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buckysimp101 · 2 years ago

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Everything the Light Touches (18+)- Chapter Eighteen

Mafia!Bucky x F!Reader

chapter warnings: fluff, angst, violence

Series Masterlist

Bucky’s lips were tingling. Fucking tingling from that kiss in front of his family and friends. A part of him had almost forgotten what it was like to kiss you, your last one having been only a week ago. But he hadn’t forgotten what it was like to hold you in his arms. The warmth of your body against his days ago when you’d thrown yourself into his arms, wrapped him into your embrace to thank him for getting Wanda to you in time for the wedding.

Ever since the combination bachelor and bachelorette party, Bucky’s brain had been in a fog, one that hadn’t seemed to lift until the doors opened to reveal you in a white dress on the arm of Tony Stark, making your way down the aisle towards him. There was a part of Bucky that was so thrilled to see you, a part of him that preened at the fact that his lifelong dreams, that he’d long since deemed unattainable, had come true. But those hopes and feelings were doused with a cool bucket of guilt and regret as he remembered everything that had led the two of you to this moment.

So he offered you a small smile, held your hand when he was supposed to and slid that ring onto your finger before pressing a kiss onto your lips, hoping they’d be able to provide all the words he couldn’t say, publicly claiming you in front of the world. You’d both walked away from the altar in a daze and it wasn’t until the photographer began gathering your friends around for pictures that either of you spoke.

“James…are you okay?” You breathed the words, almost as if you were afraid to hear the answer. And for once in his life, Bucky was completely unsure of how to respond. So he said and did the first thing that he could think of. He slid his hand to yours and intertwined your fingers before whispering.

“I am so sorry, sweet girl.”

He heard the hitch in your breathing and dared to look at your eyes, the tears swimming there as you took in your husband and he took in his wife.

His wife.

A dream that was made possible by everything going to absolute shit. A dream that would swiftly become a nightmare.

He raised his thumb to lightly wipe away the tears that had formed on your lashes and he thought he felt your body relax into his, if only a little bit, before he turned back around.

“Thank you, Bucky. For saving my life. I don’t believe I’ve thanked you for that yet. I’ve blamed you. Time and time again. For more years than I care to count. But I know you’re putting your life on the line to save me too and I just…needed you to know that.”

Your words were soft but intentional and Bucky could practically feel the emotion oozing out of your words. But he couldn’t respond. Couldn’t reply. A part of Bucky that knew you well, and had always known you, kept him quiet but urged him to hold your hand and give you a comforting squeeze before the pair of you were swept up in the craziness of the wedding reception before you.

Tony was the first of the family to approach the two of you and as he approached Bucky with fire and fury blazing in his eyes he stuck out his hand, Bucky accepting, and whispered with an intensity that would put Natasha to shame, “so help me, Barnes, do not make me regret this.”

Bucky gave Tony a short nod and a swift pump of his hand as the billionaire turned to sweep you into a hug, Pepper not far behind. As more family and friends approached the two of you, it turned into a receiving line, allowing the two of you to greet your guests as they were plied with food and drink and music began to start up in the hall. Bucky’s parents gave him a tight squeeze of a hug as they whispered good tidings to the two of you, and the people just kept coming. And coming. And coming. And while the family and friends had been in the front of the line, the back of the line was full of acquaintances, both legitimate and non, that wanted a look at the couple who would be taking Manhattan by storm. The couple that had essentially started a war.

He heard the whisperings of someone as they walked past the two of you stating, “she must be pregnant… you don’t leave someone, come back after ten years and get married immediately. She was cheating on Stinson with him, she’s got his child inside her and she’s trying not to be cast away like last week’s leftovers. When that’s all she’s good for.”

Bucky loosed a low growl and was two seconds away from stalking after the woman who’d spoken the words when the woman behind her shushed her before hissing, “they are in love and always have been. Why are you even here if you’re so ungrateful and spewing such lies and faith,” before stomping away towards the bar. Bucky made a mental note to thank her at some point during the night.

He felt a finger tap his wrist before realizing it was you trying to calm him down. He could tell by the look on your face you’d heard the words they had said but before he could assure you that he’d take care of you you shook your head and whispered, “it’s not worth it. They’re not worth it,” before clearing your throat and looping your arm into Bucky’s and speaking a little louder, “come, husband, let’s get a drink before we dance all night.”

Bucky swore he felt his heart float out of his chest at your statement, but he didn’t comment on it. He merely led you to the bar to get the night started.

It wasn’t long that the music for your first dance was starting and Bucky was leading the two of you to the dance floor as the chords to Jason Mary’s “I Won’t Give Up” began playing through the venue hall. Bucky’s hand was reaching, almost tentative, but you put a stop to that as you gently took his hand into yours and moved his other to sit on your waist as you laid your head on his chest and the two of you began to sway together to the music.

Your bubble was silent for a moment as the two of you took in the closeness, the proximity, the seriousness of the events of the day. And when you removed your head from his chest to look in his eyes Bucky felt his world fall apart and click back into place. You were his life. You were always his life. And nobody could take that away from him.

In that glance it was as if a moment of silent understanding passed between the two of you. A moment that felt more serious than anything you’d done so far on this momentous day. A look that said he’d burn the world down for you. And you’d let him.

Your stomach had been rolling all night out of fear of what you and Bucky had just done. Not the action itself, but what it truly meant and what it would bring. Wanda and Natasha had seen the look in your eye and had been steadily plying you with alcohol throughout the night while Bucky made sure you had food on your stomach and offered you bites of food whenever you would take a break.

You had danced with Tony and Bucky had danced with Winnie, each dance drawing tears to everyone’s eyes. You had the chance to thank Tony for his protection and his love over the years and you made him promise to let you visit whenever you wanted. He’d sworn he’d never revoke your privileges and that he expected to see his daughter all the time. Even if you did work together daily.

That had earned him a light hearted punch to the gut.

The night was beginning to calm down a little more and the toasts had started. Steve had given his best man speech as he relayed stories of the three of you in your childhood, stories specifically meant to bring a blush to you and your new husbands’ cheeks.

Your husband. James Buchanan Barnes was your husband. Of all the things you thought could happen when you came back to New York this hadn’t even made the list. And while the reason behind your marriage was glaringly obvious to you, you couldn’t help but bask in the feeling of warmth that wracked your body as you chanced a look at your husband.

Bucky was gorgeous, albeit a bit sweaty after dancing and charming people for the last couple hours, you could see where his hand had been run through his hair a number of times, his nervous habit. He was laughing at a story Wanda was telling, likely an embarrassing one from your college days, his blue eyes twinkling with laughter. Bucky pulled his hand from your grip to clap for Wanda’s toast and raise his drink in response, leading you to do the same. The laughter in the room began to quiet down as George Barnes took hold of the microphone, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

“Twenty years ago, this beautiful young woman came into our lives. And I knew that day that she’d change the world. That she’d change my life. My wife’s life. My son’s. You see, having a son is great and all and while he’s definitely done some things that have been silly at times and downright foolish at others,” he spoke with a knowing look in Bucky’s direction causing chuckles to abound in the room, most of them unaware about the latent heat sparking in the elder Barnes�� gaze, before he continued, “but the one thing he did right, was love this young woman with all his heart. Y/N, Winnie and I have never been more happy than today. Never more happy than to welcome you into our family. You’ve been a Barnes far longer than just today. And I am so happy to call you my daughter. We love you, sweet girl. And we just hope you’ll keep that son of ours in line.” His words were spoken with a sincerity that brought tears to your eyes and had Bucky clearing his throat and sniffling slightly. There were easy chuckles throughout the room as everyone lifted their glasses to toast alongside George.

“To my children. May their lives be one of protection, true love, and strength.”

The tears spilled over. You drank your champagne. And the music started back up yet again.

You watched George make his way over to where you and Bucky were sitting as he extended his hand in your direction. “Mind if I share a dance with the most beautiful woman in the room?” His eyes were twinkling under the dance floor lighting and you heard Bucky chuckled behind you as he loosened his arm from around your waist, letting you follow George to the dance floor.

“Don’t say that too loud, Mr. Barnes. Winnie’s around here somewhere waiting for you to misstep,” you teased, causing the older man to bark out a laugh as he spun you out onto the dance floor, teasing a laugh from you as well.

“She knows as well as I that she will always be the most beautiful woman in my life. But nothing compares to a bride on her wedding day,” his voice had softened as had the look in his eyes as the two of you danced slowly on the dance floor. For a brief moment you swore you saw the welling of tears in his eyes as the reality of the day sunk in.

“I’m sorry that this was forced on you, sweetheart. But I do hope you understand that it was the only way to help.”

You nodded, ready to tell him that you understood, that it would be okay, but he continued, “I will say, I always expected that when my son married it would be to you. Just never under these circumstances. But that boy loves you,” you inhaled a sharp gasp, your eyes flaring as you took in the words that George was saying. Loves. Present tense, not past. That was intentional. But before you could even speak, again, he spoke up, “he might not admit it, he’s probably not ready to admit it. But he never stopped loving you. And if this sham of a marriage shows him anything, I hope it shows him how wrong he was to hurt you. And how disastrous it would be to lose you forever.”

It was your turn to well up with tears and you opened and closed your mouth, the words you wanted to say evading you as George pulled you in close for a hug and to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve never been happier to have a daughter in my life.”

The tears fell.

George’s confession sinking in your stomach like a lead weight. Your brain taking the time to really take in the words he’d spoken. The words that would swirl in your brain, your heart, your stomach, until you were ready to deal with them.

People slowly began to filter out of the reception hall as the night came closer and closer to an end. Wanda had left not long before to go back to her hotel room and prepare to head back to California the next day. While the two of you were getting ready that morning you’d almost begged her to stay an extra day but she’d teased up and told you how much she missed her boys before promising you to spend time together while you visited with Bucky in just a few weeks.

Tony and Pepper hadn’t been far behind Wanda and now the only people left were you and Bucky, George and Winnie and Steve and Natasha as men scrambled to get cars ready.

You hadn’t planned for a fancy send off and you exited the hall with Bucky’s arm draped lightly around your shoulder as his mother babbled on about the gossip she’d heard regarding some woman who was cheating on some man and how it was ‘absolutely scandalous darling.’

“Sweet girl you looked absolutely breath taking tonight, didn’t she just take your breath away, James?” You could tell Winnie was baiting Bucky but he seemed just fine to fall into the trap as he responded with a touch of a growl.

“Absolutely stunning.”

Your breath had hitched yet again and the place where his arm touched you had your bare skin igniting in flames.

“Yes yes Winnie dear we know she was beautiful, no star has ever shined brighter. A regular Barnes family princess,” George grumbled as exhaustion began to seep into his features. You heard Bucky huff out a laugh causing you to face him to question what was so funny.

You saw the grin playing on his lips and opened your mouth to question him, when all of a sudden that grin dropped as fast as it had appeared, his eyes widening and his mouth opening to shout.

“GET DOWN!”

It all happened in a blink of an eye. Shouts erupted around you as loud pops sounded on the street. Your knees hit the ground before you could even gather your wits and you felt the physical presence of Bucky surrounding you as the sound of loud pops and screams reverberated through your bones. As fast as everything had been, Bucky had managed to slam you to the ground and reach for his gun as the gunmen had approached from out of nowhere. And his father had done the same. He threw Winnie to the ground next to you and proceeded to shoot at the approaching men, Steve and Natasha joining in as fast as they could. You could hear their shouts. A loud scuffle of feet as people ran. And then there was the squealing of car tires followed by a brief silence, accompanied by the sound of ringing in your ears.

A silence and ringing that ended in a heart-shattering, gut-wrenching wail.

A wail that would haunt you for the rest of your days.

The wail of a widow.

As Winnifred Barnes sobbed over the corpse of her husband. His blood covering your wedding dress and her hands.

The war had started. And it had claimed its first victim.

a/n: i am sorry. i am so, so sorry.

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#mafia au #mafia fic #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky x yn #mafia!bucky x reader #everything the light touches #buckysimp101 #james bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #im sorry #i am so sorry #it had to happen

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echoweaver · 10 months ago

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After all the mixed feelings I read about Simblr appreciation day, I've been unsure whether or not to publicly reply to my sunflowers.

Also, I am stressed and working a lot right now, and I half a half-finished update to asks about my mods in my drafts.

But I want to say -- this was really well timed for me. I threw out my back last week, and that stuff is so miserable and takes so long to heal. I'm still not standing up without pain. AND one of our cats is peeing on the bed, and we can't figure out why. This is a week where a bit of love and virtual hugs has made all the difference.

So, THANK YOU SO MUCH.

I love you guys. Really. We have one of the very best fandoms.

#echoweaver #meta-sims #memes #all the feels

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saintgoths · 1 year ago

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ᴏ'ᴍɪʀᴀ

POSSESSIVE!JOEL X SIREN!READER - VEHEMENT.

[PART SEVEN TO THE SIREN SERIES].

WORD COUNT - 2,471.

RATING - 18+. [f+m intercourse and infidelity, speaks of war and genocide].

SUMMARY - while you and joel continue your secret love affair, ellie is aware that a troubling future awaits; as gabriel havens tells joel shocking information.

feedback would be appreciated!

previous chapter - chapter six.

Joel had given up on keeping you silent, throughout the first rounds his hand had covered your mouth while he had indecently fucked his cock savagely into your cunt, your back had arched while his fingers dug into the skin of your fine shaped buttocks, his grip strong and his thrusts able and manly; while he listened to the pleasured wails of your lewd cries, Joel had smoothly pulled his head backwards, his eyes tight shut as he felt the nearing climax build up.

It was currently night time; and since the nightfall of the meeting, you had in his home previously, the two of you had been secretly meeting with each other, verily, it was you who had numerously snuck into his home to resume the devilish affair.

No matter how guilty you were, there was something about the way Joel was always so rough but pleasant with you, he had fucked you like no one else had and his kisses, touches and body had always pushed you to crave him whenever you were away from each other.

“That’s it princess,” Joel lustfully grunted, his hip thrusts eager and rough while the tumid sac of his swollen cock had pummelled against you, your sensations excessively peaked that you couldn’t form a single letter but shameful cries while your abundant drools had soaked against his pillow.

Your posture tight as you could feel the heat rush over your body while you had piled your cum around his cock, your body loose as the dark-haired man resumed to thrust his shaft into your pussy ere his thick ropes seeped inside of you, relieved, he gently bent down and kissed your shoulder just as he pulled himself out of you, while he had dragged himself off his bed, you had twisted your body so your back was pressed against his cot. Gently you had caught your breath ere you dramatically collapsed against the duvet, aware of the numerous of hickies Joel had imprinted against your skin.

Usually, you’d be uncaring if he had done so, but you hadn’t been in the ocean for a couple of weeks thus enhanced characteristics you normally had would slowly slow down. So, you had internally tasked yourself to go swimming this week. The moment you had forced yourself to put your clothes on you had immediately felt the way Joel’s eyes printed against your skin, aware of his gaze, you had turned around to look at him, your look had silently urged him to speak.

“Is there anything you’re doing tomorrow?” Joel questioned and with smoothness, you beckoned your head.

“Dinner with Ellie and Shiloh tomorrow,” you replied, your small chirp enough for Joel to raise his eyebrow.

You had sent the same strange look Joel had gifted you, finished with putting your clothes on you had leant against the door frame you had recently opened. “Ellie is in my life just as she is in yours,” you briefly explained and slightly, Joel had bounced his shoulders as he prepared himself to seem uncaring.

“Ellie sees your main lover while she is completely unaware that you have an affair with your old one,” and with the tone of his voice, you could tell he had felt comical.

“You’re not my ex-lover,” you shrugged just as you neared towards him again, you placed the palms of your hands against his shoulders and dumbfounded, Joel looked back at you.

“Then what am I to you? I don’t want to continue being a secret.”

Empathetic, you pulled your arms around his shoulders and you could feel him sigh as his body relaxed, pressed against yours. “There’ll be a time where the two of us are publicly with each other again.”

“With no Shiloh in the picture?” Joel brought up and unsure you had slowly beckoned your head.

“No Shiloh in the picture,” you ended and before the Texan could say anything else you had briskly pressed your soft lips against his to soften and quiet him up.

You had mentally kicked yourself when you had realised you hadn’t gone to swim, thus it was too late now, you were with Ellie who had helped you finish with the last bits of food you were going to serve for today and you had been glad that the red-haired girl had been calm and kind about having Shiloh over, but you could tell the freckled girl didn’t necessarily like your boyfriend.

“Well, where is he?” Ellie questioned; she had half of her body against the island of your kitchen, her eyes concentrated on the dessert you finished piecing together. Aside from her inquiry, you had wished that Ellie would eat a reasonable amount of food, you had observed how she didn’t eat much currently, but Joel had informed you that Ellie’s eating habits had become worst.

“He’s on his way,” you shortly muttered and as a response, Ellie swiftly peeked at you, but you have realised that the expression Ellie had on her face appeared like she had wanted to say something. With your right eyebrow perked upwards, you had sat on the small chair beneath the island. “Is there anything wrong.”

Reticent, Ellie shook her head, perked both of her hands in a sign of defence. “No,” she popped and silent, you had resumed your quick task. “Are things between you and Joel better?”

Unfazed by her random question you had nodded your head just as you commenced to clean the table. “Yes.”

“Do you still like him?”

Hesitant, you curved your sight towards the shorter girl, “why are you asking me this?” You suspiciously questioned and minimally judgemental, Ellie bounced her shoulders while she pushed herself off the table she previously leaned against.

“It’s just that I see you leaving his house at night a lot.”

Embarrassed, you had held back a guilty cough. “You must be confusing me as someone else,” you dismissively shrugged. “I wonder who he is now seeing,” you gently whispered well aware that Ellie had seen how transparent you were.

“I’m not stupid,” she rudely muttered, “I know it’s you, and that you’ve been cheating on Shiloh with Joel.”

With your eyes narrowed, you straightened yourself up and neatly stood up on your feet. “This isn’t the best time to speak about it.”

“Well, when will it be a good time to talk about it with you?” Ellie frustratedly questioned, “You never want to talk to me about anything!”

As you pulled in a short breath, you dramatically placed your hands against your hips. “I---”

“Did I come in too late ladies?” Shiloh eagerly greeted, he smoothly walked down the corridor and entered the open kitchen you and Ellie had currently stood in. Before you neared yourself towards the handsome man, you quickly delivered Ellie a look that screamed of warn ere you pressed your lips against your romantic partner while Ellie had settled down on the chair, she was closest too.

Dinner had gone well, minus the fact that Ellie had barely spoken to Shiloh, in your perception, everything had gone smoothly.

“Well, Ellie what are you interests?” Shiloh curiously questioned, he himself had peeked that Ellie had purposely barely spoken to him, and in your presence, he knew that sneakily forcing Ellie to speak would be the right choice.

Unmoved, Ellie had sat up on the chair she had currently sat on and began to lazily list her likes. Gently, stressed you began to pick on your food while Shiloh had easily scanned that Ellie had not taken a liking towards him.

“You don’t like me, don’t you?” Shiloh briefly chuckled and awkwardly, you had pressed your lips into a thin line as you had watched Ellie carelessly shrug her shoulders as her response. “You’re probably more used to Joel and [Y/N] having dinner with you and you might think I have bad intentions towards [Y/N], but I don’t.”

“That makes me feel better,” Ellie sarcastically replied and in anguish you had loudly sighed to gather their attention.

With a forced and sorrow gleam on your face you had quickly put down your cutlery. “The three of us should watch a movie, right?” You weakly suggested and in order to have the awkward dinner concluded, Ellie and Shiloh had given in to your idea and had helped you clean the table they had currently sat around; the task had been filled with silence and lack of grace, you had observed the way Ellie had barely looked Shiloh’s way and had peeked the insecure glances Shiloh had sent the auburn-haired girl.

The moment the three of you had completed the chore, you had found yourself sandwiched between Shiloh and Ellie, the younger girl had suggested to watch Jurassic Park and you had hoped that the tension of the movie would push the three of you to talk, yet, you had been proven wrong, barely any of them spoke and the only time they did would be when you would comically comment on a scenario, but after that, the atmosphere would return to the complete silence aside from the sound that came from the TV.

Comforted by the way he had played and stroked his guitar strings, Joel had currently sat on his wooden chair, the sky dark and his area gently lit by his lamp and the soft wind accompanied by the smooth chords the older man had played, his left foot against his right thigh, the Miller man had gently nodded to his tunes, slightly aware of the figure that had neared himself towards him.

Gabriel Havens, the blond man had respectfully greeted the other man who had slowly paused his short performance, Joel had gently placed his instrument against the side of his chair and pulled himself off the wooden chair he had previously sat on, in response to Gabriel’s greet, Joel had kindly taken Gabriel’s hands to his and softly shook it. “Good to see you,” Joel kindly muttered before he pulled himself to the railings of his deck, shortly after Gabriel followed and stood next to the taller man.

“I hope you know it’ll go wrong,” Gabriel lowly muttered and caught surprised, Joel had wondered if the blond man had known about the affair he had shared with [Y\N].

“What do you mean?”

Humoured, Gabriel stiffly glanced towards him. “Falling in love with a Siren.”

His blood ridden cold, Joel had lightly firmed his grip around the wooden railing, his face full with brief shock but he nuzzled it with an expression of confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s obvious,” Gabriel gently laughed, “the way she has a hold on people, her fishing skills, appearance, healing abilities…I know she got shot that day on the group patrol,” he then continued, with his hands clasped together, the older blond man stood up straight. “I once had a lover that was a Siren, I was really young, sixteen and reckless, her name was Mira.”

Surprised, Joel cocked his eyebrow, he had recognised that was the name of [Y/N]’s horse, perhaps Gabriel had named the horse after his lover. Well, it was painfully obvious he did. “There was some genocide caused by Humans against Sirens.”

“A pharmaceutical co-operation known as the Red-Circle, they had noticed that there was something about the blood of Sirens that could pause a virus for some time and as time went on and the virus that had taken over our world had progressed, they had noticed that their blood could slow down a bite and help an infected Human remain a Human longer than two days.”

“So, what they did was that they hunted Sirens more and thought that having many of their blood can make somewhat a cure.”

Surprised but somewhat intrigued by the intel Gabriel had informed him with, sympathetic for [Y/N]’s species, the Miller man had gently knitted down his eyebrows. “How do you know all of this?” As he had thought that his lover Mira, was likely caught through the midst of genocide.

“Mira had survived the first wave of the genocide, she was able to escape because she was protecting someone by sending them faraway,” Gabriel slowly explained, and surprised, Joel had raised both of his eyebrows.

“[Y/N]?” Joel curiously questioned and with a light hum, Gabriel moved his head.

“Mira was the mother of [Y/N], but [Y/N] doesn’t remember that Mira was her mother, Mira had [Y/N] taken away when she was barely five months old, and for her protection, Mira never visited [Y/N], because during that time, the Red Circle members were following their tracks.”

Startled by the rain pour of information, awkwardly, Joel had examined the older man before he had questioned him. “Are you the father of [Y/N]?”

Unsure, Gabriel softly shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think Sirens can crossbreed with Humans and if she did have a child with another Siren man, I can’t blame her, Sirens were trying to repopulate, Humans were being ruthless with them.”

Gabriel had known Mira before the infection took place, he had known the Red Circle was tied with the operation who had created the current virus they had directly dealt with. The Red Circle co-operation were tasked to make the back-up medicine for the Virus but they had failed numerous of times. The more they used the Siren blood to heal infected individuals, [precisely lab-rats], the further the infected kins would not only stop turning into the ill beings they were known for being in the end, yet they will transform into a being much worse than they expected.

Due to how wrong the research and the experiments for the cure had gone, the co-operation had to put a stop to making a back-up cure and allow the world to continue struggling against the hellish and infernal sickness. “After everything, they attempted to reconcile with the left-over Sirens around that area, but it went wrong, another War happened, Sirens killed many Humans and Humans killed many Sirens, the conflict was known as the Secret battle of the Seas and the outcome had caused many of [Y/N]’s species to re-locate to a safer place.”

“That war was the conflict, Mira had died in,” Gabriel sadly muttered and empathetic, Joel had reticently listened to the light-haired individual.

As much as he had been focused on the lore Gabriel had acquainted him with, the Miller man couldn’t help himself but silently speculate to why [Y/N] had been here. Though, due to how he was buried in curiosity, the built man had stood up straight while he brought himself to question the man. “If it’s safer back there, then why is she here?” Joel thoughtfully questioned and just as confused and suspicious as Joel, Gabriel briskly bounced his shoulders.

what do you think of this chapter?

♆

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porcelainpillowprince · 10 months ago

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this is my silly little blog to get all of my horny brainrot out :] check below the cut for dni, kinks, and my plans for this account !

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‧₊˚.𖥔 kinks ⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ

"yes .ᐟ" ★.˚𖦹｡⋆

praise/degradation , dacryphilia , somno , overstimulation , desperation , begging , light bondage , creampies , breeding (no preg) , biting , petplay (some aspects not all) , marking , orgasm control/denial , royalty , vampirism , cockwarming , possession , soft objectification (i am literally a doll lol) , free use (in specific contexts) , manhandling/wrestling

( may add more later .ᐟ )

"no .ᐟ" ★.˚𖦹｡⋆

any hard or violent kinks , non-con , dub-con , drugging , omorashi/piss cnc , rapeplay , detrans , misgendering , torture , scat , gore , impact (receiving) , inflation , incest , vomit , hypno , gangbang/threesome/polyamory , primal , anything dead dove/taboo , any usage of "daddy" regardless of ddlb/g involvement.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

‧₊˚.𖥔 terms ⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ

terms/ names i enjoy and am likely to use in my posts .ᐟ

- your highness

- (my) prince

- pretty boy

- good boy

- cuntboy

- slut

- (stupid/pretty) mutt

- (stupid/pretty) dog

- (sex) doll

- (sex) toy

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

‧₊˚.𖥔 asks ⋆˙ᝰ.ᐟ

my rules for asks are fairly simple and i love answering questions .ᐟ

yes .ᐟ ★.˚𖦹｡⋆

ask questions about my blog or me , request specific writings or share ideas , ask my opinion or input on certain kinks or scenes (i enjoy learning about new things so pls share your favorites!) , ask for longer writings or for me to expand on a previous post

hmm.. ★.˚𖦹｡⋆

ask to promote your blog (i gotta check it out first but usually yes!!!) .

no .ᐟ ★.˚𖦹｡⋆

ask for me to post photos of myself publicly or share privately , ask for onlyfans or other social medias , sending r4pe threats or any threats of physical or sexual abuse . not cool dude.

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

i highly doubt anyone has scrolled this far but hello!!!! hi!!!! thank you for checking my blog out!!! it means a lot to me!! so here's a super secret code word you can send in my asks for a free mini fic of your choosing !! just send " pocketwatch " and include a prompt or suggestion and i'll do what i can!!

my posts are light hearted nsfw writings both short and long form (when i get the time lol). i won't post any violent kinks or scenarios so you're safe with me here !! my posts are very in-the-moment and occasionally sappy and romantic because i don't see alot of that stuff!!! so i've taken matters into my own hands !! i don't take things to seriously here so i may often re/post stupid things or cute photos as well since this is my only account currently! (my last FOUR. accounts have been deleted so i refuse to leave this one sigh) (i may eventually start a sideblog for aesthetics or fandom things though!!!!! but we'll see!!)

i really do hope you enjoy reading ! i always love feedback on what you think or any ideas you'd want me to ramble about (i do love talking lol) my ask box is always open and i'd be grateful if you left any fun concepts , silly messages , or just a "hey i like your posts!" i do have some limits on what i will write but if you're unsure then don't be afraid to message me or drop it in anyways and ill always reply !! im very friendly don't be scared i don't bite (my posts say otherwise but i promise i wont bite you guys).

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

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impishsensei-a · 1 year ago

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hello all!! this is a roleplay blog for gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen, written by milk. on my pinned post, you'll find all relevant links/info here for my blog. though i am not completely caught up with the manga (i've read up to around chapter 180), i have a general idea of what is currently going on up to the most recent chapters. if i'm not here, you can find me on one of my other blogs: @blastintriumph @muryonokansei

please be sure to read my rules before interacting/following.

carrd || interest check || pinned credit || promo, v2 || divider credit || wishlist || tags

header by @foraltruism

for ease of access, my rules are placed under the cut!

I will interact with mutuals only. If I follow you I want to interact, so don’t hesitate to send me asks or IM me with plot ideas! I’m willing to RP with OCs & characters from other series. Personal blogs, please do not follow/reblog/like my posts.

I’m okay with one-liners, crack, multi-para, novella… everything! Feel free to send in any ask memes if we haven’t roleplayed before. Ask memes are a great way to break the ice so I really don’t mind. If I follow you that means I want to rp with you so if you’re ever unsure and worried you might be bothering me, don’t. I’m duplicate friendly.

If I haven’t replied in two weeks (and I’m not on a hiatus) that means I probably lost our thread or it’s sitting somewhere in my drafts and I haven’t noticed it, so please message me to remind me about it. I won’t be annoyed or upset. I drop RPs sometimes out of a loss of interest but please don’t blame yourself. It is always a personal thing that has nothing to do with anyone else as a roleplayer. I’m always happy to start/write more regardless of dropping previous threads.

I have some ships i might gravitate to, but I prioritize chemistry above all where RP is concerned. For now, my blog is multi-ship, so any relationship my muse develops will be in a separate verse unless stated otherwise.

Don't involve me with drama or send messages telling me to reblog callout posts or anything like that. I don't care for getting involved with petty rp drama. If it's something actually serious, I've likely already seen it on the dash and have taken note. Seriously, I will hardblock anyone that pesters me with nonsense drama.

There will be NSFW content on this blog so if you’re uncomfortable with that just blacklist the the following tags, as i tag all my nsfw posts with the following: “cw nsfw”, “nsfw //”, and “( nsfw. )”. Additionally, I will cover dark topics. There will be mentions of murder, blood/gore, toxic/unhealthy relationships and so on featured on my blog. I will of course tag what I feel needs to be tagged. Feel free to ask me to tag anything you need tagged. I am 26, so if a roleplay should ever come around to it I will only write smut with partners that are also of age & that I feel comfortable writing smut with. If you’d rather not roleplay smut publicly, I’m cool with continuing roleplays on discord. I’m also open to just private RPs (not necessarily smut) on discord too, just ask/lmk you’re interested!

Finally, I ask that minors DON’T follow my blog/DNI. I don’t want to be the reason anyone sees something inappropriate for their age. If you’re a minor & I accidentally followed you, let me know & I’ll unfollow you immediately.

#i was cackling the entire time i made this #i've never done anything serious in my entire life #( the edge of infinity; ooc. )

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khaire-traveler · 2 years ago

Note

hey, I’m Hellenistic-polytheistic-curious (not sure if people say that) and I saw a post where you were talking about how the gods aren’t dangerous and you don’t need to be like afraid of praying to them, and I was wondering how you, like, interoperate myths where gods do punish people for stuff like not worshipping them (anymore/enough/etc)?

I’m guessing it’s similar to the Christian Bible (which, not to trying to be disrespectful somehow that’s just something with which I just have experience 🥲) where, since it’s apocryphal, you just kinda accept some things and reject others due to that nature, but I wanted to ask.

Also, does one have to be certain to worship? Sometimes I worry I’ll get into it and fall out and then feel guilty or be afraid. Or that they’ll sense that I’m unsure and then feel as though I’ve been dishonest, or feel betrayed, or just think I’m not worth it because I’m not devout,!something like that.

thank you if you read/reply to this!!!!💖and sorry for the anon ask lol I’m just kinda too nervous to do it publicly

Hey, Nonny! Thank you for the ask, it's absolutely no trouble for me to answer!

Honestly speaking, Hellenic Polytheism differs from person to person. Unlike Christianity, there is no correct way to worship - no "set of rules", if you will. A lot of how worship is today can be seen in ancient times as well; people worshipped pretty much entirely different from each other simply based on which city or region they lived in. Each city and region even had myths that were unique to them! Most myths we have today actually stem from Athens (this is why Ares is often depicted very negatively in most of these myths; he was NOT favored in Athens and was considered anti-Athenian).

When it comes to mythic literalism (accepting myths as 100% real and factual), it's mostly unsustainable in worship to believe each and every myth out there, in my opinion. The reason for this is because myths, as a whole, were not generally seen that way, even in ancient times. They were stories that taught lessons, described why certain unexplainable things happened, and/or told of what a certain god might be like and why (as well as where they came from). It's definitely up to the worshipper how to interpret mythos. You can pick and choose what to believe, you can believe everything, or you can just straight up believe none of it - it's really truly up to you. I would suggest, however, looking into historical context of these myths first. Many myths written about the gods and their wrath were based on why people should respect the gods (or authority figures in general) and what happens when you don't do that. Their purpose served mostly to prevent people from going around yelling "fuck you" to the gods when they didn't get what they wanted - be respectful, and the gods shall respect you in return. Of course, that is just one of many interpretations, and you are more than welcome to believe what you will.

In reality, the gods are very kind. So long as you aren't be openly antagonistic (going out of your way to be disrespectful, cruel, rude, etc.), they aren't going to be upset with you for not knowing certain things, not worshipping 24/7, etc. They are actually very forgiving, despite the reputation some people (ahem, TikTok, ahem) give them.

To use my own experience as an example, I am rarely consistent with my worship. This winter was especially tough for me faith-wise, and for the most part, I basically didn't give any/many offerings at all. When you're having a crisis of faith, I always recommend communicating that with the gods; I think it just helps to be open and honest with them. It's like how you'd tell a friend if you needed space; it's just good to communicate with each other. They completely understood my situation and let me take the time I needed to regain my faith. When I needed to reach out to them, they were happy to communicate with me again, but when I needed some space, they were willing to provide that for me.

The gods do not abandon or scorn you for doubting their existence; they understand that faith is challenging to have, especially in a world where being religious and spiritual are equated with lacking in logic and reason. There is nothing wrong with doubt. It's actually a very healthy and normal thing. If you didn't doubt things in religion at least some of the time, you'd never have the opportunity to grow in your faith and worship. I also ind that once you go through a trying period of faith with the gods, it solidifies your belief in them all the more. ✨

All of this is basically just to say: do what feels right to you. The gods will understand if you need a break from worship or want to look into other religions. They're not ones to hate or reject people solely based on being unsure of their beliefs. You can be as uncertain as you want; they aren't going to judge you for that.

My best advice to you is, if you feel called to it, just dive right in and give worship a try. Don't be afraid to get your feet wet because, in all honesty, you have absolutely nothing to lose from it. No harm will come to you. The gods are not vengeful against their followers for losing faith, not worshipping them 24/7 (in fact, I hardly ever give daily offerings to the gods; I just offer when I have the time and energy to do so, and they don't mind), etc. You have nothing to fear.

I hope this helped and gave you the answers you were looking for! Please don't hesitate to ask me more questions; I am always happy to help. ☺️🧡

#asks #answered asks

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airasora · 1 year ago

Note

I... didn't mention Skully being transgender in my NSFW Belle edit...? I tagged him because he recently rekindled his childhood crush on Belle, which I was doing as well, and I asked him to choose between some different poses for the edit because I was unsure which was the best. So I dedicated it to him for that reason, it says so in the post as well. I don't even mention them being trans, that has nothing to do with anything, but I guess it's abundantly clear that you're just a massive transphobe.

You wrote: "I make edits and she ignores me. >:(". Gee, I wonder why I might be ignoring you, as you call it, perhaps it's because you're a disgusting human being??? Just a thought. Your ask to Skully makes that really fucking obvious.

I have a few guesses to who you might be so hiding behind that anon icon isn't working for you. Be grateful that I'm not sharing my guesses to who you are publicly.

Also, you think I can only interact with people who... based on YOUR bullshit logic... "is on my level"??? I can't interact or tag people who aren't as "talented" as I am? What the hell kind of mentality is that? Projecting much? You feel "ignored" by me, so you go after someone you think deserves to be ignored compared to you? You've answered your own goddamn question by saying that; what about me did you think implied that I'd agree with that mentality?

I don't pity Skully, and I don't pity you either cause you don't even deserve pity.

Oh, and just to make this clear; only reason I haven't blocked you yet is because I want to make sure you see my reply to your pathetic tantrum.

WTF your edits suck compared to other editors, but Y does Airasora tag U in her NSFW edits? She wayyyyyy more talented U ever be. I mean I make edits and she ignores me. >:( I bet she pitys U because U are a dumb trannny. As that little-bloodied-angel defending U from that anon who spoke out a while ago, what makes U so special U freak!

Whelp this of course ends my night on a "well I should have gone bed sooner, as this enough internet". I confident this the same anon who called me such things as (yet not censored of course):

AND

I have ignored the last two messages as I saw them as just a one word insult, nothing special, yet look at Anon, all tough and using more words (if count Y and U as words, but whatever). I am often not someone who wants drama or makes things spotlighted as such treatment feeds off such attention, yet whoever this anon is, I am hoping blocking you for good and I hope for dubbing me as such poetic profanity you, whelp

Like this gif, you are just someone behind a screen who needs not act like your high horse (at this point high chair) gives you an excuse such horrendous statements. So even if I am NOT fighting fire with fire (as I choose not to swear), just know a screen/barrier not going to excuse whatever karma has in stores for your whiny projective messages (like your edits get not enough attention or in general attention it seems). Also, think of this, at the end of the day you are staring a screen that reflects you, and in this case shows a sad person who thinks throwing insults under anonymous is a 'power move'.

Oh and one more thing, do not drag @airasora and @little-bloodied-angel into your poor attempt of making your likely lonely existence feel temporarily filled.

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keilemlucent · 4 years ago

Text

“i’m here”

NSFW (minors dni)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

word count: ~2.2k

keigo comes home and you’ve both got old wounds on the surface

warnings: sex-based breakdown/panic, depictions of ptsd, safe-wording, trauma (😎), vague descriptions of dissociation

a/n: hey folks, mind the tags! this is some vulnerable, self-indulgent hurt/comfort. i’m a bit shy posting this one BUT all the same enjoy <3

Keigo cared.

You could tell, so easily. It radiated around him when you were together, this aura that he never carried publicly. It was saved for you, a different type of adoration and tenderness that solely belonged between the two of your souls.

It was never acknowledged, but felt, and that quiet recognition was enough.

There were things you couldn’t tell him, not yet and fuck, maybe you never would. Everyone has their demons, and you knew Keigo had plenty of secrets he kept to him.

(How many times did you help him pluck and preen feathers still wet with blood? He assured you it was never his, but that didn’t ease the knot in your gut.)

It was just boundaries, maybe. Maybe. The things you couldn’t, wouldn’t tell each other. Little lines drawn to keep the two of you safe from your pains. Better to lock them up than share them, right?

Except, things are never that simple and ills hate staying hidden for too long.

...

He’d been gone for a while. A mission far off and secret.

By proxy, Keigo had come home haggard and hungry.

For you.

He entered your home and without pause, he was on you.

He tossed you into bed. His wings flared out wide and ruffled. It made him look bigger than he was, and the light in his eyes had a starved gleam that sent your heart racing.

You tried to ignore his new, plentiful bruises and bumps. The colors bloomed over his skin, even in the near dark of the bedroom.

What does he do when he’s away?

It was better to not ask questions.

He ravaged you, naturally. How could he not? He’d been gone for weeks, sending you the nastiest, most yearning texts. Nothing too long, but little notes that communicated how much he missed you, how much he fucking needed you.

And he was certainly showing you.

His lips were over yours, nipping and sucking and devouring you in every sense of the word. Hands tugged and ripped your clothes off, his nails long and unmanicured with his mission. They weren’t quite pointed, but they were still too sharp to be scratching down your ribs.

It was all a bit too much, a bit too fast, but you tried to catch up the best you could.

“Keigo—” You sputtered as he bit his way down to your breasts, tugging on a nipple with his teeth.

“Hush,” His voice sounded far too low and it made your stomach flip (in the worst way oh my god). “I’ll take care of you. Doesn’t that sound nice, dove?”

The pet name should’ve soothed you.

(‘Should’ve’.)

Your inside did flips as he trailed lower.

Your mind was going lower too.

Mentally, you scrambled, clawing for a ledge to ground yourself on. Sensation whirled, pleasure and fear mixing into some fucked up cocktail in the front of your psyche.

Why are you so scared?

Your heart pounded, nearly ached in your chest as Keigo played with your clit over your panties.

It should’ve felt good.

His tousled hair was so fucking pretty. Keigo was gorgeous in every way, the wings were just a part of his visage. You were so lucky, so privileged to have him looking at your cunt so hungrily.

You’re so scared.

Why are you scared?

(You knew why, you just didn’t want to remember any more than you needed to. But that wasn’t really in your control, was it?)

You felt like you were falling as Keigo cleanly licks your cunt through your panties, soaking the cotton with his drool.

No, no, no.

Tears pricked your eyes as he pulled aside your panties, just enough to get a look, going in for a taste—

NO, NO, NO—

“N-no. Stop.” You gasped the words, cringing at how they broke in your throat. “Keigo, s-stop.”

Keigo froze immediatly, gaze flickering up to your face before his expression fell hard and fast.

No, no, no, you made him upset.

Dumbass.

He shot up, wings folding tight to his back. You scrambled up on the bed, arms wrapping around your shoulders. They shook in your grasp, you shook in your own hold as you tried to comfort yourself. Your breath was coming too fast and hard, but that was another issue entirely. You tucked into yourself tighter and let your vision go blurry in the ripples of the sheets.

Keigo sat in front of you, eyes wide and lips parted in terror and unsure words.

“I’m so s-sorry,” His hands folded in his lap. So tense they looked painful.

You shook your head, laughing, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You just couldn’t do this right now.

“Can I help?”

You didn’t reply for a moment, trying to reign in your racing mind.

Truly, Keigo didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe moved a bit too fast, but nothing out of the ordinary. You’d done this song and dance so many times, you loved it. Most of the time.

Sometimes, someone with your secrets had bad days that made you scared of the people that love you the most.

A thick sludge burrowed in the back of your throat as you shook your head.

Thinking felt too hard.

“Not yet,” you choked out rubbing at your cheeks. The tears smeared over your cheeks, turning them hot and angry as the rabbit’s heart buried in your chest. .

Keigo hovered, unsure.

It wasn’t like him not to know what to do. He was intuitive and saw through people easily, even if he didn’t say it. And he knew you particularly well. Very well. Little details about you and your being were tucked away in his mind, always brought out in key moments.

“Dovey?” He asked softly, like trying not to startle a terrified animal (isn’t that what you were?) “Do you want me to go?”

“N-no,” The words burst from your lips as your chest squeezed so tight, you could’ve checked. “No, no, no, please don’t go.”

You gagged on air and slammed back into the headboard.

Sure, the odd mix of emotions and very unwelcome memories was rawing your mind and body from the inside out. Sure, Keigo knew nothing of what you were experiencing. This was private, all of this part of you held far away from him. This was your burden. You had therapy, and self-help books, and deep breathing.

But, none of that was working. Instead, you were staring down your lover, helpless.

Your eyes flickered to the nightstand.

“Water?”

Keigo was already sending off a flurry of feathers to freshen up the liquid in the glass.

Good start.

Keigo’s hands twitched, wings restless as he regarded you. His breaths were even and solid, counted and practiced to keep himself calm in the face of your panic.

A chilled glass was delivered to you by a bundle of feathers. You snatched it, holding it to your cheeks before taking a few fat gulps.

Slow down.

You’re going too fast.

“Little sips,” Keigo reminded you, voice soft.

You pulled back, looking at him in your hazy vision, “Little sips?”

You tried again, taking a smaller sip, swishing the water in your mouth before swallowing.

“Was that good?” You looked at him, inching closer to him

He nodded, golden and glowing, “Very good.”

The praise was a little bit of salve for a much larger wound, but it felt wonderful nonetheless.

Keigo wasn’t the issue.

He wasn’t, truly. You knew that, despite all the swirling fear.

The only issue with Keigo was that he suddenly felt too far away.

You gave him a desperate little look, hands itching across the covers.

He noticed because of course he fucking did.

(Thank fucking god.)

“I’m here.”

It was a reminder, a needed one.

Keigo, your kind, sweet partner was not the memories swirling his mind. He didn’t hurt you, he didn’t harm you.

“... Yeah?” You sniffled.

“I am.” His face was soft, softer than you’d ever seen. The pre-mature wrinkles looked too deep in the moonlight. His eyes looked too old, too worn, as he silently acknowledged those goddamn demons without a word. A little, rumbling coo broke from the back of his throat and felt yourself relax with the sound.

And, fuck, bless him—

Keigo gave you a soft smile that felt like warm honey in spiced tea that seeps into the cracks between your ribs.

“Hold me?” You finally asked, words shaking but not hesitant.

He nodded, and before you could comprehend, he was tugging you down into the sheets, pulling you to his chest and squeezing. It wasn’t rough treatment, but it was firm, grounding at the very fucking least. His arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you to his chest and holding you there. Your cheek squished against the chill of the cooling sweat over his sternum, a shaking breath finally coming slow enough to give you a bit of ease.

“Is this okay?” Keigo asked, one of his wings adjusted to barely ghost over your bodies.

You pressed closer, greedy and scared, “More. Tighter. Please.”

Keigo wasn’t one to deny you.

His grip got firmer, fingers stroking up and down your spine in time with his own slow breathing. The wing over you relaxed, bearing down just enough to be comfortable. It was maybe a little too much. You dealt with it, let the weight of Keigo be next to you and over you because he was good. You were good or going to be. You clung to the thought.

“You’re safe, I promise.”

You clung to that thought too. Keigo was good and safe. You believed him if only a little bit.

You hoped Keigo knew that this wasn’t about him. That the poisonous memories and awful thoughts weren’t about him, rather than he’d caught their thin, nearly invisible tripwire.

You’re safe, why are you panicking?

Because sometimes this just happens.

You pressed your nose between his pecs, tucking a hand between the roots of his wings. It made him startle; the area was sensitive. He quickly relaxed and went back to petting your back and taking deep breaths.

The two of you laid for a long time, surrounded by each other's breathing and grounding in the heat of the sheets and the white noise of the world. You remained in some sort of a daze for most of it, the memories fading, but just leaving you numb and out of it.

“More water?” Keigo asked, tentatively kissing your clammy forehead.

You nodded, sitting up slowly and rubbing a hand over your cheeks. The air felt less suffocating, your mind calmer, but you still felt like shit—

“Drink,” Keigo brought the glass to your lips with a combination of his hands and feathers.

You gulped down half of the freshened water, letting a bit dribble past the corner of your lips. The leftovers were swept away by your thumb and rubbed in your hot cheeks. The cold was a grounding, and the world was finally stilling as you needed it to.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” You met Keigo’s gaze from where he sat across from you. He sat upright and on his knees, hands and wings folded to his center. The posture made him look smaller as he watched you. His bright eyes took you in as well as they could, but you could sense he was still a little on edge.

Your words made his brows shoot up.

“I should be telling you that, not the other way around,” Keigo bit his lip and frowned.

You snatched his hands in yours, “We both need it. I need you to know I’m not upset.”

“You... should be. At least a little.”

You gave a little shake of your head, thick in your resolve.

Keigo stayed silent before taking a deep breath, wings readjusting with thought, “I suppose you don’t want to talk about it?”

“I... I don’t,” Maybe sometime, but not now. “But, I still need you to know you didn’t do anything wrong. It just moved too fast for me and I got...”

You lost your words and your vision went hazy at the bedsheets once more.

“Overwhelmed?” He finished your sentence with a squeeze of your hands.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s the word,” You shook your head. “I’m still not feeling great.”

“That’s okay, “ Keigo assured you with another squeeze. “Can I help at all?”

You shook your head once more.

Not right now, not more than you’ve already done.

“Just be here, if that’s okay? Like you have been.” You fully intertwined your fingers, noticing the remnants of something dark under his fingernails. More than likely dirt, but it was still a reminder. “It’s just nice to have you close.”

Everyone has their demons.

“Can I still kiss you?” Keigo asked as you dragged him under the covers.

You mussed on it, wondering if it would bring back the thick fog and panic.

“Only a little,” You told him, once again burying yourself in him. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

It was more than enough for the two of you.

Keigo tilted your jaw up with his palm, giving you the gentlest kiss he could. His touch remained firm everywhere else, but he was tentative in giving you the space you needed.

He pulled away and you tuck yourself under his chin.

“Thank you.”

Keigo’s wing stretched over you, blocking out whatever thoughts and ills clawed toward you. In a wordless squeeze, he said all that needed to.

‘Of course.’

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #tw ptsd #tw trauma #if y'all read and think there should be other warnings added #please shoot me an ask or a message #i wasn't sure i was gonna post this one but #here we are #enjoy lovies <3

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chaoticgoodlawyerwrites · 3 years ago

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Preview for Chapter 18! Here's the conversation with Madam Meiyin. We'll see more of Yingying in action later in the chapter. Right now what I've written is just soft Bingqiu and sticky Shizun, but I'm trying to get on with the plot!

Luo Binghe pulled away from Shen Yuan with a sigh when a knock sounded at the door. He sighed silently as he watched his husband put up his walls again, once again the Sect Leader that demanded respect. “Could you get the door, Binghe?” he asked quietly.

He squeezed his hand once gently then walked to the door, shaking off his more intimate mood as well. If it was who he thought it was, then he, too, needed to change his mindset.

As he expected, Ning Yingying was waiting outside with Madam Meiyin, both women looking at him with some surprise. “A-Jie, Madam Meiyin. Please come in. Shizun is expecting you.”

He turned back to a composed Shen Yuan as Ning Yingying said, “Thanks, A-Luo. Good morning, Shizun.”

“Good morning,” Madam Meiyin said politely and Binghe saw her bow out of the corner of her eye.

“Good morning,” Shen Yuan replied, eyes sharp and assessing. “Yingying, the door, please. If everyone could please be seated.”

Yingying made sure the door was closed properly before coming to join them. Both women sat two small tables Shen Yuan had arranged to be set up for them before his desk and Binghe poured them both tea to Ning Yingying’s thanks and Madam Meiyin’s obvious discomfort. Then he took his place beside Shen Yuan as they had discussed for this particular conversation; there was no need to hide here.

Ning Yingying looked delighted at the seating arrangement and Madam Meiyin seemed to tense further. Luo Binghe looked at Shen Yuan and saw his eyes narrow. “Madam Meiyin, did you find your accommodations acceptable?”

“Yes, thanking… Sect Leader Shen for his hospitality. The room was comfortable and his disciples have been… surprisingly kind.” Madam Meiyin said, confusion laced through her tone.

“...if I may ask, why did you hesitate before saying my title?” Madam Meiyin glanced nervously at Ning Yingying and Shen Yuan said, “You may speak honestly in front of Yingying. She has our trust.”

“...This Meiyin is aware of Sect Leader Shen’s possible future titles in the demon realm but decided to use the one most applicable to this time.”

Shen Yuan nodded and said, “I had figured you would know who exactly Binghe was once you properly looked at him. Thank you for your discretion last night.”

Her red eyes flicked nervously to Luo Binghe then she bowed from her neck. “With all due respect, Sect Leader, this Meiyin is no fool. I have no desire to make an enemy out of you or your soulmate.”

“Indeed,” Shen Yuan said blandly.

Luo Binghe added, voice coldly satisfied, “It also served to turn Yue Qingyuan’s request against him and gave my Shizun room to publicly punish him.”

Her face lit up at his words, vicious pleasure in her eyes. “He is truly being punished?”

“Yes,” Shen Yuan said, picking up his tea cup. “His weapons and position have been stripped from him and he is on house arrest. He will not be coming after you for retribution.

“It raises questions about how he knew to look for you specifically. I know Yingying has already asked you some questions about it, but I wanted to follow up with a few of my own. Madam Meiyin, how well known are your abilities?”

She frowned. “That is a difficult question to answer. In the demon realm, I am well known for my ability to tell the future, but I am unsure how much that translates to being able to see someone’s fate. Considering I mostly concern myself with my… charges, it is not surprising that people would seek me out specifically for matters related to sex and love. I sincerely doubt I am well known in human circles, otherwise I would be hounded day and night. It is part of why I generally prefer border areas; easy access to a sustainable food source with a degree of anonymity.”

“Your charges?” Yingying asked, voicing Luo Binghe’s own question.

“Succubi,” Shen Yuan answered. “I am assuming that Yue Qingyuan threatened them?”

Fury, grief, and hatred crossed her face before it disappeared in an instant. “Yes,” she hissed.

“...did he kill anyone?” Shen Yuan asked gently.

“Yes,” she said, clipped but there was still grief in her eyes before that was hidden away, too. “One of my girls, my A-Ming. She was late from returning to our den and we grew worried. Yue Qingyuan walked in presenting her head, threatening to do the same to everyone unless they either handed me over or I turned myself in. She had refused to tell him, but he had tracked us anyway. And his spiritual energy… I knew I couldn’t fight him, and didn’t want more of my family to suffer.

“We made our deal: he left us alone and would not tell other cultivators where we were, in exchange for me attending your celebration to read your fate to see if you were tied to anyone specifically, and to reveal any information I could on Luo Binghe. He said he suspected he was a demon, but did not give me more information than that.”

When she said nothing more for a few seconds, A-Yuan said gently, “My condolences. I know nothing can bring your family member back, but I would like for the Sect to compensate you for your loss and ill treatment.”

She stared at him, shocked. “Is Sect Leader Shen serious?”

“Quite. Is that not standard procedure for when harm is done?”

“Not between cultivators and demons.”

“Well,” he said, taking Binghe’s hand, “I am not the typical cultivator.”

She continued staring at him. Luo Binghe said lowly, spurred by an itch in his brain, “Is that any way to respond to your future empress, Madam Meiyin?”

She flinched and Ning Yingying gasped. Shen Yuan admonished, “Binghe, there’s no need for that.”

“I beg to differ, my love,” he said, intertwining their fingers and then resting their hands on the desk so they were clearly seen. “You are kind, and that is rare in this world for a reason. I know you are more than capable of violence; you did defeat Yue Qingyuan in combat to take your position, after all.”

Madam Meiyin paled at that, and Luo Binghe was pleased. He wasn’t sure how much of why Shen Yuan was Sect Leader had become widely known, but he needed his future subjects to respect his strength on his own merits. Now was as good a time to start as any.

He continued, “People, especially demons, will mistake your kindness for weakness. You know I will gladly kill any who threaten or disparage you, but I know that would upset you if it happened too much. If people respect you, then I won’t have to kill as many people.”

Huh, Meng Mo said to him. So you were paying attention to my lectures.

Shen Yuan huffed but squeezed his hand gently. “Very well, but I would rather not alienate people who can be our allies.”

He looked back at Madam Meiyin who saw the attention and moved to kowtow to him. “Thanking Sect Leader Shen for his generosity. This Meiyin will remember and is at the Sect Leader’s service.”

“Rise,” Shen Yuan said gently and she did. “We have other things to discuss. Tell me everything he said about Binghe.”

She did, and then proceeded to answer all of Shen Yuan’s questions. In the end, they did not have much to go on. Yue Qingyuan had not been inclined to talk with his captive, though Madam Meiyin did offer what insights she had observed. He had relied on his threat being enough to keep her from taking her suspected-fellow demon’s side, and had often slipped into referring to Shen Yuan as “Xiao-Jiu” when distracted. He had asked her if she was capable of restoring lost memories, a question that had Shen Yuan tensing in alarm. She had told him no.

When Shen Yuan asked the general region Yue Qingyuan had found her in, Madam Meiyin had answered with a large town that was much in Huan Hua Palace’s territory, though close to the border area with the demon realm. She didn’t know how exactly they were discovered or that it was revealed she was with her succubi, stating that her family was always wary of drawing the attention of cultivators, particularly from large Sects.

None of the information she gave them was comforting, but Madam Meiyin offered to do her best to learn more and keep in touch. She wanted to figure out who had given her away more than they did.

As their meeting concluded, Madam Meiyin stood with a contemplative Ning Yingying. She bowed low to both Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe. When she rose, she said, “Thank you both for your assistance and listening. There is much still in motion, but I will say that you are on the right path to achieve your goals. There will be difficult times, but your bond is strong. Rely on it, on each other, and everything will work out. I wish you well, and will be in touch through Ning Yingying.”

Madam Meiyin bowed to them once more and left. Ning Yingying nodded to them with a smile and followed, closing the door behind her.

Shen Yuan slouched suddenly with a sigh. He drained the rest of his tea and said, “What a mess.”

#i'm tired haha #Bingqiu won't let me rest #I'm not super happy with this section so it may change a bit in the final version #i am enjoying writing sticky shizun though #he pouts at Binghe and it's a one hit KO

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takimeguris · 2 years ago

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hello! this is a private, unaffiliated, and selective roleplay blog for kamisato ayato from genshin impact.

penned by milk. please be sure to read my rules before interacting/following. if i'm not here, you can find me on my childe blog.

GOOGLE DOC || INTEREST CHECK || PERMANENT STARTER CALL (WIP) || credit 1 + 2

i’ll place my rules here as well for ease of access for mobile users. they’re located under the cut!

guidelines

I’m willing to write with anyone no matter your writing, formatting, and image use (or lack of). I’m okay with one-liners, crack, multi-para, novella… everything! Feel free to send in any ask memes if we haven’t roleplayed before & even if it’s shippy. Ask memes are a great way to break the ice so I really don’t mind. If I follow you that means I want to rp with you so if you’re ever unsure and worried you might be bothering me, don’t. I’m cool with following/interacting with other Ayato writers.

Don’t god mod. My character is mine, and yours is yours. Little things to move the thread along are fine with me, but don’t kill Ayato without even checking if that’s fine with me first (ask memes that call for it are an exception though, of course).

I LOVE writing ships, & I’d be happy to plot ships. I have some ships I like & gravitate to a bit, but where RP is concerned chemistry is prioritized. My blog is multi-ship, so any r/s my muse develops will be in a separate verse. I won’t have exclusives/mains unless stated otherwise. I will NOT write incest or pedophilia/underage content. Don’t ask me to.

There will be NSFW content on this blog so if you’re uncomfortable with that just blacklist the the following tags, as i tag all my nsfw posts with the following: “cw nsfw”, “nsfw //”, and “( nsfw. )”. Feel free to ask me to tag anything you need tagged. I am 25, so if a roleplay should ever come around to it I will only write smut with partners that are also of age & that I feel comfortable writing smut with. If you’d rather not roleplay smut publicly, I’m cool with continuing roleplays on discord. I’m also open to just private RPs (not necessarily smut) on discord too, just ask/lmk you’re interested!

I may cover dark topics during roleplays on this blog. It is likely there will be mentions of murder, blood/gore, toxic/unhealthy relationships and so on featured on my blog. I will of course tag what I feel needs to be tagged.

I ask that minors DON’T follow my blog. I don’t want to be the reason anyone sees something inappropriate for their age. If you’re a minor & I accidentally followed you, let me know & I’ll unfollow you immediately.

#( out of paperwork. )

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fatuispolaris-archive · 2 years ago

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hello all! this is an indie, private, & selective roleplay blog for tartaglia/childe from genshin impact. penned by milk. please be sure to read my rules before interacting/following.

GOOGLE DOC || INTEREST CHECK || PLOTTING CALL || pinned credit | fanart for icons credit (1), (2), (3)

i’ll place my rules here as well for ease of access for mobile users. they’re located under the cut!

guidelines

Don’t god mod. My character is mine, and yours is yours. Little things to move the thread along are fine with me, but don’t kill Childe without even checking if that’s fine with me first (ask memes that call for it are an exception though, of course).

There will be NSFW content on this blog so if you’re uncomfortable with that just blacklist the the following tags, as i tag all my nsfw posts with the following: “cw nsfw”, “nsfw //”, and “( nsfw. )”. Feel free to ask me to tag anything you need tagged. I am 25, so if a roleplay should ever come around to it I will only write smut with partners that are also of age & that I feel comfortable writing smut with. If you’d rather not roleplay smut publicly, I’m cool with continuing roleplays on discord. I’m also open to just private RPs (not necessarily smut) on discord too, just ask/lmk you’re interested!

Given that Childe is a villain, I will not stray away from this villainous nature of his or soften it in the slightest. Even though he is a playable character in game, he is still unapologetically a harbinger and doesn’t show remorse for his actions. I will approach writing his character with this mentality. Additionally, I will cover dark topics. There will be mentions of murder, blood/gore, toxic/unhealthy relationships and so on featured on my blog. I will of course tag what I feel needs to be tagged.

#pinned #this is just a mobile friendly pinned... i'll post a promo eventually #( ooc. )

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machinegunbun · 4 years ago

Note

Is there gonna be a third part for Deserved It🥺

Deserve You+#

Word count:1.7k

A/N: Everyone say thank youu anon for reminding me lmaoo. This was supposed to be posted tomorrow but I got excited soo

“Pete, please just let me explain.” You whimpered, your voice and spirit growing weak. It felt hopeless, like maybe you really had lost him for good.

Your fist knocked lightly against the wood of the hotel room door, the sound reverberating down the silent hallway. Anxiety filled you, this wasn’t your first time knocking. You had been here for fifteen minutes and were completely unsuccessful so far.

You were pleasantly surprised when you heard fumbling from inside, not expecting them to answer. When the door swung open you were met with the sight of Colson towering over you, an unimpressed glare being shot your way

“He can’t hear you, he’s in the shower. Now stop, you’re pissing me off.”

“Please.”

“What do you want?” The question was more of a statement, letting you talk only to get you to leave.

“Is he okay?” You ask, sniffling.

“What the fuck do you think?”

“Please, I just wanna make it better.“ You plead

“Then go the fuck home.” He replies, shutting the door halfway before opening it again “And stop fucking knocking.” He adds, shutting the door in your face. Sighing, your back slides down the door, admitting defeat.

As you sat in the all too quiet hallway you found yourself wondering if maybe it meant more than you would like to admit. Maybe Colson was right, would you have kissed Shawn if he had never walked in? Would you have even ever told Pete if you did? Would you even regret it?

Tears began to well up in your eyes at the thought. Who were you kidding? Of course you’d regret it, who cares what everyone else thinks? You knew better than anyone that leaving Pete for Shawn would be the downgrade of a lifetime, and the fact that people based the opposite assumption purely over their own ideals of beauty was fucked up. Pete treated you better than Shawn ever did, he made you feel more than Shawn ever could. He made you a better person, you couldn’t believe your judgement had lapsed that badly, even for so much as a second.

Your head knocked against the door twice, trying to bang the anxious thoughts directly from their source, before the door swung open, the tall blonde giving you a single disapproving look when he spotted you on the floor.

“Is it the pizza?” You could hear Pete ask from inside. Right, you hadn’t gotten the chance to eat dinner

“Nah, it’s just Rook. I’ll be right back, you got the door for me?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Pete replied, his voice hoarse. You could only imagine he’d been crying.

You glanced up at Colson from your place on the floor, embarrassed.

“Just let me talk to him.”

“No.”

“He's not a baby, he doesn't need you to protect him.” You mumble

“No, but he cares about you. A lot. A-fucking-lot a lot, and I know if I let him out here and he sees you crying he’ll run right back into your arms.”

“I just wanna see him. I hurt him and it's killing me to know I can't hold him and make him feel better. I just wanna hold him.” You say, your voice cracking.

“Why don’t you just leave him alone and call Shawn instead so he can cheat on you again and you can go on another fucking bender and pretend like theres something interesting about your life.”

“Fuck you.” You retort, although you know his anger is the only reason for his words

“Fuck you too, (Y/N). Who took care of you after you went on your little fucking bender? Pete. Who helped you through the breakup? Pete. Who was with you when you felt like the whole world hated you even though you did nothing wrong? Pete. Who was there for you, romantic or not, whenever you needed him? Pete.If you really want to apologize you need to wipe those fucking tears, take a breath, clean yourself up, and fucking apologize without guilting him into saying its okay.”

“Okay, Okay. I’m not Casie.”

“Damn right you’re not, cause my daughter would’ve never pulled this dumb shit in the first place. And get off the fucking floor, you look pathetic.” He scolds, watching as you stand up, still almost a foot shorter than him. Colson turns around, pushing the door open as it was only half shut. You peer inside, trying to catch sight of Pete, but seeing only a piece of the hallway.

You remained on the floor, not daring to knock once again out of fear Colson might call security on you.

Your head ticked up curiously when you heard someone walking down the hallway, looking up to see Rook making his way towards you. Glancing down at you, he knocked, waiting for a moment before Colson was walking out of the door. Colson looked down at you as well, mild disgust gracing his features before he was walking down the hallway alongside Rook, the two boys disappearing into the elevator.

Pete walked out five minutes later, hoping you hadn’t given up and left. His eyes lit up when he saw you, first reaction being to fix the pout that was stamped on your face.

“Oooh, you got in trouble.” Pete teases, shutting the door behind himself and taking a seat next to you on the carpeted floor, not entirely caring that it was dirty as long as you were right down there with him.

“You heard?”

“It’s a hotel door, not a soundproof barrier.” He jokes, looking at you “Yeah, I heard everything. Listen, he shouldn’t have said any of that to you. He was angry, that’s all.”

“Don’t defend me.” You reply, looking over to meet his eyes. Pete purses his lips, his eyes filling with tears

“I’m always gonna defend you.” He says, his eyes leaving yours as he does, landing on the floor instead. The tone of his words are less reassuring and more disappointed. You thought for a moment he would cry, but he didn’t. His hand never even so much as came up to wipe his tears. Another brief silence fell over you, one more and you think you’d rip your hair out. You were unsure if you should wrap your arms around him the way you wanted to, the last thing you wanted to do was manipulate him into telling you what you did wasn’t a problem.

“I get it.” Pete says, breaking the silence.

“What?” You ask, your voice surprising even you in the midst of such stillness, feeling foreign and unlike your own

“I get if you want to be with him,” Your eyes meet once again as he says this “I won’t hate you.” He assures, his lips pushing together in a sad, half smile. You stared at him, examining his features and what you had done to him, but in Pete’s mind you were weighing out your options, and everytime Shawn came out on top. He was so caught up in his own mind he almost didn’t catch it when you began shaking your head.

“Oh thank god, cause he’s back at our place right now and we fucked on our bed-” Pete’s head tilted down in disappointment, focusing on his tattooed fingers. You laughed, punching his arm lightly “No, I want you dummy. Why else would I be humiliating myself by crying in a la quinta hallway. What's up with that, by the way? Colson doesn’t have the money to put you up somewhere better? You just got your heart broken.” Pete cracked a smile, his gaze shifting up to the door.

“I know the breakup was hard for you, and everything after it too. I guess I can understand just wanting something before it felt like the world turned it’s back to you.”

“No. I don’t want that, I don’t want Shawn. Sappy love songs, extravagant vacations, waking up early to exercise, flirting publicly as fan service, the perfect family-”

“Okay, okay we get it. He has a dad.” He laughs “Stop rubbing it in.”

“And actually nice hotels, seriously what the fuck is this.” You laughed, your heart swelling with love when you managed to make Pete smile “It’s just not who I am anymore. I’m late nights watching TV, laughing by the fridge when we get up at 3am to make snacks cause we have the munchies. I'm sitting in your backyard with you, your mom and your sister while we eat dinner and breathe the fresh air and look at the stars. I’m going on walks cause we’re depressed and need the sun to convince us we’re okay again. You changed me in the best ways, baby. I don’t want anything else.” You stared at the ceiling, vivid images flashing through your mind, thinking who you are now is so much more beautiful than who you were then.

You hadn’t even realized Pete was crying until he sniffled, your gaze drifting back over to him, the sight breaking your heart.

“Fucking lame.” He replies, both of his hands coming up to wipe his eyes, his sweatshirt pulled over his hands. You reach over, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into your grasp. Laying there in peaceful silence, you find yourself running your hands through his hair, inhaling his scent and letting his body warm your own. You felt yourself calm down for the first time tonight with him in your arms.

The moment was broken as someone exited their hotel room, glancing down at the two of you on the floor before making their way to the pool, towel flung over their shoulder. Pete and you shared a look of amusement as he walked away, stifling your laughter until he made it to the elevator.

“Come on, let's go inside.” He says, trying the doorknob. There’s a thump sound as it moves a bit and stops, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion before giving it another try. You tilted your head, looking at the doorknob and to Pete as a look of realization overtook his features.

“I forgot my key.” He sucks his teeth, shaking his head as you laugh from your place on the floor.

#Pete davidson #pete davidson angst #pete davidson fluff #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson fanfic #colson baker #mgk #machinegunkelly #machinegunkelly fanfic #colson baker fanfic #mgk fanfic

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honeymoonjin · 4 years ago

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 11.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as the Lady in the first season of The Gentlemen.

<- prev || masterlist || next ->

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), big dick namjoon serving us tripod realness, dom!joon, and when i say dom i mean both dominant AND domestic : ), impregnation kink, daddy kink, praise, dom!jimin, sub!reader in both of these scenes, lingerie kink (m wearing), copious teasing, very light spanking, french kissing, lapdance, the jimin scene is filthier than the tags give it credit for ngl, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing/eating, aftercare (as always)

banner designer @jamaisjoons | thank you everyone in the sfhs server, you bring me so much joy, motivation and good ideas | AND finally thank you to the anon that suggested [redacted] jimin i legit replanned everything just to make that his prompt

DAY TWELVE

The mattresses in the room of bunk beds are surprisingly comfortable. The metal springs squeak a little if you move too much, but you wake up feeling well-rested.

“Not too bad, right?” Hoseok chirps, swinging out on the ladder and jumping down onto the floor with a thud. Using his laundry from the day before, he unceremoniously swaps his sleep shirt and boxers for some deep green skinny jeans and an orange sweater. Namjoon, more modest and distinctly more sleepy, grabs his clothes and stumbles back to his own room.

“The beds? Better than I was expecting for sure.”

Hoseok smiles warmly as you hop down the ladder and arrive on steady ground again, toes curling into the carpet. He fiddles quickly with a chunky watch, doing up the links. “Breakfast is downstairs if you want it.”

You throw him a teasing grin. “Not if you’re making it, thanks.”

He has the good graces to pretend to be offended, before tugging you into a playful side-hug, ignoring your squeak of surprise. “No, you cheeky fucker, Jungkook bought pancake mix. He texted me saying there’s plenty for everyone.”

“Jungkook making breakfast?” you ask dubiously, but the warm image of pancakes for breakfast makes your stomach growl. “Let me get dressed real quick and I’ll come down.”

Jungkook, it seems, is starting out the day cheerful as ever. He gives you a big grin when you, Namjoon and Hoseok come down for breakfast, and he makes sure to dish up the biggest pancakes for you, before taking the second biggest for himself.

Jin raises a teasing brow when you come down accompanied by the two men, Namjoon still with his hair ruffled up awkwardly from his slumber. “Long night?” he questions with a cheesy wink.

Hoseok catches on to the teasing nature, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Sadly, Namjoon wanted a rest day, so we didn’t enjoy any funny business.”

Jungkook watches the three of you closely, lips tightening just a little bit before he breaks out into a cheeky smile. “I think Y/n would have been too tired out to do anything more anyway.”

You choke on air, a forkful of pancakes blessedly not in your mouth yet. Beside you, Hoseok chuckles awkwardly. “Goodness, JK, we heard enough yesterday. The gym walls are not as thick as they should be.”

Instead of blushing like you are, Jungkook puffs his chest up. “I’ve never heard Y/n scream like that with any of you guys. Then again; I bet you haven’t made her squirt like I did.”

This time you aren’t so fortunate, coughing on a mouthful that you’d anxiously stuffed in to keep yourself occupied. You send Yoongi a grateful look as he slides you a glass of water.

“Jesus, Jungkook,” Jin grimaces, “we’re trying to eat breakfast.”

You keep your eyes down, confused by Jungkook’s behaviour and more than a little embarrassed.

When you hear Namjoon speak up, his voice is strangely tensed. “That’s really not appropriate.”

A heated pause. “This is literally a porn show,” Jungkook states defensively, “sex is the whole reason we’re here. I think everyone’s forgetting this is a competition about being the best in bed, I’m just- You know what, never mind, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“You just what?” Namjoon questions. It’s unlike him to be argumentative, and you shift in your seat, taking another sip of the ice-cold water. “Did you really make us all pancakes just so you could gloat? Y/n is a person, not a video game, Jungkook. Have a little respect.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but when you glance up, the frustrated rolling of his eyes and furious stabbing of his fork in a pancake speaks volumes.

Yoongi pinches his brow. “Jin-hyung, can you pass the syrup? Thanks.”

Namjoon stares expectantly at the youngest Gentleman for a few moments, before letting out a light huff and returning to his food.

Silence continues for a moment or two before Taehyung pipes up, voice tiny in the oppressive tension. “How many people still have to do their prompts this week? I haven’t done mine yet.”

Yoongi sends him a lightly exasperated look. “Really?”

Taehyung gives a small shrug, glancing to the camboy sitting beside him. “I mean… I don’t think we need to be explicit but this show is about sex. I feel like it’s equally bad if we don’t talk about it at all, you know?”

“The kid’s right,” Jin allows with a wry grin. “I’ve done mine. Tuesday; though I suppose some of you saw.”

Jimin cocks his head, lost. “Saw? Uh, yes, I haven’t done my prompt yet. Actually, uh, if you guys wanna take part, stay in the lounge tonight. I need an audience.”

You send him an inquiring look. “What about me?”

Jimin lets out a short laugh. “Your participation is kind of mandatory. Please stay in the lounge too.”

You appreciate the slow brushes of conversation that ease the tension away. “Am I an audience member or a volunteer?” You grimace suddenly. “Wait, fuck, it isn’t like a circus act or something, right? You aren’t a magician?”

“Don’t worry, the show won’t be that kind of magic,” he promises.

You go to reply, but your attention is caught by the way Jungkook is openly glaring at Namjoon like he’s waiting for something. “Kook?” you question.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. “Why aren’t you saying anything now, Namjoon? So they get to talk about sex but I can’t?”

Jin sucks in harshly through his teeth, sending a look of alarm to the youngest. “Okay, break it up, that’s enough. Jungkook, any more smart comments and you can leave. We’ll talk privately if you need it.”

Jungkook lets out a bitter scoff, but Namjoon is already rising hastily, banging the edge of the table in his haste to get up. “I’ll go,” he urges, “you all can enjoy your breakfast in peace.”

Nobody seems to even breathe as the sounds of Namjoon’s footsteps fade away, a door upstairs shutting harshly.

Yoongi has his face bent, thumb and forefinger pressing to his forehead, like a headache is coming on. “What the fuck was that?” he muses tiredly.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames.

You bite your tongue harshly, unsettled by how tempers flared so quickly. Unsure of what to do, you stare at Jungkook for a moment. You don’t want it to seem like you’re picking a side, but he has five others around him, and Namjoon is upstairs alone. You slide your chair out, quieter than last time. “I’m just going to check on him. Jungkook; you’re fine, I’m not angry.”

He breaks out of his death stare at his breakfast to send you a look of bewilderment, but Yoongi is already clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I am,” the second eldest declares, and you rush upstairs before the scolding begins.

Namjoon answers, albeit reluctantly, when you knock on the door and call out to him. He’s well and truly awake and alert now, hair combed down sullenly, the purple looking more faded than ever against the rich blue of his long-sleeved t-shirt. “Are you okay?” he asks with a tired frown.

Your brows lift automatically. “That is the exact question I came up here to ask. Can I come in?”

His bedroom is even more tidy than usual, now that he hasn’t been sleeping there. You sit down on the edge of his bed, feeling an unsettling swirl of dread.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook,” is the first thing out of his mouth as he sits down beside you, shoulders hunched like he’s making himself as small as possible.

You shake your head slowly. “You shouldn’t apologise on other people’s behalf. He’ll say sorry if he wants to.”

Namjoon pauses for a moment. “Then I’m sorry about contributing to the uncomfortable atmosphere.”

Despite the situation, your mouth quirks into a grin and your eyes soften. “Forgiven. I’m more worried than angry, you know? About the both of you.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh, eyes dancing aimlessly around the room, no doubt pondering complex concepts at the speed of light like he usually was. “This is probably to be expected, right? Tension. I didn’t think I’d be the one involved, though.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t be a reality show without some drama,” you allow, scooting back on the bed so you can tuck your feet up, crossing your legs. “We’ve just gotta move past it, I guess.”

“Didn’t it make you uncomfortable?” Namjoon blurts suddenly, cringing at the volume of his voice. “Him talking about you so publicly like that?”

You run your tongue along the inside of your cheek. “It took me off guard for sure. I don’t know; I guess sex is kind of our currency in here, you know? Him being so, uh, bold about it out of nowhere is pretty weird, though.” You shrug it off. “Maybe he slept bad last night.”

Namjoon searches your face. “I’m too much of a prude, aren’t I? Things like that bother me, so why did I sign up for a porn show?”

You turn to face him, brows knitted in sympathy. “Just because others are more open doesn’t mean being modest is a bad thing. Don’t let Jungkook’s bad mood make you believe that you don’t belong on the show or that you need to change. Okay?”

The two of you share a tender moment of eye contact, before Namjoon laughs shyly and turns his head away. You grin at him. “What?”

“It’s stupid,” Namjoon deflects, “it’s not the time.”

“Not the time for what?” you press. “Tell me; I’m curious now.”

Namjoon’s eyes dart up, pausing briefly at your lips. “I just… I really wanted to kiss you.”

Your heart swells, but you keep your face open, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “Then you should kiss me.”

All the breath leaves his lungs in a rush, but before he can inhale again, he’s propelling himself forward, wide hands cradling your jaw steady so your lips can join, a little uncoordinated but perfect nonetheless.

The small whimper of surprise is muffled by his lips, but you quickly melt into him, hands clutching at the front of his shirt for stability.

You can taste the remnants of breakfast, the sweet stickiness of maple syrup on his lips. You deepen the kiss to seek out more of the flavour, breaths escaping your nose as you don’t dare part for a second. Namjoon seems equally enraptured, shy flicks of his tongue making your head spin.

You lean in until your wrists are pinned between his chest and yours, and then lean in more, wanting to be close. Like oxygen to fire, the more contact you get the more desperate you become, and when his hands lower to lift you easily onto his lap, grinding you unconsciously against his erection, you feel ablaze.

“I need to-nm-do my prompt,” Namjoon murmurs out, teeth catching on your tongue with how deeply you kiss.

You swallow, leaning back slightly to take a breath in. “We don’t have to now,” you assure, moving your hands up to stabilise yourself on his shoulders so that he cranes his neck up to chase your lips. “Or have you graduated from Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess already.”

You smile down at the way his eyes flutter shut with a crooked grin, delicate crescent moon lash line a deep brown against his tanned skin. His lips are flushed and swollen, and he swallows like a man parched before he speaks, blinking blearily up at you. “I prefer to learn on the job,” he quips hoarsely.

You grin, leaning down to nudge him slightly to the side with your nose, giving you a better angle to leave a trail of light kisses from the corner of his mouth to the top of his jaw, tugging on his earlobe just enough that you feel his dick twitch against you. “What’s it gonna be, then? Am I a naughty student? Slacking receptionist? Do I need to sign for a package, delivery boy?”

The chuckle Namjoon lets out is pained and reluctant. “Was that what you were hoping for? It’s a bit more romantic than that.”

“Romantic is good,” you assure, letting his arms on your hips hold you steady as you lean back and search his face. “Do I get any more clues? Tell me something.”

When he blinks up at you, there’s something open and earnest in his gaze, like he’s left behind that shy boy that blushes at any mention of sex. “Let me show you, love.”

He cradles your back and lays you down on his bed so delicately it takes your breath away. Without speaking, he presses his lips to yours again, and once again you feel unanchored in an ocean, kept floating by the pressure of his proximity. Slower than usual, you move against each other; his hands bracing him up by the pillow, your leg hitched up over his waist to keep him close. Between the soft cushioning of his bed and the solid heat of his body, you feel secure and safe, eyes closed so that he fills your other senses entirely.

The sweetness of the maple syrup on his tongue and lips has long since melted away, but it leaves behind his natural flavour, one you think you prefer more. Aftershave still clings to his cheeks, tingling your nostrils, but past it is the bright candylike scent of his orange blossom shampoo, and they mix dizzily as the ends of his hair brush your skin.

Need begins to pool between your legs, but it doesn’t drive you, instead staying muted in the background like the pleasant heat of a bubbling jacuzzi, hips rocking lazily without any true purpose as you focus on the shocks of pleasure when your tongues connect.

It’s impossible to tell how long the two of you stay like that, no urgency or haste, just enjoying the intimacy and closeness of shared breaths and swollen lips. When he trails a hand down to slip under your shirt, even his slightly calloused fingertips running up your side is enough to make you whimper, sensitised to every touch.

Namjoon groans when his palm covers your breast, gripping it and swiping a thumb over your stiffened peak, arousing even through the fabric of your bra, his mouth only leaving yours for the second it takes to push your shirt over and off, connecting again with a small grunt of need.

Though Namjoon’s body is hot like a furnace against you, the open air still causes you to shiver, arching your back so Namjoon can blindly locate the hooks on your bra, able to slip it off you in no time at all.

This time, when his teeth tug at your lip and you feel the uninhibited contact of his fingertip tracing a circle around your nipple, it’s like a spike of electricity straight to your core, igniting that spark of full-blown arousal. Namjoon’s lips quirk against yours when you let a moan catch in your throat.

When he shifts down, you’re expecting his mouth on your breast, or perhaps him to sit up to take his own clothes off, but he doesn’t go nearly that far. Instead he presses your jaw up, exposing your neck but laying kisses on the underside of your chin first.

Perhaps it’s that you weren’t expecting that touch, or perhaps such a unique place isn’t used to that type of attention, but his swollen lips caressing just below your jaw feels magical, eyelids fluttering as he sucks so, so gently.

His hand never leaves your breast, massaging the flesh, tracing where your regular skin pebbles into the dusky areola, nail dragging teasingly over the bud, and your mind is working itself into knots trying to process all the sensations he’s stirring in you.

If his first time was thrilling, this was nothing short of electric, neon bursts of colour behind your eyelids the only thing you can see. As his kisses slowly venture lower, dipping to the base of your neck, pulse throbbing against him, you picture your nerve endings like purple strands of electricity in a plasma ball, lighting up with every touch of his fingers, lips and tongue to your skin.

“Na-Namjoon,” you gasp out, swallowing to ease the dryness in your throat, “don’t tease, I need you.”

Namjoon shifts lower, but not low enough, chin resting on your chest as he looks up at you with a pleased smile, clearly satisfied with his improvement from last time. “But love, there’s no rush. We have the rest of our lives, remember? To have and to hold,” he rumbles lowly, pressing two light kisses to the top of your heaving breasts, “til death do us part.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

Namjoon’s lip twitches. “Oh,” he repeats playfully. Goosebumps break out on the tops of your arms at this sudden brazenness. He’d clearly been doing plenty of talking with Hoseok, and to see his hard work pay off in your pleasured reactions probably gave him a burst of confidence. “Are you going to be patient for me now, love? Let me savour you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, so you just nod shakily.

Satisfied with your response, Namjoon quirks a lip before using the very tip of his tongue to trail a circle around your nipple, just wide enough that the bud strains for his attention. Your fingers clutch his sides, annoyingly still clothed, as he moves to the other one, still giving your nipple a wide berth. “C-come on, Joonie,” you complain hoarsely, “I need more.”

When he looks up at you from below his lashes and sucks one nipple slowly into his mouth, tongue pressing it against his upper teeth, you hiss sharply, releasing the air in a breathy moan. Namjoon suckles at you gently, still languid but no longer avoiding your most sensitive areas, and the hand not propping him up begins rolling the other one between his fingers, making you shudder.

You’re so wet between your legs it’s growing uncomfortable, and so you cant your hips up towards him, hoping he gets the message. He tuts at you, but pulls off your nipple with a wet pop and sits up to undress further.

Namjoon shucks his own shirt without ceremony before his fingers find your waistband, and you let him slide off your pants and underwear as you lie back and enjoy the sight of his thick chest and smooth stomach, a trail of dark baby hairs disappearing past his jeans that you didn’t remember noticing the first time you slept with him.

He takes off those jeans, his boxers too, and joins you on the bed again, running a warm palm up your side. “I want to taste you,” he announces simply, carding a hand through his hair to keep it out of your face.

“Fuck, please.” You watch with wide eyes as he lies on his stomach, hands dipping under your thighs to lift and part them. The exposed air has you clenching instinctively, and you swear you can see his eyes dilate at the sight. “Namjoon,” you whine, back arching in impatience.

“Shh, love, I’ve got you,” he assures, peppering kisses from just below your knees, down your thighs until you can feel his breath on your core. “So beautiful.”

You can barely breathe, head propped up on the pillow to stare down the plains of your chest and stomach to the insanely attractive man between your legs. Though you’d grown fond of the kinkier, wild scenes - in fact, your dreams at night had taken a turn since joining the show - something about seeing Namjoon so at his element in this domestic atmosphere has you dripping.

Like he has all the time in the world, he locks eyes with you and blows a wave of slightly cool air over your folds. You breathe out a groan, sending him what you hope is a convincing-enough pleading gaze. He smiles placidly, licks his lips, ducks his head even further, and-

And blows another stream, this time narrowed and colder, directly over your clit. You shudder and buck instinctively in his grip, his hands on your thighs keeping you spread.

“Come on,” you gasp out, “Hoseok’s made you into a fucking demon!”

“Oh, trust me,” Namjoon murmurs, “Hoseok’s version was way kinkier than this. I’m trying to be romantic and sensual.”

You shift again, fruitlessly trying to wiggle your hips closer. “It would be really fucking romantic if you would actually put your mouth on my-ah!”

Just like you know Hoseok would (you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for this), Namjoon strikes when you least expect it, and when you most need it.

Though his mouth is small, his tongue is no less nimble, darting deeply through your folds to collect your juices and using them to slurp harshly at your clit. You jerk, hand shooting down to latch in his hair, but he continues that constant, unyielding vacuum until you’re squirming hopelessly beneath him, finally pulling off with the slightest graze of teeth.

“Happy now?” he retorts, swollen lips glossy with your slick. His hands tighten on your thighs. “Hold them.”

Invigorated by his command, you rush to grasp the backs of your knees, keeping your legs up and spread for him. “Fuck, so good, Joonie, w-want more.”

Now with two hands freed, it’s no surprise when two fingers find their way into your wet heat, twisting inside you with every smooth thrust. His chin is smeared with your wetness when he lowers it to continue laving his tongue over your sensitive clit, but he groans sinfully into you, like he’s getting just as much pleasure from it as you are.

Once he really gets going, he’s merciless, his fingers so thick that you don’t even need a third one to really feel him filling you, hooking up to rub at your g-spot every now and again to hear the involuntary whimpers you give out.

You hold onto your own knees for dear life, writhing under him as a hot coil tightens inside you. “Fu-fuck, Joonie, I’m getting close.”

His mouth detaches from your clit for a bare moment, enough for him to pant out a groan and stare lustily up at you. “Don’t cum yet,” he instructs lowly, “you’re going to cum on my cock this time, love.”

You whine, biting your lip harshly to try and distract from the building pleasure. “Then you have to- have to stop, Joonie,” you shudder out reluctantly.

To your surprise, Namjoon is even more begrudging than you are, tugging out his fingers to chase a last few indulgent licks up your seam before he finally sits up to kneel, panting. “Are you ready for me?”

You feel yourself grow impossibly wetter at the sight of him grasping his length, slipping it through your folds to slick it up. “Yes, god yes, I need it, need your cock,” you garble.

Namjoon’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, before he presses his head to your entrance, sinking in barely an inch to test your reaction. “Can’t wait to fill you up, love,” he admits, abs clenching with the effort it takes to sink in slowly. “Fuck a baby into you, my perfect girl.”

Your heart races at his words, clenching around. “God, yes, Joonie, please.” Though all the Gentlemen were well aware you were on birth control, there was something wildly erotic about the thought of it. “Fill me up, wanna be good for you.”

Finally he bottoms out, and your thighs shake at the stretch. With your hips tilted up, it almost feels like he’s fucking right into your stomach, so deep your mind struggles to process the sensations. He heaves a few breaths, giving you a chance to squeeze around him experimentally and grow accustomed to him filling you so completely.

You mumble out your permission for him to move breathily, the air punched out of your lungs when he pulls out only to drive deep inside of you in one slick thrust. Your mouth drops open once he begins to thrust, holding onto your knees for dear life as they tremble uncontrollably.

“God, look at you,” Namjoon pants out, chest heaving with excitement or exertion, perhaps a mix of both. One of his palms presses against the top of your stomach, increasing the pressure of his cock inside you. “‘Be so beautiful with my baby inside you, love, tummy swollen. I’ll take good care of you, would you like that?”

You have to squeeze your eyes shut to put all your focus into speaking. “Ye-yeah, I want that, Joonie,” you manage to articulate, his length keeping your mouth watering whenever he’s inside you. “Gonna be such a good daddy, Joon.”

Like a switch being flicked, Namjoon suddenly jerks, going rigid. Your eyes open blearily when he stills inside you, and you moan openly at the fucked-out look on his face, his eyes lidded and hair wild.

“S-say that again,” he commands, and your mouth drops open at the desperate grate to his voice.

So Namjoon liked to be called… “Daddy,” you whine experimentally, grinning when his cock twitches, hips juddering. “Want you to fuck me, Daddy, please move.”

“God, love, so fucking perfect for me,” he makes out before he starts off again with a renewed vigor, hands kneading at your breasts, at the flesh of your hips, at your ass as he lifts you up to meet his every thrust.

The feeling of him fucking into you so intensely has you feeling delirious, unsure if the ringing in your ears is actually the sounds of your own cries, torn from your throat with every slap of his balls against your ass, the weight of his hips jerking you into the pillow more and more every time.

You feel the pressure of his body hovering just above you, the angle of his thrusts changing, then suddenly his mouth is on your breast again, sucking harshly at the nipple. With the way your body moves beneath him, he can’t help but scrape his teeth against you a couple times, but it just makes the pleasure soar higher, neon starbusts of colour behind your eyelids when you squeeze them closed.

“Close again,” you warn desperately, losing the grip on one of your knees due to the sweat gathering there. With one up and one down, the angle changes again, and you reach out blindly to latch onto his upper arm, screaming at the heights of pleasure. “Can I cum this time, Daddy, please let me cum!”

“Fuck, give it to me, cum for me,” he growls out around your breast, and you see stars.

The orgasm that rips through you is powerful enough that all your senses fade suddenly away, unable to feel anything expect a rush of pleasure all the way down to your toes, boneless yet convulsing as he pistons his hips into you once, twice, three more times until he’s taken by the way you clench tightly around him.

He laps clumsily, wetly at your nipple as he spills inside you, before the two of you are completely drained of energy. Panting, heaving, you don’t even manage to catch your breath before you’re falling into slumber, Namjoon still inside you.

“He told us to wait here, right?” you ask anxiously.

There are six of you gathered on the couches in the lounge. Television off, the silence is weirdly uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s just because you know that everyone is waiting here not only to see Jimin, but to see what Jimin is going to do to you.

Hoseok, tucked into the smallest corner of the couch on the right, huffs lightly at your question. “He’s Jimin, Y/n. Either he’s up there primping or he’s just making you wait to be obnoxious.”

Perched beside him with a glass of whisky, two fingers full, Yoongi sends a droll glare to Hoseok. “Bold words for a man who’s choosing to watch the show.”

“I’m curious, sue me.”

“I think we all are,” Namjoon adds, curled up beside you in the central position of the three couches. “I think the only one that knows his prompt is Tae.”

Taehyung turns to answer, propped up against Jin’s side on the left, but the eldest interrupts, a crease of worry between his brows. “Not all of us, it seems,” he points out. “Don’t you find it strange that Jungkook isn’t here?”

“Does he know?” Taehyung wonders, fingers dipping into his pocket to reach for his phone.

Yoongi frowns. “He knows. He asked me not to make him anything for dinner tonight. Said he wasn’t feeling well. Didn’t seem like he was sick, just… distressed. I think you should talk with him, Jin.”

Jin sucks in a breath, pauses, and exhales again, jaw flexing. “Sure.”

The six of you lapse into a slightly strained silence again, before Namjoon gets restless, shifting beside you until he finally clears his throat and looks up at Yoongi. “What is for dinner, hyung?”

“We didn’t really have much for lunch, so I’m thinking steak and pasta,” the doctor offers up. “There’s some carbonara sauce in the pantry that looks good.”

Taehyung coughs nervously. “Do we have steak? I didn’t think there were-”

“We had plenty this morning when I checked,” Yoongi cuts in evenly. “Should I be aware of any recent developments?”

The masseuse pouts, leaning further into Jin’s side like he’ll protect him. “Well… It’s just that I feel so bad for Mango! The kennel I bought online isn’t as insulated as I hoped it would be and I know she gets lonely.”

Yoongi groans, going lax on the leather of the couch. “So you figured she’d what? Cuddle with the steaks?”

“I just figured maybe if I gave her nice food she’d cheer up,” Taehyung adds, “and it was just two! Are you mad at me?”

“No, I guess I’m not. Jungkook isn’t eating anyway, and…” Yoongi grins. “As penance, you can have plain pasta and watch the rest of us enjoy our perfectly cooked steaks.”

Taehyung throws himself against Jin dramatically, but even as he moans in misery, a relieved smile crooks at his lips. “I suppose,” he drawls begrudgingly, and once again a light atmosphere fills the room, like everyone’s just sighed out a breath of relief.

You lean onto the arm of the couch, facing Taehyung. “Tae, Jimin’s prompt isn’t too, like, intense, right?”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean? For him or for you?”

“Uh…” Your mind whirls blankly, cheeks heating up as you draw the attention of the other guys. “For- for me. So far some of the scenes have been pretty taxing, and I guess I just didn’t expect such a jump up from Week One.”

Instead of laughing or teasing, the others go a little solemn, perhaps even bashful. “Jimin’s isn’t super crazy, Y/n, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures quickly.

Yoongi bites down hard on his tongue, jaw popping. “We didn’t go too hard on you, did we?”

You suck in a breath. “I mean- No, not individually. It builds up though, you know?” Something niggles in the back of your mind, something you’ve wondered for a while. “Do you guys talk about it?”

Hoseok hesitates. “About fucking you?”

Your cheeks are on fire as you curl up small in the corner. “Not- Not that specifically, but just… Do you guys discuss who goes when and who has what? I kinda wondered why you spread yourselves out, if it’s just a coincidence or if you- Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“We kinda do,” Hoseok admits freely. “Like, obviously we don’t all sit down in a room brainstorming or something-” You don’t miss the way Taehyung and Namjoon instinctively lock gazes, though you can’t quite read their expressions. Hoseok continues, “but we do chat with each other and try and give each other space.”

Jin shrugs easily. “Yeah, like, I’ll just say in the groupchat, ‘I’m planning on doing my scene outside, look outside at your own risk’ or whatever.” The eldest stiffens as he’s fixed with several glares of alarm, including your own. “What? Were we not meant to tell her about the groupchat?”

Your mouth drops open. “You guys have a groupchat without me? I wanna see!”

“That defeats the purpose of you not being in the group chat,” Yoongi points out, though his grin is more sheepish than mischievous.

You make a noise of exasperation, ready to protest further, but before you can open your mouth the doorbell rings.

Everyone freezes.

After a moment, the doorbell rings again.

“You should go get it,” Taehyung supplies helpfully, eyes on you. “Might be interesting.”

Your heart picks up with the cool thread of adrenaline. It’s time. All eyes are on you as you sit up and make your way out to the foyer, the tile cool under your bare feet.

Though the door is a rich mahogany, clouded glass panels on either side betray a dark figure, perfectly still. Even though you can barely see the outline, there’s no deny the expectant tilt of their head belongs to none other than Jimin.

By the time you pad up to the door and turn the knob, his hand is outstretched to ring the bell a third time, and his mouth parts in surprise before giving you a pleasant beam.

You’d been wondering if he was meant to be a delivery guy, a mechanic, something along those lines, but your first glance over him proves you wrong.

His blue hair is glossy enough to reflect the light of the lamp above the doorway, curled in graceful swoops on his forehead and temples. Though he always wore makeup, it was clear he’s set to impress, with a bold russet red lip, powerful black eyeliner and a spot of gold under each eye.

He’s taller than usual, and you glance down automatically, to be greeted with the most gorgeous black heels, stiletto points giving him an extra few inches of height. The shoes make his legs look a mile long, and you suck in a breath as you follow them up, realising they’re completely bare, the only adornment a sinfully tight pair of black fishnets that dig in to his thighs and calves.

In fact, all he seems to be wearing otherwise is a black trenchcoat, falling to mid-thigh and with the sash tied so tightly it accentuates his narrow waist.

All put together, he looks like sin personified, the kind sailors drown for. You can’t help but want to dive in yourself. Trying to go along with the roleplay, you play dumb. “Do I, uh, do I know you?”

Jimin’s smile broadens as his arm falls, hand resting snugly on his hip. “You will soon, sweetness.” Usually one for pinks, nudes and clear glosses, seeing him suddenly in a deep red makes you realise just how full his lips are. You miss the feeling of them on you. “Did Taehyung not tell you I was coming?”

“Did Tae-?” You clear your throat, unsure how to proceed. This Jimin was Amazonian; bruisingly pretty and intimidating in his grace. “I guess not? Was he supposed to?”

His eyes crinkle empathetically, darting past you into the foyer. “Let’s talk inside, shall we? I’m not exactly dressed for the outdoors.”

“Oh, fuck!” you blurt instinctively, and you swear his lip twitches before you’re backing away hastily, ushering him inside. “I’m so sorry, please come in! Do you want me to take your coat? I don’t- I don’t know what you need.”

Jimin steps inside and closes the door behind him in one smooth motion, punctuated only by the click of his heels on the tile. He reaches out to pat your cheek, only somewhat condescendingly. “No wonder, sweetness, you didn’t even know I was coming.” That isn’t quite true, but in the scheme of things, you may as well not have known he was doing his scene tonight at all for all it’s helping you. “Why don’t you lead me to Taehyung? I assume he’s here.”

“Of course he’s- I mean, yes, he’s here. Right this way.”

The two of you only have a short trip to the lounge, where no doubt the other five have been straining their ears to eavesdrop, but every strike of his heels against the floor behind you has the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

In the lounge, the guys are all turned around in their seats to shamelessly ogle Jimin, Taehyung the only one without the gobsmacked look on his face - though even he takes in an unsteady breath at how gorgeous the man looks.

You make your way to him, standing awkwardly in front of the couch that him and Jin share. Turning back to face Jimin, you can’t help but match Taehyung’s reaction. Jimin looks even more radiant in the decent lighting of the room. You can see now his trenchcoat is a lush fabric, slightly thicker than silk, and deeply matte. Around the inside of the collar is a faint embossed silver logo, promoting Chanel as the designer of that piece.

Ignoring the stunned silence of the room, Jimin slinks immediately to Taehyung, tipping his chin up with his knuckles. “Did you not tell Y/n about me, hm?” he questions with a faux pout. “Kept it a secret, our naughty Taehyungie.”

The masseuse wilts pleadingly under Jimin’s gaze, and the responding wicked grin makes you think that Jimin probably told him to keep quiet, only to tell him off for it now. “Sorry, Minnie,” Taehyung mutters nonetheless. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Did you now?” Jimin lets go of him, stepping back. “I suppose we should get down to business, then. Are you all leaving, or do I have an audience tonight?” Glancing around imperiously, you watch as his eyes dart back and forth, smile faltering. His breath catches, eyes dull with disappointment that he quickly masks under a broad smile. “It’s just the six of you, then?”

Your heart aches as you think of the missing person still upstairs in his room. “Yeah, it’s just us.”

Always the professional, Jimin moves on without comment. “Well, then, sweetness; take a seat and get comfortable. You’re a lucky girl tonight.”

Your mouth feels dry even as it waters. Taking your seat beside Namjoon again, you watch in rapt anticipation as Jimin slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, fiddling with something on it as he strolls slowly into the center of the room, just in front of the television.

“We have a few rules,” Jimin announces. “No heckling, no getting drunk while I’m here, and no touching unless I give you permission. They’re simple, so I expect you to follow them. Got it?”

With his back to the group as he sets up his phone, you’re unsure who exactly he’s addressing, but some of you make general hums of confirmation, all the attention on Jimin.

When the music starts - a deep, thrumming beat with a sensual pace - you can see the change in him immediately, even from the back. His shoulders adjust, head tips back slightly like he’s letting it run through him, and his fingers find the knot of his sash.

You can barely comprehend the fact that Jimin is about to dance for you, breath caught in your throat when his hips begin to sway and the fabric of his trenchcoat loosens, slipping down just enough to reveal the tops of his shoulders, bare except two skinny black straps.

Following the groove of the music, he rocks his head back, hips shifting side to side, and lets the coat fall an inch at a time. A tight black bodice is revealed, structured leather with a soft velvet trim that covers most of his back. Sleeves dangling right at the ends of his fingertips, the coat dips just below the swells of his ass, which are clad in a racy g-string, a thicker band of lace low across his hips and a narrow one running down the middle of his cheeks. Letting the coat go completely, the last of his back silhouette is exposed, the leather garter straps that hold those fishnet stockings up.

“Shit!” Yoongi hisses under his breath, hands glinting in the light and whiskey glass significantly emptier than before. A dark patch spreads across one leg of his pants, evidence of him spilling his drink.

Though he was quiet, Jimin picks up on it, and turns smoothly, lightly surprised and heavily amused, watching Yoongi squirm in embarrassment as he approaches.

If the view from the back is breathtaking, seeing Jimin full-frontal is another level. The bodice has clearly been tailored for someone with a flat chest, but the shape no less speaks to the feminine style of a bra, roughly triangular leather covering the upper half of his chest to meet the smooth velvet straps. The whole piece is just short enough that it leaves a stripe of skin between fabrics, his hipbones jutting out gracefully and guiding your gaze lower, where the front of his lace panties strain with the size of his length, the tip threatening to peek out the top.

He’s hard, you notice with a start, and from the hazy look on everyone’s faces, they’ve noticed it too. Jimin likes this.

When he’s standing in front of Yoongi, towering over the other in his heels, he reaches out a hand silently, eyes darting to the glass in Yoongi’s hand.

The elder gulps, holding it up, blushing as Jimin wraps one hand around Yoongi’s wrist, and takes the glass from him with the other. In a graceful swill, he downs the last of Yoongi’s whiskey, not even wincing. Teasingly, he bends down to place the empty glass directly over Yoongi’s crotch, making him hiss.

Like he has all the time in the world, Jimin straightens up again and tugs the wrist in his grasp higher. Locking eyes, Jimin parts his lips and wraps them around the base of Yoongi’s thumb, sucking off the spilt liquor.

Yoongi groans lowly, cheeks stained red as his eyes flutter shut in a mix of pleasure and humiliation. As Jimin makes his way through all of Yoongi’s fingers, bobbing his head obscenely and swirling his tongue, you think you see the empty glass wobble on Yoongi’s lap, like his cock is twitching in his pants. Fuck. It’s not even you getting the full weight of Jimin’s attention and you already feel dizzy with need.

Once he’s done, Jimin lets go and Yoongi’s hand falls limply to his side. Satisfied, he moves to the center of the room again, hips fluid with the flow of the music.

A cursory glance around the room shows that you’re not the only one heavily affected. Beside you Namjoon is restless, shifting back and forth from spreading his legs to ease the pressure, and clenching them together to try and hide the bulge in his pants. Hoseok looks pale, eyes wide and locked onto Jimin’s ass as he walks away from their couch.

On the other side, Taehyung and Jin are significantly more shameless; Jin rests a hand on the back of Tae’s neck and tugs at the curls of hair there as the younger boy ruts against his thigh, curled into his side even as the two of them focus on the attraction in the centre of the room.

You can only imagine how fucked out you must look too, wriggling against the couch cushion seeking friction with your heart thudding in your chest. The effect is only heightened when Jimin locks his eyes to you and begins to dance.

One day, a few of you were gathered in this very lounge, having enough drinks to get a bit silly and uncoordinated. Jimin had told you all a little bit about his dancing career. From what he’d said, you formed this mental image of him in soft makeup and satin shoes, dainty but powerful in front of an adoring crowd. The way he spoke about music - too much of a heavyweight to be as incoherent as the rest of you - made it seem like it was his greatest love, a match made in heaven.

Though now pirouettes and grand jetés had been replaced by spread legs and lidded eyes, you could still see that passion he spoke of. It enchanted you like a snake charmer or a siren, and arousal entwines endlessly with awe in your stomach.

After what feels like the shortest eternity, the music of the first song fades out, and Jimin straightens up, exhaling a breath like he’s releasing its hold from his body to make room for the next.

The tune that fills the room next has a decently higher tempo than the first one, each beat punctuated by a clap, and he grins when he hears it, stalking forwards.

Between Jimin and the rest of you is a coffee table, and he makes his way around to Taehyung and Jin, eyes sparkling at how Taehyung straddles Jin’s thigh, blinking up at the dancer owlishly.

“Oh, baby,” Jimin coos, “enjoying the show?”

Taehyung nods, not shy but too wound up to speak.

At the lack of verbal response, Jimin grins, perching himself on Jin’s other thigh, making the eldest hiss. “Taehyungie,” Jimin calls in a sing-song voice, fingers winding into his hair, just above Jin’s, “you still haven’t paid me for my services, you know?”

“H-huh?” Poor Taehyung looks barely coherent, interrupted from his grind and staring weakly at Jimin’s glossy lips. You can’t imagine you’d be faring any better in his situation. “What- How do I pay you?”

Jimin faux pouts. “Normally I’m very expensive,” he admits lowly, but the room is silent apart from the music, and since it’s just playing from his phone, it doesn’t impede the rest of you listening in. “But I like you. I’ll take my payment tomorrow. You know what I mean, right?”

Taehyung nods dumbly, obediently, making the dancer grin wickedly.

Fixing his attention on Jin, Jimin trails his fingertips up his thigh and traces the outline of Jin’s cock in his makes, making him groan. “Take good care of my baby tonight, won’t you?”

Jin sucks in a shaky breath, eyes darting to Taehyung, but the curly-haired boy just whines and buries his face in the crook of Jin’s neck, a wordless display. “You got it, Min.”

From the other side of the room, a click of the tongue catches your attention. Hoseok is straight-faced, extricating himself from the corner of the couch to stand up and make his way out.

Jimin swiftly stands in front of him to impede his way. “Where are you going?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes with a shrug. “I came, I saw, I sated my curiosity. I’m not interested in waiting in line to be fondled, thank you very much.”

Jimin seems to have forgotten the music, eyes gleaming as he faces off the dom. “Poor baby too impatient to wait, hm? I’ll let you jump the queue,” he finishes in a husky voice, grinning.

Hoseok eyes the doorway behind Jimin, huffing impatiently. “Nice try. I’m not interested.”

Tipping his head to the side, Jimin’s brows lift in a mix of surprise and bemusement. “I’m inclined to disagree,” he says, taking a step closer so that only a sliver of air parts them. Hoseok stiffens, stubbornly avoiding looking at the dancer. “I’d venture a guess that you’re leaving so suddenly because you’re a little too interested.” Slow enough that Hoseok has plenty of time to refuse, Jimin runs his knuckles all the way down Hoseok’s front, brushing over his crotch. His grin widens, flashing white teeth. “Hmm.”

Hoseok scoffs and pulls himself away, neck and forehead slightly red. “Don’t get too cocky. It was from Taehyung, not from you, peaches.”

Even from the other side of the room, Jimin’s instinctual reaction is clear as day. His shoulders drop and his lips part, lashes fluttering before he can control the response.

If you didn’t miss it, Hoseok certainly didn’t either. He barks out a laugh, back in power again, and steps to Jimin’s side to pass him. “Knew it. Don’t miss me too much, then, peaches.”

Even as Jimin is shuddering at the petname again, Hoseok rears his hand back to smack Jimin’s ass with a sharp noise of impact, Jimin jumping forward with a startled squeak. “No touching!” the dancer hisses, one ass cheek already flooding with a sweet candy pink.

“Apologies,” Hoseok says with a teasing grin, already at the doorway, “I’ll see myself out.”

Jimin makes an indignant cry, but the older man is already bouncing up the stairs cheerfully. Determined to get the sexy atmosphere back, Jimin takes a deep breath and turns back to you all with a rueful smile, but it falters when the music fades out, the second song ending. “Ah,” he murmurs, “show’s over, kids.”

Namjoon, the only guy that hadn’t received any personal attention, sits up with a frown. “Wait, already?”

Jimin shrugs, smiling at him sweetly. “Sorry, Joon. Last song’s a private dance. Maybe another time.”

A private dance. Your breath quickens as Jimin turns off the next song that randomly came up on shuffle, collects his phone, and hitches his coat off the floor with the point of a stiletto, gathering it under his arm.

The others quietly start to stretch, sit up, Yoongi going to fill up his glass again. By the time Jimin makes his way to you, Jin has already lifted Tae up with a single arm under him, carrying the younger upstairs as Taehyung sucks shamelessly at his neck. Namjoon is slower to move, probably still a little worked up and edged from the show, but he joins Yoongi in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone.

Once Jimin is directly in front of you, your breath stops. He’s gathered the lightest sheen of sweat from dancing, or perhaps that’s just the highlighter on his cheeks, and his eyes are hazed from the excitement of performing. He silently reaches a hand out to you with an enticing smirk.

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Not here?”

“I did say private. Unless you want me to fuck you where everyone can see?”

You gulp at the thinly veiled threat. “We can go.” You take his hand and let him lift you up with effortless strength, pausing when he looks at you expectantly. “Did I do something…?”

Jimin beams like you’re a cute but stupid pet. “I haven’t been here before, remember? Show me to your room, sweetness.”

“Oh!” You rush past him, hands catching to guide him out and upstairs. The thrill of excitement speeds your steps, and in no time at all he’s placing his coat and phone on your desk, guiding you to sit on the end of the bed.

The third song starts with the familiar smoothness of Beyonce’s voice, an older pop song that holds up still, and Jimin slips off the black straps of the bodice, another set directly below them. Arms tucking behind him, he begins to undo the clasps one by one.

“You were being very well behaved, you know, sitting there and waiting for your turn,” he muses, fiddling with the fabric behind him. “Now you get a reward.”

You don’t know what to say in response, just nodding wordlessly, but it seems he is content with that. After a moment, you notice the top half of the bodice pull away from his chest lightly, revealing not plain skin but more lace, matching the panties that struggle to cover his cock. He approaches you as he undoes the last few at the base, and slips smoothly between your legs, letting it fall to the side.

In front of you in all his glory, Jimin looks gorgeous, the inky swoops of his tattoo peeking out from under a sweet black lace bralette, the skinniest straps holding up the delicate cups. In the center is a tiny black satin bow, and you think you feel your heart give out a little at the sight of it.

Even in his pretty lingerie, he’s no less intimidating, and you shudder at the feeling of his eyes locked onto you, feeding on your reactions and pinning you to the bed.

“You like it?” the dancer asks, voice rough with arousal. You nod quickly, still too stunned for words. Jimin hums, winding a hand around the back of your neck. “Show me how much you like it.”

Before you can suck in a breath, his mouth descends on yours, and a shot of electricity runs through you as he spares no time for pecks and caresses. This kiss is nothing short of filthy, his tongue runs over your teeth, he bites your lips, he sucks on your tongue. You do your best to reciprocate enthusiastically, but there’s no question who’s in charge.

With how deep and primal it is, there’s no surprise when you feel your shared spit begin to collect in the corners of your lips and run down your chin. Jimin doesn’t stop, but lowers his mouth to lap it up, pushing it back in and continuing to fuck his tongue into your mouth.

You moan hopelessly into the kiss, hips rocking on the edge of the mattress fruitlessly and fingers holding on to his neck and shoulder for dear life. His teeth are sharp, nipping mercilessly at your bottom lip until your eyes sting, but it only serves to drive more need.

The music in the background livens up as it reaches the chorus, and suddenly the thought of the song finishing and him leaving you high and dry comes to mind. You tug yourself away from him, sucking the spit off your swollen lip. “Jimin,” you gasp out, “I want you.”

Jimin grins. Though his gloss is all but gone, the colour on his lips remains intact. “You aren’t gonna let me finish my dance, sweetness?”

“Wi-Will you still fuck me after the song ends?” you ask, feeling stupid for needing confirmation.

Jimin lets out a soft but condescending coo, hands squeezing your cheeks together so that your lips pout. “Poor baby just wants to get fucked, does she? Baby just wants a cock in her.”

Even as he mocks you, you can’t even defend yourself. “Please, Jiminie.”

He places a single light peck over your protruding and obscenely swollen lips. “Let’s make a deal; I’ll dance for the rest of the song, and if you can keep your hands to yourself, I’ll let you cum when I fuck you. Sound fair?”

At this point, you’d agree to anything, and both of you know it. “I can do it,” you insist even as your voice wobbles.

Instead of answering, Jimin begins to move, following the momentum of the music. Your hands lie at their sides, the duvet cool against your heated flesh.

He starts out easy, stepping back to give himself more space and slowly lowering into a crouch, the heels making his calves pop. Running his hands down his chest, fingers slipping under the lace, he sighs out like his own touch gives him unspeakable pleasure.

You grit your teeth. Watching him touch himself just makes you want to touch him more. He widens his legs, showing the place where the lacy band narrows down below his balls into a thin string. Whether it’s the angle or just the amount of moving he’s done, the tip of his cock has nestled up higher, poking out just to the side of his hip. Shamelessly, he runs a single fingertip over it, tapping so you can see the clear strands of precum that cling.

You let out an unsteady breath, relaxing slightly as the song begins to build to the final chorus. Not long.

Unfortunately for you, Jimin recognises the changing keys as well as you do, and he stands up smoothly, slinking towards you.

Instead of settling between your knees this time, he turns his back to you and bends down, folding himself in half to fully bare his ass. Hoseok’s handprint still pinkens the skin of one, and the sudden desire to reach out and see if it’s as warm to the touch as it looks overcomes you. You hiss and fist your hands in the fabric of the duvet cover, making Jimin stretch up with a laugh.

Merciless, Jimin widens his stance, choosing to sit on top of your lap, ass grinding on you. You can imagine this movement would be much more unbearable for a guy, but you still feel your resolve unravelling, taken by the fluidity of his hips, the lace accuentuating his slender waist, the pressure of his head as he tips it back onto your shoulder.

“This is so unfair,” you complain shakily, and are rewarded with the musical giggle Jimin lets out, bubbling from his arched throat right into your ear.

Luckily, the chorus ends, and the final notes settle down. Jimin’s hips still and he turns his head, lips just about brushing your cheek. “Good job, sweetness,” he praises warmly, “can I have another kiss?”

Your jaw jerks automatically before you catch yourself. Though it’s fading out, the song technically hasn’t ended yet. “Not yet.”

Shameless even as his ruse is exposed, Jimin just beams and twist around so that he’s straddling you face-on. He lowers his mouth to your collarbone, nibbling at the skin there as the beat fades and the overlaying instruments peter out. Though it must only be ten or fifteen seconds, it feels like forever as he rocks himself against you just like Taehyung had done to Jin - albeit less desperate and more strategic - and licks at the bite marks on your neck.

Finally, it goes silent, and you exhale deeply, hands automatically coming up to rest on his hips as he laughs lightly at your successful efforts. “I’m impressed,” he admits, “guess you get your reward after all, sweetness.”

So relieved that the heat between your legs will get some attention, you barely take notice of him standing up off you, at least not until he slips his cock fully out of the panties.

His cock, straining with being left unattended so long, is a far deeper pink than the mark on his ass, particularly around the head. He sucks in a breath through his nose as he strokes himself, before blinking down at you.

“Clothes off if you want me, sweetness.”

You could guarantee you’ve never undressed so quickly before, frantically enough that your hips are hot from the friction of tugging down your pants. You take no note, however, just spreading your legs wantonly as you eye up his cock.

“Fuck, look at you,” Jimin curses, bracing a hand on your hip as he lines himself up. “Don’t even need stretching, do you? Looks like Joonie opened you up for me already.”

Your cheeks burn, but there’s not enough time to dwell on the embarrassment, as Jimin holds you down with his grasp on your hip and bottoms out in a single thrust.

Even though he’s right, the sudden fullness has you gasping a moan, almost falling onto your back. You prop yourself up and widen your legs further, eyes locked on the sight of his cock, nestled underneath by the lushest black lace, buried deep inside you. “Fuck, please move.”

“My pleasure,” he coos with a sweet smile, before the smile drops to a slack pout of lust, snapping his hips with a deftness that you now know is due to his background as a dancer.

You fight to keep yourself sitting up, one hand around the back of his neck as he fills you with every stroke, but the angle isn’t quite right, and you find your pelvis shifting to find it.

Jimin notices your frustration, and wordlessly pauses, grips your thighs and tugs you forward so that you’re flat on your back, ass over the edge and held up by his upper body strength. Without you even processing the change, he’s returning to his ruthless place, and you sob from relief at the way your insides come alive with pleasure, so much stronger than before.

“Fuck, right there! Right- ungh, yes, Ji-Jimin,” you pant out, feeling unbearably hot all at once with the intensity of it.

Though part of you is still sore from the scene you had with Namjoon earlier, your swollen walls only increase the drag of him against your sensitive tissue, and you quickly turn incoherent, tongue so thick in your mouth that you open it, panting as your fingers clutch the duvet to anchor you.

“That good, huh?” Jimin notes with a laugh stuttered by grunts of exertion. Normally, you’d protest or retort, but with your ankles wrapped around him and back arching off the bed, there’s nothing on your mind but the enveloping urge to cum.

Rather than reply, you just let yourself drown in the sensations, vision going black as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your orgasm comes so fast that you don’t even notice it approaching, can’t even warn him. It’s like a clap of thunder, making you go stiff with a scream before turning completely boneless, legs slipping down off him weakly.

Jimin curses as you squeeze around him, but fucks you through it thoroughly, only slowing down once you begin to fuss, shivering and wriggling away.

Dazed from the sudden onslaught of pleasure, it takes you a few moments for the fog in your brain to clear. Once you do, you glance down and realise Jimin is still achingly hard, dripping with your slick and the remnants of Namjoon’s cum, but none of his own. He strokes it lazily, gaze searching your face.

So exhausted from two intense scenes in one day, you don’t think you could manage to jerk him off or give him a decent blowjob, but to leave him hanging would be cruel. Instead, you fumble to slide yourself off the bed, landing a little too hard on your knees.

“What are you- oh, Y/n, fuck,” Jimin exclaims lowly as you blink up at him and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. He gets the message easily, speeding up his strokes as his tip bounces on your tongue, brief sparks of the salty tang of your shared arousal.

He must have been close before, because it doesn’t take him more than a minute to fall over the edge, cumming into your mouth with thick spurts. A shame it couldn’t have been inside you a different way, but you nonetheless chase his cock, blade of your tongue dipping into his slit to make sure you’d gotten every last drop.

Jimin swears lowly, stroking your hair back fondly as you swallow, and helps you stand up on wobbly legs.

Leading you to the bathroom, Jimin sits you on the closed toilet seat as he runs a bath. Having slipped off his heels somewhere back in the room, he unhooks his garters as he waits for the tub to fill. With one leg resting on the high edge of the tub, rolling down the fishnets one at a time, you once again are silenced in awe of his beauty.

It feels unspeakably intimate to watch him unclasp the bralette, slip off the panties, and slowly take his makeup off, easily locating the makeup remover he’d borrowed from you that very first night.

Your eyes sting a little as you’re reminded of that time. It feels like an eternity ago, even though it’s just under a fortnight. You’d thought he was so intimidating back then. Though he still had the power to command attention, you’d seen enough of the kindhearted, thoughtful and sensitive man beneath that the Jimin two weeks ago felt like a very different man.

“Water’s ready.”

You blink yourself out of that train of thought, letting Jimin help you carefully into the tub, joining you on the other side, legs tangled. “Thank you,” you manage to say, still feeling a little out of it after a tiring day and a good orgasm.

Jimin beams, glancing away to obscure some of his face. It’s clear to you that the lack of makeup has him feeling a bit vulnerable. His skin is flushed red - either naturally or from exertion you couldn’t tell - and his brows were softer, eyes looking smaller without the shadow that emphasised them. He wasn’t any less beautiful like this, just more human. Comforting, in a way, as he passes you a washcloth and begins to lather himself up in strawberry-scented bodywash.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jimin starts, but his voice sounds weirdly stilted and unlike him.

“Mm?”

“My, um, my…” He lets out a light cough, avoiding your gaze with an air of forced aloofness. “Granny keeps asking about you. She’s convinced we’re dating, but that’s, uh, I’ve assured her we aren’t. She really liked you, and whenever we chat she asks to speak to you, and, um…”

You feel more coherent than you have in a good couple hours, sitting upright. “She does?”

Jimin laughs ruefully. “I never really knew how to ask you if you wanted to speak to her, or if I should even ask you at all-”

“So you thought now, while we’re both naked in a tub after you fucking my brains out is the right time?”

Jimin’s cheeks colour more as he splutters. “You can say no, I just didn’t want you to… I don’t know. You can say no.”

You beam at him. “I have one rule.”

“What?”

“I’ll hang out with Mrs. Park on one condition.”

The blue-haired boy stares at you warily. “Which is?”

You lean forward with a deadpan expression on your face, making him grimace in worry. “You let me sleep in your bed tonight,” you explain gravely, “I’m running out of options for this Bangasm Bomb thingy, and it’s only fair after you just took me out of commission like that.”

Jimin laughs in relief, throwing his head back with a joyous grin. “Deal! Don’t scare me like that.”

You return his smile, heart swelling from the fondness you hold for him. “Of course I’ll chat with your grandma, Jimin. I love her. She reminds me of you a lot.”

You may have said too much, but Jimin goes lax against the opposite end of the tub, smile never leaving his lips, and you don’t regret it for a second.

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