#I am just not sure how tatted I

[intramoon]

Finally, working on custom tattoos for Wednesday - 40% done?

[kithtaehyung]

minted: three (explicit) | myg

title: minted: part three (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street vendor!reader series: masterlist | one | two rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: at this point, you would do anything to forget. including the unthinkable with a gangster. note: sooo this series basically saved my writing slump haha. i am still having the time of my life and i’m so excited to show y’all more of this minted universe. and to also show you just how spicy things can get❤️‍🔥 note 2: this is ofc a present for hali @sailoryooons that spiraled into a whole universe. still always gonna thank nary @joonary for letting me use the vendor reader idea, as well! also happy birthday to @remmykinsff @awbells @keylime4eva @aaclariww and @noshit-cantfindagoodone!! to everyone else having a bday around this time, this is my gift to you hehehe. warnings: language, drugs, alcohol, slow burn, murder mentions, gang activity, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, chains bc of course :)), world-building, reader is still sassy, yoongi is still infuriating, tension explicit warnings: under the cut! drop date: december 9th, 2024, 9:03pm est word count: 12.3k 😀👍

explicit warnings: i know it’s a slow burn but there’s definitely smut lol, choking, head/hair tugging, penetration, oral (f rec), backshotssss, marking bye, rough sex, ass play, breast play, his hands are a nice necklace😀, taunting cus reader’s an icon, thighs, breath play, spanking, hand job, protected sex, multiple orgasms, restraints (his hands, robe tie), brat!reader but who is honestly shocked🙂‍↔️, brat tamer!yoongi lmao, yoongi is a menace i’m sorryyyy, but reader is…?????, need them both™, teasing, rawdogging HELLO?? (pls wrap it up fr!), commanding yoongi a ha ha, pain kink, cowgirl🙂‍↕️, this is just the calm before a whole damn storm

—

—

“But,” you exhale with a shake. “Just for tonight…”  

This is it.

The brink of no return.

Your soul dips into the dark.

“Please make me fucking forget.”

Did you go too far? 

Is there a limit to his accommodation? Did you actually think this was gonna be easy? 

When silence swirls between your robes, you start to second guess your demand. 

But Yoongi simply stares before stepping aside, allowing you to enter his room with jellied legs. 

This is madness, but you’re gonna go through with it. Whatever the hell this will be. Because you may not know much, but you figure all men sit up the same when sex is on the table. 

This man, though... 

Quite frankly, you aren’t sure about anything when it comes to him. Unless it’s about him doing something questionable. Then there’s no question about it.

The enigma himself makes no conversation as you step inside, even as your eyes roam around a cleaner, more put-together room than when you left the first time. Did Yoongi clean this much while you made a mess of your dreams? 

The only answer you get is a door shutting, followed by a massive presence at your back. Before you can so much as turn around, the first words on your shoulders burn like embers,

“Was he your first.” 

Fuck. 

This isn’t what you approached him for. He’s supposed to make you forget, not remember. Remember?

You don’t turn around; you don’t respond right away. Instead, you swallow before focusing very hard on the fact that Yoongi sleeps on the bedside nearest the window. At least, judging by the way the covers are flipped. You happen to prefer the side opposite.

The heat from his body proves soft but intense, and you can’t help but close your eyes when you finally answer with a question, 

“Do you remember yours?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you ever regret it?” 

“No.”

Your vision lowers to the rug lying still under the bed. A splash of light grey amongst a darkened, moonlit sea. 

No matter how quick Yoongi answers. No matter how even his tone. 

He still remembers it, too. 

But this isn’t what you expected when you walked in here. You assumed this man was going to get right to it, save no room for you to second guess yourself. Clearly he gave zero shits about kissing you in that taxi, and he damn near undressed you in the living room. 

So what’s the holdup here? Does he want this for real? Or not? 

Head at a slight angle, you admit with a hint of finality, “I don’t wanna talk about that.” 

“Mm.” A warm, rough hand subtly tugs at your belt, and prominent knuckles nudge through the smooth material of your robe. “So what are you really here for.” 

Your eyes blink thrice. 

Yoongi cannot be serious. Does he really not know? 

No. He knows. With a shift of your jaw, you realize he’s just fucking with you, purposefully not in the way you want. “You’re being difficult.” 

“You woke me up.”

Ah. That’s fair. 

“So tell me.” 

Well. If you’re gonna have to spell things out for him, he’s gonna be waiting for awhile. Because the more you stand here not doing anything, the harder it is to gather a little thing called courage. Courage to meet the beast in his den, and madness to let him devour you whole. Now you have neither. Neither, neither, neither.

Awkwardness sticks to your throat until it’s jammed, and you can barely mush your lips together to form sounds. The courage you speak of flees before you can wrangle it, and what’s left of your answer tumbles out like boulders, “This is.. I don’t.. I can’t.” 

“You can.” 

“It’s,” you huff, noting that you don’t like this horrible mix of hesitation and anger, “It’s… I’m—” 

Your vision jolts as you feel a quick tug shit you’re spinning fuck your back just hit a wall—

“Of all things today,” Yoongi murmurs with slits for eyes, “This is what gets you to shut up?” 

Damn it. 

You don’t even have a rebuttal. Because he’s right. Yoongi’s sharp discernment is millimeters from your face and you have no intention to move nor speak. Only quick breaths. Only shaky exhales. 

But you do swallow.

Which brings out a sound you will never admit you like: a breathy, condescending laugh, as coarse and as soft as his touch. 

“You mean to tell me,” he observes, tilting your chin while his irises blaze dark, “You came all the way in here for nothing?”

“No, I—”

“All that talk, and for what.” 

Defend yourself. Say something. Say just one word two words any words—

Did Yoongi just pat your cheek? ..Twice? 

Why did you kinda like that—

“Makes no sense,” he ponders aloud, lolling his head and staring down your crumpled lips. “Who even are you..” 

Now that's an easy one. You always have the answer to that question. 

“No one,” you whisper. “Sorry to disappoint you.” 

Seems like the people back home aren’t the only ones you’ll let down. If Yoongi keeps that question loaded in the chamber, he’s gonna keep shooting the same target. Over, and over, and over. 

But you don’t have to worry. Because he drops it, caging you in with a hand near your stiff, risen shoulder, “So what are you here for.” 

This is a mistake. Either Yoongi doesn’t want this, or he’s being frustrating on purpose and your fire is both stoked and quelled. “Now I don’t know for sure.” 

“The more you stall the harder it gets,” he goads with a lick of teasing. And for a split, minuscule second, you wonder if that meant more than one thing.

Goddamn, he’s annoying. He’s outright savoring this. 

Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised. You woke him up for god’s sake. If someone did this same thing to you after the day you’ve had, you wouldn’t have even let them in. 

Unfortunately for you, Yoongi’s version of dealing with a midnight inconvenience is whittling them down until they leave— 

“So you can tell my bellhop off but I get nothing, huh.” 

Oh, shit. 

Oh, shit. 

You’re so taken aback that you can only ask, “What?” 

Mercifully, the dragon gives you air, straightening before leaving your personal space. 

Your focus should be on his words. You know this. But he uses this moment to rake his hair, and words are no match for the sleeve cascading down his inked forearm. 

Even as his hair flows in waves, you still cling to his tattoos as he looks downward in thought. “You think I wouldn’t check who the fuck was coming up here?” 

It takes you a second to process. 

But you realize what this means and you fall silent again.

Yoongi saw that? All of that? You acted without much thought, and if he really did see and hear everything that went down, there’s a chance he thinks a lot differently about you now. No wonder he’s so thrown by this switch in behavior. 

But on the other hand.. The way he touched you in the living room. Was all that because of what he saw? Is that side of you the one that pulled him close? 

You thought his parting would allow you room to breathe. How very wrong you were. 

Shoving all contemplation aside, you decide to coat the room with concern, your assertion making a brief comeback, “He said a lot of shit, Yoongi. What was that about?” 

He languidly approaches the long table at your side—one you faintly noticed while leaving the room the first time. Unbothered, he slides unhurried fingers over a gun, stopping on the barrel before reaching for something less lethal. 

A decanter, it seems. Liquid flows from the container into a smaller glass, and you assume it’s whisky from the deep amber tones and luscious pour.

When you wonder where else Yoongi litters his weapons, he cuts through your surveying, 

“You really wanna know?” 

Looking up, you nod. 

He sets the bottle down with a dull clink. “He took his chances.” 

“His.. What?” 

Now what the hell could this man mean by that? You were clearly being coaxed into leaving the premises, vaguely feeling like something seemed off. How is he being so dismissive about all this? 

Slowly, Yoongi shakes his head, looking out into the night while taking his initial sip. “I don’t come here often. But when I do, I come alone.” Long fingers nestle his cup perfectly as he explains further, “It’s been awhile, so. Had to feel out the staff.” 

The staff. Is that why Yoongi held your hand? To weasel someone out? You really thought he meant it when he said he just wanted to… 

How naive. 

“His plan could’ve been solid.” 

“But what?” You ask, newfound frustration clipping your tone. 

Yoongi slides you a look over the rim of his glass. “He didn’t know who he’d be dealing with.” 

Your eyes roll so far they strain.

But this begs a question. Does he mean dealing with you? Or him? Surely he meant your little show at the elevator but he could very well mean himself. 

Facts are facts. Would Yoongi really trade il-don for you? Absolutely not. So you have to assume he’s mostly talking about the latter. 

Your scoff is pitched to the side, “Of course. You wouldn’t trade il-don for anything.” 

Yoongi pauses, not acknowledging your comment in the slightest as he strolls back your way. “Something I am curious about..” As he leans in, musk and whisky invade both your space and senses. And you hate, hate, hate that you need more of it. “Who was he talking to?” 

“Someone he royally pissed off.” 

“Mm.” 

“You’re not gonna punish him?” 

“Me? Nah.” Leaning on the sideboard, he stares out the windows across the room. Your vision follows suit. “Not until I have to.”

If what happened wasn’t enough to warrant a punishment, you’re morbidly curious about what ticks the box. “I figured he’d be dead by now. At least for trespassing.”

Yoongi only shrugs. “Grey zones aren’t just amnesty for the clans. Anything goes here, too, so a ransom attempt isn’t surprising.” 

This man really doesn’t stand on black or white. Here you are with eggs for brains discovering you were almost taken instead of saved, and he’s chalking it up to, what, just another Tuesday? Or is it still Monday? You don’t even know anymore. 

Your question leaves you a little scuffed. Because you feel exactly like leftover goods. The fruit at the back. “Are you always this heartless?”

“So I’ve been told.” 

Great. 

So much for being… Safe up… here… 

You glance at the touch on your hip, and your eyes traverse up his arm as he toys with your belt again. 

Shouldn’t you feel disgusted? Shouldn’t you be walking away? It’s crystal clear how little this man thinks of you, or anyone for that matter. He probably brought you along just to be a shield for his precious il-don. So why can’t you bring yourself to leave? 

Your knot starts to loosen.

His voice begins to flow.

“But if you’re gonna go for what’s mine, don’t be an idiot.” 

Wait.

No. Nope. Stop thinking about what that could mean. Because if you think too hard, it will only leave you disappointed. 

But there’s something you won’t stop doing. And Yoongi knows you won’t. So as he keeps playing at your waist, your words come out in shudders, 

“Can’t believe you used me.” 

Yoongi hums, and it makes you shiver when his touch leaves you to rest against wood counters. “You’re about to use me, too.” 

Fucking hell, he’s right. 

“Gotta say I didn’t expect it, but..” Damn him and his head tilts. “I’m impressed.” 

You’re too empty-headed that you can’t even process his words as genuine praise. His touches already feel like pops of lights in the night sky.

It’s a given. You aren’t prepared for him in the slightest.

“Come here.” 

Lightly pulling your hand, Yoongi brings you to stand in front of him. And from this point of view, you become even more ensnared. 

His robe flows down his taut build so beautifully, painting him like dark water over rolling hills. At his peak, the hair you’ve come to miss frames his face like artwork. Mesmerizing. Your downfall. 

“You get one more chance. Tell me why I’m awake.” 

Your brow lift is only a front. The rest of you is shaking, trembling, howling. “You clearly know.”

“Tell me anyway.” 

Relentless. Will you shame yourself for wanting to see him use this same strategy on other people? Most likely. But will that stop you from thinking about it anyway? Absolutely, positively not. 

But there’s another side of you that’s being comforted. And it’s the side that realizes how much he’s spoken, how much time you’ve spent without needing to watch behind your back. 

Yoongi talking this much? It’s making things easier. And it’s strangely making you feel a little better, even if the subject matter isn’t the greatest topic in the universe. 

After you steal a glance at the other whisky glass, you look into his eyes. Determined and decisive. Knowing exactly what you want at this very moment, because you just need a little more time. 

“Tell me more. About grey zones.” 

Something in the air freezes. And Yoongi’s brows crease so comically you almost laugh. “That’s it?” 

“Yes.” 

His nod is slow as he sets down his glass.

And you’re quickly hauled back so fast that you don’t have time to react. 

A rush of air. The world topples. Soft sheets. 

Dangerously, a thin chain sways above as Yoongi shrouds your body in silk and lingering smoke. A gasp escapes you as he peers into your eyes, and your senses fire as a commanding hand slides up your thigh. 

“Final answer?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck you know you want him and you still do but also talking to him isn’t half bad and maybe you’re just tired of being lonely— 

Musk. Alcohol. Breathing hard, you take it all in. Slowly nodding because you can’t function otherwise, which makes a dragon flash teeth. 

But he obliges without moving a muscle, so you’re left underneath a demon—robe dangerously close to opening and exposing everything once again.

A man of conviction, Yoongi does exactly as you ask. Eyes drooped, he continues his explanations, as if he didn’t just shove you into his enormous bed and tangle you under his legs, 

“They started awhile ago, back when all the high-powers got locked in a grudge match. Took half the city with them.” 

Immediately, your shoulders start to sink into his tale. “Half is a lot.” 

“Everything went to shit,” he agrees. “Not even the Politicol could stop it all.” 

“Bullshit.”

His level expression is enough to refute.  

Now that’s a shock to learn. For as long as you can remember, the Politicol have always held more power than any force should ever have. If they weren’t able to keep this under control, the high-powers used to be ungodly. 

Staring at the slippage on Yoongi’s shoulder, you wonder if those ink lines are to immortalize the ones that came before him. The history he must’ve grown up memorizing. 

Still.. Why does he have them all? There’s no way he doesn’t know how disrespectful that is to all three clans. 

But then again. He said he didn’t choose them himself. Which leads you nowhere in this unending maze. 

Head disheveled; robe coming undone. To outsiders, you’d be at Yoongi’s mercy. 

But in reality, you’re laser focused on him and his explanations. Especially when his voice scratches every itch just right. “So…” You watch his gaze slowly slide down your face. “What happened?”

Even now, Yoongi’s hands stay exactly where they are. The only thing that moves is the tinkling swing of his silver above your warming neck. “Deals were made, stripping power from all of them in certain sectors so that none could completely take over.” 

“Why only in certain ones?” 

A corner of his mouth quirks up. “Let’s just say the negotiations went how you think they did.” 

Your eyes roll yet again. But another question pings into your mind as quick as the first one, knitting your brows. “Wait… Deals with the Politicol? Or each other? No way they would’ve let cowards put them all on a leash.” 

At this, something interesting passes over Yoongi’s face.

But it flits away before you can snatch it for further inspection, and the shift of his leg against your thighs resets your brain. 

“Any of the clans could’ve monopolized if they had the right resource, but. They weren’t ever gonna let outsiders get a piece. Called a truce and kept their mouths shut.” 

Makes sense. You know exactly what resource he’s referring to. “The il-don.” 

“That’s part of it.” He shifts again, but this time, your legs have more room to move. “But grey zones have priority infrastructure. The ones that keep the lights on. If you had the money, you had the people. And people are the best resource there is.” 

It’s at this moment that a lot of things click into place. 

And one of those is figuring out that you may have been a little wrong about the man above you. 

Is he heartless? To a high degree. But that comes with being calculating. Patient. Smart. Everything that Yoongi has been this entire time you’ve tagged along. 

He’s not keeping the il-don safe because he treasures it. It’s because the money is a tool. A tool to help him get what he wants whenever he needs. And leverage it for value instead of frivolous decisions and material things. 

Yoongi must have really, really enjoyed your tangerines.

A stray touch finally makes its way inside your thigh. And you flare between your legs. Shivering. Aching. You’re sparkling inside but won’t allow yourself to fully explode. Not when he’s revealing so much without telling. Not when you’re starting to see things from his angle. 

“Keep talking,” you rush out, gripping his robe and squeezing his pelvis. 

Though his fingers still light flares on your skin, Yoongi stops in his daring quest, observing your face without judgment. 

“I like it,” you shakily admit. Because screw it, since you’ll never see him again. “Learning about all this.” 

You sigh at his weight. His beautiful, strangely calming weight. “About you, too.” 

Stopping all movements, Yoongi coats your skin with gravel. “What good will knowing all this do.” 

He’s got a point. And it hammers home exactly what you were just thinking. “Nothing, maybe,” you answer, squeezing his robe a little longer. 

Fuck, you really are this deprived. This lonely. Is bedding a dangerous man—this dangerous man—really better than being alone right now? A mental reset is outstandingly in order throughout the coming abysmal months.

You finish your weak explanation, hoping it’s enough to convince him, 

“But it’s helping.” 

Yoongi lifts his head to watch your eyes. And you observe how dark his are in return. How cold. 

But yet.. Why do you also see…?

With a slight huff, you tack on, “And you aren’t so annoying to talk to right now.” 

There it is. That spark you’ve seen before in dusty, tinkering streets. “Don’t push your luck.” 

“I might.” 

He exhales, shifting himself into a sitting position and facing the door. “The thing about grey zones.. No affiliation, no rules. You can be anyone here.” 

When you lift your upper body to sit, you watch his side profile as you repeat, “Anyone?” 

Yoongi turns to look at your lips. 

You know there’s a question you want to ask. But for some reason, it’s difficult to say. 

But eventually, you can’t help it. Because you’re intrigued. You’re haunted. And you really, really need this. 

“Then who do you want me to be.”

He lets out a cross between a scoff and a laugh. Looking into your eyes, he asks in disbelief, “You?”

“I’m pretty good at pretending.” 

“Sure you are.” He gives you another small grin before resting forearms on his knees. “But you don’t want my answer to that.” 

Swallowing is proving too difficult. What the hell does he mean by that? Is it one big bluff or a real opinion? “You’re just being a pussy.” 

All you get is the side of his cheek rising high.

Yeah. He’s not gonna tell you a damn thing. 

“Forget about me then. Who are you right now?” You wait as his expression falls back to earth. “Agust? Or Yoongi?” 

When you end with silence, you’re met with an approaching shadowed visage. And even in this moment, you sense static in the air, both of you poised and locked in a dangerous, thrilling dance. 

“You tell me.” 

Your breath cuts as he slips a finger inside your robe, and you dare not breathe when he pulls—slow, unhurried, intoxicating. 

You’ve never felt quite like this. 

Are you supposed to do something, too? Is there something that usually happens here? Your experience isn’t zero but it is clearly leagues below where it should be. 

Before you can blink a third time, your garment is ever, ever so slightly off your shoulder.

And you haven’t uttered a damn thing.

So he keeps going, sliding it lower, and lower, until he reveals a part of you that you didn’t mean to reveal so suddenly before. 

This time, it’s deliberate. And that makes it terrifying. 

This is the point of no return. The slope of your chest barely keeps your robe from dipping any farther. It’s happening, and life between you will never be the same when it’s over. 

And yet. 

Your nerves speak up at the worst time.

“Get me a drink,” you whisper, “Then maybe I will.”

Yoongi flicks up an eyebrow before obliging, and you silently mourn the loss of his heated touch. 

He walks over to pour you something neat, taking his time bringing both glasses to the bed. When you sit up properly, you habitually adjust your robe, scoffing at his hum. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, taking the glass and smelling the piercing aroma. “Maybe this is what I needed all along.”

“You ever had sex before?”

The question is so sudden and blunt that you cough up a burning sip. “Ow, fuck..” Wincing, you wipe your mouth before breathing in scratchy inhales. “If you must know, I have.”

“Maybe you are good at pretending then,” Yoongi drawls. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Don’t get me wrong. This situation is new to me.”

His brow raises are definitely talking a lot for him. 

“I’ve just never.. I dunno. Never had just one night.” Taking a more cautious sip, you continue. “Much less with someone like you.”

“Like me?”

“With a.. You know.” You fiddle with your glass. “A customer.” 

When you hear his reaction, you stare at his raised cheek, stomach fluttering when he sighs downward,

“You can’t just say shit like that.” 

“I can say whatever I want,” you counter. “Especially since I…”

You don’t wanna finish that. It helps that Yoongi doesn’t look your way still, taking a sip of his whisky instead. His locks swing forward as he leans, and you almost reach out to feel them. Maybe you’ll get to very soon. When you finally get over this final hurdle of outright shyness. 

Why are you so timid right now? Why can’t you just tell him what you very obviously came in here for and get on with it? You’ve been decisive as fuck the rest of today, so what’s got your tongue pressed this time? Is it really your abysmal level of experience?

Or is it because you’re gravitating to more sides of him with each passing second? 

“Since you what.” 

“Since I don’t like you,” you snip. 

Yoongi flashes teeth in amusement. “Keep telling yourself that.” 

“Oh, shut up.” You take another drink, feeling the burn down your throat. “I don’t have to if it’s true.” 

Both of you keep drinking in silence after that. Which makes things a weird mix of calm and awkward, considering what your original mission was. 

Going over the events of today, it’s a wonder why you aren’t crashing into a dreamless sleep. You’ve been up and having the most exhausting day ever, and yet, you can’t imagine shutting your eyes. 

Think of something else to talk about. Anything. Any topic you could possibly hold a conversation with Yoongi over. 

What did he respond to before? No small talk, since the plantains thing from months ago was a bust. And when you conversed over ramyeon it was more of him angering you on purpose—wait a minute. 

There was something you never circled back to. 

And as soon as you ask him about it, he appears impressed you remembered, 

“Were you bluffing when you said you knew what I was shopping for?” 

“No,” he responds immediately. “And I know I’m right.” 

“Prove it.” 

Mouth curved at an annoying angle, Yoongi shoots you a look before placing his drink down, getting up to walk to a tall armoire. 

Your eyes follow his every movement, even the way his ass moves under that damned robe. But soon, your jaw goes slack not because of his assets. 

But because the motherfucker was right on the money. 

How the… How the fuck did Yoongi know? 

In front of your face lies exactly what you were searching for. Sleek. Minimal. Lightweight and visibly balanced. You don’t even want to keep shopping around because this is the only one you want. 

How did he know you were shopping for daggers based on one single line of questioning? 

“I wasn’t gonna show you until you asked,” he divulges. “Honestly, I was hoping you’d forget. This one was hard as fuck to track down.” 

Eyes flicking up to his, you ask in wonder, “Can I…?” 

He lifts it slightly, signaling that you can indeed hold it yourself. 

And it’s perfect. 

“Wow,” you breathe out, feeling along its edges and hilt. It’s all one continuous line, with metal so black and matted that you almost moan. “I don’t have much on me, but.. I’ll give you whatever you want for this.” 

“Keep it.” 

What? 

“It’s yours.” 

There’s no way he’s just gonna gift this to you. It’s perfectly crafted in material you can’t even find in Crane. And they have almost every class of ore in existence. 

Who even is this man? 

“Yoongi, this is…” You shake your head while extending it back. “I can’t just take this.” 

“You can.” He fiddles with the bracelet on his wrist. “I did.”

Oh. Charming. The weapon you’re being gifted is stolen goods. “Well, in that case, I really can’t accept it.” 

But goddamn, this is more than perfect. You can’t even pluck one finger off the handle. And you can’t change the fact that it was already taken, right? Right?

“At least…” Scowling at your own crumbling morals, you mumble, “Not without good reason.”  

He looks at you over his shoulder. “Do I need a reason?” 

“No,” you reply. “But I’d like one.” 

Yoongi sighs long before moving his fingers. “I lied to you back there in the lobby.” Looking up at a clock instead of you, he works his jaw. “But this time, it really is just that.” 

“You expect me to believe you?” 

Fuck, the veins in his hands are so prominent when he laces them together. “No. But it’s better than those chopsticks you’re saving in the bathroom.”

Oh. So he saw those, too.

“Thank you,” is what you wave in white. Because that’s exactly how you feel and this one gesture does excuse some of his faults. Maybe. Or your standards have plummeted to the gutters. “I, umm. I usually keep one for self-defence. Just in case.” 

Turning it over and back again, you marvel at its light but solid weight. “But I lost mine in the last rough raid before they suddenly stopped.”

“Don’t sweat it.” 

“K.” Placing it on the closest nightstand, you go back to holding your glass between your hands. “One day I’ll pay you back somehow.” 

Yoongi shoots that down on sight. “No need.” 

“But I want to.” 

He glares before picking up his alcohol. “Anyone that owes me shit gets treated a lot different.” The drink rests in his hand like a liquid gem. “So just accept it as a gift, doll.” 

You’d laugh if you knew he was kidding. But you know he’s dead serious, so you only nod. 

It’s quiet again as you both retreat into your minds. 

Yoongi has the mental fortitude of a fortress it seems. Because he really is set on waiting until you tell him what you woke him up for, and it’s been awhile since this all started. 

But being in his presence while the night is quiet is somewhat comforting. You’re finding it easy to think about other things now, especially after he gave you so much to mull over. 

Like grey zones and how they came to be. It’s fascinating how you had no clue even though you should. Even though this whole conflict affected half the city. 

Wanting to gain more insight, you blurt your curiosity, “How long ago were the grey zones fought over? Before everything was decided?” 

“Years. Decades, at this point,” Yoongi answers, his gaze locked as you think about this timeline. “Most people don’t even bother knowing, though.”

“Why? This sounds like a big part of our history.” 

“No one cares if a Crane kills a Dragon.” His tone shifts slightly. And you wouldn’t have caught it if not for his subtle sulk. “They only resent the blood they have to wipe from the street.” 

Your lids lower all the same. Because that resonates deep within your chest, so much so that you feel your heart bend in its aching. “No one cares about us, either.” 

When Yoongi catches your look, you give a sad excuse of a smile. “Being a vendor? Especially where I am? You quickly figure out how little you matter. You as a person, I mean.” 

You slide fingers along the tiny rim of your glass, lost in the fibers of his rug more than anything else. 

Maybe you’re just a loose fiber in the rug of this city. One that will pretend to run only to be swept back into the folds. “The only things that people remember are what you offer. Anything other than that isn’t worth their time.” 

Lifting your chin, you save face. “Can’t say I won’t miss you.” May as well admit it all if you aren’t ever gonna see him again. “You were the only one that ever let me bother them.” 

“You never bothered me.” 

You look up to see him staring. Lip curled upward, you huff. “With all the looks you gave me? I find that hard to believe.” 

Yoongi doesn’t laugh in return. “What would I gain from lying?” 

Mm. That’s an interesting question. But the alcohol starts to talk for you as you have the balls to flirt. “People lie to get laid, for one.” 

“Mm.” He takes a measured sip of his glass, the last dredges of it swaying at the bottom. “Can’t say I’ve ever needed to.” 

“Shocker,” you drawl, sipping to match his pace. And it’s after this drink that you loosely admit, “This is really good, by the way.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” Lifting the glass to peer inside, you swirl it around before divulging a past you don’t talk about—ever. But what are rules of conversation when you want to stall? “My uncle got me into whisky a long time ago. But fruit stands don’t pay for top shelf alcohol.” 

“Where’s he at now?” 

“Uhh.” You look away. “Gone.” 

“Sorry to hear that.” 

He gets up, and you watch in silence as he makes his way to the sideboard. Stuff shifts around before he appears to pour another glass. And he stays there for a bit, black robe blending into all the dark decor. 

“Yoongi?” 

He turns. 

“Can you keep talking?” You keep your drink steady between your robed legs. Buzzed and vulnerable, you offer an explanation, “Turns out there’s a lot I wanna forget right now.”

Like endings. And future endless days without your most frustrating, most dangerous, most favorite customer. 

Yoongi pauses before walking back to the bed. When his thighs settle next to yours, he asks without much heart, “What do you wanna know.”

“You.”

His jaw shifts, and you feel a slight tug in your chest. 

Was that too forward? Probably. But you’ll take what you can get, like a last meal chosen to hit every one of your desires. “Anything you wanna tell me, of course.”

Yoongi remains quiet. Which isn’t unexpected but still a little letdown. 

“Not much to tell.” 

Ah. Just more lies then. Maybe you should stick to the original plan. “Nothing at all?”

He looks at you, planting a hand on the bed to lean a little closer. “Nothing you’d wanna hear.”

You shift between his eyes. Wondering if it’s better not knowing or if you really do wanna give in. 

Perhaps his eyes will speak for him instead. Glowing dark. Hints of ember and smoke. Years and years squeezed into those irises. 

“What if I do,” you quietly question, catching the light on his alcohol-tainted lips. 

Reaching out, you boldly place a thumb over one side, slowly brushing off excess liquid and marveling at how soft he is there. Tender, just like his name. “What if I don’t care.”

Yoongi waits for a moment before holding your wrist, the atmosphere trembling and buzzing around your shoulders. Oxygen depletes as he leans in close, his beautiful features almost touching yours. 

You feel something locking into place. Something beautiful and terrifying. And it holds you down as you feel his hair, his warmth, his—

A noise blares into the room before you can feel yourself rushing upward, your body reacting on survival instinct alone. Glasses spill onto the rug and you don’t know what’s happening but lack of sleep lack of comfort lack of everything has you ready for—

Time stops. 

Sounds muffle. 

And your eyes flash wide as you see the tip of your blade pointed straight at Yoongi’s side. 

Just as he’s poised with a gun pointed towards the door. 

It’s a phone ringing. 

A fucking. Telephone. 

What have you done?

As Yoongi slowly shifts his gaze to your outstretched hand, you tremble in severe regret. Regret that you pulled this on him with the very weapon he gave you. Regret that he knows all there is to know about how you still feel about him. 

But you didn’t mean to… You didn’t even think. And you abhor how you directed your fear at the one person that kept you alive. The one person you fucking saved. 

When Yoongi lowers his gun, he doesn’t acknowledge the guilt on your face. But as he walks away to grab his device, his gaze flicks back to you before he answers across the room. 

Shit. 

You fucked up you fucked up you fucked up. 

You weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t care. You really weren’t. But who knows what Yoongi will think of you after that shock of a face off. 

Coming into his room was most definitely a mistake. Now you can’t wrangle your emotions for shit, head pounding with feelings and outcomes and adrenaline to the brim. 

Yoongi’s close to the wide bathroom stairs, so you can’t hear what’s being said. He does keep looking at you, though, which keeps your fingers pressed against a hilt. 

Are you in danger? Will Yoongi not want anything to do with you anymore? Is it alarming that you can’t decide which one is worse? 

The call doesn’t last long.

And as soon as he hangs up, you’re sputtering like a broken fountain, dagger still wielded as he stalks forward—phone clunking to the ground. “Who was that.” 

“No one.”

“What’s gonna happen to me.” 

“Nothing.” 

Fuck. You really did fuck everything up. Your brain is so battered that you’re gonna be skittish and paranoid for a long, long time. “Yoongi, I’m so—I didn’t mean to—It just happened—”

Forget it. It’s over. Your last interaction will haunt you forever and the only way you’ll experience what could’ve happened between you will be in your wildest darkest sweetest illest—

Burns flare at your eyes when Yoongi’s chest meets the quivering tip of your blade. 

“Stop,” you wince out, a damning tear pinging to your feet. “Just stop.” 

He starts to walk forward, which alarms you enough to step back because what the fuck is he doing! Why can’t your arms move? Why can’t you lower the fucking dagger? 

“I can’t,” you croak. “I can’t move.”

You’ve been firing on all fronts the whole day. Even in your dreams, you’re in survival mode. You can’t unlock your arms because they fight for the rest of you. Your legs propel you when the rest of you wants to give up. 

But that still doesn’t stop your heart from aching. It burns, it burns, it burns. 

When Yoongi grips your wrist, you choke on a sob. When he calls you smart, you squeeze your eyes shut in shame. And when he whispers to drop the fucking blade or he’ll do it for you, you do so after a maddening pause. 

It clunks to the ground when a gun does, and you’re suddenly spun until the backs of your knees hit something solid. 

Immediately, you’re thrust back onto dark sheets again, tears now rolling into your ears as you instinctively let Yoongi smother you whole. 

His hand slides to your inner thigh, and your mind reels when you start feeling a hardness on your stomach. Breath whooshes out of your mouth before you're covered in silk and muscle, and pleasure bursts from where he quickly devours your neck fuck.

Hands are quick to untie your robe as fire stokes your throat. 

“I won’t ask again,” he vows with a voice that rumbles. “Tell me what you fuckin’ want.” 

“Yoongi—” 

“Say it and it’s yours.” 

“Make me forget,” you shove through your teeth. “Just make me fucking forget.” 

“How.” 

Fuck lack of experience. Fuck being shy. You aren’t wasting another damn second and your emotions need all the release they can get. Loose lips, loose tongue, looser inhibitions.

The monster inside of you yanks at its chain, claws and claws at its confines screaming at you to give in. You need this. You want this, especially if Yoongi himself is gonna give it so willingly.

Just say it. Just say it.

“If this really is the last time I’ll see you…” 

Yoongi stills as your eyes lock unblinking. 

Tell him. Four words. 

“Fuck me like it.”

A proverbial chain snaps as Yoongi dives into your neck, ravishing you and sucking hard on your vein. When you yelp, your clenched legs seem to encourage, and he thrusts forward to launch you up the bed with a purpose. With intention.

All to let you know what you just got yourself into.

His fingers light little fires along your skin, burning everything in their paths up your arms, your sides, squeezing into your imperfections and latching down. His lips set your being ablaze as he keeps feasting, causing your breaths to get shorter, and shorter, and shorter. 

“So sensitive..” 

When you feel the warm swipe of a tongue, your eyes scrunch shut as you shudder. Which makes the whole thing worse for you when Yoongi chuckles dark in return. 

“I don’t think you’re ready for this.” 

“Shut up,” you huff out, grasping for his robe and raking at his sleeves. “Of course I am—Fuck.”

His thumb rolls across your exposed nipple, pinching it to make you arch right up into his chest. “You sure?” 

When the hell did he even open your robe? How did he do that so quick without you knowing? 

You bite down on your lip to keep from screaming, nodding in determination while your brows almost kiss. 

Watching your expression, Yoongi pinches again, biting his own lip while slowly spreading that shit grin. Your moan comes out more like a muted hum, which seems to displease. 

“Uh uh,” he orders. “You’re gonna be loud for me.”  

“But what if someone—” 

“They won’t.” 

He continues in his control, sliding a hand under your thigh to hitch it up before shoving it to the side. 

And you know where he’s going. But it still shocks you all the same when his fingers make contact with your slick. 

Your very, very wet slick. 

Many, many things will haunt you for life. Your experiences. Your choices. 

But right now? The only thing that will follow you to your grave is this distinct, biting, staccato batch of laughter. “You shouldn’t’ve ever come in here.” 

Breath ragged, you watch as Yoongi concentrates, exploring your cunt with his long digits and hitting every nerve with perfection. When you rub against him, he growls, lifting shiny fingers to insert right into his mouth. 

Sucking. 

Licking. 

And your eyes mirror his at once—as black and pulsing as fallen stars. 

He swoops down at the same moment you tug on his clothing, his mouth latching onto the side of your neck he hasn’t ravaged. Impatient, his hand yanks the bottom of your robe to the side, fully exposing your legs and leaking folds while you grapple with your own obstacles. 

It’s messy. It’s jilted. It’s exactly what you want. 

As soon as you find the slit in his robe, you take a brave leap and reach for his cock, not knowing what you’re gonna find but having a vague idea based on his—

Oh. What.

Fuck, he’s gonna split you in two. 

You’ve held one before. You know what they feel like. But this cannot be possible and you’re already mentally preparing yourself for your breaking point. 

“You good?” 

You snap your head right up, realizing how stunned you must be if he’s asking. “I… You’re fucking huge.” 

Yoongi doesn’t react, but that somehow makes it more attractive. Like he knows. And he doesn’t deny a thing. “That a problem?” 

“I mean… I think I’ve lived a good enough life.” 

To your surprise, the man above breaks completely as you keep blabbering, shoulders shaking alongside those stupid dimples. Those beautiful, elusive dimples. Too bad this is the last time you’ll ever see them. “Did what I wanted.. Not everything, but most of my list.” 

Yoongi’s still chuckling. And for a brief moment, you’re brought back to the days he was just a patron. Back to when you would think about him before bed, delighted to see him stop by. 

This is him. This is Yoongi with you now. 

Where was he this whole time? Was he really waiting until you answered him for real? 

You went so far into your head that you missed the change in position. So it makes you jump like hell when you realize where his teal mop of hair resides. “Wait, wait, wait. What are you doing?” 

Between your thighs, Yoongi lifts a brow, locking your legs with tough arms before you can even move. 

“Yoongi, you don’t have to—oh, fuck!” 

The first contact of his tongue on your folds makes your eyes burst, your legs effectively being pinned down in their tensing. Jolts of lust spiral from your core as he licks, sucks, twirls around your clit like it’s second nature, and you feel yourself welcoming his every thrust.

This is happening. This is happening? You’ve never done this before, not that you’ll admit it. Whatever Yoongi’s doing is completely new territory for you and you don’t ever think you’ll leave. Permanent residence. No other land to discover. 

Whines echoes throughout the room before you slap a hand over your mouth. Because the whole world will hear his name if you don’t. Especially when he adds fingers and curls them just right what the fuck! 

He makes you forget. And forget. And forget. You even forget your own name. Only his. Saying it into your palm over and over and clawing his sheets with the other. 

A low growl rumbles between your legs before you hear him purr, “Just like I fucking thought.” 

What’d he say? He didn’t say that. You’re hearing things, you’re sure of it. There’s absolutely no way Yoongi’s imagined anything about you, much less what you taste like. 

And the words keep coming as he whispers how tight you feel. How hot. How perfect you’re gonna fit him. 

While all you can utter in return is gibberish mixed with the syllables of his name. 

Pleasure rolls in waves as he learns every inch of your cunt, fingers drenched in your slick and the curves of his cheeks lathered in your scent. When he reaches beneath you to grope your ass, he gives a rough squeeze. 

“Move your fucking hand.” 

Your eyes fling wide. 

“I wanna hear you.” 

“No, I’m—there could be people—”

He clambers over you, robe wide open and revealing a body that rips your soul clean out. When he seizes your palm to shove it to the side, another monster starts to wake within your chest. 

And this one takes treacherous pleasure in those slitted eyes. 

“You’re gonna scream for me.” 

“Or else what.” 

The dark rumble. The rolling thunder. 

Your other monster is starting to match his glint. “You don’t wanna do that with me, doll.” 

“Do what?” you ask with flitting eyes. 

When all you get is a sharp smirk in return, your stomach flips in desire and excitement. So when he slaps the side of your breast, you hum high with a delighted flinch.

“Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.” 

Yes. This is what you came in here for. Your shyness will have to be comfortable with the unknown, but it’s also helping seeing Yoongi much more relaxed. 

Like a normal person. 

Especially when he leans over to open his bedside drawer, hair swaying as he grabs for what you think are condoms. 

Your hunch is right when he rights himself again, teeth nicking a wrapper before tearing it in one sweep. When you start to clench your legs together in response, he shoves them back open with a thigh, robe parting to show exactly what’s going to splice you in half. 

You’ll gladly take his amusement at your jaw unhinging. Because what you see is heaven sent. 

Yoongi says nothing as he wraps himself fully, and he continues to be silent as you whisper, 

“I wanna see you.” 

It doesn’t take long for him to understand. As his length presses against your core, he slips off his dark robe, letting it slide down equally dark sheets before pouring onto the floor. 

You’re just as quiet as he situates himself above your beating heart. Which is for the best. Your thoughts are better left unsaid. 

All you can do is grip his arm, sliding your hand up until you can finally, finally brush his hair with your own fingers. Exhaling when you discover how soft it feels. How comfort can be found in something as trivial as tendrils.

“This is helping, too,” you murmur to his lips, inhaling what you realize is your own scent. 

When he cradles your chin, your breath cuts. “Things happen when you say what you want.” 

“If only it was always that easy.”

“It is with me.” 

Your heart skips twice before tripping on itself, and you instinctively curl your palm against his head. “Everyone around you must be so lucky.” 

An eyebrow lifts before he huffs. “Not talking about just anyone, love.” 

…Huh? 

What does he mean by that because shit you’re getting tugged forward he’s so strong—

“Now, if you’re gonna be difficult,” Yoongi warns. “Let’s give you enough time to reconsider.” 

Your thighs widen as he positions himself at your entrance, cockhead rubbing along your folds as you tense. 

“Uh uh.” He hums. “This is what you want, yeah?”

“It’s been awhile,” you spat, rolling your eyes when he shoots you a knowing look. “Just… give me a second.” 

Obliging, Yoongi starts slow, making your head roll into the pillow as you accommodate his girth. Holy fuck, he’s big. But he’s sliding in easy after his little feast down there, which you piece together as one big prep for the main course. 

“Fuck,” he groans, resisting every urge to plow straight into you. At least, from what you can decipher in his pinched features. If this feels amazing for you, you can’t even imagine what he must be feeling now. It only gives you butterflies knowing he’s following through with his word. “So fucking tight.” 

“Not my fault you take up… so much space,” you grit through your teeth, neck straining as you blow air to the ceiling. 

Fully sheathed, Yoongi rests inside until your muscles relax. And you only peel your eyes open when you start to slip into more pleasure than anything else. 

Okay. You can do this. You can fit him surprisingly well—maybe too well—and you’re okay to keep going without restraint. 

When you peer down your body, you expect him to look bored or indifferent. Like he’s wasting time dealing with you. 

So it makes you shiver when Yoongi looks ready to ruin. 

Toned arms flex at his sides, hands keeping your thighs held in their place. When a strand of vibrant hair falls, his chains spark in the moonlight streaming in from the windows. A dragon that waits. And waits.

You’re ready. Your demise will be your reward. 

“I’m good,” you assure him. “You can move now—”

A second invisible chain snaps with a clink, and Yoongi launches into a thrust that has you seeing stars. You tumble through the dark as he thrusts again, mouth open with silent yells before you gnaw right into your lip. 

“Relax for me,” he commands. “Just like that.” 

Your cunt hugs him tight as you bounce even harder, his little grunts of praise making you mewl and whimper in bursts. 

Fucking hell, this feels good. 

You cannot wait to find out how it’ll feel when you piss him off. 

His hands grip your hips, hosting you up onto his thighs as he thrusts hard into your cunt. Your body rocks in an arch, limp and at his mercy—which there is very little of. Enchanted, your  lip tightens with the pull of your teeth, eyes squeezing shut as he feels so fucking good and hitting. Just. Right. 

It all carries you so far gone that as soon as you feel a rush of air, the sting on your ass makes you react—piercing moan making both of you freeze.

And Yoongi’s eyes deepen a shade as he slowly grins. “There you go.” 

“Don’t act like you—fuck!” His second swat has you grunting through your teeth, and his thrust forward at the same time he does it again has you whining. Monosyllabic, his name shoves out of your lungs, with each part more chipped than the next. 

“What’s that, love?”

“Yoongi, please—”

“That’s right.” He clutches your sides so damn rough. “Say my fuckin’ name.” 

And his pace pitches you into the sun, rocking so hard you won’t be surprised if the bed frame snaps in half. In thirds. In sevenths. Your legs go completely limp as he drives in, filling you and hitting a spot that pierces your eyes with stars and light and lust. Down down down you spiral, up up up you go. It’s only you and him now, with Yoongi plowing into you like his life ends come morning. 

There’s nothing in the world that feels like this. Burdened by the dangerous weight of a man—this man—while feeling so light you could float? Absolutely nothing can compare. 

Your body finally rests as he stops, but you get no breather as he flips you over with strong arms. Disoriented, you squeak as he tugs you backward, your ass rising in the air as your head is shoved into luxury cotton. 

Sweet pain sears your ass again, and you gasp with wide eyes as you feel his cock at your entrance. “What are you—”

“Lift up. Higher.” He slides his dick up your folds. “You’re gonna like this.” 

“You don’t speak for me—”

He thrusts into you as soon as you get accustomed to his length and size. And the place his thumb presses makes you scream into your pillow. His pillow. A hotel suite pillow that you’re biting to stay afloat. 

How the fuck does that feel so good? How does all of this feel so good? His thumb on your asshole already has you melting, but the smacking of his sack against your clit makes you want to repent.

“So fucking—fuck.”

Drool strings from your mouth as your arms are tugged at the elbows, your whole upper body coming up for air. Precious precious air that’s cut off when Yoongi chokes you from behind.

“Yoo—!”

His strength slams your chest into the headboard, right at the edge of the bed before you feel the force of his palm hit the wall. 

“What did I fucking say.”

“A lot.”

“I’m gonna hear you.”

“But—”

He shoves you flush against dark wood, your cheek smushing hard and your lips curling. “Let them hear you, too.” 

You keep your moans muted until fingers are shoved down your throat. And you gargle until he yanks them out. 

“That’s it. I know you can take it.”

“You’re easier…” Gritting your teeth in a smug grin, you taunt in a bold-faced lie, “Easier to take than I thought.”  

His laughter is not lighthearted. “You’re still gonna go there, huh.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you pout, eyes drooping from the euphoric shocks his thrusts provide. Sweat rolls down your arms as you slip on the wall, but it gives your chest a cool surface to rest. “Go where?” 

Suddenly, the grinding stops. And your cunt feels abandoned as he pulls out so fast. When you think to spin around, he spanks your ass with a harsh, “Don’t move.” 

Do you want to disobey? Yes. But you’re more curious than anything, so do as he says.

And your eyes light up when you realize what he comes back with. 

“Now… I could use this,,” he warns, pressing a silky smooth robe tie along your neck. “Since you don’t wanna behave.”

“Do it,” you taunt, wishing like hell that he does. Yes, yes, yes. You’re drunk on lust and volcanic want and you will fight for nothing more. “You won’t.” 

Your neck is rocked back before you feel him slap your ass. “Then stay still.” 

And you obey as you feel your belt—or his, either one—wrap loosely around your column before it’s tied. 

Gently, your chin is turned, and you’re surprised when you’re met with stern eyes. “Can you breathe.” 

Blinking, you nod. “Yeah, I can.” 

“Two taps if you’re out, understand?” 

“Yes.” 

A swift pat to your cheek. “What’d I say.” 

“Two taps,” you repeat, figuring out fast that you’re liking this development a little too much. “If I’m out.” 

Holy fuck the yank you feel is exhilarating, your body bending back as shock overcomes your senses. 

Lidded eyes staring down at yours, he vows, “You better make them count or we never do this again.” 

“I will, I will,” you rasp out, breath still coming to you fine albeit a little more harshly. “I promise.” 

“Good girl.”  

Wait, did he say again? 

As he slips right back inside, you lose all passing trains of thought. Cunt filled while his fingers clog your mouth makes you traverse to another plane. Every part of you, at his mercy—

Then he yanks you backward and all that mercy burns in the flames of heaven. Flocks to the clouds of hell.

The belt is completely taut as you succumb to his thrusts. Hard. Fast. Rough thrusts make you cry out as he toys with you, gravelly hums tumbling down your back as you arch for him. All the sounds you make echo throughout the room, a symphony of mewls and moans as Yoongi controls your every move. 

“Take it.”

“Hmm?”

“You want it,” he repeats. “So take it.”

Oh. Oh, he wants you to—Oh.

You start moving back and forth, doing exactly as he says. Taking what’s yours for the night and shamefully not forever.

But it turns out it’s not enough because he tugs. 

“Like you fucking mean it.”

Fuck.

Groaning, you move with more intention, sliding up and down his cock and feeling full every time. It feels good having control, you muse, and imagining him watching your debauchery turns you on that much more.

Your thrusts turn to rough slams, friction running fast while you chase it with all your strength. The groans you hear sound primal, hissed taunts egging you on.

“Guess you can listen after all.” 

“Fuck you.”

Another hard yank. 

Your laugh only spurns him on. 

Slaps to your ass, grabs to your breasts. Yoongi is worshipping every inch of you and you won’t even notice this until nights later when you’re alone. You’ll remember the way he squeezes just right, the way he fits so well, the places he hits with no hesitation nor guesswork. It’s pure experience strangling you with passion and you don’t even know how to embrace it all.

But then you start to feel it. Your breath tapering. It’s getting harder and harder to suck in air and you’re starting to see stars across your eyes. 

When you reach an alarming point, you quickly slap his leg twice, oxygen gushing into your lungs right as he lets go. 

You almost come on that exhilaration alone. Adrenaline pumps pumps pumps into your veins, eyes blowing black as he spins you around.

Hot, open mouth kisses pepper your burning throat, and you have the nerve to catapult him all the way back onto the bed. 

Yoongi lets you top him with a laugh, and you immediately use this opportunity to pin him down with a chokehold. Wanting him to feel the same way you just did. Knowing deep in your soul that he wants it, too.

“Cute.”

“You asshole.” 

Holy fuck, you can’t even recognize your own voice. It’s hoarse. It’s rugged. 

It’s salacious.

He cocks a brow while peering down his nose. “You done?”

“What?” You blink. Slowly releasing his neck, you admit with a rasp, “No, that’s not what I.. I’m not done with you.” 

Yoongi slides into a smirk, and you attempt to scoff with a burning throat. 

You wanna tell him how good he is. How stupidly attentive he is. But all you settle for is something neutral. Safe. And maybe a little forward. 

“Just felt like calling you that.” 

Yoongi’s smile mellows into a line, and if you weren’t in such an evocative position, you would have thought it was genuine contemplation. But he slides hands up your thighs before slapping the side of your ass. “Get on.” 

Fuck. You don’t really know how. At least, you don’t know how to do it without showing him you aren’t used to it. 

So the confidence will keep getting faked. With a little help of your quick wit and tongue as you grab his length. “Didn’t hear a please.” 

Yoongi huffs out amusement. “I don’t say that.” 

His tip goes in fine. Fuck. Okay. You can do this you can do this. “Why am I not surprised—!” 

He shoves you down as soon as you give him enough leeway, and you groan out as you catch yourself with hands on his chest. 

“This is where you’re gonna live,” he says with confidence, laughing in condescension when you scowl. “Fuckin’ love it.” 

He can’t say stuff like that. 

You ride until you find a rhythm, rolling your body and finding the friction you want. It’s there for the taking. And he’s encouraging you with gravelly words and hums, with hands up your stomach and grasping your chest. 

After a single swirl of your hips, he throws his bed back until his neck strains. “Fuck.”

So you take that cue, rotating between rides and swirls. When he tweaks and rolls thumbs around your nipples, you clench hard around him, and he does it until you moan to the ceiling. 

A slap to your breast makes you whine, and you keep going before leaning forward, placing hands against his shoulders and bouncing your hips on his cock. 

“—a fucking natural,” Yoongi praises, chuckling to himself as he toys with the silk streaming down your neck. 

“Maybe I’ve just practiced.” 

“Show me more then.” 

Quickly, he tugs you down flush against him before grabbing your ass, slamming you down and pistoning up until you scream.

You start biting his shoulder to quell your shouts, which makes him moan loud enough to make you possessive. Wildly possessive. Before long, you feel yourself going limp on him, only for him, solely for his pleasure and yours. 

“Just like that. There you go.” 

You mewl into his skin as he grabs you, holding you down as he slams into you again and again and again. Drunk with power, you begin to mark his throat, devouring and feasting with reckless abandon.

Growling ragged, Yoongi flips your position and pins you face down, shoving up hard into your cunt before plowing. You fully lean into the yells now, saying his name and inching over the goddamn edge of the bed.

It’s there. Your release. It’s potent and it’s visceral and it’s everything you need need need—

“Yoongi, I’m close—”

He penetrates so far that you can taste him, and you come so harshly that you convulse. Squeezing like hell and quivering in a full body fold.

Holy shit, the screams. Is that you? 

The sinister laughs of pride prove you right. “That’s my girl. Fucking scream.”

You can’t stop. All you know is extreme pleasure coursing through your veins, pulsing beautiful colors and making you arch like mad. 

But you have more to handle. Yoongi prolongs your euphoria by yanking you back only to sink into you again, hands rubbing both nipples and tongue speaking deadly sins in your ear.

“You aren’t done,” he growls. “Lemme hear you again.” 

“I can’t—”

“Liar.”

His name rips from your mouth as you surprise yourself, gushing around his length and squeezing in powerful pulses. Nothing exists. Nothing at all. Everything you know is a feeling, as vibrant and shimmering as the sun above your street back home. 

All the heat you’ve ever felt coalesces along your skin, and the words whispered in your ear slide right down with your sweat. You aren’t quite sure what you hear. But judging by your preening, it has to be praise. Dirty, dirty, sinful praise. 

When your limp weight is flipped, you allow your legs to be hoisted up with no resistance. Looking upward, you peel open lids to the equivalent of a king. A god. And your outright awe blocks your ears from catching what your dragon swears. 

“—perfect,” he grits, inserting himself into your squelching folds. “Again.” 

No fucking way you have more left in you. You’re already floating in the ether, buzzing in pleasure and sweat and ecstasy. If you come one more time you’ll be an empty shell. 

“Earn it,” you boldly rasp out, grappling a bit of your spirit and reining it back one last time. “Take it, you bi—”

Your heart leaps up your throat as you’re pitched upward, groan serrated and high as you grin in triumph because it feels so fucking rewarding when he gives gives gives. 

Letting everything go relaxes your folds, causing Yoongi to rock into you with pride and without resistance. His chain smacks against his pecs at the same pace as your bouncing chest, and you’re more than sure you’re gonna feel bruises on your legs where he sinks his claws.

Skin slapping skin. Mewls and gritted curses. Heady scent covers them all in a thick layer and you feel the light grow closer and closer, stronger this time than all the others before it. Why? Why do you know this one will pitch you over the edge for good? 

Both of you may feel the same. 

Because Yoongi suddenly shoves himself so far into you and presses his body flush against your shuddering shaking screaming form.

You pulse frantically around him, throat sore and ragged from your final cry as tears stream down your face. It feels so fucking gorgeous that it hurts, and you enter a plane so mystical it’s completely separate from your earthly vessel. The two of you become closer than one, and you feel Yoongi stutter in his groan before yanking out and ripping the condom off.

Hot spurts paint your skin—a sweaty, spent canvas that dips slow with your labored breaths. His own breathing is rough but not exhausted, and you chalk that up to the mountain of stamina and experience he has on you. 

It’s done. 

Thoroughly spent.

All the pent up emotions dissipate in a slow descent. The chaos of today finally lowers its head, your monsters making their ways back into their cages. Moonlight shines brighter. Fuller. 

Illuminating a man in silver as he slowly heads into the bathroom. 

Holy fuck. You just slept with a gangster. With a Dragon.

With Yoongi.

There’s no way you can forget this. No way you can see yourself moving past this moment, even years and lifetimes from now. It doesn’t matter if Yoongi never thinks about you again, because something transpired in this room that you’ll keep locked away in your soul forever. 

As he brings back a towel to wipe his essence from your skin, you wonder. 

Was it all worth it? 

Or will this torture you in every dream you’ll ever have? 

A palm digs into the mattress before you feel weight and jewelry. The silk around your throat is carefully undone, and lazy, heated lips descend on your neck once more.

Bliss.

Sighing, you utter his name much softer now, telling him please without knowing what for. 

“What do you want,” he whispers.

“I don’t know,” you admit in a wisp. 

Yoongi keeps worshipping your throat, and you mewl when he reaches to rub your breast in a slow squeeze. When you drag your hand down to grip his cock, he tenses with a gritty hum. 

“Careful, love,” he rumbles. “There’s a lot more I can do with you.” 

“Tell me.” Your breath starts shorting in anticipation. “Tell me everything.” 

“Nah.” When he slides forward, the bare tip of him meets your cunt, causing you to flinch with a bitten lip. “You’re just gonna have to wonder. Day, after day, after day.”

Fuck this guy with the spite of a thousand lives. You’re the one holding his cock, so how the fuck is he still being this sure of himself? 

“Put it in,” you blurt, earning his gaze of utter confusion. 

“What?” 

“Just for a second.” You stroke him, feeling slick velvet and wetness coating your fingers. “That’s the last thing I want.” 

His eyes search yours, and for the first time tonight, he’s the one that looks hesitant. “You sure…?” 

“We’ll never do this again,” you whisper. “And I know you want it, too.” 

His gaze holds yours for a moment, searching your eyes for any sense of doubt. 

When he finds none, Yoongi positions himself at your entrance, and you feel his knuckles brush your folds before he sinks in. Slowly, cautiously, extraordinarily. 

And both of you groan so full. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi glowers, teeth sharp as he grounds them hard. His arm veins strain, shifting all his ink in pretty ebbs and flows. All his stomach snaps taut, and you can’t look away from his sheer look of concentration and lust. “Fuck.” 

“Feels so good,” you gasp, enjoying the way he’s slowly grinding against your walls. All the slick from your releases allows smooth strokes, and you already feel close for yet another time. An unbelievable amount of orgasm in such a short span. You’ll never reach this peak. Not with anyone else. “What the fuck, I’m close again—”

“Shit—”

It happens in a snap. But more of a mellowed, drawn-out river flow than a full waterfall. Your eyes slowly roll before closing, and your chest arches slow as you rock back and forth on his cock. The squeezes are harder. The pulses are fuller. You’re milking him for all he’s worth, like your cunt won’t let go until it’s pumped him dry. 

Which makes Yoongi lose his absolute mind, hissing as he pulls out quick before spilling onto you all over again. Again? 

Holy fuck, again? 

As he groans up above, his eyes are wiped dark completely. Which makes you wonder how you can still see stars embedded inside. 

Was it all worth it? 

You’ve never been more achingly sure.

It’s a long shot to know if he feels the same. And an even longer one for that to truly be the case. 

But it’s okay. 

This is the first, the last, the only time you have. And it was more than you could’ve ever asked for. 

As he falls into the sheets next to you, both of you exhale harsh, hearts pounding and pounding into the bed and to the ceiling. 

You can’t even move. Every single limb is sore from base to tip, and the door looks so, so far away. 

When you whisper his name, you get a little acknowledgement at your side. Gathering all the strength you have left, you whisper, 

“I know this is when I’d be kicked out, but.. I can’t move.” 

The small puff of air you get in return sounds like a yes. But you aren’t sure until Yoongi verbally gives you a real answer, 

“S’ok.” 

All you can do is hum, noticing with a sharp pang that you feel soft towel wipes before the smooth slide of sheets up your bare skin. 

“Just stay on your side.” 

Ah. 

Well. At least you aren’t alone for a night. 

“And you.. Stay on yours,” you murmur, darkness seeping into your peripherals. 

“Mm.”

Yoongi can be as cold and heartless and calculating as he wants. But you know he’s more than what he shows. 

Because with a second sharp hit to the chest, you also realize the side you’re on is the side he was on before. He’s not gonna make you move just to keep his preference. 

Don’t think too much about it. Do not. 

“I wish everything was different,” you whisper, drifting into a dreamless sea. “I don’t want to hate you...” 

Your forehead is swept by a warm hand. You cannot lift your lids any longer, but your ears still hang onto their efforts. 

And the last thing you hear before succumbing to the dark is a lighter flick and a fact. A cold, expected, damning fact. 

“You’ll always hate me.” 

When you wake, you’re greeted by the same room you fell asleep in. 

Sunlight cuts through grey skies to shine every surface, and you breathe in a musky, comforting scent as you stretch your limbs. 

Did last night really happen? 

The soreness between your bare legs is more than enough to prove so. 

Slowly turning, you whisper to Yoongi that you’re ready to go when he is. 

Only to find out that you’re talking to no one. 

Shit.

Shooting up, you start to panic. Maybe he’s in the living room already? Getting ready to call someone to bring you back home? 

Glancing at the nightstand on his side, you don’t spot the dagger he gifted you, brain grappling with what that could possibly mean. 

Your ribs crackle when you bite back emotion. It’s all over. 

Shifting back to swing your feet onto cold fibers, you pause with swimming eyes. 

Because the blade rests ready on your nightstand, propped on a set of plain clothes in the perfect position you would need it to be.

Teeth clenched and eyes burning, you swipe it before rushing out of bed, head pulsing and a dull ache between your legs. “Fuck..” 

The shirt and pants you’re given don’t exactly fit, but you’ll take what you can get as you punch limbs through long sleeves and high pants. 

Yoongi isn’t here. 

You feel it in your whole being, and you have no fucking clue why it hurts. 

But if he’s not here…

Who do you start to hear outside the door? 

You freeze, lungs expanding as you hold multiple breaths. 

It sounds like talking. But also a myriad of sounds? 

Heading into the bathroom, you silently glide across the floor before swiping up the chopsticks. Because yes, you’re still gonna save them. For defence. For keepsakes. For a grave reminder. 

Tucking them in a pocket, you ready your dagger under your garment, pressing it flat against your skin like you were trained to do. 

Slipping out into the hallway, you hear the sounds clearer. Movement. Slides of furniture. 

What the hell is going on? 

You’re about to retreat back into the room when a man crosses in front of the hall. 

And his hair is strikingly… 

Orange?

As he catches you in his vision, he stops on a dime, hand outstretched in greeting. “Hello!” 

Your step back makes him laugh. But you’re not laughing in the slightest as you question, 

“Where’s.. Where’s Agust?” 

“Gone.” The smile spreading makes you squint. “Need to see him?” 

Your answer is immediate.

“I’d rather die.”

-

-

⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

a/n: alright before i say anything else: use the bathroom after sex, and especially after doing it unprotected!! i normally include it so this is a rare exception. but yes. please use the bathroom after, and practice safe sex always! a/n 2: WHO COULD THAT BE AT THE END THERE... ahahah but seriously, i for one am still swirly eyed just thinking about what's coming for these two.. they have no idea what's in store and i'm itching to get the next part done! a/n 3: if there's something you liked about this or a line/scene/whatever thing you enjoyed, feel free to let me know! feedback is never expected, but always appreciated. if the interest level is high, that adds motivation like no other. thank you all for reading! ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ minted masterlist

[6kuna]

Dilf! Sukuna would be one of those guys that defend women in danger+ would also be so bad at rizzing girls up that he just sounds desperate and pathetic[endearing]

“You’re the new teacher? I didn’t know they hired young girls these days. I wouldn’t even be surprised if you’d be the reason my son is getting his abc’s” he says as he looks at you up and down savoring every curve and line of your

You gave the parent a benefit of the doubt and took whatever he said as a compliment all while returning his “compliment” with an awkward chuckle.

“Thank you…”

“Say…if you come by my house and give some private lessons for him I’m more than capable to pay you more than the school does” he says smirking hiding the perversed meaning behind his shit request.

It’s the first time some weird parent tries to pull this type of behaviour on you the whole interaction leaves you in shock as you smile awkwardly trying to find the right words to respond and the patience to not punch him in the face. Your heart beats rapidly with your fists turning clammy and white from anxiety of not knowing what or how to respond to the fool of a parent.

“MISS Y/N I MISSED YOUUUUU” a familiar pink haired kid comes running as he gives you a hug. Shocked was an understatement by you were more than grateful for Yuuji to intervene.

“you know me and your teacher were having a conversation don’t your parents tell you that it’s rude to interrupt adults” The random parent says giving Yuuji a fake smile.

“Yeah? I’m the parent.” Sukuna says curtly with the most unamused expression known to man.

The male turns around to take a look at whoever the parent of the funky insolent child only to be greeted by a 6’5 fully tatted male who looked like he was more than capable to break his bones with just a simple flick. It also didn’t help the fact that Sukuna’s aura(lol) was more than threatening enough on its own without having to say a single word.

“I guess kids these days don’t learn enough manners I’ll take my leave for now” the inferior male says gulping as he puts up a front before scrunching up his face as he walks away.

Sukuna glares daggers at the stupid fool making sure he leaves the vicinity.

A huge breath of relief was let out as you kneeled down onto Yuuji’s height thanking him and his scarily hot dad for saving you from whatever the situation was.

“You guys have no idea how thankful i am, Yuuji you and your dad literally saved me”

“WE KNOWWWW, Hiro’s dad is a bit creepy” Yuuji says happily as he brings out a couple of souvenirs from his summer trip with his family to you before running into the building excitedly leaving you and his dad alone.

“Did he ask you if you for private lessons?” Sukuna asks with a smug smile

“Yes- what how did you know?!”

“He’s a douche and a weirdo he says that to every new teacher even the volunteers. I hope you’re okay after that interaction” Sukuna scoffs annoyed at the male’s behaviour. Knowing that Sukuna at his prime would’ve beaten the hell out of the weirdo for making women uncomfortable.

“I’m fine honestly I wish I could return the favour i don’t even know what i would’ve done if you and Yuuji didn’t come by” you say in a appreciative tone

Sukuna upon hearing this immediately takes the opportunity to ask you on something that has been on the back of his mind from the moment he laid eyes on you.

“You can return the favour by coming by my place for dinner I’ll cook, I can even pick you up just let me know when you’re free” he says in the spur of the moment not noticing he sounds like a desperate, desperate man.

You were so shocked at Sukuna’s abrupt response to the point you could literally feel the heat rising onto your cheeks making you smile sheepishly before bursting out in laughter.

“I didn’t think you would ask me that, but im free anytime on Saturday is it fine with you?”

“Saturday? Perfect” he says grinning as he sees you walking away he came to his senses realising he forgot to ask for your number

“You didn’t give me your number” he says from afar

It was your turn to leave him into the flustering mess. You smirked looking back at the giant of a male waiting for your response.

“I have yours don’t worry i’ll text you later” you say playfully.

It was true you do have his number. You’ve saved it from the moment he sent Yuuji on the first day.

Sukuna was lucky enough he didn’t have whatever his dad had cause frankly Sukuna would’ve probably gone into cardiac arrest with that statement alone. With that it is settled Yuuji will be sent off to Toji’s house for a sleepover while his dad gets straight to business.

Edit:not proofread was done when im literally ten secons awya from asleep i appoliguse for shit writing

[worldlxvlys]

teasing

(part four of the CRUSH series)

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutt, no actual p in v, masturbation (male + female), cursing

a/n: read the previous part for context !

“god, you look so beautiful. and your voice? i could listen to you talk all day”

the camera was aimed at his face, but the wet squelching of him jerking himself off could be heard in the background. he was breathing heavily, the sounds of his low pants filling the room.

if he was trying to be discreet, he wasn’t doing a good job at it.

“just-just please keep talking to me, okay ? need to hear your voice so fucking badly”

the video cut off.

i quickly began to record my own video.

“so fucking needy matt, why don’t you show me what you’re doing baby? i can help you, but i gotta be able to see. wanna make sure i’m doing it right”

“you keep sending videos, i’ll keep talking to you pretty boy”

i ended the video and sent it to him, he opened it immediately.

“what am i doing? just enjoying the sound of your voice, sweetheart”

his shirt was off now, the movement of his tatted arm making it obvious that he was still pumping himself furiously.

“ imagining you’re in front of me, on your knees. that pretty face looking up at me while i make a mess all over it. but what i really want is to hear the way you say my name when you’re twitching and shaking under me”

my hand crept past the waistband of my skirt and panties, a moan slipping past my lips while i played with myself.

“ i’d play with you through your panties, watch you squirm while the lace catches on your clit. you just love to tease me, don’t you? let’s see how you like it when i do it back”

the video ended.

i pulled my panties down my legs, holding them in my hand while i hit record;

“you’re right about one thing baby” i spoke, moving the lacy panties into the view of the camera, “i love wearing lace”

i trailed my hand back down to my heat, rubbing the panties against it.

“god, it feels so good matt” i moaned out, eyes screwing shut. “i think about your hands all the time. such long fingers, and those veins? makes me wonder if that’s the only thing on you that’s so veiny”

my breathing began to pick up as i thought about all the times i’d seen his dick push against his pants, practically begging to be sucked.

“and don’t get me started on those grey sweats you love to wear. god, you’re such a slut, basically begging to be fucked dumb. bet you’d like that, huh?”

“you talk about wanting me under you, but what if i made you work for it? what if i made you get on your knees and beg for it?”

SENT.

he opened it immediately, once again. after a few minutes my phone began to ring.

INCOMING FACTIME CALL: MATTTTT 🤭

ACCEPT ? DECLINE?

when the call connected, the sound of matt’s heavy panting rang through my ears. “i’d do it, i would. i- fuck, i’d get on my knees and say whatever you want me to, do whatever you want me to. i’d be so good for you”

“yeah? tell me what you’d do, matt” i spoke as i propped my phone up, angling it so he could see my hand disappearing under my skirt without showing off what was underneath it.

“oh my god” he whispered to himself, mouth hung open slightly as his eyes were fixated on the screen. “i’d make you get on all fours, and finger you just like that” i let out a moan at his words, spreading my legs wider.

“i’d push a finger in slowly, teasing you a little” he spoke, watching while i followed his instructions and pushed in a finger. “like this?” i asked.

“hm, not sure. can’t really see, baby” he replied. “stop teasing me and i’ll stop teasing you” i countered, continuing to move my finger inside of me slowly.

“take it out” he spoke firmly, catching me off guard. “what?” i asked in surprise.

“take your finger out and move it up to your clit, slowly” i followed his instructions with a low huff.

“what, you have an attitude now? i thought you loved teasing?” he spoke in such a cocky tone, i could practically hear his smirk.

i rolled my eyes at that, letting out a quick “fuck you”. his jaw clenched at that, his eyes becoming darker.

“you think i’m playing with you? don’t move. i’m coming over” he spoke quickly, putting his phone down to pull up his pants.

“wait, what?” i asked, finding myself shocked again. when he came back to the phone he was fully dressed and walking out of his room.

“you heard me, stay on the phone. i wanna make sure you don’t touch yourself” he spoke before yelling out to his brothers, “hey, i’m going over to y/n’s, i’ll probably just stay there tonight”

he shut his front door and made his way to the car. “you better have that attitude fixed by the time i get there” he spoke before pulling off.

well, shit.

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tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[hellsitegenetics]

My name is Yoshikage Kira. I’m 33 years old. My house is in the northeast section of Morioh, where all the villas are, and I am not married. I work as an employee for the Kame Yu department stores, and I get home every day by 8 PM at the latest. I don’t smoke, but I occasionally drink. I’m in bed by 11 PM, and make sure I get eight hours of sleep, no matter what. After having a glass of warm milk and doing about twenty minutes of stretches before going to bed, I usually have no problems sleeping until morning. Just like a baby, I wake up without any fatigue or stress in the morning.

I was told there were no issues at my last check-up. I’m trying to explain that I’m a person who wishes to live a very quiet life. I take care not to trouble myself with any enemies, like winning and losing, that would cause me to lose sleep at night. That is how I deal with society, and I know that is what brings me happiness. Although, if I were to fight I wouldn’t lose to anyone.

String identified:

a ag a. ’ 33 a . t tat ct , a t a a, a a t a. a a t a att t, a gt a 8 at t att. ’t , t ccaa . ’ 11 , a a gt gt , att at. At ag a ga a a g at tt t ttc gg t , a a g t g. t a a, a tt a atg t t g.

a t t at at cc-. ’ tg t a tat ’ a t a t . ta ca t t t t a , g a g, tat ca t at gt. Tat a t ct, a tat at g a. Atg, t gt ’t t a.

Closest match: Noctua janthe genome assembly, chromosome: 16 Common name: Lesser broad-bordered yellow underwing moth

[xstarrgirllx]

his queen

- joker!rafe cameron x villain fem!reader

a/n: inspired by the joker and harley in suicide squad but a little less toxic (lowkey obsessed with it)

the dim light of the club bathed the room in a murky haze of reds and blues, the air electric with pounding bass and the clink of glasses. but none of that mattered to him. not the noise, not the bodies moving around the room, not even the wad of cash burning a hole in his pocket.

the joker’s bright blue eyes were locked on her.

she moved in the center of the floor like she owned it, and maybe she did. every sway of her hips, every arch of her back was deliberate, intoxicating. the way she laughed, sharp and wild, sent a jolt straight through his chest. his queen. his chaos.

sitting in his booth, a drink untouched in his strong hand, he leaned back, draping one arm over the edge of the velvet seat. his signature smirk curled across his face, beautiful yet dangerous, but his gaze softened in a way it only ever did for her.

she twirled, hair whipping around her face, and when her eyes caught his for just a second, he felt it like a punch. he gripped the edge of his glass, the tension in his chest mounting. how did she do that to him? bring him to his knees with just one look?

“boss, you good?” one of his henchmen muttered from nearby, his voice tentative.

rafe didn’t even bother looking at him. his focus was all hers. “good?” he echoed, his voice low and dripping with that dangerous charm. “oh, i’m more than good, barry. that—” he gestured lazily toward her, his rings catching the dim light. “that right there is a masterpiece.”

she laughed at something or someone too close to her, and his smirk twitched. one thing about him was that he didn’t share well, and she knew it. he could see the game she was playing, feel the tug of her invisible strings pulling him in. it wasn’t fair, but he loved it.

toxic? sure. obsessive? definitely. but he didn’t care.

when she finally found her way back to him, her breathless smile daring him to say something, she slid onto his lap as if she belonged there. cause she did.

“enjoying the show, rafey?” she teased, her voice dripping with mischief, knowing she’s the only person he’d ever let call him that.

his tatted hands gripped her waist, pulling her closer, his grin sharp as ever. “you know i can’t look away, doll. you’re the fire, the spark and i’m just the poor fool who keeps getting burned.”

she laughed, throwing her head back, and he watched her like a man possessed. feeling a sense of pride as he watched her necklace with his initial glittering in the light. “is that what i am to you?” she asked, brushing a hand along his sharp jawline.

“you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl now, “are everything. and you’re mine. don’t you ever forget it.

and she wouldn’t, because even as twisted as they were, the joker’s love for her was the one thing that was undeniably real.

[jayybugg]

dreams come true

Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Mattheo can't resist each other and have some fun in a tattoo shop.

Warning: Tattoo Artist AU!Mattheo, Dirty talk, Takes place AFTER Hogwarts, Smut (18+), No use of Y/N.

Note: I'm embarrassed to admit how long it took me to write this but personal Tumblr friends know this was a long time coming. Based on feral thoughts from @finalgirllx tattoo Mattheo edits (Please go check them out if you haven't). @cafekitsune for the banners as always! Hope you enjoy!

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, looking up from his drawing station when the bell of the shop’s door rang. It didn’t take long for him to recognize you. A grin spread across his face.

“Back already, Love?” Mattheo’s sultry voice asked, pulling your attention to him. You tilted your head, a smile curving into your lips. “Missed me, Riddle?” You leaned over his drawing station, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

Mattheo kept his eyes trained on your face. He knew if his eyes wondered, they would go straight to your chest. As much as he loved to flirt with you and found you insanely gorgeous, you were still a client and he needed to be professional.

“More than you know, Princess.” Mattheo stood up, walking around the table to tower over you. “What are you here for now?”

Mattheo had tattooed you last month, so he was shocked that you were already back for another one. You looked up at Mattheo through your lashes, “I have a new tattoo idea.”

“Well, spill the beans.” He leaned against the table, focusing on you. He crossed his arms across his chest, unintentionally flexing his muscles while showing off his ink-covered arms. You wet your lips, dragging your eyes from his arms to his eyes. “A dragon.” You said.

“A dragon?” Mattheo asked, looking at you curiously. You nodded quickly, “Yeah. Specifically, a Hebridean Black dragon, but more colorful.”

Mattheo smirked, walking back around the table, retaking his seat. He picked up his pencil to start a sketch. “I’m assuming you’re picking the Hebridean for its enormous size. This will be a large tattoo, huh?” He asked, eyes focused on the paper in front of him.

“You know me so well, Riddle.” You laughed, “Yes, this will be a large tattoo. I want it to wrap around my whole thigh, the head starting on my hip and the tail ending around the knee area.”

Mattheo nodded slowly, looking at you. “Those are sensitive areas, Princess. Are you sure?”

He knew you would be fine with the areas. He had already tatted your spine, leg, ankle, sternum, and side boob. He was the one who wouldn’t be okay. Mattheo was using every ounce of restraint to stop himself from simply bending you over one of these tables and taking you there.

“Of course, I’ll be okay.” You raised your eyebrow. “Who do you think I am? Some rookie?”

Mattheo chuckled at the question. “Fine. You got it, Princess. You can hang out in my station while I get it drawn up and printed.”

You smiled at him, walking into the familiar room. All the ink and equipment were neatly placed and clean. You sat on the tattoo bench, leaning back as you waited for Mattheo to join you in the room. He didn’t leave you waiting for long. Mattheo entered the room with the printed-out stencil and a pair of smooth, black rubber gloves.

“I forgot to bring a change of pants.” You said, slightly embarrassed, “This was a kind of impulsive decision.”

Mattheo stared at you before shrugging. “I’m comfortable if you just want to do it in your underwear, Princess.”

You smiled, standing up and peeling your jeans off. Mattheo turned on his heels fast to face the wall. His eyes trained on the ceiling as he took a deep breath. You laid back on the table, looking over at him. “I’m ready, Matty.”

Mattheo nodded, clearing his throat. He slid his gloves on as he watched you shift around on the bench in just your underwear and top. He held back his groan and pulled up his chair. He prayed to Merlin that he would make it out of this session with a piece of his dignity.

The beginning of the session was easy. Mattheo focused on the designs while he listened to you rant about how hard school was. It wasn’t until he got to the inner part of your thigh that it got difficult.

To have precise lines on your tattoo, you had to spread your legs with Mattheo nestled in the middle of them. He gripped your thigh, keeping the skin stretched as he worked. He couldn’t focus on what you were talking about or what he was even tattooing. He thanked Merlin for his motor skills because if he was still a rookie, this would end with a lawsuit.

You couldn’t help but notice Mattheo’s heavy breathing so close to your core. It was making you wetter than you ever expected it to. Of course, you were attracted to Mattheo, and with him so close but so far away from fulfilling your fantasies, it was killing you.

The room fell into a comfortable silence as you couldn’t keep your voice leveled anymore and Mattheo kept his mouth closed and his eyes focused on the tattoo. After a few more hours, Mattheo finally finished your tattoo and looked at you proudly.

“It looks good, Princess. I would have never thought to do this if you hadn’t asked.” Mattheo observed it, “I ran out of wrap, so I need to run over to the store to get some. Just give me like 10 minutes, okay?”

You nodded, smiling at him. “Of course, I’ll be here.”

Mattheo winked at you before leaving the shop, locking the door behind him so no one just walked in and scared you. You let out a breath of relief, your hand traveling to your underwear. You hooked your finger around the cloth, pulling it to the side and letting another finger tease your folds. You were soaked.

“How the fuck am I this wet? He didn’t even do anything.” You mutter to yourself. You glanced around the room, sighing softly before dipping two fingers into yourself.

It was probably a terrible idea to finger yourself in Mattheo’s shop and on his tattoo bench, but your desire was stronger than your common sense at that moment.

“F-fuck…” You moaned, keeping up the pace, “Shit, Mattheo.”

You kept going, wanting to reach your climax before Mattheo got back. You picked up the pace of your fingers, now slamming them into yourself. Your moans were loud, and your thoughts were so clouded that all your awareness was thrown out the window.

With your eyes screwed shut, head thrown back, and fingers still buried deep in your pussy, you reached your orgasm. You let out a deep breath of relief as you finished.

“That was a nice show to come back to, Princess.”

You jumped to cover yourself, and widened your eyes, looking at the door where Mattheo leaned against the frame. He had his arms crossed, his muscles flexing and his tattoos moving. Your jaw slacked open as you tried to find any excuse for what he had seen.

“I…. Mattheo, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…. I wasn’t….”

Mattheo sat the wrap down on the table, walking over to you with a smirk plastered on his face. He placed a hand on your leg, moving them apart slowly. You looked between him and his hand, pulling your lip between your teeth.

He bent down to lie between your fully spread legs, groaning at the wetness that he was met with. “Fuck, you wanted me this bad, Princess?”

He took a finger, rubbing it over your clit, adding a small amount of pressure. You let out a whimper, gripping the sides of the bench. “Mattheo….”

“I’ve been wanting to see this pretty pussy for so long. Wanting to hear you moan my name since I’ve heard that beautiful voice of yours.” He looked up at you. “And now you’ve soaked my bench just thinking about me?”

“I didn’t mean to……I just…You were so close that I got turned on.” You whispered, letting out a moan as he dipped his finger into you, pumping in and out of you at a slow pace.

“I’m not mad, Princess.” He kissed your thigh. “I want to hear it again.”

Mattheo dipped his head down, sucking your clit into his mouth as he added another finger inside of you, picking up the pace. Your hands flew to his curls, tangling your hands into them, tugging slightly. Mattheo groaned softly at that, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

“Fuck, Matty, Oh my Gods.” You whimpered out. He slid his fingers out and hooked his hand around your thighs, being careful of your tattoo. Pulling you close, he flicked his tongue up and down your clit, letting it occasionally slip into you. You bucked your hips as you felt another orgasm coming. “Matty, I’m about to, fuck, I’m about to cum.”

“Good. Be a good girl for me and cum all over my tongue, Princess.”

You let out a breathy moan, bucking your hips up to grind out your climax on Mattheo’s face. Mattheo chuckled. Standing up, he sunk his fingers into his mouth and sucked your juices off his finger.

“Sweet.” Mattheo smirked at you, “Now c’mere.”

He grabbed the wrap off the table, effectively wrapping your tattoo before pulling you off the bench and to the floor so you were on your knees in front of him. You stared up at him, your eyes wide as your hands trailed up his legs and over the growing bulge in his pants. “Go ahead, pretty girl.” Mattheo’s voice came out soft and demanding. Your fingers fumbled with his belt and zipper, eventually popping open to allow you to tug them down.

Mattheo smirk, moving your hands gently and tugging his boxers and pants down quicker, stepping out of them. He let out a small grunt as he pumped himself slowly, precum already dripping from his tip. He reached his hand out, weaving it into your hair and gripping it from the roots as he pulled your head back. Your mouth fell open, in shock and want, causing Mattheo to smirk down at you. “Look at you, such a needy slut. You want my cock that bad?”

“Yes,” You whined softly, squeezing your legs together, “Please, I want it.”

Mattheo stepped closer to you, causing you to widen your legs a bit. “Don’t go trying to pleasure yourself, Princess. Wait for your turn. Now, open your mouth.” You followed his directions quickly, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

Mattheo groaned at the sight of you being so obedient to him. He slapped his cock against your tongue before pushing his hips forward and jutting his cock into the warmth of your mouth. His body shivered at the moan you released from just having him in your mouth. “This is what you wanted, huh? For me to face fuck you in my shop? Am I making all those dirty little fantasies come true?”

Mattheo moved his hips at a faster pace, slamming in and out of your throat. Your eyes welled up with tears as saliva trailed down your chin and chest. Your mind was dazed as your core got hotter and hotter from the rough actions. Mattheo’s moans were enough to keep you riled up. “You look so fucking pretty, Princess. Choking on my dick, eyes filled with tears from pleasuring me. Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.”

Your heart leaped at the praises. To make Mattheo feel good and use you in whichever way he wanted is what you desired this entire time. Your endless wet dreams and daydream fantasies were a reality. You felt Mattheo’s thrusts get sloppier and more reckless as he let out a string of curses. “I’m about to cum. I’m going to cum in this slutty fucking mouth of yours.”

He pulled your head closer to him as he released deep down your throat, ensuring that you didn’t waste a drop. He groaned softly, pulling out of your mouth to let you relax. He leaned over, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him. He gently wiped your tears and pulled you in to meet his lips. The kiss was passionate and feverish as he slipped his tongue past your lips. You moaned into it as you stood up, not breaking the kiss.

Mattheo kept one hand on your jaw as he wrapped his arm around your body to roughly palm your ass. He walked you backwards to the tattoo bench, causing you to instinctively jump up on it. Mattheo pulled only an inch away from your lips, mumbling softly to you, “You better stop me now, Princess. If this is something you don’t want….”

“I want it. I want it so bad, Matty. It’s all I’ve thought about since I’ve met you.” You reassure him, your hand reaching down to jerk him off slowly. “I want you. I need you, Mattheo.”

“Fuck, Princess.” Mattheo groaned, kissing you deeply before pushing you on your back and positioning you on the edge of the bench. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and wrapped the other one around his waist. Grabbing the shaft of his dick, he teased your folds before pushing his tip into you.

Whimpers fell from your mouth as Mattheo teased you with just his tip. “Matty…. please….”

“You’re so fucking hot when you beg for me.” Mattheo said, sinking into you. He groaned at the warmth and tightness. “So, fucking warm, Princess. Tell me when to go, baby.”

“G-go…. You can go.” You moaned, gripping the side of the bench. Mattheo didn’t waste time to thrust. His slow thrusts didn’t last long because, within seconds, he was pounding into you. Your moans drowned the creaks of the tattoo bench out. “Fuck, Mattheo, feels s’good.” You babbled; your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“You’re taking me so fucking well, Princess. Such a good fucking slut, letting me rail you on my tattoo bench.” Mattheo groaned, his hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boobs. “My pretty little slut, aren’t you?”

The touching, the thrusting, and the dirty talk were making your mind fuzzy. Pleasure taking over your body was making it impossible for your mind to string together any type of words. “I asked you a question, Princess, answer me,” Mattheo grunted, taking his hand from under your shirt and moving it to wrap around your throat while leaning forward to plunge deeper into you. You mewled at the feeling, your hand gripping his sides and clawing up his back.

“Y-yes! I’m…. I’m your p-pretty little slut.” You finally pushed out, “Fuck, Mattheo.”

Mattheo left wet kisses down your neck to your collarbone. “I’ve been wanting this for so long. To hear your pretty voice moan my name, to hear you beg for me to fuck you. You’re a fucking dream come true.”

Mattheo moved his hand from your neck to your clit, rubbing it as he continued to fuck you. You whimpered at the overstimulation. “I want you to cum all over my dick, Princess. Make a mess all over me and my tattoo bench.”

You moaned, feeling the growing knot in your stomach as you got closer to your climax. One more thrust from Mattheo had you whining and your legs shaking. Tears pricked your eyes once more as Mattheo kept thrusting and rubbing your clit. “I can’t- I can’t take no more, Matty.” You whined, looking up at him.

“Yes, you can. You can take more until I cum, baby girl. I’m almost there, I’m going to cum in this pretty pussy.” Mattheo said, “Gonna let me breed you, Princess? Fill you up with my seed?”

“Yes, please, cum in me. I want it, I want it so bad.” You babbled.

“Good fucking girl,” Mattheo mumbled, groaning as his thrusts became more erratic. He slammed into you once more, burying himself deep into you as he came in you. He pulled out slowly, grabbing your arm and pulling you up into his chest. “That was amazing, Princess. You’re amazing.” He whispered into your ear.

“Thank you.” You felt a blush rush to your face. “Guess I should go pay now, huh?”

Mattheo chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You think you’re paying after all that?”

“It’s only right that I pay you for your work.” You said, your eyes meeting his.

“Trust me, Princess, you’ve paid me with something way more valuable than money.” Mattheo smirked. “And now that’s all I want. I’ll tattoo anything on you for it.”

You blushed, laughing at him. Your heart raced at all the future possibilities with Mattheo.

Today was truly a dream come true.

[jaskierx]

republic of pirates dashboard simulator part 2

thanks to @sherlockig for the screencaps 💕

part 1

⚓️pirate-tats-tournament

and the winner is...

BLACKBEARD'S SNAKE TATTOO with 78.6% of the vote

thanks for voting!

#pirate tattoo tournament #poll result #next time i'm gonna seed it properly so we don't end up with the final 8 tattoos all being on the same guy smh

1,520 notes

🐶saltyseadog

hi everyone i'm fang/kevin and my pronouns are he/him 🥰 looking for more people to follow so like or reblog if you post about:

cute dogs

goats

leather

piracy

art

fishing

stories about demon boys

3 notes

🍖knivesareknives

#if you picked 2 or more let's be friends

29 notes

🌊keeptheseaclean Follow

friends don't let friends throw rubbish into the sea. THINK before you THROW

🎣managainstbeast

can everyone report this account for harassment please. i know the guy in the photo and he is lovely and has really nice hair and he hasn't given his permission for this image to be used.

#posts from the fishing boat #also one man's foul projectile is another man's lovely letter. just saying. broaden your horizons #there's only one thoughtless dipshit here and it isn't stede

448 notes

🦈sharkinfested

who the fuck is 'anti ship'. i didn't even know that was a thing. this website is something else

🌴palmtreeappreciationclub Follow

people who don't support incest. it's that simple

🦈sharkinfested

that doesn't make any sense. i literally live on the same island as every generation of my family. if i was against ships i'd have a much harder time finding someone to fuck who isn't related to me

#how am i supposed to get anywhere else without a ship? fucking swim?? i don't think so #but sure keep virtue signalling i guess #💿🐴

801 notes

🔪notafuckingmermaid

reblog this if you ARE POLYAMOROUS, SUPPORT POLYAMOROUS PEOPLE, or ARE CURRENTLY COVERED IN THE BLOOD OF YOUR ENEMIES 🩸

#3/3 😌

11,873 notes

🕊️see-which-sea-witch Follow

To love the sea as she must be loved requires change.

🌊keeptheseaclean Follow

to love the sea as she must be loved requires NO MORE THROWING RUBBISH INTO HER

🐙krakenmyjoints

bro you're literally replying to a bird

2,432 notes

🐳calicojackwhippedmyballs

you'll see a post that's like 'HRRRHRNESDGJNKDFG I NEEEEED HIM I NEED HIM SO BADLY HE'S SOOOOOOOOO HE'S HGURIESGHDKLJG' and then it'll be a picture of the soggiest white guy you've ever seen

7,230 notes

⛵️gentlemanprivates

hrresrgjerskdghklgjfdgdkl i need to get him PREGNANT he's EVERYTHING he's SOO ASDJHGKLFJSDG

359 notes

[ivoryrebellionmess]

Spooky remorses II

Part I

Summary: You dated Jax for a year and a half, it was great. You fought sure, but that's a given if you´re both stubborn (and he's constantly in danger). Gemma didn't like the relationship, and she made sure that it ended. Now, months after the breakup, your friend takes you to a Halloween party that just happens to be SAMCRO´s.

warnings: 18+, mdni

A/N: hiii omg i cant believe so many people liked the first snippet. thank you so much, honestly, i am beyond excited. so here´s a follow up, hope youu like it <3

tw: foul language, kinda hooking up with your ex, jealous jax, smoking,a little bit of spice, alcohol, gemma being mean

Word count: 4096

As you got to the middle of the dancefloor you saw Juice and Hazel and went over. Juice and you had gotten close while you dated Jax. He was easygoing, funny and nerdy, and the first of the boys to warm up to you. 

He lifted you from the floor when you hugged, ¨How are you Juicy??¨. 

He seemed genuinely happy to see you, and he gestured to Hazel when he answered, ¨I´m great. You look awesome, the fangs are hot¨.

Finally someone complimented you on the fangs, you personally considered they made you look way hotter, but whatever. 

Your relationship with Juice had always been the find of friendship where it feels like you´ve known each other forever, so flirty jokes had always been present. Hazel seemed surprised at the closeness you had with him, but it made sense that you had friends there if you had dated Jax for a year and a half. 

¨While you two catch up¨, she interrupted smiling, ¨I´m going to the bathroom and to get another drink¨

Juice and you danced for a little while when his shirt sleeve rolled up and his bicep was visible. Before you could help yourself, your hand was on it.

¨What the fuck happened to you since I´m not around? You on steroids or something?¨ Juice laughed at that and shook his head. 

He flexed his muscles while he talked about the new work out he´d been doing, ¨You like it?¨

He kept flexing his arm, and you kept laughing and touching him. Both of you oblivious to Jax´s stare, a mix of annoyance and jealousy. Chibs wasn't obvious though, and he did what he was there for. ¨You don't look too happy there, Jackie-boy¨.

Ever since he'd seen you go in, he was on edge, he didn't know why. Okay, he did, you looked awesome and it wasn't for him. He regretted what had happened between you, and he felt guilty, he should've stood up for you to his mom. And now you were there, all gorgeous. But it wasn't for him, and you weren't with him. You were with Juice, admiring his muscles. And it pissed him off. You thought you could just walk in? Not even say hello? Prance around looking that good? Flirt with one of his brothers? All of that in front of him?

Juice and you were still joking around about how girls just swooned when they saw his ¨guns¨, as he liked to call them. If Jax thought that was as bad as it got, he was wrong when a song you loved came on and you seemed determined to have Juice dance it with you. He eventually accepted and pulled you close to him by your waist,  your arms around his neck. Jax was burning holes between his brother's tats when Chibs decided to continue his quest.

¨They´re getting cozy, aren't they?¨. He could feel the scot staring, but his eyes were glued to you.

To Juice´s hands on your waist, to the space separating your bodies that seemed to be getting smaller by the second. And your face, you were laughing at something, you lit up when you laughed. The way your right hand traveled from Juice´s neck to his arm again, squeezing it teasingly. He could feel the tension in his jaw, how tight he was gripping the beer, his knuckles white. And so could his brothers. 

Then, you turned your head to look at him, your gaze uninterested and bored, and said something in Juice´s ear. That was it, you had crossed a line. Ignoring him was one thing, but that look of pure disinterest, you could not ignore what you meant to each other. So he started walking before he could think about it, not knowing what he was going to say when he got to you. 

While you danced and joked, you suddenly felt Juice´s demeanor change, but you didn't need to ask what was going on.

¨Shit, I don't think Jax is loving this¨. He didn't stop dancing, but you could tell he was being careful. 

You decided you were not going to take it seriously so you retorted, ¨Why wouldn't he like us dancing?¨

Juice chuckled, but his tone was serious, ¨Don't play innocent, you know he's jealous¨

You just couldn't resist a peek, was he really?, so you turned your head, very focused on keeping a neutral face, and looked at him. He did look jealous, and annoyed. You tried not to let it get to you, trying to have a good time. 

So you made a joke, you had to get close to Juice´s ear so he could hear it, ¨Is he scared you´re gonna make a move on me or somethin´?¨

Instead of an actual answer, you saw Juice´s look of terror. Turning around, you understood why. Jax was walking towards you, an angry look on his face.

Juice´s whisper got mixed with yours, ¨Oh, hell¨ and ¨For the love of god-¨

Jax stopped in front of you, his eyes flickering back and forth between you two. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw before speaking in the coldest tone you'd ever heard from him. 

¨What the hell is going on?¨ It was an easy question, with an easy answer, but you weren't feeling like taking the easy and safe route. 

Did you know he probably thought you were flirting? Yes. Did you care? No.

So, before you could think, or Juice could answer, the snarky remark was out your dark red lips. ¨What's it look like, genius?¨

It didn't seem possible, but his jaw clenched harder, he wasn't even looking at you. ¨It looks like you're flirtin´with Juice, gettin´all up on him right in front of me¨ There was something bitter about the way he answered. 

¨You think I care that you´re here? ¨ Of course you did ¨You think I did this for your attention?¨ You hadn't, you actually hadn't. You were just trying to have some fun and ignore the hottest guy in the room. 

Jax knew you were just trying to provoke him, and it was working, but he refused to give you the satisfaction. He just hated seeing you two together, laughing and having fun while he was miserable. And maybe he also hated how damn close you had been dancing. The way you were looking at him, a challenge in your eyes. Go ahead, make a scene. He absolutely hated that he was about to.

He took a step closer, lowering his voice. ¨I don't think you did it for my attention, but now you have it. So cut it out¨ 

What did he think was going to happen? You'd just agree? No, he just wasn't thinking straight anymore. 

You, of course, only challenged him further. All that was needed for that were a scoff and two words. ¨Or. What.¨

Another step closer, you could touch him if you wanted to. ¨Or you´ll find out, that's what¨ He just growled an empty threat, you both knew it. He also knew he was out of patience and you were not going to keep pushing his buttons. 

You realized something then, he had growled, and you heard him. How had you been able to hear him with all of the noise…everyone was staring at you. Well, fuck. 

¨Okay people this isn't a show, go back to the party¨. With that, you left the clubhouse, only stopping against one of the picnic tables to lay against it and breathe deeply. 

Jax´s eyes followed you, as they had through the night. He could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on him, this had turned into a bit of a spectacle. He let out a frustrated sigh as he followed you to the picnic table, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. 

You heard him before you saw him, and as usual around him, you spoke before you thought. ¨You did always like to be the center of attention¨. 

The snarky comment had Jax gritting his teeth, his anger flaring up again. He did not speak, however until he was standing in front of you, arms crossed over his broad chest. 

¨I don't know what the hell your deal is tonight, but you´re really pushing my buttons, you know that?¨ 

To that, you only shrugged, looking at him coldly. ¨My deal is I just wanted to have some fun¨

Maybe looking at him had been a mistake, if he had looked good from afar, he looked even better right in front of you, illuminated only by the streetlamps. He was wearing what he always wore, and still he had never looked better in jeans and an oversized white t-shirt. Your face did not show any of that obviously, it was neutral. He could tell you were angry though. But you could tell that so was he, so you were in a tie. 

Fun, that was what you were calling it? He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. ¨Yeah, real fun. Gettin´all cozy with Juice, practically making´out with him in front of me. That your idea of fun?¨

You bit your lip, trying not to lose it on him, the fake fangs drawing his attention. ¨So let's see if I got this right¨ You put all the poison you could in your words, hoping they stung as much as seeing him again did. ¨You´re mad that I danced with Juice, whose attention was on me, as opposed to dancing with you¨ You poked his chest before continuing ¨who didn't even say hi when I walked in?¨ 

He felt a pang in his chest at that, you were right, he´d been so caught up in his anger and jealousy that he hadn't even considered how he had ignored you up until that point. Jax looked away for a moment, a flash of guilt in his eyes. 

¨I didn´t-¨ He started to defend himself, but cut himself off, you were right. Instead he let out a frustrated huff.

¨Yeah, that's what I thought¨ You let a beat of silence pass, then looked at him again. Fuck he looked good . ¨Got a smoke?¨ You needed something to do with your hands.

Jax looked confused for a second, his eyes scanning your face, staying on your lips for a second too long. He was still mad at you, but he obliged. ¨Yeah¨

He patted down his pockets until he found a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He took one out and handed it to you with his lighter. You only took the first, bringing your hand up as you asked , ¨Light me?¨

His pulse quickened at the simple request, something about the way you said it. A bolt of desire went down his spine. Something in him wanted to challenge you, so instead of just lighting it, he took the cigarette from your fingers and placed it between your lips, lightly brushing them. You made an effort to not show the way he affected you. Jax then leaned in closer, shielding the flame from the wind with his hand, not touching you. Your eyes were locked on his, the intensity of the moment almost unbearable. The fire made his eyes sparkle, you got lost in them. 

His gaze was still fixed on yours as you took the first drag, his face so close to yours he could almost feel your breath on his lips. The intimacy made his heart race, his anger slowly fading into the background. Your anger also became less and less prominent, upstaged by a complexity of feelings. 

Jax grabbed the cigarette from you and took a drag of his own, never breaking eye contact. The air between you was electric, crackling with tension. It was hard to breathe, having him so close. He blew the smoke, you felt it on the tip of your nose before it was blown away by the wind. His blue eyes were relentless, never breaking from you, not as he took another drag, and not as your hand searched for his to grab the cigarette. It felt like the tension was growing thicker by the second. Jax was very aware of how close he was to you, how easily he could just touch you. 

He watched you smoke, and you watched him. Until your eyes focused on the cigarette instead of his blue ones. You followed the lipstick stained cig, and then your eyes stayed locked onto his lips. They wrapped around the end of the cigarette, then closed while he held the smoke in, and finally parted to let the smoke out. Jax could feel your gaze on his lips, it made his stomach clench with desire. 

He took another drag, slowly and deliberately, his lips closing around the cigarette in a way that was almost sinful. To top it off, he let out a low hum, eyes never leaving yours even if you were not looking him back, mesmerized by his lips. He was fully aware of the effect he had on you. And you both knew it. You cursed him mentally when you realized he was doing it on purpose.

When he hummed though, that was straight up mean, and this time the curse came muttered under your breath, ¨fuck-¨

Jax smirked at your cursed response, his ego inflating. He could tell he was riling you up, and he was loving every second of it. 

¨What was that, baby?¨ His voice was low and dripping with false innocence. And using baby so casually, like he would while you were together. None of it was accidental.

He took another drag, this time he watched you with a wolfish smile playing on his lips. You couldn't let him win.

Your hand went up to his face, sneaking the cigarette from him and taking it to your own lips. You exhaled the smoke in his face, lips almost brushing his. 

¨Didn't say anything¨, you played along with his innocence, replicating it.

Jax´s heart skipped a beat when your hand snatched the cigarette from his mouth. He could feel your breath on his skin when your lips came so enticingly close to his. The innocent facade only making it harder not to close the space between you. But he knew it was only an act, one he wasn't buying.

He chuckled lowly, ¨Yeah, sure you didn´t¨. His eyes fell to your lips again. Your gaze was fixed on his eyes, the hungry look in them making it harder to think of a comeback. 

You did what you could, taking a drag, hoping it would distract you, it didn't. ¨Yeah, sure I didn´t¨

Had it been the smartest thing to say? No, but it was the best you could come up with, so it would have to do. You had to up your game, he couldn't  win. Jax  found your teasing infuriating, it was also hot, yes, but infuriating. He was on edge, trying to keep his thoughts in check each time your lips wrapped around the cig. The need inside him to kiss you senseless was overwhelming, clouding his brain. 

¨You're such a damn tease¨, he growled, ¨you know that?¨

To say that the growl had made your knees weak would be an understanding, so you decided to bring it up a notch too. It was only fair. 

You replied in what could be considered a purr, rather than actual talking. ¨Don´t know what you´re talking about¨

His body ached to touch you, he gritted his teeth, wanting to kiss you until you couldn't breathe. Hell he wanted to kiss you until you couldn't remember your own damn name. The next time he talked you could hear the desire dripping in his rough voice, ¨God damnit, darlin´¨

You liked the effect that had had on him, so you purred again, this time closer to his ear. ¨What is it baby?¨ 

You hadn't meant to call him baby,  it slipped, you got too lost in the heat of the moment. If you weren't so distracted, you'd realize the importance of what you had just said, the major step back you'd taken in getting over him. And his beautiful blue eyes. And his perfect lips. But he didn't give you time to think about all of that because his eyes darkened, his body stiffened by the tension. The sultry purr, calling him baby, you made him want to show you how much he'd missed you. 

¨You know damn well what you're doing to me¨, the desire was mixed with a bit of a warning. It did nothing to scare you off.

Using the hand that wasn't holding the cigarette, you pulled him closer by his belt loop, all caution thrown to the wind. 

¨Remember when we used to smoke together? Blowing the smoke into each others mouths?¨. You sensed him nod, watching him clench his jaw.

The reminder of those memories felt like a punch to his gut, your mouths touching, feeling your breath against him, the way your kisses would taste,...Jax felt like he was drowning.

His hands came to rest on your hips and his voice was barely  rough whisper, ¨Yeah, I remember¨

You hummed, enjoying the feel of his hands on you, yours now resting on his abs, ,¨Havent done it in a long time, have you?¨

You could feel him tensing under your hand, fingers caressing his skin over the white cloth. His mind was spiraling, it had been so long since he felt your touch, and he wanted more. Jax tried to pull himself together, shaking his head and looking at your eyes. 

His husky voice broke the silence, ¨No¨, and hesitantly, he added, ¨Not since you¨.

The hold on your hips got harsher, holding steady against his body. It made you press your legs together, and even worse, it pulled a groan from your throat. The fact that he hadn't done it with anyone else held significance, it felt like it was yours, it was something you did whenever your screaming matches reached a dead end. You´d share a cigarette, and it always led to this, which always led to bed. Or a couch. Or wherever. Even the pool table once.

Your legs pressing together did not go unnoticed, igniting in him the urge to pin you against the picnic table and take care of it himself. But he needed to keep some semblance of control, even if it was slipping further and further away. He did lean in closer, pressing himself against your body, his mouth so close to your ear you felt his beard scratch it. 

But you couldn´r let him have this, so taking control over your body. Okay, maybe taking control was an exaggeration. Regaining an inch of self control, you whispered in his ear, ¨Wanna do it again? for old times sake?¨

Jax´x breath hitched as your breath ghosted over his ear, it took him a few seconds to understand what you said. And when he did, a shiver ghosted down his spine. His eyes fell closed as he fought the desire inside him, the want to do very ungentlemanly things to you against that table. But when had he even been a gentleman? He opened his eyes and looked at you, sending sparks though your whole body. 

When he spoke and you looked up to him again his eyes were practically burning with desire. ¨Fuck yeah, I do.¨ His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it seemed to resonate through your whole body.

You did not have the strength to do anything, scared that your hands would tremble or your voice would shake. It wasn't a problem, because Jax took the cigarette from your hand, letting his knuckles graze your fingers. Your touch against his abs was driving him crazy. So did your smell. And so did your eyes, which were locked on his lips. The heat of your body, even if it was a chilly october night, made his mind travel to dark places. He took a slow drag. 

¨Open up¨, his voice was raspier, holding the smoke in his lungs. 

Your lips parted on their own accord, your head moving closer.That made Jax hum, itching to close the space between your mouths. His next command came right before he exhaled, not giving you time to react or answer, ¨Inhale¨. So you just obeyed, lips barely touching his. 

That graze sent a wave of heat through his body. Every little detail, from the way the smoke curled around your nose to your hand tracing patterns on his abs, was more overwhelming than the last. It was a hard fight against himself, against the crippling desire to fuck you right then and there. The anticipation though, was making the moment hotter and hotter.

Your self awareness, the little voice screaming don´t do this, seemed to have disappeared with your self-esteem when he next ordered: ¨Hold it in¨. You almost moaned at that, his dominant side had always had that effect on you. Your hand moved to his waist, needing somewhere to hold on to before your knees gave out. 

Your hand clutching his waist, that brought back memories. way more naked memories. Your body pressed against his, he was sure you could feel how hard he was against your thigh. And you could. It was distracting. You felt his arm move up again, but your eyes were locked on his. 

Jax got closer as he spoke, his lips now millimeters from yours, ¨Ready?¨ You could taste the smoke as you exhaled. 

Then your mind managed to work for a short second, what did he mean by ready?. ¨Another one?¨

Jax seemed to be a second away from tearing your dress off  as he answered, ¨Yeah…another one¨. It was a challenge, he was challenging you, the stubborn bastard. But you were definitely not losing this fight. 

So as the cigarette came closer to his lips again, you snatched it, ¨My turn. ¨

He could hear it in your voice, you were fighting a losing battle, so was he. The idea of losing control with you in this moment, though, seemed appealing and terrifying at the same time. What you got instead of an answer was a groan and a rub,  his impossibly hard dick against your soft thigh. You didn't realize you had moaned until he mocked you for it, ¨You need to keep it together baby¨, then his head moved lower as he bit your earlobe, ¨We haven't even started yet¨. 

His sass, as much as it bothered you, was hardly enough to keep you from clashing your lips with his. But he pulled away, his voice dripping sex and cockiness, ¨Show me what you got¨, nodding to the cig in your hand. And you had no voice but to obey. 

So you took a long drag, hoping it would distract you from the ache between your legs. It didn't. Moving the hand from his waist to his face, you caressed his lower lip and decided to throw his words back at him. 

¨Open up¨. You sounded way more confident than you were expecting, or felt for that matter. You could tell it had bothered him, good . That's not all it did, it caused him to hum. And as he parted his lips, his tongue darted out and licked your thumb. You shakingly exhaled the smoke, not knowing how much more you could take. 

Jax did not need your instructions, closing the gap between you and inhaling the smoke, not pulling away even after he let the smoke out, you were breathing the same air. Jax somehow got closer, one of his hands steady on your hips as the other moved up, finally setting on the back of your head. His fingers traced patterns on your nape, sending shivers down your spine. Your mind was no longer yours as you slowly licked his lower lip. His lips parted a second later, but he didnt give in. Lucky for him, you didnt give a fuck anymore. Using the hand on his cheek, you pulled him closer and kissed him, your tongue in his mouth, battling for dominance. Fuck. It was somehow better than you remembered. And you couldn't get enough, his lips tasted like smoke and addiction. 

Life never made it easy for you as the clubhouse door flew open, breaking the moment, shedding light and noise on you. On your compromising position. 

[captainquake42]

> ♡ °. INKED UP

♡ part two

☆ kwon jae sung x fem!reader

> summery:

it’s the first round of the tournament and to no one's surprise miyagi do’s first opponents are cobra kai. unfortunately for kwon that meant trying not to get distracted by you fighting his teammates in what was basically a capture the flag game, only instead of a flag the goal was throwing the captains to the mat.

OR kwon should have no problem staying focused and yet here he was.

> notes + warnings:

anybody else a d1 yapper?

the middle pic is the tat she got ( at least that's what I had in mind) in part one // part three if you'd like :)

Google translate was used for the korean and likey wrong (sorry bout that)

also posted on my ao3

> 1.5k written by:

S A R A H

Kwon had a problem. A shooker to everyone but him.

It was just his luck to make captain of his team at the most feared karate tournament in the world and still fuck up as soon as he got there.

It didn’t seem to matter that he had only just barely had time to touch his toes to the mat before he was unable to keep a clear goal in his mind. He was supposed to be thinking of nothing but his goals and how to achieve it. But instead he couldn’t stop thinking of you. Your voice, how you said his name, your hair, your tattoo he went with you to get last night. It was embarrassing. No, scratch that—it was humiliating. He’d only meant you last night! The sheer audacity of you being this distracting was going to make him lose his mind. He was so spacey that Yoon, of all people, called him out on it.

All the weeks of training leading up to this, the grueling late nights, and the blood, sweat, and tears he'd put into this moment—gone. Wiped clean from his brain like it was never there because of you. Like you were playing a game with his head and hit reset instead of continue.

When he forced himself on your little trip, he honestly didn’t plan on doing anything but make sure you got there and back safe. He had no idea that you were a yapper. And he doesn’t mean that like you just make conversation, but more that you were allergic to silence. Kwon heard more words from you in two hours than he’d ever heard from his own siblings. You told him, unprompted(!), about how you were a 3x wrestling state champ going for a fourth this year, that you hated curling your hair but liked the end product, how you couldn’t braid your own hair but everyone else was easy, that you’d only done karate for two years, and so on hardly stopping to breathe. It was a wonder that had him half-wondering how on earth you hadn’t passed out from lack of oxygen.

“ Ibwa! Byeongsin daejang, jibjung jom haebwa? (Hey, Captain asshole, maybe focus?)” Yoon snapped at him, dodging a flying kick from one of your teammates, the one with a mohawk, before kicking him off the mat.

“ Dagchyeo, Yoon. Na jibjunghago iss-eo. (Shut up, Yoon. I am focused.)” He grunted jumping into a flying kick, taking out one of your teammates with a satisfying thud.

“ Amado geunyeoege jibjunghaess-eul geoya, ( Focused on her, maybe),” Yoon shot back, and Kwon considered the pros and cons of “accidentally” taking down his own teammate.

Pro: Yoon wouldn't be able to talk to him for at least two minutes.

Con(s): he’d be mad when this was done and Kwon’s team would be down a number for the round.

Probably not worth it.

In the corner of his eye he watched you grab Hana’s, his teammate’s, foot before her kick could find it’s mark. You shoved her foot up above her head throwing her off balance and getting in close, you hooked her ankle with your own to rip it out from underneath of her forcing her to fall, and taking her out quickly. Which makes that 3 of his teammates out, and 2 of your’s.

Which left your twin brother the male captain to him, Yoon and your curly haired teammate, Tory and the female captain, with you trading opponents going back and forth between Yoon and Tory, opening weak spots for your mates to take advantage of.

Robby, if he remembered right, grabbed his leg, so Kwon twisted midair, using his pivot and jumping foot in a spin kick that forced him to let go so he didn’t take Kwon’s ankle to the jaw.

Kwon got two more hits in before Robby was able to knee him twice, Robbby had him in an arm lock but something must have grabbed his attention because he hesitated for a second too long and Kwon instantly took advantage. He punched him in the face, with that same arm he wrapped it over Robby’s chest and squeezed making his back bow. Robby elbowed him twice to get out of it, and threw a punch, unfortunately for him he swung too wide and left his waist open for a hip throw that Kwon took advantage of.

He looked over and saw you mid back handspring to avoid hitting the ground via Yoon’s foot. Yoon himself had been put in a headlock by a curly haired boy and was about to be thrown.

“ Miyagi do’s captain goes down.” Kwon heard the announcer say. “ Cobra kai beats Miyagi do. Last standing, cobra kai and the iron dragons.”

Sometime before their win the falchi della notte team got taken out, leaving shit all six of the iron dragons remaining.

He, Tory, and Yoon gathered in the middle of the mat.

“ Got any more ideas?” He grumbled.

Yoon made a face. “ Same as last?” He suggested halfheartedly.

“ Yep,” Tory said. “ Pierce the front line, go for the captains.”

Before the trio could take more than three steps, the iron dragons did something nobody saw coming, the entire front line took a knee, voluntarily taking themselves out. They all walked off the mat to line up behind their captains next to their sensei.

“ I’ll take the little girl, you two get the big guy.” Tory said switching places with Yoon on her right.

Kwon and Yoon exchanged a glance.

“ Geudeul-i ulileul gwasopyeong-gahaneun geolkka, animyeon uliga geudeul-eul gwasopyeong-gahaneun geolkka? (Are they underestimating us or are we underestimating them?)” He asked Yoon, rolling his shoulders back.

Yoon shrugged. “ Al-aboja (Let’s find out.)”

Find out they did.

Turns out iron dragon’s male captain is strong as fuck. Not good at fighting – all though that too, but physically. He got him and Yoon out in seconds, and Tory fell to the female captain at the same time, after getting put in a submission arm bar forcing her to tap out or break her arm. Kwon barely had time to process his opponent’s size before he was yanked off his feet and slammed to the mat. He blinked up at the ceiling, winded, as Yoon met a similar fate a second later right next to him.

Kwon groaned as he pushed himself up, wincing at the ache in his ribs. “ Naega WWE gyeong-gie deungloghago issdaneun sasil-eul mollassseubnida. Geuneun galadedo aneun geolkkayo, animyeon geunyang jaemisam-a salamdeul-eul ilijeoli deonjineun geolkkayo? (Didn’t realize I was signing up for a WWE match. Does he even know karate, or is he just throwing people around for fun?)”

“ Dangsin-i na-ege malhaneun. (Your telling me.)” Yoon wheezed, rolling onto his side. “ Maybe if someone had suggested watching more film on these guys, we wouldn’t be eating mat right now,” Yoon added pointedly switching to english so Tory could understand him, giving Kwon a side-eye as they got off the mat.

“ Oh, don’t start. We trained for fighters, not human bulldozers,” Kwon shot back with a wince after rolling his neck weird.

“ Save the excuse for later. As soon as this round is done, we’re going back to the locker room and watching every second of footage we can find on every team in this tournament.”

Kwon sighed, running a hand through his hair. He was definitely in trouble. “ Hear that Tory? Don’t think you can skip out again.”

Yoon was still grumbling under his breath.

“ Yoon,” Kwon began, his voice heavy with frustration as he tightened his fist. “ I get it. You're salty. But maybe save the lecture for when we're not licking our wounds in front of every dajang here.”

Yoon shot him a glare, rubbing at his ribs. “ You think this is about being salty? This is about us getting our asses handed to us because someone,” he jabbed a finger in Kwon's direction. “ Didn't think we needed to study footage.”

Kwon scoffed, flexing his jaw as he brushed some imaginary dust off his shoulder. “ Oh, I'm sorry, Yoon. Did you want me to spend more time obsessing over grainy tournament clips of every match? Maybe you can build a time machine and tell me how that guy has forearms the size of my thighs!”

Tory groaned from where she leaned against the barricade. “ Both of you, shut up. My arm’s not broken, but I swear I can still feel her pulling on it. Did she dislocate my shoulder? Or just my dignity?”

Kwon glanced her way, smirking. “ Well, your dignity's definitely bruised. Not sure about your shoulder, though.”

She rolled her eyes. “ Keep talking, Captain. It’s not like you didn’t just get folded like a lawn chair.”

Before Kwon could retort, Yoon cleared his throat loudly. “ Alright enough. The point is, we’re screwed if we keep going into these matches blind.”

“ Round up the rest of the team and have them meet us in the locker room, Tory. I’m gonna see if one of our sensei’s bought their laptops.” Kwon said.

“ First good decision you’ve made all day.” Yoon said.

[captainlondonman]

STUDENT TO WORKIE

‘Dave, can you deliver this present to my father when you are back in town.’

Tony asked.

Dave had been spending the weekend with his friend in his university town. and was on his way home.

‘Sure thing mate,’ Dave replied. ‘I haven’t seen your father for years’

‘Neither have I much as he and Mum rarely speak.’

‘What does he do?’

‘Something in the building sector. He should be around in the evening. I’ll give you the address. Just hand it over on the doorstep and anyway I’m sure he won’t even ask you in. He is a bit rough but to be honest he buggered off soon after I was born. Never remarried, probably because he is so difficult.’

The day after getting home, Dave took his bike and went round to the address given by his friend. Ringing the doorbell he heard a deep voice shouting from the other side.

‘No need to push so fucking hard I heard you.’

The door flew open and standing in front of Dave taking up most of the doorway was a man with full HiViz kit. This was not what Dave was expecting.

Something in the building sector, Dave thought he would be a bit like himself a Surveyor. But standing in front of him was a well built hunk of a man wearing only a HIViz waistcoat his large hairy chest from neck down showing, with a slight beer belly pushing out over his workgear trousers. The waistcoat was back enough to show a pair of nipples that looked unreal as if they had been pulled out to be large and juicy. Both arms were hairy and covered in tats all the way down to is wrists which then a fat hands with nails ingrained with dirt. The man had a thick moustache and unshaven around the chin, his hair cut to a No 1.

‘Christ’ thought Dave h’ow can this be Tony’s father. No wonder they hardly talk. Who’d want this guy as a father?’

‘Who the fuck are you,’ the man said staring at Dave

‘Er, I’m a mate of Tony and he asked if I would drop by and give you a present. I suppose it’s your birthday.’

‘I get a present once a year from that little shit and he never bothers to contact me. Mind you I ain’t any better. He’s a right little ponce thinking he is much better than me. I suppose you are also a little mister big shot eh?’.

‘I don’t think Tony is at all like that and a bit unfair of you to say that.’

‘Oh a right little mouthy are you?’

‘Well I suppose if you have cycled across town you might as well come in and have a beer. I have just opened a bottle for myself.’

As Dave walked into the kitchen he could smell the man, unwashed and a smell of stale ciggies. The guy handed Dave a bottle and said

‘Want a ciggie?’

‘No I don’t smoke.

‘Well all workies like a good smoke so if you don’t mind I will.’ he said lighting up.

‘So tell me a bit about yourself.’

Dave explained how he knew Tony and how he was studying surveying.

‘So you are the posh guys that come on site and tell me what to do eh.’ The man said laughing. ‘Anyway I am Pete which you probably know from my son. Not like me is he. Probably like his ma all slim and pretty, a bit like you eh?’

‘I wouldn’t describe myself as pretty.’

‘Well you’re hardly man mountain are you?’

The two guys continued to talk and had another beer and then another till Dave said ‘I think I need to get back but after all these beers can I go for a pee please.’

‘Just before you do let me get you a HiViz waistcoat as its now dark and you are on a bicycle. Hold on.’

A minute later Pete returned with a dirty Hi Viz waistcoat.

‘There you are, the bathroom is just next door.’

Dave went in and could smell pee and saw piss marks around the rim of WC. It all looked pretty untidy and then his eye caught sight of a jockstrap hanging out of a dirty laundry basket.

Normally Dave would have turned his nose up in disgust but there was something so manly and uncouth about Pete that he could not resist touching the jockstrap. It was covered in piss marks and as he handled it he could almost feel it slightly crusty as though it was died cum.

Before he knew what he was doing he stuffed the jockstrap into his pocket feeling his cock start to stir in his chinos. 

‘Shit I’d better get out before my cock is stiff.’

With the jockstrap in his pocket he walked back into the kitchen and thanked Pete for the HIViz.

‘Not a prob mate, bring it back any time I’m sure I’ll see you again’. he smirked.

Once home Dave for some reason kept his HiViz on, he wanted to keep it on but most of all when he took the stained jockstrap out of his pocket he wanted so much to smell it. He instinctively put it over his head and brought the deep yellow stained pouch down over his face rubbing it all over  as he took deep breaths. The odour of dried piss was overwhelming as he pressed the material tight against his nose. He could feel the dried cum brush against his face. The smell was intoxicating, it was almost making him dizzy but it so excited him knowing that this jockstrap belonged to his friend’s father, the uncouth workie, the beer swilling cigarette smoker with the hairy body and his HiViz gear. As he breathed deeper and deeper so the blood rush moved down to his cock. It was ramrod hard and he had got so excited the precum was oozing out of the tip. He smothered his face with the jockstrap feeling the stench become part of his face. He wanted to smell, he wanted to be dirty like Tony’s father. Shit the man was so fucking sexy even with his large belly but all that hair and unsahevn look was such a turn on. Knowing it was his best friends’ father made it even better. As he sucked the jockstrap so he could feel the piss and dried cum soften he let the taste run down his throat..His hand was now wrapped around his dick. The more he sucked at the jockstrap the more his hand slid up and down the shaft.

‘Shit I want Tony’s dad .I want to suck and fuck with the bloody workie.’

As the throbbing came to a climax he shouted

‘I only want fucking workies.’ And with that he shot his load over the floor whilst almost gagging with the jockstrap down his throat taking in every bit of piss and cum.

Without cleaning his dick he put on the jockstrap so the last few drops of his cum mixed with Tony’s father’s piss and cum. His cock immediately got hard again but Dave wanted his cock encased in the dirty jockstrap and he could feel his shaft rubbing against hardened piss and cum. It felt good to be wearing it and he put the Hiviz waistcoat back on and went to bed feeling almost as if he was part of Tony’ father workie body. He woke up the next day and stretched but as he did so he thought his body felt slightly different. Looking at himself there was a change but he could not quite understand what the difference was. He looked as if he had been working out a bit, there was more definition to his muscle arms and even the beginning of a 6 pack. His shoulders had widened a bit and the bulge within his jockstrap seemed a bit larger. He decided not to shower but kept the jockstrap on. He liked feeling dirty and having the older man’s piss make its smell . When he put his T shirt on he put the waistcoat back on.

There was something about Tony’s father that was drawing him to go back. The main was uncouth, a dirty workie with a high body smell.. Someone that Dave would quickly walk by, but it seemed odd but he found the man had a sexual power and thinking of him standing there with his bare hairy chest had his cock rigid. It was like a magnet but how could he go back. He decided he could make the excuse of returning the HiViz waistcoat and by going back a few hours later he reckoned he was being polite. Shit what would Tony think if he knew that Dave was getting off thinking about his father and wearing the filthy jockstrap.

He knocked on the door at the same time as the previous day and when the door opened Pete just smiled. He was wearing the same HiViz jacket with his hairy chest protruding but this time he was wearing a dirty very stained pair of joggers  which his belly fell over as well as a mud stained pair of rubber boots up to his knees. When the door opened Dave almost had to step back with the smell.

‘I thought you might be back sometime. Sorry about the turn out mate but it’ been a busy day down in sewers. Stinks a bit eh, but you quickly get used to it. Better than any aftershave’ he smirked. He waved Dave it and Dave could see that Pete’s hands were still filthy and probably covered in sewer shit.

‘I just wanted to return your HIViz.’

‘You can keep it. You can always try to wash it and get rid of all the stains. Anyway come in and have a beer.  The kitchen stunk of sewage But to Dave’s surprise the more he smelt it and was repulsed the more he started to take deeper breaths and found his crotch was responding and stiffening under his chinos. ‘Christ how could I like this bloody awful smell ‘he thought ‘but its turning me on.’

‘You told me you don’t smoke but if you have a beer with me you really should have a puff. It helps the stink in here. What say you eh?’

Dave didn’t even consider saying no, he almost instinctively took a ciggie out of Pete’s pack.

‘That’s better, let me light it for you.’

Having never smoked before Dave found he knew exactly what to do and he held the ciggie just like Pete drawing deeply and exhaling a large cloud of smoke.

‘See I told you . All real men smoke mate. Talking about real men, you seemed to have bulked up a bit. I thought you and Tony looked a pair of wimps but today you look better. Perhaps it’s the HiViz waistcoat, ha ha.’

Pete came forward to give Dave a can of beer and standing in front of him at eye level Dave could make out a long line of cock stretching down one side of the joggers. He was clearly commando.

As Dave took his first gulp, with Pete still standing in front of him staring down.

‘So you stole my jockstrap did you?’

Dave almost spat out his mouthful of beer

‘Don’t give me a fucking excuse boy. I left it out knowing full well what you would do. You couldn’t resist it could you, all nice a crusty and yellow stained with my piss. Bet when you got home the first thing you did was have a massive wank eh. Thinking of me wearing it no doubt. You liked the idea of Tony’s dirty workie of a dad wearing it The problem is mate that I ain’t got anything under me joggers so me cock has been bouncing around all day and the more it moves around inside the more horny I become.

As he said this he put one hand down inside his joggers and stroked the full length of his cock moving forward to stand right in front of Dave. As he took his hand out the cock was like a rigid pole tenting outwards and a small stain of precum showed itself through the cotton.

‘Bet you got my jockstrap on now. Admit it.’

‘Er yes.’

‘And bet you love it and don’t want to take it off.’

Dave was silent.

‘Well if you steal something then you have to pay back.’

Dave’s eyes were glued to the crotch with Pete’s erection forming a good 8inch tent. Pete put down his beer and with one hand slipped his hand down his belly and into the joggers, pulling out a massive erect prick. Dave could not believe it, the guy was wearing a thick steel cock ring, making every vein of his shaft stand out almost pulsating. As the cock sprang out so the foreskin was pushed back revealing a large glistening head. The slit of the cock was straight in front of Dave’s face and he could smell the unwashed cock.

‘So you take from me and now you pay back. You love the smell of my piss stained jockstrap so now you can suck the real thing, unwashed and smelling of several days of piss. Don’t think you are just going to lick my tool, you are taking the full length down that throat of yours.’

Dave could smell the rank cock in front of his face but the smell was like an aphrodisiac. It made him so horny and he knew the only thing he now wanted was to have the massive cock all the way down his throat

‘What are you fucking looking at. You don’t give blowjob just looking boy.’

Pete grabbed hold of Dave’s hair and pulled him in. For a moment Dave almost gagged at the smell but at the same time he wanted to savour the stench of the cock before swallowing it down his throat.

‘I want you to take the whole throbbing fucking length of my dick so your mouth is pressed up against my cock ring and you can taste the metal.’ With his free hand Pete wrapped his dirty hand around his shaft and pushed it to force Dave’s mouth open.

‘That’s it boy take my fucking stinking cock. Open yer mouth nice and wide.

As Dave opened his lips he felt the precum tip of cock force its way into his mouth and the smell of piss rode up through his nostrils. The more he smelt the piss the wider his mouth opened. 

Pete still held tight Dave’s hair pushing his head further and further up to take more and more of the throbbing shaft.

‘You love my cock don’t you. Wonder what Tony would think of you gagging to give his father a blow job. Not such a prissy boy now are you taking a workie’s dirty cock all the way down yer throat.’

Dave let his saliva work overtime to allow the cock to sink further and further into his throat.

The idea of sucking off Tony’s father was even more of a turn on. By now Dave’s cock was sore it was so hard in the jockstrap but he was so engaged in sucking he could not unzip himself.

‘Don’t even think of wanking yerself. I want all your concentration on my big cock.

‘That’s good boy I can feel my prick sliding down the back of your throat.. Nice and big for you. Not really a pay back though as you are loving it. Now I can see your lips touching my cockring. Feel the metal pushing against you and now you have the full length and can feel my precum slipping down inside you. It’s time to thrust this dick up and down inside that throat of yours.’

Dave did not need to be told what to do. With his mouth fully into Pete’s thick hairy bush, the piss smell ran through his body down to his own cock and the jockstrap was nearly ready to burst inside him. Pete took hold of Dave’s head with both hands and gripping him he started to move his prick back and forth at first slowly so he could savour Dave’s spit around his shaft.

‘You fucking know how to suck. Bet you have only ever sucked a boy off before but now you are giving a good workie blowjob. Keep your spit going boy as I love pumping you.’

Pete pushed in and out with greater speed taking his head almost to the edge of Dave’s lips so he could feel his helmet ridge on the point of coming out and then he rammed back in right up to his pubes. Faster and faster he pumped and the more he pumped the more Dave wanted.. 

‘Shit boy you are fucking great I am ready to fucking explode.’

With that Pete withdrew his cock grabbing his spit covered shaft and shed his thick white creamy cum over Dave’s face and down the front of his T shirt.

‘That’s it boy lick it all up around your face.’ 

Dave could feel the cum dripping down his chin onto his shirt. 

Having all the cum over him was too much for Dave’s cock and he exploded his load into Pete’s jockstrap the cum oozing out through the cotton and through his chinos forming a large stain in his groin.

‘Fucking great. That’s what I call a blowjob.’ Pete said and looking down at Dave and saw the large cum stain on his chinos.

‘Looks as if you enjoyed it too mate. You can’t go home looking like that all my cum on your shirt and now that nice big stain on your trousers.’

Strip off and I’ll get you something to go home in. But keep my jockstrap on as a minder as you obviously love it.’

Pete came back in with a Hi Viz short sleeved shirt and a pair of De Walt  grey workgear trousers , both covered in mud and grease marks.

They ain’t clean but at least better that all that cum. Go on and the get the fuck out of here and you can take a can of beer and this pack of ciggies with you.’

As Dave put on the gear thrown at him he could smell how much they had been used and it was as if they had been down the sewers with Pete. For a second Dave thought it would be better to wear his own gear but the smell of what he had been given was good and made him feel more like a man.

Pete looked at him. ‘They look for now as if they are a bit big but don’t worry about that. Keep the Hi viz waistcoat, tell you what, you are looking a bit more like a workie. So why don’t you come a see me at work and see that you think. It’s in Bank Street and you will see the portacabin. Come later tomorrow afternoon. OK?’

It seemed more of a command to Dave rather than something to consider. Besides, that had been the best blowjob ever and even now Dave could still smell the man’s cum as well as his piss and now the sewage smell of the borrowed clothes

‘I’ll bring this gear back to you.’

‘That’s up to you. So now get off I need a few beers after this.’

When Dave got home  the first thing he did was open the beer and slurp it down. There were 5 ciggies left in the packet Pete had given him. He was desperate to smoke them all just the way Pete had done. He hoped by smoking them all his hands would look covered in nicotine, just like Pete. He now loved puffing. Why the fuck had he never smoked before. In all the workie gear it seemed only natural to smoke, right down to the tip. He had decided to keep the clothes on when he went to bed. He wanted to feel  the Hiviz against his skin and he liked the smell of the gear he had been given. The clothes did seem a bit large but so what? The next morning he work up and the smell hit him. It felt great and when he got out of bed to look at himself he could not believe it, the clothes were no longer big but a snug fit, the yellow HiViz shirt was tight against his chest showing off a true 6 pack, the arms were bulging with muscles. He looked at the De Walt trousers. They were no longer too long but he seemed to have grown 4 inches and were now nice a tight around his crotch showing a decent bulge. He was almost looking like a workie but his hair was still that floppy fringe though he thought he seemed to have a darker heavier growth around his face. When he went to piss and opened up his flies to take his cock out from the jockstrap it seemed so tight in the jockstrap. The first thing to hit him was the rancid smell of piss and cum and then as he flipped his cock out to pee his cock was now thicker, really thick where it jutted out of his now dark really hairy pubes with a long foreskin sliding over his helmet.

‘Fuck’ he said ‘this looks a whopper. A real workie cock’

After breakfast we knew there was a place he needed to go to. The barbers. He chose a place he knew was frequented by the local workies having seen then sitting waiting for a cut with all their Hiviz gear on. There were a couple of guys being cut when he went in all in their HiViz They looked round and one said.

‘You’ve been down a fucking sewer mate. Doing a real dirty job eh.?’

Dave just smiled and sat down. One guy was then finished and left so Dave sat in the chair. The barber said

‘So what do you want?’

The other workie said “Get rid of that stupid long hair for a start’

Dave knew what to say. ‘I want you to take a razor to the sides and then cut the top to give me a full chav cut with a really short straight cut across the forehead.’

‘That’s it mate give him a real chav cut . Then he will start to look like a workie.’

The barber took the razor and gave a number one cut going on to give a real pudding bowl cut to his top.

Even the barber said, ‘That’s better mate I think we all agree this suits your clothing and as you are a workie then you need to look like one.’

The other workie got out the chair and leant over to whisper into Dave’s ear.

‘Great bod you go there mate Would like to see a bit more of that sometime. You could do with a few tats. I go to a place just right for a new boy. Gimme yer phone and I’ll give you my number. Us workies need to stick together.’

Dave handed his phone over as the guy typed in his number. As he did Dave looked at the guys crotch which had a good bulge showing in his Hi Viz.

As the guy handed back the phone he again whispered

‘I see what yer looking at. You won’t be disappointed. By the way I like yer smell a real turn on for us workies.’ And with that he paid and left the shop.

The barber smiled as he finished Dave off .’Think you have made a conquest there. That’s what a good chav haircut has done for you.’

Dave looked in the mirror, with his chav haircut and those muscles he really did look like a workie. Gone was the prissy student. He now wanted to go and show his friend’s father his new look so walked down to Bank Street and saw the portacabin door open.

Looking inside he saw Pete sitting at a desk who looked up and spluttered

‘Christ what a change in you boy. Thank fucking Christ you are now looking the part. A real little chavvy workie eh. See those rubber boots over there put them on. They are nice a dirty but that won’t matter when I take you down into the sewer. Also put the hard hat on, need to be safe. I’ll put a torch on mine so lets go. Dave caught sight of himself with the full kit on and with such a covering of mud on his clothes and the hard hat he could hardly believe the change.

Pete opened up the manhole and told Dave to climb down the ladder into the bottom tunnel. Once both were down Pete switched on the torch. The first thing Dave was aware off was the smell but it was only a stronger version of how he smelt. He breathed it in and found his cock starting to rise.

‘Like the smell now don’t you ‘Pete said. ‘Turns me on every time I am down here.’

Before Dave could reply Pete grabbed hold of Dave and spun him round pressing him up against the wall of the tunnel. Leaning in against Dave’s back Pete whispered in his ear. ‘You and I have some unfinished business. Its payback time again. First you steal my jockstrap but now you owe me for making you a man and Christ you now look fucking horny. And don’t tell me that having my dirty cock down yer throat you don’t want it up that nice bubble butt of yours. I know the idea of being fucked in a sewer by a real man turns you on.’

Pete took his big rough hands and let them ride over Dave’s cheeks and then placing his hands around Dave’s waist unbuttoned the workgear trousers pulling them down to his knees. Dave was now unable to move

‘I wanna fuck you with the jockstrap on, my jockstrap. Now stick that nice arse of your out to take my prick. ‘

As Dave did as commanded so Pete undid his flies and flipped his sweaty cock out letting a large godbof spit onto the shaft

‘I’m nice and sweaty after working down here today and you can feel that stick of my dick going right up to the hilt in yer arse.’

Dave now only wanted to be fucked Since giving Pete the blowjob he knew that he had to be fucked by this monster tool. Shit what could be better that being fucked in a sewer by his best friend’s father.

‘Go gentle will you please.’

‘That arse of yours could take a baseball bat so quit the pathetic tone with me. You had my cock rammed in your mouth so you managed that no prob. Then you can take my prick up inside you.’

Dave felt his cheeks being parted as Pete pressed against him. His cock searching for the hole

‘Nice big hole you got there mate. No probs taking my dick or perhaps you’d prefer the baseball bat?’

‘No just let me have your cock. Make me feel like a real workie being fucked.’

Dave could feel the spit on Pete’s head finding the hole and then the push. For a moment he winced as the head found its way into the hole. But once past he was ready for the full length of Pete’s shaft.  As Pete pushed his tool up the hole he put one hand to his mouth releasing a large gob of spit then put his arm around Dave’s head smearing the spit all over his face before wiping the dirt and muck off the wall in front of Dave and wiping that on top of the spit.

‘Now you look like a real dirty workie who has been down the sewer. Your vface all covered in sewer shit and spit. Bet you like the smell of my spit and the muck eh?’ 

‘Sure  it is making me feel like a real workie. Fuck any studies. This is what I want to be a real man always dirty with me beers and ciggies like you and have a good fuck with the lads.’

‘That’s what I knew you wanted as soon as I set eyes on you. Now take my cock right up to the hilt.’

‘Shove as far up as you want, I want to feel your spunk shooting right up my body and now your cock is so far up get my cock out of this jockstrap.’

Pete moved his hand down to Dave’s groin and peeled back the jockstrap to let Dave’s cock spring out. As it did so Pete grabbed hold of the shaft wrapping his hand around the throbbing cock.

‘Shit man you’ve got a good one there. Any workie would be glad to have that rammed up them. Now let me give you a good wank and have you shoot all over the sewer wall.’

As Pete slid his hand up and down the down the shaft so he pushed his own cock in and out with increasing ferocity his cock ring almost vanishing into Dave’s hole. Both men started groaning with pleasure and Pete leant forward to kiss the back of Dave’s neck. One hand was now round Dave’s waist so he could have full hold and the other was wanking faster and faster. He knew from the throbbing that Dave was on the point of orgasm and this made him so horny and ready to cum himself. Dave wiped some more sewer mucj off the wall to smear across his face. He wanted to feel fucking dirty

‘Let it go mate I’m about to shoot my load into that lovely arse of yours .’ Pete shouted

‘Fuck me man let me have every drop of your spunk.’ As Dave thrust his arse out to take in the full length of the cock so he came his spunk spurting out against the sewer wall. Pete unloaded his cum inside Dave making Dave feel as if it would come out his mouth such was the force of spunk.

Pete took his cock out giving a quick wipe before putting it back into his joggers.

‘No point is washing it mate. Smells better this way. As for you, cover that smeared cock of yours with the jockstrap and make it even more crusty

So Workie Dave, happy now?’

‘Too fucking right, this is the real me , a man and fucking workie. Give me all the dirty jobs. Who wants to wash when you can stink like this. Being fucked by my best mate’s father was awesome.’

‘Tell you what boy, why don’t you ask Tony to come home. You and I can have some fun and make a man out of him. That would be a turn on eh? Tony you and feel sucking and fucking.’

‘Fucking amazing’ Dave replied ‘ I’ve always wanted to get my cock up his arse.’

Dave then took his phone out of his pocket.

‘Being a workie sure gets the pick ups from the other guys. This real hot workie gave me his number and I reckon now my cock would love a good fuck and his bod looked just right. Plus he said he’d take me to his tattoo place. Can’t be a workie without a good few tats, just like you. Shit man give me a ciggie’ 

Handing over his packet Pete said

‘Well make sure we keep your workie gear on when you meet the guy’

‘Is there any other way to fuck?’

[the-summ0ning]

Sleep Token HC: being in a relationship with II

This took longer than I wanted, also got extremely carried away w this one. I have a soft spot for II 🥹 usual NSFW ELEMENTS, fluffy nonsense, not proofread well

Our sweet quiet short king…until he’s comfy then he becomes a certified yapper.

II the bf that had to keep you informed and make you the first to know everything

New brand deal with his favorite drum company? He’s FaceTiming, grinning ear to ear and his eyes the brightest crystalline blue. “Babe, I’m so fuckin’ excited! They even sent me a sick PR package!”

He finally pranked Vessel back? Oh he’s recording the whole ordeal and it’s going to you first, listening to his quiet excited diabolical giggles in the video

His favorite drummer followed him back on instagram? He barreling into your room, and lying right on top of you to show you

A text message of the sandwich he had for lunch? Nothing was off limits

Especially late at night, when he was thinking about you on tour, keeping quiet in his bunk on the bus. Sending you pictures and videos palming himself, teasing you.

“Sweet thing, I need u so badly. Look how hard I am for u. 😕”

II the bf that ties your shoes for you, bending on one knee making you put your foot on his thigh

And if no one was looking would press a soft kiss to your ankle or the side of your inner knee. The sweet gesture wasn’t as always innocent as it seemed when his fingers would lightly graze your calf as he did so

I’m sorry I just see II clingy… so physical touch and quality time would be his top two love languages

Always needing to have a hand on your lower back leading you through crowds or hands/pinkies intertwined, arm around your shoulder

It helps him more than anything than a ‘I wanna lay the pda on heavy’ type thing. You made him at ease during social settings if he could be touching you even if just the littlest brush of your skin on him

hand on your thigh at the table during dinner sometimes testing his limits and bringing it further up your inner thigh delighted by watching you squirm

His phone background would be a picture of the two of you during rehearsal, you sitting in his lap at his drum set and his hands holding yours attempting to teach you a song. moments after that pic was taken vessel pouted that II never did that with him

He loved laying on top of you scrolling on his phone or watching tv, because you would start absentmindedly rubbing his shoulders (which were almost always tense from drumming)

II would enjoy any time he could afford with you

Whether that be an hour out together going to browse a vintage antique store and grabbing coffee before a studio session

If you had free time to go to one of his drum shoots with him and then get dinner and drinks after

He would have a triangle, symbols, cowbell, tambourine—maybe even a microphone, so you could join his jam sessions when he would practice at home

He ends up getting distracted by how cute and silly you look trying to play a cow bell to a beat of their song every time or singing along lost in your own world

II the bf that would use pre show jitters just have an excuse to have you in his grasp

Bending you over the sink in the green room bathroom, pounding deep inside inside you relentlessly. Him putting his hand over your mouth, “don’t want anyone to hear us, right darling?”

Then afterwards snatching your underwear and shove them in his pocket. “Need a good luck charm.” He winks cheekily before leaving.

Also very into spanking and being rough with you…

Loves seeing his handprint on your ass, always making sure to massage and pepper kisses to it afterwards

I believe this man would have your initials tatted on him somewhere



Just want to thank everyone for liking III and IV HCs, I hope you like II’s!!! If you want to request any HCs or just to chit chat my inbox is always open 🤭🫶🏻

[roguishcat]

Astarion x Tav Prompt! (for the 200 follower celebration)

Astarion tailoring Tavs clothes before they reach the big city.

Some sensory ideas: rough linen, crackling warm campfire, fingers caressing skin, crisp autumn air, sounds of skin against fabric, soft sighs or humming

Thank you so much for the ask! I love reading tailor Astarion stories, so this is my humble attempt at writing one. Hope you like it! 💕

This is set in Act II, soon after the tiefling party.

Pairing: Astarion x unnamed female Tav

Word count: 2.4k

Part of his plan

To Astarion their relationship was a transaction. A little tit for tat. Because this was what 200 years of servitude taught him. Nothing was ever given for free. Nothing came without a price. And usually it was not worth the pain or the effort anyway.

But when it came to Tav, Astarion found himself trying to make more of an effort to stay in her good graces. Not because he cared about her as such. But he didn’t find the thought of spending time with her, travelling alongside her, even sharing her bedroll as distasteful as with anyone else. Perhaps because she foolishly put others before herself. Perhaps it was her treating him with respect and kindness. But her being nice made him want… to be nice back. Just to make sure that their leader was well and truly smitten, of course.

That evening as Tav changed out of her armour to offer her neck to him, Astarion’s eyes fell to the rather obvious tear in her shirt. She noticed him look and flushed.

“I was going to take care of that yesterday but felt so tired that I just kind of decided to leave it,” she mumbled, pulling at the fabric awkwardly.

She scurried out of his tent and into her own before he could reply. Astarion felt his lips quirk into a smile. Now this was just the opportunity to make himself useful in their leader’s eyes that he was looking for!

He had already bedded Tav and although the experience was hardly unpleasant, he didn’t look forward to using his body over and over just to secure his place by her side. Therefore, making himself so much a part of her life that she felt that he was indispensable to her was crucial in keeping her interested.

Thus assured that he was once again right and everything was going according to his plan, Astarion grabbed his sewing kit and walked confidently in the direction of Tav’s tent.

“Darling, how about I-”

Tav looked up and Astarion was rendered speechless when he looked at her handywork. Only gods knew how she managed to create the monstrosity in her hands in such a short time. And where on earth did she even get thread of such toxic, garish colour?

Tav blushed a rather fetching shade of red and lowered her eyes.

“I suppose I made it worse, haven’t I?” she whispered, clearly embarrassed at being so terrible at something as basic as fixing a simple tear.

“Well… This isn’t the best needlework that I’ve seen, admittedly. But I am certain that it isn’t the worst either.”

The large, uneven stitches were quite remarkable, in their own way.

“How about I take over from here. I’m sure that we can salvage this,” he gently pried the shirt out of her hands and clicked his tongue as he lifted it closer to his eyes.

“I suppose this will take me a little longer than initially anticipated, seeing as I have to undo your fine effort first, but I will certainly finish it come morning.”

Astarion made a move to rise but felt a hand grasp his sleeve.

“You could stay here, if you wanted,” she suggested, making him freeze.

Truth be told, staying here was the last thing that he wanted to do. It was too intimate. Him staying could be misinterpreted as him wanting to engage in certain activities. And sex was the last thing currently on his mind.

“And have you miss out on the chance to catch up on some beauty sleep? How villainous would that be!” he joked, trying to extricate himself without making it too obvious that he wanted to leave.

“Then I could sit out by the campfire with you. I mean, if you want…” she trailed off, suddenly feeling silly, “we could talk.”

“Talk?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“I would like to get to know you more. Learn more about you, if you allow it.”

Talk. Yes, just like people did when they spent any amount of time around each other. He supposed that knocking boots was not enough for someone like Tav, someone who was… sweet.

Astarion supposed he could be forgiven for jumping to the conclusion that her asking to stay was asking for sex. He met few people who wanted him for his conversation skills. Most wanted to bed him, some wanted to spend time with him afterwards. He could recall hardly any who actually seemed to care for him or his past. And one of these people was sitting in her undershirt and waiting for him to make a decision. Always so patient with him, always treating him with such respect.

“Alright, why not,” he conceded, feeling his shoulders relax a touch now that he knew that she was not expecting him to perform. “Seeing as a night of passion is off the table and there is plenty of time until sunrise, I might enjoy this- this getting to know each other better idea. Though you may want to put something on, the night is quite chilly.”

Unfortunately, Tav had little else to wear. Seeing as others were always a priority, she purchased very few things for herself. Astarion rolled his eyes as he saw her eyeing her armour with uncertainty.

“Here,” he pulled his shirt off and handed it to her. “Whilst I may be all but immune to the elements, it wouldn’t do for our leader to be bested by a common cold.”

She hesitated briefly before taking the shirt and slipping it on. It smelled like Astarion, bergamot, rosemary and something else. Something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on but didn’t want to ask.

They walked out of her tent and Astarion took a seat near the campfire.

“So how should we go about it, dearest?” he asked without looking in her direction, but rather focusing on trying to minimize the damage that she did to her clothes.

Honestly, had no one taught her to sew? This work was worse than anything done by the other spawn even in their early days!

“How about… a question for a question?” she suggested, taking a seat beside him.

“Is anything off limits? Are you truly prepared for everything that you might uncover?” he teased, squinting a little as he used the sharp, pointy edge of scissors to carefully unpick her terrible stitches. “Us big city folk come with our terrible, depraved secrets.”

Ah, a blush for his efforts. Familiar territory.

“I can’t say what is off limits,” Tav said, playing with the collar and the ruffles of his shirt with her long, nervous fingers. “How about you are allowed not to answer any one question of your choosing?”

“Seems reasonable,” he shrugged, finally getting the thread that she used to cooperate and pulling on it until the fabric was no longer bunched awkwardly.

“What is your favourite colour?”

How uninspired. Honestly, were they children?

“I assumed it was blue,” she went on. “Your underwear is blue. And you seem to favour the blue dye, when you have a choice.”

“Observant, are we?” he chuckled. “Just how long has it been since I’ve piqued your interest? And yes, this is not a rhetorical question. I do expect an answer.”

“I guess… When you opened the doors on the bugbear and the ogre.”

“Oh? How scandalous of you to find that appealing! Did that get you excited?” he elbowed her gently, finding to his surprise that he was rather enjoying the light tone of the conversation.

“No,” Tav laughed, “but it was the first time you smiled. A real, proper smile. That image stayed with me for a long time. And got me wondering… what is beneath the polished look and practiced mannerisms?”

If Astarion had actually fed on her and any blood coursing through him at this moment, he was quite sure that he would have blushed.

He cleared his throat, “I believe it’s your turn to ask.”

She nodded, but didn’t ask him anything immediately, content to simply watch him for a while. The work of his dexterous fingers was such a contrast to her clumsy, inexperienced movements. Tav knew that she was way out of her depth when it came to Astarion and didn’t think that she would be able to figure him out even if she tried. Which is why she looked for an excuse to talk to him without others being around, wanting to get to know him better. But every time she tried to have a genuine conversation with him in the past, his expression would shutter, and he would give her some tired, clearly practiced lines. And perhaps it was foolish of her, but Tav felt she wanted to get to know him. To really know him.

 “What makes you happy? And I mean apart from walking in on freaky sex.”

“Tsk, I was going to say just that, actually. Took the words right out of my mouth, you cheeky pup.”

In truth, he was not really sure how to answer that. Happiness has not been part of the equation for over two centuries. Survival and prevailing against all odds. That was all that he was concerned with.

“I’m not exactly sure,” he finally admitted with a frown. “Drinking your blood makes me feel… strong. Powerful. Free. I am not sure what it means  to be happy in your books, but I believe this is it for me.”

He took a furtive look at her from underneath his lashes and was taken aback a little by the genuine, warm expression on her face. By the gods! Who did that? Who actually went around looking at people like that? No one did, in his experience.

“I hope you find more things that make you happy,” Tav said earnestly, giving his shoulder a light squeeze.

“Well, the pleasure of your company definitely tops that list,” he cleared his throat and moved away a little, feeling uncomfortable at the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest. Whatever it was.

“Well, of course! But I mean inconsequential nothings. Something that will make you smile. Something that will make you look forward to tomorrow.”

“And what makes you happy, Tav, hm? Seeing as you are the expert on the matter?”

To his surprise, he actually found that he wanted to know the answer.

“Well, it’s nothing unusual. Seeing people I care about being happy. Being helpful. Seeing families reunited.”

“Tsk, you are no fun!”  Astarion clicked his tongue in annoyance. “And here I was, actually answering your questions properly and what do I get in return? A cookie-cutter hero ‘I live to serve’ answer. Give me a break,” he scoffed.

“You don’t believe that people can help others just because?” Tav tossed several sticks into the campfire, the flames rising to lick the dry wood hungrily.

“No,” he said firmly, with conviction. “Not in my experience.”

He took a deep breath that he did not need, more for effect than out of necessity. “People are cruel, vile and everything is done for gain and nothing else.”

“You don’t mean that,” Tav looked down at her knees, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“Oh, but I do. My sweet, sweet friend. Kindness gets people tortured. Kindness gets people killed. Kindness is the root of all trouble and you will be better off if you realise this sooner rather than later-” he stopped himself abruptly when he realised that he almost shouted that last part.

They fell silent, the crackling of the fire loud in the stillness.

“I’m sorry you feel this way,” she finally said.

“It is the truth.”

Astarion did not have to look at Tav to know that she disagreed. It didn’t matter. Their experiences were too different. They were too different. She probably was a nice girl from a small town in the middle of nowhere where neighbors were friends, and every day ended with a lovely sunset over the fields. At least that was what Astarion imagined when he thought about Tav’s home. He never actually bothered to ask. Come to think of it, none of them asked Tav about her past. Although they all seemed to be eager enough to have her help them on their personal quests, they actually knew very little about her.

“Goodness me, we seemed to have gotten carried away with that lively discussion,” he cleared his throat, realising that he was silent far too long. “Your shirt is almost fixed, so one last question.”

“Of course,” she stretched, fighting back a yawn.

“The scars on your side,” he noticed that Tav immediately moved to cover them up, pulling his shirt down with a jerk. “How did you get them?”

He had noticed them before, the night of the party. But he didn’t really care to ask then. Astarion out of all people knew that scars could tell quite a story. Cazador told him that his were a poem, but he was determined to find out exactly what it was that that bastard carved into his skin.

Astarion was a little taken aback when Tav’s demeanor changed, the expression turning bitter for the briefest moment before she caught herself. When she turned to look at him, her smile was as pleasant as any she would usually give him.

“Ah. I believe this is the question I will choose not to answer. At least not tonight. Thank you for my shirt and for talking to me. I enjoyed getting to know you a little better. Goodnight.”

“Sleep well, my dear,” he handed her the mended shirt, watching her walk away from the campfire without another word.

Well, perhaps there was more to their fearless leader after all. There was definitely a secret, something that she did not want to be uncovered just yet. And that piqued his interest. Perhaps a glass of wine or two would loosen her tongue next time they decided to meet for a chat.

Astarion scowled. Him finding talking to Tav pleasant and them bonding was not part of the plan. On the contrary, any sort of relationship was a hindrance.

The vampire rose soundlessly and looked into the woods. Perhaps a hunt to clear his head would do him good. If anything, it would take his mind off Tav. Because whatever was happening between them had to remain a transaction. And it would be prudent not to forget that even for a moment.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900,

@ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

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[eggluverz]

DRAGONS AND DAFFODILS

PAIRING. tattoo artist!dan heng x gn!reader

WORD COUNT. 1,438

WARNINGS. 16+, slightly suggestive content? nothing explicit  

SUMMARY. you impulsively walk into a tattoo shop, see a gorgeous man with blue eyes and a dragon tattoo along his arm, and immediately decide you need to get a tattoo from him now. 

SOF’S NOTE. been wanting to get another tattoo so this is a random drabble that stemmed from that HDKAKFH hope y’all enjoy this lil au :> lets drool over tatted dan heng together <3 

It wasn't your first tattoo, but just from walking in here, you knew it’d certainly be your most memorable. 

You weren’t normally one to impulsively head into a tattoo shop and ask if they took walk-ins, but it was a random Friday night and this place happened to catch your eye as you were on your way home. The moment you walked inside, you instantly saw a gorgeous man with dark hair and a dragon tattoo and new you had come to the right place. 

“Are you nervous?” he asked, glancing at the expression on your face as he wiped down the area of your upper thigh that he was about to work on.

You nodded. “A little.” But most likely not for the reasons he was thinking.

The man, who introduced himself as Dan Heng, gave you a comforting smile. It was charming enough to make your stomach flutter ever so slightly. You were definitely just a tad bit nervous. But it was more because of the pretty man giving you the tattoo, not the prospect of the tattoo itself.

“If you’re nervous, just know you can always ask for a break or have me slow down,” promised Dan Heng, giving you a gentle squeeze on your leg. “Remember, you control the pace here.”

You weren’t quite sure how you managed not to flush at his words and somehow articulated a coherent response. 

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” you said, a smile on your face disguising your inner turmoil. He was so gentle, yet firm. Confident, but quiet. While you knew it was only a tattoo you were getting, you couldn’t help but fantasize a little. 

Dan Heng hummed in response, transferring his design onto your thigh with the thermal stencil paper in the placement he viewed best. He took a step back and nodded, then gestured for you to stand in front of the mirror. 

“How is the placement?”

You shifted around and admired his line art on your body. Even though it was just the stencil so far and not the finished product, you could already tell it would look even better than you asked for. “Perfect!”

Bouncing in excitement, you made your way back to the tattoo bed and Dan Heng got his needles and ink ready. 

“You seem less nervous now,” he commented with a laugh, noticing the way you rushed over to get back into position for him to tattoo you. 

You grinned sheepishly. “I guess seeing your design on me took the nerves away. Now I’m just excited!”

“I am glad to hear that.” 

He held the tattoo pen in one hand and grabbed a clean cloth to wipe the excess ink. Soon, Dan Heng began the process. His gloved hand held your thigh firmly in place as the other began to work its magic. You stared at the gorgeous art on his arm to attempt to distract yourself from the inevitable pain and slight discomfort. 

True to his word, he checked up on you often, asking if you needed him to slow down, and obliging when you asked for a small break. He got you some water and snacks as you propped yourself up on the tattoo bed for a small breather. 

“We are almost done,” he promised, staring at the area just below your hip as he admired his work. “You’re doing so good.” 

Your cheeks heated up at his compliment. While you have gotten tattoos before, you have never been praised like this by a tattoo artist. You wondered if he was like this to all his clients. 

It was wishful thinking, but part of you hoped he wasn’t. 

“So, does your tattoo hold any sort of meaning?” you asked, admiring the black and green inks of the long dragon as you took a sip of your drink. 

He chuckled. “Which one?” Dan Heng pulled the black short sleeve of his shirt up to show you the full face on his shoulder and back. “If you’re talking about the dragon, then yes, I suppose it does.” 

You blinked at him a few times, urging him to go on. 

Dan Heng smiled and continued, “In Chinese culture, different colored dragons symbolize different things.” 

Nodding, you eyed the blue and green hues along the serpentine body of the dragon. 

“This in particular represents new life— That spring is coming.” He ran a finger down the length of his tattoo, drawing your eyes to the curvature of his arm muscles. “I’m particularly fond of the idea of new beginnings. As if we don’t need to be held back by our pasts.” 

Though he didn’t elaborate, he had already opened up so much with just those words. You were grateful for this moment of vulnerability and connection, regardless on whether or not it was with a stranger you had just met. 

“And does the tattoo you’re getting today mean something special to you?” asked Dan Heng, watching as you laid back down and exposed your upper thigh to him, preparing to continue the session. For a second too long his eyes travelled along the length of your legs, lingering on the smooth expanse of skin before turning his attention to the unfinished tattoo. 

You smirked to yourself, purposely shifting the position of your leg to draw his attention back to it. As you predicted, Dan Heng’s gaze followed. 

After a moment, you considered his question. While you didn’t come into the tattoo shop with a design in mind that symbolized something important to you, you felt that all tattoos were special because of the story around it.

“Not particularly,” you admitted, glancing at the beginnings of a beautifully drawn bundle of daffodils. “I mean, I’m aware of the symbolism that accompanies this flower, of course— Rebirth and new beginnings.” You smiled cheekily. “Uncannily similar to yours, but completely unintentional. I promise you that.”

He returned your smile with an amused look of his own. “A fateful coincidence, perhaps.”

“Exactly!” you laughed. “Still, the symbolism is not why I wanted it. I just think the flower is pretty and, ultimately, it does represent something I wouldn’t regret having drawn permanently on my body.” It was a simply thought, really. You thought the meanings behind people’s tattoos were sacred and special, but sometimes there was nothing more to it. And that was a good enough reason to get a tattoo as well. “But I will definitely always look back and remember the story of our first encounter whenever I see it.” 

Dan Heng nodded, gloves back on as his hand rested on your thigh. “I find the experience of receiving a tattoo can, at times, be as significant as the intended meaning behind it.” 

“I agree,” you said, wishing his gloves were off so you could feel the tips of his fingers against your bare skin instead. “And this will certainly be an experience I’ll never forget.”

“Good.” He smiled secretively, as if he could see right through your inner thoughts. Almost teasingly, he softly kneaded your thigh in a small, circular motion. “I won’t forget, either.” There was a sincerity in his tone that made you fully believe what he said. “Now, are you ready to continue?” 

You nodded eagerly, already thinking of how pretty the finished outcome would look. “Yes, please!”

Putting all his focus into his art, Dan Heng turned on his tattoo gun and resumed inking your hip and thigh area. With soft and delicate strokes, he created a piece with body and movement. The petals were moving, not stagnant, and he wasn’t even fully finished.

“You should be my last client for the night,” he said quietly as he worked on his final touches, breaking the deep silence that settled between you. For a brief moment, Dan Heng looked up from his craft to meet your gaze. “After this, perhaps we could talk more over a late night food run?”

Your eyes widened, not expecting his sudden offer, but ecstatic nonetheless. You smiled as you said, “If I say yes, will you tell me more about your tattoos?” 

He nodded. “Whatever you want to know.”

“I want to learn it all.” Your gaze roamed all over his body, lingering on the toned biceps of his arms, meticulously adorned with the length of the dragon, before landing on the defined muscles of his chest hidden behind his shirt. 

With a knowing smile, Dan Heng seemed to understand the hidden implications behind your innocent words. His heavy-lidded eyes seemed to examine all parts of your body, only returning the favor. 

“I’m due time,” he promised, “you'll learn everything there is to know.”

[sweetyluvs]

imagine ellie getting ur name tatted on her opposite forearm hehehe i need her so bad it’s never been funny

I LOVE THISSS I think she'd be so impulsive and so cocky LOL

ellie woke up on a Tuesday morning with a mischivies grin on her face. She'd fucked you stupid the night before- almost confident you'd sleep for the next 12 hours and try to stand up for another 12. Her green eyes flickered to you when she woke up, slipping out of bed and throwing some random clothes on she wasn't even sure were hers- grabbing her wallet and keys and heading out. The ride to the tattoo shop was filled with Tyler, The Creator and Lana del rey blasting through her cars windows until the familiar stop came to view; tats for t!ts & sh!t.

Honestly, ellie herself didn't even know how they got away with that name. I mean, maybe the exclamation points helped their cause, but not that much. she parked her jeep and hopped out, wallet in hand as the bell rang to announce her arrival. Let's just say she took a moment to decide the tattoo- or, well, what it looked like. As she sat on the chair, a slick smirk was on her lips as she thought about your reaction. "ready?" the tattoo artist, Cat, asked. "hell yeah."

You woke up with a prolonged yawn, stretching in that way that felt just so good. You went to cuddle against ellie to find that she wasn't there. Your brows furrowed, pushing yourself off the mattress and gasping at the pain in your.... 'hips'. you sigh, struggling for a good 10 minutes trying to get out of bed without breaking your body. You successfully ended up doing so, walking to the living room and hearing the sound of star wars faintly from the TV. it got louder as you approached, "luke, I am your father." you heard a gasp from ellie, even though she's seen the movie probably 100 times. "nooooo!" luke screamed, and you walked in just in time to see her left forearm.. wrapped in Tattoo protection. what the fuck did you miss?

"ellie?" you ask, confused. her eyes snap to you, "Oh, hey babe." she said, placing the ice cream she had down in the table beside the couch side. "sleep well?" she smirked, and you rolled your eyes, nodding. "yeah.." you trailed your view back down to her arm. "what the fuck did you do?" you sigh. the smirk that engulfed her face almost made you want to punch her. god, it was gonna be that luke skywalker tattoo she'd been going on and on about, wasn't it?

You approached her, watching as she delicately unwrapped her bare arm. Your eyes widened with surprise when it was revealed. It was a strangely beautiful tattoo of your name. Your heart beat soundly, genuinely touched by it, "oh, ellie. it's beautiful." you smiled... until you saw what was beside it. The luke skywalker tattoo and a pair of your breasts. how do you know? you just do. "ellie! what the fuck!"

[pidgeonishome]

I think we need to stop making our favorite characters so cool- I love Sirius in tats and leather jackets and cool, sarcastic Remus- but one of them spent 12 years in a prison that eats your soul/happiness and more than that in a really abusive home and the other turns into a literal creature every month!!

Maybe I’ve spent too long on foursaints’ blog (I have) but, in my head, there’s no way they come out of that without being a little twitchy. Where are the fics where Sirius talks to himself out of habit from all the time he spent locked up alone (both in his childhood and Azkaban) and Remus randomly goes off into space in the middle of conversations.

Hell, have some fun with it: maybe Sirius talks shit about people to himself whenever he’s annoyed and they’re too freaked out by it to call him on it and sort of just sit there let it happen (eventually Sirius catches on to this and starts doing it on purpose). Let Remus zoom back into a conversation and go “Sorry, was just thinking about whether snakes can get arthritis”

Let them freak people out!!!

And why stop there? For how dreamy we say Pandora is, why isn’t she a maladaptive daydreamer? She would love living in a world of her creation where literally anything is possible. Give me Peter who makes weird jokes that people don’t get because the only friend he had growing up was James who already knew all his inside jokes and thought process, give me James who cries all the time and tells people EXACTLY what he thinks (not just the nice version) because he was always raised to be honest and no one ever made him feel bad for being himself

Let them be weird- sure the marauders were popular at some point but it’s definitely not like the whole school would’ve revered a bunch of 11 year-olds, maybe they were weird at first and then they grew up as they got used to other people. Maybe they were popular because they were a little weird, I mean, no one got famous being exactly like everyone else. They were pranksters? Well, madness and genius go hand-in-hand

More on this later because I won’t stop until everyone is as awkward as I am