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muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

Note

Soft dom harry makes subby reader upset subspace?

MEANIE ANGRY H :D BUCKLE UP FELLAS

Y/N's day is been shitty so far. It started with an ache in her lower abdomen from Harry’s morning stiffy bulging against her asscheeks fattening everytime he snuggled into her to hoard her warmth and blankies and to stuff his face in her neck with incoherent blabbering.

She wanted to wake him up with her hand, mouth, hole— anything around his cock and to please him and dull the burny feeling in her tummy -- but -- she had an important workshop at UNI that was must needed to be attended.

The time she managed to knock herself out of her needy and lusty headspace, she was getting late and whirling around the room and closest like a thunderstorm -- burying a snoring Harry under the heaps of clothes and littering the floor with her shoes collection, the kitchen got treated much more worst with maids being not around (she’s used to Harry waking up earlier than her and making her a full course brekkie) after making a laughable ruckus of cabinets all she stuffed her mouth with was a chocolate protein bar.

The stars were still not in her favour. She was grabbing onto her hair until far when she missed the bus (she usually don’t take buses, Harry makes sure the driver drop her off safe and secure) and it started raining leaving Y/N with nothing but a bare head to take all of it as she already left the bus shelter to stop a taxi.

If all of that wasn’t much of a tragedy and humiliating, Y/N slipped the moment she stepped out of the vehicle and on the slippery curbs of the building, she saw her life flashing right infront of her eyes as the papers tucked in her armpit fled everywhere and landed on the rainy mud sadistically along her. It gave her a serious hit in her ankle and completely yanked her hip, still being a stubborn-head she picked herself and went inside despite how many glares the cleaning staff threw her way for bringing the dirt with her feed all over the shiny floors.

She felt bad.

Stupidly bad.

Her workshop teachers were kind enough to accept her late arrival, but her designs for fall got rejected and they’d have been a huge milestone for her to get her dream internship.

Y/N felt awfully, teeny, pathetic and little while slumping into the corner of the bus and holding her breath to refrain from crying these little liquidy bitches out of her eyes.

Reaching back home she was met with pure chaos, bumping into petrified and agitated employs from Harry’s company scurrying out of their main foyer and she could persist but to ask what happened only to be informed in stammers that the staff messed up big and caused a loss of million dollars— making Harry terribly mad and fire people left and right.

It wasn’t a joke at all.

Because once, she steps inside, bag falling from her shoulder as she sighs in exhaustion feeling her muscles stiffening everywhere but one particular spot's hurting wrenchingly— her foggy mind couldn’t figure it out yet. She peeks into Harry’s home office to be met by a very annoyed, aggrieved, furious Harry pacing in his office all whilst with a phone against his ear shouting at someone who was destined to be humiliated today just like her and she pouts gingerly seeing his features skewered tightly into displeasure, the vein that curves along his temple prominent with blood pumping erratically in his body.

His head snaps up at the door’s creak and albeit his eyes softens a little, the kink of brows and the scowl on his lips is still there and he watches her paddle towards him carefully knowing anything at the moment would burst his chimneys out and she wants to be good for her daddy.

“Hi.” She speaks timidly, pout getting more rusty when the greetings not returned and instead he keeps all of his attention on the phone keeping a loose arm around her.

She grumbles, when he gestures down at her to give him a sec and untangles himself from her walking away and huffing and puffing into the phone.

How could he!

She feels so denied and rejected and kicked like it’s done to those affection starved lil puppies.

Her clingy tendencies flying high drunk and wooly. The needy beastie inside her wanting nothing more than take a bath where Harry could cream her back in her favourite berry bubbles, massaging her head and whisper sweet nothings into her ear, then lots and lots of cuddles, maybe he'll be generous enough and let her keep him snug inside her while they watch movie because she had such an awful day.

But, No! He's trying to escape free from her because she’s such a burden for him now.

Her eyes turns glassy, her shoulders slumping sadly and out of nowhere she’s feeling cold and barren as Harry’s voice becomes a wafting fume for her— an indication she has gone under too much.

“Daddy . . .” She stomps behind him, circling his footsteps like a whiny puppy and grapples at his dress shirt gasping sullenly when he swats her dainty hands away and glares down at her in dominance, his tone harsh as he blocks the receiver with his palm and mouths at her with a huff, “Stop being needy fo’ once. I’ve clearly some important issues to care for, Y/N.” Poor Y/N's deathly grip on his shirt loosens sorrowfully and her chin wobbles as she nodded still wanting to be good for him and if it wasn’t enough to give her the biggest heartbreak of the year— he even rolled his eyes at her too grumping under his breath about something how he turned her into a spoiled brat himself.

“Okie. . .” Her voice strangled and small. She shrinks into herself but wasn’t paid any heed from Harry and without another word she leaves him as to be it.

Having a huge breakdown in her room didn’t help at all. A painful headache hitting her like a train as she clumsily strips down, wearing one of his t-shirt heavily drenched in his scent he keeps for her under her pillow anytime she needs it and hides under the blankets with tears still running down her swollen cheeks— slipping into a light slumber from all of weariness and crying.

Once the smoke cleared from Harry’s mind and his capabilities of rational thinking coming back to him, he was reminded of how he denied his baby of his littlest of affection and tenderness when she clearly looked so glum and sad and upset.

He wanted to whip himself in head.

He’s such a twat that he let work come between them.

He curses himself. Making a sprint to his bedroom, knowing he’d find her none other than there and he was right puffing out a disheartened sigh when his eyes falls over his princess buried under all of these layers of blankets, he crawls up towards her carefully not to startle her awake.

Grunting at himself when he finds she’s been crying, he strokes a thumb up her blushy cheeks and her wet lashes, kissing her puffy eyelids and her little sad unhappy pout away.

He frowns. Feeling her feverish and flushed under his hand, “Hey puppy . . .” He thumbs down her throat getting a little fretful when she doesn’t stirs, however she’s such a squirmy little one and he moves the blankets away to let her body cool itself smiling proudly at his shirt swallowing her whole is when she snuggled herself more into her stuffie letting the shirt ride up her thighs and hips exposing a ghastly bruise of red and purples and he frowns not remembering it being there before.

Now. He feels shittier. Wanting to jump of the cliff for being a shitty sadist boyfriend to his only beloved.

��No!” Y/N whimpers loudly, squirming away from his touch as he examines her gently and it sent shockwaves to each of her tissues and lions causing her an undeniable pain.

“Puppy, shh, shh. ‘s just me, making sure if y'okay.” He scrambles closer to her towering her to cradle her face and kiss the tip of her nose—- his face falls drastically and his heart cracks miserly when Y/N pushes him away with a sorrowful mumble not even letting him wipe the drool away from the corner of her mouth as he usually does.

“’M okay . . .” She tries to knuckle the sleepiness away with shivery hands, “No you’re not —...” He’s cut off by her angry pout and her silly efforts to keep as much distance between them as possible, “I don’t need, Daddy . . ‘m big and I could take care of me self.” At her puny waver realization dawns upon Harry and his brows shoots up to his hairline feeling nauseous and terrible for not taking care of his babylove earlier.

He’d have never let her be away from him if he knew she was in her subspace.

“Y/N baby . . . I didn’t mean it, darling —--...” With gentleness he tries to approach her but she wraps her arms around her petite figure in a protective manner, haziness taking best of her and Harry’s chest suffocates into itself, being a dom it’s your responsibility to make your subby feel protected, loved and happy and he even failed at that.

He quickly cups both of her hot cheeks in his nippy palms when she hiccups sadly, a sob threatening to slip out, “Yes you did! You meant it. Said you spoiled me, I don’t want your money, promise! I just want you and y'shooed me away saying Y/N’s too needy . . .” Harry flinches at her words. He never even spared a thought to this negativity that she chooses to be with him for his money because he knows out of all the people she’s the only one who loves him out of the boundaries of status and money.

He realises how stabbing they'd have been to her when she was so sensitive and floaty wanting nothing more, just him.

How deep she has gone if she’s taking her own name in third person.

“’M sorry baby. So sorry. Swear on myself, didn’t mean to hurt my baby, knows tha’ work shouldn’t be an excuse t’ make y'feel unloved—- but those bastards got a tick outta me.” He rambles on frantically. Afraid she’ll think he’s lying and would finally make up her mind to leave him.

“You didn’t?” She asks with so much innocence Harry nearly cries out, “’Course I didn’t! How could I? You could never be needy, Bab. I love you so much and you’re my whole word, forgive me please?”

“You’re forgiven,” She let a small smile flutter up her features, a tinge of gleam in her previous dull eyes brightening the whole room and Harry immediately bunches her up in his lap.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks her, not sure if she still needs space from him and would rather be better without him but she bobs her head shyly and he chuckles softly before touching their lips together into a tender loving kiss and brushes their noses up and down murmuring sweetly coy to her.

“Now, could y'tell daddy how y'got this bruise baby? How did ya get hurt?” He coos, brushing her sweaty hair back and rubs her sweet gland behind her ear delicately, “Oh yeah . . . this, was raining and slipped.” She murmurs, hissing a gasp jolting away when Harry glides his fingers gently down her hip bone and fresh tears springs in her eyes as she buries herself in his chest, “Daddy hurts. . .” . “Oh babypie. Daddy’s g'na take care of his love.” He lays her down gently kissing her forehead when she whines for him to keep on holding her, “’M right here darling. G'na prep us a bath, make my baby alright.” Saying this he quickly disappears inside the washroom and next their room’s sursuring with marble tub filling with warm water, Harry throws in her favourite pink coloured bath bombs and rose essences and throws their towels in the warmer coming back with her as he left her to be, he has decided he’s gonna love on her whole night, “My baby’s the best, ain’t she? She’s my bestest girl.” He coos down at her sweetly and slides his forearms under her knees and back picking her up carefully and brings her to his chest securely.

She closes her eyes, biting down a whimper when Harry dips them in the water some it sloshing down the edges of bathtub and it envelopes them and gives a stingy feeling to her bruise before soothing it down.

He rubs her arms, and circles smoothing patterns on her tummy and kisses her a gallons as she melts in his embrace and he let’s her sink into him more, nibbling and sponging wet ticklish kisses on her neck making her purr and become a puddle of softness in his hold while she takes her time to mumble all the bad events that happened to her and he felt so guilty of not asking her how she’s and how her day went when she came to him, in need of some of his lovin.

“I love you so much, bab.” He suckles her earlobe, toying and plucking her bottom plush lip, “Was prick to me love —.. you deserve all my lovin,” He noses at her jaw, not forgetting it to mark it with his pecks and sloppy bites.

“’S okay daddy, y'had a bad day too.” He’s grateful to have her in his life. She cares about him, maybe more than he does for her and he feels himself lucky for it.

“You want me to help you relax?”

“Can I have you?” Her tone bashfully desperate and coy, Harry meanders their fingers together and kisses her knuckles softly.

Considering her wound still being sore and pulp, having sex would be painful for her and she might not grasp it in her hazy mind but Harry doesn’t want to hurt at all.

He plants a little noisy smooch to her shoulder when she nods, she mews and purrs when Harry glides his palm all the way down her body and cups her pussy digging his palm into her mound and coats his digits with her arousal dipping the pads of his fingers into her entrance, “All this wet f'me?” Palming her tits while whispering sweet nothings into her ear when she gasps and closes up on Harry scratching nails into his bended knees.

“Shh, shh puppy, jus' relax hmm? Feel yourself.” With sputtery inhales she does as he says, soon two of his fingers slips inside her and he strokes her pussy and pulls them out making her all whiny and pushes them back with a squelching noise, fucking her with it smiling and stopping when her thighs parts falls again his’s completely.

“Daddy!” She writhes and whines, trembly hands trying to bring Harry fingers back to her pulsating wetness, “You’re the cutest.” He smiles against her lips giving her cheeks several squishes and pats her head loving to see his adorable princess all flustery for him.

On her demands. He slicks his fingers back inside her and caresses the insides of her thighs while she pants and sinks onto his knuckles blabbering out daddydaddydaddy weepily.

“Cum fo’ me, puppy. Feels good? Yeah? My baby feels nice?” He rasps in her mouth, curving and petting the soft spot inside her pussy and sucks onto her upper lip when she moans and mewls loudly gushing all over his finger and he keeps on fucking her till she’s all sleepy and balmy against his chest.

Harry coaxes her tenderly, smoothing his hands all over her twitchy spots and patches sloppy kisses all over her face that makes her all giggly and shy—- the amount of endorphins spiking high in her system.

“Love you so much, daddy.” She mushes puckering her lips into his throat.

“Love you too, pup.”

#dom harry x subby y/n #dom harry x sub reader #dom!h x sub!reader #dom!h x sub!y/n #dom harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles story #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #cute harry #harry styles #harry smut #harry styles fanfiction #fluff #harry angst #hsh

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ironicsopsychotic · 3 years ago

Note

First Line Tag Game! Rules: List the first lines of the last ten stories you published (or works in progress if you’re feeling brave lol). Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any!

okay imma thank you first (i love this game omg) and say that i WANTED to be ambitious and do both published fics and wips, but i started on wips first and this is long af. so here we are. over half are hoa fics but i threw in some random oneshots for other fandoms.

[10 WORKS IN PROGRESS]

#1 the hard part (hoa; 03. in neddie au series)

Two days. Two days after Amber gave the breakup news, two days of incredibly uncomfortable Sibuna meetings, two days of Eddie blatantly lying to himself that ending their whole tryst wasn't a big deal. Two days of all of that, and then Nina sent him to the clearing in the woods for a solo mission but showed up five minutes after he did.

Two days, and she told him that waiting for things to cool down wasn't cutting it for her. He took in her words slowly, but he took them in, and he took in the meeting place, and then he took her in.

#2 golden opportunity (hoa; jeroy college au)

It's the day after sophomore finals week ends and Joy honestly has to wonder how the fuck Mick convinced everyone to go out drinking in celebration. Drinking itself is fine; drinking with Mick at the helm is a lot like trying to swim upstream without a paddle. No good could possibly come from it.

#3 i summoned you (hoa; nina&eddie time loop s2 finale au)

Nina doesn't remember events normally when Senkhara's using her.

The mask is like a film over her eyes, everything distorted just enough that she doesn't feel like herself. She knows what she's doing when she pushes the mask into her skin, but the moments after shift into slow motion, a nightmare she can't stop.

#4 the hookup (hoa; jamber college au)

Try as he might, Jerome Clarke could not, with whatever remnants of a conscience he had left, claim he didn't know who she was.

#5 definition of an extended play (btr; kucy college soulmate au)

The first time he met Lucy Stone, he figured some part of his soul just knew, even without the mark.

His head's the one that has some catching up to do.

#6 exile (good witch; nace post-s5 finale)

Smiling up at her onstage giving her graduation speech is the very least he can do. He can smile, and clap, and even cheer like all the cheesy coming-of-age movies she'd made him watch over the years.

What he can't do is gather her up in his arms afterward. He can't press a kiss to her temple, congratulating her with words but also with every single love language there is. He can't hold her hand as they all go out to eat before heading back to Grey House for their joint grad party. He can't look her in the eyes and revel in the fact that she knows everything he's feeling, and that she feels it too.

He can't do any of that, so he smiles and hopes it's enough to tide him over.

It isn't.

#7 new place, same feeling (supah ninajs; amanda/flint post-s2)

Spending the summer away from Empire City and the dojo was kind of fucking with her.

#8 road trip to your heart (spooksville; adally +watch road trip)

It starts like this:

road trip. u me and watch.

be seen in public w you? oh hell nah

i'm serious

so am i ;)

adam.

senior year.

senior prom.

you need an opportunity to step up your game before you ask me to it, and i'm more than happy to give you that chance.

#9 it's a wedding, not the end of the world (hoa; after anubis series, jeroy wedding)

kindly join us for

the wedding of

JEROME CLARKE & JOY MERCER

5:00pm | July 31st | Calderstone Park: Ornamental Garden

~lil skip ahead of a joy, patricia, willow, & kt group chat~

[willow] you don't have to worry about a thing, joy!

this'll be the best wedding ever!

[kt] agreed! :)

[patricia] sit back and relax, we've got this

five months later...

"Holy shit, we don't got this."

Alfie kept his face smushed on the outside of the leaning cake box and breathed out harshly. "A little HELP??"

#10 in more ways than one (hoa; neddie s2 soulmate au)

Nina spent the morning after Senkhara marked Amber feeling braindead and searching for long socks.

She felt helpless. She couldn't help getting marked herself; she barely cared about that anymore. Besides Victor seeing it and the occasional burn, it wasn't too bad. Sometimes she could even pretend this was just another fun mystery like the beginning of the previous year. But then Fabian lied to her, he got a mark himself, and she realized that, yet again, she couldn't protect anyone. She couldn't even protect herself against Rufus in their final showdown--Jerome had thrown the flies.

so the trend i'm seeing here is i like starting w a (hopefully) intriguing hook, usually just one line. i try to make it at least a little ominous yet simultaneously all-encompassing of what the fic's about. but i already kinda knew that, so lemme know if you see any other trends? and if you wanna do this game, i tag you! :)

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bakatenshii · 4 years ago

Text

Flushed

Dabi x Reader (BNHA)

word count: 5.1k

TW: 18+, smut, dub/noncon, drug use/abuse, corruption, virginity, (mild) blood

A/N: I am 12 days late for Sunny’s birthday, but my heart beats for one person and one person only— the light of my life, my wife @blahkugo, who wrote me two (2!!) Shig fics for my bday Charity & Sludge, that I reread on the daily like the morning news. Cheeky shoutout to @thisisthehardestthing for writing one iconic sentence in here that I would have framed if I could.

flushed

/fləSHt/

(of a person's skin) red and hot, typically as the result of illness or strong emotion.

cleanse (something) by causing large quantities of water to pass through it.

Dabi doesn’t prowl for prey, he’s not on the lookout for fowl to take home for dinner. No, they come to him. It’s easy, always so obvious, he plucks them out like chicken in a hen house, ripe for breeding.

It wasn’t hard to spot a desperate girl burning out, Hell, the campus’ full of them. But you had something more, something fun, something that made his lips quirk up and his dick twitch— you were uncorrupted.

He can just tell, despite the airs you try to give, the aura of a virgin’s akin to an omega in heat to a starving alpha. Sweet, honeysuckle, the tiny flinches when a man gets too close, the breathy lilt in your voice when they propose something too risque; he inhales it all, commits it all to memory like you were desperately trying to do as you chewed on the tip of your pen and scratched out lines on the book in front of you.

He didn’t need to push, you were already teetering the line, but he did it anyways— because it was fun.

It was elating to watch you stumble into class the next day, eyes dark with sleepless anxiety, misery painted into every crevice of your features while your notes were tucked neatly into the drawer in his room. Really, you shouldn’t have left them so open on the lecture hall table, it’s like inviting a robber home and cooking him a three course meal.

Finals season marked the end of your social life, and the beginning of Dabi’s career. It was almost boring, the repetitive nature of his job; too easy, too simple, a mockery of the entitled bookworms who look down on scummy repeaters like him. But the entitlement is what fuels him, over-achievers fearing for two simple digits on a crumpled sheet of paper as if it’s worse than death itself.

He thrives off of their stubbornness to accept anything below perfect; the hilarity of it all, the irony that their insurance to achieve higher standards than that of a scum like him only fuels his lifestyle, bringing him deeper down the depths of degeneracy.

He sat behind you closer than usual, spoke a lil louder than usual, dropped in the most nonchalant comment about a study drug kids are crazing over these days. He watched as you flinched, hands stopped moving to listen in to the spiel he was spewing, the fishing hook he was dangling in front of you.

A magic pill, one that’ll help you concentrate, kill any sleepiness, get you buzzed for hours on end— best of all, it’s totally legal, he gets it from a pharmacist, scout’s honour.

That’s what he told you when you turned around to him at the end of class, whispering in hushed fear, nerves bouncing off your skin in goosebumps on your exposed arms.

Why he’s selling it? Because he needs some extra cash, he said. He knew you didn’t believe him, but he knew you were desperate enough not to care.

When you met him in the dead of night at the empty carpark of his building, he knew he’s got you; hook, line, and sinker. No self-respecting girl would meet bottom-barrel trash like him in a deserted location at half three in the morning, no, you were untainted, but you weren’t pure.

He didn’t need to know it worked, doesn’t matter what your test results reflected, all that mattered was that you came back to him a few weeks later, met him at the same dingy carpark, hands trembling slightly less this time.

He pretended to scold you, reveled in the way your lips curled into a soft pout, and warned you that tolerance builds fast. Do it in moderation, he had said— he’s the world’s biggest hypocrite.

You came to him only a week later this time, and Dabi had pretended to be shocked. He wasn’t, he gave you a lower dosage the last time, there was no way you’d have been satisfied. Microdosing leads the unsuspecting to addiction, the one fact he learned from school. He lectured you, asked you if you’d built up tolerance too fast, if you wanted to try something different?

He watched as your eyes lit up, pupils dilating in excitement at the promise of something different, something better. It really was too easy. You were too easy.

That night he invited himself over to yours, said he’d wanted to make sure you didn’t have any side effects. It was new, after all, and it was stronger. He’d sit there and be quiet, he promised; it was all out of the kindness of his own heart.

It was almost embarrassing how eagerly you’d lie to yourself in hopes of a better grade.

Dabi wasn’t gonna do anything to you that night, trust takes time to build up after all. Besides, it’s no fun to pounce on the prey before they started running. You studied the nonsensical scribbling on annotated novels, he studied your tiny movements, twitches, nervous habits; etched them into his brain for future use.

A too-long breath, a gasp, a clench of the fist signaled your come-up. He timed it, approximately thirty-five minutes for the initial peak, then smaller spikes at half hour intervals, totaling in four hours before you came down. Impressive, still, considering he’d given you the same dosage as the first time.

He stuck to his words, staying quiet only until prompted, offered you water every once in a while, really, he deserved an Oscar for playing the best supporting dealer. It only took two more sessions before your tolerance peaked again, calculated and timed to perfection right before the next assignment.

The beauty of seeking out an English major was that they’re always searching, reaching into the void for any type of inspiration to translate into eloquently formed words. The beauty of seeking out you, was that you were already in too deep, hooked by the lil pills and plunged into the bottom of the ocean.

Your grades rose while your inhibitions sank, a dramatic irony, isn’t that what they called it?

It’s cute, really, he only had to give you a nudge this time. Asked you how your assignment was going, played the sympathetic friend, and offered you something completely new, completely different. ‘Have you ever tried 2CB?’

Silly question, rhetorical, almost; of course you hadn’t. Innocent sweet girl like you never would’ve even touched weed, much less a hallucinogen. But he poses it to you in an eager tone like he’s genuinely waiting on an answer, like this isn’t just one big game to him. He laughed when you said no, asked him what it was— do you want him to show you?

You trust him, don’t you? He’s helped you through your exams, supported you through your assignments, honestly, he deserved a pat on the back. Don’t tell him you didn’t trust him, come on now, that’d break his heart.

He didn’t expect you to put up a fight, but you gave in almost too easily, guess those lil pills really did migrate and nest in your bloodstream.

The safety of your own dorm room was always granted to you, a faux-sense of security to veil you in, shield you from the true depth of depravity you’ve sunken to. He held you underwater in a net, ensuring you that he’d pull you up whenever— ‘just say the word.’

The net had long been cut, he’d admired the way you’d comforted down there, paddling aimlessly in hopeful conviction.

It’s become routine, almost. Dabi lets himself in easily, settles into the couch across your desk, pulls out a baggy and passes it to you. “A psychedelic,” he explains, “you’ll see colours you’d never seen, find beauty in everything, an artist’s best friend,” if he does say so himself.

He watches you pop the lil pill in your mouth, follow the stream of water pour down your throat, traveling the rips and divots of your tongue, before it drops down your throat into your bloodstream with a bob of your larynx. You’re so pliant, so obedient, he reminds himself to thank your parents for grooming such a cute lil doll.

You let out a loud gasp an hour and a half later, and he watches your fingers curl into themselves; and for the first time he speaks unprompted.

“You good?” It’s almost genuine; the curiosity, at least. He wants to know how articulate you are, needs to know how deeply submerged your consciousness has become.

He watches as you meet his gaze, little tongue dashing out to wet your lips, and nods once, twice, slowly. You shake your head almost immediately after, croaking out an, “I feel ill,” before pushing meekly at your desk to stand your body up. Cute, weak.

Just how he likes them.

He reaches an arm out to you, pulling you into his chest easily and nests your head into the crook of his neck. “Nauseous, aren’t you?” You nod, and he smirks. “Don’t worry princess, it’s just a rough come-up. I’ll make you feel better, I promise.”

It’s almost believable, how sickly sweet he sounds. Too many sitcoms accumulated in recycled dialogues to woo girls in any situation; mix and match, simple yet effective.

He can feel the restless rise and fall of your chest pressing against his, short quick pants as if gasping for air, a small hand scraping at his arm; yeah, you’re definitely coming up.

He picks you up and nestles you into your own couch, so easily as if handling a ragdoll, then walks to the kitchen and pours you some water. The perfect friend, the perfect support, the perfect dealer. You’re so vulnerable, so exposed, you don’t even know it; it makes his brain fog over with carnal desire to pounce— but he doesn’t. Not yet.��

He lays back on the couch with you, arm snaking around your shoulder to coax you into a subdued euphoria. All the words he’s garnered throughout the years of fishing for his next meal come bubbling out so naturally in practiced scripts, “It’s okay princess, it’s a stronger pill. It’ll make you feel better, I promise.” He’s promising a whole lot, tonight.

“Hey,” he tips your face to meet his with all the tenderness of a lion stalking its prey, “I’m here, right? You trust me, don’t you? I’ve never let you down. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

It’s hard to force down the gagging noise on cue with his disgustingly fake, rom-com lines, but the way he can feel your body loosen, relax, and mold into his tells him he’s close. So close.

This is the best part, this is what he’s good at; the last stretch of patience while stalking his prey, with footsteps so light, treading so carefully, until the air slows down around him and he can taste your scent wafting through the air.

It happens in an instant, a whole-body jolt as you tense up, euphoria announced with a sharp gasp. The smile that crawls up his face is nothing short of sinister, predatory, but he knows you don’t notice. You can’t. Your eyes are strewn shut, basking in the high, and he takes the moment to swallow the pill he’s held under his tongue.

It’s no fun to tripsit, he doesn’t get anything out of that, and Dabi doesn’t do things for free. He feels your head fall back onto his shoulder, short breaths warming a ripple of goosebumps up his neck, and watches as you push your heavy lids open to gaze at the ceiling.

He can feel your giggles reverberating through his chest before he hears them, innocent, pure, unsuspecting. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, because virtuous girls like you like to be treasured, made to feel special, safe— he can make you feel safe; no one’s told him not to play with his food before he eats it.

He watches as you flutter your eyelids at him, sigh into his touch, really, you’re the textbook prototype, he doesn’t even need to adjust his tactics. “You feelin’ good?” A hot breath into your ear, and he revels in the way your lips pout to let out a soft sigh.

Funny how differently you react when you’re high out of your mind, maybe it’s the drug, or maybe it’s just Dabi? You’ve always wanted a bad boy like him, didn’t you? Good girls like bad guys; it’s textbook cliché, and you’re the blueprint.

He doesn’t wait on an answer, he knows it: you’re feeling good, great— divine. He’ll be right there with you soon, he promises.

“Tell me what you see, princess,” Dabi’s not listening when a cascade of nonsensical descriptions come bubbling out, he doesn’t care. It’s all to get you to keep talking, shift your attention elsewhere while his hand slithers down your arm to play with the hem of your shirt.

At the first brush of his finger on the bare skin of your waist, he feels you purr into him, eyes rolling back in bliss. It’s his cue to give you more, invitation for him to snake his other hand up your naked thigh and knead the flesh gently.

Gentle does it, he’ll bring you higher as you go.

He ghosts a breath just under your ear, nipping at your lobe, and admires the full body shiver tumbling through. Moans, loud and needy, come panting out past your lips and echoes off the walls before bouncing back to him. He lets you symphonize short breaths and whiney pleas with each lick and suck traveling down your neck, painting blooms of purple and red as his hand travels dangerously high.

A firm grip is all the warning he gives you before he tucks his fingers into the crease of your thigh, laughing almost at how obediently you spread your legs. What happened to that pure, innocent girl? Guess under all that laid a dirty whore, just like the rest of ‘em.

It was slick, so wet, pussy dripping past the delicate lace and drooling over his fingers. Lace, befitting of a slut who lured him in with the fake charms of a virgin. He slides a finger down your slit, gathering up all the juices before presenting it to you.

“What do you see?” He holds up his finger, slick dripping down like syrup, and watches your pupils dilate in effort to focus. He can see the way your lips part, string of saliva connecting the two soft molds, before gasping out, “melting ice cream.”

“Want a taste?”

You clamp over his finger before he even asks you to, sucks on the digit like it’s a melting ice lolly, before your eyes shoot open and mouth twists in disgust. Of course it doesn’t taste nice, normal food isn’t even edible when you’re rolling like this. You’re sticking your tongue out, in an attempt to air out the taste, or maybe you’re just a dumb dog, a dumb bitch, he’s not sure. He doesn’t really care.

The same hand, now slick with saliva, grips your chin and crashes your lips into his. His tongue finds yours first, tip licking up the crevice of yours lolling out, and he sucks it into his mouth like it’s a crime for it to be kissing the air.

There’s no modesty, no gentleness, his tongue pries your lips open, and he feels the weakest form of resistance before he’s thrusting the muscle down your throat. He lapping over the back of your teeth, traces over each bump and rugae on the gummy sides, and snickers at your shit attempt to kiss him back with your slack mouth drooling out the corners.

He feels a pawing at his arm— your hand meekly grabbing at the sleeve of his shirt to bring him in closer, press his chest into your soft tits, crowd him into you more, more, more.

It’s cute; it’s stupidly desperate.

He gets it though, it’s no worries. Human nature is all it is; the desire to climb higher and higher— he wonders if he can get one out of you before the pill hits him.

There’s no gentleness in the way his hand slots between your legs and cups your dripping cunt this time. He wishes he has more time to admire the way your legs quiver and twitch with every firm pat against your clit, but he’s on a time crunch. There’s so much time to spare, he can play with it all he wants later.

He can feel your needy moan vibrate through his lips and reverberate straight into his brain, sloppy mouths working simultaneously together and against each other as he rips your panties and shorts off in one go. Any self respecting girl would shut their legs in shame, in embarrassment, any attempt to protect their dignity, but you don’t. He doesn’t let you, anyways.

A hand moves under your shirt to roughly grip at your tits in the same breath he sinks a finger into your sopping hole. Inhale; squeeze, thrust, exhale— you moan. It’s tight, as tight as a virgin pussy should be, but not too tight that it fights against the foreign digit ramming into it at a relentless pace too rough and quick to befit an unexplored hole.

He can feel the pulsing around him, gummy walls milking his finger for all its worth, and he digs his palm into your swollen bud; it’s all he needed for you to come undone. You don’t squeal, you don’t scream, the 2CB in your system rendering you incapable of anything except long breathy sobs of his name.

His finger pops out with a wet squelch, and he brings it to his mouth to taste it; tarty, thick— he’s still sober. You’re blubbering out drivel about the stars you saw, the colours swirling around at the peak of your euphoria, you think you saw God— is Dabi God?

Dabi had to laugh, pat you on the head with his hand covered in syrupy slick, watch it leak and clump your strands of hair. He picks you up with your shorts and panties drenched through dangling at your ankles, and walks you to your bed.

You don’t notice, still basking in the afterglow; he knows this. Not that you’d push him off, tell him to stop. Not in your state anyways. You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

He drops you once the bed’s in frame at the same time he feels his pulse rise, heart palpitate, and a wave of nausea threatens to bubble over. It doesn’t; he doesn’t let it. An experienced veteran would never. It’s a welcomed sensation, one he’s all too familiar with, and he gives himself a brief minute to breathe it in, savour it, before glancing back down at your limp body on the bed.

Is it your body? He can trace your silhouette from the dip of your waist, the full of your hips, something glistening, gleaming in the light— your pretty little virgin cunt. His eyes roll back at the next inhale before he finds himself landing on the bed on top of you, forearms digging into the soft mattress of your bed.

He hears your voice singing into his brain, soft lulls of his name stringing out in DabiDabiDabi— the desperation and need shooting straight to his cock, he doesn’t even need to look down at your soft pliant body, welcoming him, inviting him in.

“Feels good, yeah?” His voice comes out rougher than usual, low and strained, and laughs at how eagerly you nod, watches your chin catch the air and paint strokes of colour following the route it takes, “Who makes you feel this good?”

He knows, he knows because it’s all you’ve been able to say the past while, the only word on your mind that you can even blubber out—

“You, Dabi,” your pants grow heavier; his pants grow tighter, “it’s you Dabi, please—“

A hand reaches up to cradle his cheek, your soft, uncalloused, hand, and he grips it by the wrist before bringing it up to his face. He traces every line that curves and meets on your palm with his tongue, letting it be covered entirely with drool before wrenching it down under his joggers and into his boxers to cup his aching erection.

His hips rut into your palm almost immediately as a knee-jerk reaction, every hump into your tiny hand has him panting into your face, sweat beading at his temples. His tongue drops down to lick at your lips, asking for entrance, begging for access. Your lips might’ve parted just a fraction, maybe just to let out a breathe, but Dabi takes it as permission to thrust his tongue in and prod at your dormant one.

He can feel you gag at the sudden intrusion, throat convulsing to push back the unfamiliar slimy muscle, and he briefly considers yanking your hand out and shoving his cock down that pretty little mouth of yours.

But he doesn’t, because he doesn’t have the patience. He needs it urgently, needs your tight virgin cunny stretching and agonizing over his overbearing size, needs to feel the flutter of the gummy walls with each thrust; he needs it bad, he needs it now—

Your hand is wrenched away as he yanks both waistbands down to his thighs. He looks at you, eyes blurring through kaleidoscopic vision, and makes out your disoriented gaze staring back at him. Disoriented with toxins, disoriented with need, lust, desperation— a hand reaches behind Dabi’s neck and pulls him back down to crash bruised lips together.

It’s all the invitation he needs, not that he needs it, no, what he needs is to sink his painfully hard cock into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. There’s a faint squealing coming from underneath him, and he thinks he can feel nails digging crescents into his nape, but all he can feel is your warm, wet walls clenching around him.

There was no need to prepare you for any longer, there’s no point if he doesn’t stretch your virgin pussy out with his own cock; it’s wasted on fingers, his fingers don’t deserve to feel the way you walls quiver and contract around it. The pitched cries stop eventually as he feels your body go pliant and soft, and he has half a mind to realize you’re probably starting to come down soon.

He doesn’t wanna deal with that, you won’t be sober for another few hours, but you’ve peaked already, and not with him; that’s not fair, that’s no fun. His cock stills inside you with half still unsheathed and he reaches down into his pocket to take out a baggy of powder. There’s a spoon in, thank fuck, and he feeds a small bump right up to your nose.

“Inhale,” he slots it right up your nostril, “it’ll make you feel good, didn’t you feel good?” Your head lowers to nod, bumps the edge of the spoon right into the cartilage of your nose, and inhale. Good girl.

The baggy is tossed haphazardly before he’s working his dick into you again, cockhead pushing through the doughy walls in search of that pocket at the end of your pussy.

You don’t struggle anymore, instead clinging onto his shoulders and carving half-moons into the flesh. It hurts a lil, and Dabi doesn’t like it when it hurts, not when he’s the one hurting.

He snatches your hands off him and pushes them above your head, into the plush forgiving mattress. His teeth are back on your neck, biting over the ripples of purple and green and red and blue, reveling in your cries and moans that come out in symphonies.

It feels good, great— divine, it’s what he deserves for bringing you to Nirvana. He’s basically your muse, after all, how can you truly describe rapture without experiencing it first?

He can hear your moans ringing out from underneath, can see them traveling in the air in hues of reds and pinks and reds and reds— there’s red on your bedsheets, of course there is. He forgot that’s what comes with a virgin cunt; blood, mixing with the translucent coating his cock, dripping down and painting the crisp white sheet red, drifting into the air and congesting the whole room with red.

He inhales the colour, sucks it into his lungs, and uses it to fuel the pistoning of his hips. Your breaths turn to pants, turns to sobs of his name leaving your lips again, and he thinks you look good, so good, taking his cock like this. You should thank him for bringing you to your second orgasm.

Just look at you, crazy isn’t it? Crazy what a lil pill can do. But he’s got something better, something so much better, something that’ll bring you to a new dimension. You want that, don’t you? C’mon don’t be shy, Dabi will bring you right there, don’t you worry.

There’s still the faint cries from your orgasm when he flips you over and pushes your face into the untainted sheets. He watches as your hands sprawl up to grip and grasp at something, anything, and his hands ease up on the hold on your skull for a second to let you wheeze and greedily gasp for air.

He flickers a trail of blue down your back, watches the flames dance and rage in a mirage, every bouquet indented by the ligament of each tender rib, and there’s a faint scream. The pitch rises with the flames, taunting it to go higher, faster, paint murals in every swell of your back until he can’t see anything except ash coal char.

Dabi blinks, squints his eyes as he throws his head back to focus on the paint chipping on the ceiling. It cracks and crinkles, shying away from his pointed glare, before he sucks in a deep breath and looks back down at you.

There’s no ash, no char, only warm tanned flesh, pressed flush against the pristine white sheets underneath. It burns against the pads of his long fingers splayed out across your back, and he winces in annoyance at the irony.

You don’t seem to notice his pause, too fucked out or fucked up to register what’s going around you probably. A mixture of both; Dabi can’t really remember what he’s given you or how long he’s been there.

He can’t decide if he wants to stay there anymore, can’t make out the pros and cons of either. He counts them off with each painful yank of your hair, each harsh thrust into your abused virgin cunt— it was that, wasn’t it?

He was there because he sniffed out a cute lil virgin, one so untainted and untouched, one begging for him to corrupt. He’s not known to be very generous, but sometimes he gets into one of those moods; it can’t be helped when there’s a desperate doll waiting to be torn apart.

He knows what you want, can read you with his eyes closed— you don’t need eyes to feel the pulse of a greedy cunny; it clenches with every slap of the face, damn near clamps down entirely as his slender fingers slither around to the front of your throat.

Two fingers shove past your lolling tongue and yanks your head back by the digits hooked on the corner of your mouth. There’s drool, and spit, and so many fluids coming and entering all at once— and then you’re coming, again, probably, for the third time that night. Fourth?

It’s methodical, straightforward, he reads the instruction manual once, maybe twice if the first one’s a bit faulty, and he’s got it down to muscle memory.

At the sound of heaving he looks back down again, admires the feel of two of his fingertips fucked straight into the back of your throat, and pushes down on the rugged gummy wall. You gag, and he laughs. It’s cute, so cute, you’re real cute, you know?

“Such a good lil whore aren’t you?” He digs his nails into the flesh of your hip and rams his cockhead until he can feel the kiss from your puckered cervix. “All fucked out of your mind, bet you can’t even hear me, can you?”

He watches as you gurgle out words past his fingers wedged down your slack mouth, and choke on the pools of saliva drooling out. It’s the funniest sight, fascinates him to death, really.

A slap to the face might bring you out of your daze, so he slips his hand back out of your sloppy mouth and revels at your body propelling forward straight into the headboard. He grasps at the tips of your hair and wrench your body back towards him before any satisfying impact could sound out. It’s a shame, but concussions are not in his agenda.

“Been fucked so loose, filthy slut can’t even keep your body up,” he rolls your hair around his hands and yanks back until your skull meets his chin; it’s excruciatingly painful, probably, and that’s why it’s the best.

It’s the perfect way for your mouth to fall open naturally, to scream, squeal, fluster around in attempt to be freed from the position— it creates the perfect hole for him to spit in. He watches as your face contorts in disgust, tongue pushed out to let his spit drool out the sides, but that’s no fun, not very nice of you, is it?

“Swallow,” he assists you with an extra hard thrust, and you choke on the moan coming out. His hand comes forward from your hip to rest under your chin before pushing it up so it clamps shut, “I said, swallow.”

Your eyes flood with tears that waterfall down your face, and God, he thinks you look the best like this— wrecked on his cock, body littered in purple and red, covered in sweat and blood and cum; his perfect lil cocksleeve, just for him.

It’s emotional, almost— religious, even, he can feel the palpitations in his heart thumping against his chest echoing off the headboard banging against the wall, and lets the euphoria consume him, wash over him as he coats your walls with hot ropes of cream and white, hips stuttering with your greedy cunny fluttering and clenching around it, milking and sucking in his cock in deeper, deeper, more.

He thinks you might’ve cum, might still be cumming, but all he can hear is the Messiah calling for him, choir singing lulling him into an infinite jubilation; he closes his eyes to bathe in it, let himself be cleansed and washed over with ecstasy.

When he pulls out, your body flops onto the mattress, and he watches as white dribbles out your quivering hole, mixing with the red on the sheets, creating a puddle of pink and magenta, before passing out in the fuschia.

2K notes · View notes

feliix · 4 years ago

Text

Bluff ⇢ PJM (18+)

⇢ Pairing: Jimin x Reader ⇢ Summary: Working at The Big Kahuna with Park Jimin consists of a lot of suggestive flirting with no actions made to follow it up. But after a summer filled with endless amounts of sexual tension, it’s finally time to let things loose. ⇢ Word Count: 3.8k ⇢ Rating: M ⇢ Genre: Smut, PWP, Coworkers to Lovers, a lil bit of fluff ⇢ Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, teasing, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstilulation, dom!jimin, sub!reader ⇢ Banner made by @hobiance ⇢ A/N: thank you @jinterlude for beta reading this and @jinned for hyping me up always ily ily ily ♡ (the end is not edited so sorry rip) ⇢ Written for BHQ’s Bangtan Boardwalk Summer Collab

Working at the Big Kahuna hasn’t always been such a breeze. During the busy season, customers are in and out of here, renting jet-skis, paddle boards, and kayaks alike, all day long.

It's a little blue hut right on the water, a walk-up window that you sit behind overlooking a wooden dock. It’s small inside the hut, just enough room for you and one other person to work a shift, but it’s cozy, and the view is unbeatable, so you don’t really mind. The sandy beach surrounding you holds a plethora of water-sports equipment, ready for rental and just dying to be used at this point.

But now it's late in the season, the weather is cooling down, and fewer people have been showing up. It doesn’t quite matter to you, though. Fewer customers mean less work, and the less there is to do here, the better.

You’d think it’d get boring with nothing to do, but with a coworker like Park Jimin, things are always interesting. To be frank, he’s a flirt. But so are you, which is why working here this summer has been nothing short of a dream.

The flirtatious banter between you goes no further than just innocent teasing. It’s just something to keep you occupied while you get through your shift. Not that you’re complaining, though. If it did ever go somewhere further, you would not be mad about it. He’s hot, and you’re both young and single, so something’s bound to happen. You can cut the lingering sexual tension with a knife, and the longer you’re around each other, the thicker said tension gets.

So far today, there have only been two customers; a dad and his son who came in a few hours ago to rent out a couple of jet skis. When things are slow around here, the two of you seem to match the energy. It takes twice as long to clean up after people leave with twice the amount of energy expected just to complete a simple task. All you want to do is sit on your stool behind the counter and look pretty – nothing more, nothing less.

But even though the customers left over two hours ago, Jimin has yet to clean off the jet-skis. After losing a close match of ‘rock paper scissors’ the daunting task now belongs to him. And even though the equipment probably won’t be used for the rest of the day, it still bothers you that Jimin has been pushing off the task for so long.

All he’s doing is sitting on the stool next to you and messing around on his phone. Every once in awhile, he’ll snap a quick selfie, pushing his hair back with one hand and adjusting his look for the camera. He’s probably Snapchatting another random girl, whatever lucky lady has the pleasure of having his attention for the day. Not that you’re jealous or anything...

“So are you gonna clean those jet-skis or..?” Your voice is passive-aggressive, slightly taunting, and that bothers Jimin.

His eyes roll back into his head, a deep exhale leaving his mouth, “Yeah, when I feel like it.” A sly smirk grows on his lips, knowing his careless words and procrastinating actions are driving you up the wall.

Now it's your turn for your eyes to roll back into your head. You are just about to stand up and grab a rag to clean them yourself, but you will not let Park Jimin get his way again.

That’s how working with him went. It’s like he knows he has some kind of mindless control over you, that you’ll just pick up his slack once he flashes you with his pearly whites. Damn him and his little crooked tooth that makes your heart twist a bit more than you’d like to admit.

“Can you just wipe off the jet-skis already? You did lose the bet.”

Your tone is kinder this time, adding a head tilt to make you seem a bit more friendly. He doesn’t buy it.

“Be careful ordering me around like that. Keep it up, and I’ll have to show you who’s actually in charge.”

There he goes again with the suggestive flirting. Except his actions never follow through. He just throws words like that out there, making your knees weak to rile you up. That’s half of the fun. The other half is watching you try to muster up some confidence to respond while your face flushes and legs squeeze together.

“You’re bluffing.” You roll your eyes once more. Part of you thinks that he is, but that deep-seated desire for him is nearly at its peak. And the small tinge of hope you have that he’s being serious suddenly becomes not so little – right at the moment, his feet begin pacing over to you.

“Am I?”

The left corner of his mouth lifts upwards, his eyes growing dark and eerie as he gets closer and closer. You swallow thickly, your heart beating faster as he approaches you. Without realizing, your legs clamp shut, squeezing together for dear life to ease the throbbing ache of your pussy as Jimin slowly closes the distance between you. And before you know it, you’re standing up from your stool; your heart caught in your throat as your mouth runs dry.

So badly you want to hold your ground. To keep yourself back from jumping his bones, grabbing the back of his neck to crash your lips into his. But you need restraint. He’s the one who's bluffing; he’s the one that has to make the move.

“M-mhm,” you hum, saving yourself the embarrassment of actually trying to speak in a state like this.

His hot breath fans across your cheeks and deep breaths pass his plump lips as he stands just inches away from you. Being this close to him is too intimidating for your liking. You're trying your best to keep your stance, but your knees are quaking, and your heart is pounding so hard that you can hear it.

But the closer he leans in, the quicker your heart begins to race.

“How about now?” He whispers over your lips, just a hair’s width away from brushing over them. Instantly, your eyes flutter shut, inhaling deeply to regain your composure and to get a grip on your sanity. If you let yourself go for one second, you’ll fall into him – but that’s what he wants.

“Mhm,” you repeat, too afraid to open your lips in fear they’ll touch his. Not because you’re scared to kiss him, but because you are too damn stubborn to be the one to kiss him.

You feel a gust of air push onto your lips as an airy chuckle leaves his mouth, “Cute.”

You swear your heart skips a beat when he says it, how he says it. His voice is low and seductive, dripping with lust and drawing you in, capturing your attention though you aren’t even looking at him. But even still, you're immersed with the thought of him. The predicting thoughts of the feeling of his lips on yours, and the soft texture of his light brown hair as your hands card through it.

It’s getting harder to hold back and stand your guard each time a soft breath lands on your lips. The sweet smell of his cologne overwhelming your sense of smell as heat from his body radiates onto you.

But suddenly, you find yourself not holding back any longer; your will power rapidly decreases as his hands rest on your waist. And when he tightens his grip around you, it's game over.

That strength you’ve been gripping onto for dear life is gone. Your lips crash into his in a heated kiss, his mouth instantly moving steadily against yours. They’re so much softer than they look, his pillowy lips encasing yours while his hands pull your body tightly into his own. His tongue soon traces over your bottom lip before he catches it between his teeth, tugging on it slightly in a way that drives you wild.

A stiffness forms beneath his shorts, pushing right against your body as he pulls you into him. Arousal quickly floods between your legs at the feeling, a needy moan vibrating past your lips and onto his. You’ve waited too long for this, the whole summer aching to feel his body pressed up against yours like this. And now you can barely hold it together just from a passionate make-out session – you’ve already soaked through your bikini bottoms, and he’s barely touched you.

But once his fingers find the hem of your shirt, you know this isn’t the furthest it's going to go. Internally, you’re singing praises, thanking whatever higher power allowed you to be in this position and this very moment.

And just when he’s about to pull away and rip the clothing off your body, he remembers where the two of you are. Quickly, his hands leave your body as he races over to the shack window. You roll your lips into your mouth, savoring the taste of him on you as you watch him reach for the heavy overhead door to shut. He closes the metal gate with a rough grunt, the slam of the door onto the countertop echoing through the small hut. And just like that, the room is filled with darkness, only a tiny beam of sunlight making its way through a small window in the back.

The sound of footsteps shuffling back in your direction calls you back in. Jimin’s figure appears again in front of you, the small amount of light peeking into the hut bouncing off his slender form. He’s just inches from you, but the sexual tension in the atmosphere feels like a million pounds weighing down on you.

Jimin’s hands reach back for your top, pulling it over your head in one swift motion. He wastes no time removing his own shirt, your hands effortlessly reaching out for him, running your fingers down his defined torso. His skin is hot, whether it's from the temperature outside or the building heat within him is up to your interpretation – but you’d like to think of it as the latter.

As he leans back into you your heart flutters, the now-familiar feeling of his breath washing over your lips comforting you.

“Fuck,” Jimin hums over your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

His hand wanders down under your thigh, gripping the muscle while lifting your leg with his strong arm. His body presses into yours, feeling the rough outline of his cock through his swim trunks right over your core. You’re dripping; arousal seeping right through the thin fabric of your bikini bottoms and onto your cotton shorts that do absolutely nothing to conceal your desire.

He can feel it for himself once his fingers graze down your body, finally meeting the flimsy fabric covering your core. Jimin’s digits flatten across the area, dragging them across your slit ever so slowly, making you shudder at his touch.

A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as he applies some pressure, pressing and rubbing your clit through the material of your shorts. You let your head fall back, bucking your hips into his hand to feel more, but the layers between you keep you from getting what you desire.

You’re too needy for his touch, unable to withstand much teasing before crying out for him. “Jimin,” you whine, “stop teasing me, please.” Your voice is high pitched and drawn out, begging for him to just rip the remaining clothing off your body.

“Hmm,” he hums, satisfied with your begging. “Tell me what you want.”

A knot forms in your throat, desperate enough to keep begging, but your pride prevents you from letting any words out. Your body language should be enough, pressing yourself further into him and raking your fingers up his back and running your fingers through his hair to try and entice him.

“With your words,” he says firmly, stopping the movement of his hand over your core. You keen into his touch, letting your head fall onto his shoulder as you’re unable to look him dead in the eye. Not while you’re so desperate and needy for him, and not before you’re about to admit it.

“Jimin,” you whine again, dragging out the last syllable of his name for greater emphasis. “Want your fingers inside me.”

He smirks in response, satisfied with your words. “Already so wet for me,” you shiver as a deep, lust-filled voice leaves Jimin’s lips, his fingers slowly pulling the fabric of your shorts to the side. It sounds different from his normal voice; usually light and airy, something you could pick out of a crowd. But this was a whole different Jimin – one that you certainly like.

The cool air meets your soaked core, giving you a quick chill. Instinctively, you lean into him, the shiver running down your spine as his fingers begin to circle your entrance making it hard for you to stand up straight.

But all you can focus on is his erect member now rubbing against your thigh as the pads of his fingers smeared the wetness along your slit. Your eyes are sewn shut, your head digging deep into his neck as your only supporting leg quivers.

You’re so sensitive to his touch, it’s becoming difficult to control your body. Your eyes are closed so tight you can see stars dancing behind your eyelids, just focused on the feeling of his fingers dancing along your core. As his fingers work their way upwards, a high pitched moan leaves your throat. It catches you off guard once he begins rolling your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly, making you keen over in pleasure.

“Fuck, Jimin. Feels so good,” your fingers grip the roots of his hair, tugging and pulling at it to ground yourself. But once his lips begin moving over your neck and his hand supporting your lifted leg tightens, you can’t help but let out a wanton moan.

You find yourself grinding down onto Jimin’s fingers, needy for more of him, and yearning to feel him inside of you. You’ve already asked once, you already feel like you could come right now and he hasn't even been inside you yet.

He can read your body language well, bringing his fingers to trace the extent of your slit back until they meet your entrance once more. Swiftly, he dips two fingers into the arousal that's pooling from your core. Finally. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth as just his digits carefully caress your walls. The slow movement of his fingers plunging into your depths takes your breath away in an instant.

The bulge rubbing against your leg is doing nothing but teasing you. Each time his finger slides in and out of you he ruts into you, begging to be touched. You pick up on this, snaking your hand between your bodies to palm at the evident cock outline he's sporting. A sudden gasp leaves his lips at the feeling, his eyebrows raising in succession as his cock jumps in your grip.

His movements stop as you squeeze his member, now unable to focus at the task at hand with you teasing him like this. A rough grunt leaves his lips, removing his fingers from your core instantly. You immediately feel empty and bare without them inside you. So your jaw drops, confused and ready to ask what his deal is – but Jimin has other plans.

His hand holding your leg up quickly leaves your thigh. You don’t even have time to react before his hands are gripping your waist, spinning your body around, and bending you over the desk as he steps behind you. Air is sucked out of your lungs as your chest meets the wooden desk, cheek pressed onto the hard surface as Jimin harshly grips your hips.

“Such a tease,” he shakes his head, one hand coming down to leave a playful slap on your ass. You wince in reaction, the quick tinge of pain turning into pleasure. Arousal floods from your core as his hand rubs over the affected area, soothing the skin over the material of your clothes.

Jimin’s fingers loop themselves over the waistband of your shorts and under your bikini bottoms, tugging them downward. He doesn’t bother to even take them off fully, just shimmies them halfway down your thighs so that he has full access to your dripping pussy.

He’s quick to slide his swim trunks off his body, his fully erect member springing from the confines of the fabric. Your heart is pounding in your chest, heaving as you try to catch your breath. But he’s not one to wait, wrapping his hand around his shaft and pumping it a few times before lining it up at your entrance.

You brace yourself for his length, but it doesn’t come. You’re desperate, arching your back in attempts to push him inside of you, but he just shifts his weight backward.

“Ask nicely.”

His voice is stern; teasing but direct. Rolling your eyes, you give in, unwilling to play another game of cat and mouse while he already has you bent over and ready for the taking.

“Please Jimin,” you moan, “please fuck me.” Leg bouncing impatiently as you wait for him, he lines himself up with your entrance once more. The light pressure of his tip pressed against you makes you stir, bouncing your leg in anticipation as your hands look for something to grip onto.

A steep gasp passes through your lips as his cock slides itself into you; your velvety walls squeezing the veiny ridges of his member as you take him in. He’s thick and long, his length continuing to push into you until you’re filled to the brim.

You can’t help but clench down on him as you adjust to his size, your walls squeezing his thick cock as he bottoms out his thrust. A string of curses leaves his lips as your walls squeeze around him from every angle. The arousal spilling from your cunt coats his cock deliciously.

Jimin’s hands quickly find their place on your hips, holding you steady as he begins to rock backward. His cock slides in and out of you slowly but forcefully. He makes sure to bottom out each time, taking his time to pull out and then slam himself into you with such force.

“So fucking tight,” he moans, his thrusts beginning to quicken in pace. Your arms extend before you, gripping onto the edge of the desk to keep yourself steady. His powerful thrusts fail to subside, the force he rocks into you causing his member to prod your g-spot.

The sounds of his skin colliding with yours and the deep moans echoing from his throat fill your ears. Soft whines bubble past your lips with each thrust, his power shaking you and the desk underneath you.

Smoothly, Jimin’s hand reaches downward, snaking between your legs and gathering your arousal on his fingertips. His fingers graze over your clit gently, immediately making your body jerk in reaction. Slight pressure is added by his hand, soon to make a slow rubbing motion.

“So...close…” you manage to get out while you pant for air. You can feel a knot tightening in your stomach, threatening to snap if he keeps on like this.

“Cum on my cock, princess” he groans, teeth clenching as you squeeze tightly around him. The pet name is what gets you, your walls already beginning to spasm as he applies more pressure to your clit.

Euphoria takes hold on you as you release, your vision becoming fuzzy as your body grows limp. Jimin pushes you through it, his fingers continually moving over your throbbing bud as you release over him. Your legs shake, the strength of your orgasm so strong you lose all control of your body. His name leaves your lips like a mantra, chanting it over and over with curses intertwined.

It takes you a bit to come down, oversensitivity quickly setting in as Jimin’s trusts continue. His fingers are more gentle now, lightly toying with your clit as you do your best to try and swat his hand away. But you’re too lethargic, too drawn out from your orgasm that took all your strength away from you.

“One more,” he says, “doing so good for me.”

And soon enough that familiar knot in your stomach was making its way back to you, if it ever left in the first place. The repetitive tap of Jimin’s tip deep inside you has you so far gone; your pussy clenching and unclenching around him completely out of your control.

But it's getting to him too. The added lubricant of your orgasm mixed with the squeezing of your walls around his cock is bringing him close to his own end.

“Gonna...come,” he moans, his hands leaving your overstimulated clit to grip onto your hips. The pace of his thrusts quickens, his brow furrowing deeply as he focuses on chasing his high.

All it takes is one powerful thrust, and you were coming undone around him once again. “Fuck, fuck!” You nearly scream, pushing back into him to meet his thrusts, helping him through an orgasm of his own.

The everlasting sensation of bliss takes over the both of you. Jimin’s thrusts grow languid and sloppy, his torso slowly falling on top of your back. You lie like this for a moment, letting him collapse over you and feel the heat of his body radiate onto yours. It feels nice, close having him inside you like this while his arms wrap around you in silence.

“We should've done this sooner,” his voice breaks through the quiet room. A small smile forms on your lips as you internally agree, showing him with a nod of your head.

Slowly, he stands up, pulling out of you and leaving you feeling empty for the second time today. A mixture of your and his cum dribbles out of your cunt, Jimin noticing and quickly swiping it up with his finger. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, watching his movements closely to see what he’ll do next.

Swiftly, his hand finds its way to his mouth, his digit slipping past his lips as he licks the juices from it. Your jaw drops in reaction, his finger leaving his mouth with a soft pop of his lips.

He notices you gawking at him, raising his eyebrows as you suggestively in response. “I’d like to try it right from the source next time.”

A slight chuckle leaves your lips, in disbelief while still being very turned on. “Next time.” You hum, liking the sound of that as it leaves your mouth.

“There will be a next time, won't there?” Except his question comes across as more of a statement, his tone firm and gestures sturdy while he reaches for his swim trunks to pull back up.

You follow his actions, standing back onto your shaky legs to pull your swimsuit bottoms and shorts up in one quick motion. There will definitely be a next time.

#bb2020 #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #btswriterscollective #smutcentralnet #magicshopnet #bangtanhq #cypherwritersnet #kpopuniversenet #jimin x reader #jimin smut #park jimin #jimin fanfic

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ghost-flakes · 4 years ago

Text

liminal

summary: you decide to sign up for what you think is a date night auction for some spare cash.

pairing: kurogiri/reader

word count: 2,665

notes: AU, no specific setting. not beta read and different than how I’m used to writing. hope you enjoy!

★ written for the Citrus Dome Collab - check out other entries here!

★ also posted on AO3!

warnings: mentions of sensory overload (not related to bedroom activities), intimacy, no smut.

The stage lights were blinding and hot. They seared into your skin and made the edges of your vision fuzzy.

You felt like the very act of existing was generating sweat and you prayed that your makeup would hold.

Not that you really wanted to be in this situation, now that the reality of it was setting in, but it was a matter of principle.

You were looking for some extra cash on the side and a friend of a friend had mentioned an auction night that was coming up that paid handsomely. You had thought that it was a date night type of auction, but once you saw the auction location (a revamped warehouse), you weren’t so sure.

You miiight have glossed over the details the event organizer had told you about in favor of speculating about where, how, and why he chose to go around in a purple suit. But somehow, he made it work?

Before you knew it, you had found yourself trussed up in sparse but elegant clothing, just this side of revealing. A hint of skin here and there, enough to catch the eye but not so much to compromise your modesty. (However much you had left at this point, anyway.)

You tried not to think too hard about how efficiently you and the other participants had been prepped, but trepidation clung to the edge of your senses like stubborn cobwebs.

As the auctioneer introduced you, you let your gaze travel across the room, taking in your potential companions for the night. They were a strange assortment.

The mildest seemed to look like salarymen - one man with a very long, pointed nose that was oddly familiar. A man wearing an accordion mask, whom you guessed must have had some sort of yakuza ties, as he was flanked by three others and the whole group was given just a little extra space. A couple of other masked men (seemed like there was a theme tonight), a lizard man, a stapled patchwork man.

A rainbow of hair colors scattered far and wide.

Golden wisps streaked across the back of the room before your attention was stolen by a couple of women who were sharply dressed and no less intimidating than any of the men.

The room’s overall vibe was barely restrained anticipation, but underneath that was a strong warning: fuck around and find out.

Oh boy, did you not want to find out.

If their quirks were half as exotic as their looks, you’d be torn to bits in minutes. What a morbid thought for what should have been a lighthearted, wallet-fattening evening.

Sure, the house took a hefty cut, but the hope was that the winning bid would be high enough to make it worth it.

Depending on how this turned out, you’d either start buying lotto tickets weekly or swear off gambling for life.

You saw the auctioneer gesture toward you with a flourish of his hand. Showtime!

You smiled demurely and ducked your head coyly in an attempt to hide your expression. Paired with a measured bow, hands in front, held for just a little bit longer - you felt the air in the room shift as you put yourself in the care of the audience.

The display of vulnerability was like blood to sharks. The room exploded into action, with a near constant fwip of rustling material as guests raised their paddles to bid and the auctioneer egging them on further.

You quickly became dizzy from the thought that so many people would be bidding for your time. The room suddenly felt far too small for the amount of activity going on, and you could only wait for the final bid to land.

The room was getting louder as the bidding became more heated. You heard the clatter of a chair as someone scrambled on top of a table as if it would help them bid harder. Other patrons cried out in protest, only to be quickly put in place by a sharp reprimand from the auctioneer.

This didn’t do much to keep the room from steadily approaching a fever pitch.

The higher the numbers, the more pressure you felt.

You were still stuck in place, sweltering under the stage lights, praying that the highest bidder at least had a kind heart so you didn’t have to spend your earnings on therapy. Or a hospital visit.

It was slowly dawning on you that the crowd seemed more than a lil’ shady but it was far too late to back out now.

The auctioneer’s voice got louder as the bid got higher. Everything was moving too fast and you stopped actively listening in order to try not to get overwhelmed.

You heard what sounded like the bang of a gavel against a podium (how absurd, this wasn’t a courthouse), before a disgruntled hush fell across the room. Looks like bidding was over. You saw the man who had climbed onto the table drop to an unhappy squat as he tossed his paddle on the floor in disgust. You would have laughed if you weren’t afraid.

You turned toward the auctioneer and watched his face as he spoke. You only caught part of his sentence “-- come up and collect your date for the evening, you lucky man.”

You saw someone cross the room, followed by glares from the rest of the patrons. As he got closer, you could see that he seemed to be made of fog. Or was it mist? Either way, it was a rich purple, constantly ebbing and flowing to an unknown rhythm.

He stopped at a polite distance and introduced himself, his voice calm and low. He already knew your name, thanks to the auctioneer.

He offered his hand to you and waited. You hesitantly approached, and placed your hand in his. It felt cool, but broad and firmer than you expected. You couldn’t place the texture - something between velvet and mist.

While you were mulling over the feeling of your hand in his, he opened a warp gate and guided you both through it.

What a way to reveal a quirk.

On the other side was the inside of a small house - traditionally built but with some modern accoutrements and a little worn around the edges - but most importantly, quiet.

It was a wonderful reprieve after the cacophony of the auction.

You both shucked off your shoes before entering the living room, where he guided you to sit at a low table. A teapot and cups were already waiting for you.

You watched curiously as he served you before himself, unsure what to make of any of it.

The auction, the man, the house, the tea. The sheer amount of money he had spent on a night with you. You could easily be set for a couple of years with how much he had shelled out, and yet here he was, hosting you with patience and care.

You still had no idea what he wanted from you.

The steam from the tea lazily floated into the air. Kurogiri’s mist undulated at a different pace - a little faster - the plumes of his fog curling into each other at the edges, like small whirlpools.

Was he nervous?

You looked at his eyes, and saw that he had been watching you just as intently.

Somehow, the connection was comfortable. It was rare to find someone you could sit in silence with without needing to fill the space.

You watched him curiously as you sipped your tea, waiting to see what would happen next.

He excused himself for a moment and left the room. Even the sound of the shoji door sliding shut sounded gentle.

You let yourself sink into the peace of the room while you waited.

Whatever would happen, would happen, but you could try to get some enjoyment out of it. Your practicality combined with your bouts of recklessness certainly landed you in some odd situations. Your good fortune let you slide out of potentially nasty situations just as easily as you got into them and you were sure someone out there was watching over you.

Some time later Kurogiri returned to the room and walked around the table to your side. He extended a hand to you again. You unfolded yourself from your sitting position and accepted his aid.

He led you out of the sitting room, down a short hall and to another room. You could smell moisture in the air as you approached, but couldn’t see past Kurogiri’s frame.

Once you got to the room, he stepped out of the way and gestured for you to enter.

You did so, and once you had crossed the threshold of the room, you heard the door close behind you.

You looked over the shoulder just to reassure yourself that the door was closed, before looking around at the rest of the room.

OK, there was a sink and a toilet, no surprises there.

You moved into the adjoining room to discover a shower, accompanied by a large bathtub, filled with warm water and beckoning to you. There was a light fragrance wafting through the air, something earthy yet soothing.

There was a fluffy bathrobe laid out to the side.

Alright, you got the hint.

You disrobed and quickly showered, not wanting to waste any time that could be spent soaking in the tub. Once you settled in the tub, you felt your muscles warming up and all tension (and reason) escaping. You leaned against the back of the tub and let your eyes flutter shut.

You thought you heard Kurogiri enter and exit at some point (his passing only revealed by the sound of the opening and closing of the doors) but you couldn’t be bothered to look.

When you finally deigned to open your eyes, you noticed that your clothes were gone. Was he really going to wash them for you? Man, this guy’s hosting skills were above and beyond.

By now, the water had cooled off, so you slowly rose out of the tub, as if wishing could warm up the water. The tub had been the perfect size - no need for bathtub gymnastics or body parts sticking up out of the water like mountain tops, laid bare and chilled by the wind.

You reluctantly left the tub and dried yourself off before wrapping yourself in the bathrobe, which was the softest thing you had felt in your life. Would it be a faux pas to ask him where he had gotten it?

You saw that slippers had been left out for you and ignored them. You preferred to feel the polished wood of the floor underneath your feet.

You made your way out of the bathroom, and wandered out into the hall. Before you could venture too far out, Kurogiri approached from the opposite end. The streaks of his eyes were curved up a little. Was this his version of a smile? Combined with his vest, tie, and neck brace being gone, it made him look surprisingly vulnerable.

You got the impression that this was a rare sight and were both flattered and honored.

As he led you to yet another room, you noticed that you could feel no dust or debris underneath your feet. He or whoever had cleaned the house had done an impeccable job. The amount of attention that went into the care of the house and the graciousness that had been shown to you during your stay made something in your chest stir. Sure, this was an extremely odd situation to be in, but not a bad one, so far.

He stopped in front of another shoji door and slid it open carefully. You felt as if this would be your final destination for the night. Kurogiri bowed his head and then gestured for you to enter first. You beamed at him and then stepped into the room, wiggling your toes against the tatami. You heard him close the door before feeling his presence behind you.

A quick look across the room revealed an austere bedroom. A bed, comfortable and low to the ground, a couple of lamps, your clothes neatly folded and resting by the side of the bed. Somehow, seeing them there made you feel reassured.

“You may change if you like.”

You turned around and looked up at him as you thought about what you’d like to do.

“I’m okay like this.”

He nodded, and you suddenly felt shy. Was it bold to stay in a bathrobe? Somehow, you didn’t want to change into your clothing - it felt like things would suddenly become more formal and distant.

He moved toward the bed and waited. You realized he was waiting for you to get in first. Your stomach clenched as you felt a bolt of fear pass through you and you took a slow breath in to steady yourself.

You climbed into the bed and moved towards the center at the side farthest from the headboard to give Kurogiri room to maneuver and knelt. You watched him climb into the bed. The sight of him looming over you for a brief moment changed the fear at the bottom of your stomach into something else.

Kurogiri reclined against the headboard and patted the bed next to him. You noticed that the cuffs of his shirt were unbuttoned. His shirt was still buttoned up all the way.

You crawled up the bed toward him, careful not to let the bathrobe slip and reveal anything, and gingerly settled down next to him. You tentatively leaned against him, and he wrapped the arm closest to you around your shoulder. You settled in closer to him and your head ended up in the crook of his neck. The casual intimacy made your heart race.

You looked at the curve of his neck, watching his mist slowly form and rise up into the air before seeming to disappear. Could you disappear into him if you got too close? But no, that was a silly thought. His body, though lacking clearly defined edges, was definitely solid beneath and around you. He was both warmer than you expected and slightly cooler than you wanted.

You leaned a little bit closer, careful not to brush your nose against his neck and breathed in. He had a pleasant smell - it reminded you of a shrine in the forest. A hint of incense and trees, refreshing and sacred.

You felt his head lean against yours and did your best to relax despite the strangeness of the situation. His mist tickled against your hair. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the gold streaks of his eyes almost disappear. He slowly shifted to angle his body more toward you, and caressed the side of your body with his free hand. He was careful not to stray too high or low.

You felt something inside of you shift with the tenderness of the gesture. It asked for nothing more. You felt the edges of reality become a bit fuzzy, like you were somewhere between the waking world and a dream. You sunk deeper into this feeling and felt Kurogiri relax next to you, as if he were going through the same thing.

He continued to touch you gently - how much time passed, you did not know. You began to feel streaks of desire light up through you, like shooting stars passing gently across your body. You did your best to ignore them, not wanting the moment to end or change. Kurogiri’s hand stopped moving and settled against your hip. You knew his hand was bigger than yours, but it felt even bigger curled around your hip. You felt the warmth of his touch as it slowly bled through the bathrobe. You took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled as you willed yourself to settle down.

You felt Kurogiri shift as something in the air changed, but all he did was place a tender kiss on your forehead.

#citrus dome collab #bnha #kurogiri x reader #ghost.writes

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brotherbeastus · 3 years ago

Text

Call Me By Your Name

Original Fiction by Danielle Summers as Inspired by Lil Nas X

Don’t all good stories start with a butt plug flying through the air? thought Craig as he caught the metal object just before it hit his head.

He looked around the dance floor. No one was looking for it or even at him. They were lost in the dance and the rhythm of the music.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The beat never stopped and neither did he. He danced along with them while the butt plug got warm in his pocket.

And then it got warmer.

Sweat rolled down his cheeks. Sweat rolled down his hairy chest.

The butt plug pulled down on him until Craig could dance no more. His legs became heavy, and he fell to his knees.

The men on the dance floor faded away. The music got quiet until he heard nothing.

He took the butt plug out of his pocket. The silver metal glistened in the lights. He looked at the reflection in the mirrored surface, but it wasn’t his, at least not the one he remembered. He only remembered ugliness, but the face he saw was young and virile. It was unscarred by life.

A bead of sweat fell off his forehead, landing on the butt plug’s tip. He wiped it away, and the plug started singing to him. The dance floor filled with song again, but this music did not thump. It wrapped around him like silk.

He missed his fellow partiers.

There was the muscular shirtless man who always made eye contact but moved away if Craig moved in closer. The thought of him made his dick get a little harder.

He thought of the man who once kissed him on his nipple only to never be seen again. He had been so beautiful, and Craig’s dick got harder still.

“They’re all here waiting for you,” the devil whispered in his ear. “I saved them all. Let me save you.”

The devil kissed the tip of the butt plug and licked up the bead of Craig’s sweat with a long forked tongue.

“You belong here too.”

Craig was scared. He wasn’t surprised he was here.

Scratch that. He was surprised.

He had always been told this was where he would end up. The only way to escape that fear was to stop believing that either heaven or hell existed, to stop believing in anything.

When his heart had stopped, he still believed in nothing. He gave away his faith because it was too painful.

“I don’t believe you,” said Craig to the devil. “I don’t believe in you.”

The devil gently kissed his forehead. His lips were hot and soft.

“I’m scared,” said Craig as he pulled the butt plug close to his chest.

“You need what I have.”

Another bead of sweat fell from Craig’s forehead. The devil caught it and rubbed it into his chest.

“What do I do with this?” Craig held out the butt plug.

“You embrace it. You own it.”

The devil vanished in a puff of smoke leaving Craig with his dick half hard and a butt plug he didn’t know what to do with.

“Oh, but you do know.” Those words came in a whisper that cut through to his soul.

He pulled off his shorts. He threw them into the air, and they vaporized in a burst of red flames.

Naked, he reached back to his ass. His finger circled his hole and teased his tender flesh.

He felt the smack of a paddle on his right ass cheek and then the left. He remembered all the times he bent over for someone, or they bent over for him, ass in the air begging to be fucked or spanked or flogged.

He remembered a candle that his husband had first fucked him with and then burned so the wax dripped over his flesh.

Oh, that was a wonderful night. The memory made him fully hard.

He pushed a finger into his ass and let loose a moan. The men he had known flickered in and disappeared once more. They had disappeared from his life one by one until he was alone.

He didn’t want to be alone any more.

He fucked himself with one finger and then another until he was covered with sweat and his cock dripped with pre-cum. The butt plug sat on the floor in front of him.

Its song got louder, and it started to glow.

He pulled his fingers out of himself and grabbed the butt plug. He pushed it into his ass. The men he had known flickered in brighter and faded more slowly.

He put his hands around his hard cock.

He jerked it until a pool of white jism was on the floor in front of him.

The men returned, and they stayed.

Strong arms pulled him up from his knees.

Someone kissed him.

Someone pulled out the butt plug, and Craig gasped.

“I’ve waited for you for so long. I’m glad you’re here,” said the man in front of him. A light appeared illuminating Craig’s true love, the man he had let get away as life moved on.

All his lost loves appeared and surrounded him. They were lost no more. 𖤐

Danielle Summers has an exclusive offer for the readers of BROTHER BEASTUS. Her book, 5 Easy Chocolate Pieces, A BDSM Love Story, is available from Smashwords. Usually retailing for $4.99, use coupon code LK34P to get it for $2.50 (50% off!). Offer valid only at Smashwords to the first 500 & for a limited time.

BROTHER BEASTUS 𖤐 GRIMOIRE saw this first

#grimoire

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skullrock · 4 years ago

Text

the campers, chapter four - Steve x Reader

gif by @harringtown

chapter four: the routine

series summary: Steve gets a job as a camp counselor at Camp Know Where, intending on using the summer to discover himself. When things start to go wrong at camp, the only people that can help him are the Party, Hopper, and his mortal enemy - you. [Enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort]

chapter summary: The first week of camp is in full swing, bringing a few surprises with it.

warnings: swearin’!

word count: 4k (hehe)

a/n: this chapter encompasses the time span of a week so it’s a lil long and has some stuff happening but I hope you enjoy! things are spicin’ up but not like you’d expect! you can catch up on the series here! (ps Hop didn’t die in s4 because I said so <3)

===

Camp Know Where buzzes with excitement as the new campers file in on Monday. This is Steve’s first ever orientation - well, besides the one he just went through. He’s never been in a position like this, and he’s nervous as he checks people in. But it’s an easy job.

Until the Party walks in.

Steve stares at them all, mouth agape. El, Mike, Max, Lucas, Will - they’re all here, all carrying bags. Mike takes the lead, glaring tensely at Steve, as usual. Steve avoids him and looks at El. “Are you allowed to be here?”

She nods. “Hop’s letting me.”

Steve shakes his head and finds their names on the roster. He should have known, should have seen their names, but it’s actually a nice surprise. Well, except for Mike. But he’s happy everyone else is here.

“Where’s Dustin?” Lucas asks.

“Helping with move in.” Steve looks up. “Does he know you’re here?”

“It’s a surprise,” Will says, beaming.

“That’s nice,” Steve says slowly. “Well, don’t be dickheads, okay? Don’t make my job harder for me.”

El shakes her head, but Mike scoffs, “You’re a counselor?”

Steve gestures to his shirt. “Did you think I just disappeared for the past two weeks?”

“I hoped so.”

Max hits his arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

They all step past the table, and Steve puts his head in his hands. They’re gonna kill me, he thinks. A part of him is really happy they’re here, though. He’s not sure if that means he really is fond of them, or if he’s just happy that he can keep them safe here. He straightens and continues helping others check in, directing them to their cabins.

You come up a while later, suppressing a smile as you approach him. He looks flustered, perfected hair now a mess. His cheeks are red and his brows are furrowed as he tries to figure out how many more kids are left to come in.

“How’s it going?” you ask.

He looks up and smiles softly. “So great.”

“It’s not all this boring,” you explain. “Or stressful. It’ll be fun soon, I promise.”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “You better not be lying to me.”

“What if I am?”

He thinks for a moment. “I’ll flip your kayak.”

You laugh - a loud, ringing laugh. Steve smiles, pleased to have earned it from you. He wants your friendship to go smoothly, he wants you to like him. After yesterday’s confrontation and subsequent confession of enjoyment, he was starting to think maybe it was going to work out. Maybe you both weren’t going to dislike each other.

You straighten, still smiling down at him. “I’d like to see you try, Steve.” You knock twice on the table he’s at. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Steve nods, and you linger for just a second longer before heading off.

===

Steve continues to surprise you through the first week.

Though you still don’t get the appeal of him, you notice that many of the campers love going to see him for their intramurals. And he’s really good at teaching kids how to dodge a ball, or serve, or kayak. You’d never seen nerds so excited to interact with a jock, but they were, and it was actually heartwarming to see. You watched from the sidelines on your breaks as Steve helped teach kids tennis and soccer, his face red from the sun but beaming. He’d pause to wave at you before continuing, and you had a hard time prying yourself away from the scene. It was like it was in his nature to be a teacher, to care after others - and you’d never really seen that in a preppy jock before.

You also never expected a guy like Steve, known jerk, to be so good at interacting with kids.

You’re walking along the shore before dinner on Thursday when you hear shouts coming from the lake. You squint as you look out before seeing the source.

Steve had taught the kids a new game on the kayaks. They’d pass a ball with their paddles back and forth, and if they could get the ball into the seat of their opponent, they got a point. It was probably extremely dangerous, but the kids had fun, and so did he. He was soaked to the bone after every game, but his face hurt from laughing, and that was enough.

You watch from the shore as he and three other campers play, and you shake your head. Another counselor, Mia, comes up behind you and laughs. “He’s pretty popular, huh?”

“Always has been,” you say, turning to face her.

“He’s nice to watch, isn’t he?” She stands on her tiptoes to look past you. “I could watch that man’s arms for days.” You roll your eyes, and she frowns. “You don’t think so?”

You sigh. “He’s just… Steve. I don’t get the appeal.”

“You’re the only one, it seems,” she says, smiling again. “What is he, your villain origin story?”

It’s surprising how accurate the phrasing is. “It’s complicated.”

She shrugs. “You seem to get along well now, at least. Put in a good word for me, yeah?”

Your words catch in your throat as she walks away.

Part of you does like Steve. You find enjoyment in him - he’s goofy, he’s funny, he’s kind, and he’s smart. But he’s also the person who made you cry every summer. He’s your childhood bully - how could you enjoy his company? You confuse yourself with your own feelings. It’s like mental gymnastics, trying to hang on to your anger and resentment while equally wanting to like him.

You shake your thoughts out of your head and walk off the shore, away from Steve and his charm.

===

The week ends on Friday, leaving everyone exhausted. The Party kept Steve busy when he wasn’t leading intramurals, draining him fully of his energy. They were going to watch a movie with Suzie in one of the recreation rooms, leaving Steve by himself. He was worn and tired, sunburnt and hot. But he still jogged up to you when he sees you after dinner.

“Y/N!”

You whirl around to face him, a friendly smile crossing your face as he comes up.

“Hey,” he says. “Haven’t talked to you in a while.”

“Just since Monday.”

He shrugs. “Felt like a long time.”

There’s a silence before you clear your throat. “How was your week?”

A wide smile spreads over his face. “It was amazing!”

You let him gush, because you’re genuinely interested. He tells you about how easy it is for him to talk to the campers, how he created Kayak Ball (“still working on a better name”), and how he’d made some friends with other counselors. Which leads him to ask, “Are you going to the bonfire tonight?”

Shit.

The annual First Friday Bonfire was tonight, and you’d forgotten all about it. It was usually a very spiritual experience - people would write stories from their past, things that bother them, share it to the group, and then burn the paper in the flames. It was like a reawakening - fire is cleansing, after all. Just last year, you’d wrote about the Steve standing in front of you, hair disheveled and grinning dorkily. You burned the paper and went on with your life.

You never expected he’d be here. It’s a bit mind-boggling.

“Yeah,” you say. “Are you?”

“If you are,” he says, suddenly uncertain. “I don’t really know -”

“Steve, everyone here loves you. You’ve made friends.” You hope the bitterness you feel isn’t being translated into your tone. “You can hang out with these people. They like you.”

He nods, frowning. “I know. It’s just….” He sighs heavily. “I’ve never had people… like me before.”

Your stomach falls as you remember what he had told you about - how he hadn’t talked to Tommy since junior year. These were the first adults he had interacted with in years; he was bound to be nervous.

“I’ll be there.” You reach out and squeeze his shoulder. “But you don’t need me. Everyone here thinks you’re incredible.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the only thing the girl counselor cabin talks about.”

You see a blush creep up his cheeks. “Really?”

You don’t want to indulge him - you shouldn’t indulge him - but you do. “Every girl here has the hots for you. Maybe even some of the boys.”

Steve’s breath catches. “Every girl?”

You stare at him awkwardly. “Well - n… no, not every girl, but - enough.” You feel embarrassment creeping hotly through your veins. “Not - not me, if you’re thinking -”

“No, no,” he says, just as awkwardly as you. “No, I know that.” He smiles slightly. “You hate me.”

A smile turns the corners of your lips. “Yeah. I hate you.”

“Right.”

A long and awkward silence ensues before he says, “Yeah - okay. I will see you tonight.”

===

Hours later, you saunter over to the counselor bonfire, located right off the shore of the lake. It’s a beautiful, clear night - a slight breeze rustles the trees and the fire licks the stars. You’re a bit late, and Steve’s nervous that you won’t show up. Despite this, he is literally surrounded by the female counselors, who are eagerly asking him about himself.

“Jesus Christ,” you mumble as you approach.

“Look who it is!” Josh shouts out as you near. “Y/N, we’ve been waiting for you.”

“You shouldn’t have,” you say dryly, entering the circle.

Steve pats the log beside him - he had saved you a seat. With all these girls surrounding him, he saved you a seat. He had to tell them, “hey, don’t sit there, it’s reserved,” while he waited for you to show up. It’s a sweet gesture, one that sends your heart beating a little too fast for your liking. You sit beside him, giving a tight lipped smile.

The girls all smile at you, as if it’s all some type of game. And you know why they’re so amused - you had dramatically cut them off each night when Steve would be brought up. You’d throw a pillow over your head and shout at them to just shut up already. They thought you weren’t immune to his charms, just as they weren't. You roll your eyes at them.

Josh hands you a piece of paper and a pencil. “We’re doing the burning ceremony in a few.”

You take the paper and pencil from him gently, sitting it on your lap. Beside you, Steve is clutching his paper tightly to his chest. You bite the inside of your cheek as you think about what to write down - you’d already metaphorically burned Steve last year. You simply write down my past with no elaboration, intending to feed everyone a fake story and then throw it into the fire.

Steve himself didn’t need to think very long about what to write down. His biggest regret was the way he had treated people. A nauseous jerk tugs at his stomach when he thinks about high school, when he thinks about Nancy and Jonathan, when he thinks about the mask he always hid behind. He’s reminded of it every single day here with you - memories that he can’t quite touch but that he knows are there. The feeling of guilt when he looks at you, at the way your brows furrow and eyes narrow at him. How, even now, the pleasantries hide behind past aggression.

He doesn’t blame you.

And maybe, perhaps, burning a piece of paper will make him feel better. It’s not much, but it’s more than he’s ever done.

You listen as everyone goes around and tells their story. Some talk about relationships, or mental health. Each story is met with support from the circle, almost like group therapy. When all comments are said, the paper is thrown in, and everyone claps and cheers as it burns. You can sense that Steve is getting more and more nervous as he gets closer to talking, and you wonder what’s on his paper.

When it’s your turn, you stand up. “I wrote down my past.” You clear your throat. “Uh - I’m not proud of who I used to be. I used to be so quiet and shy. But I’m happier now, and louder, and I’m not afraid of the space that I take up.”

Steve’s eyes burn a hole into your side as you tell your story. He remembers the girl you’re talking about. He remembers how quiet you were, always minding your own business. And his chest hurts when he realizes that he’s probably why you were that way.

It takes a lot of strength for you to not side-eye him.

Everyone tells you that they’re proud and you throw the paper into the fire, sitting back down and crossing your hands over your lap. There’s a tenseness between you and Steve, but no one realizes the connection.

Steve stands, his hands shaking. It takes him a second to find his voice.

“Um. Well, when I was younger - not younger, just a few years ago - I was a jerk.”

You tense up, staring intently into the fire.

“I was such a dick. I made the worst decisions and the worst friends. I used to follow the crowd, because I thought that’s what I had to do to make them like me.” He licks his lips and takes a deep breath. “And I knew it was wrong - I knew it was - but that’s not an excuse. I let it go on for too long, and I hurt a lot of people. And that really kills me each day.”

You squeeze your hands together.

“I’m trying so hard to not be that person anymore, and I’m glad that I’m not. I got away from those people and I found better friends. Friends who believe in me and like me for me.” He clears his throat and sniffles. “But I’m so worried that I’ll turn back into that person again. I know there are people who will always know me as that person, and that sucks.” His eyes land on the top of your head. “But not as much as it sucks for them, I’m sure.

“I’m just ashamed,” he continues. “I wish I could change what I did. I wish I could make everyone believe that I’m not that guy anymore. I wish I wasn’t so scared. Most of all, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Everyone’s silent. Steve asks, “Do - do I throw it in now?”

“No,” Josh says. “Uh - wow. I don’t even know where to start.”

Steve feels the shame creeping into his chest again and bows his head.

“First of all, man, you’re allowed to change. You can change, and it’s obvious that you did,” Josh says.

Steve looks up, shocked at the validation.

“Yeah,” Nico, Steve’s roommate, interjects. “Dude, you’re one of the nicest, goofiest people I’ve ever met.”

A few yeahs echo around the circle.

“And it’s a good sign that you regret what you’ve done,” another girl, Emily, says. “That shows growth.”

You sit tensely, feeling cold in front of the fire. You know he’s talking about you. And you know he means what he’s saying.

You interject a few moments later. “What matters is that you’re trying to change. That’s the best you can do.”

Steve looks down at you, brows furrowing, but it feels like a weight has lifted off of him, freeing him. Feels like his collar bones aren’t cracking under pressure. His eyes are soft and filled with tears - he wasn’t expecting any of this.

You swallow hard, feeling your own tears swelling in your eyes. “And I think that - I think that it’s obvious you aren’t like who you were before.”

Never in your life did you think you’d say that, and never in Steve’s life did he think he’d hear it.

A few people agree, reinforcing that it’s okay for him to be ashamed, but it’s okay for him to grow, too. It’s a bit much for Steve, who makes a strong effort to not burst out into sobs. You can’t meet his eyes yet, but when he sits down after throwing the paper in, you reach for his hand and squeeze it. It’s more than the truce at the breakfast table - it’s an understanding. It’s forgiveness. It’s comfort. It’s friendship. You decide to truly, finally swallow your past, let the flames do their job, and embrace the new Steve.

Your hand leaves after just a second, but he understands the message, and you both smile the rest of the night.

===

It’s Sunday night now, and you’re doing rounds. It’s a little after one in the morning. You check on every cabin to make sure kids are asleep and safe, then decide to sneak a dip in the lake. It was a cool night, but the water was calling. You approach the pier but stop when you see another body already sitting on the edge, shoulders slumped.

You can tell despite the distance that it’s Steve, and you can tell that something’s wrong.

You make your footsteps loud so he can hear you coming, and you take a seat on the wood beside him. The lake is bright from the moon, and it illuminates on Steve’s sullen face. “You okay?”

He nods softly. “I just wanted to take a walk,” he says, but his voice cracks.

You frown. “Is that all?”

He doesn’t answer for a long time, but you can see that his cheeks and eyes are red and swollen. Finally, he whispers, “I had a nightmare.”

Steve had awoken in a sweat, kicking his sheets off of him and gasping for breath. It was another dream about the Upside Down, and it hit him unexpectedly and hard. Nico had stood over his bed, worry etched onto his face, asking Steve if he was okay. Steve brushed it off and said he needed to go on a walk. When he slipped outside, he cried, hugging himself as he walked to the pier. It was the brightest spot at camp, the only place he felt safe. He had learned the lake like the back of his hand in three week’s time, had found a home in it, and he went there to pull himself together.

A nightmare was a bit of an understatement - it had felt so real. He went weeks without one, happily, assuming the distance from Hawkins was helping. It was disheartening to have one here. Embarrassing, too. He wonders if Dustin or any of the kids had been having them.

The anguish on his face and cheeks is apparent and you whisper, “Hey,” taking his hand and squeezing it again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head numbly. He would like to talk about it, but knows he can’t. “Just a stupid dream.”

You frown. “It’s not stupid to feel scared.”

Steve sniffles. “I know.”

“But do you know?”

Steve stills, eyebrows knitting together again. “I… it’s hard to feel like it’s not stupid.”

You nod. “I know how you feel. Well, at least a bit.”

“Do you have nightmares?”

“No,” you whisper. Your thumb absentmindedly rubs over his. “But I have anxiety. And I know how it feels to think it’s stupid to feel that way.”

Steve nods. “I just kind of… push it down. I try not to bother people with it.”

“You’re not bothering people who love you for talking about it. Have you told Dustin?”

“Yeah, but… he’s got his own problems.”

You nod in understanding. After a few moments of silence, you say, “You can talk to me.”

He laughs solemnly. He wishes he could talk to someone about it. Someone outside of the people who were there, or outside of the shrinks that Doc Owens had recommended. Anyone with a new perspective. But he can’t, because the person he’d confide in would die, and he really doesn’t need that on his conscience. That’s not something you could burn in a fire and forget about.

“I’m serious,” you say. “I can help.”

Steve kicks his feet back and forth in the water for a few minutes. Then he looks over at you. “How do you stop being anxious?”

“You don’t,” you say, laughing. “It just gets easier to hide. But having friends helps, and loving yourself helps.”

“I don’t have either.”

You elbow his side gently. “You have friends, Steve. And I’ll be damned if you don’t like yourself by the time you leave here.”

He’s quiet again, then says, “It’s really hard for me to think of people as friends. It’s hard to think that people actually want to hang out with me. Tommy and Carol used me for money and an empty house.” He shrugs lazily. “The attention just feels so… superficial now.”

And it makes your heart ache, because maybe that’s why he won’t give in to the girls here. He thinks they don’t like him for him - they only like him for his looks. Even if he wants them to like him, if he wants someone to love, it’s hard to accept it. The realization ignites an odd anger in you; he doesn’t deserve to feel like this.

“Maybe,” you whisper. “But at least you’re aware of it, right?”

He nods and shrugs again. “I guess.”

More silence.

“Your speech on Friday…,” you say softly. “It meant a lot.”

“It didn’t have to -”

“But it did.”

He swallows and turns to face you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” you say, rubbing his thumb again. “I forgive you.” You smile. “For real this time.”

He smiles, too. “Apparently, since you can’t stop holding my hand.”

You retract it quickly, holding it to your chest. You didn’t realize how long you’d been holding it, and you blushed deeply. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“You sure?” he grins. “Because someone told me every girl here likes me.”

You kick water towards him and he laughs, kicking back. You’re happy to see the light back in his eyes.

“So Kayak Ball, huh?”

“It’s the next big thing.” He seems proud of it.

You hum. “So I’ve heard.” You splash water towards him again. “You gonna teach me?”

Steve laughs incredulously. “You want to learn?”

“Yeah,” you smile, shrugging. “Maybe I can stop by tomorrow on my break.”

He smiles widely. “You’re gonna get your ass kicked.”

You push up and reach out for his hand, pulling him up with you. “Let me walk you back to your cabin, okay?”

“You don’t have to -”

“I don’t want you to get lost in the woods.”

You walk together in silence, but Steve feels comforted. Like maybe he could go back to sleep when he lays down instead of worrying about dying.

“Hey,” you say when you approach his cabin. “Um… Mia? She wanted me to put in a good word for her.”

“As in?”

“As in, you should sit with her at lunch.” You wink. “She’s one of those ‘every girls’ that likes you.”

His eyes widen and then he smiles, shaking his head. “You mean it?”

“No, it’s a prank.”

He laughs softly and shakes his head again. “Well, thanks for the tip.”

You smile and nod. When you turn to walk towards your cabin, you say, “Goodnight, Steve.”

He waves after you. “Goodnight.”

===

taglist (join here!): @troop-scoop @therealestdookie @jasontoddisfantastical @mybestfriendthedingus @anonymousonion23 @darth-el @unknownherelm @random-thoughts-003 @metuel18 @dark-academics-and-florals @magicstrengthandcourage @mathchampagne @magnitude101999 @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @sunshine-and-riverwater @dark-academics-and-florals @scooprtroopr @heart-eye-harrington @sourapplebaby @comedy-witch @mochminnie @thatkidofwarandpeace @lukeskisses @ssanjuniperoo @harrington-ofhawkins @write-from-the-heart @yazmin626 @bravest-at-heart

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #the campers #this chap is truly horrific but what can u do truly!

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lilac-gloss · 5 years ago

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Hair we go

Yandere Jin x reader (part 2)

MASTERLIST

If you haven’t read part 1 then feel free to check that out first! This is the final part to the Hair we go! story. Hope you enjoyed and seeing as it was my first story and feel free to let me know how you found it.

An imagine highly inspired by the video of Jin cutting his own hair, it’s kinda like that if Jin repeated that but as a yandere :)

Synopsis: A simple solution to being in desperate need for a haircut but not wanting to leave the house? A diy haircut! But what happens when the tables are turned and YN is receives a haircut by her captor? *complete fluff, I promise it is not a ominous as it sounds*

Warnings: a lil bit of angst but fluff on the whole

YN sat on the same stool as Jin went to find a brush to detangle her hair. Her anticipation left butterflies in her stomach. Her trust for Jin was unchallenged, she knew he found pleasure in washing, brushing and playing with her long hair so she was sure the length would be maintained. Her heart ached for a change, following her capture her life has become monotonously routined as Jin has only just began his break so she had previously been left to her own devices for months at a time. YN sat quietly as Jin de tangled her hair, running the paddle brush section by section down her glossy black hair. Sitting down the ends exceeded her sitting position and touching the stool seat. The ends of her hair were thin due to her not having a haircut for months and Jins regular insistence to play with it. She felt him take a section of hair, pulling it down to ensure it was straight and snipping off the section. “How is this baby?” Jin smirked knowingly, sensing your nerves, he waved a chunk of you hair in front of your face. You weren’t too sure how long your hair had gotten but the size of the chunk began to make your heart race, it was easily 12 inches of hair. Your previous confidence began to falter, if Jin loves your long hair would he stop loving you if you had anything other. Your eyes began to cloud as your mind raced with thoughts, you needed Jin and you knew you couldn’t live if he didn’t love you. Jin noticed your distress as he started to pick up the next chunk, a slight pleasure arose at the expense of your teary eyes. “Hey, what’s the matter baby?” Jin muttered softly. “N-n-nothing jinnie im sorry I’m just being silly,” yn gasped between tears, her sobs becoming deeper by the second. It took a moment for YN to explain her concerns and Jin listened. Internally he thrived on the knowledge of her dependence on him, the fact his love and opinion of her immediately reduced her to a blubbering mess fed his need, but he knew she needed comfort to allow him to continue. After coaxing her out of the tearful state after his strong reassurance that she was always beautiful in his eyes. He lived for the control he had, he wanted to cut her hair as a symbol of his power over her. He continued cutting carefully, measuring each section identical to the last and weaving the scissors through the pieces. Jin stepped back to ensure the haircut was even and YN moves her hand to her own hair. Combing her fingers through the remaining length, it stopping prematurely to her previous attempts. She looked down noting her previously straggly thin hair sat at her shoulders, the ends thick and luscious as a result of seokjins work. Seokjin lifted yn up, taking her place on the stool and placing her on his lap, leaning his back on the sink edge. Yn curled into him lovingly, she was yet again reminded of how she should trust her Captor unconditionally. His hands moved into her newly short strands, lulling her head closer to his. She moaned into his kiss as his soft pillowy lips met hers. The overwhelming power seokjin felt was only encouraged by her desperation for his touch. He would try to pull away teasingly but she would bridge the gap between their lips. “You are beautiful baby girl,” Jin praised. He deepened the kiss as he stood up her legs still wrapped around his waist, carrying her to the bedroom he placed her down on the bed, resuming their day of lazing.

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peachyykira · 10 months ago

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🏓

#before i was hospitalized back in september i had ordered a paddle with a lil heart cut out #it was in my mailbox when i came home and since then its sat in its packaging on my dresser #but today i was cleaning a bit and i took it out and tested it finally and omgggggg #i liiiiike #just me doing it on my thigh not super hard left a nice lil red mark #i think i need some more practice to get a full heart though #but its sooooo louddddddd 🫣#anywayssssss #excited to use it sometime (or maybe hace it used on me 🥺)#this feels vulnerable somehow so all in tags 🤪✌️#talking peach

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itsakpopalypse · 5 years ago

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Kim Sehyoon : Astrology ask- How he would be romantically

“hii 😊 can you do an astrology reaction like chan’s but with Sehyoon? thank you so much in advance!”- @naomik1999

Of course ! glad to do so !! Here you are ! I hope you like it !

A/N there will be 18+ included below the cut !!

Okay !! Starting with pure fluff and explanation of his overall chart

this baby

oh my god he is so precious

okay so we know he is a Taurus sun

but did you know he has a LEO rising?

lowkey means he has this strong confident presence that intimidates people yet draws them in

he is so lively and interesting to watch that you are like👀👀

and he seems like he would be outgoing on first glance

but his sun and moon balance out that strong firey energy SO beautifully

with a Taurus sun he is somewhat more calm and will have a very steady aura

like you get near him and feel more grounded just for it

beautiful fixed earth energy in action let me tell you

as you know fixed tends to mean unmovable and it is lucky for him he has a more mutable moon or that would eventually cause conflict

his instinct is still probably to dig his heels in but he will come around quickly

let’s talk what a Taurus sun means for his relationships

ever met one? they are . so . Cuddly by nature,

Maybe not first meeting someone but when they he becomes comfortably used to a person he will go at the hugs and physical affection with his whole chest

expect

forehead kisses (oh my god im sofft)

hand holding

picking you up for absolutely no reason except that he wants you c l o s e r

tend to be very physical, artistic and sexual by nature.

so expect lots of touch

please take care of his heart he is not going to want to express it in words but Taurus’s are soooooo easily hurt.

they are slow to anger so don’t expect any fights really

he will be logical and intelligent

but if you do fight he may take a while to cool down after

Pisces moon.

i have said it before I will say it again

SO MANY FEELINGS

okay so with Pisces especially in moon this means a few things

sensitive

they give people SO many chances to break their hearts

you will have to be so supportive

he will need to be held sometimes

you might be the lil spoon

its cute

but we know he thicc thicc

so you know it’ll probably translate to him laying his head on your thighs and staring up at you with stars in his eyes

because he is so s o f t for you

Pisces moon is so romantic

he will be constantly trying to make you smile because it will be his whole world

god the PAINTINGS he will do of and for you

Sehyoon is so deeply artistic and he expresses himself through his art

so especially with the Taurus sun being a hindrance on putting his feelings into words he will find a way to do it through his art

expect lyrics and paintings

he might do your nails when they are chipped

try to learn how to do your make up and hair

he is so affectionate i am getting so soft

i don’t normally mention it but his Mercury is notable

since his mercury is Taurus it means he will be practical, and very

very

dexterous

that will come back in the 18+ section i just needed to put it out there cause BIG OOF

his venus is Aries, venus controls how one reacts to love relationships of all kinds

Aries is a dominant sign so yes, Sehyoon is a soft man full of emotions who is a bit shy, but expect that once he knows what he wants he will go for it

he will probably be cautious though, as a true Taurus always is, so he will probably try to figure it out through your friends before he directly asks you out

drops hints for a short while before just being like

then blush like mad and giggle and hide his larger frame behind Byeongkwan who totally is there for emotional support don’t @ me

He will peak out and say something complimentary or just random and then when you begin to answer he will decide to rip the bandaid off

“I like you a lot can I take you out please?”

Cause he is a gentleman okay

will then find so much time for you

naps

he will cuddle

big spoon sometimes but I see him as more of a lay you down full bodied on top of him so he can feel your lips pressed to his neck and you can have soft whispery conversations like that

will kiss the top of your head between words

ask questions that seem strange’

but he just wants to know everything about you

because he wants to understand how to make you happy always and that’s the best way for him to do it

analyze analyze analyze

dates will be pretty quiet and chill

he will do whatever you want because he doesn’t need to be in charge of those things

he would be the sweetest most boyfriendy boyfriend the world has ever seen and you will honestly constantly be amazed (hes not even my a.c.e bias im just in my feels from his chart it’s so beautiful and cohesive)

His N Node is Sagittarius and this is notable because it will mean he is pretty adventurous with his love

that’s coming up again later too jot that down

okay and im gonna ramble cause he is so so s w e e t please

will not stop talking about you to the members

guys did you know that my S/O is ….

the most WONDERFUL person in the world???

they are like yes you told us that 10 mins ago and will likely tell us again in 10 more minutes

S P I C Y time

istg it was so hard to pick a gif there are so many sexy gifs of this man LAWD

WOOOP let’s get to it 👀👀👀

I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW

everyone calls him a SERIOUS KINKY DOM

and I won’t say that ISN’T there…..

what I will say is it isn’t likely his GO TO

okay I will explain

his Aries rising and venus means he will have some FIREY dom-y moments

but his Pisces and Taurus placements will tone it down a bit

now if you are INTO that he is happy to please

but just expect that on occasion he wants you to make him weak

have you seen any dance ever that he is in the man goes from powerhouse to trembling in the grasp of another

black and blue fancams do yourself a favor if you haven’t

okay star stuff again

this man

is so affectionate. his hands are EVERYWHERE always

he will time things incredibly well

remember when i talked about the importance of his mercury being Taurus too??

yeahhhh

so this means he is amazing with his hands

expect thorough teasing from him

this is not a drill

he is going to make you cum at least 2 times before his cock comes near you

i don’t make the rules

have you seen his tongue??? hands vs tongue I am thinking he is going to do both but there might be times where he does one or the other

he loves loves loves

to hear moans

not so much a praise kink but damn it does stroke his ego

he wants you so incredibly blissed out that you don’t even think about what noises are coming out of your face

h i p control

the dancer hips on this man honestly I cannot continue because im going to burst into flame lawd

we’ve all seen the package so while he is not lacking in size by my estimation, he is also SO precise

O V E R S T I M

okay so just cause he isn’t a ‘dom’ always doesn’t mean he isn’t always kinky

he is kinky

i do think he is a BIT more into pain play than some of the other members would be but I don’t think he’d go for anything that is TOO rough

spanking with a leather paddle is a yes, anything too much harder is a no

he just wants you at peak pleasure the whole time and he LIVES to know he is the one doing it

What can I say Aries are low key ego driven and he will use your pleasure to make him feel like a god or demon in the sheets

and that’s fair cause he likely is one

remember that Sagg north node? yeah that’s back

adventurous

so expect some bondage both ways

he would love for you to put a blindfold on him and make him experience everything through touch

will let out the prettiest whines but also will be so in to it

loves to be teased but will never ask you to reciprocate oral unless you’re doing character play

if he HAPPENS to be domming well watch out cause he is damn good at it.

biting

yeah that’s a thing

honestly as a rapper i see him having a huge oral fixation

there will be times he will leave a box on the bed with lingerie and you will see a note telling you to put it on and come to the bedroom

and when you come out he is going to LAVISH you in attention

unwrap you like the best gift he has ever recieved

that thing his eyes do where they darken and he looks like he could get you on your knees with a single word

yea that too

but instead he just strips you and doesn’t miss a single inch as he explores you with his tongue and teeth

WHEW

not a lay down the rules type of dom

maybe one or two but mostly he just wants to control and move your body for your own pleasure

on the flip side when he wants you in control its like

he has had a hard busy week and he is stressed

so he will give you a hint he wants to be babied

will get your attention and make it clear but probably be too embarrassed to ask outright

but when you do lord he will be so pleased

ride his face or his cock he’s good with either he just wants you to touch him and body worship him the way he does you

that is when praising him will work in your favor

but not just by telling him how hot he is

he wants you to talk about how you love him

where you love him

what he does to your soul and bare it for him

those deep conversations which could be had over coffee but if you are kissing your way down his body he will not be able to stand it

he is so in love and it shows

hey bouncing out of that think of this

artist Sehyoon puts down a tarp one day and stips you naked. he begs you to let him paint you and he does, but not on a canvass

no he has body paint and his hands are the brush and he literally covers you in him so viscerally and emotionally

it starts beautiful

a color here and there outlining things he thinks make you so unique

you’ve got stretchmarks? scars? moles?

he amplifies these and makes you see your “flaws” as as beautiful as he sees them

full length mirror in front of you once you are enhanced he grips the base of your neck gently in his hand from behind and meets your eyes in the mirror

his hot wet whisper in your ear that this

this was the peak of his creativity

that he would never be able to replicate on any other format the beauty he sees in you

and somehow even though it’s this beautiful sweet moment his eyes do the thing and you know you are in for it

expect the flutters to turn to fire as he puts a bit of pressure into that hand, just enough to get your attention. you know what comes after

expect to be much messier by the end and hes throwing out whatever clothes he bought tbh

aftercare isn’t gonna be a thing much

he works hard on you and he is tired

will cuddle forever after you will be gross and he will not care showers and cleanup are for after he has had his NAP

*I hope you enjoyed it!! feel free to send more requests anytime! I love peaking at these charts and delving in !

#kim sehyoon #wow a.c.e #a.c.e #a.c.e7 #kpop fanfic #a.c.e fanfic #ace fanfic #a.c.e scenarios #astrology #kpop astrology #kpop asks

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years ago

Note

Please write more of Dove and Harry ? You’d earlier written in ne where she gets lost and Harry can’t find her…. Please some more like that. I really like reading protective Harry for his kids especially daughters!

HARRY HATES A CERATIN PINK BICYCLE BUT DOVE THINKS OTHERWISE :D

Harry has never been this stingy towards things. You don’t hold a beef with stuff round you, right? You hold beefs with actual hell of people who're mighty pests in the name of human being.

But, this. Oh damn this. Four wheeler little pink bicycle, that have sparkling pom-poms around it’s handles, a cute yellow basket corked to it's front and rainbow coloured cups hanging from the back of it’s seat that cackles whenever the wheels roll.

It’s the most obnoxious transporting vehicle, Harry had seen in his whole life. He's kind of grousing in the corner that why out of trillion of toys auntie Gemma had to prove herself the best aunt in the whole world alive and chose this hideous gaggingly pink bicycle.

It just doesn’t makes sense to gift it to a three years old! And when that three years old’s a headstrong little thing, with wilfulness of her daddy and the marbles of kitten in replacement of those eyes.

“Daddy we’ll ‘ve fun, promise!” Her ‘r' vanishes into a whistle since she’s still wary onto speaking huge words, babbling her daddy’s ears off with random shite doesn’t count.

Sometimes Harry thinks; that his 50 years old mum's prisoned and captured into a dainty body of three years old -- and his time has come to get bossed around and scolded for his own good sake.

His mommy in the guise of his little dove.

“How’s tha’ missy!?” Harry squints down at her with his hands fisted on his hips. His fake scowl breaks into a fluttery smile when dove with her grubby pudgy hands pushed the bicycle around, her boot clad feet stomping against the hardwood floor, “Like this daddy!” Her chest heaved from getting tired of pushing it around in circles.

“Y'gonna put y’old man to labour?” When she sees her dad’s strictness resolving into contemplating the idea she squeals out giggles making Harry flinch and cover his ears, He’s sure he’ll end up deaf in his fifties.

Harry feels his chest warm and gooey with fond when she jumps on her tippy toes and wraps herself around Harry’s calves.

“Kay, teddy bear enough of butterin’ dada up.” Harry grunted through his nose ducking down to scoop her up in his embrace and she instantly loops her arms around his neck, her button rosy nose twitching with happiness as she patted his cheek with a toothy grin.

Harry shook his head at her brains, his eyes closed and lips thinned while he tries to announce it to her in the most dramatic way.

“Why’re you the way you’re dovie? He sighs and her response doesn’t baffles him any, “’Cos you.” She whispers into his ear as if it’s the most secretive thing in the world getting his cheek and earlobe wet with her drool.

“Yeah, cos' ‘m your inventor. My bad.”

That’s how they ended up here in the living room since Harry’s still hesitant and scared to let her ride the bicycle outside.

She makes sweet and loud kissy noises dangling her feet in a rhythm messing the already bombed up curls of Harry while he puts protection pads around her knees, he leaned more onto his shins adjusting the strap of her helmet and pinched her chin to make her look at him.

“Hello baby –..,” He opened his mouth to give her instructions when she cut him off with a cute whiny huff and the fold of her arms round her small body, “Daddy ‘m no baby.” Harry rolls his eyes towards the ceiling and bats his lashes.

“F'me you’re.” He tuts with a coo and took her wrist gently to help her slide down the sofa before she could possibly terrorise him more, sometimes Harry has this aching urge to laugh at her statements but it’s not right to his lil bean so he does it when he’s alone to not to hurt her feelings.

She refused any kind of guidance from him with just a single gesture of her palm (he doesn't know how she manages to behave like a 30 at her 3) and he ended up helping her wiggle her bum up the seat anyhow, “Hmm. Y'already know the deal dovlin'.” He knocks on her pink helmet which has tiny cows on it.

She bobbed her head and puckered her lips, Harry being her best telepathic communicator gets the sign and forwards his cheek for her to kiss it.

“Love y'daddy.” Her affection for her dad muffling against his stubble and in droopy voice he mimics her with bright teasing eyes, “wuveee you daddy.”

“Back to work!” Harry commanded moving towards the end of cycle and squeezed her neck tenderly before pushing her around and giggles happily when she squealed out in utter thrill.

“Weeeeeeoiiii!!” Harry joins her putting aside the fact he was very against it moments ago, but the little fun does no harm, right? He did think so.

It has always happened to him in this particular order whenever the things gets into their happy track a downfall is always written for them, just like the time when dove got sick and wouldn’t get any better taking her to hospital got crucial only for them to come back to their family being there for them her grandma and auntie Gems were their to get her recover but she got sick again.

“Alone!” She grumbles trying to move Harry’s hands away but he grips it tighter, “’M big!” She complains feet reaching for the paddles that took a swing.

“Hands on handles!” Not in a mood for her to throw a tantrum after such exhilarating moment Harry dismissed her off with a bit of frown, “Hands on handles! Hands —--,” He shouts anxiously heartbeat racing painfully against his ribs and he feels time slowing down as he watches dove losing her balance – but – puffs out in relief when she thumps against the sofa.

“Shit!” He cries out when the cycle tumbles along dove and falls on her, the poor baby didn’t even got time to process what's happening before the metal basket hits her bottom lip and her elbow hard.

Harry’s fear reeling infront of him, deafening him for a moment.

Immediately, He throws it away from over her half assed about where it lands and bunched her in his arms protectively. Cradling his sweet baby’s face in his palm and his eyes watered up at the bleeding lip and more abrasions on her elbow.

He sucks in a whimper when she tries even not to sniffle being a brave girl for her dad and goes to wipe his tears with her trembling lil hands, “It’s otay daddy.” Harry hiccups into her wrist smacking kisses upon kisses into her palm.

“’M sorry me lil dovlin'.” He sulked wiping his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie and kissed her forehead.

It physically pains him to see his Dovie hurt, it makes him sad till long hours.

Call him sensitive but with Dove he’ll never able to hold his tears back, she pulls onto his heart strings the most agonisingly, she comes before anyone else and her safety too.

“No cry.” She pushed him away and pouted leaning to peck his lips and Harry giggles when she wipes the subtle blood stain she got on his mouth with a sheepish smile, “Lets fix your boo boos honey pot.” Harry gave her a weepy smile and pet her head taking them to his room.

He’s really surprised and well very proud that she was so brave for him, in times like these Harry realises if nobody got him his daughter’s gonna be there for him always.

“’M really reallyyyy proud of you sweet pea.” After putting Dove's favourite rapunzel bandages on her gashes Harry showers her in kisses that are loud and exaggerated but full of pride and love for her, making sure to do ‘mwah!’ at each one.

Harry made her chicken nuggies and let her drink orange juice (even though it gives her an achy throat) she’s such a good little briber.

She’s all snuggled in his bed, her face hidden in his chest out of shyness as Anne asks about her accident with a sad pouty smile.

“You gotta be careful next time okay sweetie?” Anne told her. Harry groans when her head perked up with gleam in her eyes, “There’s no next time!” He quips making his point clear.

“Gran’ma you wan’ see?” She blubbers excitedly crawling out from under the covers but carefully Harry catches her ankle and tugs her back towards him which causes the phone to fall from her hands onto the floor.

The clumsy cutie.

“Oh Grandma, you otay????” Her curly head pops from over the mattress and the room fills with laughter at her innocence and dumbness, she's just three, you prick.

“My silly little bear.” Harry’s laugh fades into giggles while he settles her bum on his chest and cuddles her tightly into his neck despite of her whiny protests and squiggles to let her free.

#DADDDYYYY HARRRRYYY #DAD HARRY #YAHOOOO FLUFFIIIESSSSSSS #WRITING #cute harry #harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #fluff #harry angst #hsh #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot

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asras-hat · 5 years ago

Text

I want to get more into longer writing rather than short lil headcanons (I’ve written longer pieces before, but they’re really not my strong suit), so here’s my attempt at interpreting the scene between Asra and MC when Asra decided to leave town during the plague (MC’s POV).

I might be posting more stuff like this (and if you have prompts, hmu), so keep an eye out :)

The confines of my tiny desk in the Palace library are beginning to feel like a prison. Day in and day out, I toil here, fueled only by the vain hope of discovering a cure for the uncurable. The musty smell of faded books chokes me like a vice; the dappled light spilling from the stained-glass window is nauseating. Any hope I had of ending this plague has dissipated, chipped away like soapstone each time I despondently watch another tiny rowboat paddling its way to certain death across the harbor. I can’t see the Lazaret from my desk in the library, but by the docks the smell of charred flesh traveling on the sea breeze from the crematorium is enough to turn my stomach at the mere mention of the island. People working near the harbor have taken to covering their mouths with cloth to avoid the acrid smoke and all its implications. Whose family members are we inhaling today? Mine? Yours? It never matters in the end; we’ll all end up on the island eventually.

I don’t realize how much I’m squeezing my quill pen until it buckles in my hand, spraying my already-illegible notes with tiny spots of ink. An anger disproportionate to this inconvenience begins to build up in my chest, and after all this time I’ve finally had enough. With the jaw-clenching screech of metal on polished wood, I shove my chair backwards and clamber to my feet, ignoring the quizzical stares from my fellow researchers as I stumble gracelessly towards the exit.

After bodily shoving the sturdy door open, I’m greeted by the soft glow of hallway lighting that nudges its way through my hazy vision. I stretch out the crick in my back with a satisfying pop, glancing around the mercifully-deserted hallway. Shaking the fog from my head, I make my way through the winding corridors and, finally, out onto the streets of Vesuvia.

What once would have been a source of contentment – the smells of food vendors’ stalls floating through the warm summer air, the chatter of crowds walking by – now feel alien to me. The air is heavy with the scent of death, soot from the Lazaret collecting in every crevice of every cobblestone and board. As I glance around at the few passers-by, I size them up with a trained eye, gauging the likelihood of each contracting the Red Plague.

You… you in that red shawl. You’ll be lucky to make it through the week. It would be best to get your affairs in order, before it’s too late.

I cringe inwardly at my own detachedness, disgusted with myself as much as I was my surroundings. I was warned that dealing with death for too long would desensitize me. I suppose they were right.

I need to get to the shop, maybe grab a cup of tea to clear my head and pick up some spell ingredients while I’m at it. I can almost hear my aunt’s voice in my head, stern but kind as she regarded me over the flashing bronze frames of the glasses resting on her nose. Take better care of yourself, she’d say. Can’t have you going crazy on my watch.

I laugh softly to myself, shaking my head.

“I’ll do my best,” I murmur, allowing the corner of my mouth to quirk upwards slightly at the memory. “For you.”

This promise, though seemingly superficial (as its recipient was no longer around to hold me to it), guides my footsteps through the streets until I find myself standing outside the familiar façade of my and Asra’s shop. Pushing open the door, I’m somewhat surprised to find that Asra is home, rummaging through a drawer, his back turned to me.

“Asra?” I say, and he visibly jumps, smacking his head hard on a shelf full of glass bottles, which clink together noisily. I wince as he slowly and painfully straightens and turns towards me, one hand buried in his curls and most likely cradling a rapidly-swelling bump.

“Are you alright?” I ask, concerned. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I didn’t realize you’d be home so early,” he says, refusing to make eye contact, instead staring at the floor. “…Aren’t you staying at the Palace?”

“Aren’t you?” I counter. “Where have you been all day?”

I can practically taste the waves of guilt radiating from him as he bites his lip and continues averting his eyes. His guarded childhood days as an orphan sculpted him into a person for whom secrets are second nature, but as far as I’m aware he doesn’t often keep them from me, and certainly not with this much discomfort.

“Asra,” I insist. He inhales deeply before finally looking up at me.

“I think we need to leave Vesuvia,” he proposes. I furrow my brow, uncomprehending.

“Leave?” I ask. “What are you talking about? We can’t leave; they need us here.”

“You’ve seen the numbers, (MC),” Asra sighs. “Death tolls are rising every day. At this rate, one of us will get the plague sooner or later, and I’d rather throw myself into the harbor than see you suffer like that. The only way to escape this, truly escape, is to leave. We’ll go somewhere the plague hasn’t traveled yet. Nevivon’s safe, or so I’ve heard –”

I smack my palm loudly against the surface of the counter, cutting him off.

“Can you hear yourself?” I ask incredulously. “People here are dying. The Palace is relying on us – Countess Nadia is relying on us. You’re suggesting we just waltz out of here and find a new home?”

“Not a new home, but –”

“And what happens when two tiny plague beetles clinging onto your scarf jump off in Nevivon and repopulate and infect the people there? Will we walk out on that plague as well? Leave an apology note to Ilya for killing off his entire home city?”

“(MC)…”

“No, I won’t have this. You can leave, but I’m staying here. And when you find my festering corpse among the others, know that I died doing what was right. What we should both be fighting for.”

I turn to leave, but Asra clasps my wrist, his fingers pressing the glass beads of my bracelets into my skin. I try to shake myself free, but his grip is strong, and I resignedly turn once more to stare at him. His eyes are large and pleading, and I wonder for a moment if he’ll cry, but my heart doesn’t soften for him in the slightest.

“Please,” he begs, an edge of desperation creeping into his voice. “I don’t know what I’d do if this were the last time I spoke to you.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” I say. “Stay here. Come with me to the Palace and work with me on a cure. We can do this, together.”

He sighs miserably, loosening his grip on me and curling his fingers into the curve of my wrist.

“If only that were true.”

“Goodbye, Asra.”

Tears welling in his eyes, he tries to pull me in for a hug, but I push him away.

“Come and find me once you’ve changed your mind.”

I turn on my heel, snatching my bag from off of a table and walking out the door. I ignore Asra’s voice behind me as I storm off, and I can swear I hear a frustrated sob before the door swings shut behind me. Combing my fingers roughly through my hair, I set a brisk pace away from the shop, away from the marketplace, away from Asra. The sounds of the plagued city echo around me as I wonder whether what Asra said would ring true. Were those the last words I’d speak to him? I shake the thought from my mind, not wanting to burden myself with what-ifs. That could be a thought for another day.

#the arcana #the arcana mc #the arcana fanfic #the arcana asra #asra alnazar #the arcana game #arcana #the arcana nix hydra #the arcana fanfiction

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grapesodatozier · 6 years ago

Note

Can you please write a really hard core BDSM smut of Wheelzier, ‘m in desperate need

just a lil ~disclaimer~: this is not an instruction manual, pls do your own research if you wanna try any of this!!

try to count how many petnames richie calls mike lmao i lost track

words: 7,245

tags: restraints/bondage, spanking/paddling, degradation, choking, daddy kink, barebacking, aftercare, established relationship

read on ao3 or below!!

notsfw under the cut

Mike smiled to himself as hewatched Richie put away the last of the leftovers from their dinner; he wouldnever get over the swell of love he felt in his chest when he saw Richie doingsuch mundane, domestic things in their apartment - their apartment. “I love you,” he sighed as he walked into the room,pressing a kiss to Richie’s cheek and wrapping his arms around his waist.

“I love you, too, babycakes.”Richie grinned and nuzzled his face into Mike’s hair. Mike smiled to himself atthe nickname before spotting the sink full of water, suds, and pots.

“I can help you with the dishes,”Mike offered. He went to reach into the water, but Richie grabbed his wrist,stopping him.

“Be careful, there’s knives inthere,” he warned. But Mike barely heard him. He was too busy staring at hiswrist, at how big Richie’s hand looked wrapped around it. His grip was tight,and it had Mike’s pants getting tighter. He could feel how hooded his eyeswere, knew that he was blinking slowly, that he should probably say something.

“Okay,” he said softly. “Thankyou.” He looked up to find Richie smirking at him, a look that made him melt.“For, for telling me,” he stumbled over his words, trying and failing tocollect himself. Richie backed Mike up until he was pressed up against thecounter. He cupped the side of Mike’s neck with his free hand, a touch that hadMike’s lips falling open and his eyes falling shut.

“Oh, baby,” Richie murmured, hislips pressed to the other side of Mike’s neck, “you’re so easy. One touch andyou’re already falling apart for me.” All Mike could manage was a whimper. Heclung to Richie’s shirt with his free hand, his other still caught in Richie’sgrip. “Do you like when daddy grabs you, kitten?” Mike nodded. “Yeah, you likeit when daddy hurts you, don’t you? Daddy’s little slut loves to becontrolled.” Mike moaned and buried his face in Richie’s shoulder. “Aw, comeon, sweetheart, you know you don’t need to be shy,” Richie coaxed, kissing thesensitive shell of his ear. Mike slowly lifted his heated face from Richie’sshoulder to look up into his now nearly eclipsed blue eyes. “Do you want daddyto play with you tonight, babydoll?”

“Please,” Mike whispered, giving asmall nod. Richie kissed his forehead then led him down the hall, his handstill wrapped around Mike’s wrist. His grip was tight, steady, and it had Mike achinglyhard between his legs as he followed behind Richie to their bedroom.

Once they stepped through thethreshold, Richie let go of Mike’s wrist and began taking his clothes off forhim. “Let’s get these off of you, yeah?” he smiled. Mike held his arms up andlet Richie take over. Richie pressed his lips all over Mike’s skin as heundressed him, murmuring endless praises. “So pretty, baby. So fuckingbeautiful, and all for me. I love undressing you, baby, love seeing you.” Mikeput a hand in Richie’s hair to steady himself as he stepped out of his pantsand briefs, revealing his flushed and leaking cock. Richie, now on his knees,stuck his tongue out and grazed it so gently against Mike’s cock so that theonly contact he made was to swipe a bead of precome onto his tongue. Mikewhined, but Richie ignored him and stood up. “God, I can’t believe how hard youare just from me grabbing you a little,” Richie smirked. He took Mike’s face inhis hands and kissed him, rough and deep and dirty. Mike clung to his shirt andwhimpered. “I should smack you around a little, see if you come just fromthat.”

“God, please hit me, daddy,” Mikemoaned wantonly. Richie chuckled.

“First I gotta make sure you can’thit back.” He kissed Mike’s jaw. “On the bed, angel. On your back.” Mikeeagerly complied, assuming a position with which he was very familiar. Richiestood at the end of the bed and stripped his shirt off over his head, givingMike a clear view of his long torso, his freckled arms, and flushed chest. Itmussed his hair in a way that complemented the hungry look in his eyesperfectly. He smirked as Mike’s eyes travelled down from his chest to the darktrail of hair that stood starkly against his pale stomach and disappeared belowthe waistband of his boxers, visible above the top of his dark jeans which rodelow on his hips. Richie leaned over and pressed a few light kisses to theinside of Mike’s knee before rummaging for supplies under the bed. Mike stirredslightly in excited anticipation. Mike moaned when he saw that Richie didn’tjust have handcuffs in his hands, but a whole array of tools and toys that madeMike’s skin hot.

Richie smiled at Mike’s eagernessand draped himself over his boyfriend. Mike desperately clung to Richie’scurls, ran his hands over his shoulders, making the most of being able to touchhim while he still could - something Richie quickly picked up on. “You know, Idon’t have to tie you up if you don’t want me to,” he said knowingly.

“No!” Mike gasped, clinging to him.“Please, please tie me up, please, daddy.”

“Fuck, it’s so hot how bad you wantit,” Richie groaned. “You love being daddy’s little toy, don’t you, baby boy?”Mike nodded, his eyes wide. He fucking loved that, and he loved that Richieknew it, loved that Richie was happy to treat Mike the way he wanted to betreated. Richie kissed Mike’s neck, making his eyes flutter shut. He loved thecontrast of Richie’s soft lips against his neck and his rough jeans brushingagainst Mike’s sensitive cock. It all had him squirming, whimpering. “I lovehow sensitive you are for me,” Richie praised with a kiss to Mike’s cheekbone.He grabbed him roughly by the jaw then, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Are yougonna be a good boy for me? You gonna take what I give you like a good slut?”

“Yes, daddy,” Mike nodded. “Please,let me be good for you. Please hurt me, daddy.”

“Are you sure you’re ready, baby?”

“I’m sure,” Mike assured him with asmile. Richie gave him a soft kiss.

“Lift your arms for me, angel.”Mike happily did as he was told, Richie’s voice warm and soft around him, likea blanket, or a hug. Richie attached the bar to the posts of their bed, pullingit to make sure it was secure. He then took Mike’s wrist in his hand, pressingsoft, teasing kisses to the soft, thin skin there before wrapping his fingerstightly around him and securing his hand in the cuff linked to the bar. He didthe same on the other side and sat back, admiring his work and checking in onMike. “Feel okay, baby? Doesn’t hurt too much?”

“Feels good,” Mike assured him, thelight press of the cuffs making his heart rate pick up in the best way.

“Can you tell me our safeword,kitten?” Richie softly stroked his finger over the inside of Mike’s forearmwith one hand and traced circles over his hip with the other.

“Twizzler,” he answered obediently.

“Good boy,” Richie smiled, pressinga kiss to Mike’s lips. “You use that if anything is too much for you, okay?”

“Yes, daddy.” Mike smiled up at himsoftly; Richie took such good care of him.

“I’m gonna tie your legs up too,okay?”

Mike’s breath hitched. “Yes,” heagreed eagerly, his voice already breaking. Richie chuckled lowly at Mike’sdesperation, and the sound went straight to Mike’s throbbing cock. He trailedkisses up one of Mike’s legs before bringing it up toward his chest andsecuring a restraint around his ankle, one attached to a strap that afforded areasonable give while still keeping Mike’s legs suspended. Richie checked inbefore doing the same to the other side, leaving Mike’s ass and thighs on fulldisplay. Richie cursed lowly as he admired his work, running his handsreverently up Mike’s fair, trembling thighs.

“Everything feel okay, sweetheart?”

“So good,” Mike nodded, his voicealready near moaning. This was his favorite position; he loved impact play,loved being spanked, but what he loved less was that in most spanking positionshe couldn’t see Richie’s face. He and Richie were both thrilled when theydiscovered this one, as Richie could spank him while gauging his reactions, andMike got the see the way Richie’s eyes drank him in. It was the best of bothworlds - and it did wonders for Mike’s flexibility, which made everything alittle more fun for both of them.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Richiepraised, almost to himself, before pressing kisses along Mike’s thighs. Mikeshivered under the attention. It felt so good to be completely under Richie’scontrol, to not be able to shy away from his touch. “But you don’t want itgentle, do you? You want daddy to hurt you?”

“Please,” Mike nodded. He couldstill feel the ghost of Richie’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, so rough, socompletely in control of his movements. He wanted more, needed to feel thatagain. “Want your hands on me, please, please, daddy.”

“Yeah, I know you do.” Richiegrinned, grabbing Mike’s ass. Mike let out a small whine at just that. “Youlike when I take what’s mine. You like when I mark what’s mine.” With that, he spanked Mike’s ass. Mike moanedwantonly then, the combination of the pain and the fact that Richie wasspeaking definitively about what Mike wanted making precome leak onto hisstomach. “God, it’s so easy to leave you covered in handprints, baby. You lookso pretty all covered in marks.”

“Want more,” he begged, “please,please give me more.”

“God, you’re a desperate littleslut tonight.” There was a glint in Richie’s eyes as he lowered his headbetween Mike’s legs. Mike would never get tired of that look, that look of completearrogance and ownership that sent pleasure pulsing through Mike’s cock. Henipped lightly at Mike’s thigh, grinning at the way it made Mike squirm. “Youwant me to cover you in bruises, kitten? You want anyone who looks at you toknow that you’re a spoiled little slut for your daddy?” Mike nodded and beganto answer, but then Richie bit down hard on a particularly sensitive spot onhis thigh, making him cry out. Richie sucked hard on Mike’s skin, leaving adark purple mark that he lapped his tongue over. “Purple’s a good color on you,princess,” Richie smirked, leaving a similar mark on the inside of Mike’s otherthigh. Mike’s hips bucked futilely into the air, his neglected cock searchingdesperately for friction.

“Daddy,” he whined, body already thrumming.“Daddy, please, need you to touch me.”

“Oh, you need it, do you?” Richieasked, his voice taunting. Mike pouted and nodded. Richie sat up on his knees,towering over Mike. “I haven’t even spanked you yet, sweetheart. Isn’t thatwhat you wanted?” Mike nodded again, somewhat conflicted.

“Please,” he whimpered, “feels sogood, ‘m so hard for you, daddy.”

“I can see that.” Richie wrappedhis fingers around the head of Mike’s cock, making the latter gasp and let outa broken cry of pleasure. But Richie only kept his hand on Mike long enough togather up the precome that was leaking there, then swiped up the precome thathad gathered on his lower stomach. He brought his hand to Mike’s mouth,smearing his precome over his lips. Mike loved that he was helpless to it andopened his mouth eagerly. He wrapped his lips around Richie’s finger, meetinghis eyes as he sucked his own salty arousal off of Richie’s skin. He bat hiseyelashes coyly, smiling sweetly, proudly at the way Richie’s eyes followed themovements of his tongue, his dark blue irises nearly eclipsed by his dilatedpupils. “Such a good boy,” Richie breathed lowly. “You like tasting yourself?”Mike hummed as he wrapped his lips around the next finger, working his tongueover it purposefully. “Fuck, you look pretty with your lips all wet and pink.Such a pretty little slut, aren’t you princess? Getting off on sucking daddy’sfingers.” Mike moaned around Richie’s fingers, his eyes becoming hooded atRichie’s words. “You think I should touch you, baby? You think you’ve earnedthat?” Mike nodded eagerly, only for Richie to swiftly slide his fingers out ofMike’s mouth and slap his cheek. Mike gasped, his cock once again bobbing inpleasure, seeking more. The initial pain was followed by delicious, warm pleasure.“Guess I’ve gotta show your place then,” Richie tsked.

“I’m sorry, daddy, I promise I’llbe good for you.”

“I know you will be.” Richie smiledand kissed Mike’s reddened cheek. “You’re gonna be a good, patient little boy,and you’re gonna take your punishment like a good slut. Isn’t that right,babydoll?” Richie purred in Mike’s ear. Mike nodded and whimpered as Richiekissed his neck. “Use your words, baby.” Richie gave a warning squeeze toMike’s thigh.

“Y-yes, daddy,” Mike saidbreathlessly.

“That’s a good boy.” Richie gave asmall, playful smack to Mike’s ass before he reached behind himself and revealeda leather paddle. Mike moaned at the sight of it. Richie let it fall lightlyagainst his palm a few times, giving Mike a dark smile that had the latterquivering with want. Richie pouted, a teasing feign of concern. “Are you okay,sweetheart? You’re shaking.”

“I’m okay, daddy,” Mike assuredhim, “just want it real bad.”

Richie twirled the paddled slowlybetween his fingers, looking at it contemplatively. The movement had Mikeentranced - he loved watching Richie’s long, deft fingers, knowing that they’dbe in him soon, knowing that that paddle would be stinging his ass soon. “Idon’t know, baby. You don’t sound like you want it that bad.”

“Please!” Mike cried, pullinguselessly at his restraints. “Please, daddy, I want it so bad. Want you to hurtme. Please, please hit me daddy, please spank me. I need it so bad, daddy,please, please, please.” Mike was nearly tearing up at that point he was so desperatefor it. But he also loved it - he loved begging for it, loved how degrading itwas, loved doing what Richie wanted.

Running a hand lightly over Mike’sass, Richie asked, “Are you sure you’re ready for it, princess? You really wantit?”

“Yes, daddy, please, please, I want it-”

A loud smack sounded throughout theroom, followed by a shock that rippled through Mike’s skin. His head fell backin pleasure, his ass hot and stinging in the best possible way. “Yes,” he moaned, wriggling his ass,asking for more.

Richie soothed his hand over thesensitive spot. “What do we say, baby?”

Mike lifted his head and metRichie’s gaze with a smile and a “Thank you, daddy,” that was practicallydripping honey. Richie smiled back at him, eyes hooded, and ran his fingertipsslowly over the other side of Mike’s ass before abruptly bringing the paddledown there as well. Mike moaned again, his cock throbbing.

“You take it so well, baby,” Richiepraised, landing two more spanks to Mike’s soft, white skin. Mike wriggleddesperately, quickly approaching the point of being too turned on to speak. Thepain pulsed in his ass, sending pleasure to his cock, which was hard and longand leaking onto his stomach. Mike loved the paddle, loved the dull pain thatfollowed the heart-spiking initial sting. He loved how spread out the sensationwas, how it travelled. Richie traced his fingertips over the red marks beforegrabbing roughly at Mike again. “God, I love having my hands all over you. Doyou like that, kitten? You like being tied up so daddy can grab you any way hewants?”

“Fuck, yes,” Mike sighed.

“Yeah, you love when daddy takescontrol. Such a spoiled little brat. Daddy spoils his little princess, doesn’the?” Richie smacked Mike’s ass again, cutting off anything Mike would havesaid.

“You make me feel so good, daddy.”Mike’s voice was high and fragile, and his body was beginning to burn with theneed to be touched.

“Love making you feel good,sweetheart.” Richie smiled fondly at his boyfriend before nuzzling his faceinto his thighs. He pressed kisses all over the sensitive skin, intermittentlynipping playfully at Mike’s ass to see him squirm. “Do you want to make daddyfeel good, kitten?”

“Please,” Mike noddedenthusiastically. “Please, daddy, please use me. Wanna make you feel so good,‘s all I’m good for.” Mike fell so easily into begging; it felt so nice to fallinto submission, especially when it got Richie to smirk at him like that.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that’s all you’re good for,” he joked. Hecrawled up the bed so that he lay atop Mike and kissed him slowly, deeply.“You’re also really good for looking pretty.” Mike let out a high-pitched soundsomewhere between a moan and a sigh, and he smiled as his eyes fluttered shut,rolling back as pleasure prickled across his skin. “Aw, I know, baby, you loveit when daddy calls you pretty.” Mike looked up at Richie with wide, loving,completely submissive eyes. If he hadn’t already been completely at Richie’swill, he was then. Richie chuckled and pressed light kisses all over Mike’scheeks and nose and forehead and neck. “God, you’re so pretty, baby, such a pretty little boy all tied up for me.” Mikegasped and rocked his hips when he felt the tip of Richie’s finger brushagainst his hole. “You gonna help daddy feel good, baby?”

“Yes, daddy,” Mike whimpered.

“Such a good little boy for daddy,”Richie praised, his voice low and reverberating in Mike’s heart. Mike’s cheekswere warm with anticipation. Richie planted a few more kisses across Mike’sheated skin and a final kiss to his lips before getting up to retrieve thelube. Mike’s heart fell at the loss of contact, but he knew what was comingwould make up for it. He pulled almost involuntarily at his restraints as hewatched Richie slowly pour the lube into his hand and spread it around. Richienoticed and chuckled to himself. “Aw, are you excited to get fucked, princess?”

“Yes,” Mike moaned, a sound so wanton and lascivious he made himselfblush.

“Don’t worry, kitten,” Richie saidlowly as he circled his finger around Mike’s hole, “daddy’s gonna take suchgood care of you.” He slipped his finger in slowly, letting Mike really feelit. “Gonna fuck you nice and hard, sweetheart. But first I’ve gotta open youup, okay? Can you be patient for me?”

Mike groaned and rocked his hipsforward. He pouted when his motion predictably did nothing but make Richie pullhis finger out and smack Mike’s ass again.

“I said, can you be patient forme?”

Mike shuddered, Richie’s deep,commanding voice making him melt into the mattress. “Yes, daddy.”

“Do you have anything else to say?”

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

Richie slapped Mike’s ass again,harder than before, then pressed a kiss to the still-stinging skin. “Good boy.”He slipped his finger in again, all the way this time. Mike’s toes curled in pleasure,if a bit of pain as well. He soon adjusted as Richie slowly pumped his fingerin and out. When he looked down he could see Richie watching his own movementsintently, his eyes hooded as he watched his finger open up Mike’s hole. The wayhe licked his lips had Mike’s cock twitching indignantly. Just as Mike wasabout to ask for more, Richie slipped his finger out and spread Mike’s cheeks,his hands large and spanning across Mike’s ass, and replaced his finger withhis tongue. Mike let out a choked, surprised cry as Richie lapped at the ringof muscle, as he stiffened his tongue and thrust it in and out of Mike. Thepleasure had Mike rolling his hips again, chasing it.

“Daddy,” he whined, “please, I wantmore. Please, please give me more, want your cock so bad, want you to fuck me,please.”

Richie gave Mike’s hole a sloppykiss before playfully biting the skin of his ass. He then proceeded to kiss upMike’s thighs, his stomach, his chest, his neck, until he was nuzzling his noseagainst Mike’s. His finger glided back into Mike’s lube-slick hole as hepressed a kiss to the corner of Mike’s mouth. “Didn’t I ask you to be patient,princess?”

“But it feels so good, daddy,” Mikewhimpered with a pout. “I want your cock so bad, please, please fuck me,daddy.”

“Yeah?” Richie gave a cocky grin,his voice low and husky as he pressed another finger into Mike. He pressed themin deep, so deep it had Mike seeing stars. “You want daddy’s cock to fill you,baby? You want daddy to fuck you?”

“Please- oh, fuck!” Mike cried outas Richie hooked his fingers just right. He loved feeling Richie’s fingersinside of him, loved how easily he found that spot and kept his fingers there,massaging it just the right way to get Mike panting and whining uncontrollably.Mike loved it, loved how amazing it felt, like he was nearing the edge thoughhe knew he wouldn’t be coming any time soon. “Oh yes, oh god, fuck,” Mike moaned. The pleasure was sodeep inside of him, so intense yet so spread out. He wriggled in hisrestraints, pitiful noises falling from his lips.

“God, you sound so pretty, angel.”Richie pressed soft kisses to the inside of Mike’s wrist, right below where therestraints held him. All Mike could do was whimper. Richie’s fingers scissoredinside of Mike, stretching him out. “Just one more finger, then you get daddy’scock, okay?”

“Please,” Mike nearly cried, hisnerves on fire as Richie massaged his prostate in slow, deep, agonizingcircles. Richie finally inserted a third finger, making Mike moan from how fullit felt. He smiled to himself, knowing it wasn’t even close to what Richie’scock would feel like. Richie kissed Mike’s neck, making him shiver. Just asMike was settling into the leisurely pleasure of Richie lapping at hiscollarbone and slowly curling his fingers inside of him, Richie bit down hardon a sensitive spot on Mike’s neck and began fucking his fingers in and out ofMike at a brutal pace. Mike cried out again, and his hands grasped at the air,searching for purchase they couldn’t find. He just had to take what Richie gavehim - and that turned him on even more. Mike let out a string of moans, ajumble of, “Oh fuck, yes, oh fuck fuckdaddypleasepleasefuckplease,”that had Richie nearly growling in Mike’s ear.

“Fuck, you’re such a mess from justmy fingers,” Richie marveled. His voice was low, powerful, possessive as hecontinued finger fucking Mike fast and hard. “I can’t wait to hear what yousound like with my cock inside of you.”

“Please,” Mike whimpered again. Thewaiting was killing him. “Please, please fuckme, daddy. Need your cock inside of me.”

“Do you think you’re ready forthat, baby?” Richie asked, as though he couldn’t tell Mike was by the way histhree fingers slid easily in and out of Mike’s hole.

“Yes daddy, yes, I’m ready, Ipromise, please.” Mike was tearing upnow, so Richie slowed his thrusts and kissed Mike’s cheeks, cooing at him andshushing him gently.

“Hey, it’s okay, angel. Daddy’sgonna take such good care of his little boy, okay?” Mike nodded, and though hislip still trembled slightly, his tears stopped. “Can you give me a color, sweetpea?”

“Green,” Mike choked out,exasperated as he continued on to say, “God, please, please fuck me, I need itso bad, I can’t wait any longer, daddy. I need your cock inside of me, need youto fill me up. Please, daddy, feel so empty without your cock in me.” Richiewiped away the wetness on Mike’s cheeks and kissed them again before sitting upon his knees. Mike watched, enraptured, as Richie undid his belt. Richie waslooking at him with such dark eyes, such a cocky smirk, so condescending Mikecouldn’t help but moan.

“God, why would I fuck you whenyou’re so fun to tease?” Richie taunted. He folded his belt in half and gave alight smack to Mike’s ass again. Mike, incredibly oversensitive at this point,gasped and moaned, the pain sending pleasure through his painfully hard cock.He let out a series of uneven little whimpers as Richie stepped off the bed andundid his button and zipper, pulling his jeans off. Mike loved the way Richielooked in his boxers, but he longed for what was beneath them, what was tentingthem and getting them all wet.

“Please,” he whimpered, pullingweakly at his restraints. Richie watched him squirm and stroked his cockthrough his black briefs. Mike let out a pathetic little whimper when Richiethrew his head back and moaned; the sound was intoxicating, and he was a sightto see with the long, pale column of his throat on full display and full, soft,deep pink lips falling open. His head fell forward and he drank Mike in withhis eyes, looking through the curtain of black curls that fell in his face. Hisgaze set Mike’s skin aflame.

“God, you’re pretty,” Richieadmired, still lazily stroking himself. “Gets me so hard to see you all tied upfor me, princess.” Mike whined, his cock throbbing. “You wanna see, baby? Youwanna see how hard you make daddy?”

“Please,” Mike mewled, every partof him aching for Richie. “Please, please,daddy, please, I need it so bad, please, I’ll be so good for you, I promise.” Richiesmirked at Mike’s desperate pleas and slipped his thumbs under the waistband ofhis boxers. He finally dragged them down, making Mike let out a soft “fuck,” at the sight of his cock, hardand flushed and so fucking long. They’d been together for years, yet they werestill so in awe of each other, and it showed every time they looked at eachother.

Richie climbed back onto the bedand settled himself between Mike’s legs. Mike whined and wriggled his hips whenRichie just ran his hands over Mike’s skin, briefly kissing his legs, making nomove to touch him. “Use your words,” Richie teased.

“Fuck me,” Mike huffed, hisdesperation and frustration and arousal all crystal clear in his voice.

Richie smacked his ass again with aplayful reminder about “Manners, kitten.”

“Please, daddy, please fuck me.Need to feel you, need you so deep, please.”

“God, you’re such a littlecockslut,” Richie chuckled, the degradation of it making Mike melt. “Isn’t thatright, princess? You’re such a fucking desperate little slut for daddy.” Richiesmacked Mike’s ass again, the sensitivity making Mike tremble. He let out asmall sob when Richie finally ran the head of his cock over Mike’s hole. “Lookat you, all nice and wet and ready for daddy’s cock. You’re such a good boy forme, baby.” He pressed the tip of his cock in, making Mike gasp. “I bet I couldjust slide it right in.” Without waiting for a response he snapped his hipsforward, burying his entire cock into Mike in one swift movement. Mike let outa strangled, high-pitched cry and once again grabbed for purchase he couldn’tfind. There was some pain as Richie pulled his hips back and thrust themforward again, but it only added to the pleasure that coursed through Mike’sentire body. Richie’s thrusts were fairly slow, but each one went deep, hard. Mike’seyes fell shut, the pleasure rendering him speechless. It was so deep inside ofhim, in his core, and he loved knowing that Richie was doing that to him. Heloved feeling Richie so deep inside of him. “Tell me how good daddy’s cockfeels,” Richie ordered, his voice gruff and laced with his own pleasure.

“S-so good,” Mike said obediently.He could hear how he struggled over his words, and the way Richie began kissinghis neck didn’t help. He let out a grateful little noise when he felt Richie’sfingers dig into his hips and pull him onto his cock. Richie rolled his hipsslowly, pressing his cock in as deep as it could go. Mike sighed insatisfaction; he loved feeling so full of Richie, feeling all of him. “Fuck,feels so good,” he moaned, “so fucking deep, fuck.” Richie mouthed down Mike’sneck to his collarbone and chest, pressing slow, wet, sloppy kisses to his skinbefore lapping his tongue over Mike’s nipples. Mike moaned and squirmed underthe attention, every part of him so sensitive from Richie’s previous teasing. AsRichie’s grip on his hips loosened a bit, Mike found himself instinctivelyrolling his hips, chasing the sensation of Richie inside him.

Richie stopped his movementssuddenly and forcefully stilled Mike’s hips. Mike’s heart jumped when Richiebit at his neck. “What’s wrong, baby?” Richie murmured. “Is daddy not fuckingyou hard enough? You want it harder?” Mike just whimpered. “Yeah, you wantdaddy to hurt you, don’t you?”

“God, yes,” Mike moaned, waves of heat rolling through his body atRichie’s words. “Please, daddy, please make it hurt, please fuck me.”

Richie lifted himself up andgripped Mike’s jaw in one of his hands and kissed him hard, his teeth digginginto Mike’s lower lip as he began fucking him fast and hard. Mike whimperedinto Richie’s mouth. His whimpers turned into moans as he felt Richie run hishand down from his jaw and wrap it slowly around Mike’s throat. Richie leanedup on one elbow to see the look in his eyes, to appreciate all the faces Mikemade, so he could hear all the noises that fell from Mike’s lips. Mike felt soon display; he felt like he was all for Richie, in a way that made him blushwith pride and pleasure. Richie shifted a bit so that he could hold Mike’s hipin one hand and press the fingers of his other hand against the sides of Mike’sthroat. Mike let out a weak moan and finally relaxed, the euphoria ofcompletely surrendering himself to Richie overcoming him. His head feltpleasantly fuzzy, and the way Richie was fucking him had his entire bodybuzzing. Pain and pleasure mixed together, making him feel loose and warm. Hiscock was so hard it hurt; sensitive shocks shot through it every time the headbrushed against Mike’s stomach with the force of Richie’s thrusts. But all ofit felt amazing, had his mind going blank to the point where he didn’t knowanything but the pleasure of RichieRichieRichieand the need for moremorepleasefuckmore.These thoughts never formed into words, but the moans that they came out asspurred Richie to keep going. Richie knew Mike like the back of his hand, knewwhat every sound and look meant. He knew just how to keep Mike right on theedge, just the way he knew he wanted. Mike opened his eyes to find Richiestaring down at him with those eyes that were full of love and lust, eyes thatreminded Mike that Richie loved him and possessed him and cared for him. Mikeloved being Richie’s, loved how Richie knew exactly how to take care of him.Richie made Mike feel so good. Heloved hearing Richie moan, loved hearing the sound of Richie fucking into himso fast and hard, loved knowing that he made Richie feel that good too.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Richiemoaned. He loosened his grip on Mike’s throat and dragged his nails down Mike’schest - not enough to break skin, but enough to leave raised red trails forMike to admire with hooded eyes later. “God, I’m so fucking lucky that you’remine, kitten. Such a pretty little slut, and all for me.” Mike whimpered, hiscock throbbing insistently, painfully. Everything felt so good, and his bodywas desperate for release he wasn’t getting. It was ecstasy and torture at thesame time.

“Love being yours,” Mike panted,reaching out for Richie, as he had forgotten about his restraints in his haze. “Lovewhen you take what’s yours.”

“I know you do, princess,” Richiegrinned darkly. “You love being daddy’s little toy. You want daddy to show youwho you belong to? You want daddy to fill you with his come and keep it therewith a plug so you can feel it all night? Don’t want you forgetting whose slutyou are, do we?” Mike moaned obscenely and clenched around Richie’s cock.

“Please,” he cried. “Please, daddy,please come in me. Need your come so bad, please, please use me, please fill meup, daddy.”

“Fuck,” Richie grunted, now holdingboth of Mike’s hips in his tight grip as he fucked him, his thrusts becomingfaster, sloppier, more desperate. “Gonna come in your pretty little hole, baby.Gonna get you nice and messy so everyone will know what a little slut you arefor me.” His words went straight to Mike’s cock, making it throb so painfullythat he could feel the tears building behind his eyes again, his body full ofpleasure that was begging to spill over; he felt like a dam ready to break.

“Daddy,” Mike whimpered, his voiceshaking. It felt so good just to say it, and he knew it was what Richie neededto hear to push him over the edge. “Fuck,daddy, please, please come in me, daddy.”

“Fuck, I’m coming, baby,” Richiepanted, his cheeks and chest flushed and curls hanging wild in his face. Mikewatched his face intently as he moaned, not wanting to miss a second of pleasurethat passed over his features. Mike let out a small sob as he felt Richie’swarm come fill him up; he felt like he could come just then, like he was righton the edge, but as he was unable to touch his cock it was just barely notenough. Richie held Mike’s hips as he rode out his high, his own hips stilling,his cock buried deep in Mike’s ass. The sounds he made as he came had tearsrolling down Mike’s face, he was so desperately turned on. Richie slowly openedhis eyes and reached up to wipe Mike’s tears away with his thumb. Just the tinytouch had sparks running through Mike’s veins. “Oh, sweetheart,” Richiemurmured as he caressed Mike’s face, “just a little bit longer, okay?” Mikenodded and nuzzled his face into Richie’s palm, kissing his rough skin. Richieleaned over and peppered Mike’s face in kisses as he ran his hands over histhighs. “You’ve been so good for me, angel, promise I’m gonna make you feel sogood.” Mike let out another little sob as the praise left him alight. Richiegently pulled out, and just as Mike began to feel his come drip out of him, heslipped a plug into Mike, keeping him full and warm. Mike let out anothershaky, relieved breath - he didn’t want to feel empty.

Richie lay down next to Mike,kissing his neck and running his fingers teasingly over his chest. Mikesquirmed under his touch, the tears starting to come harder now that all he hadto focus on was how badly he wanted to come. “Daddy-” he said, his own choked sobcutting him off.

“Shh, baby, it’s okay,” Richiecooed as he kissed a trail down Mike’s abdomen. “Daddy’s got you, kitten. I’mright here.” His words made Mike smile, even through the oversensitivity.

Richie finally settled on hisstomach between Mike’s legs. “Oh, fuck!” Mike cried as Richie ran his fingeraround the head of Mike’s cock, gathering precome before drawing his fingerlightly, slowly over the vein on the underside of Mike’s cock. “Daddy,” Mikecried indignantly. “Daddy, please, Ineed to come, please.”

“I know, baby,” Richie soothed.“It’s okay. You can come, sweetheart.” Richie wrapped his long, deft fingeraround Mike’s precome-slick cock, sliding them easily up and down his shaft, uparound the soft, sensitive skin of the head of his cock. Richie made sure Mikewas looking him in the eye when he said, in that low, commanding voice that wasMike’s weakness, “Come on, princess. Come for daddy.” Richie ducked his headdown and wrapped his lips and tongue around Mike’s cock, his hand slipping downto gently cup his balls. Electricity exploded and pulsed through Mike’s body ashe came, his body warm static as stars flashed behind his tightly shut eyes. Itwas all so good, so intense, and his restraints kept him in place so that hefelt it all. He sobbed as he came down, every nerve in his body tingling in theaftermath. He was so physically, mentally, and emotionally overwhelmed; it wasthe best thing he’d ever felt.

Before he could fully process allthe pleasure he was feeling, Richie lips were on his heated cheeks, his fingersrunning through Mike’s hair. He was whispering sweet praises in Mike’s ear andwiping away his tears, bringing him back down. “I’m right here, angel. You didso good for me. You’re such a good little boy for me, I love you so much. Youmake daddy feel so good, sweetheart. You’re so good, baby.” Mike let outanother sob and turned his head toward Richie, trying to hold him. Richiekissed his forehead and nuzzled their noses together. “Hey, it’s okay, baby.Daddy’s right here, it’s okay. You want me to untie you now?”

Mike nodded. “Wanna hold you,” hesaid, his voice rough and teary. Richie smiled and pressed all the love andadoration he could fit into one kiss to Mike’s salty, trembling lips. Mike sighedwhen he pulled away, the kiss clearing his mind.

“We’re gonna go slow, okay, angel?”Richie said as he sat up to undo the restraints on Mike’s ankle. Mike sniffledand nodded, missing Richie’s body heat, missing his lips. But his hands feltnice as they held his leg and lowered it, so slowly, so carefully, and hepressed deep, soothing kisses along Mike’s skin as he gently set his leg downon the bed. Mike moaned and shuddered at the soreness in his muscles. “I know,kitten, I know it hurts. But daddy’s gonna make it feel all better.” He kissedMike’s hipbone lightly as he massaged the muscles in Mike’s left leg. By thetime he was done repeating the process with Mike’s right leg, Mike had calmeddown considerably, the warmth buzzing softly under his skin. Richie pressed a lightkiss to his nose that made him giggle before he worked on bringing Mike’s armsdown. “We have to let your arms down and let them rest for a bit now, okay,babydoll?” Richie said, knowing Mike would try to wrap his arms around Richieas soon as they were free. Mike hesitated, but soon nodded, knowing Richie wastaking care of him, and that he would get to hold him soon. Richie repeated theprocess with all the patience and love in the world, soothing Mike’s muscleswith his hands and lips.

Mike let out a small, happy noisewhen he was finally able to wrap his arms around Richie. He buried his face inhis shoulder, inhaling the scent that was unique just to him. He pressed hislips to Richie’s skin, kissing the freckles on his shoulders. Richie gently rolledthem over so that he could wrap himself protectively around Mike. Mike happilytucked his head under Richie’s chin, his head on Richie’s chest and Richie’sheartbeat clear in Mike’s ear. It made Mike smile, soothed him. With Richie’shands stroking through his hair, he was in fucking heaven. “I love you so much,”he grinned contentedly with a kiss to Richie’s chest.

“You’re my everything,” Richie saidsoftly. Mike smiled as Richie pressed a kiss to his hair; this was his favoritepart of aftercare, the part when Richie got all soft and open with hisfeelings. Mike loved Richie’s jokes, but there was something so heartwarmingabout the little honest glimmers that occurred in these moments of intimacy,wrapped up in each other, minds soft and bodies melting together. “How are youfeeling?”

“So good.” Mike curled further intoRichie, sleep rocking his body and blurring the edges of his consciousness. “Sleepy.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Richie grinned. “Youget some rest, cutie. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” Mike gave a softsigh as he drifted off.

As promised, he was still in Richie’sarms when he came to. This time, however, he noticed a glass of water and abowl of cut up fruit on their nightstand. “Hey there, sleeping beauty.” Mikecould feel Richie’s smile as he pressed a kiss to Mike’s temple. “Can we getsome water in you?” Mike nodded, still a bit fuzzy from his nap and fromearlier. Richie helped his sit up, propped up against the headboard and Richie’sshoulder as he sipped his water. When Richie offered him the bowl of fruit,Mike rested his head on Richie’s shoulder and looked up at him with his bestpuppy dog eyes. “Aw, you want daddy to feed you, princess?” His voice was lightand teasing, but it was dripping in adoration that revealed his sincerity. Mikesmiled and opened his mouth. Richie shook his head with a grin as he fed Mikehalf a strawberry. “I spoil you, you know that?”

“That’s because you love spoilingme,” Mike shot back once he’d swallowed his fruit. He opened his mouth again,asking for another.

“You got me there,” Richie chuckledas he brought the fork back to Mike’s mouth. Mike chewed happily as he snuggledfurther into Richie, the warmth and comfort of Richie’s love and care for himmaking him feel like he was floating. “I love you,” Richie murmured againstMike’s skin as he kissed his forehead.

“I love you, too.” Mike grinned upat Richie, nuzzling their noses together. Just as Richie leaned down to kisshim, he pressed a cube of cantaloupe against Mike’s cheek, making him cry outindignantly. Richie was giggling to himself as he pressed a kiss to the wetspot on Mike’s cheek. “That was mean,” Mike whined, but even as he did so hewrapped himself around Richie and burrowed his face into his chest.

“Aw, I’m sorry baby,” Richielaughed. “How can I make it up to you?”

“Feed me every meal for the rest ofthe week,” Mike smirked.

“It’s a deal.” The two beamed asthey brought their lips back together. As Richie pulled Mike close into him andfed him some more fruit, Mike thought, for the millionth time, how lucky he wasto have someone who would make him come so hard he cried and then take the bestcare of him afterwards. He really, really loved Richie (and Richie really,really loved him).

permatag: @clouded-eyes-and-salty-tears @reddie4thesinbin @deadlighturis @constantreaderfool @reddieloserz @jessicaheartsderry @vegetarian-avocado @tinyarmedtrex @sml1104 @reddie-for-anything

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gg-astrology · 6 years ago

Note

Since both Hoseok and Jimin are infamously known as the two who are most scary when angry, can astrology tell us how scary?

Hey there! �� Thanks for sending this in dfkjnkn I’ll do my best to explain it 💕

[Below Cut: BTS anger]

warning: long post

Note: this is just my interpretation, feel free to have your own interpretation on the subject. As always, please use your own discretion when reading! 💕

Premise

First thing that comes to mind is that context might be important here, everybody gets angry to an extent. How they lash out depends on how angry they are and who they are as well (nature- overall placement, nurture, how they’ve grown/developed/matured).

Some people might have trouble getting angry (they’re just never angry) Some has only experienced mild irritations. Suppressed emotions can be pretty common, especially those who just doesn’t know how to express themselves properly/acknowledge their feelings.

They’ll have to learn sooner or later. How to recognize and resolve ‘negative’ emotions they might feel. How to express them healthily, and how to do so in doses instead of overly-expressing them or suppressing them entirely.

Now, the reason Hoseok and Jimin might be ‘the scariest when angry’ is within the context of BTS themselves. How often does the other boys express their anger? How do they express it? Is it just irritation, frustration or do they suppress/act passive aggressive about it?

Taehyungie

Taehyungie– with a truckload of Capricorn in him, is literally the most peacekeeping lil shit without actually being peaceful himself. Capricorn Mars, Aries Moon, Aquarius Venus. Alot of his energy goes into making sure nothing gets too out of hand, but at the same time– trying to find objectivity in his reasoning/situation in order to express his anger

(Like, there has to be that ‘exact’ moment where everything in his head makes sense within the context of the conversation, so he can just insert it out there – like a pre-formed phrase that’s just waiting for the right time/context to be expressed you know? Kind of like Cards Against Humanity.)

Capricorn placements (especially Mars) might find it so much easier to just swallow down their anger– a momentary emotion, in order to observe and find the best way/opportunity to express them properly.

The head always rules the heart, even when the heart is close to breaking down in tears/a million pieces (not trying to be melodramatic sdjfnakns this is just– how it is sometimes)

There’s a reason Capricorn is exalted in Mars, and it’s because they can literally put themselves on the back-pedal in order to put the situation first.

It’s the same self-sacrificing aspect they have, where they don’t want to ‘burden’ others with their emotions/problems because they feel awkward expressing themselves. A dumbass about it, but a well-intended one (that’s going to bite them in the ass eventually).

There’s power and dominance in being able to handle your own emotions, even if you had to suppress them at the beginning. In terms of anger, oh it’s not like he doesn’t feel anger. It’s just that– the Capricorn/Aquarius way, anger is always expressed through the head, through objectivity, rather than emotionally letting go/releasing that outwards.

It’s this innate need for power and control over their own objectivity that makes them quiet, makes them seek a different opportunity to express themselves. They’re stubborn and foolhardy, they can wait forever just for a 0.5 window of opportunity that’s perfect to align itself for them.

(Also, Capricorn Mercury/Mars – loud booming voice, no heat in them. Intimate sometimes, but always clear about what they want. Once they’ve reached a limit/others push them to the limit, they’ll become pretty blunt about self-protection.The loud voice is more to do with intimidating tactic, done subconsciously. Not really meant to harm/shout at others, it’s just the way they naturally escalate in volume/primal in a way. Push authority into short words but straight to the point. Doesn’t like to do this to others bc they feel guilty/like they’ve wronged their social responsibility to others (some moral integrity stuff)– so they’re always trying to ‘soften’ themselves up constantly/outside of the context.)

Jungkookie

Compared to Taehyung, Jungkookie has more of an internal alignment to be peaceful internally– even if he doesn’t know how to do so/exert it externally that well (he’s still learning).

Virgo, compared to Capricorn– is more internally controlled. They’re aware of what they’re doing, what they’re going through, how they deal with situations. While Capricorn as a cardinal sign, is more intuitively aware/experienced with keeping peace externally.

Virgos as a mutable sign, is more of a sign that configurate things inside of themselves and if the solution isn’t satisfactory– they go ‘this aint it’ and work to find a ‘better’ solution (in regards to emotional dissatisfaction/anger).

Virgos motive for making a move is centered around ‘can it be improved?’ – if it’s a constructive criticism, if the other person can make some changes around it. Will it be useful/helpful going further? They’re stubbornly prideful, clings onto their moral integrity. If it’s just a ‘passing emotion’ they’re less inclined than any other signs to make a screaming match about something that doesn’t matter to them in the long-run.

Moral integrity is the utmost important, and then ‘will they listen? will they accept help?’ becomes secondary factor on whether or not they should express their anger. Like Capricorn, it’s pretty controlled. Clean cut, moral objectivity. But in this case, there’s actually an allowance for irritation to flare or personal feelings to come forward.

They’re not going to deny themselves the opportunity to feel something, but they will most likely deny expressing it to another person. Would rather eat the poison and suffer alone, than drag anyone into it because they don’t know how to express it properly. Maybe after they broke down, they process everything and have had time to think about what they want to say– they might consider letting others in on their inner thoughts/vulnerabilities. Maybe not.

(Also, Scorpio Mars. Has the ability to ‘shut off’ emotions to get things done. I know, ‘water signs are emotional’ and all that– but when it gets too much, too overwhelming and they have to focus on a single-minded goal/objective– they are prone to just exerting themselves into action, to reach a certain goal, with or without hurting other people along the way.)

(Can be kind of prissy, isn’t booming like Tae but isn’t backing down either. Clipped, short but shows more self-control/awareness of other’s emotional receptivity than Tae does/primal. Isn’t guilty about it unless Leo Moon dictates so.)

Namjoonie

Can’t talk about anger without mentioning Namjoonie. Again, with his Virgo there’s a modicum of control. But also with the Sagittarius Moon, Libra Mercury and Cancer Mars– there’s a conscious decision to ‘slither’ this control into something different, something not as openly hurtful to others, but still self-expressive.

Anger is just an emotion people go through. Frustration, embarrassment, shame, regret are emotions everyone’s supposed to feel.

There’s no shame in acknowledging that, in discovering and categorizing that inside of yourself (Virgo - wants internal control/seeks out externally, and part of that control comes from noticing emotions inside of themselves - Cancer/Scorpio)

With a Sagittarius Moon (fire moons), every emotion feels physical. Your face flares up, your heart-beat quickens.You react instinctively, through what you’ve already experienced/know before their brain goes on shut down.

Processing of emotions comes after, putting a name to it acknowledging what it is and figuring out a way to counteract it in the future.

See, the thing about it is that fire signs feels emotions but can’t control it. It’s an automatic reaction, everything catches them off-guard. Water signs feels and acknowledge emotions but doesn’t see the point in letting it all out at once (inner-depth/internal emotions not just external ones).

Sure they might know how to navigate through it and often wish to ‘turn it off’, but the comparison between fire/water sign is like throwing a pro-swimmer and a non-swimmer in a pool and ask them to stay afloat for 30 minutes.

One is just struggling to survive while the other is tired because they’ve been paddling for 15 minutes. Fire signs shows more emotional reaction than water sign does, mostly because they don’t have complete control over their emotions the way water-sign does.

Water signs acknowledge emotions, acknowledge reactions and learns how to navigate through it. How to swim, how to figure it out, how to work through it eventually. Fire signs are stuck at the beginner-level swimming phrase for a lot of their emotional reaction.

Having both of these in one’s chart (Sagittarius Moon/Cancer Mars/Scorpio Venus) – Namjoon can’t control his emotional reaction (his frustration/anger)– but he can learn how to categorize them, how to work with them and how to express them to others properly.

He feels emotions (not just anger) truthfully and honestly. He learns how to hone it, how to cope and work with it through social obligations/situations (Scorpio Venus/Cancer Mars). He’s a sneaky bitch who acts passive-aggressively sometimes, side-eyes, snarks, can be a little insensitive but he’s learning.

If there’s a situation where he can’t express his emotions, earth/air takes over. That’s his awkwardness, fire/water at least acknowledges/expresses emotions. Earth/airs would rather die than express any kind of vulnerabilities they haven’t screen-tested before showing it outwards.

Think of it as like, the head (earth/air) versus the heart (fire/water). Which side would you choose? Which side is more important? Neither, but when it comes to anger/expressing anger– Namjoon might let his heart rules him before his head (earth/air) actually shifts into gear (vice versa too, but it usually lets to the heart losing control and the head having to pick up the pieces/try to keep a modicum of control that we’re talking about earlier with Virgo)

The difference between Namjoon and Jungkook is the configuration of placement. They might have all the elements there, but Namjoon has 2 counts water (Scorpio/Cancer) while Jungkook has 2 counts earth (Virgo Sun/Mercury).

With an elemental balance (all elements in a chart) – the ones that’s overwhelmed by the other is the one that needs to be practiced, learnt and is like their ‘vulnerability’.

So with Jungkook, anger is more controlled than Namjoon. He may not express it well/all at once like Namjoon does, or know how to do so without holding back —but it’s heart-felt anyways. Namjoon goes heart-first in expressing his emotions, his thoughts, he tries to make it reasonable, but the heart/emotions wins over logic when push comes to shove.

It’s kind of like– the 2 count head/earth is the overt exertion, while the heart is the underlying layer for Jungkook. While for Namjoon it’s the opposite, the 2 count heart/water is exerted (way of expressing his emotions) and then the head is the underlying layer underneath (trying to keep balance/control).

(Which is why– if he holds a grudge, the heart doesn’t forget and the head works to keep it under-wraps. )

(Always wants to win, so the main objective to Libra Mercury is winning the argument. Competitive without realizing it, especially when Cancer Mars is engaged/cardinal. Smug but firm, gloats a little.)

Yoongi

Now we have a watery man example. Yoongi is?? similar to Jungkook and Namjoon in a way. Pisces Mercury, Aries Venus are quick to point out things that they disagree with. They may be easy-going most of the time, but if it’s taken too far by someone else– they’re the ones who’s going to go ‘this aint it’ and explain to others what could be added to make it better.

Of course, emotionally he’s aware of himself (virgo moon) but can also steer the direction very quickly (pisces). Yoongi is like, the opposite and similar to Taehyung.

Tae’s fire moon earth sun expresses emotions physically but also suppresses himself– doesn’t have time to acknowledge bad behaviors/habit he has or the emotion he just went through.

Yoongi’s aware of the emotions he went through/feels, he can suppress it too if he wants. Most likely if the opportunity/the way he words it isn’t to his liking.

With Pisces Mercury, often times he has a hard time expressing his emotions forward to others anyways. The way he goes about expressing/connecting to others is through teasing (Aries Venus) motivating others, guiding them/being there for them (Virgo Moon).

In terms of anger/expressing anger, Virgo/Aries takes over externally. ‘This ain’t it’ becomes the biggest concern, constructive criticism but also objectivity becomes key points. Underneath that, is the underlying Pisces/Cancer– he cares, it’s from the heart. Emotional connectivity to others for protection, guidance, empathy and realizing objectivity in the situation.

More of the type to rely on empathetic logic/rationality (emotional) than trust himself to express things from the heart completely. Everything is kind of a ratio of 1:2 emotions to logic. Mostly from that Virgo Moon keeping things under-wraps for him (internal control).

At the same time, he can tend to take personal offense to things because of this Virgo/Pisces/Cancer part. Nagging, irrationality, personal complaints about his personal lifestyle that isn’t bothering anyone might irate him (less serious stuff -> irrationality anger, more serious stuff -> rational empathetic anger - Pisces).

Yoongi structures things methodically, systematically through the head to achieve the heart’s emotionality/expressing the heart out. That’s why, compared to Namjoon, he tends to be much more a person who holds a grudge over the decades and plans for revenge (with a smugness/air of superiority that Pisces/Virgo has, ‘martyr-like’ superiority) because the heart really doesn’t forget, but the head also works to exact revenge exactly as planned.

(Because of trouble expressing the self, tends to rely more on Aries Venus to get through to people. Complains a lot, goes about seeking things in a roundabout way sometimes.)

Jinnie

Next we have Jinnie, let’s acknowledge how the luminaries are fire/fire which makes him pretty expressive/lose his head pretty quickly. But the lower half, his inner planets– are Scorpio/Capricorn/Cancer.

Similar to Namjoon, but because Namjoon has a Virgo Sun, he can tend to hold back a bit more (trying to figure himself out) while Jin has no regards expressing how he feels in a way that’s accessible to him – logically but also rapidly.

I know we’ve all said ‘Jin’s hiding something’ or has a more ‘serious side’ to him– but that’s mostly just a Capricorn and how Capricorns typically are. There’s no hidden agenda, everyone just thinks Capricorn are like hidden darkhorse or something/has something underneath it all.

Capricorn and Scorpio both are kind of objectively driven, pressured by the same kind of stamp as each other (time/challenges) grind in the same kind of mortar.

The reason most people feel unease because of these signs (‘they’re intimidating’ or ‘they’re mysterious’) is because people like to objectify them without understanding/acknowledging them as people themselves. (Wow what a surprise that Jin gets treated the same sometimes by the fandom!)

Jin expresses anger through objectivity, but it comes in layers.

One, if it’s frustration/immediate he jokes about it, tries to bring it to attention so others can pick up on the ‘actual’ gravity of the situation through pressure/tenseness of his snark.

Two, if that doesn’t work– he expresses his points objectively instead. You’d be caught dead in a ditch if a Scorpio Mercury actually spill their heart out to you with all their vulnerabilities, everything has to be screen-tested first.

You’ve been screen-tested, his emotions are screen-tested, his strength/weaknesses are screen-tested. Everything can be tested in order to ensure optimal support and transformative motion to the situation.

Three, it’s pretty straight forward. Unless he can handle it himself (keep it under-wraps) work through his insecurities/vulnerabilities and come out alive. He likes to categorize concern for ‘ones to talk about with others’ and ‘ones to deal with himself’.

Control — Capricorn/Cancer/Scorpio all talks about having control. Externally most of all, what you see is what you get (for now). There’s more underneath it (obviously) but unless he’s ready to conclude/worked through it already he’s not going to let anything get ‘messy’ externally so others can see it.

Control is also level-headedness. The key word to Jin is that he’s not messy. His emotions aren’t all over the place, everything is pointed, purposeful. Evoke something purposefully with an objective/punch-line he can run with. Even his jokes/first level frustration has an objectiveness to it.

It’s great because it’s systematic and objective right? There’s the private, personal and public. Everything is organized in layers. Whether you want him to be personal or his public self, he can bring it out for you. The main key here is Capricorn Venus dependability. Combined with Cancer Mars control/protectiveness.

(This ‘not messy’ part is important. Having layers helps him with this. It’s not like Namjoon or Yoongi, who can get quite messy. Not like Taehyung or Jungkook who’s abhorrant to messiness in general (on a spectrum of Taehyung/Jungkook to Yoongi/Namjoon how messy are you?). Jin isn’t afraid to get dirty with his emotions, but he cleans up after himself afterwards because he knows how.)

Hoseok and Jimin

Now, we get to the two in question. The members mentioned how they’re the scariest when mad right? Well after we’ve looked at everyone– on the scale of Taehyung to Namjoon– how messy do you think they get?

There’s two things here. First, Jimin doesn’t hide his anger/frustration. Most of all when it comes to himself. His own frustration/anger at himself, he’s pretty expressive about how he feels, where he’s at emotionally and wants to engage emotional conversations with others (BV3 - also Scorpio Venus).

Hoseok hides his anger/frustration. Not through an obligation (although it does make an easy convenience/excuse to do so considering his job) but more like he doesn’t understand it, can’t control it. Doesn’t even know how to go about acknowledging it sometimes (Taurus Moon).

We see the sister signs Scorpio-Taurus here more prominently. And of course, Namjoon who also has a Scorpio Venus is just as messy as Jimin (although Jimin is– substantially better at controlling/using his Scorpio than Namjoon is)

The key point here is that Jimin doesn’t hold back from expressing himself. Crying when someone mentions it? Expressing his emotions/thoughts? His Forte.

He grew up learning how to do this, despite his awkwardness shy clumsy ass. He doesn’t disallow himself to express what he’s learnt to express, what’s good for him, what he shouldn’t keep to himself.

The luminaries (Libra/Gemini) is lighter than the lower half (Scorpio Venus/Mars)– there’s a balance of rationality to emotionality. Doesn’t mean he knows how to control it.

What he lacks in fire/earth– makes him learns thing step by step. He doesn’t rush into things, doesn’t hold himself back. He learns what he has to learn and he keeps going that way. Focused, in the present, build up from each other without suppressing himself down (Libra/cardinal).

Which is why he has a better grasps at expressing himself emotionally than Taehyung does, or directing Jungkook on where to go/how to do things when kook needs a little more emotional direction (Namjoon is kind of similar in this way to Jungkook)

Jimin isn’t head driven or heart driven, he’s made up entirely of those two (air/water). That’s his entirely (Libra/Gemini/Scorpio). He isn’t like Yoongi who lashes out playfully to his own inability to express himself properly (Pisces Mercury/Aries Venus) or Jin who reacts in layers (Fire Sun-Moon/Scorpio-Capricorn-Cancer)

Jimin’s steadfast in his approach to emotional reactions, he learns and grows as he goes– step by step. He doesn’t hide himself or hold himself back.

Figuring out that literally 6/7 of the team members have some earth placements in them that kind of acts as an ‘anchor’ holding them down – its freeing to be able to zooms in and out of guiding others in the right emotional direction as well.

Now we look at Hoseok. Who is literally the opposite of Jimin. He’s just as zoomy, quick on his feet. But emotionality? Pah.

The thing with Taurus Moon is that unless it hits them in the face, they won’t even realize what they’re feeling sometimes. This isn’t stubbornness, it’s literally obliviousness.

Thus why, when they ‘explode’ (because, y know. Suppress it until you can’t make it. But unlike Virgo/Capricorn, Taurus doesn’t have that self-preservation sensor that tells them they’re nearing their limit/should express themselves now)– it’s a whirlwind of unexpected, surprising emotions. To them and to others.

The reason why it’s scary is because they don’t even realize what they felt/how they’ve been feeling. Everything is fine and dandy in the Taurus world until it’s not. And then it’s like the Apocalypse is happening. Because everything comes crashing down all at once, taking everything– the Taurus themselves, others around them, off guard completely.

This isn’t like the Scorpio native who knows their emotions, comes in short bursts, can fix it/control it pretty quickly.

The Taurus literally has no idea where it’s coming from, so any modicum of control they may have over their situation/themselves/others? Gone in a flashflood (*depends on the person, mostly their development/placement)

The repercussion is a series of self-evaluation. Wondering where they’ve gone wrong, what they didn’t notice the first time around. It’s a slow learning curve, unlike the Scorpio’s transformation/regeneration process. The Taurus is stagnant in what it’s learnt/know, so it grows only when it does some serious self-evaluation (after) and not during it.

The thing with Hoseok is that he’s also made up of Aquarius and Pisces. So besides that Taurus Moon– his problem is that he’s always a bit frantic. Pisces does that to people, want to be appreciated, want to be near/close and observe others. The power of their astute observation is also their downfall, because that directly fuels their anxiety.

It creates a time-scape where they’re concerned about the now, the future (or think constantly about the past without doing much about it). They don’t have time to self-evaluate or go through the process of learning the Taurus has to do in order to progress/grow the way it wants to.

Aquarius observes, direct, helps both sides. But getting involved in the Taurus’s messy emotions or the Pisces’s urge/desire? Unlikely. To others who needs it– yes, sure of course. To itself? It’s own problem? Pah.

So now we have two duality. Both who learns in similar ways. Step by step, growth spurt by growth spurt (fixed).

But one who doesn’t realize his emotions until it’s too late sometimes (wants to help others, wants to be useful/helpful and cries easily - Pisces Venus)

And one who still has to learn, to be able to explore all types/variety/ranges of emotions (optimistic, idealistic, wants to explore, looks on the positive - Libra/Gemini)

They counteract each other, one who controls and the other who loses control (Taurus-Scorpio * this is kind of simplified, they’re much more complex than that but this is kind of a small conclusion in regards to the context/subject above).

One who looks at things optimistically and one who wants to do things properly (Gemini/Libra/Scorpio-Aquarius/Pisces/Taurus)

They balance each other out. They work similarly, approaches things similarly, but execute things differently from each other.

Conclusion

On a scale of all of Bangtan, Hoseok’s obliviousness to his emotions is even worse than Taehyung is.

Mostly because Taehyung still acknowledges that he does have emotions, and his burdened with his ‘worser’ emotions (don’t want to burden others) – while Hoseok doesn’t even acknowledge that he has it, or felt it. Going straight to solving other’s problem or approaching it practically instead (Aquarius -making the fall out worse sometimes)

Out of all of Bangtan, Jimin’s on the other end of the scale. Maybe tied to Namjoon or the Hyung-line (Jin, Yoongi). He’s kind of like Jungkook, as time goes he gets more control over his range of emotions. And thus, he learns how to balance it out himself.

Note that Earth and Air signs do feel emotions, and can express said emotions. But whether or not its ‘good’ or ‘bad’ emotions to them, will dictate how/if they express it to others.

So yeah, contextually. It’s all of Bangtan that should be considered. As well as perspective of those involved. To me, someone like Yoongi or Jin would be hard to handle. Mostly because my way of handling my anger/emotions wouldn’t know what to do with those who express their anger/emotions that way.

Considering Bangtan, and their lack of experience with Taurus emotional expression (or Gemini emotional expression) – it might be hard to calm them down or help them if they can’t approach it/understand it in their own way.

Whether someone’s scary when they’re angry or not depends on how well equipped we are with handling them. Whether we see it in ourselves, or whether we lose control completely.

I mentioned control a lot in this answer, mostly because that’s part of the problem (abundance of control/too much of it) but also the way it’s expressed to others. We all have some kind of control over ourselves, as– you know– maturing adults.

We’ve learnt how to express ourselves differently, some of the lingering problems when we were kids are still there, but we try to grow with it, grow through it anyways.

Ending Ment

Sorry if this was a bit messy sdkjfnkasnf I feel really stiff coming back after going on vacation for a while. But I hope this is a good answer anyways 💕 Thank you for sending in the ask! 💕

#bts #bts asks #hoseok #jimin #namjoon #taehyung #yoongi #jin #jungkook #bts astrology #bangtan astrology #kpop astrology #bts scenario #bts imagines #bts reactions #anon #asks

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