” You both walked in and you froze in place. The two people you’d never thought you’d see again were standing there with tears in their eyes. 

“Y/N!” They both gasp and the three of you crash into each other in a giant hug. “Dear, we’ve missed you so much!”

They both talked at once. Shannon’s parents had taken you in as their own daughter and you felt like you were finally home.

“How long have you been here?” you asked them, clearing the tears from your eyes. 

“Shannon called us while she was in the changing room at the bridal store saying you had returned from your trip,” her mother said. “And we were so excited we just had to come down here and see you.” 

You look over at Shannon and she mouthed “they don’t know about the cell”. You nodded your head and the four of you sit and chat hearing about everything that's happened since you’ve been in prison.

It was going to be hard to pretend you’d been off in Asgard doing amazing things for the last few years. 

“So tell us about you! How have you been? How was Asgard! Tell us all about it!” Diane said excitedly. 

You shot a quick look to Shannon, who encouraged you on with a head nod and a nervous look. 

“Uh, well... It’s lovely. I had an amazing job there, I lived with the royal family. The city is plated in gold and rainbows. It’s truly breathtaking.”

“Wow that sounds wonderful,” Tom, Shannon’s dad, remarked. 

“It is…” You twisted your fingers around themselves. “I also, uh, met someone,” you informed. They were just like your parents, right? You could tell them anything, right? They’d want to know that you were happy, in a good relationship, right?

“That's fantastic, sweetheart! On Asgard?” Diane wondered.

“Uh, yeah. His name is Loki, he’s the prince,” you stated. 

“Well tell us what he’s like?” Tom asked always being very fatherly. “How does he feel about coming back home?”

“Uh, he’s fine with it. I think. He’s patiently waiting for me. He wants me to experience the world again,” you said, dancing on the line of truth and lie. “He’s very smart, cunning, clever. He graduated top of his class in Asgard… He’s incredibly witty, and very well read. He loved his mother dearly, before she passed. They were very close. She taught him magic. He’s a very good sorcerer.” 

Shannon was on her phone in an instant looking for one of the pictures you had sent her when you had been getting to know him. “Here, this is a picture she sent me of the family and this is him.” She passed the phone to her parents and pointed at which one Loki was.

“Well, dear, he sounds like a wonderful man and from the looks of it he’s quite handsome.” Diane winked at you. 

“He sure is,” you agreed on both accounts.

“When will we get to meet him?” Tom wondered, sounding excited. 

At this, you didn’t really have a good answer. So you tried to come up with something that wasn’t a total lie. “Uh, whenever he’s free. I’ll let you know when that is,” you informed with a nod. 

“From what Y/N told me he’s a very busy man lately but hopefully as the date for the wedding approaches, we can all meet him in person,” Shannon said to them hoping that will suffice for now. “Why don’t you tell us about your traveling around Europe?” She had changed the topic of conversation not wanting you to feel guilty about them not knowing the truth. 

You look over to her and mouth a silent thank you and the rest of the time was spent hearing about Rome and the beauty of France. Looking at pictures of every location they visited and how happy everyone was made you feel at ease knowing that soon enough there wouldn’t be anymore problems for you and Loki.

“We do hope you come home and soon, dear, we need to have a family dinner before the rehearsal for the wedding,” Diane suggested, hoping to have you back home and spending the day with them.

“Of course, I’ll see when we can do that so that it’s like old times again” you smile sincerely for the first time in what feels like ages.

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

Tag List: @essie1876​ @magpiegirl80​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @iamwarrenspeace​ @marvel-imagines-yes-please​ @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification​ @thejemersoninferno​ @rda1989​ @munlis​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @bubblyanarocks3​ @igiveupicantthinkofausername​ @kaliforniacoastalteens​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @kaelingoat-blog​ @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​ @damalseer​

@heyitscam99​ @yknott81​ @sorryimacrapwriter​ @glitterquadricorn​ @xxqueenofisolationxx @little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama @bittersweetunicorm​ @alyssaj23​ @sea040561​​ @princess76179​​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​​ @sarahp879​​ @malfoysqueen14​​ @ellallheart​​ @breezy1415​​ @marvelmayo​​ @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @paintballkid711​​

Loki: @lostinspace33​​ @ultrarebelheart​​ @lenawiinchester​​ @esoltis280​​ @tngrayson​​ @wangdeasang​​ @harrymewmew @jayfantasyatyourservice​​

UC: @lokis-high-priestess​​

@pandacookieowo​​

[ourkarlanicoleuniverse]

Sweet Nothing (MHA Staff AU Fanfiction)

Chapter 5

Warnings: None swf, slight fluff. 

Author’s note: Literally couldn’t come up for a good Pro Hero name for Mai’s ex colleague so I’m giving credit to my friend @thatgirlwithcamera for coming up with Gemini with ease. As the story progresses you’ll see how it fits perfectly for that character.

The doctor explained all of Aizawa's injuries to me as he was still asleep. Turned aside from the broken limbs, his right arm was also missing a few layers of skin and muscle was exposed, luckily it wasn't infected. We still have yet to see if his erasure quirk was intact, Aizawa had to be awake to check his quirk but that wasn't happening any time soon.

Nezu felt it was best to close the school down for a week to give the staff and students time to recuperate after the attack. During that week I have been just going between my place and the hospital and emailing parents of Class 1-A. Currently though, I was sitting in the love seat they had in the room with my laptop watching Netflix and checking emails.

A few emails caught my eye.

From: miaemilymontoya@gmail.com

To: maimontoya824@gmail.com

Hi Sweetheart,

I know we haven't spoken since the drama revolving around the court case. I just heard about the attack at UA. Now, I am not planning on telling you that you should come to I-Island and lay low here. I just want to let you know I'm not mad anymore and wanted to see if you're okay. Te quiero, mi Sión

Love,

Mami

Great. My mom. I guess she changed her mind about me moving to I-Island and making it come off as her own idea. I'll reply later and blame it on the time zones.

From: boricakorea69@gmail.com

To: maimontoya824@gmail.com

Hiya teach!

How's Japan treating you? I'm only emailing you because my cousin told me about what happened at UA. I hope you're okay and so are the students. Everyone here in the U.S. miss you. Oh! Also I need to know the address to your new place to send you the invitation to Aaron and my wedding. So please let me know soon! Love you, miss you, and hope all is well on your end.

Marga

I quickly typed up a reply giving her my new address and telling her how we're all fine aside from Thirteen and Aizawa being injured. She's probably going to freak out to hear about her favorite underground hero being injured. I gave her a brief sentence or two explaining how I'll tell her more in detail about everything if we ever get to video chat. After replying I went back to my Netflix binge with my eyes switching between the screen and Aizawa's sleeping form every now and then.

"What are you watching?" I jumped in my seat slightly and almost dropped my laptop as the mummy beside me grunted. "Why do you react so dramatically?"

I stood up to help Aizawa move and sit up, I glared at him and grabbed the hospital bed remote to change his position. "Well, I'm sorry, I didn't expect my colleague who was asleep for four days to just speak out of nowhere." Even though his face was bandaged up, I could still sense his signature annoyed expression. I just copied the expression with my right hand on my hip holding the bed remote.

"You're so immature." He sighed and looked down. "Why are you here?"

"Huh? Oh, I guess Nezu didn't tell you about making me your emergency contact since we're partners at the school." I rubbed the back of my neck. "The doctors and nurse think I'm your fiance though, because Nezu wanted to make sure that they didn't try to kick me out." Aizawa simply hummed in response. "I've been here since you came in. All the students wouldn't stop blowing up my email asking about you." I gave a soft chuckle. "They're incredibly worried but relieved that you're alive." It was hard to meet his eyes. I felt vulnerable where I stood despite not being the one in a full body cast. I hugged myself tighter into my cardigan, "I'm going to call a nurse in to let them know you're awake." Another hum was left in the air.

The doctor and nurses told me that I needed to leave the room while they examined Aizawa, despite Aizawa surprisingly refusing me to leave. So, I took the opportunity to go down to the cafeteria to grab a bite and maybe bring something for Aizawa. I decided I would text the group chat between Aizawa, Lily, Iris, Mic, and Midnight to let them know he was awake.

Me: He lived bitches

Mic 🎧🎤: HE'S ALIVE

Iris 👓: Oscar the Grouch has risen? 🧟‍♂️

Iris 👓: Glad to hear he's awake. 💜🖤

Midnight 🌙🥀: Did you tell him that the hospital thinks you're engaged? 😏

Lily 🥧: Wait, who's engaged?

Iris 👓: Aizawa and Mai

Lily 🥧: Since when?

Midnight 🌙🥀 Since Nezu made them their emergency contacts and told the hospital they're engaged. 😂😂😂

Midnight🌙🥀: I can hear the wedding bells ringing

Mic 🎧🎤: More like a gothic organ playing 😂

Me: This is why I don't talk to you guys 😒

Iris 👓: What's the couple name? 🤔

Iris 👓: Shai? Aizontoya... ew no.. Maizawa? Zionhead?

Lily 🥧: I like Shai. It's cute and simple just like the lovely couple.

Me: I'm going to kill you all. 😑

Me: You know Aizawa is in this chat too, right? 🙄

Midnight 🌙🥀: Yes and we don't care 😈 MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Lily 🥧: You guys would have cute babies.

Mic 🎧🎤: They'll be cute because of M&M not Shota.

Me: I'm muting this chat now.

Lily 🥧: We're only messing around 😂

Me: I'll give you guys more info later, now behave children.

Iris 👓: Okay, mama montoya!

Lily 🥧: Love you mama!

Midnight🌙🥀: Make sure you tell daddy we said hi!

Midnight🌙🥀: emphasis on the "daddy" part 😏

Mic 🎧🎤: Kayama please don't sexualize my parents. I just got them back together after fifteen years. You're going to make me not want them 🤢

Lily 🥧: Did someone say daddy kink? I'm here for the mommy kink

Lily 🥧: God I almost barfed typing that

Me: YOU ALL NEED PROFESSIONAL HELP.... BYE.

Mic 🎧🎤: HEEEEEYYYYY WHAT ABOUT ME

My phone kept buzzing. And I'm almost positive Aizawa's phone was going berserk in my purse too. I shook my head and let out a sigh. I grabbed a burger for myself and some fries with a water bottle and then I grabbed an apple sauce packet for Aizawa mainly because I highly doubt he can physically chew on anything right now and well, the man already lives off them. I walked back to his room, hopefully, I'm allowed to come in now, and with my food. None of the staff told me not too when I passed by so I figured it was okay. The door was closed so I looked through the window to see if Aizawa was still with the doctor and the nurses. All I saw was a sad mummy man using MY laptop.

I opened the door with the tray of food in my hand, "Why are you using my laptop?"

"I wanted to check my email." His voice was muffled. He leaned forward to the screen trying to see.

"You can't even type. How did you... never mind. Next time ask to use my laptop, please?" I walked up to him and placed the packet in front of him. "If you feel like your up for it, I'm willing to share my fries." He pushed my laptop to the side and grabbed the packet, struggled a little to open it. I set my food down next to my laptop and opened to the packet for him. At a small glance, I noticed that my laptop was opened on my email. Specifically, the email I got from my mom. "Checking your emails huh?" I raised my eyebrow at him and held myself back from smacking his head.

"As you can see I was struggling a bit to use the laptop in my current condition." He said while sucking on his applesauce.

"But you managed to open my emails?"

"It was an accident. Nice to know your mom is the same as ever." He grumbled.

"You haven't gotten any emails. Most of the staff just sent me anything they needed you to look at since they knew I was with you." I stuffed a fry into my mouth. "So, what did the doc tell you?"

"That I'm surprisingly healthy." He said staring at my fries. And then he tried to scoot over. "You can sit if you want."

I smiled a little and sat next to him, "You want a fry." I waved a fry in front of his mouth and he solemnly leaned forward and let me feed it to him. "Did he tell you about your quirk?"

He leant onto my shoulder, and I was feeling nothing but flames erupt within my body, "Yeah, but I'm not worried. The most that could happen is that I can't use it for as long as I used to." I fed him another fry. "So your mom wants you to move to I-Island after one villain attack?"

I took a bite out of my burger, "Nope, we're not switching to me." I grabbed my laptop and set it on both of our legs switching from my emails to Netflix to find something to watch. "Technically, I wanted to move to I-Island since my mom and my Uncle Dave were there and well I could've had a low profile there like I do here. But my mom and I weren't exactly on the best terms so she told me not to come." I was met with silence, "And then Nezu called me and asked me if I wanted to come back. Funny how that mouse always comes to pick up the slack." I sadly smiled.

"Why were you guys fighting?" Aizawa's voice was muffled but oozed concern.

"Didn't you read the email?" I chuckled and looked over to him.

"So it had something to do with the case against Gemini?"

I nodded and bit my cheek. "She didn't think I should've done anything about him. That I should've stayed quiet. But you know how she is. My whole life, she's been paranoid that with my quirk people would try and hurt me or use me. And you know, since I clearly made a name for myself and moved past all my transgressions. She didn't want me to be a victim again."

"She still shouldn't have shut you out." Aizawa stated a matter of factly.

"Yeah, well, she did." I put on a movie and leant against the pillows on the bed while Aizawa did the same. It was a peaceful silence between us while the movie played quietly. I put on a simple comedy to lighten up the mood and keep us entertained, "I used Oboro's quirk."

"What for?" he shifted slightly.

"I had to hide Midoriya and All Might from the villains while Snipe shot at them." I folded my arms, "They saw my face though, so I guess using the quirk did have a setback."

"You did what you could in the moment. I'm sure they won't even remember you after that. Just actually wear your glasses and maybe they won't recognize you." I heard humor in his voice.

"Ah yes, the famous glasses disguise." I waved my hands in a rainbow motion earning a small chuckle from the both of us.

"The doctor said that Recovery Girl can come in and pretty much help me heal faster so I can get back to work sooner."

"I wouldn't suggest going back so soon. You have to give yourself a chance to actually heal. You trying to teach students is mentally and physically draining." Ah, yes, Mai. Please lecture the 30 year old man like he's a child.

"The school isn't even open right now. I'll be fine by next week." He went back to his monotoned gruffy voice.

"As your fake fiance, I have to say no to you going back to work. Just have Midnight or Mic take your place." Boy I am so glad that I can't see Aizawa's face with those bandages. I do however see the glowing red and floating hair from his quirk. "Oh, look, your quirk works!" I smiled brightly to show I wasn't intimidated even though I was. "Fine, maybe Midnight or Mic shouldn't take over for you. I have a better option."

He turned off his quirk and gave a stern and cold voice, "Who?"

I pointed to myself all proud, "Me!"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?" I puffed my cheeks into a small pout.

"You said you couldn't teach."

"I said I couldn't use my quirk to teach. I can just act like you. 'Today you will pick your hero names while I nap.'" I tried my best Aizawa impression. Needless to say he was not amused.

"I hate you."

"Awe, but baby, we're engaged." I smirked.

"No, we're not." He groaned.

"Oh no, sweetheart, did the blow to your handsomely stupid head make you forget your undying love for me?" I put a hand to my heart and pretended to be heartbroken and then I went to hold him gently while fake sobbing, "It's okay, love, I'll do my best to have you fall back in love with me."

"Please get off of me." I didn't. "You're insufferable."

"Why must you be so mean to me, Shota baby." I let out a few more sobs before finally letting him go. "You think I was annoying, you should see the group chat. Apparently we're parents to our friends now."

Aizawa responded with another groan and a brief, "I hate the people I surround myself with." I simply gave him another hug which he tried his best to wriggle out of, but eventually just gave in. "You're annoying."

"Shut up and let's go back to watching the movie, butthead." I said while stroking his hair.

——————————————————————

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[bemybestoy]

Genesis of me

Genesis: becoming me! Hello bitches and kink lovers,This blog shall be an open letter to guide and smooth out  our relationship as I am sick and tired of how a dominatrix and a sub's role are misunderstood. Let me introduce myself, I am Krisztina, a pro domme, in my 30's and I am embracing this role for around 8 years. Meaning I am highly experienced and I tried it all, expect the practices that reach out my limit. Such as permanent damage, I would never put the life and health of a slave of mine in jeopardy not thru my instructions or even just widness(you cannot even imagine thru years how many times I was asked if we can perform a c2c castration  precedure, stabbing with knifes or swords for any amount I can posibly think of asking. I repeate it was about c2c so not bulshit as I would watch all along). When I refused such life threatning session I was offered same only to watch, not to instruct. Answer is still NO everytime. BDSM is not abuse, it is not guided endangerment, it must be sane, sane, consensual and have very clear boundaries of safety. To rewind i started to explore this world in my early 20s ofc and suprise , suprise in real life. Even if i am mostly an online fetish chathost and online domme, I did not know such sections of BDSM exist in camming world, till after a few years i have done dominance in real life. Let me explain! So I had a mid managemnt job after my university in a multinational company, which was and still is top 3 globally in its field and shall always be. There is not even a child all across this world that does not know what company is about when hearing it's name (do not be cretin enough to ask me the name, I will tell NO to your face. Or ask you what info you wish next home adress, Id identification number, blood group or home keys along with an open window in case you do not manage to use the keys:)) ). So i was there around 1 years and half and had a long distance relationship with often travelling . We all know those never lastunless one of the two moves abroad. So I hapilly informed my family and work collegues I wish to move to a different country to move in with my bf/ soon to be fiancee. The question in everyone's head right now was you bf your was Ds relationship? the honest answer is hell no! my bf was alike me a real alpha, one of the strongest man psysical and mental both and definetly would not take attitude from no woman (not even the love of his life, unless he was dick and she was right. To understand you need to picture a man at height 1,95 cm and around 100 kilos all fibers and muscles as he had been a kickboxer and when i met him a trainer for kickboxers at European level. A true montain of a man who yet never felt his manhood threaten if he discussed his feeling with me, his desires, his sensibilities, things i would do or say to hurt his feeling even involuntary a I was busy all the time and moving fast etc). So not only that he was not the submissive type, but even if we were in harmony from time to time he would give me 'attitude'. Now even if I am pleased and happy, even if I amm not the nagging type, no matter who you are and how much I love you, if you cross me I will whoop your ass. After a fe episodes, as chasing him thru the apartment every room with the moop tail pointed a him to kick his ass until he ran out, threating to stab his hand with a fork when he tried to touch my steak after leavig him without one as he made clearly to me he was not a pussy to carry grocery bagsand hence to help and many as suchhe decided I should meet one of his best friend from high school, a lady leaving in a city close. He said we would get along perfectly and the lady and I would get along perfectly. Who would knew I was in for such a big suprise.....(cheshire cat as i recall and type). So I did not know much about her ad what she does for a living when we were instruduced. We had  lovely conversation, then she invited me some day when i am off work to visit her house, met her husband also and spend some more lady time together(I was a manager in one of my bf business a gran coffee shop/ bar it was quite big and had 2 floors one was coffe shop and bar all white with blue lighting surrounding th wide bar and lower floor  couches and tables and ring dance for party rentals such as festivity, anniversieries etc. I done so many things in there: not only i would cash in all the money that being my main, but i would help the other emplyees by making cocktails- I made a course for that- , even cleaning or washing glasses, once out there i was the only personal managing or website, of course PR as even t planning as I was the one who organised every detail of our rental and someone even DJ, a lower floor had DJ booth with pro equipment which i manage to completely fuck up as I had no idea what I was doing and the booked DJ announced last minute he was so coming so my bf said as i am the most modern and tech savvy to give a try to see if i can work it. not only I was not able , but i fucked it up so bad we had to call a tehnician to fix it and he taught me basically how to use it on a minimal level to work it for the party which turned out great. Still cracks me out when i think of my face when i was sure i fucked it up lol. it was a dexter labority moment and his blonde sister deedee: i was like many if i press this and that i will fix it )  I was like well i cannot make it worse :))) Then I decided I need some female eergy without the 'guys' going everyday at my bf gym to do my box training, my krav maga and I gave a call to this lady ask her if I can indeed visit and when It is appropriate to come and suits her schedule.My employees and bf replacing me could manage a day without and i needed a getaway. She invited me in couple or days, my bf drove me to her house and then left to actually replace me. we had an amazing luncheon, laughed, make jokes, just getting to know each other mostly me and her, but also her husband. Then she informed me she had some work to do soon but i can wait with her husband. Unlike I want to come with her. I was like ok I want to come, ut i am not sure whether i disturb you and invite me just to be polite or if it is really ok. i mean i got the best manners you could witnes both on and out of my job. She said she would actually like to share what she does with me as she likes me and she is quite sure having such a strong and open personality  would not make me freak out. I was within my mind ' what should i freak out about?!'. but still acted al casual as i liked her myslf, it only made me very curious. I have a feline personality so curiosity is in my nature, though it is pure and observatory, not the gossip, lame and weak as usual women are. So..... she said she will be busy with work for around 2 hours and if i wanted to stay aside as she cannot pay attention to me. i was like ok... She then invited me at the basement where she said she would met at her 'office' a person whom she expects, as her work space has direct access from garage. Then we would both go downstairs. Well probably telling all cluess made you suspect or realise it was a full dungeon downstairs. a pro dungeon.you should have seen my face when i noticedall the tools, device,suspension systems and the rest of the toys. She looked at me patient and confident, without a care in her mind that i might judge or something.... let me soak it all in... then she asked: You still want to stay or do you want to go upstairs with my husband to keep him company thru soccer game was on tv? " . She was so calm as if she shown me a bush of pants in her garder:)) Then my first outspoken reaction to her it was one of a morron: my first words after what i have seen, my first question asked was if her husband knew about all these(as they do not share a house for more then 10 years). She said yes, but he does not interfer with her work, comes down sometimes, but participates rare and very dismissive toward whom she works with. So I gotten more curious. I obviously suspected what will happen soon, but never withness something alike.Well I done so many sessions and you remember even if having a perfect memory the big lines of the majority. The first one I had only as a peeper I remember in smallest little details. Bitch parked and had a hoody on. he knoecked and when was invited, he went down on his knees down on all stairs. He looked like a maggot or miriapod with his head down to do not cascade over stairs as he was not standing. She then informed her she had a guest which will attend, but will not participate. Not giving a fuck of his reaction. I;ve seen chain suspection bondage, over all punishment and esp cbt along with huge strapon penetration. Shge is quite tall1.80 and she really was at perfect level as he bitch even if him hanging from the ceiling without touch the floor or be close to it even. i was amazed and intrigued. So as soon everything was done and he left ofc i asked so many questions. She answered all with patience even if i must have been annoying like a child and not  take the time to put together the smarters questions. After i while I was blablabla in a hyper manner about what she does as a professional domina I was like wait! does my bf know about this? She smilled and said ofc. He sometimes rarely when visiting me participates even as a master helping mewith pain or bootlicking or stuff. He joins more then my husbnd who when bored and coming down to see when i finish at most lets his shoes licked by my slaves then goes upstairs. I found all these fascinaint and so alternative so ofc I wanted to see more.So often I would visit her as watch her sessions with her slaves. After several mouth a slave of hers made her after session a big financial tribute offer that i participate too and i can second her domining. She asked me if it is something I consider. I did want it, but felt like I would be clueless as per what to do. Even if you watch many times that does not mean you feel suddly like you can replicate that certainty in action. She said not to worry as bitch knows it is my first time and this and following her lead is exactly what it is excites him. So i mus not overthink, just try to have some fun. And damn! It was so much fun! the hormones, the excitment, the laughter from humiliation talk, the driven crazy look on the bitches' face, the overall experience. it was like wow! it is hard to paint it in words, with all lexicon richness or ability to play with words. it is pure extasy! :D:DAfter he felt she made sure he had a chit chat with a glass of wine, making sure i am good with all, she said how great i was as she does not like other lady dommes in general. What was the goodbye part when my bf arrved to pick me up in car she actually did give me my own tribute. how much money! like lots! Then she invited me often to participate in the session in which slave got excited about 2 lady dommes. I accepted that one per week as i was busy with my own line of work. I had so much fun more then a year. Seen lots, done lots.Then a night I was speaking to him in our bed, holding hands, after2-3 rounds of sex and many orgasms. My realtionships are very intimate and I always go for an open man, who is super smart so besides sex and comfy routine I would have a late night conversation till 4-5 am even if we had to bed up and work in couple hours. there is just something that it is most meaninful ina relationship, to communicate ina deep way and to enjoy it lots both of you. and get into each other soul, emotions and deepest needs.So I did ask him : what made you think she would like me and would like her? what made you believe i would enjoy all these as you know we do not do anything as such? He then said he met thru his life many type of women: brainy, prude, whores, dommes, swingerseven submissive lil fmale toys. And he said a true dominant is never made into one. Ofc you can be good if you copy and get exposured to it or at least satisfactory to a slave. But the best dominant are born, not made. It is in their nature and personalities. They give out clues all the time, no matter the random they do.It made me wonder lots. After a couple moment of silence with my head on his chest, lips against his neck and hand holded all thru our talk, just enjoying the thinking of each, the meaninful silence, i asked if he does not feel bothered about that facti enjoy myself playing with slaves when not only he do not do anything alike, but he is not playing with others either. I mean it is a vast emoions i fell which exclude him fully. he said ofc not, as our love life is something i need more then my alternative fun, thta he knows i can live without that experience, but i would be heartbroken if i was without us (you need to understand jealousy cannot be an issue here. Real pro dommes in dungeon do facesitting all dressed up thru latex or leather and it has got a suffocating breath control purpose. i will explain you why: first of all a n evelated domme cares about personal hygiene and she know there are many scat lovers visiting dommes. so to have one licking your pussy it is not quite sanitary. also ass worship is done thru leggings. the most expensive, best dommes will never allow a slave licking. that is just some vanilla crap made up buy hookers selling sex and bdsm aswell. a well respected professional odoes not indulge in that. I am not saing to use a slave for self sexual satisfaction makes you a bad, poorly skilled mistress. But you do that as a lifestyle domme.Meaning you have a domestic relatinship with your slave who is your life patner. Never in a pro dungeon relationship oral for a slave would be allowed or accepted). Drinking champagne straight from mistress soource yes, but without wiping after. You may have it fromshort distance her controlling her debit makeing her slave do not miss anything unless they agree before on a facial champagne game. But when you go to a pro domme you cannot expect her to enjoy licking pussy and ass. Not to mention licks or even nudity just because it arrouses you. so my bf knew my sex life involved only him, in vanilla terms we all know.And he was ok with my alternative fun. We were even if a modern couple a very faithful one. So our orgasms were only and strictly dedicated to one another, exclusively.He wasgreat in bed so i would have every single day more then ten orgams within couple of hours(we had wakeup sex, luch break sex and couple turns before bed, many squirty orgams, clit or vaginal without squirt). The most sexual gesture i seenin the pro domme who introduced me to this world is just around 3 times within one year to milk cock with latex gloves, but with ruin orgasm. she took hand of when she felt he would come load was shoot without touching he would lick after she pull gloved off and glove was washed after. More often she would make the bitch wank himself while she instructs him closeby. her husband accepted her line as he accepted and love everything about her, but he was like my ex fiancee: hear pussy, ass, breast, orgams, real sexual intimacy are for your pratner. Not for everyone. That is a hooker thing to do. To gave all that just just random everyones. One after the other.That is not what a real dmme is made off. Her strenght and charm comes out because he in full intimacy is hard to get if not impossible. And by all means a slave shoould be use till u reach full sexual satisfaction. But only for your chosen one or ones. I fyou are a lifestyle domme and have a slave as life partner or few slaves as toys as open relationship is ok. But you cannot expect same from a real pro domme! That is something builtand leveled up!PS Hmmm now to breath a lil as I poured everything  so fast. deep inhales and exhales. light a cigg after and build this disclaimer. my spelling is awful as you know me i type like a motherfucker in full speed. Ignore all errors and consider the essence of my phrases. I do not believe in going back to spellcheck unless you publich a book or something editorial. I did that during university in an non paid internship, both as corrector and publisher. But it was a publication spread and shippd on a national evel. And in both roles i learned that the first message and thought till publishing as you go back several times are worlds apart. So much changes. And since I do not publish something wanting to be of intellectual value I wish a very spontaneous, fast writing. It is the most sincere, no filters and even if shifting thoughts without a bridge causing some lack of coherency now and then it is more powerful as the first reactions are.  So yes a blog! why a blog? i do not do social media. it is lame, tacky and became brainless. i miss books or blogs at least. and i do not like at all media unless i do exposure over it from bitches craving for begging and tribute me for it. These reasons and that I cannot stand screens after 8-10 hours of online being available to sessions. I like to look in eyes of someone I talk to and they looking back at me. Instead of both or all dinner participants looking non stop at phone while we pretend to be together. Meanwhile no one is present as they focused on media and other stuffs over their phone .That is not only lame and un natural  , but also impolite. Themost important ask from people around me is manners first of all. One lack of manners become my refusal to have this creature close to me even silent, simply unacceptable.  In addition, if i must have my eyes after work on something i prefer a good movie or a book. Actual human contact is important to me as little as we have it nowadays with global situation. so NO, unless i will have video call activated which i will seldom have I do NOT exist until i am online the next day I feel the need to have people at my feet :) I am literary out of this world. I do not exist for anyone online. And enjoy it every minute !