#I had a waxplay fic

[joelmillers-whore]

heaven and back

summary: an object on your nightstand inspires frankie to experiment in the bedroom and you’re all for it. 

word count: 1.7K 

series or one-shot

warnings: 18+ explicit, minors DNI, frankie x female!reader, no mention of y/n, smut, waxplay, bondage, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, brief degradation kink, frankie calls you a slut for like a second, breeding kink kinda?, established relationship, i don’t think i’m missing anything but let me know if i did. 

a/n: i really do apologize for not posting more, i’ve been in a bad writing slump lately and the creativity is just not coming to me. but, please enjoy this little frankie fic that may or may not be self-indulgent. as always, please reblog, comment, and like to support me.

Your heart was beating to an unsteady tempo, the rhythm jarring and scattered as the organ tried to keep up with what was happening to your body. Your back arched off the bed, feverishly chasing the feeling, wanting to get closer to it— to him. But you couldn’t. 

Your wrists were tied tightly to the bed posts, the rope Frankie used rubbing against the sensitive skin, igniting a want you felt so deeply that it rushed throughout your body, licking along each and every nerve ending until you were a throbbing, dripping, whining fucking mess. 

Frankie was kneeling above you, the light cascading in through the window from the street below bathing the room in a soft, feathered glow. The end notes of golden hour drifted by without anyone noticing, bright orange diffusing into crystallized moonlight. 

There was a slight breeze coming in from the open window, making your already stiffened nipples harder, almost to the point of pain. Goosebumps erupted along your breasts, your clavicle, your collarbone. 

The pebbled skin decorated your body, the lightest of touches setting your dampened flesh ablaze. Frankie’s fingers explored everywhere the goosebumps were, groaning low when he reached your stomach, just above your belly button. 

His trimmed fingernails scraped against you lightly, making you flinch, your stomach clenching from anticipation. 

“It’s okay, preciosa, I’m going to take good care of you”, he said. 

Your heart stopped, and changed its course, fluttering at his sweet words. You looked up at Frankie, through your lashes, watching as his gaze was already fixated on you, taking you in, naked and salacious and wanting for him. 

His features were lightened by the moonlight, his face seeming younger somehow, the sheer luminescence caressing every smile line and crinkle near his eyes tenderly. 

Your eyes floated down to his broad chest, his sturdy stomach, his tree trunk thighs, and finally, his stiff cock, red and angry, with pre-cum dribbling from the tip. 

“Frankie...”, you moaned, wiggling your hips needily. 

The dulcet smell of lavender took you by surprise, you turned your head, eyes snagging on the candle you had lit before this had all started. Frankie reached over you, plucking it from the nightstand, inspecting it. His eyes snapped to yours, an eyebrow raising in question. 

“Have an idea”, Frankie said, his hand cupping the glass, rolling his wrist, letting the wax melt and congeal around the rim. “Do you trust me?”. 

You nodded, squirming against the restraints, your wrists growing slack after a minute of fighting them seemed all but pointless. 

“Y-yes”, you nearly shouted, arousal leaking down your thighs, gushing out of you. Frankie’s cock twitched with need. 

He chuckled and your insides did a kickflip. It was filled with equal parts amusement and hunger. 

“Just relax...”, he said, his voice taking on a hurried edge, clipped, like he was trying to hold himself together. 

Grabbing your hip with one hand, and tilting the candle with the other, Frankie slowly started drizzling the hot liquid onto your skin. You watched him eagerly, wincing when the melted wax touched your skin, but whimpering a second later when the pain was overridden with pleasure. 

“Ooooh”, you exclaimed, head thrashing back into the pillow, teeth sinking into your arm. 

“Don’t...”, Frankie growled, getting your attention immediately. “I want to hear all your sounds, preciosa. Every. Single. One”. 

More wax dripped onto your stomach, hardening immediately when it hit your skin, moans tumbling from your lips over and over again until you felt your stomach beginning to cramp up, your thighs shaking from the position you had been in. 

“Frankie...”, you mewled, writhing against your restraints. “I want- I need to feel you”. 

You bucked into his hand involuntarily, trying to get him to touch you. He only pushed your hip deeper into the bed, pining you down, all of his strength behind it. 

“I don’t think so, baby...”, Frankie laughed, dripping a path of wax between your breasts, his lips inches from connecting with your skin, the gentle puff of air heightening every sensation and touch, searing into you like a brand. Marking you as his. 

Placing the candle back on the nightstand, both of Frankie’s hands gripped your hips, steadying you while he slotted himself between your legs. His length rubbed up against your cunt accidentally, the feeling making your head spin. 

 “Fuck, Frankie”, you whined, your walls clenching around nothing. Another gush of your own arousal leaking from you. At this rate, you’d cum from that one touch alone if he didn’t hurry up and fuck you. 

Teasing you, Frankie did it again, dragging out the action, torturing you. His hand was wrapped around his length, the muscles in his arm bulging, swelling as he pumped himself. His tip grazed your clit, making a moan bubble deep from your chest. 

Your eyes were locked onto where his cock was spreading your lips, pre-cum mixing with your own fluids. 

“Do you need this cock? Hm? Does my baby want to be stuffed full?”. 

You nodded, a choked groan leaving you, “I need it, Frankie...”. 

Frankie stopped moving, your eyes finding his, “And what do we say?”. 

You bit your lip, the teasing driving you wild, your thighs spasming, “Please”. 

You were begging at this point, keening for Frankie to stuff you full, to pump his seed so deep into you that it painted your walls white. You wanted to be leaking him for hours. 

Taking his time, Frankie began to push into you, rocking his hips, the bones flush with yours as you took every inch of him, nearly bruising your wrists as you jerked against your binds. 

You wrapped your legs around Frankie, your heels digging into his lower back, desperately pulling him closer to you the only way you could. Your lips quivered as you sucked in a sharp breath, the air being punched out of your lungs when Frankie thrust all the way into you, not missing a beat. 

Sweat crested his brow, eyes dancing with lust, heavy-lidded— drunk with his desire for you. Frankie’s wide palms were splayed across your thighs, kneading the flesh, an attempt to stabilize himself as he lost control inside of you. 

You wished that you could feel Frankie underneath your fingers, wished you could feel how his muscles tensed each time you raked your nails against his back, leaving red and raised streaks along his flesh— marks you happily kissed away after the fact. 

When you were both coming down, heaving breaths expelling from your lungs, eyes twinkling with satisfaction, Frankie would pull you closer to him, practically moulding you to his body so that you were a second skin. 

He would get lost in comforting you, asking you if you were okay from whatever the two of you had done. Whether it was rough or sweet, he would ask you the same thing each and every time. 

But right now, there was no room for soothing words, not when Frankie was bending you to his will, rutting into you so fast and sharply that your eyes were beginning to water, your vision blurring at the edges as you focused on him, a watery image atop of you. 

“Fuck...”, Frankie groaned, head low, his messy brown curls sticking to his forehead, a stray strand falling into his eyes, “You’re squeezing me so tight, baby”. 

His pace didn’t let up and you didn’t want it to, your walls pulsating on instinct, making Frankie moan loudly into your ear, your stomach clenching, that familiar intense vibration radiating from the base of your spine and climbing higher. 

You rapidly blinked away the tears in your eyes, concentrating, focusing only on Frankie. He grabbed the back of your knees, hiking them higher, almost folding you in two, his angle hitting deeper than you were expecting, his cock brushing your cervix. You threw your head back. 

“That’s it...”, he mumbled, panting, his hot breath fanning over your neck, “Take it all, like the good little slut you are”. 

You let out a high-pitched whine, his words finally wearing you down, that tightly wound coil inside of you finally snapping. Your orgasm ripped through you, wetness seeping onto the sheets below. 

You were in a state of total bliss, your eyes literally rolling back as Frankie continued to thrust into you, your body humming and twitching. His grip on your legs was bruising, not easing until he was through with you. 

Your chest was slick with sweat, heaving as you tried to even out your breathing. You thought you’d heard him speak, muttering something incoherent. 

You gulped down a breath while Frankie’s rhythm changed, taking on a hurried note, like he couldn’t control his movements any longer, couldn’t control how much he wanted to come inside of you. 

“What?”, you whispered, pretty sure he had said something to you. 

“I’m going to fill you up, going to have you leaking me for days...”, Frankie groaned, his body vibrating. 

“Do it, Frankie”, you huffed, “Come inside of me”. 

It didn’t take much more than that before Frankie stilled inside of you, his whole body spasming as he came deep inside of you. He collapsed on top of you, heaving breaths hitting the shell of your ear, the air ghosting over you gently. 

“Fuck”, you panted, wheezing periodically, trying to even out your breaths. You moaned as you felt his release running a path down your ass. 

“I was going to say that”, Frankie joked, his voice coming out raspier than usual. 

You felt a light kiss on your shoulder, Frankie’s lips decorating your smooth skin. Your lids felt heavy as he continued tracing your neck, cheeks, and arms, making his way up your body. 

He carefully untied the ropes that had been restraining you the whole time, taking your right wrist in his hand, planting a soft kiss on it, and then repeating the same action on the left. 

“Are you okay, preciosa?”, Frankie asked, his eyes finding yours immediately, as he continued to rub at your delicate and nearly raw wrist, a desperate note to his tone. 

You nodded and Frankie pulled your body into him. You curled up against his chest, absorbing the warmth that was radiating from him. 

“I’m perfect”. Frankie grunted approvingly, stroking your head lovingly, and placed a kiss along your hairline. 

“Good...”, his hand that was in your hair snaked lower and lower and before you could take in another breath, Frankie manhandled you so that you were laying on your stomach, ass up in the air. “Because I’m not done with you yet”. 

[we-are-maladaptive]

Hey! I was wondering if you could do a nsfw fic for Tokoyami? He's my favorite character and he's lacking in content, especially nsfw. So I was hoping to get something like super soft and slow with him? I hc that he likes wax play so if you could also do something like that that'd be great, your work is great I'm currently binge reading some of them before bed lol

you do NOT have to tell me twice! also ty im very flattered you like my work -///- REQUESTS ARE OPEN.Feel free to send me an ask and I’ll write it for you! Remeber to check the rules first.

Fumikage Tokoyami x Reader

contents: nsfw, waxplay, tooth rotting romantic stuff

“A daisy blooming in a desert is worth more than a rose blooming in a rainforest." That was a good way to describe Tokoyami. Throughout highschool he stuck to himself, watching his classmates socialize with each other, laughing when they could be kids, and fighting when they had to be heroes, just finding themselves, blooming. Tokoyami preferred to stay to himself mostly, he’d talk with his classmates back when they were in highschool together, as he too wanted to be a hero, but unlike his classmates, there was something missing. A problem inside him that needed to be solved, a longing for something, but he didn’t know what he was longing for. Whether it be Bakugo calming his temperament, Todoroki helping to heal his broken family, or Midoriya, which I can’t even begin to explain. All of them had identified their own issues, and were fixing each one so that they could prosper. So from afar, he watched his classmates solve their own problems, while he hopelessly was trying to solve his own, trying to bloom. It’s not like Tokoyami was some type of loser or anything, he’d landed himself a high position in #2 Pro Hero Hawks’ headquarters. Sometimes he’d even cover for the winged hero when Hawks was too weak to patrol normally, as he’d never been the same since the incident about 7 years ago.

Tokoyami didn’t really appreciate the sun, as it got in the way of his job. At least he didn’t sweat as much, the black cloak of his trapping in the heat. The day seemed normal enough, civilians pacing around, some of them being familiar faces. The only thing he couldn’t be pouty about though, was the atmosphere. Summer was approaching, and what could go wrong with summer? Festivals, boardwalks, parties, everyone was free for a few months. Not him though, since he was past school and still had to work. To be frank, I think he hated summer. The everlasting sun doing nothing to help his profession. However, the sight of people skipping around and smiling, anticipating what this year’s summer has in store for them, was nice. A particular laugh however, was delightful to listen to. It sounded like music to his ears, light and genuine, a far contrast to the darkness that always clouded up his mind, practically piercing into his head. So he decided to cock his head at the person who had made such a beautiful sound, that was when he saw you. Laughing at the cat who had fallen off the table at the cafe you were currently at. The poor kitty had tried to get a bite out of the cheesecake you were eating, and was not very successful. The sun was shining directly at you, giving a glitter to your eyes and lighting up your skin, making it shine.

 He was grateful that the sun existed now, and he was grateful that he had found his problem.

Even though the sun shines on your skin whenever you two are together, he still prefers the nighttime, especially for this reason; intimacy.

He liked the expressions that you make, a little too much actually. Whether it be the little glitter in your eyes whenever he gives you something, or the little wobble in your bottom lip whenever you’re about to cry. Currently, he likes when the calm expression on your face starts to falter whenever you feel more wax drip down from your ribs, all the way down to your lower stomach. It was warm, very warm, and it tickled too. Too bad you weren’t really in a position to squirm, with your wrists being tied to the headboard.

It went on like that for a while, until he wanted to see more of you, how many expressions he could pull from your pretty face. So that’s exactly what he got.

He took in and savored everything he could get from you. The way your eyes softened when he curled his fingers right into the soft spot deep inside you. The sound of your voice, pleading with him to just let you cum, how could he refuse?

I think the thing he cherished the most though, was your souls intertwining with each other as he slowly thrusted into you. Nothing had to be done quick or rough, he had time. Your hands freed so you could pull his head down to kiss you, and your legs wrapped around his waist. If you had any focus before, it was gone. Everything is now a flurry of pleasure and emotion, for him too. However Tokoyami could feel something else, the thorns wrapped so tightly around his heart have been torn down, letting whatever was inside finally have enough room to grow. In his heart was a daisy, blooming in the desert, he was finally blooming.

Holding you close in the night when it was all over, watching the moon shine over you both in its divinity.

      The sun was nice, yes, but he still liked the night better, nothing could be better than this.

[blacksmokebarbarians]

The Open Flame

a/n: hey there! after watching the music video, i got an interesting little idea for a blurb, so here it is! i should have some more fics coming out soon, but until then, stay tuned!

pairing: jake kiszka x fem!reader

word count: 1,400 k

warnings: mdni!!!, oral (f!recieving), waxplay, praise, basically pwp

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He was in a funk, that was obvious enough. He had barely spoke the whole evening, his stare toward the television glazed with thought, and he seemed to be completely unaware of your presence.

“Are you okay..?”

Jake’s eyes met with yours as he murmured a soft, “Hmm?”. He then nodded, his gaze returning to the series the two of you had been watching. “Yeah. I’m alright.” He shrugged. You watched as his right thumb traced his left— a habit he had when he was nervous. Something wasn’t quite right.

You leaned over, placing a kiss on his cheek before taking one of his hands in yours. He adverted his gaze away, avoiding any contact with your own.

“What is it, Jakey?” You asked, studying his face as you awaited his reply.

“It’s really nothing.. I promise.” He mumbled, laying back against the couch. By now, he knew that you weren’t going to let it go.

“Hun, you can tell me what it is. I won’t be upset with you.” You assured, your voice soft as you traced gentle circles into the back of his hand.

You watched as his chest rose and fell with a deep sigh. Still keeping his sight fixated on the screen across the room, he cleared his throat. “I’ve just.. I’ve been thinking about certain things since the last time we had sex. I just.. I don’t know.” He let out a course exhale.

Your brows furrowed as you looked to him, squeezing his hand gently. “Jake, look at me..” You moved his chin towards you, prompting his eyes to meet yours. “Whatever it is, we can talk through it, okay? I want you to be satisfied with the things we do.”

His head bowed for a moment before he looked back to you. “Could we try something..?”

The two of you had made many changes to your routine over time, but it wasn’t often that he had asked to give something a go. You were unsure of where exactly this would lead, but you had promised yourself to try anything at least once. So, you flashed him a smile and a nod. “Of course we can, hun.” You leaned forward, his lips grazing yours before meeting them completely. He was gentle— his touch soft as could be as his hands beckoned you towards him, sliding your frame towards his own. Though the kiss had began rather light, it progressed quickly to engage with the passion that grew between you two.

His hands held your hips. No— gripped them. His calloused fingers grazing the skin just beneath your shirt as his body pressed against yours. Your hands slipped into his hair, tangling within it as you each exchanged hushed moans.

Your hunger for his touch only grew the more you obtained it. His hands were a force you couldn’t get enough of, and that became clear when you finally felt them trailing your sides. One skimmed down your thigh while the other found its way to your clothed breast, giving it a vigilant squeeze. With quick breaths escaping past your lips, he could tell you yearned for more.

Hurrying to unclothe yourself, you tossed your shirt off, to which he mirrored your actions with his own. His lips clashed with yours, once more, falling into a hasty rhythm as your hips pressed against his.

His hands unclasped your bra, allowing you to slip it off. Before you could even meet his lips again, he looked to you. “Is this okay..?”

He knew just how to make you feel comfortable. And, somehow, granting him consent grew your arousal even further. He leaned down, his lips meeting with your collarbone as his large hand cupped your breast. Resting your hands on his shoulder, you leaned your head back, providing him permission to take you as his.

That’s what you were. You were his. All his. And, yet, even moreso; he was yours.

His lips soon met with your rosy peaks, his hand squeezing your opposing breast as he sucked soft marks into the other. The heat between you only grew as your skin made contact, louder whines leaving your lips as he did all the work.

Soon enough, his hands were begging for your shorts to come off, his lips still hard at work pressing kisses to your chest. Allowing him to slide your shorts off, he slowly pulled away, laying you back against the couch.

Leaning above you with his hand rested on the back of the couch, he finally spoke. “Stay here.. I’ll be right back.”

As you awaited his presence once more, you began to realize that he had to have been planning something. You watched as he came back with one of the candlesticks from your kitchen table. Perplexed, you sat up, watching as he reached for one of the matchboxes that rested on your coffee table beside the couch. “What are you doing..?” You asked, your hand resting on his thigh.

“Shh.. Lay back, baby..” He soothed, his hand pressing your stomach gently, prompting you to lay back down. Clad in just your panties, you felt far more vulnerable than usual as you watched him strike the match.

“If you feel any pain, I need you to tell me, okay? Anything at all, I want to know.” He brought the flame to the wick of the candle, watching as it set ablaze. He blew the stick out, throwing it onto the table before turning his attention back to you.

He gently pushed your legs apart, allowing one to rest over his hip. He watched as the candle began to melt, holding it just above your thigh.

With a sharp gasp, your hand gripped the couch. The heated wax dropped from the wick, dripping down the center of your thigh towards your core. “Oh my god..” You mumbled, feeling as the wax took its shape around your thigh.

Another drip, the sensation just as sensitive as the last. You watched as Jake bit his lip, watching the liquid harden across your leg. He left drops down your stomach, guiding them up to your breasts. The hot glaze met with your supple bosom, moans beginning to erupt from you. Your legs pressed together, begging for any sort of friction against your core.

Watching Jake’s satisfaction as you squirmed only caused your arousal to increase. “Such a good girl.. Such a good little slut..” He cooed.

With one last drip, he blew the candle out, resting it on the table before bringing his hand to the fabric of your panties. His fingers toyed with the lace, pressing against your heat.

“Fuck.. Jake, Please.. Please, Sir..” You begged, your voice becoming hoarse with each moan. “I need you..”

And just like that, he slipped the lace from your legs, his tongue meeting with your clitoris as his digits traced your slit. He plunged a finger deep into your core, your slick enveloping his hand.

The room filled with the messy sounds of your whimpers and the work he did below. Your back arched as he slipped yet another finger into you, the rhythm of his mouth not faltering in the slightest. You squeezed your eyes shut as you leaned back into the throw pillows, his speed growing with every thrust of his hand.

He groaned against your cunt, completely satisfied with pleasing you. He had a hunger for your taste— When he finally got it, it was pure euphoria; Almost better than an orgasm.

You inched closer and closer to your sweet release, your hands gripping his waves as your hips bucked forward. “Please.. Please, don’t stop, please please…” You begged, prompting his determination more and more.

Finally, you felt your climax crash against you, his touch continuing as you rode the pleasure out. “Oh fuck.. fuckfuckfuckfuck..”

As you overcame your culmination, your legs shook. His movements slowed, as did your breath. He glanced up to you with half-lidded eyes, slipping his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them of your arousal. He leaned forward, kissing the mound of your pelvis before leaving another just below your bellybutton.

“You did so well, darling.. So fucking well..” He praised, his hands resting on your thighs.

[electricshoebox]

writer interview ✍️

Tagged by @junemermaid, thank you so much my friend!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

42 apparently!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

662,511 😳

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All of these are Dorian/Iron Bull from Dragon Age: Inquisition.

How to Share a Bed Without Killing Each Other: a Love Story (5 chapters, Rated T)

Rivers in the Sand (Oneshot, Rated E)

a soft place to land (Oneshot, Rated E)

Always Good at Bad Ideas (Oneshot, Rated T)

Flashpoint (Oneshot, Rated E)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Oh definitely I do! I know that it can be really difficult and intimidating to find the words to leave a comment and I just really want people to know how much they're appreciated. I also love getting to share thoughts and excitement and little behind the scenes things. It may take me a little time sometimes, but it's really important to me to respond.

I heard somewhere once that people think authors respond to artificially inflate their comment numbers. I don't know where that came from, or if there are authors out there that may do that, but I honestly don't even pay attention to that? I don't even really look at that number as a reader either. I just want commenters to know how much they've made my day!

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Man, I really had to think about this. I don't really have nearly any that are solely angst.

But I do have one that's left open-ended in a pretty angsty place. My Dragon Age 2 rarepair fic for Merrill/Orana, Counting the Cost. It's set right after the final confrontation with Merrill's clan, with Orana having to learn via that news that Merrill uses blood magic.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Honestly, most of my fics have "happy" endings, or at least hopeful ones. I just have a hard time not leaving things on a good note. It's hard to pick one that stands out more than others. I think, though, that The Eye of the Storm will have this honor once I finish it (if that's encouraging to anyone 😊).

7. Do you write crossovers?

Echoing June here, I've written a fusion fic before. I basically took the plot of the movie Inception and adapted it to a version of Dragon Age: Inquisition set in a future version of Thedas (In the Shadow of Dreams).

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I think I remember getting a weirdly critical comment once but I don't think I've ever gotten direct hate. I mostly write in quiet fandom corners these days, I'd be pretty surprised if someone bothered.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Oh definitely! I've written all kinds. I've written some centered on specific kinks (like waxplay in a soft place to land), and some that were hinted at in canon that I wanted to explore (like Flashpoint). But the majority of the time, it's really just a part of the larger story, a vehicle for character analysis or communication. In A Line in the Sand, for example, it was a major character turning point. Sex is just such an interesting way to explore a character or a relationship. It's a level of intimacy and vulnerability that can really reveal so much.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, but I have had some ideas taken in the past. Nothing I'd make a big deal about, and I don't always mind when things like that kind of blossom into fanon, but I do wish people would ask first. I don't always think it's intentional or conscious, though, so again, no reason to say anything.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Still blows me away someone wanted to. Both Wishing Stars and No Patron Saint of Silent Restraint (both Dorian/Bull) were translated to Mandarin.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. My writing process just isn't very conducive to collaboration. It's unpredictable and scattered as to when I get writing done and get motivation. I'm also extremely particular about how my writing sounds and fits together, and I think I would just have a lot of trouble trying to mesh that with another writer.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

That's such a hard question. I think it's always going to be whatever pair I'm currently writing for. I just have phases with ships where they're all-consuming for awhile, and then I finally sort of move on, even if they still have a special place in my heart.

That being said, Deacon/MacCready has meant so much to me because it's not only the first pair I finished a novel for, I'm now finishing the second one. This pair inspired me again after a long desert of writing despair, and it just brought so much good into my life. It's really hard to top that.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

There are two that come to mind. One was for Red Dead Redemption 2, a meditation on grief set in the epilogue, from Charles' perspective. I really had a lot of ideas for it and a lot of things I wanted to explore.

The other is Uprising. This was my retelling of Dragon Age 2 inspired by David Gaider's comment that Velanna was initially considered as Justice's vehicle instead of Anders. I wanted to re-imagine the story that way. So Velanna is the Justice character and Anders stays with the Grey Wardens. I just wanted to explore what could change, and what ways the story would have been different. I got through Act 1, but lost steam. It was also my first attempt at a novel-length fic, and I think it had potential.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do a pretty decent job of setting a scene. I see a lot of scenes in my head play out like they're movie scenes, so I try to describe them in kind, and make them fairly easy to visualize. I'm also really aware of a character's physicality. Like what they're doing with their hands, posture, where they're looking, how they're shifting their feet, etc. And I do feel like I have a good handle on character voice, or at least I work really hard to make the characters not just sound like but feel like themselves, and make decisions or take actions that still feel like things they would do in canon. I feel pretty confident in my character banter, too. I feel most at home writing dialogue where people are bantering and teasing and sniping at each other.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I have so many crutch words and phrases. I have to make such a conscious effort not to use them over and over, and even then I'll go back later and find where I've used the same term or word back to back. I also struggle a lot with action scenes. Writing ALITS and TEOTS has done a lot to work that muscle and I think I've improved, but it's not at all second nature. Trying to make them interesting and tense while still making sense is a real challenge for me and it takes me a long time. And I don't feel very confident in creating my own characters. I like writing for established characters because all the interesting and cool bits are already there. Making my own original characters equally as exciting and unique and intriguing is so much harder for me.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Going to just quote June directly here: "it can be used to good effect but it's best used sparingly. I would generally always prefer that plot-relevant or important dialogue were simply, 'This is the murder weapon,' she said in French. Don't withhold information or emotional impact for the sake of showing off."

She said it perfectly. And I'll add that it's often very jarring and even pulls me out of the story a lot of the time, unless it's written by someone fluent. It's very difficult to pull it off naturally otherwise, and that is very obvious to your readers.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Technically, Sailor Moon, though I only shared it with my friends. The first things I put on the internet were for Lord of the Rings.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

Hmm. It would be fun to write something for Baldur's Gate 3, but I'm not sure I can get past some of my mental blocks with fandom there. I would like to play around with Barbara/Lucy for Fallout 4.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

It's hard not to say A Line in the Sand. It's just very, very special to me for so many reasons. I've talked about it a lot so I won't go on, but yeah. It's hard to believe I'll have another experience with writing quite like that one.

-

Tagging (no pressure as always) — @bardic-inspo, @totally-not-deacon, @mercurymiscellany, @amanitajack, @just-another-wasteland-merc

[mish-tique]

I'm doing kinktober (AGAIN) - and I'm doing requests (AGAIN)

Hi guys! Cannot believe the year flew by this fast. But, as the title states, I will be doing kinktober again and I thought it was time to prepare - and thus see if you guys had any requests. Below the "read more" option is the whole list of kinks you can pick from!

How to request; send an ask with the following information:

Which day // which kink(s) // which ship/solo character // your idea (can be plot, universe, etc etc)

Ships I write: max/charles, max/carlos, max/lando, max/lewis, carlos/lando, lando/max fewtrell, charles/max/carlos, lando/max/carlos. In case the ship you were thinking about is not in this list, feel free to drop in a comment to confirm if I really do not write them.

This post will be updated with requested info and you are allowed to add to information already on here!

*When a prompt is bolt it means this kink is chosen for that day (if you wonder why some days have less options, it's because I removed the kinks that are hard no's for me)

*If you want to see what has been talked about, or the specifics of the given prompts, please check out the hashtag #missha's kinktober '23

Leather & Latex |Pegging -> versainz + charles

Roleplay | Inflation | Titfucking -> nortrell

Bootworship | Hate Sex -> lestappen (angry Charles)

Rimming | Prostitution -> 4433, also overstimulation

Collaring | Sweat -> 4433, also master/slave

Dubcon | Frottage | Chastity -> charlos

Virginity | Waxplay | Stuck in Wall -> nortrell

Breeding | Master & Slave -> part 1 = max/carlos/lando (max getting pregnant) , part 2 = carlando

Glory Hole | Lactation | Stripping -> lestappen, charles going feral over max lactating while pregnant.

Fucking Machine | Praise Kink -> carlando, carlos discovers lando's praise kink

Petplay | Humiliation | Sensory Deprivation -> 4433, blindfolds

Medical Play | Somnophilia | Costumes -> 4433, lewis comes home late from an event to see max all ready for him

Size Difference | Heartbeat -> strollonso

Armpit | Orgasm Denial | Cloning & Selfcest -> lestappen (maffia au)

Shotgunning | Temperature Play -> carlando, brother's best friend

Double Penetration in One Hole | Gags | Public -> max/carlos/charles; charles' birthday celebration on a boat

Threesome or moresome | Fisting -> lewis/max/fernando

Body Modification | Spanking -> lestappen, punishment for the following day

Uniform | Exhibitionish & Voyeurism -> carlando, watching each other

Watersports | Mind Control | Foodplay -> strollonso

Panties & Lingerie | Tentacles -> lestappen

Intercrural Sex | Bondage -> versainz, short on time

Collaring | Deepthroating & Facesitting -> lestappen

Sex Toys | Oviposition | Crossdressing -> nortrell

Human Furniture | Pregnancy | Edgeplay -> lestappen

Masturbation | Overstimulation -> mayhaps carlando w pregnancy and edging

Double Penetration in Two Holes | S&M

Daddy & Mommy | Body Worship | Cockbulge -> max/carlos/lando

Incest | Breathplay -> lestappen, discovering their love for choking

Free Use | Overstimulation -> max x everyone, for the 3rd wdc

Combination of any of the above, or free day -> versainz somnophilia

Bonus activities i'm mayhaps doing:

writing a sequel to this fic from last year's kinktober

Charles masturbating and self discovery!

max/oscar mind control

[quietwingsinthesky]

35, 69, and 90!

hello sin!

35. i am a spn fic writer. this is the projection fandom.

im joking okay uh. actually, probably lucifer? it's why i have so much trouble writing from his pov. man is a goddamned enigma to me, and i like when he is in my fics! i just don't want to. write. from inside his head. if that makes sense. because i just know i'll mess something up. (I think the only fics i have from his pov are my raphael waxplay one and my super self-indulgent sarah/nick/luci fic. and i am still iffy on the characterization i got out of them, even if i deemed it good enough to post.)

69. nice. anyway. yes. yes, definitely. i have cried like a little baby writing emotional scenes. which is probably why i write more porn and (arguably) funny stuff, something something the mortifying ordeal of being known. i think the latest time was when i was writing the emotional climax of my dean/sam/jo fic (that i swear i'm going to finish! one day!) as for how i write them uhhhhh. fuck if i know. i just type the words, they pop into my brain and i have no idea how they got there most of the time.

90. oh, yes, definitely, and by that i mean, when i still had english classes, my teachers used to call my writing style "annoying" and "you could have said this in one sentence, not seven" and "if you keep putting this many commas in your papers, i'm going to start taking off a point for every single one." well, joke's on them, now i can put as many commas in as i want. >:3

[strscrossed]

not that kinky per se, but i’ve once read a gjhm fic where they had sex and she’s wearing his blindfold. my memory’s a bit blurry, but i think there’s a but if waxplay in there as well, although i’m not sure

omg if you find that can you send it my way?

[randompixelz]

We should get a guy like a town crier to read AO3 tags. I was washing the dishes and had a vivid image of a guy who looks like this:

adjusting his cravat, clearing his throat, and shouting in that really punchy way where you do this: :O with your mouth as often as possible "THIS FIC CONTAINS: HURT/COMFORT. ANGST. MOMMY ISSUES. LESBIANS. VAGINAL FINGERING. LIGHT BONDAGE. ORGASM DENIAL. WAXPLAY. AND FACE-FUCKING." and then he rolls up the scroll and walks away.

I am also only running on four hours of sleep, which may have something to do with why this post exists.

[demonmary]

ok here goes nothin also please ask me about any of these if they interest u at all <3 my faves are bolded <3

when we drive - real dirtybackroad stans know this one it was briefly posted as a first chapter but then I abandoned it and took it down while I rework it <3 it's rockstar dean is forced into hiring a chauffeur (cas). featuring way too much car information for a writer without their license. slowburn. cas has to drive dean and his various conquests around while they bang in the back seat. he's soooo oblivious to dean's flirting.

(s)he loves me au - tentatively titled lonely hearts club - dean and cas two person love triangle(ish) coworkers enemies to lovers while they're both in a secret relationship with a secret penpal <3

mechanic dean / artist cas au - they work across the street from each other idk it's probably just gonna be a oneshot I really like the beginning scene I wrote

you'll think of someone (cas pov ) - cas cannot get dean to see that he's so obviously trying to court him with handmade gifts and dean keeps being like. i am worth nothing . especially this beautiful thing you have created. mayhaps sam would like it. i am dirt.

I spend my days - college au , drunk dean flashing his ass out the window at what happens to be cas's dorm it's based on mooning from grease and nothing else

ghost cas au - I HAD posts about this on my old account. dean is hired to get a ghost to move the fuck on by a reaper with an otherwise perfect record. cas is a fully formed apparition who works in the antique shop that holds the item he's tied to and dean falls in love

uniformed - dean has a uniform kink and stole cas's car. initially cas was a sheriff but . i don't want to write about cops for the copaganda show so I might switch up the plot entirely or drop this one <3 regardless it was just gonna be a smut vehicle anyway maybe I'll drop it as a snippet or something

an untitled exploration of prayer and grace and the "cas feels longing" situation.

forcing forget - dean gets gay with cas and then immediately runs away and bangs a girl at a bar to prove he's still straight

hitman dean meets serial killer cas - they meet up over the body of the man they both want dead. it's fucked up it's dark it's cute dean meets a cat and cas adopts it . featuring dean asking siri the definition of hitman while on a stakeout

healing rituals - an exploration of dean and cas and grace and healing and gay

fanning the flame - chapter two of my waxplay-fic-with-no-waxplay that actually has the waxplay in it. it's a few months later, just established relationship smut lmao

we go together - also a previously posted dirtybackroad original lmao that has been taken down! grease au, high school. i just. don't like writing about high school students it gives me the ick I'm so sorry it's a me problem. i might completely rework it as an adult au because i like so much about it and it has dean and bobby bits and charlie is there and it has lovely relationship building stuff. i think it could be cute as adult love too but maybe i need to tackle my issues with writing completely g rated high school stuff lmao idk what my PROBLem is yes i do its trauma

undercovers chapter two - I've been thinking about coming back to this one and i had a little more written that i cut off to post it where i left it so . who knows.

dean spy au, fake dating for the bit but they fall in love. cas weird rich family ar(ms)t dealers

a poem about home that is actually basically finished and i need to edit and format and post

it's a ruff life - my destiel au that i love more than anything. actor dean, animal handler cas, miracle is the star of a movie franchise about a talking dog. claire is there and like. 11 and so cool. i really love this au but i need to work the plot out soooooooo hard so so so hard i just have vibes here

dean is in two casts and cannot shave his face and he's soooo scruffy and he hates it and cas has to help <3 gay <3

deanlee stanford era smokin weed blowin smoke rings

cas steals baby. dean goes rogue to get her back.

you'll think of someone (dean pov) - dean cannot be clear enough with his requests to ask cas out and cas keeps being like ! idk dean ! maybe a nice country girl would like to hold your hand!

barista dean and really predictable cas. dean shows his interest through nicer and nicer pastries. cas is on a schedule and does not notice these tiny gestures.

big ol armed cas - my baby i love u i love this one. it's just dean sweating over cas starting to wear different clothes around the bunker. cas borrows deans clothes. they go on a little breakfast date. cas has huge arms and dean wants to grab em and bite em

marytoni men of letters rewrite - mary joins the men of letters but consensually. no ketch because i hate him. toni and mary bang.

mark of cain cure rewrite - i'm stealing the lucifer tv show cure . it's gonna be great. featuring my biggest cas pov undertaking. a lot of world building. talk about angels and stuff in the little intro i have. then it's just. angry dean like a feral kitten hissing every time cas gets too close for something like 15 chapters

catholic school girl claire smoking weed and thinking about how she was literally an angel once that fucks a girl up doesnt it

evil marynatural. an exploration of the lucifer bloodline. what if azazel didn't wait to start getting sam his demon blood supplements and went right in from the beginning. pregnant mary demon blood addict. it's i'm its'. i'm . i'm sorry . i want more than anything to discuss this au. it's soooo dark and wonderful and horrible in my head.

anna takes the role of cupid to force mary and john into heavenlove. gay.

gay teenage mary and a genderweird girl she teaches how to shoot in the woods

annamary . poetic bullshit about falling angels and lobotomies and memory and grace and free will and choice and gay mary and angelf*ckin

i have. thirty active wips. i just put em all on a lil tracking list. thirty. active. wips.

[jacularmetteld]

***

[twistedwonderworm]

Warm (TWST NSFW)

Pairing: Jamil Viper x M!reader

Warnings: Waxplay

Word count: 407

Everyone in this fic is 18+

🐍🐍🐍🐍🐍

Y/N shivered as Jamil's warm hands trailed down his body, letting out a soft sigh. He was trying to calm himself down but he was too excited. Jamil gave him a soft smile and a gentle peck on the lips as his hand gripped the special candle he got just for this moment.

"Are you ready, dear~?" The vice housewarden asked his partner, rubbing Y/N's chest softly, his deft fingers playfully tugging on a nipple.

Y/N mewled softly, arching his back to press his chest closer to Jamil's hand. Though Jamil soon pulled his hand away, causing Y/N to whine.

"Darling, remember what I said," Jamil huffed. "This kind of play is extreme. I need to make sure you understand this and are completely ready."

The magicless human thought for a minute, remembering all the talks they've had about this kink. It was something that Jamil really wanted to try, and Y/N had been excited to try it out with him.

He soon nodded, "I'm ready, love." He settled back down on the towels underneath him, set there to catch any stray wax so they wouldn't ruin the floor.

Jamil leaned back and smiled, taking some time to admire his beautiful lsoft and to make sure they had all the stuff they needed. A first aid kit containing burn ointment lay next to Jamil's left knee and right next to that was some lukewarm water and a washcloth for washing off the wax when they were done. Satisfied that they remembered everything they were going to need, Jamil turned back to his lover and started their play.

When the drops of wax hit Y/N's skin, Jamil could see the muscles in his abdomen and arms contracting and relaxing as a soft hiss left Y/N's lips. This was addicting to Jamil, especially when he saw Y/N's cock twitch.

"You're still with me right, love?" Jamil asked with a small smirk resting on his lips.

Y/N's face grew warm as a flush crept over his cheeks and he nodded, "Yes, I'm still with you. Can we continue?"

Jamil nodded dripped about more wax over his lover, his free hand trailing over the skin that was wax free. He smirked more when Y/N gasped and shivered more, knowing that the pain of the wax was heightening the other sensations. He knew that they were both going to love this kink.

[safetycar-restart]

Just wondering what your thoughts on wax play are? I did a bit of research for my own fic recently and discovered there are specific candles (usually soy based) where the wax burns at a lower temperature then turns into massage oil. How d'you think the drivers you write for would react to the idea of it? I think it could be something a dom and a sub could really get into as a main activity in a scene or as a 'come down' activity and something to relax to.

Okay so I actually had to look this up because I had never heard of candles that do that and now I am obsessed?? This is just incredible I love it so much?? So, I have a few ideas for different drivers/AUs so I'm gonna write a little bit about each of my ideas and then you guys can request more or send your own ideas :))

PIERRE:

So when I went on my candle deep dive (which really was a deep dive by the way) I discovered that some of those types of candles can actually be used as a moisturiser? So they have a very low melting point and then you can even choose one that has anti-inflammatory properties and what not.

So I'm thinking, using a candle like that for a very light scene with Pierre the day after you did an intense pain play scene? So then, Pierre submits (and he already loves wax play), and instead of normal wax play, because his skin is far too sensitive and raw for normal wax play, you use on of those candles so it can actually help heal Pierre's skin at the same time.

Of course Pierre is in actual heaven, already so relaxed from the pain play the day before, and now he feels so good because he's getting to submit again and he's getting care of.

POLY!PIARLES:

So we've said that Charles doesnt like pain play, and you will sometimes Dom Pierre and do intense scenes without Charles and then Charles will just join afterwards for some cuddles and to help with aftercare.

However, I think Charles would be really intrigued when he sees the aftermath of waxplay? And he kind of wants to try, but he's a soft little bunny, he doesnt want to be burnt.

Pierre suggests these candles, because they're not as hot and then of course your little bunny gets a nice massage afterwards and it's the best thing ever.

LEWIS:

We dont often talk about sub!lewis, but I think lewis really wants to be looked after? Lewis just... when he submits he doesn't want to be used or degraded or even fucked. He just wants someone else to take care of him properly.

So something like this is absolutely perfect for him.

MAX:

Particularly when combined with feminisation, this is so good for Max because he loves feeling pretty and cared for. He always wants soft things, to submit but to feel all safe and warm.

And absolutely your pretty girl deserves a nice massage in cute pink panties.

[unhinged-summer-fun]

Danktober Week 2 Roundup

Day 08: scene 02. [joel miller x f!reader] waxplay / match / national motorcycle ride day

Day 09: foreplay (long time) [marcus moreno x f!reader] praise kink / nest / international beer and pizza day

Day 10: in sickness and health [frankie morales x f!reader] pregnancy / crabby / world mental health day

Day 11: hiccup [agent whiskey x f!reader] sensory deprivation / bluff / national face your fears day

Day 12: scene 03. [joel miller x f!reader] humiliation / forget / national farmers day

Day 13: masquerade [marcus pike x gn!reader] public + scent / kind / world sight day

Day 14: waiting for the sun [din djarin x f!reader] role reversal / empty / national i love you day

[link to week 1 roundup]

[full danktober list here]

End of week recap under the cut!

Nearly halfway through the month already?! Compared to last year's Flunktober, I found myself more inspired and comfortable with starting (and stopping!) these prompts as I pleased. Some of them don't quite come across that way in the context of the work (seven thousand words of Marcus Moreno later) but after 35k later (SHEESH) I am basking in that light of inspiration like never before. I have no pressure or expectation of myself to make every fic a series, or every series complete.

It makes me wonder if the fervor I experienced is in any way going to carry on through November and beyond.

How in the fucking christ did I post 25k in just one week yall. HOW. Literally the posted word count for both weeks is 34.9k right now. The sum of all 31 days right now is over 65k and is only looking like it's gonna grow even more.

What went well? The week as a whole went exceptionally smooth, as I'd had all seven of these in first-draft before October 1st was even close to getting here. I've started getting a pattern down to posting the morning of. I uploaded the fics into the queue and waited for the time to come for them to be posted, and with that ready to go I was able to backtrack and re-distribute links across my masterlist. The first week was definitely way more difficult, but I found my stride!

What didn't go well? Farmer Joel Day 08 didn't do nearly as well as I thought it would. Compared to the snip I posted on Day 02, this one just shat the bed in terms of attention/sharing. While I don't do this kinda stuff for numerical validation, I do get fairly discouraged when all I see are a few likes and no feedback. There were a few points this week where I wondered glumly if anyone would fucking care if I stopped posting for the challenge.

What surprised you? Honestly, how affected I would be by the downtick in engagement. I credit that a lot with my therapy homework though, honestly - I've been ruminating on a negative core belief of mine from my childhood that I don't need or deserve praise or positive attention. I need to do some work to distance my codependency on notes/feedback, because it had me questioning whether I even continued.

What didn't surprise you? The same goddamn thing happened three separate times where I went to edit down a work and ended up lengthening it by several score greater than I started. On one hand, it proves that setting something down for a while and picking it back up is a great way to reintroduce yourself to your creativity without the pressure of finishing something.

Which work did you like writing the most? Farmer Joel on Day 08. It was the first thing I ever wrote for Joel, and while it's atmospheric as all hell, I truly love the cohesion of the story - even if it lacks a ton of context divulged later on!

What are you excited for about next week? Primal Play with Joel Miller and the fun crossover of two of my AUs: Mesh Network and Puppy Marcus. The reader in that coming Puppy Marcus next week will be an F!Reader instead of the typical GN!Reader that's with Marcus, but the Reader in this instance is the one in Mesh Network.

Thanks for reading! if you want to be notified when these roundups come up, go to the danktober masterlist and read the taglist information at the bottom. <3 besitos

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 14.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

<- prev || masterlist || next ->

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: filmed sex/voyeurism/exhibitionism as usual, semi-public sex, foodplay, a lot of sloppy making out, creampie is not the only type of dessert involved, very soft dom!jin, sub!reader, unprotected sex but who’s surprised, dom!hoseok, waxplay, painplay, very explicit discussion about consent since waxplay is technically edgeplay, restraints, cuffs, flogging, hobi in his element is a kink in and of itself, degradation, discipline, subspace, scratching, rough sex, hoseok going the extra mile honestly, still unprotected sex, cumshot

dedicated to my sfhs girls, everyone in the villa discord, and sponsored by the red room

FAN FAVOURITE

On the sixth Day of every Week in the game, the Audience Fan Favourite vote is released for 48 hours following the post of the fic. Please note, this is NOT the elimination vote, which is taken on the seventh Day of each Week.

The vote is at the end of this chapter.

DAY TWENTY

Though it’s the weekend (as if that has any real significance when you aren’t really working) you wake up tragically early, before the sun’s even risen.

Unsure of what woke you, you rub your eyes and duck your head out into the hallway. To your surprise, there’s the distinct yellowish glow from a light on downstairs. It’s hard to walk down the stairs when your head is full of cotton, your eyes still bleary and your mouth constantly stretched in a yawn, but finally you stumble down into the main space.

Frozen, with a metal spoon hanging out of his mouth and his eyes wide and red, is the oldest man of the house. He leans dejectedly against the kitchen counter, haunting a tub of ice cream that’s definitely not intended for one person. You quickly realise what may have woken you is the obnoxious whir of the microwave, something in a covered glass jar twirling round and round inside.

“What-” you swallow and clear your throat when the word comes out croaky, “what are you doing here so early? Are you okay?”

Still startled by your presence, he blinks a few times and removes the spoon from his mouth, letting it clatter to the table. “I’ve been better.”

Your face drops in sympathy, ignoring the freezing tile on your feet as you approach him. Without waiting for permission, you wrap your arms around his waist and pull him close to you in a tight hug. “What’s up, Jinnie? You can be honest with me. If you let me have some of your ice cream, of course.”

That manages to pull a weak laugh from him as he hands you the spoon and ruffles your hair. “I am, as it turns out,” he explains, “incredibly stupid.”

“Ah.” You dig into the tub of ice cream one handed, dislodging a chunk of what looks like brownie. “First of all, I disagree, but more importantly, why do you think that?”

“Do you have an hour?” Jin sighs at the poor attempt at lightening his own mood. “To tell you the truth, and this may come as a shock to you, but-”

“Is this about Yoongi and you fucking?”

Jin pulls back, staring you down with a bewildered expression.

You swallow a cold mouthful, furrowing your brows apologetically. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted. Go on.”

“I- How did you- Who knows?”

You hum for a minute, tapping the end of the spoon against your lips. “Oh, I’d imagine everyone,” you summarise. “Subtlety isn’t your strong suit.” You wince as you recall a few particular evenings. “Nor is volume control.”

“Right.” Jin has the good grace to look sheepish at that, but gently tugs the spoon back. The microwave beeps noisily behind you, and he curses, rushing over to pull the jar out. “Anyways, yes, Yoongi and I have been casual for a short time now, but things are messy. And I suppose I sort of thought they were good messy, but last night I realised how very not-good messy they were. I haven’t been fair to Yoongi. Or you.”

You tilt your head, watching him uncover a lightly steaming jar full of what looks and smells like caramel. “Me? What does this have to do with me?”

Jin opens his mouth, grimaces, and closes it again. After a few moments of silence where he stirs the sauce and tastes a bit of it, he finally faces you to speak. “After the fight, you didn’t really...say anything about what you found out. My feelings for you, I mean. Not that you were at all obligated to, of course, but I wanted to give you space. And… I wanted to have space too, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so when Yoongi expressed interest in me, I thought him and I could help each other out.”

He pours some of the sauce directly into the tub of icecream, but then puts it down and rests his forearms on the countertop, really leans his whole body weight onto them like it’s hard to stay standing. “Yoongi has feelings for me,” he explains. “I don’t know if you know that too, but- yeah. He said- even as recently as yesterday, he said he was fine, but I should know better. It’s irresponsible of me to take his words as gospel when I can so clearly see, as his friend and as a trained therapist, that he isn’t okay.”

You want to wait until he’s said his piece, but your chest feels hot, like your ribs are smouldering coals. You can’t stop your tongue. “I don’t need space.”

Jin blinks, caught off-guard. “Huh?”

“I don’t need space,” you repeat in a warm voice, “I don’t want you to be distant. Fuck Yoongi if you want, but don’t do it just because you’re avoiding me. You’re right; that isn’t fair to either of us.”

“I know,” he concedes, shoveling another spoonful of melted ice cream and sauce into his mouth to buy him some thinking time. “It’s getting out of hand, too. Just yesterday Jungkook asked to join and- God, this is such a mess. I should end it, shouldn’t I?”

Your tongue tingles with the urge to press about Jungkook. Feeling like that isn’t really Jin’s priority right now, you change tact. “Do you want to end it?”

Jin furrows his brows, deep in thought. Clad in blue and white striped pyjamas, his face seems far too serious for his attire, but it’s clear this is really eating away at him if he’s up so early thinking about it. Had he even gone to bed at all? “I don’t want to,” he admits, “being with Yoongi is so easy. And not like- not logistically, I’m not saying Yoongi is easy, but… God, I don’t know how to say this without it being soppy. It feels right. But at what point do I stop doing what I want and start thinking about others? I need to do what’s best for Yoongi.”

It’s hard conveying any semblance of intelligent thought when you probably have not even half of the whole story, but you do your best for him. “Is that a decision you should be making on his behalf, though? I feel like you should be having this conversation with him.”

Jin sighs, placing the spoon down so it doesn’t clatter. “Here’s the thing. I’ve been going over and over it in my head. My reasons for sleeping with him aren’t all noble or genuine or even fair. And I know he has feelings for me. I think if I let this continue I’ll be hurting him. So surely ending it is the right thing to do?”

You mull it over a moment. “It seems like you already know the answer, Jin,” you offer up softly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Jin bites his lip, eyes distant. “If I text him, if I tell him that we need to talk, or that we shouldn’t do it anymore, then… You said you didn’t need space. So can we talk? About us?”

“Of course,” you reply immediately, though your heart rate quickens at the thought, “that’s probably for the best, too.”

“Alright.” Jin wipes his hands on his shirt pants, whether it’s to get off the stickiness of the dessert or sweat you don’t know, but soon enough he’s slipping his phone out and hunkering down on the kitchen tile floor.

You join him, scooching up so that your shoulders bump. With your back against the cabinets and your lower half on those icy tiles, normally you’d be shivering. But Jin’s body is like a radiator, and he leans into you as he unlocks his phone and pulls up Yoongi’s contact.

For his privacy, you try not to look, but you can’t help but notice the name for Yoongi is Min City, and that their recent texts are calls for late-night rendezvous. Jin takes a deep breath, his thumbs hovering over the keypad. “What do I even say?” he muses out loud. “I’m a therapist; why can’t I even work out a good ‘we should talk’ text?”

You hook your hand under his arm, tucking it to your side. “Start off by apologising for texting him at ass o’clock in the morning,” you jibe.

Jin pauses. “I’ll probably rephrase,” he admits, “but that’s solid.”

hey yoongichi, sorry about texting you so early. |

“Okay, what next?” Jin says in a shortened breath.

You let out a light laugh. “This is your message,” you remind him, “but fine. How about this? Tell him that you’ve been thinking a lot, which you have, and that you just can’t keep sleeping with him in good conscience because you don’t feel like it’s wise. And maybe, like, tell him to come find you when he reads it so you can have a proper chat. It shouldn’t just be done over text, you know?”

“That’s true… Okay, here goes.” Jin swallows hard as he types away, and were it not for the fact that these were your friends who were involved, you’d laugh at the cheesiness of the moment. Like something off a trashy k-drama, though your life felt more and more like one every day anyway.

hey yoongichi, sorry about texting you so early. i’ve been doing a lot of thinking after our talk, and i just really don’t think us doing this is a good idea anymore. please let me know when you get this. we can talk it over a bit. |

“Is that all I need?”

You shrug. “I guess so. Unless you wanna add an ‘xoxo’ to the end of it.”

Jin bites his lip. “That may send mixed messages.”

“It was a joke, Jinnie,” you protest, shoving him playfully. “Anyway, are you gonna send i-”

A loud ding cuts you off, echoing slightly in the otherwise silent house. Above the box of text Jin had been crafting, a new strip of grey appears.

The both of you freeze, staring in disbelief at the screen. “Did he just..?” Before you can even finish that sentence, a second chime rings out again, and the screen shifts to display more grey, slightly smaller than the first.

“Looks like,” Jin murmurs, scrolling up to view the new message. “Holy shit.”

I’m sure you’re still asleep jin-hyung, so just text me when you get this but yesterday i was lying when i said i was fine, because i’m really not and jungkook has really helped to give me a little perspective so i’m sorry if you still need someone to distract you but i’m not gonna be that someone anymore

No hard feelings btw, i still feel the same way about you but i don’t think we should have sex for a while, i just need some distance. I like to think that you’d want me to put myself first and i’m doing that now. I hope you can understand

“That… I guess that’s that sorted,” Jin says slowly, tapping the screen to delete his message. “Should I reply now?” He thinks for a moment, then shakes his head as he locks the phone. “No, I’ll wait until later. He won’t be expecting a reply now, anyway. Hopefully he can get some sleep.” His eyes turn sad. “Do you think he was up all night stressing about that?”

“Hey,” you warn lowly, “don’t guilt yourself. The two of you can straighten things out later, and sleep better tonight. Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah.” He releases a slow breath, his body heavy with unshed tension. For a moment, the two of you stay silent, you giving him time to process. When he speaks, he shuffles his whole body around to face you. “I know why you’ve been so hesitant,” he announces suddenly.

You frown. “Wait, what? Hesitant?”

“Yes,” he insists, “you haven’t really talked at all about if you return my feelings. I used to feel really confused and hurt by it, but I get it now.”

Your stomach rolls strangely, a feeling like being caught red-handed. “What do you mean?”

“Last night,” he explains, “I came up to tell everyone that dinner wasn’t far away. You weren’t in your room, and Taehyung wasn’t in his…” He trails off meaningfully, and realisation settles in your bones, not shock, but resignation.

“Oh.” You swallow, sitting up so you’re no longer leaning towards him. “You saw us? In Jimin’s room?”

“I won’t tell,” he begins automatically, “and it’s okay. I see that you’ve been answered for already. I’ll respect that.”

“It isn’t like that,” you say reflexively, “we - god, we weren’t supposed to let anyone know, I can’t believe we didn’t lock the door - but we aren’t together together. It would be too messy, and it was putting a strain on our relationships with everyone else, you know?”

Jin frowns, like he’s trying to work it all out. “So it isn’t a romantic relationship?”

You smile thinking of Taehyung’s loving brown eyes and Jimin’s gentle embrace. “It’s a promise,” you explain softly, wrapping your arms around your torso. “We aren’t making any commitments or ties now, and we obviously can’t be exclusive, so it’s a promise that once we’re out of here, we’ll try and explore our feelings. Do it right.”

The therapist takes in a deep breath, nodding. “Then where do I fit into all of this? Does that mean I have a chance?”

“I-” You bite your lip, avoiding his imploring gaze. “It would feel wrong getting into a relationship when I’d decided that I wouldn’t do it with them. If that makes sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” he assures, “but that’s not what I mean. I don’t need to be in a relationship with you to treat you right, Y/n. I just want to know if there’s a chance in hell that you return my feelings.”

You lift your eyes at this, staring at the way his soften in response. Your heart thuds in your chest and there’s a liquid relief pumping through your veins that he’s willing to stay by you. If you didn’t already know it before, those sensations certainly make it clear. “I like you, Jin. A lot.”

He smiles in relief, a small and sweet one that makes his eyes crinkle. Rather than responding verbally, he slips one large palm around the nape of your neck and pulls you in for a kiss.

Eyes slipping shut the moment he comes close, you reach out blindly for him and fist your hand in the thin fabric of his pyjamas to steady yourself. His lips are so plush, and moving so slowly, that it feels like they could slow down time itself. There’s no urgency in the sensual way he kisses you, but you can nonetheless taste his elation sweeter than the remnants of caramel on his tongue.

In that same way, you have no idea how much time passes with your mouths locked together, slowly warming the kitchen floor with your body heat until your skin feels on fire. Even the slightest details, like his fingertips on the back of your neck and your inner wrist make you dizzy.

You break apart for air, still clinging to him like you’d drown without his touch. Panting, you try to slow your racing heart. Your lips still tingle, and reach up to brush your fingers against them in wonder. “Oh, wow,” you whisper dumbly.

Jin smiles, then, a brilliant one that warms his whole face. “Wow,” he repeats. “I’ve been waiting to kiss you like that for a long time, Y/n.”

Barely able to think, you find your eyes slipping down to his lips, how swollen they are, dusky pink. “You can do it again, if you want.”

Jin goes to lean forward, but halts, looking up to the countertop. “One sec,” he hedges, “I’m determined to continue my opportunist streak.”

“Your what?” You chuckle at first, but as he reaches up and drags the jar of caramel sauce down, your eyes quickly widen in realisation.

Jin catches your look, sending you a wink. “Open up,” he instructs, and you drop your jaw without hesitation, anticipation heightening your senses.

When he tips the lip of the container forward, and you feel that warm sweetness burst on your tongue, you moan, tilting your head back so it pools in your mouth. But instead of stopping, he continues to pour, until you feel it threaten to spill out. “Too much,” you try to say, but you can’t move your tongue or lips enough to enunciate it.

Jin only pulls the jar away when it begins to drip down your chin, and like a man starved, he leans in and licks into your mouth without abandon.

You moan as you feel his tongue cut through the molten sugar, running over yours, over your teeth and lips and even ducking down to messily swipe up the stickiness on your face. No matter how much he ravishes you, the moment you begin to kiss back, your tongue lifts and a thick wave of hot caramel slips between your mouths, no doubt getting on your pyjama shirt.

Jin doesn’t seem to care; on the contrary, he moans and clasps your face in both hands, nipping at your lips and deepening the kiss more than you even thought possible. Slowly, the sweetness of caramel gives way to his own taste, and you’re left licking each other filthily, entwined together on the kitchen floor.

Once your chest is aching with a lack of oxygen, you pull away with a gasp, wincing at the weird feeling of caramel on your chest. “So messy,” you groan, “sorry, I didn’t think you’d pour so much.”

Jin’s eyes just light up with mirth. “Messy is the point, baby. We probably have, what-” he pauses to consult the time on the microwave, “two hours before the early risers are up? Why don’t we make an even bigger mess? I’ve decided I’d like to have my dessert first.”

You press your lips together to prevent a moan, nodding frantically. “Fuck, please. I want you.”

The therapist’s chest hitches, but he reaches out to squeeze your thigh. “Lie back, then, baby. Can you take your shirt off for me?”

You’re in such a hurry to obey him, shivering violently at the cold tile against your bare back, that when you suddenly feel a cold burst on your chest you jump, getting a fright.

There’s not enough time to feel that burst of ice, however, as a hot tongue quickly laps it up, collecting every last drop. Jin even sucks the skin there, just above the swell of your breast, to make sure he’s cleaned you up.

You writhe on the floor, your panties uncomfortably soaked, but Jin just throws a leg and an arm over you, straddling you and caging you against the floor. His weight against you makes you moan, that delicious sensation of being trapped exactly where you most want to be.

This time, when he digs his spoon into the slightly-melted ice cream, he pops it into his mouth instead of on your skin. You almost assume he’s just taking some for himself, but then he’s dipping his head and wrapping those sinful lips around one of your nipples, making you cry out.

The cold is immediately overwhelming, tightening and stiffening your peak, and the dizzying mix of his hot tongue with that cold dessert has you clinging to his back, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. “F-fuck, Jin,” you gasp, “so cold.”

“Is it?” Jin quips, his hand reaching to his side. “Oh, I’m sorry, baby.”

Without giving you a moment’s respite, he’s drizzling trails of caramel over your breasts, and lapping it up with ravenous enthusiasm. Though the caramel has gone mostly room-temperature, the contrast against your cooled nipple just makes it feel that much more electric, and you arch your back harshly until Jin finally reaches it and soothes it with his mouth.

You moan, wishing you had something to rut against, some type of friction where you needed it most, but Jin’s more focused on licking, nipping and sucking the sugar off of your body, leaving you trembling. “More,” you plead needily.

“More sauce? More ice cream?” he asks, panting as his own arousal presses stiffly against your lower stomach.

“More you,” you beg, arching up into him, making him curse lowly.

Like desperate virgins, you both quickly discard the last of your clothing, Jin just about popping the buttons of his shirt clean off, and it feels simultaneously like a second and a century before you feel his familiar girth pressing into you, stretching your dripping walls.

You groan, the back of your head knocking against the tile as you go slack, letting yourself focus fully on the sensation of him filling you up. “Fuck, Jin,” you gasp out, legs wrapping around his torso as he goes deeper and deeper.

When he bottoms out, however, Jin doesn’t begin fucking you straight away. Instead, he reaches for the jar. “Tongue out, baby,” he instructs.

Swallowing the drool that gathers in your mouth from the pleasure, you stick out your tongue until you feel it on your chin, awaiting the stream. Clearly wanting to be as messy as possible, Jin intentionally lifts his hand higher so that instead of a mouthful, you get whippings of sugar all over your neck, chin, and cheeks. Hardly any actually makes it in your mouth, but the therapist just chuckles and puts the jar beside him, bending down to run his tongue in a broad swipe up your cheek.

You squeal, turning your head to the side, but the surprise quickly bubbles into arousal as he laps up every last drop, sucking hickies into your neck all the way. The longer he goes, the more you need him, wetter and wetter around his cock. Rocking your hips just to get some friction, you whine into the silence of the kitchen. “Jin, fuck me already,” you plead.

Jin’s first thrust punches all the air out of you. He snaps his hips hard enough to push your body forward from the tile, then grabs your waist with a low growl, pinning you against the floor.

Though the tiles are still cold, your body heat is quickly taking the edge off, and being fucked against such a hard surface is a new feeling to you entirely. There’s no give, no bounce. When Jin begins fucking you at a greedy pace, you feel every inch of him stretching you open.

Your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, trying not to moan loud enough that the sound would travel upstairs, but barely able to even contain them at all. “Fucking me so go-mmf!” Your mouth is filled with a cold intruder, and you suck hard, swirling your tongue around the two fingers covered with ice cream. Jin curses lowly at the feeling, and suddenly he’s picking up the pace even more.

You cry out around his fingers, hands flailing to find something to latch onto and anchor yourself, but your knuckles whack into something solid. The ache in your fingers is quickly drowned out by the sudden rush of thick wetness on your stomach, and your eyes fly open, choking on Jin’s digits.

His thrusts slow down and he pulls his hand away and before you can say a single thing, the room is filled with the contagious sound of his laughter. Cock still buried deep inside you, and one hand dripping with caramel, holding onto the near-empty jar, Jin howls, shoulders shaking with the force of it.

“Hey!” you whine, pouting when the caramel disperses over you, soon dripping down onto your back and the floor. “Don’t laugh at me! You wouldn’t like it if your chest was drenched in caramel!”

Jin discards the jar beside him with a sticky clink, and composes himself, though that glint still remains alight in his eyes. “Oh, wouldn’t I?” Without a moment’s hesitation, he’s bending down until your chests are pressed together, separated only by that slippery layer of sauce.

A muffled squeak leaves your lips when he captures them again, his fingers scratching lines up your sides, making you shiver. You try to protest his attempt at tickling you while you were vulnerable, but then he’s rocking his hips, shallow strokes that grind into you so deep.

You moan, wrapping your arms around his back. Every time you feel his nails cutting through the syrup, you scratch his back. Instead of deterring him, however, he just groans into your mouth and doubles his efforts at fucking you.

Slowly, his hands move around from your sides to your back, and you cling to him tighter as he lifts you off the kitchen floor. Still delving his tongue deep into your mouth, he pulls you up until your torso is arched against him and your head tips back slightly, a perfect halfway point between horizontal and vertical, and uses the extra momentum to thrust up into you harder. The angle hits your g-spot roughly with every snap of his hips, and your clit grinds against his cock.

You cry out and lose contact with his mouth, but he just latches it onto your neck instead, dragging his teeth over your shoulder to let the cooled caramel pool in his mouth.

“Jinnie, I’m close,” you confess in a rush, your orgasm quickly building with a pressure between your legs. Something in the way your toes curl and stomach tenses warns you that this will be a powerful one, and your cries increase in pitch and volume, every breath a moan. “Jinnie! Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-”

“Make another mess for me, baby,” Jin groans, and with those words alone your vision goes white.

Jin curses when you lock up around him - legs and arms and pussy alike - but continues to rut against you as you ride the churning wave of your high. Burying your head into the crook of his neck so that you don’t wake the others with your keening scream, you feel a sudden burst inside you that leaves you trembling uncontrollably beneath him.

You feel Jin’s chin pressing into your hair as he glances down, grunting with exertion, and suddenly he’s freezing, holding you tightly to him as he cums inside of you.

The warmth of him filling you is the perfect soother as you come down from that intense climax, and you sigh as he leans forward, lying you back down on the kitchen tile. The two of you fight to catch your breath, the only sounds in the room your joint gasps.

Above you, Jin’s chest heaves, dripping with caramel just like yours must be. He doesn’t take any bother though, wiping away the sweat on his brow with a clean patch of his forearm. “Man,” he exclaims with a cheery chuckle, “you really did make a mess, huh?”

“What?” you ask blearily, weakly propping yourself up on your elbows to glance down. Thinner and clearer than the caramel, a liquid drips over yours and Jin’s stomachs, running down to the tile. You’d squirted. With a weak groan, you let yourself collapse back onto the sticky floor. “It’s too early for this,” you whine. “Oh, god. We have to clean this up.”

Jin’s smile is wiped clear off his face. “Oh, fuck. I didn’t even think about that, my notes didn’t mention it…”

“Your notes?” you ask curiously, grimacing when Jin slowly pulls himself out of you, a stream of cum following and joining the mess of liquids on the floor. “What notes?”

The therapist lets out a nervous laugh as he gets up off the floor, grabbing a clean dish cloth from the bottom drawer. “I did some research, that’s all. Like, no spicy stuff near any mucous membranes because of the sting, no sugar in the vulva otherwise you might get a yeast infection-”

“Eugh,” you cut in, “I’m glad you did the research, but that just makes me want a shower even more now.”

“Go shower, then,” Jin allows with a sympathetic smile, wetting the cloth and beginning to wipe off the stickiness on his chest. “I can clean this up for you.”

“Absolutely not,” you insist, “I’ll quickly wash this off, but I’m coming back down to help you. The sun’s about to rise, so if we work together, maybe there won’t still be cummy sauce all over the floor when the others come down for breakfast.”

“It is probably a safety hazard,” Jin admits. “Okay, then, we’ll clean it together. I’ll have a quick shower once you get back.”

You beam up at him but, before you grab your clothes and rush up the stairs, you rise onto your tiptoes and press a kiss to his sugared lips. “Don’t miss me too much.”

Jin returns your warm smile, ducking down to steal another kiss, and another, and another until you’re giggling and ducking away. “I’ll do my best.”

--

“You aren’t being particularly subtle.”

Hoseok shrugs at Yoongi. “I’m not trying to be subtle.”

The doctor’s eyes narrow. “Then tell us what’s in the box.”

Hoseok hesitates. “I’m trying to be a little bit subtle.”

Taehyung groans, reaching out for the heavy cardboard box and glaring reproachfully at Hoseok when he smacks his hand away. “Could we have a clue?”

Hoseok smiles sweetly. “No.”

“Then why is it on the table?” the masseuse whines miserably. “You’re just teasing us!”

“I don’t know why you’re so bothered,” Yoongi notes, “it’s not even for you.”

Perhaps you’d be more bemused by the antics of the boys at the table were it not for your own rampant curiosity. As usual, your days were measured by communal mealtimes (courtesy of the fact that six of you were too lazy to cook for yourselves, and the remaining too were perfectly happy to make enough for you all) but this time, as you enjoyed a pan-seared fish of some sort, the flow of the table was interrupted by the package that Hoseok had so dramatically dropped down in front of him. “What is it on the table for?” you ask in what you hope is a casual, unbothered tone.

Hoseok sighs patiently like he’s been through this before. “It’s to create an atmosphere of anticipation,” he explains importantly. “This is reality TV gold, guys, this is exactly what the editors would put a close-up of right before the ad break.”

Jin furrows his brows. “I don’t think there are ad breaks, Hobi.”

“You get what I mean,” he huffs petulantly before clearing his throat, “anyway, let’s change the topic. Any gossip? Love declarations, plot twists; what have I missed?”

Jungkook opens his mouth, beside him Yoongi quickly places a hand on his thigh, and the younger boy sinks back into his chair. “Just the usual for me.” If you weren’t already looking at him, you might have missed the slip of a smile that he presses his lips together to suppress. “Except for the extra dicks I’ve been sucking.”

“Jungkook!” Yoongi shrieks, before sitting up straight. “Wait. Dicks, plural?”

“Well, yeah, Taehyung can’t fuck Y/n anymore, so…” Jungkook deflects. Across the table, Taehyung wordlessly throws his hands in the air in a ‘what can you do?’ type gesture. “It’s like an emergency relief fund but sex,” the youngest explains, “I’m very generous like that.”

Taehyung’s mouth drops open, his breezy demeanour fading. “Hey! You only sucked my dick because you said my technique was off!”

Jungkook smiles glacially at the rest of you. “I’m a giver,” he continues, “much like Yoongi, I teach on the side.” He pouts at Taehyung. “And your technique was off!”

“It was better than your sloppy toppy!” Taehyung defends. “I wanted a blowjob, not a shower.”

“Listen,” Jin says sharply as Jungkook lets out an offended cry, “the only way you’ll ever know for sure is if you have an objective party to compare the two directly.”

Jungkook harrumps, crossing his arms. “What; are you offering?”

Jin pauses. “To have...my dick sucked twice by two very attractive and enthusiastic people? Yes, yes I am.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at Jungkook. “You’re so on,” he threatens, “when I win, you have to let me join your stream.”

Jungkook’s already leaving the table, dragging Jin up by a handful of his hoodie. “Such a shame you’re not going to, then,” he taunts, “when you lose, you have to give me a full-body massage and no skimping on the back.”

The rest of you watch in speechless bemusement as Taehyung huffs and throws his chair back, hurrying after them. “Maybe if you didn’t slump in your chair so much, you wouldn’t have a sore back in the first place! Wait, Jungkook, not so fast, I just ate…”

Once the three have left, Yoongi clears his throat. “The gossips have left,” he states carefully, eyes serious as they watch Hoseok, “so what’s in the box?”

Hoseok giggles and claps his hands together, clearly delighted with the attention this box has given me. “You know, the more you ask, the less likely I am to show you.”

Yoongi immediately makes his expression sour, turning up his nose. “I don’t even want to see what’s inside the box,” he insists, “I don’t care at all.”

“Sure thing, hyung.”

The academic is next to have a go. With gentle eyes and shy fingers, Namjoon props his hands on the very edge of the table and looks over to Hoseok. “What if you just showed us one?” he bargains. “It just seems like such a shame to get them delivered all the way over here and not get to show more people.”

Hoseok purses his lips, still unconvinced. At the head of the table, Jimin lets out a scoff and stands up, picking his plate and cup off the table to go discard them in the dishwasher. “It’s going to be something boring,” he drawls, bending over slowly to put away the dishes, letting the table get an eyeful of the tight black jeans he’s wearing. “He’ll wrap Y/n up in rope like tinsel on a Christmas tree and call it BDSM.”

An indignant cry comes from the table as Hoseok watches Jimin reach into the fridge, pulling out a single raspberry from the fruit drawer in there, and grin rakishly at the older man. “That’s not true at all,” Hoseok defends insistently, “I’m just easing her into it. Besides; let me show you something from the box and then we’ll see what you think.”

“How- wha-?” Yoongi’s mouth drops open as Hoseok reaches for the box and uses a knife from the lunch to cut the tape down the middle. “He doesn’t even like you! Why was he the one to convince you?”

Hoseok barely takes note, shielding the opening from your eyes as he digs around inside. It’s near impossible to restrain your curiosity, but you curl your ankles around the chair legs and force yourself to stay seated as he shoves his hand in.

You hear clinks, thuds, and scrapes, before Hoseok lets out a triumphant gasp and pulls his arm up, retrieving a braided leather handle, which he lifts out of the box to reveal a whip of sorts, complete with a neat pile of clean-cut leather strips. Your eyes widen as Hoseok sets it on the table with a weighty thunk, closing the box back up.

“Too boring for you?” Hoseok asks of Jimin with a challenging stare. One finger lazily trails along one of the tails of leather, neatly folded in a gathered loop on the table, making you swallow harshly at the thought of what one of those might feel like lashing across your skin.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Jimin returns to the table, inspecting it slowly. “And what are you going to do with that, big boy? Such a big flogger; I must admit, it seems like you’re overcompensating.”

Hoseok scoffs, a smirk playing at his lips. “I’ve caught you staring enough times, Peaches,” he taunts, “you and I both know that’s not true.”

This time, Jimin seems almost expectant of the nickname, and just rolls his eyes. “I’m surprised you noticed, seeing as your eyes are always locked onto my ass. Bet you wish you had a handful, huh?”

Hoseok frowns, pushing himself away from the table. “Did I eat too much or did the thought of dirtying my hands with you make me physically sick?” he questions rhetorically, making Jimin huff. “Anyways, I’ve got a scene to set up. Best for last, and all that.”

With a flourish, Hoseok picks up the whip - or, as Jimin had said, flogger - handle between two fingers and throws the tail of leather strips over his shoulder, lifting the box into his arms with a light grunt of exertion. Suddenly, he turns his gaze to you, warm but firm. “The downstairs bathroom; be there in half an hour wearing your underwear and only your underwear.”

You suck in a breath when he suddenly leans in close, hoisting the box on his hip as he uses the opposite hand to reach out and fiddle with your bra strap, snapping it against your shoulder with a teasing smile. “If you want to make Master happy,” he says in a voice like crushed velvet, “pick something pretty.”

Hoseok disappears down the hallway with all the drama of a Disney villain, sans a cape to billow behind him, and Yoongi lets out a slow sigh, getting up from his chair. “Well, I’m going to go outside and try and forget about all the debauchery in here. Anyone else?”

Namjoon straightens up immediately, hips bumping against the table. “Sounds good to me,” he rushes out, still looking a little pale from seeing that sneak peek of Hoseok’s box of toys.

Jimin, on the other hand, glances up towards the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. “You two go ahead,” he states, “I think the little ones upstairs could use another judge.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows lift, almost looking like he’s about to reconsider his choice to leave, but Namjoon is already suggesting they could bring out some board games or a pack of cards, and as usual Yoongi is softer than he likes to think he is.

Once everyone has left you alone in the living room, you slump back onto the table, letting out a breath. Your skin is already tingling relentlessly wondering what those strips of leather would feel like raining down on your skin. And that tool must have only been taking up a small portion of that box. It was heavy, full with other surprises that you couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Taking a look at the time, you curse and scamper upstairs to track down something pretty for Hoseok.

--

It’s impossible to stop your mind from conjuring up countless images of what could be waiting for you. Big posts of metal or wood to tie a sub to, chains and latex and the Hollywood taboo of kink that comes to mind. But in the end, it seems trying to picture anything at all was a useless venture, as when you make it downstairs and knock on the door exactly thirty minutes after Hoseok let you, what’s inside is not anything you would have ever expected.

The bathroom itself is decently large, with flat tile all over, a row of showerheads without the luxury of cubicles, a large bath set into one corner, and a bench with a mirror.

But in the middle of the room, closer to the bench than the showers, sits Hoseok.

There’s nothing around him bar a single empty chair that he inclines his head towards, silently instructing you to sit. You glance around in suspicion, but the cardboard box is folded up just beside him and there’s nothing else to see.

Hoseok himself quite easily takes his spot as the centre of attention, though. As you sit gingerly on the wooden chair, grimacing at the scraping sound of the legs on the floor, you look him over. As usual, he makes his statement in black. Hoseok dons boots that lace up to just below his knees, tight leather pants, and a collared shirt that shimmers slightly in the light, like expensive silk. Around his middle is a belt that tightly cinches his waist, accentuating his chest and shoulders. With his hair parted and slightly curling to one side, you don’t miss the way his eyebrow quirks up. “Are you quite done?”

Your cheeks heat, and you lean back until you can feel the chair digging in. “Sorry.”

“Sorry, who?”

“Sorry, Sir,” you stutter out as quickly as you can, lowering your gaze.

“Dear me, I hope you haven’t forgotten your manners already,” he croons with a faux look of disappointment, crossing a leg over his knee. “Lucky for you, our scene hasn’t started yet. I want to have a little conversation with you first.”

You swallow, eyes darting down to that cardboard box, curiosity eating you up from the inside. “What do you want to talk about, sir?”

Hoseok’s eyes soften slightly and he laces his fingers over the top of his knee. “You and I are going to have a talk together as two adults, princess. I know we have the consent forms and safewords, but this one requires a little more direct communication. Normally in a scene, you’d be kneeling or I’d be standing right now, but I want you to be fully aware that we are having this discussion as equals. Understood? You can ask questions, raise concerns, anything you need.”

Though your heart hasn’t stopped racing, you feel yourself beginning to calm, relieved for a chance to properly prepare yourself and see what’s going to happen. “Yes, understood. Sir.”

Hoseok’s eyes fleck with mirth as he tilts his head. “First of all; are you allergic to soy or paraffin? I know we have the allergy sheets, but I’d feel safer double-checking.”

You frown, brows knitting in confusion. “Soy? Like soy sauce? And no, I’m not allergic to either of them.”

When Hoseok smiles to reveal his teeth, you catch a glimpse of his dom side, even as he maintains a friendly disposition. “Soy candles, princess.”

A flicker of alarm rushes through you, and you clasp your hands together, fiddling your digits to keep calm. “Is this like, pouring hot wax? I don’t know, Hoseok…”

“It wasn’t a hard limit you listed,” Hoseok reminds gently, “has that changed?”

You swallow. “I- no, it hasn’t but it’s still a soft limit, and I don’t know if-”

“That’s why I wanted to sit down and have a talk with you about it,” he explains without missing a beat, “and if, at the end, you want to keep it as a limit, we’ll do something else. I don’t mind forfeiting the challenge and taking a week in the bunks; they’re perfectly comfortable.” You still don’t answer, feeling scarily vulnerable in a bra and lace panties, nothing but a loose satin robe over top to keep you a little warm and covered. Hoseok’s warm expression keeps you anchored. “Wax play isn’t explicitly pain play, it can be sensation play just like running an ice cube over your skin. And I’ve been doing it for years, princess, if you know what you’re doing, it’s perfectly safe. Do you want to hear me out? There are no obligations.”

You suck in a deep breath, taking a second to think. “I want to at least hear you first,” you decide, “but I really don’t know.”

“I understand entirely,” Hoseok says, and a strange change overtakes his face as he bends down to slip open the folds keeping the box closed. It’s a slight lifting of his brows, pursing of his lips while still being relaxed. The almost stern look of a teacher as he pulls out a weighty red candle, rolling it over in his palm. He glances back at you, presenting it. The two of you are seated close enough together that you only have to lean forward to take it from him.

He lets you look over it as he speaks, his voice soothing and practiced. “This is a pillar candle,” he explains, “see how it’s quite girthy? When you light a candle like that, the molten wax pools in the middle. So when you go to tip it, you can control how much wax you want to pour and when. Some people will have at least two candles burning so that they can alternate. These ones are soy, but I brought paraffin too in case you had an allergy.”

Out of curiosity, you dig your nail into the top, by the fresh wick, and watch thick red wax build up under the nail. “Doesn’t it burn you?” you question. “Like it got melted because of actual fire, surely it would burn.”

Hoseok shrugs. “Not with the right wax.” He takes it back from you, flipping it up to show off the base where a small white sticker displays some information about the candle in tiny print. “Soy and paraffin both tend to melt at roughly the same temperature, and it’s low enough that it won’t burn you. The further away you drop it from affects the temperature when it gets to your skin, too. But candles like beeswax melt at a very high temperature. Those can be dangerous, and you’d never catch me or anyone at Red using them. Now-!” Slipping the short, fat candle back into the box with a soft thud, he pulls out a second one. This one is black, and thin with a pointed end at the top. “This one is a taper candle. There’s no room for the wax to build up, so when you light it, it’ll drop the melted wax one drop at a time. The advantage is that it’s handy for constant use, and very easy to maneuver. One of my friends at Red actually uses it in suspension bondage. She’ll tie up her sub and slip a lit taper into the rope somewhere so that it drips on, say, the sub’s back or stomach. You can imagine if you where tied up and blindfolded, feeling a single drop of heat at a time would be a pretty intense experience.”

The dom breaks off with a laugh at the look on your face, and promptly slips it back in the box. “For our purposes, I’m going to use the pillar. It means that I can easily stop at any time and let the wax just sit in that little divot at the top without it getting everywhere. Still with me?”

You nod quickly, shifting on the chair. Perhaps it’s the hypnotic, soothing lilt of his voice as he walks you through it, or perhaps you’re just realising that it’s not as scary as it seems, but that soft limit is getting softer and softer. “You can go on,” you state in a small voice.

Hoseok’s beam is addicting, brightening the room as he lets out a pleased hum and stands up. Instead of approaching you, however, he walks right past to the bench, fiddling with something in the sink there before he’s filling it up. “An important safety measure,” he explains, “is to have a water source nearby. In case it’s too hot, or the candle catches on anything. I’m doing it in here so that there’s not really anything flammable like carpet or curtains, but there’s no such thing as being too safe.”

You watch him shake the water off his hand with a fond smile. He returns to sit across from you, nudging the open box with his foot. “We have some other surprises in here, but nothing too wild apart from the flogger. How are you feeling about it?”

Your heart skips a beat when you recall it, the satisfying whip of air as he threw it over his shoulder earlier. “I’m nervous, but I really want to try it.”

“Excellent,” he says warmly. “And the wax? We can take it slow, try it out a bit and then I’ll check back in, yeah? Just because we’ll be in the scene doesn’t mean this communication is cut off.”

You suck in a slow breath, biting your lip. Hoseok gives you time to think, waiting patiently and without expectation, but you know that you want to at least try chasing that thrill deep inside you. “I wanna give it a go too.”

Hoseok’s look of pride makes your decision feel all the more right. “That’s my girl,” he chimes, “so brave for me.” Without further notice, his eyes darken, and his smile turns less sweet and more sly. “You know Master will make it good for you, right?”

You shiver beneath the thin layer of satin and lace. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl,” he coos, “I want you to make a choice now, princess. I’ll let you choose what you wish to have first? Candles or the flogger?”

You feel slightly paralysed by the sudden decision making, brain already beginning to slow down. “Flogger please, sir.”

“So polite,” he praises, “alright, then. I want you to stand up and take that robe of yours off.”

You do so with a quickening pulse, but Hoseok doesn’t even spare a second glance at you, instead shifting the box over to the bench, pulling out… something that definitely isn’t the flogger.

Hoseok turns to you with a grin, dangling a chain on a single finger. At either end, leather cuffs twirl and bump each other, familiar to ones you’d used on the show before. Unlike the other pair, which were pretty simple and basic, this pair look beautiful enough to be a regular fashion accessory. The leather is thick but not stiff, and they’re done up with silver buckles, adjustable for size. What really catches your attention, however, is the gorgeous red trim of the softest velvet, a deep colour that makes it look unbelievably expensive. As he approaches, you notice that the insides of the cuffs are embossed with the symbol you recognised from the box. Two Rs facing away from each other, with delicately curled strokes.

“Pretty, aren’t they?” Hoseok asks rhetorically. “They’re from the dungeon, if you hadn’t already guessed. Show me your wrists.” You rush to obey, sighing when you feel cool velvet encase around your left wrist, Hoseok deftly fastening the cuff as he continues to talk. “We have a colour code for everyone that comes in our doors. All spectators wear a simple black wristband. If you’re there to play, doms get armbands and subs get cuffs. Green means free use, anyone inside those walls wearing a cuff or a armband can play with you-” he doesn’t miss the way you shudder at the concept of being totally at the mercy of a roomful of strangers, arms pulling closer to your sides defensively, “-blue means looking. You’re open to negotiation, but there needs to be a kink negotiation and mutual agreement before you begin to play.” Hoseok moves to your other wrist, making sure the cuff is snug, but not cutting off circulation. “Can you guess what red means, princess?”

You can’t bear to look away from the gorgeous cuffs that adorn your wrists. You can feel the weight of the chain that connects them as it swings below. “Taken,” you offer in an uncertain voice.

“That’s right.” Even though you aren’t looking directly at him, you can sense Hoseok’s grin. He gracefully hooks the chain on his finger, lifting it up and tugging it to watch your wrists jerk towards him. “And can you guess why I picked red for you?”

You think you know the answer. But you become overcome with the desire to hear him say it. You lift your gaze to his, shaking your head slowly. “I don’t know.”

Hoseok sees right through you, tilting his head. “I think you do,” he counters, “but I’ll happily tell you.” He yanks again, making you stumble forward into his chest. With an arm bracing you against him, Hoseok bends down to murmur in your ear. “Because you’re mine.” With the teasing slowness of a cat playing with its food, he brushes your hair back, fingertips light against the bare skin of your neck and shoulders. “Do you want to know something funny? The entire time you’ve been in there, you haven’t thought to look up.”

It happens quickly. Just as you lift your chin to seek out what he’s referring to, you feel a pull on your wrists. Hoseok’s grip on you loosens but the tug on your wrists continues until they’re stretching right up above you. The moment you set your eyes on the hook dangling from the ceiling - what looks like thick, industrial grade steel - you see the chain loop onto it and suddenly you can’t drop your arms anymore.

You tug them, a natural instinct to escape the hold, and the unforgiving way your body is stretched out makes your chest pound a little with alarm,heels only just resting on the floor. Hoseok’s hands are on you, palms hot as they smooth up and down your sides and back, soothing you. Your racing pulse starts to slow, even as your arms tremble.

“That’s better,” he remarks, tongue flicking out to lick his lips. “Would you believe that hook was there when we came?”

Your lips twitch. “Honestly? No, sir.”

He flicks you a wink, patting your ass fondly. “You would be surprised. Used to be a fixture for a chandelier. Who the fuck needs a chandelier in a bathroom?” You suppress a laugh, knowing that your nervous giggles will get the best of you if you give them a chance, but Hoseok sees that he’s managed to calm you down quite a bit, and slips back into the velvety depths of his dominant persona once again. His hand hasn’t moved from your ass, and you suck in a sharp breath through your nose as his fingers slip beneath the lace, gripping the flesh there, unable to move away from it.

“I’ve been waiting for this, you know,” he starts with a casual air, massaging your ass openly even as his eyes stay fixed on yours, monitoring your every expression, “been waiting to turn that pretty ass of yours red. Let’s take these pretty panties of yours off first.”

You relax your thighs to let the strip of fabric sneak past, and when he bares your bottom half, tucking the cream-coloured lace into his back pocket, you shiver for a different reason entirely. You feel the wetness between your thighs begin to run down now that it’s unhindered by your panties, and your nipples are stiff, begging to be touched.

Hoseok isn’t so merciful, however, and when he glances down and sees them, he flicks lightly at one with an amused chuckle. “Desperate little one, aren’t you? Now, princess, I’m going to go over to the bench and get my flogger. Are you okay here alone? I’m not leaving you; I’ll only be out of your sight for a moment.”

The tile feels so cold and unforgiving under your toes as you shift, the chain preventing you from going far. “Yes, sir,” you say, but Hoseok clearly senses your hesitance.

Eyes imploring, warm yet serious, he tips up your chin with his knuckles gently. “Do you trust me? I’ll be no more than ten seconds. How about this? In your head, chant ‘Master is a good kisser’ three times, and I’ll be back.”

Your eyes round, wetting your lips. “How would I kn-umph!” Your question is cut off prematurely as Hoseok ducks down and demonstrates; a firm, bruising kiss that’s only heightened by the bondage restricting your movements. You can’t touch him, or move closer. You just have to sit and take it, and your mind feels heady as his lips press roughly against yours, teeth tugging on your lower lip enough to sting. By the time he pulls away, you feel breathless, the tension of the cuffs the only thing keeping you on your feet.

Hoseok gently buffs you on the cheek with another wink. “Don’t forget the magic words, princess,” he chimes, “I’ll be right back.”

And, though only two weeks ago the feeling of having him out of sight and out of reach had freaked you out to the point of safewording, the tingle in your lips and that admittedly accurate mantra - Master is a good kisser - keep your mind occupied enough that before you reach the end of the third recitation, Hoseok has stepped back into your line of vision, giving you an expectant look. “Still with me?”

“Yes, sir.” You nod with it, though you can’t bring yourself to look at him, so captivated by the flogger in his hand. He holds it like a seasoned expert, which you don’t doubt he is. The handle is black braided leather, with two thicker balls on either end like a dumbbell, no doubt for ease of grip. His hand wraps around the narrower middle section, but loose enough that his fingers look relaxed around it. Though he holds the handle upright slightly, the strips of leather fall straight down in a single cascade, neatly kept together.

Observing your trained eye, Hoseok laughs and steps closer, sliding the leather over his palm to display it for you. “Shall we have a quick lesson? This here is a perfect beginner’s flogger. Perfectly balanced with a weighted handle and clean-cut leather. These strips here, they’re called falls. The less you have or the thinner they are, the more it stings like a whip would. This one has probably around 30, 35 falls. Proper garment leather. Expensive, but well-crafted.” His hand shifts, clasping around the ends, which he spreads apart with a thumb. “You see how the ends are rounded? Some falls have forked tips, pointed tips, or straight-cut ones. The pointier it is, the sharper the sensation. Rounded tips are best for a newbie like you.”

Suddenly, he drops the ends, letting them revert back to their single stream of leather spouting from the handle. The quick movement makes your eyes automatically jump up to his face, and you suck in a breath at how intense his gaze is on you. “You need to be very clear where your limits are, princess. Tell me if I’m going too hard. This is painplay, but it should still be pleasurable. Understood?”

You swallow. Now, with your body almost entirely naked, your body restrained and a very practiced dom standing in front of you with a flogger, the concept of pain is a little more concrete. But still, you trust him, and his ability to make it feel good for you. “Understood, sir.”

“Good.” Hoseok steps back, giving himself some distance as he eyes you up. With a smooth motion, his wrist begins to flick, and you instinctually recoil when the falls of the flogger start flying through the air in a graceful arc. They’re uniform in both width and length, probably just about as long as Hoseok’s arm, which stays perfectly still as he isolates the movement in his joint. Even if you weren’t in the metaphorical hot seat, this show of excellence and practiced skill would nevertheless add to the coil of arousal between your legs. He looks good like this, fully in his element. “Now,” he states, smirking at your telling reaction, “normally the best spots are the back of the shoulders, and the ass. But something tells me you’d rather see what I’m doing before letting me loose behind you. Would I be right in thinking that?”

You picture him going behind you and beginning to whip you with no context or warning. You nod your head quickly. “Yes please, sir.”

Hoseok smiles, slowing his wrist, before he begins flicking it the opposite way, the ends of the flogger curving downwards towards you instead of upwards. “Now, this flogger is a little thuddier than what I’d usually use on breasts, but since I’m only going to be very light, it’ll be just fine.”

You try to inch backwards, but the chain rattles and gives you away. “My breasts?”

Hoseok’s hand stills, his head cocking to one side as his brows come together. “Is there a problem, princess?”

His disapproval is clear, and you get the feeling that you’re treading on thin ice. But he said that communication wouldn’t stop here, so you forge ahead. “I’m not protesting, I’m just curious, sir. Why not somewhere easier like the stomach?”

Distaste wracks his features. “This isn’t going anywhere near your stomach,” he says firmly, “the organs there are unprotected. Anything vulnerable - joints, spine, the stomach and lower back, of course the head - they’re all off-limits. Do you understand that?” When he receives a nod, the line of tension in Hoseok’s shoulders relaxes. “Now, I need you to move your head back so that it’s between or behind your arms. Can you do that for me?”

Pushing your head through the gap in your upper arms, you shift until your whole face is between them, chin tilted slightly up. “May I ask why, sir?” you request in a small voice. Why did this whole thing feel so technical? And why were you still so wet from it?

“You may,” Hoseok replies bemusedly, “it just distances your face from the swings. Don’t worry-” he interjects quickly when your eyes widen in alarm, “the falls will be nowhere near your face. It’s just for our peace of mind. Do you still trust me?”

You manage to nod with your face bracketed by your arms, and with a rush of anticipation, watch Hoseok start up those quick circles, the leather whipping through the air in one bunch. Instead of stretching his arm forward, he steps in slowly, moving the falls getting closer and closer until the smooth stroke of impact flicks across your right breast.

You gasp, out of shock more than anything, but those strokes deliver a regular pattern, and it’s already lacing across your skin again, and again, an odd feeling that certainly isn’t unpleasant. There’s a distinct feeling of impact, without any real weight behind it, and the slightest hint of a sting that just serves to gradually warm the skin. Your chest is heaving, but Hoseok lands each blow with perfect accuracy, even stepping side-on between arcs and switching breasts.

The constant snap of contact helps you get used to it and calm down, and you can’t deny that it feels kind of...nice? There’s something satisfying and freeing about feeling those split second granules of pain and tolerating them, overcoming them. It doesn’t take long before you unconsciously arch your spine, seeking out something more than just light swats from the very tips of the falls.

Hoseok notices the moment you move and, frustratingly, he stops with a chuckle. “Did that turn you on, princess? Do you want more?”

You whine, tipping your head back further so he disappears out of your sight. Against the skin of your inner arms, your cheeks are raging hot. “Yes,” you admit in a defeated voice when he refuses to move on.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir?” you quip with a hopeful tone.

“Nice try,” Hoseok replies flatly, “I want you to say it, princess. Yes, what?”

You bite your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. There’s only silence. The heat has already left your breasts, and they feel strange without that lick of leather on them. “I want more, please, sir.”

“Good girl,” Hoseok coos, and in reward you feel the now-welcome flick of the falls on your breasts. This time, however, he stands directly across from you and twists his wrist over, casting figure eights, alternating left and right. You tremble at the feeling, squirming under it. Though it’s still light, every strike feels even more intense on your nipples, shooting sensation right between your legs.

“Sir,” you gasp out, “I w-want some more, sir.”

Hoseok answers without faltering, and his voice easily carries over the sound of the flogger. “Oh, do you? I can’t go any harder on these pretty little tits of yours, princess.” He pulls away, ceasing the motion. “If you want to continue, I’m going to have to go behind you. Are you okay with that?”

You push your reddened chest forward to no avail. “Fuck! Hoseok, yes, I’m okay with it,” you whine, unable to resolve any of the need in your core, needing more. Hoseok clicks his tongue in disapproval, and you curse internally at the slip. “Sir! Sorry, I’m okay with it, sir.”

“You better not forget your manners,” Hoseok warns, taking one step at a time, boots thudding on the tile as he circles you. “I’m flogging you for pleasure, because I like to treat and train you, but if you do that again, I can easily turn this into a punishment.”

The thought makes you moan, and your wrist jerks as you fruitlessly try to cover your mouth. Actually relieved he’s behind you for once, you let your head duck forward, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckles. “It seems like you’re more of a painslut than you realise, princess,” he teases, and you’re given no warning before you feel a strike against your ass, making you jump with a yelp. Though it’s the same light figure eights as just before, these ones whip up from the bottom, so that every hit lands on the meat of your ass, avoiding your lower back. If the ones before were easy, these feel like child’s play. Whether you’ve gotten more used to the sensation, or the skin on your ass just isn’t as sensitive, you find yourself immediately wanting more, trying to lean back into it.

The dom isn’t pleased. “Did I say you could move?”

You don’t answer, hands reaching up to grip the chains that bind them as you bite down harshly on your tongue. “I can take more, sir,” you begin, but Hoseok cuts you off with a gruff noise of disapproval.

“Did I say you could move?” he repeats sharply.

You whine low in your throat. “No, sir,” you admit, “but I can-” You yelp and flinch when a single swat hits below the swell of your ass, across your thighs. It feels different there, stingier and less hazily pleasant. “I’m sorry-”

“That’s right, I didn’t,” Hoseok’s voice comes from behind you, cold and unforgiving. “In fact, I hung you up here to keep you still for me, so that I could play with you as I wished. If you insist on defying that, I’ll quite happily fetch a spreader bar so that you can’t move an inch.”

You furrow your brows, hating the feeling of making him mad. Hating even more that the sharpness in his tone and the filthy word he says just make you even needier, tightening your thighs together. “I’m sorry, sir, I’ll behave,” you mumble shamefully.

You jump slightly when you feel something on your ass again, but it’s just his hand, cupping the flesh. “I’m doing this to warm you up. For your own safety. I’ve been doing this for years, princess, don’t forget that Master knows best.”

“Master knows best,” you repeat mindlessly, feeling yourself begin to slip. It’s a comforting thought just as much as it is an arousing one; Master knows what he’s doing, and all you need to do is take it.

“Exactly.” Hoseok sounds pleased, and just as your heart lifts in relief, the hits resume.

Eyes slipping closed, you let yourself tune everything else out. When you focus, when you really actively feel it, you can recognise every shift in his posture, or change in angle by how it feels on your skin. The strips of leather lash up, gradually causing the skin to heat up as the thuddy feeling stays longer and longer after each strike.

Before he ups the intensity, he simply speeds up his strokes, and you let out a pleased whine as the constant ebb and flow of pleasure-softened pain lull you deeper. The more you take, the less it hurts at all, even as the skin on your ass feels like it’s radiating heat.

The warmth floods to the rest of your body until even your toes aren’t cold against the tile. You feel like you could stand here forever, strung up and lost in the sensations he’s giving you. In fact, those dull edges of pain are so soothing that it feels almost therapeutic, worries and aches melting away, irrelevant in this space.

Hoseok finally deems your skin is sufficiently warmed up, and you whimper when the hits shift. Instead of friendly, playful flicks of leather, every strike echoes in the room, the thud of impact delivering a bolder note of pain.

Not that it’s bad, though. On the contrary, if the earlier flogging was lulling you into a sleepy bliss, these ones wake you up like a burst of energy with every swing. Without even realising, a dopey grin stretches your cheeks, and you find yourself no longer trying to muffle the pleased sighs that stutter out with every flick of Hoseok’s wrist.

“Fuck, look at you,” the dom croons, “a painslut indeed. You’re dripping onto the tiles, naughty girl.”

You moan openly, knuckles aching with how tightly you’re gripping the chains that hook your cuffs to the steel loop above. Your pussy aches with the need to be touched, but to do that Hoseok would have to stop whipping you, and your mind hisses at the thought. All you want is more, you can take more, you want to show him, to show yourself you can take more. Every burst of pain on your flesh is another victory, and it feels euphoric.

You stay in this headspace for a while as Hoseok maintains the same, regular hits. Eventually, the scream for more overwhelms you, and you seek out something more intense the quickest way you know how - disobedience. “Hoseokie,” you whine, “hit me harder.”

You could sob when his hand freezes, the next strike coming down without any bite, just a loose draping of the leather falls. As they linger on the skin, you realise just how sensitive and raw it’s gotten, feeling every edge of leather in sharper clarity. Hoseok holds it there for a moment, then drops, the silence in the room palpable. “Are you giving me orders? And without the proper title, no less.”

Pain bursts across your skin like a line of fire, the sharpest and strongest hit yet. Like the one across your thighs, this comes at an angle instead of the upstrokes of his circles or figure eights. You can imagine him holding it back, and whipping it down with a single, swift flick. The residue heat on your ass just makes you want another.

Instead of another hit, however, you cry out when you feel nails digging into the flesh, not scraping, just groping the globes of your ass in each hand. You can even feel the stiff leather of the handle pressing into your flesh on one side, and you whine at the sensation.

“I know what you want, princess,” Hoseok growls, his voice startlingly close as his breath wafts hot on the back of your neck. “And if painplay was the purpose of the scene, perhaps I’d whip you until you cried like you deserve.”

You sob. “Master, please-”

“It’s too late for that,” he cuts off sharply. “The time for begging is over. You’ve disappointed me. I was going to lift up your legs and fuck you right here, but you’ve showed me that you don’t deserve that yet.”

Unprecedented, your eyes brim with tears. Hoseok slips back into your line of sight, face stern as he tucks the handle of the flogger in his belt at the back, and reaches up to unhook you. Your legs are weak, but he carries your weight with ease, letting the chain dangle around the back of his neck as he walks you over to the bench.

Instead of propping you up on it, or sitting you on a chair, he helps you lie down on the cool tile, an immediate balm for the deep-set heat radiating from your ass. Even as his face is stiff with disapproval, he handles you so gently, ensuring you don’t knock your head on the way down.

“Just stay here a moment,” he murmurs, brushing your hair out of your eyes, “calm down a little bit. I have some candles to light.”

You feel strangely floaty, your emotions all over the place, but Master had asked you to calm down, so you try your best to settle them. It’s not a bad sensation once you relax a bit. Need burns fiercely between your thighs, but the last thing you want to do is upset him by breaking the rules, so you simply let your eyes slip closed and your thighs clench together. You’ll wait until Hoseok comes back to you, and then you’ll make things right by being extra good. The thought of pleasing him makes you smile, and when Hoseok’s voice wraps around you, checking that you’re still with him, it’s only too easy to chirp a contented, “yes, sir.”

When he returns, he’s slipping one hand under your head and the other behind your back, lifting you ever-so-slowly so that your head doesn’t spin. Once you’re up, you lean forward and cling to him, wanting nothing more than to be close. Hoseok lazily cards his fingers through your hair. “You’ve misbehaved,” he states slowly, “you haven’t earned an orgasm, princess, but I’m soft on you. I’ll give you the chance to win one, how about that?”

You blink dazedly, feeling clarity begin to seep back in. “Win?”

Pulling back, Hoseok smirks down at you. “We’re going to play a little game, you and I. Come; I want you on your hands and knees.”

Hoseok guides you over, though you’ve mostly gotten your strength back. On the floor, near the box, are two lit pillar candles. The flames dance cheerily, leaving behind wells of molten wax. One is the red candle you’d inspected earlier, and the other is a pure white, the wax melting clear. You prop yourself up on your hands and knees beside it, but the dom quickly corrects you, leading you to instead assume the position over the box, which almost reaches your stomach.

Upon receiving your questioning look, Hoseok rubs one hand over your reddened ass cheeks, soothing the flesh. “I don’t want you losing your balance and creating a large angle,” he explains shortly, “the wax could drip forward into your hair or, worse, drip back where I’m sure you don’t want it.”

You shudder at the thought, your pulse steadily quickening as the reality of what he’s about to do sets in. This feels even more unfamiliar and alien than the flogging did at the beginning, but you feel safe beneath his touch.

Hoseok gets on his knees behind you, and you could cry in relief when you hear a belt buckle clink, and then a zip lower. It takes no time at all for you to feel the blunt head of Hoseok’s cock pressing against your entrance until it begins to sink in.

You moan, arching your back enough that you fee the texture of cardboard on your stomach. After only receiving external stimulation - pain, nonetheless - until now, suddenly being speared on his tongue has you speechless, tongue heavy in your mouth and drool pooling in your cheeks.

“Feel good, princess?” Hoseok questions, giving your raw ass a playful swat when you cry out the affirmative. “I bet it does.” But when he bottoms out, leaving you deliciously full, he remains perfectly still. “Sadly, that’s all you’ll get for now. Do you want to hear the rules of the game?”

You sob lowly in your throat, elbows almost buckling as your walls clench around the unmoving intrusion. “Please, sir.”

“I’m going to write a word on you, princess. A special word. But it just so happens that I don’t have a pen on me, so I’ll use this wax instead.” The glimpses of red and white blink out of your peripheral as Hoseok drags them closer to himself. “You can guess each letter, and if you manage to get the word right once I’m finished, then I’ll let you cum. Does that sound fair?” Your reply is garbled, incoherent, but Hoseok doesn’t seem bothered. “Then let’s begin. Pay close attention, now.”

Your body naturally tenses up, eyes squeezed shut as you wait for a burst of pain, of searing heat. When something touches your skin, you automatically cry out, but quickly realise that it doesn’t hurt at all, instead, it’s like viscous warm water that slowly stiffens on your skin as it cools. The tightness in your chest loosens.

“That was a test patch, princess,” Hoseok says in a calm voice, devoid from his usual dom smugness. “Too hot? Not hot enough?”

You swallow. “It wasn’t hot,” you admit, “it’s not bad.”

“Understood,” he confirms, squeezing your hip in reassurance as you clench again around him, but the safety monitor Hoseok quickly takes a backseat to the Master persona. “First letter, princess. I’ll only do each one once.”

This time, when lines of warmth bloom on your back, concentrated in the top corner by your shoulder blade, you focus your mind on picturing the shapes they create. Something straight, then a small loop. The wax isn’t painful; on the contrary, it doesn’t feel hot when it first makes contact. As it sits, the skin heats up, but before it gets too warm, the wax has already cooled to mostly solid. Your fears melt away fully, and you tune back into the game. “D?” you guess.

“Close,” he allows.

You rack your mind. “P?”

You moan when Hoseok’s cock suddenly moves inside you, pulling out slowly and giving you a single, snapped thrust. “Correct,” he confirms, “next letter.”

This one feels similar, starting with the same straight line, slightly to the right of where the first patch fell. A straight line, something wobbly again with a line to end it. Your breath catches. “R? Is the word ‘princess?’”

“Guessing so soon,” Hoseok chimes, humour lacing his voice, “but wrong on both counts. It’s a vowel.”

You go down the list, comparing them against the already-fading memory of thick warmth on your skin. “E- no, A?”

“A is correct. This one’s easy.” After fucking into you once another time, he does a single stroke that you easily identify as an I, and then you hear the thud as he puts down one candle and picks up the other. “Let’s see how you look in red, princess. Next letter.”

It gets harder and harder to correctly name the letters as you go on. With every right answer, you’re rewarded with a second of pleasure before it ceases, and that paired with the arousing feeling of warm wax drizzling over your skin just has you feeling hazy. It takes you whole minutes to guess N, but lucky it’s followed by simple strokes of S, L, and U.

By the time he’s switched wax a couple times and is readying you for the last letter, you already know the word. But Hoseok drops the wax from a little lower every time, and you relish the heat more and more with each letter, and you’ll take whatever else you can get.

At this point, the only space left on you is low on your back, just in from your waist. You squeeze your eyes shut, already knowing that he’s going to paint two strokes: one horizontal and one vertical. So instead, you allow yourself to just feel it for what it is.

He tips the pillar candle - red or white, you’ve long since lost track - and you moan openly as you feel fluidity, then heat, which crests and settles into a seal of solid wax. Hoseok wastes no time before completing the letter, one longer line going down in a thick trail that threatens to drip down your side.

“‘s T,” you slur out before he can even ask, tightening your walls around him as he snaps his hips a single time so that you can feel every inch of him. Even the sound of the one movement is obscene; you’re so wet that it runs down your thighs and soaks his cock, but Hoseok’s not complaining.

Instead, you whine as you feel his nails on your shoulder, dislodging the fully hardened wax from the beginning. It’s a strange sensation, there’s a minute suction to breaking that seal, but it lifts off so smoothly when he’s careful like that. “And can you tell me the word, princess? I picked it out just for you.”

Sighing out, you nod shakily. “Painslut,” you gasp.

“That’s right,” Hoseok replies warmly, even as his nails curl and drag down rough enough to crumble the wax in his path, leaving stinging lines over your skin. “You’re my little painslut, aren’t you? Say it, and I’ll give you your reward.”

“I’m your little painslut,” you moan out, back arching under the relentless way he dislodges slivers of dried wax, exposing the sensitive skin beneath.

Without further preface, Hoseok bends over to quickly blow out the two candles, shift them further away, and then straightens up to grip your hips with hands slightly slippery from the soy.

When he begins fucking into you properly, with the full force of his powerful hips, you’re pushed forward onto the cardboard box, a cry punched from your throat. He doesn’t wait this time, just as steady and unforgiving as the circles his flogger made earlier.

You feel the weight of his balls slapping against you, his hip bones pressing into your sensitive ass, and his nails dig in sharply to give you that delicious pain that had become just as potent as pleasure. You feel him inside you, too; mercilessly parting your walls and stretching you around him until it feels like you can’t breathe.

Your mouth spills a constant stream of garbled moans and pleas, doing your best to fuck yourself back on him to feel him deeper. “Fuck, Master, I’m so close,” you manage to make out, “can I cum, sir?”

Hoseok growls deep in his throat, and you squeal helplessly as his pace picks up until you can’t even stop yourself from drooling onto the tile, jerked about within his grip. “Cum for me, princess,” he commands, “cum on my cock now.”

In your body’s final effort to please your Master, your orgasm follows only a few thrusts later, and you go limp and shivery against the support of the cardboard box, clinging to it as Hoseok chases his own high.

Having cum from g-spot stimulation alone, the orgasm seems to reach as deep as your bones, and you ride the wave longer. By the time you’re finally beginning to come down, pleasure slowly turning to oversensitivity, Hoseok’s thrusts are stuttering, and he’s suddenly pulling out of you, grunting as a different kind of heat spurts over your back.

You’re panting, hugging the box you’re curled over as you feel Hoseok’s cum run down the divot of your spine, slowly cooling. You can still feel the dry flakes of wax that cling to you, and even as Hoseok gently helps you off the solid tile floor, you see shavings and slivers of red and white falling to the ground.

Hoseok’s dropped the Master persona entirely by now, and you hum happily as he checks you over, fingertips running across the skin of your back and ass. “No pain still persisting?”

“Well, my ass still kinda stings,” you admit, “but nothing seriously painful, no.”

He furrows his brows in concern as he straightens up in front of you. “And the wax was okay?”

You smile shyly and a little dopily, still coasting on the endorphins the pain and temperature play had released. “I’m probably going to go to Sejin and get him to change it to a definite interest, actually. It was great, Hoseok. You were great. Thank you.”

Hoseok’s eyes warm as he fondly buffs you on the underside of your chin. “Well; I say we have a nice shower and clean you up, and then we can go into the kitchen for some ice cream. Get your sugar levels back up, how about that?”

You could laugh, but you feel too blissed out to even exert that much energy. “I’m not sure there’s any ice cream left, actually.”

FAN FAVOURITE

On the sixth Day of every Week in the game, the Audience Fan Favourite vote is released for 48 hours following the post of the fic. Please note, this is NOT the elimination vote, which is taken on the seventh Day of each Week.

Please vote for your favourite member in the house according to Week Three only. Vote here. You need to sign in to prevent spamming, but I delete the survey after the 48 hours is up. All I take note of is the pie chart at the end. I’m very excited to see what the results will be !

And so we meet our fourth guest... Confused? Check bonus content four, five and six for the other three teasers ;)

[ackermans-freedom-inc]

Masterlist

Heya! Thank you for visiting! I will post all of my writings here, so please feel free to browse at your leisure. 

If you want to send in a request, please feel free to do so, unless my blog description says requests are closed. If they are indeed closed and you wish to send something in anyway, you are very welcome to do so! I may or may not get to it though I will try my best. 

__________________________________________

Levi Ackerman 

Fics

Train Pt 1 

All My Choices - “All my choices lead to you” prompt

Hot and Cold - He would compliment you one moment, and hurt you the next

Just a Drink - Someone came to hit on you at the bar...

Nothing More - You and him were friends with benefits...and nothing more? NSFW

Remember - You succumb to the thoughts in your head, and he’s there to remind you

Monster - “Why do you have to make me into a monster?” prompt

Snow - You get lost in blizzard and Levi is worried sick

By Your Side - What happens when your cheesy pickup line loving self gets paired with a handsome bodyguard?

Education - You are a poc, and somehow the world will not leave you alone

Counting the Days - Levi just wants to do the do, but his son gets in the way. NSFW

Bows - “I just wanted to be pretty for you” 

Carry a Tune - (LawyerAU) Levi gets jealous.

Never - He broke up with you out of the blue

Alleged Allergies - (LawyerAU) Levi and your cat adoption adventures

Fish - You’re feeding your baby and Levi couldn’t be more supportive

What More Could You Ask For - You and Levi with your kids on a beautiful morning

I Miss Her Too - Your best friend was gone. How could you ever heal?

Tease - (LawyerAU) You have to entertain an important client for the firm...your boyfriend is NOT pleased

Pep Talk - Hanji’s messy cat comes over to meet your cat...what could go wrong?

Next to You - He opens his eyes, and sees you, fast asleep.

Never Expected - He breaks up with you, but you loved him so much. So why?

For the Night - You met his eyes from across the club. Memories that weren't your own swirled in your head. One night of passion ensued. NSFW

Treading Water - You fall into the water after a titan attack. You can’t swim.

Poopyhead - You and Levi’s darling son goes missing one day

The Sham - You were arranged to married to Levi. It was a sham. 

Your Touch - Levi was so so stressed, so you do what you can to help him

Uprising - You loved him so much, but the moment never seemed right

Someone You Loved - He watched as you fell out of love with him

I Wish - Him and you were over months ago. What more could he have to say?

You Weren’t There - You were missing in action for weeks. No way you were still alive. Right?

Mergers and Accusations - (Lawyer AU) Your boyfriend couldn't have leaked your confidential files...could he? 

The Mop Job - Levi, Isabel, and Farlan and Levi’s broken ankle 

Where You Belong - You and Levi were expecting. So what happens when one of you loses their memory?

A Matter of Time - It was only a matter of time before one of you caught feelings

Hold On - There was nothing you wouldn’t do for your sister...who also happened to be Levi’s girlfriend.

Dibs - You sought out Levi for comfort after a breakup

Mirrors - You felt insecure in your body. Levi comforts you

Pumpkin - You tell Levi you’re pregnant against a gorgeous fall background

His Touch - You have a phobia of intimacy, and you thought you were ready to try something new

You Never Liked Her - You stood by Levi through it all. What about your own feelings?

Stressed - You were so stressed over exams, and Levi helps you out

Pet - You were a high ranking demon. And then you met him

Treading Water 2 - he was so glad to have you back and he wanted to show you (tiny bit spicy)

About Damn Time - the other vets act as ScoutWingmen because you and Levi were taking too long

Pointe - Levi finds you alone in the mess hall in the middle of the night. Dancing?

Zoom - the 104th kiddos see a cat...in two zoom calls?

How Many Times? - how many times does Levi have to ask you to be his?

Diamonds - (MafiaAU) Fluff/angst

Just a Trim - haircut with Levi drabble

Whirlybird - domestic drabble

Moot - LawyerAU, nsfw | watching Levi demolish opposing counsel made you feel a certain way...

Headcanons

- Levi’s Ideal s/o - kinda turned imagine/scenario, some nsfw

- Levi with a Med&Science s/o

- Levi with s/o with eating disorder  - tw eating disorder mention

- Levi with a s/o who has a fear of intimacy

- Levi with a s/o who cries after sex - mention of past trauma, fluff, kinda nsfw

- Levi with a s/o who is RIPPED 

- Cheater!Levi with a badass s/o

- Cheater!Levi with a badass s/o PT2 

- Levi when his s/o has a miscarriage (tw) 

- Levi with a smaller male s/o

- Levi with a s/o with narcolepsy 

- Levi with a smaller bratty male sub! s/o NSFW

- Awkward sub!Levi in a relationship - SFW, fluffy af

- Levi when he meets another full Asian girl

- Levi slow dancing with you

- Levi with a dom!male reader

- Levi with a s/o who looks like an angel but is kinda the devil

- Levi with a s/o who likes to laugh/tell jokes

THIRSTY THURSDAYS - NSFW AF Y’ALL. 18+!!!!!!!!

#1  - oral reader receiving | You just wanted to try sitting on his face...

#2 - first time, smut, choking kink | You waited for him to be your first

#3 - Sub!Levi, tied up, slapping | He wanted to prove he could take orders

#4 - Dom!Levi, jealous/possessive, edging | You spent time with Erwin?

#5 - Waxplay, sensation play, edging, dom-ish Levi | You wanted to try this...

#6 - Omegaverse, ModernAU | Your heat was coming and the sauna helped

#7 - Dirty talk, modern AU | You just wanted to watch the dang movie

#8 - Pegging, prostate stimulation, sub!Levi | You wanted to try something...

#9 - public sex, oral, dirty talk | A fun time in the waterpark changeroom

#10 - dirty talk, sex, modernAU | You wanted him to do more than just your taxes

#11 - bathtub sex | Levi saw you training cadets...and oops you’re hot

#12 - Modern AU, dirty talk, name calling, domlevi | You were worried Levi wasn't enjoying himself

#13 - hurt/comfort, comfort sex, fluff | After the [redacted] Levi was worried you were avoiding him 

#14 - jealous/possessive dom!Levi, rough sex, choking, slapping | You got a little carried away squealing over your favourite actor...

#15 - MIKE X READER - daddy kink, size kink | no plot just fucking Mike while calling him daddy

#16 - oral female receiving | He was too busy to give you attention...

#17 - older!reader (31) x Levi (25). No kinks just sex | it had been so long since you were with someone...then you met him

#18 - public-ish sex | you and him were friends with benefits for years. But one day, beneath the stars and against the wall...

#19 - oral, slight voyeurism | you, in a dress. Him under the table...what could go wrong?

#20 - oral, vaginal sex, slight voyeurism | you and levi get walked in on

#21 - touchstarved Levi | just sex no kinks, fluffy

#22 - Eren x Reader, modern AU, soft + sweet, no kinks, fluff

Multi - Chaptered

Abeille: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Not Levi 

Sneakers - Annie x fem!reader - Annie goes to the mall to get a pair of sneakers...what she didnt expect to find was you 

She - Mikasa x fem!reader - You just loved her so much. But she...

[electricshoebox]

writing tag

Tagged by the lovely @adventuresofmeghatron, thank you!

Tagging: @junemermaid, @molliehaswords, @desynchimminent, @valkyriejack, and @mercurymiscellany​, if you’d like to do it!

1.  How many works do you have on AO3? 

39. Holy shit. 

2.  What’s your total AO3 word count?

533,274 words. Holy shit.

3. What are you top 5 fics by kudos?

How to Share a Bed Without Killing Each Other: a Love Story (Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dorian/Iron Bull, 5 Chapters, Complete) The trials and tribulations of literally sleeping together.

Rivers in the Sand (Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dorian/Iron Bull, Oneshot, Complete) The Hissing Wastes unsettles Bull’s memories, and when he and Dorian are trapped together by a fallen pillar, Dorian helps him deal.

a soft place to land (Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dorian/Iron Bull, Oneshot, Complete) When a letter from his father sets him off, Dorian turns to Bull for a distraction.

Always Good at Bad Ideas  (Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dorian/Iron Bull, Oneshot, Complete) Bull gets injured fighting a dragon, which leaves Dorian frantic enough to blurt out the one thing he was trying to keep to himself.

Flashpoint (Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dorian/Iron Bull, Oneshot, Complete) “One time he got so excited he set the curtains on fire.”

4. Do you respond to comments?  Why or why not? 

Yes, always! I’ve seen various opinions on whether authors should, but to me, engaging with and getting excited with readers is half the fun and half the point. I also just really want people to know how much it means to me not only that they read, but that they take the time to leave a comment. Comments are hard to write. I completely sympathize with that, sometimes you just don’t know what to say or how to say it, and I absolutely don’t begrudge anyone that doesn’t. It just means a lot to me when people do, even when it’s literally just “This was cool!” or something, and I want them to know that it’s appreciated!

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hmmm. I guess that sort of depends on your definition of angsty. None of them have directly tragic endings, it’s just not in me to write that way, but I have one or two with open or less definitely, obviously happy endings. The rarepair DA2 oneshot I wrote for Merrill/Orana, Counting the Cost, has the most open ending, left completely up to interpretation. The Inception AU DAI fic I wrote for Dorian/Bull, In the Shadow of Dreams, has what I think of as an optimistic ending, and less a happy one. I tried to end that one with more romance, but it just didn’t fit the tone of the rest of the fic, so a quiet ending that signals a road to recovery was what I chose instead.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Most all of my oneshots have pretty happy endings. I guess I’m tempted say A Line in the Sand, my Deacon/MacCready start-from-scratch slow burn novel, just because it goes from antagonists to lovers and has the longest road with the most earned happy ending. I feel like the long struggle to get there makes it feel happier. 

7. Do you write crossovers?  If so, what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not really. Instead I’m sometimes tempted into AUs based on other media, but not full blown crossovers with actual different characters meeting. Even then, I’m really picky in what I enjoy. I’ve only written one, the Inception AU for Dragon Age that I mentioned above. Honestly, it requires no knowledge of Inception at all. I really just stole a bunch of concepts from it and then made my own modernized Thedas around them.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Thankfully no! I’ve received one or two kind of odd comments, but otherwise I’ve been very lucky and everyone’s been really nice.

9.  Do you write smut?  If so, what kind?

Hell yeah! I’ve written many kinds, really, whatever I feel like or whatever fits the fic. I’ve done plenty of your typical smut. I branched out into light BDSM with several of my Dorian/Bull fics, as well as waxplay and praise kink. I’ve also done some roleplay in the vein of “established relationship pretending to be strangers meeting at a bar” for Deacon/MacCready with By Any Other Name.

10.  Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. 

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I have! Two of my Dorian/Bull fics, Wishing Stars and No Patron Saint of Silent Restraint, both by the same lovely person: landanding on AO3. I don’t think I stopped flailing for a solid day when I got the request for permission either time.

12.  Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not since pre-AO3 days, beyond collaborating in a tabletop setting. I’m not completely opposed to the idea but it would have to be someone I felt really, really comfortable with and with whom I have really good communication. I’m really particular about my writing, and I’d need to know someone’s emotional comfort level with trading and changing and even eliminating ideas.

13.  What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Oh god that’s honestly really hard. I’ve written the most for Dorian/Bull and that ship will always have a special place in my heart. But I did write my first full-length novel for Deacon/MacCready, and they’ve already got me in the middle of my second. So they’re the ship that taught me I could do that, and they’re my beloved rarepair. There are a few more I absolutely love, but I think those are my top two right now.

14.  What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Definitely Uprising. It was the first time I tried longform fic, and it was meant to be an entire retelling of DA2 with Velanna as the Justice-bearing character, rather than Anders, because after learning the developers almost took DA2 in that direction, I couldn’t get it out of my head. I had a lot of plans for it, for how Justice might develop differently, for what it might have looked like if elves had been more of the battleground issue instead of mages vs. templars, for some angsty bittersweet long distance Nathaniel/Velanna and some complicated Fenris/Hawke and Merrill/Orana. But I drifted away from Dragon Age fandom in interest a long time ago, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get the steam back for it. I’m proud of how far I did get, though.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I feel pretty confident with dialogue, I can usually make a scene flow with it pretty well and I spend a lot of time trying to be meticulous about character voice. I’ve gotten a lot of positive feedback on my descriptions, which I appreciate and wouldn’t have considered a strength, but my readers have been kind. I think I’m pretty good at including body language, too, though maybe to a fault.

16.  What are you writing weaknesses?

Much as people have been kind on the feedback, I really feel like action scenes are a weakness for me. I don’t enjoy writing them and I struggle a lot to make them feel like they’re flowing over just bulletpointing. I also feel like I struggle to make them exciting. I feel like I struggle with exposition scenes as well, and keeping them interesting over info-dumping. 

17.  What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’m generally in favor of including them, but with the caution of doing thorough research if it’s not a language I speak. I shy away from it if I can’t be completely sure it’s accurate, because I don’t want to risk putting off a native speaker reader, or saying/doing something offensive. I’d expand that to include anything about another culture, really. For example, I’ve been slowly picking away at writing a Fallout fic for my Sole Survivor Anthony and Preston, and part of what has been slow going is just making sure I’m getting Anthony’s culture right. His parents immigrated from Vietnam, and I want his experiences with them and with his culture to be as accurate and respectful as possible, not falling into any stereotypes but also being allowed to be complicated. 

18.  What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Depends on what we’re measuring. The first fandom I ever wrote fic for of any kind was Sailor Moon. The first fandom I actually put fic on the internet for was Lord of the Rings, on good old fanfiction.net. The first fandom I published on AO3 for was Dragon Age.

19.  What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

God this is such a hard question to answer, my feelings on my writing change so often. I think it’s hard for A Line in the Sand not to be my favorite for the reasons I’ve already mentioned, it’s my first successful novel-length fic, I accomplished a lot with it and learned a lot from it, and it’s a rarepair I got to kind of develop from scratch in my own way. 

But if I look back at my whole repertoire so far, just to branch out from the usual answer, I’d say I’m also really fond of To Have and to Hold, which was the first time I ever participated in a minibang, or really any kind of writing challenge. It’s a Dorian/Bull established relationship fic set during Trespasser, and it’s kind of a meditation on Dorian’s past and present and how they’ve shaped his feelings on love and commitment and marriage, all while he’s trying to decide his future. I’m proud of how it came out, and I think my Dorian voice still holds up okay. Plus I had two incredible artists working with me who put together stunning work for it, and how could I not be super grateful for that? 

It’s funny, most of the top ones up there for kudos are ones that I don’t personally think are my best, it’s a lot of my very early offerings for Dorian/Bull that I think I could improve on a lot of if I tackled them now. I’m grateful people like them but I feel like they’re more an accident of timing, being published early in the ship’s popularity.