#and i wrote a scene where he gives her a massage to help with her chronic pain from y'know dying painfully

[i-had-bucky]

oooh lemme ramble a minute.

so my first commander, Mari, fell hard and fast for Trahearne! They just Got each other, and they were both smitten and ridiculous. She never quite forgives herself for not being on the ships that went down in the jungle (believing falsely that she could have saved him), and of course for how everything with him goes down later. His death pretty much destroys her and by the end of EOD, she's just emotionally (and physically) exhuasted and traumatized, so her canon ends with her going with Aurene. I'm playing through the what lies beneath stuff with her right now and ooooof it hurts. She's so Tired and Sad. But! There is also a Trahearne!lives au where she doesn't do that and ends up finding him during soto, and they end up staying with the astral ward raising skyscales.

my main commander, Keres (of the pretty crystal horns) Mistcleaver, meets Braham and the two of them get along really well. They're around the same age - Keres is probably about a year or two older maybe, and they're both reckless idiots (affectionate). At first, they're just curious about each other and fool around in a friends with benefits situation. Then Eir dies and Braham's grief drives them apart for a while. Keres never holds it against him, but she does push back when he goes too far, and then they end up not speaking for a while and she never tells him about dying until years later. They're both fully in love with each other through pretty much all of end of PoF, LW4, and IBS. They never actually confess their (romantic) feelings for each other until some time post EOD or SOTO (haven't decided yet) when she shows up in Hoelbrak and stays with him for a while.

I'm also toying with a Yao ship because Yao is THE best but I haven't decided on who yet. Leaning towards my newest charr but.

Hey GW2 community!

I want to hear about your OC x NPC ships.

Tell me how they met,how their relationship developed, how they interact, their tragedies and triumphs. Do they have any kids? Are they just starting their relationship? I want to hear literally everything 💙

Bonus points for sharing art of your ship!! 👀🥰

[yawnderu]

hi, i've only discovered your writing recently but i can't even explain how much i love it 😭 it's like that one anon who i think said that it feels very real, like you're getting 4k ultra hd 8d view of the scene lol 🩷

i really like your bimbo reader posts but i also sort of enjoy seeing them from this point of view that's like.... "this is not his gfs """"constant"""" style but he just lets her be in this kind of persona sometimes because it's relaxing to let him do all the work and thinking for her from time to time".

i hope this makes sense 😭 thank you for writing something that's this cute and wholesome i just love it

Thank you so much sweetheart, this is really lovely!! 😭😭😭<3

Yeah!! I totally get where you're coming from!! She's not exactly dumb, it's actually quite the opposite. I'd like to hc her as a girl who managed to get into a very good university and is studying astrophysics simply because she liked watching stars as a child. She's not dumb— just a girl who grew up extremely sheltered and hasn't seen the world through the eyes of someone who has had a difficult life, like Simon.

There's certain naivety that while it can be dangerous, she's been learning more and more about with Simon's help about stranger danger and trusting her instinct, but the girl is always surrounded by people who enjoy seeing her thrive and always teach her the things that her parents didn't.

I'd say in general she has a very good life, and now paired with Simon, someone whose entire soul wants to see her thrive?? She gets to turn off her brain and simply let him take control— he sometimes picks her clothes for her, dressing her up to the best of his capacity even when he's not a fashion guy.

This man has studied all her Instagram pictures because she's mesmerizing and he loves her that much, yet it also gives him the chance to more or less know what combinations she likes to wear. He still remembers the time she looked at him like he grew a second head for trying to make her wear dots and lines— but he never made that same mistake again.

They work surprisingly well together despite basically being on complete opposite sides of a spectrum, and at the end of the day, they work this well because they're both equally in love with the other.

Simon is level-headed and that gives her the chance to simply be herself without worrying about anything, he gives her a sense of security that she's never gotten with anyone else, while bimbo!reader gives Simon the love and affection he never even dared to think about. The main thing is that she looks and treats him like he's worth something how good of a soldier he is. Hell, she doesn't even know he's a soldier, she simply found the most brooding and intimidating guy and fell in love with him before she even knew it.

They both spoil each other a lot. Simon buys her things, treats her with patience and love, and generally treats her like the princess that she is, while she takes care of Simon like no other. She does face masks with him, gives him massages, does his manicure (trimming and cleaning his nails, putting lotion on his calloused hands), and is overall as patient as they come.

They're a pretty wholesome pair and quite honestly I enjoy writing about them a lot, the love they have for each other is fully pure and it makes me happy. :')

Sorry for going off here HJBEFJBHKFEHBKJEFHBJK I wrote too much but God, I love this pair SO fucking much

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

[loveislandthegame]

thoughts on today's volume! first off, let me say i really, realllllly hope that the next season doesn't have horrible couples acting like children at the finale 😭 hazel & hari were ruining the vibe . i gave FB props for not making her a villain, but i'm rescinding that now because they made both her and hari look absolutely ridiculous. it's astounding how much they manage to ruin their own characters. now let's get into the rest of it

FB you better be joking ! i've lost count of how many times they've used this box. at this point the feather is crusty, the silk is shattering, the massage lotion got bacteria in it, the whipped cream can is squirting out straight up nitrous oxide, etc.

i don't know what's more horrendous , the glitched massage oil overlay or this dress . what in the penny, nickel, dime is this ??

when i picked castle ruins for the final date i was envisioning like, a cute grassy hill with rocks scattered around, overlooking the sea . cute romantic vibes ... only for that shit to end up being a brick wall 😭 it's still a cute background though, and the date was nice

FB, where's my damn suit ! (i know i'm probably the only person that wants one but like, even the queen herself, s2 MC, had a suit option at prom) i ended up going with the black dress, which was a good shout because it actually looks really good with claudia . we're giving sun and moon 🌚🌞 <3

of course we won, but with the way this season's been going i wouldn't have been surprised if we somehow had a tie with sienna (i know it's not possible though because she gets dumped if you aren't wlw. if you're wondering about the ranking it was 4th: hazel/hari 3rd: sienna/kyle 2nd: bea/theo)

before going outside MC had a conversation with claudia's mother, and i loved this. minus the land part, this is the kinda shit i'd want as gifts IRL

when i tell you i groaned out loud when i saw who the VIP guest was. also, during the recap of our villa journey i have no clue why he was acting like i chose to be with jin in the recoupling prior the final one, did FB forget it was boy's choice ? (the AI is AI-ing girl...)

spin the block...? You can’t be talking like that White Baby

FB really screwed over the people who were romancing finn, i'm actually gagged . granted i think you're a bit delulu if you picked love instead of money with anybody besides lulu , but finn actually was an LI option. this is worse than hamish getting with ivy, i genuinely wanna know wtf were they thinking

the diamond scene with finn was the least robotic conversation this whole season, perhaps the misogynistic creeps that wrote season 5 came back to write that pile of bullshit. don't bother buying it. if you really wanna know: finn got back with kat, they tried to have an open relationship and it flopped

is he an option to run away with or what? i don't know because i slammed the tf out of the "i'm in a relationship" option 👹

love or money time, and i picked love of course ! i would say we walked off into the sunset but it's already night time

next week's volume is gonna be a reunion and ... ugh 😐 respectfully, they should've just pulled the plug here . at this point the only other islanders i care about are bea & theo, but after the final recoupling they pretty much became nonexistent (and knowing FB, this reunion is probably gonna be dedicated to helping one of these wack ass couples fix their relationship drama ...)

[ruelknudson]

Thinking about A Tale of Two Cities.

Writers are readers. As a writer, I find it best not to stick too closely to any specific genre, author, theme, or literary era. I try to dance between fiction by modern authors, non-fiction, comics, and classic literature. I love the range and diversity in approaches. But there is something magical about classic literature that I think other authors should consider: the sheer complexity of the stories.

We live in an age where there are more tools for crafting a good story than ever before. We have tools like World Anvil, Scrivener, and Grammarly to help organize and edit writing outside of basic word processing software like Word, Office Online, and Google Docs. Personally, I use OneNote to organize all my disparate elements during my pre-writing phase. Then we use armies of ARC readers, beta readers, proofreaders, and editors to give us feedback and help us massage our creations into well-formed pieces of art. But for classic literature giants like Poe, Dickens, or Austen, these tools did not exist. They wrote by hand under lantern light, candlelight, or sunlight; and their stories are vivid, dramatic, with layered characters, and surprising twists and turns properly set up with subtle elements woven deftly into their narratives.

Take, for instance, "A Tale of Two Cities." I recently reread this book and was reminded of Dickens' mastery of the craft with two elements that seemed so pointless when you first come across them. If you haven't read the story, please do. I know some classics can be tough to read. Even I have trouble remaining focused on them from time to time. My last reading of it was an audiobook, and I definitely recommend this approach if you struggle with the language used in such classics.

If you have read it and come back to this blog, you will definitely remember Madame Defarge. She often sits in the corners of some scenes in the book. However, by the end, she is the embodiment of the antagonistic forces arrayed against our heroes. She is, on the surface, a very flat character whose only role is to represent the horrors of the Reign of Terror during the French Revolution.

The second character that always surprises me is one of the first characters introduced in the story: Jerry Cruncher. Jerry is a minor character who pops in and out of the story from time to time. He is a porter at the bank but supplements his income at night as a resurrection man who steals newly deceased bodies and sells them to medical schools. In one part of the story, his young son follows him to one of these nightly excursions where he decides that he wants to be a resurrection man when he grows up.

What I admire most about the approach Dickens employs to both these characters is how unimportant they are throughout most of the story. And yet, not a word is wasted on them. Once their great contributions to the narrative are exposed towards the end, the reader is left with this sudden understanding of how complexly these two were woven into the story from the beginning.

Madame Defarge’s initial appearances could be ignored if not for Dickens' insistence that we know she is there knitting, knitting. She is only remarkable by the repetition of the word “knitting” as though Dickens is whispering to the reader, “pay attention to this woman.” But she is not the important character in those scenes, until we find out later, when the revolution is in full swing, who she is, and what she has been doing.

Defarge was a victim of the aristocracy. We learn that we have been told throughout the story how she was victimized, what was done to her, and the people she wants vengeance on. We learn that as she knitted in the wine shop, she stitches the names of the victims who will succumb to her justice. By the end of the story, we learn that Dickens was telling us her story (and the story surrounding the greater conflict between the rich, the poor, the aristocracy, and the revolution) the entire time, while using Manette, Lucie, Darnay, and Carton as the main characters driving the plot through their various trials and tribulations.

Then there is our minor character, Jerry Cruncher, a character who pops in at some very important pieces of the story, but we don’t understand how important until the very end, when his knowledge of a fake burial is used to blackmail Barsad, which allows for Carton to sacrifice himself for Darnay. Every single appearance of Jerry is notable in that he is part of some key points in the story but is essentially a giant lever, forcing the plot of the story to end in the only way it could. He is a seemingly minor character in scope but has an outsized influence on the outcome of the story. Throughout my reading of the story, I often find myself wondering why this guy matters at all, until he finally does. And then, when he does matter, you learn that he always did, just not in any way you might expect.

All the complexity and artistry aside, we know that Dickens is one of the literary world’s greatest writers. That makes it easy to dismiss the mastery on display in this novel. But I want to argue a very specific point. Dickens published 45 chapters, nearly 140 thousand words, in 31 weekly installments. He wrote the novel by hand, and then released it in pieces. I don’t know how he organized the story before he put down the ink. It doesn’t matter. The story is dense, packed with subtle scenes, breadcrumbs galore, and subtle little twists and turns. Seeds are planted in early pages to bud or bear fruit after chapters that leave the reader wondering not how he did it, but how did he do it without us noticing. No one, not in the past 165 years since its creation, regardless of the advancements in literary craft or technology, has anyone come close to doing what Dickens has done in A Tale of Two Cities.

As readers and authors, we often find ourselves hyper-focusing on the current literary trends, with the latest and greatest masters of the craft, and digging into the commercial and artistic tone setters of today’s best books. Best sellers and independent diamonds pile up in mounds of new content begging for our attention. A rare few catch our eye and our interest, and we devour them while we look at our own stories and wonder how they would fit in the current landscape. We wonder at the commercial value of our book series and hope to the literary gods that someone might touch one of our books and think they belong on their shelves next to Harry Potter and whatever tomorrow’s version of A Song of Ice and Fire will be. And those of us who write to tell stories, regardless of profit, still hope those stories will be read, when there is so much reading left to do.

And we forget that among those books stand giants holding classics that make all of us modern wordsmiths look like amateur children who have just learned to play at making stories. They laugh at our careful planning and our complex narratives so carefully organized with the best machines built for thinking that man has made accessible to us.

For many readers, there is no greater treasure than to find a classic masterpiece and realize how wonderful they are. For others, they will never come to those stories. They will read many things throughout their lives. Their lives will be richer after having read them. But I can’t help but feel a little sad knowing what they are really missing.

Speaking of readers finding new stuff to read:

I am an independent author looking for more readers to read my stories. Check out my books on my website via the link below.

[alpaca-clouds]

NaNoWriMo Day 8

Yay, managed to write four more chapters today - and finally got to the actual smut scene. 🙈 Which was rather fun to write. Funnily enough the first time I wrote a sex scene with a trans male character (who is not a shapechanger, that is). Due to writing a lot of smut for Striga/Morana in Castlevania, where I headcanon Striga as trans female, I wrote quite a bit with a trans female character in there. But never trans male. xD So, yeah. That was sure something.

The hard scene today was mostly the "escaping a sinking ship" scene. Because that was something I have not written before. Also might wanna note that I had a lot of fun today with Astarion being dramatic and everyone else going: "Dude, I get it, but this is literally the worst time for this."

Wordcount: 47 270 / 50 000 (+8894)

Chapters: 21/24

Favorite Bits:

Still, he focused on the lock, getting it open within a couple more seconds and swinging the brick door open like that. “Now please tell me they tied you up with rope?” “Them? Yes. They kinda took precautions with me,” Tav replied. He managed to get up to show the handcuffs that they had bound him with. The kind of things, that suppressed magic, Astarion assumed. But still, handcuffs usually posed little problem when it came to lockpicking them. As such it did not take him long, to open them as well. Tav smiled, massaging his wrists. “That’s better.” Then he turned to Astarion. “Thank you.” “Thank me, once we are out of here,” he muttered. “Can I kiss you?” There was a groan from the drow. “Could we please wait with all of that until we…”

The woman gave a sigh. “Don’t give an old woman a heartattack, coming in here with so many people in the middle of the night. I already thought the devil’s hordes were here to fetch me.” She shook her head disapprovingly. “But y’all look rather miserable. Do you youngsters want some hot cocoa?” Astarion could not help a chuckle. Youngster, ha. He was fairly certain he was older than this woman. “Who was that?” Karlach asked, once the woman left. “That is Marigot,” Alfira said. “My patron. She… Well, she owns the house. And since she is alone now, she allowed me to open my music school here.” “She is actually super sweet,” Tav said. “You should have told us she was here, Alfira,” Shadowheart added. “We would have tried to be quiet.”

“The thing is that… I am by now fairly certain I love you, my sweet, dumb bard. I actually do love you, can you imagine that?” Tav made a strange noise, but he smiled. “I can in fact imagine that,” he whispered. “And… And I do love you, too.” His thumbs were softly caressing Astarion’s skin. “And I kinda want to kiss you right now.” “You are an idiot,” Astarion whispered, instead just kissing him. He kissed him, and it just felt so incredibly good. More than that, it felt right. Something, though, Astarion had not quite noticed, was that they had an audience by now. “Wait, have you never said that before?” Karlach asked, leaning in the doorframe. “Of course they have not,” Shadowheart muttered. “They are both horrible idiots after all.” “You are just a bit mean,” Lakrissa muttered. “She likes being mean,” Wyll added.

[quiet-girl-short-stories]

That Annoying Time of the Month

The sounds of nature were nothing compared to nature's blessing, or as Cassie liked to call it nature's devil. This shit that happened every month with the slight hope that Cassie would think to get knocked up, is what was going on. She didn't want to work, she didn't want to move and most importantly, she wanted to stop feeling like a baby with a wet diaper!

"Fuck me!" Cassie said rubbing her head. If nothing else, Cassie always got a headache when her period came. "Like the blood coming out of me isn't enough of a sign this shit is happening and for what? The hope that I might want a baby?"

She groaned and thought about getting something to eat, but then again that would mean she would have to get from her comfortable spot and that wasn't about to happen.

"So never mind I guess."

She sat there for a while longer when she heard someone at the door. I'm not getting up, maybe if I just stay quiet they'll think I'm not home. So she did just that and sat there for about two minutes in dead silence, the knocking went on and then she heard a voice.

"Cassie? Are you home?"

Koto?

She still wasn't going to move and instead just yelled. "Yeah, you can come in!"

He already knew where the spare key was and soon she heard her door unlocking. He let himself inside and nearly sprinted to see her, but once he did he stopped.

"Oh, were you sleeping?" He asked with a worried look on his face.

"No, I'm just not feeling too good."

"So, you're sick?"

"No."

"Then what's wrong?"

She wondered if she could tell him. Well, if he has beef with this then he shouldn't be someone I'm with. It's a part of life you lucky motherfuckers don't have to deal with.

"Well, it's a special time of the month..." She began and Koto instantly understood as evident by his expression.

"Oh, w-well is there anything I can do for you?"

Helping me get off would really help. "Not really, I'm pretty much set just to sit here until I get tired."

He nodded and sat down near her feet. Cassie then touched her head and couldn't help but let out a pained expression.

"What's wrong?" His voice cried with concern.

"I just get headaches sometimes with this."

Koto smiled. "Then that's how I can help!" He stood up and walked to where she sat on the couch. "I'll give you a head massage."

"Koto, it's fine I swear."

"No it's not. Guys should help girls when they're going through this. I don't know what it feels like, but I can assume if some girls take medicine just to feel better, it must be pretty bad. So let me do this."

Why must you be so cute?

Cassie gave into him and moved as Koto directed. He seemed excited by this as he quickly sat where Cassie's head once was.

"Okay, um, you can rest your head in my lap."

Cassie nodded and turned on her side before dropping down to his lap. Her eyes were closed and soon she felt Koto's hands on her head. They were strangely warm, but she didn't really notice that until his fingers lightly brushed on her neck.

Cassie let out a soft sound which made Koto clear his throat, she couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, before I forget, why did you come over anyways?" She asked

"Right, uh, I came over because I wanted you to check this scene I wrote. I wasn't sure if I got the character's emotions right or not."

Cassie hummed. "Well, maybe you could just read it to me."

"Really? Even though you have a headache?"

"I've done worse with a headache." Plus I've had them my whole life, so I doubt if your voice will bother me that much.

"I really want to say no, but I know you'll just keep telling me otherwise..."

Damn right. He stopped touching her and pulled out the rolled pieces of paper, one of his hands returned to his head, but Cassie could hear him holding the papers with his other hand.

"The scene's supposed to be by a lighthouse. My main character just realized his wife cheated on him and the wife is trying to apologize since it was a moment of weakness." Cassie nodded and Koto began to read the script.

"The waves crash while the husband looks out to the ocean, his head is up and he begins a monologue: he says Was it something I did? I know I'm not perfect, but I tried my best to be sure she was happy... to be sure she at least loved me. I can't keep myself happy and now I know I can't even keep another happy. He walks over to a rock and begins to hit his hand on it. Why do the ocean's taunt me? They can keep going when I can't? Even when they're still here they work elsewhere. I fail when I'm supposed to work and my waves never crash properly. I can't even destroy things properly!" Koto read that with as much passion as he could all while Cassie's hair was run through. "Then the wife comes out and tries to stop him from hurting himself. Mark, don't do this! It was my mistake and I didn't think it would ever happen! He says, I knew it would have, eventually you would have realized a life with me wasn't worth it. I just wished you could have abandoned me instead of leading me to believe I was a good husband! He antagonizes. She says; You are a good husband. I do love you and being separated from you makes me want to stay with you... work past our differences and begin a new life together. He pauses for a while and eventually turns to her and she sees that he's crying. He then says, your new life doesn't include me and I know it. Then the scene is supposed to end and go on into something I haven't written yet."

Wow, that sounded amazing, but boy does Mark sound like a bitch sometimes.

"It's really good Koto and I think you have the right idea when it comes to how they should be feeling. I think what you have an issue with is making believable comments."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Mark feels like he's a failure, not that he's done his wife wrong in some way. He should make comments that reflect that he hates himself for lack of skill or whatever it is he's missing. Yes he should comment on his wife, but only on the part where you say that he can't even make another person happy. After that the audience shouldn't be reminded he's married until she comes out to put emphasis that he feels like a failure personally, not at their marriage."

She felt Koto's lift up, the paper was crinkling and she could hear his scribbling as he quickly wrote. Once it stopped, his hand returned to her head.

"That's amazing, I didn't think to do it like that! I'll rewrite it tonight."

"I'm glad I can help, but I would love to see this play on stage."

"I know, that's why I'm working so hard on this. Mr. Wry said if I can give him a compelling piece he'll allow me to put this play on!"

"Oh, really? Good for you!"

Koto paused for a bit. "Uh, though, you would really want to come and see this play?"

"Of course!"

"Even though you're helping me with the entire thing?"

"Yes Koto, I always look at things through a new lens so I never get tired of watching or reading anything interesting. Besides, I want to know how you see your words, not how I see them."

Cassie heard Koto whisper something, but when she turned to ask him what he said, he just shook his head and focused on her hair.

"I'm really glad we met Cassie."

She smiled and shut her eyes once more. "I am too Koto."

[brummiereader]

Ready for my live reaction as i comment 😄? Sorry if it gets chaotic, I can't control myself when my brain is working faster than I can type 🤭!

Well, this lovely bath scene was a lot more romantic and loving than the madness of the bath scene in the show 😂.

"Wet lips tasting like honey and whisky gently shook you off your torpor with enamored pecks they sprinkled all over your face" dear lord...that sounds like a delicious concoction 🤤. You do have a way with words Shark!

I love this bath scene it's so soft and calming. I love the fact she gave him a head massage instead. It's almost like she's giving him different avenues to relax. These Shelby men have only learnt sex as a way to relieve tension. Now Arthur knows the magic of a head massage...who doesn't love one 🥴!

The lyrics to the song she sung were hauntingly accurate to them as a couple. And the way you write how he relaxes and slowly brings his barrier down is beautiful. My god who doesn't want an Arthur like this, he is completely in love with Heaven! He worships her 😩♥️.

Oh Fuck...they are going to reunion 😳. NOO! Stay home, have another bath, just don't leave the house 🙈( I can't look).

I love that they have a plan to go somewhere outside of Birmingham, and I can see why she wants to go somewhere greener and fresher. France has incredible forests, where I live it's very green, and you can 100% feel the difference in air quality when you go back to the UK. My dad who is asthmatic never needs to use his inhaler when he visits me. My poor home country is getting so built up now, the countryside is disappearing 😞.

"They were all eager to retrieve their due and leave" Ooff 😬, this little sentence says a lot. Tommy has pushed everyone away from him, he has been cruel and selfish, his family are not coming to see him but collect their money, it really sets the scene.

I Love this scene with her and Katie ♥️. Heaven is just so perfect with children! It's such a tender and sweet moment between them, and I love how she's not afraid Heavens a witch and that's she's genuinely interested. Honestly kids are better role models than us adults.

OH MY GOD...he's going to do it, he's going to pop the question 😯🍿! Aaaaw he is so adorable and nervous, please make it stop it's too fluffy ❤️😂!! Omg Arthur would you bloody stop putting yourself down 😠! AWW yes they're engaged 🥰🥳! Wow that was intense Shark, I can now breathe 😂. Of course she was going to say yes, these two were made for eachother, they compliment eachother perfectly. This whole scene was perfect Shark, you could really feel Arthur's nervousness, I loved how he couldn't help but ramble on a bit , it was so endearing...now I'm just waiting for you to destroy the little fluffy bubble you built up for me in the next paragraph...here goes 😂😳.

"Something was wrong. Definitely wrong"

Arghh!! Say something Heaven, you feel something is wrong, expose this angry little man. The goodbyes are breaking me... especially hers and John. They care so much for eachother and have built such a strong relationship with eachother, you know how much I love Arthur John and Heavens interactions ❤️.

Oh no here we go, the truth has been dropped. Heaven knew something bad was coming, but I honestly don't think she could have saved them all from this 😞.

WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!! That sneaky bastard!!! She saved your sons life!!! I am furious right now 😡! Has he done this on purpose, a way to get rid of Heaven. He talks about making a deal but is Heaven in that deal, I swear to god if she's not I'm gonna flip!!

I am screaming!! Go for him Heaven!! Ah bah oui, bien sûr tu comprends Tommy! You understand french, you megalomaniac! I hope those words struck his ice cold heart. The way you wrote this part was incredible Shark, the way you described Heavens anger mounting had me hanging on with each word, you are a master of angst!

“Careful with this one. She’s put two of my guards into hospital. That bitch’s fucking feral.” 😏😅, I loved this. Better watch out, she may look small and meak but Heaven is deadly!

My heart is pounding right now, I feel like I'm with her walking to the noose. The way you describe every detail makes it feel incredibly real.

"Dying was bothering enough, there was no need to sprinkle the process with hypocrisy" there was something about this sentence that made me think on a deeper level. It's the fact of giving in to death. Heavens mindset is one to dream of, she brushes death off like it's just something she has to get done. She doesn't make a big deal out of it, she gives in, almost welcomes it. Its frightening but in a strange way reassuring to the reader. If only I could be as fearless as Heaven ❤️.

"After all, it was always meant to end like this" Shark this ending is just 💥, I actually can't find the words to describe it. This chapter was out of this world, every emotion every sensation I felt, your of way describing things is so poetic. I can't wait to read what happens next, I am on the edge of my seat. Fantastic Hun ❤️❤️!

P.S enjoy your holiday and don't feel pressure to respond to this ♥️🌅!

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary:  With the Russians gone and Father Hughes dead, you and Arthur can enjoy some romantic moments together, including a proposal. After talking about your future, you both decide to leave Birmingham to build a family away from Small Heath's filth. But that dawning happiness is soon wrecked by Thomas and his plans.

Words: 6k

TW:  tooth-rotting fluff, like really sweet moments, angst, quick allusion to smut, typical canon violence, mention of death penalty, allusions to death by hanging

Notes:

✞ This chapter signs the start of season 4 and, consequently, the end of the first Act of Heaven in Your Eyes. Following this chapter, there will be a two-week pause for the series. Also, parts borrowed from the show are italicized.

✞ The song Heaven sings is a French cover of Bad Guy. You can just click on the French lyrics to open the song and listen to it.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

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Arthur let out a long sigh of relief escape from his lips as his body slipped a bit more into the hot and soapy water of the bathtub. The smell of body soap, whose fragrances were those of honey and vanilla, wrapped his mind in a sweet haze. But those pleasant scents were nothing compared to the perfume of your skin his senses could recognize even hidden behind the synthetic ones. Following the last violent and chaotic events of the past few days, this moment of pure relaxation felt like a delightful reward. Everything had happened so fast, in a matter of three days, that none of you really had time to process everything. At least, the worst was behind you.

The oldest Shelby brother was lying in the hot water, his back resting against the bath tube’s edge and your tiny frame snuggled in his arms. You were locked in a tight embrace, with your legs entangled and your bodies firmly pressed against each other. The smile that was etched on your juicy lips widened as the melody of his soft sighs and the water’s lapping lulled you to drowsiness. He looked down to observe you and his mind drifted away. The last time he was in a bathtub with a woman — or with two, to be true — Arthur was snorting a ridiculously dangerous amount of snow and drowning his pain in meaningless sex. It was right after the Peaky Blinders had taken over the Eden’s Club by Tommy’s orders. At this period of his life, Arthur was at his worst and he was still very much ashamed of his past conduct.  All he wanted to do back then was to sabotage himself. And yet, here he was, two years later, in the bathroom of his little house — and not in some shady London clubs —, with God’s favorite seraph all nestled in his arms.  He had come far. A comforting wave of warmth spread in his soul as he watched you, his heart filled with both pride and ecstasy. Arthur, more than anyone else, was aware of how lucky he was to have you. For sure he strongly believed he did not deserve your love, but if there was one thing he knew it was that he would never let you go. Never. His long fingers softly moved aside one wet strand of your ivory hair, slipping it behind your ear.  As he did, he could not help but smile. Life finally made sense to him when he looked at you, half asleep in that bathtub. The truth was, he would go through everything again — the war, the pain, the suicide attempt, the hell of addictions, and the catastrophic wedding — just to hold you like this. Wet lips tasting like honey and whisky gently shook you off your torpor with enamored pecks they sprinkled all over your face. First, it was the corner of your mouth, then your cheeks, and, finally,  your forehead. You lifted your heavy lids and looked up only to be welcomed by his ravishing grin and his piercing blue eyes. Those damn eyes you’d die for.

“Yer a cute sleepyhead, eh.”

“Mmm.” You mumbled, slowly emerging from your sweet drowsiness, “It’s your fault.” You teased with a sleepy voice before gently nibbling his earlobe. The light pressure of your teeth on his flesh caused him to groan in pleasure. His grip strengthened on you, long fingers digging a bit more into your porcelain skin. 

“My fault?” He raised a brow all the while rubbing his clean-shaven cheek against yours in a sign of both affection and arousal.

“You did not let me sleep that much the past few days.” You replied with a gleam of amusement in your eyes. As an answer, Arthur’s hoarse laugh rose up to the ceiling. 

“Can't keep my hands off you eh,” He said with a lower voice before rubbing your nose with his in an adorable bunny kiss. His soft facial hair tickled your skin, causing you to laugh with him, “the urge to make love to you is too fookin irresistible… Ye make me lose me fookin’ mind,” He growled in your ear. You low-key trapped your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt one of his calloused hands trailing up your ribs with a caress as soft as a feather “And speaking about makin’ love…”

“Lord, are you even tired?” A gentle chuckle escaped from your lips. Before he could even react, you stopped him in his tracks and swiftly shifted your body until you sat on his hips and faced him. He looked at you with desire blazing in his eyes and smirked, his mustache slightly lifting as did. 

“Not with you all naked in front of me, love.”  Arthur brought his face closer, but all his lips met was your index finger you had slipped on your mouth to keep him from kissing you.

“I had something else in mind, chéri.”

“Come on, lemme kiss you…”  He complained, the tip of his tongue gently licking your finger in a teasing way. The wet caress sent shivers down your spine but even though you really wanted him, you did not give in to his lust.

“No.” You replied, your smile turning into a sharp grin.

He was about to protest a bit more vividly when you slipped your small hands in his hair and started to massage his head. 

“What are you—“ Arthur opened his eyes wide for a few seconds at the unexpected sensation of your fingertips exerting the perfect pressure on his scalp. And then, the whole traits of his face relaxed in an adorable expression, “Oh. Fuuuck—“  He sighed in ecstasy. Shut off by your touch, Arthur squeezed his lids and slightly parted his lips. Enjoying the way he reacted to your touch, you looked at him with a playful smile but what you saw instead almost break your heart. The expression on his face was indescribable — he looked like a beaten dog who had just discovered what tenderness was after a life of abuse and violence. Arthur let out a shaky moan as he gave in under your fingers like a wounded animal finally finding both the comfort and help it needed for years. 

Your softness. Your love. Your patience... It all felt so good he could have cried. 

Feeling him shivering, you deepened the massage and did your best to relax his poor exhausted body. Indeed, you poured all your love into each of your gestures, hoping your sweetness would sip through the crack of his mind and heal his deepest wounds. And as Arthur melt in your hands, the enchanting melody of your voice filled the room and sent him to paradise.

“Tachée de sang ou d’autre chose, Caché, tu rodes et moi je n’ose Parler, on mets la nuit sur pause Tu te prends pour un autre Des bleus partout sur mes genoux Tais-toi c'est moi qui tient ton cou Cette fois je fais ce que je veux J'ai l'âme coupée en deux.”

His breath slowed down at your hypnotic voice whose tone, feathery and supernatural, hold him in a blissful trance.  Curiously enough, the fact he did not understand French only enhanced the impression he was listening to an otherworldly chant. Arthur buried his face in your bosom, his whole being reacting to your voice with goosebumps and shivers. Every synapse of his brain recalled the first time he had heard you sing in this church, lost in the middle of the night. 

“Toi t'es un gars dur, tu aime avoir l'air sûr Bien blindée ton armure et défoncer des murs Moi je fais peur à ta mère, à tes sœurs J'ai ton père dans l'viseur Et ta go veut que j'meurs Je suis le méchant.”

Your fingers continued their work, massaging his head and petting his wet hair with utter tenderness, all the while you kept singing. You sang and Arthur healed. A smile appeared through dawning tears he was fighting hard against, for he was convinced he just found gold and even a few stars in your voice. 

After the romantic bath, both of you reluctantly left the comforting warmth of each other to dress for the last family reunion. In fact, now that Tommy and Tatiana’s business came to a satisfying end for the two parties, he had organized one ultimate meeting with the Shelbys to give the money he owed them.  He, as well as the rest of the Shelby/Gray house, was well aware that Arthur and you took the decision to leave Birmingham to pursue a quieter life. Surprisingly enough, the idea came from Arthur. He had told you about how he would love to open a garage and fix cars, while you had shared with him your inner desire to live near a forest to remind you of the luxuriant nature of your childhood town. Somehow, the smog of Birmingham never made you feel at home. Nevertheless, none of you wanted to do something without the other’s approbation. You were more than decided to face life as you had always done since you met: together, as a unique and vibrating soul. Yet, contrary to Linda, you had reassured him about the family business. In fact, you made clear that you would stick around if he wanted to. In no way you wished to interfere between your man and his family, as long as the risks for him remain tolerable. But Arthur felt the protective need to take you away from Small Heath’s filth. Moreover, he wished to leave his murderous past behind him and focus on the future — a future that was made of you, a house in the forest, and a little mix of both of you running barefoot in the grass.

You let out a cloud of smoke escaping from your lips. Quietly smoking in the garden of Tommy’s magnificent mansion, you looked at the guests coming and entering the house without wasting the slightest minute. They were all eager to retrieve their due and leave. You could have done the same, but you wanted to enjoy the pleasant and soothing feeling of sun rays caressing your frozen skin before locking yourself up in a room with Tommy Shelby and his never-ending speeches. The sound of a car engine made you look to your right: Polly had just arrived with Michael. The poor lad was still under the shock of Father Hughes’ death by his own hands but did his best not to let it show. However, no one could hide something from the witch you were. You took one quick look at Michael and knew something was off. The tiny flame that was burning in his blue eyes when he first came to Birmingham was now extinguished, blown away by the poison of guilt now running through his veins.

Pol greeted you with a warm smile as she passed by you. She was delighted by your presence, and even more by the fact Arthur and you were about to leave the town. She, as well as John, could only thank you for the good you brought upon the oldest Shelby. Regarding Michael, he only nodded to acknowledge your presence before disappearing into the mansion.

“Aunt Heaven!” A little girl, as beautiful as a rose and with a smile as beaming as the sun itself, suddenly rushed to you. Her little feet were hammering the gravel track, ejecting tiny pebbles each time they hit the ground. You stubbed out your cigarette on a small decorative wall and opened your arms to catch Katie, ready to get tackled with her hug. She snuggled against you as soon as she reached you, “Dad says you’re going to leave. Is it true? Can’t you stay? I really don’t want you to leave you know. Who’s gonna play with me now?”

You chuckled, trying to make sense of Katie’s speech because she had talked in such a chaotic and quick pace you had barely understood one word out of two, “I’m not going that far kitty-Kat, you know,” You leaned over her to lay a sweet kiss on her forehead. She reacted with a silky pout.

“But you’re leaving me!”

“Would you forgive me if I braid your hair?”

“Ohhh yess! Yours are always so beautiful — just like my doll!” 

“Aw thank you, kitty Kat.” You put your hands on her shoulders and made her turn around to start braiding her hair with your skillful fingers. It was something you had always liked to do to your little sister, back in France. After her death, you kept doing so on yourself as a way to keep her alive. Since then, your long white hair were more than often adorned with a huge variety of braids. “We‘ll still see each other. And you’ll spend some holidays with Uncle Arthur and me, right? So that I could teach you to bake delicious pastries for your family.”

“For my family? No way, I’ll learn only to make myself pastries and eat them in front of my stupid brothers! Serves them right to break my pony figure!” The little one blurted out with genuine mischief, letting you rearrange her blonde hair in one long French braid. 

“You’re absolutely right. Oh wait… Stay still, kitty. Can’t braid your hair if ya keep moving like that.” You advised with a caring and patient tone. 

Katie tried to remain quiet, but her wonderful children's mind was buzzing with so many thoughts at once it took only five seconds for her to bombard you with questions again. God knew how she managed to stay more or less still despite her overflooding energy. “Dad says living in the countryside is good for babies. Are you and Uncle Arthur going to have a baby?” She asked out of the blue.  You snort with amusement at her vivacity. Kids and their tact, you thought.

“I’d love to,” 

“When?” She straight off replied.

“That’s quite a difficult thing to know, darling… Let’s just wait for it to happen,” Your fingers were braiding the last strands of hair, “Almost done,” you said —  to be true you were quite proud of the result. Even though Katie was such a beautiful little girl you were not sure if the braid embellished her or if it was the other way round.

“But you are a witch. You know everything. That’s what Dad says.” 

“Seems like your Dad doesn’t know how it works.” 

“And how does it—“

“Katie? Come here, sweetie. Charlies’ nanny is waiting for you!” Esme’s voice called. 

It was all it took for Katie to hug you tight, thank you for the braid, and rush toward her mother. Taking into account the importance of this last meeting, Thomas had asked the household staff to take care of the children and not let them interrupt the adults. You looked at Katie’s little swift silhouette disappearing with the nanny with tenderness in your aquamarine eyes. For sure, you were going to miss John and his kids. 

When she left, your eyes instinctively searched for Arthur. He had just finished talking with John, who had followed his wife inside not without giving you a wink. You would have chuckled at John’s charming and teasing demeanor if you had not noticed a tint of nervousness in Arthur’s body language. Indeed, he was standing in front of the massive door, playing with his fingers and taking repeated quick glances at you before looking at his own feet, all bashful and hesitant. Your protective instincts kicked in, wondering what was wrong.  Finally, he made his way to you with his adorable awkward walk and his arms swinging.

“Are you okay?” You asked, your brows slightly furrowed as you tried to understand the reason behind his anxiety.  Once he had reached you, he grabbed your hips to pull you closer.

“Yeah I’m good, me mind was just — Y’know, just thinking about far too many things at once,” He had barely finished his sentence when he fell silent. 

“Arthur?” 

Arthur’s gaze dived into yours, his steel-blue eyes observing the slightest variations of your irises with a deep focus as if he wished to grasp all the secrets God hid beneath them. He could have stayed like this forever, losing himself in the vastness of the frosted desert that composed your alluring eyes. Yet, he was snatched from his contemplation by the soft sensation of your fingers grazing his cheek.

“What’s the matter, mon amour?”  You reiterated, genuinely worried. 

The wind blew in the garden, making your wild ivory mane dance behind you along with the petals of the flowers that were surrounding your frames. Arthur remained silent and kept staring at you — and as he did, your ethereal beauty mesmerized him and he felt his hesitation vanishing in stardust.

“Listen angel, I gotta tell ye something. I’ve been thinking about the whole matter for a while, and tried my best not to make things go too fast...”, The gravel in his voice was coated with palpable nervousness. Arthur paused, at the edge of freaking out, but rather took another deep breath. He hated himself for struggling so much to express himself. That was why his strong hands abandoned your hips and cupped your face in his slightly moist palms, “It’s just that… I can’t wait any longer.” That being said, the tall gangster laid a shy kiss on your juicy lips —contrasting so much with the way he usually devoured them in bed— and to your greatest surprise, took a few steps back right after.

You blinked in confusion, not quite following what he was trying to say, nor what he wanted to do “What do you mean?” You asked, your body yearning for his touch when he backed off.

Arthur parted his lips to say something but, once again, he could not find the right words to share his overwhelming feelings. Instead, he decided to go for it. With one trembling hand, he took a little something out of his pocket.

“Heaven — I know I am not the most handsome lad in town,” He started, nervously tightening his fist around the object he was holding in his palm, “nor the most mentally stable man you have probably met. To be true, I am quite pathetic… A fookin trash. Can’t believe you accept me as I am” Arthur looked at the ground for a few seconds, ashamed of his whole being. “You’re a young and stunning little lady, and I am an old and broken dog eh,” He sniffed, trying to keep composure, “But I’m a good man, I really am. And that good man wants to be a good husband for you.”

Husband. It echoed in your soul, resonating in your skull. Was it really happening? It could not be what you were thinking about, right? You swallowed the lump in your throat, hung onto his every move and word. 

“I am not perfect —  to be true I’ll probably go back home drunk as fook sometimes and fall on my knees, begging you to save me. Cause you’re the only one that can do that, eh” He chuckled nervously and dived into your eyes. This time he managed to keep eye contact. “but I swear to God I’ll do my best to take care of you and make you the happiest,” Joining actions to his words, Arthur’s free hand took yours. His other one, shaking with anticipation and fear of rejection, processed to slowly slip a shiny gold ring around your finger. Your heart imploded in your tight chest as the cold metal touched your skin, “I don’t want another woman ever again — there’s just you. Only you. So I might not be the best, but you can be sure I’ll remain faithful to you, my Angel… And if you ever doubt my loyalty, I’ll build a fookin’ altar to your beauty and pray on my knees,” He freed your hand from his to let you admire the magnificent ring that was now adorning it. 

You lowered your gaze toward the precious jewel and your whole body shook at the sight of the ring. It was really happening.

“Heaven Lavey… “ He cleared his throat, “Would you marry me?”

“Bloody Hell, Arthur.” You swore, unable to choke your reaction. All your life you told yourself no one would ever want the cursed witch you were. Let alone the murder charges against you. You have walked through this existence all alone, convinced it would never change. Yet you found him — a man who was not only in love with you but who literally worshipped you like a goddess. You looked at Arthur’s face again, your angelic face covered by a veil of utter surprise. You stood silent for a few moments which felt like an eternity to Arthur. His anxiety escalated for he could not survive without you. And when he said that he meant it: your mouth held the power to destroy him with one simple word… “ Of course, I want to marry you,” You finally said as you broke the distance between you with determined steps and almost jumped at his neck to pull him in a furiously enraptured embrace, “No matter what awaits me in this life, good or bad, I don’t want it if you’re not by my side, Arthur Shelby. You make me feel safe. You make me feel… Holy. And I’m not used to that.” 

“Christ!”  He exclaimed, unable to hold his joy any longer, “Come here Miss Shelby!” His hoarse and loud voice boomed in the garden. Not minding the rest of the world, Arthur’s arms wrapped around your waist right before he lifted you from the ground. Laughter escaped from your full lips, as well as tears of happiness breaking at the corner of your eyes, “My Angel, come with me to this meeting — not as me lover but as me fiancee.” 

Your feet met the ground again but your heart was still floating. 

“That’s fine with me.” You replied. Bringing your fingers to your eyes, you quickly wiped the tears away, taking care not to ruin your makeup. When your hand fell back against your hips, Arthur’s slipped his in yours and entangled your fingers together. You exchanged one last look, filled with undying love and hope for the future, before sinking deep into the corridors of the mansion. Here you both walked, unknowingly leaving the eye of the storm.

Not the slightest word came from your tantalizing mouth during the whole reunion. Thomas’ cold demeanor and the few arguments here and there managed to severely undermine the exhilarating joy Arthur’s proposal had brought to you. With one look, you both silently decided to wait for another moment to announce your wedding. As you observe little King Shelby distributing money, his temper short and fallible, a sudden unpleasant feeling broke through your core. It was similar to what you had felt when you had sensed something was going to happen to Charlie, except that the feeling was so intense this time it almost took your breath away. Not understanding where did this sudden unease come from, you clenched your fingers on your own seat and tried to calm down by focusing on Thomas’ speech. However, his words were soon covered by the thundering sound of your beating heart, whose pace had quickened so brutally that your whole ribcage was shaking at each pulse. 

Something was wrong. Definitely wrong. 

Fortunately enough, Pol’s last interjection about a different future for the Shelby company marked the end of that tense family reunion. Following a brief silence, you got up from your chair and put your left hand on one of Arthur’s shoulders. You were about to discreetly ask if you could leave but words remained stuck in your throat: the truth was you did not want to rob him of his family goodbye. So, you simply gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze before stepping back and waiting, even though the unexplainable urge to get out of this house worsened as minutes passed. 

“I’ll be off then, Tom.” He sniffed, “I’ll see you, eh? I’ll see you brother.” 

The humble farewell, sober like the rest of the Shelby’s way to show affection toward each other, pinched your heart. No matter the problems in which they got themselves or the endless arguments, there was love in this family. Broken, awkward, and sometimes violent love, but still. You quietly made your goodbyes too in the background — A nod of the head for Finn, Michael, Esmee, and uncle Charlie. A hug for Ada, Polly, Lizzie, and Curly. You thought you could handle it well until it came to John. Your eyes met his saddened pout, and your self-control break down. A single tear rolled down your cheek for the deep bond you had formed with him rendered the farewell more painful than with the other family members. Without uttering a single word, John pulled you in a bear hug so tight the pressure he exerted on your body was almost uncomfortable, but you could not care less. You gently rub his broad back with your hands and, when the moment to pull away happened, you laid a long kiss on his cheek. 

“I’ll miss you, little Angel.” 

“We’ll see each other. I promise.” 

The last thing you did was look away and do your best not to meet his gaze because you know you would probably burst into tears if you did. John religiously followed the same rules, otherwise, he would take you in his arms again and never let you go. Fortunately enough, Arthur’s hand grabbed yours. The warm contact of his skin against yours sent a wave of comfort through your bones — but if it was enough to heal the pain of leaving, it was not to soothe the odd anxiety that was still creeping in your soul. The same anxiety that was screaming at you to leave this damn mansion right now. 

You grabbed the door handle, half reassured by your imminent departure when Tommy’s voice echoed through the office with the violence of a guillotine’s blade on a prisoner’s neck.

“You can go, but you won’t get far, Arthur.”

You froze, your heart missing a beat. In a protective reflex, you turned your head in one vivid movement and looked dagger at Tommy. If your jewel-like eyes could shoot bullets, Thomas Shelby would be lying in a pool of blood, dead and cold. What the hell would he make such a snarky remark to his brother? But the more you stared at him, the more the weight of your unease crushed you.  

Something was happening, you could feel it. Something awful.

“Ah. All right, Tom.” Arthur, not grasping the meaning behind Tommy’s words, brushed off the comment. You were both about to leave the room when another statement clipped your wings.

“I spoke to Moss last night. He told me that the Chief Constable of Birmingham has issued a warrant for your arrest. Murder, sedition, conspiracy to cause explosion.”

The shocking news crossed your body like a lightning bolt burning every inch of your flesh on its way. Stomach twisting, muscle tensing, you brought your hand to your open mouth to cover it.  Arthur blinked in surprise — he had to lean against you for his long legs threatened to collapse at any moment. His whole body started to shake as he realize the awful truth: they were coming to take him away. 

And just like a rain of deadly shooting stars, came the long list of accusations against the rest of the family members, all uttered with a cold and placid tone as if Thomas Shelby was reciting a lesson. Your head brutally spun. You felt nauseous.

“Wait a minute.” Arthur’s gruff voice exclaimed, filled with confusion and boiling anger, “What the hell you’re talking…”  He commented, his hand still in yours though it was the only thing that could ground him — which was the case. 

“And you Heaven… “

You just stared at Tommy with eyes wide open, while the whole world crumbled apart around you. Contrary to Arthur, you did not even shake. Nor you did burst into anger. You were just here, paralyzed by the sound of your dreams and hopes shattering like glass smashed on concrete.

“For the involvement in Hughes’ death and the murder of Simon Conrad, his fellow friend.” 

You let go off Arthur’s hand and took a few steps back, until your back hit the wall behind you, “You’ve sold us…” Your voice was merely a whisper. Your heart skipped another beat in your chest, running a race against the panic that was crashing against you like a rogue wave on a boat’s hull. The only thing that kept you anchored to reality was Arthur’s mad screams.

“You’re my brother!”

“Listen to me, I have made a deal — “

“They’ll hang us!!”

“In return for giving evidence against them.”

“We’ll fucking hang!” 

And then it happened. You snapped out of your lethargic state, brushing off the petrifying anxiety that had turned you to stone. You broke free from the shock and ignited like hellfire. With furious steps, you rushed to the two brothers and pointed to Tommy with one finger, “Toi, espèce de sale traitre -you damn traitor-,” You started in French. Tommy’s empty eyes fell on your tiny frame, doing their best to hide his emotions. The truth was he perfectly understood what you had just said, “Your own fucking family… You know what?” Your face distorted with disgust, “It was not the sapphire Thomas. It was you. It was you all along.” You spat.

Despite Thomas’ neutral demeanor, the flames that lit up his frozen irises left no doubt about the impact of your words. You had hurt him — not only him but his very own soul, to the point you could almost see the ice of his eyes melting. 

“Come here, come here!” Arthur’s powerful hands grabbed you by the shoulders and forced you to follow him, “Come on now, we have to run!” The oldest took one last look at his brother, pain, and rage making his steel-blue eyes glisten, “FUCK YOU!” He roared, hitting the door with the palm of his hand.

Indistinct Screaming. Yelling. Chaos.

You had barely exited the office when a police officer grabbed you and shoved you against the nearest wall. Your hand lost its grip on Arthur and, without his contact, frost settled in your heart 

“Arthur!” You screamed. Or at least you thought you did.

“DON’T TOUCH HER! Heaven!” 

Brutally squeezed between the wall and the officer’s body, you still extended one of your arms in a desperate attempt to reach Arthur but it was in vain. When the policeman noticed it, he twisted your wrist behind your back. A whimper of pain escaped from your lips. What happened next you could not tell, for the chaos that swallowed you made everything fade to black. All you could grasp was the sensation of the handcuff metal, as shiny as the golden ring around your finger, biting your skin, and the sound of Arthur’s screams in the faraway distance.

They said until Death do us part, but you had not expected it that soon.

“Careful with this one. She’s put two of my guards into hospital. That bitch’s fucking feral.”

“That’s okay.” A feminine voice replied to the police officer in charge of your cell’s security. 

The sound of the lock echoed in your small cage, soon followed by the metallic creaking of the heavy door that was keeping you from escaping. When the woman entered the cell, she could not help but frown and look at his colleague with genuine confusion. Police Officer Katlyn Wilson, a tall blonde woman with her hair cut short and her face as hard as her heart, had seen a lot throughout her career. But it is evident she did not expect what was awaiting for her in this cell: right in the middle of the room sat a young woman, in her mid-twenties, on the bed. She had a long white mane that cascaded down her lower back. A marvelous mane, dirtied by the cell’s dust and dampness. Kat Wilson shook her head: you could not be the dangerous inmate they called her for. She sighed, staring at your juvenile face. 

“Heaven Lavey.” 

You raised your head when she called your name, your aquamarine eyes burning with hatred. Yet, not the slightest sound came out of your mouth. All you did was stare at the officer.

“I am Kat Wilson, and I am here to bring you to the gallows by order of the crown.” 

“They took my wedding ring.” You cut her off, your voice sounding a bit raspy after days of not talking. Somehow, you did not care about getting hung high — you were not afraid of death. What scared you though was to be alone, far away from Arthur. 

“They did. They told me that was the reason behind your assault on the guards.”

“Only one of them. The other tried to touch me.”

“So you broke his wrist.” She replied straight away.

You fell back into silence, not wanting to talk about the mentioned incident. Officer Kat Wilson shook her head, astounded by the whole situation. As fierce as she was, she took no pleasure in sending a young girl to the rope, no matter the first-degree murder accusations. The tall blonde woman, whose severe traits inspired a natural authority, walk to the bed and sat next to you despite his colleague’s warning. She let out a long sigh and took off a little golden ring from the pocket of her jacket. Your face enlightened when you recognized the jewel.

“Unfortunately, my power vanishes at this prison’s gates. I cannot stop this execution, but I can give back the young bride’s ring.” As she talked, she put the ring in the palm of your hand and watched you close your grip around it. 

“Fine.” You finally whispered as you slipped the jewel around your finger. What else could you do except obey?  Any attempt of rebellion would result in failure. You got up from the bed, standing on your bare feet with all your little height.

So petite but so fierce, she thought. 

“Fine,” Officer Wilson repeated. Gathering all her strength, she handcuffed you with your hands behind your back and, with one unexpectedly strong grip, led you out of the cell and forced you to walk through the long, dark corridors of the prison. 

The sound of the guards’ boots resonated against the stone walls, contrasting with your own silent steps. Even if your heart raced in your chest, you managed to stay calm. Deprived of your man’s comfort, you tried to find your peace in small details:, the cold and smooth surface of the wood under your bare feet, the faint summer breeze coming from an opened window somewhere, the muffled sound of birds' whistles... All of these allowed you to keep a semblance of sanity.

Kat Wilson brought you to the gallows, which was in a dark wooden warehouse. You swallowed at the sight of the noose, slowly swinging from left to right as if every fiber of the rope itself shivered with impatience at the idea of tightening around your soft throat.

You climbed the stairs and each step felt like you were dancing tango on your broken dreams. The dull silence that was hovering above the warehouse was chilling, but you preferred it to the vain prayers of priests. No matter how hard they begged God, you knew your place was down there. Dying was bothering enough, there was no need to sprinkle the process with hypocrisy. A muffled cries came from the other room — they were going to hang another woman at the same time.

Polly, you thought.

When they put the deadly necklace of rope around your neck and narrowed it until its burning texture bit your skin, you inhaled deeply through your nostrils and stared right at Kate Wilson’s eyes. Here you stand, powerful even in your last moments.

Boom. Boom.

The deafening sound of your beating heart played the drums of the fanfare that was already announcing your arrival in Hell. 

“Go ahead.”  You closed your eyes.

You did not cry. You did not beg.

After all, it was always meant to end like this.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ Gif by the lovely @alicent-targaryen

✞ Each of chapter of this series can be read as stand-alone even though it's far more enjoyable if you have read at least the previous chapter.

Tag: @meowtastick @babayaga67 @sired-to-hybridrid @shelbyssins @kxnnxyasdfg @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @woofgocows @abyssal-whispers

[fussymeanie999]

first time - loki laufeyson x plus-size reader

WARNING: this is going to be around 90% dirty smut. you have been warned. mentions of: cunnilingus, deepthroat, facefucking, unprotected sex, breeding, first time

synopsis: reader feels extremely insecure about her figure, loki finds her being absolutely destroyed, he decides to show her how beautiful she is.

a/n: also, i like used a scene from my mad fat diary for one of the dialogues (another one of my favourite shows), so all creds to them! i also used a monologue called "corsets and courtship" for some of loki's quotes by @tomhiddlestonsoundalike on tumblr so all credz to him and whoever wrote the text!

enjoy, my plussize queens (or whoever's reading this lol)

+++

you stood in front of your mirror, in your undergarments, looking at your own reflexion, your fingers grazing your own skin, cringing at every bump or texture you felt. your skin wasn't as soft as you'd want it to be. it wore many marks, wether from your skin stretching or plain old cellulite. you had some pimples, some scarring... you hated it. all of it. you just wished you were perfect. you weren't skinny, that was for sure. you weren't even mid-size. you were a big girl. and as much as you'd want to pretend you weren't, there were times where that was impossible. you didn't fit in any "regular sizes" and not every store had a plus-size section. you were afraid to eat in front of people. you couldn't even be intimate with your boyfriend.

ah. your boyfriend. your boyfriend's name was loki. and he was probably the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes upon. well, not a man. technically he was an alien. or a god? he came from asgard. a different planet and it honestly baffled you that a literal god would go for someone like you, when he could get anyone he ever wanted. you couldn't believe what you were hearing when he revealed his feelings for you. of course you were hopelessly in love with him but you just couldn't believe he felt the same way. fat girls never get the hot guys. at least not in any story you ever heard, especially not in your life. you never had a boyfriend. no one had really shown any interest in you and you didn't either. mostly because you didn't think anyone would feel the same.  you didn't feel as though you deserved to be with anyone, you were too big, too unattractive, too insecure. so you never really tried. until loki came around.

he became part of your life almost a year ago to this day. he was your first kiss, first date, first everything. the only first that was missing was... your first time. yes. you were a virgin. a fat virgin at that. you didn't even let loki see you without a shirt on. the mere thought made you burst into tears, imagining different improbable scenarios where he'd be so disgusted by your figure he'd leave you. but you wanted to. you wanted him to see you and you wanted him to touch you. you wanted him in every sense of the term, but you couldn't bring yourself to reveal your body to him when the time came. he was always understanding, listening to your wishes and never made you feel like you had to do anything you didn't want to do. but you could feel how much it made him ache to not be able to be with you the ways he wanted to. it made you ache as well.

you grabbed at your fat, your jiggly rolls, covered in purple stripes and you couldn't help the tears that threatened to fall, roll down your cheek. your small cries suddenly became sobs, and they became louder and louder, as your brain was flooded with images of loki's face, disgusted in your figure. you let yourself fall onto the bed, feeling your stomach touch your thighs, making your sobs grow even louder. you held your stomach in one of your hands and and the other directed itself on your face, massaging your temple, feeling your heart beat inside your head.

you thought you were alone. you really did.

you heard the door of your bedroom creak. your head immediately jolted up as your glistening eyes met with familiar blue-ish green orbs. you grabbed the nearest blanket and covered your almost naked body, your sobs completely stopping but your tears still melted away on your round cheeks.

your raven-haired lover walked in the room, carefully.

"oh my sweet girl, what has happened?" the god said softly, carefully kneeling in front of you.

he slowly held out his hand to meet yours with confusion, worry and a hint of sadness in his eyes, but you quickly dodged it and got up, covering your entire front side with the blanket and quickly turning around so he couldn't see the back of you.

"nothing" you struggled to say, in between cries, still backing away from him.

you continued walking backwards until your lower back hit the dresser. you looked down, for a few quick seconds and when you looked back up, your lover was only a mere 2 inches away from your face. he cupped your visage with his hands and softly wiped your dried tears with the back of his thumb.

" you know how much i trust you my darling..." he started. " ... but this doesn't look like nothing."

he started slowly stroking your hair and brushing it with his fingers. you tried avoiding his stare but it was useless, as he was grabbing your face and lifted your chin up to make you look at him straight in the eyes.

as his stare felt as though it was piercing through your soul, you couldn't contain your cries anymore.

" be honest with me... i beg of you... it pains me to see you like this" he pleaded.

you started to contain your sobs a bit better, but you still felt so much pain.

" why... why are you with me loki...?" you were able to blurt out.

confusion. confusion was all that was written over his face. he also looked a bit hurt.

his stare started going around the room, trying to find an answer to your question. his hands, that previously were cupping your face, slid down to your throat and rested on your collarbone, his thumb drawing circles over your thyroid.

"what kind of question is that?" he said, annoyance in his voice. you were afraid you made him angry.

"loki... you can have anyone you want, alright? you're a god..." you said, tears still brimming the sides of your eyes.

loki looked at you with so much hurt, it was hard to keep eye contact.

" you're an 11, and i'm a two at best..." you proceeded. "most people, when they see us, out in public, or on social media, they must be thinking; "oh he must be absolutely mad going out with that..." you stopped yourself when you saw loki's facial expression go from hurt to raging.

"that what?" he asked firmly.

you didn't answer.

"THAT WHAT?" he screamed, making you jump.

he put a hand over his mouth, trying to calm himself down.

"how many times do i have to tell you, y/n?" he started. "you are my person. my woman. my everything. you are the most magnificent being my eyes ever laid upon. the most beautiful creature in all of the nine realms. can't you see? can't you? because i can. i see it everyday. i don't have to see you bare to know. never say that to me again, you understand? do you? do you understand?" he said, starting softly and becoming more firm.

his hands were still hanging by your collarbone, but you felt them grip at your skin, desperate for your understanding, for your touch, for you.

"... i" you started. "i d-do..." you stuttered through sniffles.

he looked at you directly in the eyes. you knew he loved you.

'but not enough.' you thought to yourself.

your love carefully placed his lips upon yours. his lips that you were familiar with. lips you kissed thousands of times. lips you loved. lips you longed for. you needed. the kiss he planted was one of the most delicate kisses he'd ever given you, but at the same time, one of the most passionate. it felt like all of the love he felt for you he poured out into you and in that moment, you felt like nothing could come between you two.

"p-please don't leave me, loki..." you cried out after the kiss.

"my love, my love, my love... never. i love you." he reassured you, stroking your hair.

he planted kisses all over your face, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your eyelids, and then back to your lips, this time with more hunger. it was like all of the times he had to restrain himself, when you felt like you weren't ready, completely melted into that kiss. all of his passion, his love, his hunger, his despair, and more importantly his lust, he finally let it all out and you let it all in.

"loki..." you panted in between kisses.

"mmh... yes my love?" he said, intensifying and deepening his kisses more and more.

you hesitated. but you knew. you knew you were ready.

"i-...mmh... i want you." you said, desperation tinting your voice, sounding almost like a plea.

loki slowed down. he took a minute to look at you in the eyes. he wasn't sure what to say. he wasn't even sure what you were saying.

"what?" was all he could muster up to say.

you looked at him with a little more confidence and nodded slowly.

the look on his face was priceless. he would finally be able to be with you.

"a-are you sure about this, love?" he said, sounding like he had just won the lottery.

you nodded again.

he grabbed the sides of your head firmly and leaned in to kiss you once more. his hands trailed down the sides of your body and started playing with the blanket that you were still holding firmly in your hands. you were scared to let go. to be completely bare to him.

"i'm afraid you're gonna have to let this go, my darling." he whispered in you ear, taking the chance to leave a wet kiss on your lobe, slightly biting down on it.

he grabbed your shaking hands in his, drawing circles with his thumb softly against yours.

"give yourself to me, little one... let me see you, touch you, feel you, taste you. i beg... i beg of you." he whispered again, pressing his forehead against yours.

you breathed heavily. you wanted him to see you. to touch you, feel you...

the wall you had built had always seemed so hard to knock down... but in this moment though, that wall seemed to be made of silk. all you had to do was let it go.

"okay..." you said, in the softest voice you ever spoke.

you backed away from loki and walked backwards a few feet. you were now standing the back of your knees faced towards the end of the bed. loki was staring at you proufoundly, awaiting your reveal impatiently.

your hands were trembling. you had nightmares about this moment. you had panic attacks for this moment. this moment was everything. but something about loki... was it the way he stood? the way he spoke? was it his stare? something about him made you feel safe. safer than you had ever felt before tonight.

so you let go.

you felt the blanket reach your toes. you cringed. so you closed your eyes, not wanting to witness loki's disappointment. you awaited any second now a hurl, a disgusted sound or a hurtful comment. but none of that.

you carefully opened your eyes, only to find loki with a gaping mouth, having the most amazing look on his face. a look of pure love, of endless attraction and mesmerising lust.

he approached you slowly, making each of his step count. when he finally reached you, he immediately pressed his forehead against yours. though your eyes were staring down at your feet, you could feel his stare devouring you.

he carefully placed his hand upon yours and let it trail up your arm. then back down again, giving you chills.

he didn't say anything. not a word. what was he thinking?

"i... i look disgusting i know, i'm so sorry. i know i disappoint..." you said, starting to regret the blanket had reached the floor.

you heard loki sigh so heavily.

"you... have got to be joking, love..." were the first words he spoke after seeing your figure. you heard the smile through his voice.

"in all of my..." he started. you heard him swallow before continuing. "in all of my 1056 years of living... never... and i mean never... have i ever witnessed such beauty before this night. my sweet, sweet girl, i simply do not understand why you felt the need to hide."

his hand reached your face and kissed you so passionately, you felt a sort of... heat at the bottom of your stomach. it was an unfamiliar feeling.

that same hand made its way to your neck, then to your shoulder and started playing with one of your bra straps. eventually, he completely took it off and did the same with the other strap.

"you have no idea what you are doing to me right now..." the god said, in a lower, hungrier voice.

"what am i doing to you?" you asked, innocently.

in between kisses, you could feel loki smirk against your lips.

his hand went from your shoulder, trailed down your arm and grabbed your hand in his. he took it and before you knew it he pressed it upon himself. his black, silky, suit pants were showing a bulge in between his legs and that's exactly where he put your hand.

he was hard.

when you first touched it, you heard a whimper come from your lover. god, he needed you.

"this... this is what you are doing to me, darling."

you couldn't believe the words he was saying to you. you felt as though you were in a sort of dream. loki wanted you. he was... quite literally hard for you.

loki grabbed your hair and pulled your head back so you were looking at him. his eyes went extremely dark.

"lay down. on the bed. now." he demanded firmly.

you obeyed his commands in the blink of an eye. you were ready.

you laid down on the bed, on your backside, carefully. when you got comfortable you looked up at loki and saw him looking at you, with hungrier eyes. eyes that were darker and more lustful than ever. he was devouring you with his eyes and he made sure to capture every square inch of skin of your body.

with only a smirk and the flick of a hand on your partner's part, your bra disappeared in a light green magic, leaving your breasts uncovered and nipples starting to harden.

loki obviously couldn't contain himself any longer and almost jumped on top of you, kissing you savagely, making his way down your neck, leaving all sorts of love marks, some darker than others. some of them were painful but the pain only reminded you that this was real. when he got to your breasts, you could almost see his mouth water.

he carefully grabbed one with his hand, keeping eye contact with you the whole time.

"so soft, so plump... for me. oh god, sweetheart you're giving me such a delight"

and with no warning he started giving you small licks, around your nipple, carefully approaching your most sensitive part, which he enthusiastically started to flick with his tongue. the sudden pleasure rose your voice as you let out a small whimper, begging for more.

"yes... yes my sweet girl... let it out... show me how much you want this" he said in a raspier voice.

you found your fingers playing with his raven-black locks, as his mouth played with your brown-ish pink buttons.

he did so for some while, until he felt your hand grasp at his vest. you wanted him to reveal himself to you as well. he got the message pretty quickly.

he looked up from his meal, giving you the same amount of eye contact, as he took off his black blazer, black tie and black vest. all he had on were his bottoms but you were too worried about his beautiful torso to notice. you let your hands wonder on his pale chest, feeling the softness of his skin, some of his hair, up to his pecs, you couldn't believe it. how can this man become even more beautiful?

"like the view, my love?" he asked. you enthusiastically nodded.

he bent down to leave more love bites over your torso and your breasts. he started to slowly go down your body leaving kisses under your breast, going even nearer to the most insecure part of your body. you cringed and whimpered again, but this time in a less of a pleasurable manner, remembering all of your stretch marks and cellulite, knowing he'll be disappointed.

"i... couldn't... be... more... in... love..." he breathed out between his wet kisses. he was now definitely directly on your tummy.

he looked up, knowing you wouldn't like this part. he met your eyes and definitely noticed your hesitation.

he got back up, towering over you. he bent back down, catching your lips in his.

he carefully started stroking your hair, in the most loving manner you could ever imagine. he looked at you straight in the eyes, seeming like he was trying to deliver a message directly to your soul.

"what have i done to deserve you?" he asked, his voice choking in between his words.

those words completely melted your aching heart.

it was your turn to touch him. you said nothing as you slowly stroked his cheek with the back of your hand, giving him your approval by a shake of the head.

he smiled and his head disappeared to your stomach again.

you could feel his hands rome around your entire body and his mouth leaving wet kisses over your stomach. his long raven hair still trailed around higher up on your torso, nearer to your breasts.

he finally got to the place his own body longed for the most.

at this point you were completely damp and you awaited his reaction to your wetness impatiently.

he quickly gave you one of the hungrier and most impatient look you'd ever seen him give you.

he got up in front of the bed, looking you up and down like a predator looks at its prey and with the flick of hand, yet again, loki made your panties disappear in a light shimmering green magic, leaving you completely bare. all that was covering you up were your legs, still pressed firmly together.

loki carefully placed his hands over your bare knees. he could feel you trembling. was it from excitement? nervousness? or desire?

"open up for me, my love... let me in" he said in a demanding, pleading voice.

you slowly started to comply and let your legs go loose. your lover took it upon himself and slowly spread your thighs apart. he couldn't believe his eyes.

he was letting himself finally see your aching core. he could see it glistening, it was calling to him, begging for his touch. he was the one the one responsible and he'd never felt prouder. he admired every fold, every forgotten hair you missed while shaving, everything about it was inviting.

"oh my sweet sweet girl... look at the state of you. don't you understand how long i've been waiting? to see you in this position, completely at my mercy, legs spread, only for me..."

he gulped and whimpered at the sight of you, as you spread you legs even further. he could feel the tightness in his pants become almost unbearable. he'd never been this aroused before in his entire life. but first, he needed a taste of you.

he slowly started leaving wet kisses over your thighs, getting closer and closer to your velvet folds. his hands traveled your entire body. your body, that felt as though it had been set on fire. he once again cupped one of your breasts and started flicking your nipples with his fingertips. you let yet another whimper escape your lips, needing him more than you've ever needed anyone.

you felt his hot breath against your wet love box and that was all it took to make you go insane.

"p-please..." you pleaded to the god.

he took your scent in, smelling the most mouth-watering aroma he ever got the chance to smell in all of his 1000 years.

"you don't have to ask me twice, my sweetness..." were his last words before delving in.

he placed his fingers upon your aching core, exploring all of your folds, he couldn't believe how wet you were.

"darling... you are dripping..."

he let his fingers trail for a few seconds, until they reached your entrance. he circled it with the tip of his finger as he finally placed his lips right on top of your sensitive button.

the sudden, unfamiliar sense of pleasure, completely took you by surprise as you yelped.

his tongue peaked through after a few kisses planted on your clitoris. it circled in the same motions his finger was making to your entrance. he was so soft, so cautious. but you could feel the heat in the bottom of your stomach growing darker, more demanding so you placed you hands on the top of your lover's head, brushing your fingers through his hair and slightly pushing his head down on your core.

loki got the message, as his circles became more passionate and as he started flicking his tongue aggressively at your core.

you felt your entire body tremble in desire as loki's finger plunged itself in between your folds, exploring your insides.

you were now moaning deliberately, wanting him to add digits. you thought you'd be more resistant, you thought it'd be a little painful, even but all you could feel was pleasure.

"more..." you pleaded.

as the words were still hanging from your lips, loki plunged yet another finger in, and this time, you did feel a little resistance but you didn't care. you wanted him. you wanted him so much.

his tongue was working wonders on your clit. you would think the man hadn't eaten in days at the sight of him. he was completely devouring you and you could feel the pleasure build up inside of you.

the mixture of his fingers pumping in and out of you, and his tongue flicking at your sensitive button, all of it was too much for you to handle. you felt something was coming.

"loki... l-loki... something... something's happening." you panted, in between moans.

he didn't stop. he knew what he was doing. he went harder, his tongue completely destroying you.

"i can feel it as well... your heat... your wetness... let yourself come undone, my sweet... for me" he whispered, panting, in between licks.

'come undone?' you thought. but before you knew it, you felt it. the highest peak of pleasure your body had ever felt in its life. you felt your thighs squeeze around the god's head, squashing him a little. you didn't want to hurt him but you couldn't contain yourself, as you screamed his name, not believing that amount of pleasure was even possible. it was electrifying. your whole body reacted, you were sweating. you put your hand over your mouth and bit down your finger to stop yourself from becoming a screaming mess, but it was already too late, as you rode your orgasm out to the last bit of pleasure you could conquer up.

"you taste even sweeter than i thought you would, sweet girl" he said, giving the nickname a whole different meaning.

you let out a huge sigh, slowly coming back to your senses. you looked up as loki got up from between your legs, his hand still caressing your folds slowly and placed a delicate kiss on your lips. you tasted what you thought was yourself. oddly enough, you didn't cringe, you hadn't found yourself to taste disgusting. it was... kind of erotic actually.

"loki i..." you started. you didn't know how to ask. "i want to..." you sighed out.

"say it, darling" he said, stroking your hair, still caressing in between your legs.

"i want to taste you... too" you finally let out.

you wanted to make him feel as good as he made you feel. you wanted to thank him in a way.

he was surprised. he didn't think you were ready.

"you made me feel so good today... i want to reciprocate the feeling... y'know..." you said, shyly.

loki's hand pulled at your hair to make you look at him.

"is that what you want?" he asked, firmly. he grabbed your hand and slowly pressed it yet again on his throbbing member, through his tightening pants.

he sighed heavily, still looking at you straight in the eyes.

you nodded, slowly. he smirked.

"then, get on your knees."

you obeyed.

you liked how he commanded you and guided you through all of your movements. you were nervous he wasn't going to enjoy, but the anticipated look on his face told you otherwise. also, the throbbing length in his pants.

you were now on your knees, on the floor, at the end of the bed and loki was sitting, his still clothed legs spread, inviting you in.

you started to slowly stroke his thigh, rubbing your hand up and down, each time getting closer to his private. you did the same thing with his other thigh, feeling the god getting impatient with your teasing.

you finally placed your hand over his member, giving it a small squeeze. you heard your lover grunt, at only your touch.

"you're eager" you stated, looking up at him. he gave you a smirk.

"less talking." he said, darkly.

you complied, massaging his bulge through his pants.

when you finally unzipped them, you heard your lover let out a sigh of relief. you wanted to bring them down to his ankles, but loki, being impatient, made them disappear in his green magic.

"hey. let me work." you said, in more of a joking way.

"i said... less talking" he repeated.

you noticed a small wet spot on his grey boxers. you bent down, without touching it, smelling it.

you felt the god squirm under you, eager to feel you around him.

you carefully, and slowly took his boxers down, letting his member spring free of its shackles, finally revealing itself to you.

he was huge. it was veiny, its tip was a dark pink, almost red, it was pale like the rest of his body. but most importantly, it was enormous.

"like the view, my love?" he asked for the second time that night.

you nodded your head enthusiastically. all you wanted was to get a taste.

you carefully approached your hand to the hot spot. the second your fingers reached his skin, loki whimpered. it was burning up, but it was so soft. you felt the veins under your fingertips, and suddenly it was like you knew exactly what to do. you carefully started stroking him and ran your thumb over the most sensitive part of his shaft, his frenulum, and heard him whimper once again.

"please" he pleaded, imitating your pleas from earlier.

"you don't have to tell me twice" you imitated as well.

you approched his tip to your lips and delicately gave him a soft kiss. his skin was so warm.

you continued giving him small pecks but you felt him get, yet again, impatient with your teasing.

"oh come on..." he pleaded.

you looked at him. sweat was dripping down his forehead.

you then flipped his cock over, back to his stomach to give yourself full access to the base of his member. you placed your tongue directly in between his balls and shaft and worked your way up to his tip, making sure you passed by his sensitive junction between his red bulb and the rest of his penis. directly after, you put his tip in your mouth and started bobbing your head back and forth, tasting the drops of pre-cum he deposited on your tongue.

you heard him moan, some cusses flew out of his mouth, he moaned mainly your name, or called you by all sorts of nicknames.

"oh my, oh my... you're doing so good... mmh... g-good girl..." he moaned out.

his words were able to bring back that heat at the bottom of your stomach. you slowly directed your hand in between your thighs and started stroking your own bundle of nerves. loki didn't seem to notice, too lost in the waves of pleasure you were giving him.

he was now moaning deliberately. he tried... he really tried, but he couldn't contain himself anymore, he grabbed your head, pulled you by your hair and pushed your head down to take more of his shaft. you awaited a gag or any sort of resistance on your part, really, but nothing came.

loki got up from where he was sitting, your head still enveloping his shaft and started moving back and forth, you being completely at his mercy. he was deliberately fucking your face, and you let him.

he moaned your name so many times you'd lost count. he became more and more agressive with each thrust until all of his shaft was buried down your throat. he held your head down for a few seconds, gripping at your hair, letting his cock sit in your mouth, until he finally pulled out, a strand of saliva escaping your lips. he was out of breath, but not as much as you.

"you feel so good, my love. you're doing amazing" he said, panting.

you gave him a few kitten licks, asking for more. he buried his cock again down your throat, pumping in and out. he was fucking your face as though it was a cunt, using your throat as a mere hole that was made to mold his shaft perfectly.

you weren't gagging which surprised you. you'd never tested your gag reflex, but obviously you didn't have any.

you felt him go faster and faster until he once again, suddenly stopped as your head was completely enveloping his shaft. but this time, he started grunting and moaning, louder, in more of an animalistic way, holding your head down, hard, as deep as he could go.

"i- i'm cumming, love" he grunted out.

suddenly, you could taste bitterness, saltiness explode in your mouth, and run down your throat. your first instinct was to spit it out, but your god kept your head in place, making you swallow. it felt never ending. he kept cumming and cumming. you thought the taste would repulse you, from what you had heard from friends and the internet, but you honestly didn't find it to be that disgusting.

he stayed in that same position, holding your head in place, for another ten to fifteen seconds after he came. you felt his cock twitch in your mouth and he finally removed himself.

you took a deep breath, considering you could finally breathe properly.

loki knelt down to your level. he looked at your face. fortunately, you weren't wearing makeup, so no makeup to ruin. your eyes were red, tears had run down your face, you had spit all over the sides of your face, and some of loki's cum had fallen out of the corners of your mouth. he wiped it with his thumb and took it up to your mouth.

you sucked his thumb dry, tasting him yet again.

he gave you a loving smile.

"mine." he simply said, in a soft manner.

he then kissed you in the most loving way he could, tasting himself on your lips.

he then backed away, looking you up and down, noticing your hand still wondering around in between your thighs. he smirked and locked eyes with you.

"i think we're gonna have to take care of that." he said, as he got up. he was now standing up while you were still on your knees. you noticed his cock was hard again, once it got to your eye level. how was that even possible? how could he be hard again this quick? you had to remind yourself he did have the stamina of a god. he handed you his hand for you to take, which you did.

he got you up and carefully placed his hands on the sides of your head and started stroking your hair.

"are you still sure you want to do this my love?" he asked.

you chuckled.

"after what we've done? i'm pretty sure there's no backing up now?"

he gave you a confused look.

"of course there is. i'm not gonna do anything you're not comfortable doing, sweetheart." he said.

you sighed at your poor choice of words.

"and i know that." you started. "but i'm ready. i want you... loki."

he smiled yet again. he didn't say a word. he just kissed you. it was a passionate kiss, like all of your others that night. his hands roamed around your body as if it was discovering it again for the first time.

taking you by surprise, he lifted you up, flipped you around and threw you on the bed. never had you been picked up before. you always thought you'd break the person's spine. but loki lifted you up so easily, you felt like a feather.

"you're mine" the god grunted, as he plunged on top of you. he spread your legs open, as far as he could and positioned himself right between them.

he reached down to your bundle of nerves and drew circles with his fingers like he did earlier. he wound up plunging his fingers inside you yet again, prepping you for what was about to replace them. you could feel his length harden even more against your thigh, as he did so.

you started whimpering, wanting more than just his digits to fill you.

your whimpers were like music to loki's ears. he loved hearing how much you longed for him. he loved seeing you squirm under him. he enjoyed feeling all powerful, having that much control over you.

"take me" you sighed out, looking at your lover straight in the eyes. you couldn't hold it in anymore. you needed him. you needed him inside you. now.

he smirked as he bent down, to leave a soft kiss on your forehead.

"tell me when you want to stop, my darling. use your words." he asked of you.

you nodded, agreeing to his words, whilst trying to spread your legs even further.

his fingers left your core, leaving you needy and wanting to feel him once more, but they were quickly replaced by what you knew was his tip. he started slowly moving back in forth in between your folds, teasing at your entrance.

he gave you a look, pleading for approval.

you slowly nodded, ready to take him in.

you felt his his bulb starting to peak inside of you. you winced, feeling a slight resistance.

he stopped. but you nodded again, asking for him to continue.

as he buried his shaft deeper in you, it started to really hurt. for real this time.

"ow, ow. stop." you asked. "but stay inside. just stay... stay like this. let me- let me adjust."

he listened to you.

"are you okay, my love?" he asked, still halfway inside of you.

you nodded again, breathing heavily. you knew you could do it. you wanted to.

"p-... proceed." you said.

he listened to you again, burying himself entirely in you. he let out a loud grunt. your walls had adjusted to the size of his member and it felt less painful.

your lover moaned again.

"you.. are so tight, oh my. you feel so good." he panted.

you smiled. you loved seeing him in this much pleasure. you loved the passionate, lustful look on his face, all of it was for you.

he started moving back and forth, slowly, being really careful of each and every one of your movements, analyzing if you wanted to continue or not.

the first few thrusts were painful but eventually the pain left and absolute ecstasy took its place.

loki noticed the change in you and decided to give his thrusts more power, barely able to contain himself. he pumped in and out of your aching core at a medium rate. he wanted to go faster, harder but he stayed careful.

but you... you wanted more. you started clawing at loki's back, bringing him closer to you and leaving red scratches all over his back. you kissed his neck, his torso, leaving him the same bruises he left you earlier, though yours weren't as agressive as his. yours were small, red, but his eventually became huge purple bruises. and you had them all over your body. he started leaving you some more, on your neck, your collarbone, imitating your movements.

"more..." you pleaded.

he smirked against your skin, left you yet another passionate kiss on your lips and with that, his thrusts became harder, more agressive, much faster. you felt as if he was trying to crawl inside of you.

you both started moaning and screaming each other's names at the top of your lungs. your lover got up, detaching his torso from yours, trying to find an angle where he could go deeper inside of you. you wanted him back, missing the heat of his body. you reached out to him with your arm, but he firmly grabbed it, stopping you in your tracks. you were surprised. he looked down at you, staring at you straight in the eyes. his eyes went dark. his hand that had stopped your movement, trailed up from your hand, to you elbow and up your arm, until it reached the crook between your shoulder and your neck. his thumb drew circles over your cheek, then your chin and finally on your throat. you didn't even have the time to realise but his hand had completely wrapped itself around your throat, choking you slightly. you could still breathe completely fine, but his hand held your head in space, as his thrusts became even harder, if that was even possible.

he started panting, completely losing himself in the moment.

he bent down again, still holding your throat in his hand. he grabbed you and forced your face to be centimetres from his.

"mine." he said in a deep, grunting voice.

that word was the one that completely sent you over the edge. you could feel your walls clench around his member, your were close. you needed your release.

"loki... i'm close." you tried sighing out.

he understood you perfectly. the hand he wasn't using to choke you found its way down between your legs and started playing agressively at your clit.

"let go, baby... let go" he panted.

you couldn't hold it in anymore. you let your orgasm take control of your entire body. your legs were shaking, your hips started grinding against loki's, your hands scratched at his back even deeper, your eyes were rolling back inside your head, and your mouth gaped wide open, letting all sorts of cusses fly out of your mouth.

as you rode out your orgasm, you knew loki was close as well. seeing you in this intense state, all because of him, sent him over the edge and he knew he couldn't hold on much longer.

you started grinding your hips even more agressively, trying to meet his.

"come on, baby..." you whispered in his ear, leaving all sorts of wet kisses and hickey's all over his body.

you ran your finger through his curls, pulling at his hair.

and that's when you knew. you felt his hand grasped at your throat even tighter, making you gasp for air. he stopped moving, buried deep inside of you.

"oh my fu..." he started, moaning loudly.

you had made some research about how it would be like to have someone cum inside of you. you found out most people couldn't feel it. but you did. you felt all of it. you felt a warmth completely invade your insides, it kept coming and coming, just like earlier but this time inside of you.

loki's hand was still wrapped around your throat, holding it firmly, but as his orgasm ended, he eventually loosened his grasp.

when he finally stopped coming, as he was still buried inside you, he finally looked up at you and left a wet kiss your lips.

"i love you" he said, out of breath.

"i love you too."

loki looked down and smirked, taking his hand off your throat.

"no... don't say it like that... don't say "too"... it sounds like you're just agreeing with me. say it for real..."

you scoffed a little, thinking his request to be a little ridiculous. but you understood. you ran your fingers through his raven locks, held his head between both your hands, making him look at you.

"i love you, loki... i love you." you said softly, staring into his ocean blue eyes.

he gave you a wide smile and kissed you once more. he gave you a kiss full of love and passion.

after your kiss, he slowly pulled out of you. you felt so full, a second ago, the absence of his shaft between your legs contrasted so much with the empiness you now felt.

loki bent down again between your thighs to watch his seed run out of you. it felt yet again, never ending, but loki watched attentively.

"what a beautiful sight... may i snap a picture?" he said, jokingly.

"shut up..." you said in the same tone.

he gave you one last lick to your core and licked his lips, not minding his cum, plastered over your folds.

"i'll get a towel..." he said, leaving one last peck on your lips.

"thank you, honey..." you thanked him softly.

as you layed, completely naked on your bed, you thought.

you no longer felt restrained in your own skin, not around him at least. he made you feel seen, loved, desirable. you hated your body a little bit less, now. you might even try eating in front of people! maybe... you and loki didn't just have sex that night. you made love. he didn't just take your virginity, he made you into a better, improved version of yourself.

you were never more in love with him than in that moment.

loki came back with a light pink towel. he rose your hips up in the air and deposited it under you. he used the other end of the towel to wipe his seed off you.

once you were clean, loki got back off the bed and put the towel back in the bathroom.

he joined you in bed and wrapped his arms around you.

you felt so good. better than you had in years. with him. you felt so loved.

you didn't want to move, but you remembered you had to pee after a sexual intercourse... you read it in a blog.

you nudged loki, trying to get off the bed, but loki held you back, making it impossible for you to move.

"don't... even think about it." he said firmly under his breath.

you chuckled.

"i'm gonna get a urinary tract infection... and it's gonna be on you." you said in an accusing manner.

"darling, i'm a god... i have super powers, you're not gonna get a... whatever sort of infection you're talking about."

you scoffed, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck, sighing heavily.

loki left a loving kiss on the top of your head and held you tighter.

"you're mine... all mine."

+++

word count: 7395.... comment if you liked it loveys!! what was your favourite part?

[rayofsunas]

s/o has freshly shaved legs. [2]

A/n: requested by anon, teehee. thank you!! also, not genshin related, but I just saw levi in the new season and whew, he could STILL get it if he asked :) also, to my readers out there, when I bring up “shoulder rides”, I know some some people may not feel comfortable with that (which is okay!), I didn’t type that to not include everyone, that’s why I wrote “he’s going to give you shoulder rides if you feel comfortable.” key word is comfortable, you guys can imagine this scene or not, it’s intended to not exclude anyone, despite size, etc. I only bring this up because I know a lot of readers may feel left out, but by insinuating comfortable, you’re free to imagine this or not! I hope I made sense/wasn’t rude <3 ;-; happy reading!!

Summary: s/o has freshly shaved legs.

Parings: Diluc/Reader, Xiao/Reader, Childe/Reader (all fem reader)

Warnings: swearing, nsfw themes implied, fluff?, crack

Word count: 1.5k

Diluc

Diluc is a pure GENTLEMAN, so he feels very guilty ogling at your legs

he’s drawn in because of how smooth and buttery (probably some lotion or oil he assumed) they look

eventually, after becoming embarrassed for staring, he’ll find the will to stop

after all, he’s a GENTLEMAN

but that doesn’t mean the thought of your legs leaves his mind, you’re dead fucking wrong

he can’t stop thinking about how soft they looked

if only he could reach out and touch you, just once, just for a second

goodness, he hates the way he feels and surprisingly, when Kaeya stops by the winery for his daily drink, diluc may or may not confide in his friend, brother, 

poor diluc, he’s too respectable and truly thinks it’s WRONG

“why can’t I stop staring at her legs?” he will mutter more to himself. “I feel disgusting.”

“well, she’s hot for one-”

poor Diluc, Kaeya is NO help, he only wants to flirt with you

Kaeya will continue to apologize and make cocky comments, but in the end he reassures it’s natural for lovers to feel this way

poor Diluc part 2

let's just say when he returns late in the dead of the night he refuses to even look at you

he’s so disturbed, poor boy, you’re probably his first s/o and he feels dirty for thinking lewdly about you from just seeing your thighs

he dips to your room so fast, he just wants to sleep it off

You were shocked, to say the least when he didn’t give you his usual hug and kiss on your cheek. Maybe he had a long day? That’s usually always the reason. But even then, before he retired for bed, he made sure to show some kind of affection. 

“Diluc, sweetheart, where are you going?” You called after him, ignoring how the servants kept trying to grab his jacket and hang it on one of the coat racks; he was having none of it.

“Bed.”

“Oh okay, wait, we can walk up together-” He was gone from sight. You sighed in annoyance, you disliked when he became distant. Nonetheless, you dismissed the three servants for the night and began traveling to your room.

Eventually, you arrived in your bedroom to find Diluc laying on the bed, clothes from today still on, as well as his boots. You clicked your tongue. Did he have to wear his boots in your bed? 

“Not even your boots are off?” You had said, shuffling around the bed to tug your lover's shoes off. He heard you grunt, seemingly having trouble with the simple task. 

In the meantime, he had taken notice of how you had shrugged off your robe and it was somewhere else in the room, leaving you only in a simple cotton nightgown. It wasn’t revealing at all, simple and classy how he liked it, but god damn it your legs were exposed.

A simple nightgown, that’s all it was, but why couldn’t it reach your ankles? No-he should not have such standards for you, especially when you’re comfortable. Why did he have to be so lewd...

“Was today a hard day? I didn’t see you after you left the winery earlier... Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He huffed, you mocked him, sitting next to him on the bed, eyeing him carefully. You shifted and although it wasn’t meant to reveal any more skin, the movement had... 

“I’m not a very good mind reader, so you’re going to have to tell me if somethings wrong-”

“Please don’t sit like that...”

“Like what? This is a normal sitting position.”

“Yes but...” He’d huffed again. You knew Diluc well enough to know that he wouldn’t say anything else, it seemed he was already having trouble enough.

“Are you being a horndog?” 

“A what- I’m sorry who are you?” He teased, though utterly confused. “You’ve been hanging out with Aether too much.”

“It’s okay, I saw you staring earlier. I don’t mind.”

poor Diluc

Diluc.exe has stopped working

he can’t believe he was stupid enough to stare AND get caught doing so

you’ll simply just respond by saying, “It’s okay, Diluc. I don’t mind, it makes me feel attractive. At least I’m doing something right.”

lol, it doesn’t matter though, he’s a blushing mess 

all he can think is that he’s better than kaeya, he has standards for himself, staring at a woman's thighs is NOT respectable

even if you’re his fiancee

Xiao

says he doesn’t care when you show him how smooth your legs are

ARGUES and SASSES you when you say you know he’s entranced 

he continues to say no

well guess what, he’s a stone-cold liar

he’ll probably stare once or twice, but otherwise won’t let you distract him

instead, he’ll touch your legs in private (as long as it’s okay with you)

he claims he doesn’t care, but he enjoys how soft they are

like wow

never in his life did he think someone could be so soft

all he wants to do is touch your legs, but sadly he has his duties

I think he’d be the type to touch your calves when in bed (just laying, pls no sexy times)

like when you’re both getting ready for bed, he’ll guide your leg to lay over his waist so it’s sorta hooked around him, and he’ll just rub your calves pls

he likes giving you a massage, it's his way of showing physical affection

and although it does lull you to sleep, the gesture is also comforting for him too

he loves your soft legs

pls don’t ever stop shaving as long as you’re comfortable (he loves you with shaved legs or not)

he may or may not become a little baby if he can’t touch your soft legs

like he’s not gonna shed tears

but, he’s gonna be BITTER AF

SALTY, is the right word

You just wanted to get up to use the bathroom, hell you were gonna pee your pants. But Xiao would not let go. Unfortunately, he’s a light sleeper, so he felt you shifting in the bed when you went to get up. 

“Don’t leave.” He whispered. 

“I have to pee, Xiao.” You said, guiding his prying hands away from your leg. 

“Your legs, soft. Please sleep,” He muttered incoherently, smoothing a calloused palm over your thigh. 

You frowned at the black and teal haired man. “I’m legit going to pee myself if you don’t let go.”

He didn’t answer. In conclusion, he’d fallen back asleep.

Childe

you knew better than to wear skirts, dresses; anything that revealed your legs

or else you’d be the subject of your boyfriend’s comments and staring

this was your own doing, childe thought, your fault

when he’s caught staring by you or anyone, he doesn’t care

as long as you’re comfortable, he doesn’t care that he stares at your legs

some of the elders around Liyue Harbor will scold him for his rudeness, calling him inappropriate

they dislike him so much, not all, but a good handful

but he DOES NOT CARE 

as long as you’re comfortable, he’ll continue to stare as long as he’d like

yes, even if he’s a perverted horndog, he’s still a respectable perverted horndog, he’s going to make sure you’re okay with everything he does/says

pls, he’s going to give you shoulder rides if you feel comfortable, just to nuzzle his cheeks into your inner thighs

and he’ll run his hands over smooth knees

he LIVES for your smooth legs, also just wanna say he doesn’t mind if you haven’t shaved your legs either, you’re gorgeous either way 

he’s the ultimate horndog and does not try to hide it, like Diluc and Xiao

he’s like Kaeya, but let’s be real he’s not going to try and fit every flirtatious comment into EVERY sentence like him

he’s more of a physical guy ;)

he’s going to leave lingering touches on your legs, pinch them teasingly, do whatever as long as he gets to touch them

just gonna say this, but kisses on smooth thighs? muah, he does this and has zero shame

not even during sexy times, he’ll do it if he’s laying his head on your legs and they happen to be exposed

he does not care, he can do whatever he wants, this is his way of showing his affection towards you

“You’re going to suffocate! Get your head out from between my thighs,” You scolded the orange-haired man. He chuckled, giving you very nonchalant vibes.

It was getting harder and harder to ignore the passersby’s stares, why did they have to be so nosy? Well... this wasn’t necessarily something everyone wanted to see, even if it was entirely innocent, it did look highly inappropriate. 

“Plus we’re in public, Childe!” You noted. 

“Please, who cares!” He taunted, nuzzling his head even further. Your face flushed hot. 

“Your legs are soft.”

“Yes, but do you have to do it like that? This looks wrong-”

As I said, he does not care!!

2.4.21, rayofsunas

[mrs-gucci]

Welcome Home {Sir Jacques Le Gris x Reader}

anonymous

Idk if your requests are closed, but PLEASE pepper in somewhere being held while Jacques rails you 🥵🥵

yes, technically they were closed when you submitted this, but uhh...I kinda needed this type of Le Gris content in my life so I went ahead and made an exception...and then wrote a whole oneshot dedicated to it lol.

warnings. SMUT, reader is Jacques’ wife, talks of conception, expectation of period-typical “wifely duties” (not by Jacques), P in V, barebacking/unprotected sex, creampie (w/ intent of conception), fluffy end. **no actual use of “Y/N” in this fic.

(possible) tw’s. sex with others (indirectly) involved, being held & touched by a third party during sex (period-authentic), voyeurism (as a result).

word count: 1.3k

A knock comes on the bedroom door and you sit up. The other ladies giggle softly with excitement and you quietly shush them, unable to help giggling a bit yourself. He’s going to be so surprised.

“Who is it?”

“Helen of Troy.” Jacques says with a soft laugh. “May I enter?”

You lay back and the girls position themselves around your head. “Yes, come in.”

He pushes the door open, expecting to see you sitting by the window reading, or perhaps writing a letter at the desk. He does not, however, expect to see the scene he ends up coming across.

There you are, his stunningly beautiful wife, laying back on the bed completely nude, with two other women laid by your head. They’re rubbing scented oils all over your bare arms and chest, massaging it into your skin.

“Welcome home, my love.”

His cock twitches as he allows his eyes to roam over your shimmering figure, watching as the girl’s hands smooth over your breasts. He hums, locking the bedroom door behind him before taking a step forward.

“This is quite the sight to return to.” He says with a small laugh. “What did I do to deserve such a welcome home?”

“While you were away, your lovely mother reminded me once again how I have yet to perform my duties as your wife. So, I thought perhaps we could make this time extra special.”

Jacques sighs, shaking his head. “Good lord. Well, I am less than pleased with my mother, but I am certainly not complaining about the outcome of her words.”

“I assumed as much. Now come and join us.” You laugh softly, waving him over.

His cape is quickly untied and shrugged off before he’s walking up to the foot of the bed. He looks down, eyes tracing over your oiled skin before he looks between the two girls with a small smirk.

“Hold her legs open for me, ladies.”

They each take hold of one of your ankles, then the backs of your knees, gently coaxing your legs apart for Jacques while he pulls his shirt and trousers off. He purrs, eyeing up your exposed cunt as he rubs some of the oil between his calloused palms before smoothing it down your inner thighs and stopping just short of where you need his hands most.

He massages the flowery-smelling oils into your skin before pulling your hips up to the very edge of the bed. The girls let him take your legs, instead leaning back against the plush pillows, resuming their ministrations on your arms and breasts.

You bite down on your lip when they run their fingers over your pebbled nipples, sighing softly. This little slip-up of yours doesn’t go unnoticed by a certain set of eyes.

His drooling tip positions itself at your entrance before his lust-darkened eyes meet those of the girl’s. 

“Pinch her.”

As soon as they take hold of your nipples and give them a nice squeeze, Jacques’s hips thrust forward and his cock sheathes itself swiftly inside you. Your eyes widen, a breathy moan slips through your lips as your walls are forced open around him.

Jacques grunts, jaw clenching while he begins thrusting in and out of you sharply, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs. 

“Mmm, you take me so beautifully, ma petite.”

The combined snapping of Jacques’ hips and the girl’s ministrations on your bosom reduces you to a mere puddle of whimpers, whines and soft moans. You’re almost certain that you’re set to meet your maker anytime now, eyelids fluttering as your eyes roll back into your skull.

“Do you think my beloved is enjoying herself, ladies?” He asks with a cocky smirk, looking up at the two other women.

They giggle together, nodding. “It appears so, Sir Jacques. She shall surely be with child after this.”

His smirk grows wider as an idea formulates in his mind, hips coming to an abrupt stop. He draws back, delivering harsh smacks to your inner thighs.

“Turn her over and hold her. I shall make sure she is brought to her ultimate pleasure and my seed takes root.”

The girls assist in turning you over onto your front and they each grab one of your arms once you’re settled, holding you firmly down on the bed as Jacques reenters you with a low grunt.

He leans forward, large hands splaying out just below your shoulder blades to steady himself while his hips begin their rhythm. With each forward thrust, a grunt or groan slips past his lips, growing louder as he picks up the pace.

“Ggrruhh...mmmuuhh...fffnnnhhhh.”

Your skin is dragged back and forth on the mattress along with the motions of his pelvis, mouth hanging open slightly as gasps and pitchy whines uncontrollably pass through.

“J-Jacques...!”

His hips only speed up twofold when the desperate, breathy plea of his name passes through his ears. An animalistic growl cuts through the air, sending a sharp chill up your spine.

The ladies look at each other and hum, giggling quietly as they thread their fingers through yours. “Mmm, mademoiselle...you are very fortunate to have a fierce lover with such a pleasurable cock. He must make you feel close to heaven, oui?”

You moan at their words, nodding as best you can.

“Oui, o-oui!”

Jacques grins like the devil himself at your praise, snarling as his fingers curl, digging further into your flesh. He’s oh so close to his high by now, but he cannot let himself go until you experience your own little death.

“Allow me to b-bring you there, then.” He rasps close to your ear, pounding into you as hard as he can manage. “Come to heaven w-with me, ma petite!”

Your peak comes only moments later and you cry out, shuddering as your insides spasm uncontrollably around him.  “Good Lord, oh--christ!”

A gasp suddenly slips through his lips and then, his hips come to a stop when they’re pressed completely forward inside you. 

“Mmmuuuuhhhhhh!” He howls, head tilting back and eyes squeezing shut. “Ggggnnnnnuuuuhhhhh, ggrrrrhhhhh!”

His hips give a few mock-thrusts with every rope of seed spilled, assuring that each bit is buried deeply inside you before he draws back with a breathy huff. He’s panting relatively heavily from his efforts, lazily massaging the globes of your ass as he calms himself down.

“You may go. I wish to be alone with my wife.”

The two women release your arms and crawl up the bed, both planting a kiss on either of Jacques’s cheeks. “Au revoir, Sir Jacques.”

“Mm, ladies, your services were most appreciated.” He nods and chuckles softly, playfully giving each of their asses a quick squeeze as they climb off the mattress. “See you next time.”

You roll over when the door shuts, eyebrows raised up at him.

“Next time, hm?”

He laughs heartily, laying down next to you. “Ah, I say that to them all, my love. It keeps them hopeful. Although...I would not be opposed to being welcomed home with something like that again.”

“Mmhmm, I am sure you would enjoy that. I will keep it in mind.” You turn your head to look over at him with a small smile. “I have a good feeling about this try. Perhaps we have finally done it.”

Jacques smiles, hand coming to rest gently atop your abdomen.

“I believe so as well, ma petite...but I think we should try at least once more, just to be absolutely sure it has taken.”

Rolling your eyes playfully, you laugh and give him a shove. “You are truly insatiable.”

“One can never be too careful...” He hums, kissing your neck and snaking his arms around your abdomen. “I love you.”

You smile, leaning further into his touch.

“I love you too, Jacques.”

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[nuhogom]

That Dang Blue Shirt

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warning: Cursing, Orgasm Denial

Member: Shownu

Prompt: Seeing Shownu in that shirt for their cover of My House by 2PM got me 🥴

Author’s Note: I originally wrote this for only my eyes to see, but after some contemplation I decided to use it! I hope you guys enjoy this fic ❤️

You sat to the side of the filming, enjoying watching you boyfriend in his element. Today was a calm schedule and so he decided to invite you. What you weren’t expecting was his outfit. He looked absolutely sinful as you pressed your thighs together. The loose, blue button up complimented his skin an unreasonable amount. The black slacks he had on were loose also, but you could see his well defined thighs through them. You watched the muscles in his arms flex as he rolled his sleeves up, exposing his tanned and muscular forearms. You eye him as he grabbed a worker’s wrist, pulling her along with the cameras to get that “boyfriend vibe”. You were maybe just a little jealous at his skin touching hers...just a little bit. You smiled at him as he looked over at you, his eyes crinkling with a smile in reply.

That man absolutely took your breath away in so many ways. The heat from today wasn’t helping your current situation either. You let Kihyun know you were headed to the bathroom, in need of some cooling off in two different ways. You reached the bathroom in desperate need, turning the water onto the coldest setting and splashing your face. You groaned as you looked at yourself in the mirror, not wanting to return to the sidelines. You sucked in a big breath, letting it go seconds later. You dried your hands, unlocking the door and opening it. You were greeted with your boyfriend casually leaning against the wall, his legs crossed as he played with his shirt. The sound of the bathroom door opening made him look up.

“Are you okay?” He asked, taking one stride towards you and being centimetres apart. You nodded, smiling up at him.

“Of course! I just needed a break from being outside. Too hot,” you replied. He nodded, looking down at you intimately. His hands wrapped around your hips, pulling your body flush against him.

“Babe! You’re at work!” You squeaked.

“Mhm. I know. I just wanted to give you a kiss. That okay?” He asked, hands squeezing your sides. You nodded and that was all he needed. His lips were quick on yours, massaging them and pushing his tongue into your mouth. You gasped at his forceful action, his tongue taking that moment to push deeper.

“Shownu?!” You heard Jooheon yell, looking for Hyunwoo. Your boyfriend pulled away, leaving you gasping for air.

“What the hell?” You whispered, trying to catch your breath.

“That sundress looks so pretty on you. I couldn’t wait another minute not touching you,” he mumbled, pressing tiny kisses to your jaw. You laughed breathlessly, hands sliding from his neck to his chest.

“Shownu? They need you!” Jooheon called again, his voice was closer. Hyunwoo completely ignored him.

“Okay, well. While we’re confessing here. That shirt looks very good on you,” you spoke. You slid your hands up to his shoulders and down to his biceps, squeezing them. He smiled against your jaw, pressing a wet kiss to it at your words.

“After this schedule I’m free today,” he said, his hands leaving your waist and rubbing at your arms soothingly.

“Mm. Then wanna go to mine tonight?” You asked.

“Bro! There you are! Stop making out! They need you for our kitchen scene!” Jooheon said, looking between you two. Hyunwoo let go of you, putting some distance between you two.

Hyunwoo bent down to give you a chaste kiss and mumbled an “I’ll see you at yours!”

You smiled back and nodded. “I’ll head home to clean my apartment a bit and freshen up, okay?”

“Broo!!” Jooheon whined.

“Just stay in that dress!” Hyunwoo commanded.

Jooheon scrunched his eyebrows together and held up a hand in disgust. “I don’t want to know!”

Hyunwoo and you both laughed, allowing Jooheon to pull you two apart. You quickly gathered your things, telling the other boys you had to run. Hyunwoo’s manager walked you to your car, per your boyfriend’s request. You thanked him before shutting your door and driving off towards your apartment. You needed to tidy up your bedroom and living room and then shower.

————

Three hours, a shower and cleaning later, you heard your code being punched in. You anxiously sat on your couch, mindlessly watching some random show.

“I’m home, baby girl!” You heard him call out. You smiled to yourself as you sprawled out on the couch. He rounded the corner and caught your eyes. You smiled at him seductively as he quickly walked over to you. He sat down, your legs already on their way to straddling him.

“Where’s your pants?” You asked. The slacks he had before were gone and replaced with some of his own black jeans.

“They wouldn’t let me take them! I begged to keep the shirt and they finally caved!” He giggled. You nodded and leaned back just a little to admire him in the shirt. You grabbed his hand, kissing his knuckles. He sighed at the contact, throwing his head to the back of the couch. Your lips kissed up his hand, his wrist and to his forearm. You squeezed at the thick muscle, his veins becoming even more prominent.

“Baby girl,” he said firmly. You smiled at him, quickly kissing your way back to his fingers. You took two of his fingers into your mouth, slowly wrapping your tongue around them and coating them with your saliva. His free hand pushed your dress up and away, giving your ass a harsh slap. You jerked, grunting at the sensation.

“You like that, huh?” He taunted. You nodded as you made eye contact, popping his fingers out of your mouth. He pulled your arms through the sundress’s straps, lips pressing feathery kisses to your skin. You moaned at the gentleness and began rocking your hips back and forth. He grunted at the friction, lips stopping and eyes meeting yours. “What do you want?”

You closed your eyes in contemplation. “Slow, but also rough?”

“You got it, baby girl!” He lifted his hips, unbuckling his pants and allowing you to slide them down past his knees. You grabbed his dick, pumping it quickly and collecting precome from the tip.

“You’re so wet,” he commented as his hand fell under your dress and began massaging your sensitive heat. After your shower you didn’t put any undergarments on, wanting him to have quick access. You were now grateful for that thinking ahead. You moaned and clenched your thighs, his thumb halting movements. You stood up on your knees, aligning yourself. He fisted at your dress, bunching it up to the side so he could watch himself disappear inside of you. You both moaned at the feeling, his dick easily sliding deep into you. You huffed and tugged your dress off your chest, allowing your breasts to be free. Hyunwoo licked his lips, attaching them to your nipples. You arched into him at the sensation, grunting at the burn his dick gave you because of the movement. He looked up at you as he licked a bold strip between the valley of your breasts, causing you to jerk. The cold air hit the wetness, causing goosebumps.

You swallowed thickly as Hyunwoo grabbed a hold of your hips, pulling his hips back as he slid out, pushing back in all the way. You melted at the action, his arms holding you up as he pushed into the hilt. You opened your mouth in silent pleasure, his dick hitting just the right place.

“Are you okay?” He grunted out. You were dizzy with pleasure as he did that action again, only pushing back in at a harsher speed. You choked on air, grabbing at your breasts. He hummed in satisfaction, pushing your dress up higher. He watched as he continued to disappear inside of you, your quiet apartment only filled with sounds of his skin slapping yours. He trailed his hand up your back, threading his fingers through your hair.

“Look at me!” He forced your head down, making you look at your slickness and him pushing in and out of you. You whined at the sight, clenching around him as he gave a particularly rough thrust. You looked away and leaned back on his thighs, afraid you’d come right then. Your hands gripped at his muscle for leverage as you pushed yourself down onto him. His free hand slid down your sides, his thumb pressing against your core. He rubbed slowly, your hips jerking at the new sensation.

“I’m so close,” you warned. He only kissed your chest in reply, pushing you closer against him. Your nipples barely touched his chest, causing a new feeling to pulse through you at the barely there contact. Your breasts bounced at your movements, causing a whine to escape your throat.

“Don’t come yet, baby girl. I’m almost there,” he moaned. You nodded, gripping onto his thighs for dear life. His thrusts slowed and deepened, causing you to squirm for more friction. “Shit, where do you want me to come?” You let go of his thighs, fully connecting your chests and taking control. You bounced quickly, your knees aching. You ignored it, wanting to get your boyfriend off as quickly as possible.

You didn’t answer, locking eyes with him. You couldn’t even think right now. You felt him twitch inside of you, throwing your hips down and feeling his dick go painfully deeper. You cried out at the feeling, nails scratching at his back. He looked at you with concern as he saw tears form in the corner of your eyes, hands going to wipe them away. You shook your head, letting him know you were okay. He didn’t have time to think about the possible repercussions of coming inside of you until it was too late. You moaned loudly at the feeling, his come seeping out around himself. He grunted at the sight, his thumb making contact with you once again.

“Please, let me come,” you whimpered.

“Not quite, baby!” He smirked. He flipped so he was on top, his hand gripping a thigh tightly as he held your legs apart. He pulled out, rubbing his come coated dick against you. You moaned at the action, wishing for him to keep pushing into you. He took the hint, pushing only the tip in. You moaned in frustration, trying to push your hips up in retaliation. His firm grip on your thigh prevented that as he barely pushed in.

“Babe, just make me come!” You begged. He smirked down at you, suddenly pushing all the way in, grabbing your hips and holding you against his. You screamed out, feeling his dick hit the best place as you came around him. You jerked and whined, feeling yourself throb around him in satisfaction. A wave of nausea hit you and so you covered your mouth with a hand in precaution. He continued to hold your hips against his as you came down from your high. After you settled down, he pulled out, causing you to whimper at the loss. He rubbed himself against your core, causing you to jerk from sensitivity. He hummed to himself, pulling away from you entirely.

“You do know you could get pregnant, right?” You smiled up at him, nodding.

“What the hell?”

“Hey! Don’t blame me! You didn’t pull out! I didn’t even answer you because I was too blissed out!”

He huffed and ran a hand over his face in contemplation. “Well, I guess we might as well prepare?”

You laughed and rolled your eyes at his dramaticness, pulling him down for a kiss. “Wanna go for round two?” You whispered.

“Only if it’s in bed because this is so uncomfortable,” he whined. You laughed and agreed, sitting up and fixing your dress for the walk to your bedroom.

Tags: This is @ahuu request ❤️ I hope you enjoy!!

@yoohaemki @niall-imagines2

[sweeethinny]

Abstinence (M)

Summary: ''I told you, I don't know how to live without you anymore, it's like you're my drug and I'm an addict.”

"What a bad comparison." They laughed, Harry hugging her tighter. Ginny rested her head close to his collarbone, feeling entirely happy. She was so happy he was home.

"I know." Harry kissed her head. "But that's how I feel."

or

Harry and Ginny haven't had much time alone, until after being gone for three days, Harry comes back feeling abstinent from his favorite drug.

Notes: I wrote this for @blvnk-art's Smut Hinny Sundays, and hope you all like it I wasn't inspired by a specific art of hers, but by several I was also inspired by the song All The Time - Jeremih

AO3

-----

Ginny sighed as she got home, taking off her cloak and shoes, her feet tired after all those hours of practice, her arms sore too. Gwenog seemed to want to kill her now that she was back.

It was great to be back, Ginny was glad she had made that decision six months ago, but her body still wasn't used to all that burden of being a mother and playing Quidditch, and strength training was always the worst, leaving her more tired than usual and with even more pain in her arms.

At least, Ginny thought, Harry was staying at home more, which helped her not to spend all the hours she was away worrying about James and whether he was okay. The boy was staying part-time in day care - in the afternoon - and so far they hadn't had a problem with anything, James even seemed happier now that he was with other kids.

"Babe?" Ginny called, walking past their house which was silent, which was weird since James didn't seem to be a big fan of silence. But Harry didn't show up anywhere, all the lights in there were off, which Ginny assumed was because he'd already put James to sleep and was upstairs.

She was happy, thinking that maybe she could get a massage that night—or even something more.

Walking slowly up the stairs, afraid to make a noise, she arrived in front of James' room, smiling when she saw that Harry was sleeping sitting in the rocking chair, the little one lying on his arm, sleeping clutching his shirt. It was such a cute scene that Ginny thought her heart might melt, still unaccustomed, even after almost two years, to how Harry was such a lovely father.

He had become another man now that they had James, Harry was much more careful at work, and much more affectionate. Not that he hadn't gone before, but it looked like James had freed him from the fear of showing. Harry cried more easily, wasn't afraid to play and do childish things with Teddy and James, and let them teach him everything he didn't know. Like last week James had made Harry realize he needed to eat more slowly— "Swow, Daddy," James had said, and now he seemed a lot less anxious and rushed into eating.

Even more careful now not to wake her son, Ginny approached the chair, kissing Harry's forehead and shaking him slowly, just so he woke up and put James in his crib so they could go to bed together.

"Hi," Harry whispered, a faint smile on his lips. His face was a little scrunched up from the pillows, his cheeks red with heat, probably because he had lit the fireplace in the living room.

"Hi." Ginny gave him a quick peck. “Shall we go to bed?” She ran a hand over his face, pushing his hair out of his eyes and straightening his crooked glasses. He nodded, taking a deep breath and stretching his legs, looking at James who didn't move in his arms.

"He didn't want to leave me today." Harry stood up, looking worried as he laid his son on his own bed, but as always after he fell asleep, James made no sign that he was going to wake up. Little hands ran to grab the yellow blanket Hermione had given him, and Ginny covered him with the other blanket, not wanting him to be cold at night. She kissed his forehead and lifted the crib enclosure, thinking that soon that wouldn't be enough to stop James from getting out of bed.

'You were gone for three days, he missed you' Ginny reminded him, hugging Harry and resting her head on his chest, letting him drag her towards their bedroom, feeling finally at home now that he was there.

Harry had gone away to a conference in Spain, and it had been a long three lonely days where she had the bed all to herself - sometimes James would cry to stay with her through the night, seeming to realize that things weren't the same without his daddy there.

"I missed you guys too." Harry kissed her head. 'I need to take a shower.'

"Me too, Gwenog today seemed to want to kill us in practice, I even thought maybe she was punishing us for something... You know, she's crazy sometimes."

'I know. Robards was about to lose his hair at the conference, telling everyone he would go crazy if he heard one more lecture.” Harry went into their bathroom, turning on the shower and starting to undress. Ginny had missed that routine and intimacy.

She took off her clothes too, tossing them in the laundry hamper, their cold room making her skin crawl. "We have a party to go to on Saturday."

"A party?" Harry grimaced, stepping under the shower.

‘Yes, I promised we would. Sorry, there was no other way out.' She followed, re-embracing Harry and resting her head on his now bare chest, the water splashing between them, relaxing her muscles. "It's a fundraiser for an orphaned children's charity… It'll be quick, we'll stay for an hour or two, then we'll go back." She promised, giving him what she hoped was her best look. Harry sighed and nodded, tightening his arms around her, pulling their bodies closer together.

‘Okay, we will. But two hours at most.” Ginny nodded, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him.

"I missed you so much," she whispered, lifting her hands to cup his face, pulling him into a deeper kiss, never wanting to let go. Harry squeezed her hips, letting her feel his cock that was beginning to show signs of life.

The kiss started to get hotter faster than she expected, soon Harry had picked her up and pushed her against the cold wall, squeezing her waist tighter and thrusting his tongue deeper into her mouth, as if suddenly a key had turned inside him and Harry had been as hungry as she was.

Ginny pulled at his hair, moaning into his mouth and scratching at his scalp trying to make him as crazy as he was leaving her, his teeth playing with her lip and his hands going down to her ass and squeezing.

“Fuck, I missed this.” Harry moaned as she tightened her legs around him, her wet intimacy touching his already hard cock.

They hadn't had a lot of time to get laid now that James was older, the boy seemed to have the right timing to want his parents whenever they were too close to each other, either to pee or because he was bored and hunger. Ginny had already accepted that by the weekend they would be too tired to do anything but sleep, and that getting laid would have to be for weekdays, during the morning shower, a quickie before James woke up.

"Me too." Ginny thought she might lose her mind at any moment, almost screaming when his trained fingers touched her swollen clit, throwing her head back and biting her lip to keep the noises back.

"The last few days I felt like a fucking teenager thinking about you." Harry whispered in her ear, his thick voice making her moan. “Thinking of you on top of me, below, on the side, on all fours…” He continued, biting the sensitive skin of her neck. "As much as I love getting laid in the shower, I miss a bed."

"Yes, shit, Harry yes." Ginny would agree to flee this planet right now if he continued to touch her like that.

She didn't pay much attention to the next few minutes between him turning off the shower, applying a basic dry spell on their bodies, and walking into their bedroom, waking up only when Harry threw her onto the bed, looking like a hungry animal climbing on top of her, his mouth traveling all over her body, sucking and biting the inside of her thighs until it reached the top and licked her clit. All the tension from practice, the daily worries, everything, was gone when his mouth touched her there and did all those wonders to her.

Ginny still remembered the first time Harry had done that to her, that hot, muggy summer after the war, one sunny afternoon when Harry had taken her to her room, all nervous and anxious, saying he wanted to try something new. It was good, confusing, but good. But now, Merlin, now it was perfect. There were no toys that came close to what he did, all that erotic dance with his tongue, taking her to the peak and making her enjoy the delicious fall more and more.

Her throat went dry, her scream scratching as Harry sucked on her clit, his arms holding Ginny firmly in place, preventing her from moving any further.

She saw stars, can't wait any longer, thighs trembling as she began to come, trying not to scream too loudly so that nothing could stand in the way of them both.

"I feel like a new man," Harry said, wiping his beard and moving up to be level with her face, a naughty grin plastered across his face. "Making you come is the best thing in the world." He kissed her, but Ginny was still too much in the clouds to reciprocate in a very excited way, her body looking like jelly on the bed.

"I wish I could suck you back babe, but I miss you inside of me." Ginny muttered, biting his lower lip and moving down to kiss his jaw and neck.

'I don't care too much about it, I want to be inside you too soon' Harry moaned as she spun them around, taking advantage of the fact that he was too focused on her mouth on his neck, and Ginny snuggled into his lap, jerking him a little to buy time for herr body to be ready again. “Fuck, you're going to kill me.” His green eyes darkened, rolling in their sockets.

"Don't die before you fuck me." Ginny chuckled as he moaned once more, her hand tightening a little more at the base of his dick as Harry liked, already sensing she was almost ready.

"No, not in a million years." He arched his back, biting his lip and seeming to try hard not to get carried away before they even started. "I feel like an abstinence junkie."

"I'm glad my pussy has that effect on you." She blinked at him who admired her as if Ginny were a Goddess. She felt so desired when he looked at her like that.

She couldn't take it anymore, she lifted her hips, adjusting to take him inside her, moaning in satisfaction at the feel of Harry opening her, needing to lean against his chest so she wouldn't fall once she was fully seated. That was one of her favorite positions, he touched her in that delicious spot that made Ginny lose consciousness and be taken by fire.

"Fuck." Harry squeezed her hips to keep her from moving, closing his eyes as if in pain, his back arching on the bed. 'Fuck, you feel so good.' Ginny tensed her muscles as she'd learned in that magazine she read in her gynecologist's office, and Harry seemed to lose whatever sanity was left in him, moaning loudly and still clenching his hands, almost to the point of hurting her.

"Like it?" she asked, a satisfied smirk on her face, even though it had taken her out of her orbit as well. Harry nodded, finally letting her move.

"So good," he muttered, finally opening his eyes and staring at her, the green iris making her blush. His hands moved from her hips to her breasts, pinching and massaging her sensitive nipples, and Ginny nearly lost her rhythm and fell on top of Harry with the teasing.

Neither of them could say much more, Ginny quickened her movement, interspersed with the contractions that made her and Harry moan and lose their minds more and more, each time feeling closer to coming again. His trained hands roamed her body, to her nipples, and then to her sensitive clit, playing just enough to make her feel pleasure and not pain.

Ginny thought she would go crazy if she didn't come soon.

Harry looked the same, because suddenly he couldn't wait any longer, squeezing her hips and lifting his, rushing his thrusts and fucking her as if it made him come alive. She didn't care too much, because she felt the same way.

It wasn't long before they both came, Ginny bent down and captured Harry's lips before he made too much noise and woke James, kissing him to keep himself sane, her nails firmly on his shoulders as that electric shock took over her body, the ripples making her lose control.

"I love you," she whispered, feeling Harry pull out of her and his cum trickle out. They would deal with that mess in a little while, Ginny needed to breathe first.

"Me too." Harry looked the same mess as her, body sweaty and arms trembling, he smiled at her. ‘I'm glad to be home again, not having you to sleep at night is unbearable.’

"Just to sleep?" Ginny joked, looking at him like he was still that 16 year old boy she was madly in love with, feeling a lot of new things and not being able to go to sleep without smiling.

'For everything. I told you, I don't know how to live without you anymore, it's like you're my drug and I'm an addict.”

"What a bad comparison." They laughed, Harry hugging her tighter. Ginny rested her head close to his collarbone, feeling entirely happy. She was so happy he was home.

"I know." Harry kissed her head. "But that's how I feel."

[shyficwriter]

Shots

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Yondu x Reader, guest starring Peter

Summary: Based on this prompt from anon: "Reader gets drunk for the first time - like REALLY drunk - and Yondu does nooot like it"

Author's note: Title sucks but I couldn't think of anything better. I was actually drunk when I wrote most of this (it's when inspiration finally struck to fulfill the prompt lol) but I obviously finished and edited it sober. That being said, I feel an obligation to say that the things Reader does in this story aren't necessarily written from experience, I was just trying to think what the most embarrassing things you could do while drunk would be lol. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,470

One thing was certain, and it was that Yondu was going to shove his arrow up his ravagers' collective asses.

Yondu had long suspected you wouldn't be able to handle your liquor ever since you became old enough to drink. He noticed how you always got tipsy after just one beer, however luckily, you always stopped after around two, so it had never really been a problem.

Until tonight, that is. Because everyone was celebrating a big score gone well and Peter thought it'd be fun for you to take shots with him and the guys. Now Yondu had to deal with you being drunk off your ass.

He had pulled Peter aside and growled at him to knock it off earlier that night after he noticed you taking the first shot, saying, "The girl can't handle her liquor, boy! Don't be giving her any more, ya hear me?"

This was met with Peter calling Yondu overprotective, but he ultimately conceded and swore that he wouldn't give you anymore shots.

But Yondu hadn't said anything about Oblo, Tullk, or Horuz, had he?

The others thought it was real funny how giggly and expressive you'd get when drunk, so it didn't take much convincing from Peter for them sneak you shots when Yondu wasn't looking.

By the time Yondu noticed what had happened he was pissed.

He marched over to where you sat next to the guys. You were laughing your ass off at a dumb joke Tullk made, and you were surprised when you saw him and the other three jump up and high tail it out of the way without explanation.

Then Yondu sat in front of you.

"Heyyy!" you giggled, playfully shoving the captain in the shoulder. "Wassup?"

Yondu's eyes narrowed. "How much did you have?"

"What?"

"How much to drink, girl. I know they were giving ya shots, how many?"

You giggled and pretended to look yourself over. "I dunno what ya mean, I haven't been shot." You then preceded to laugh your ass off at what you thought was a hilarious joke.

"PETER!" Yondu snarled, looking around but unable to find the Terran. Kraglin happened to be walking by just then so he settled for pulling him in to see if he could answer the question. "Krags, did'ya happen to see how many she had?"

Kraglin was startled at having been suddenly jerked towards the two of you, but he answered as honestly as he could. "I'm not exactly sure, Cap, but I think I did notice her have at least four? Maybe five? Why?"

Yondu released the first mate's sleeve and sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Dammit. I'm gonna kill Quill." he said, before standing and pulling you up from your seat. "Come on. Yer going to bed." he said gruffly.

"Aw! But I don't want to!" you whined as he dragged you from the bar, unable to even really walk straight.

"Tough." Yondu said. "I don't like ya getting drunk like this. It ain't good fer ya. You'll only get into trouble."

"But ya let the other guys!" you pouted as the doors swung shut behind you and Yondu.

"They can handle it. Ya can't." he said flatly. Almost as if on cue you stumbled and almost brought the two of you down. This caused you to giggle madly as Yondu lost his grip on you.

"Catch me if you can!" you squeal in delight as you take off down the corridor.

Yondu swore under his breath as he ran after you. He might've called his arrow to stop you in your tracks, but he was worried that your drunk ass would accidentally run into the flarkin thing if he stopped it in front of your face to halt you.

Luckily for him you weren't exactly fast in your drunken state and he caught you quickly, grabbing you about the waist and pulling you back.

You squeaked at the contact, batting him away. "That tickles! Don't!" you giggle, squirming away.

Yondu rolled his eyes and sighed, moving his hands to instead rest on your shoulders as he steadied you.

The next couple minutes were relatively quiet, you were just softly giggling and babbling about nonsense while Yondu kept guiding you down the corridor to your quarters.

You were about halfway there when you were hit with a sudden and bad urge to pee. "Wait a sec." you drunkenly slur to your guide and before Yondu could even react you had already pulled down your pants and had squatted to take a piss in the damn hallway.

Once Yondu realized what was happening he jerked back and looked away, both not wanting anything to splash back on him, and also obviously not interested in looking, grateful that your jacket had blocked anything he might have seen before he reacted and looked away. He pinched the bridge of his nose as his face flushed with embarrassment and irritation at the situation, but there wasn't exactly a whole lot he could do about it in the moment, it had just happened so quick. He waited until he heard you stand up before looking back.

"I can't believe ya just pissed on my floor." he grumbled, side-stepping the mess and calling up Kraglin to send someone down to clean the ... "spill..." in the corridor leading towards the crew quarters.

He finally got you to your quarters and ushered you inside so you could sleep it off. He started to nudge you towards your bed when you suddenly announced you were going to be sick.

Yondu's eyes went wide, and not wanting a similar incident like what had happened in the hallway he quickly ripped a nearby trashcan from the floor and shoved it towards you.

After you had finished vomiting you placed the trashcan back on the floor and stumbled back into a seated position on the bed. "I don't feel well..."

"Gee, I wonder why." Yondu said bitterly, arms crossed over his chest. "Ya need to go to bed."

Just then your eyes flew open and you dumped yourself onto the floor, pulling the trashcan back towards you as you began to vomit again.

Yondu sighed. If anyone were to ask him about what he did next he'd deny it. He knelt down next to you and gently pulled your hair back so that you wouldn't get sick into it, and there he stayed for a good bit while you emptied the contents of your stomach.

When you had finally finished you sat up and leaned your back against your bed. Then, almost as if noticing Yondu for the first time you leaned into him and hugged him tightly.

He was almost warmed by the gesture, but then to his chagrin, you started bawling.

He made a grimace but returned the hug tentatively, occasionally giving gentle pats to your back with a "There, there." not really knowing what else to do.

Well, except for one thing. He glanced up to see the door was still opened, and without disturbing you too much from your places on the floor, he kicked it closed. No way in hell was one of his crew going to walk in on this scene and see him being all soft and shit. No way.

Eventually you did start to quiet down and then Yondu attempted to gently prod you into standing up so you could get into bed. Unfortunately for him, you only mumbled nonsense and nuzzled in closer like he was a damn teddy bear or something. So, he gently pried your arms away from him so he could stand up before helping you to your feet.

He had gotten you halfway into bed when it happened. You got sick again. Only this time you didn't use the trashcan. You got sick on him.

Yondu's stomach churned but he kept it together, Taking a not-so-deep breath (because of the smell) to keep himself from angrily setting off. There'd be plenty of time to yell at you in the morning, he reasoned.

He quickly put you the rest of the way in bed and luckily you seemed to fall asleep the moment your head hit the pillow. However, not before mumbling out a, "Night, dad." Yondu raised an eyebrow in surprise, but didn't give himself time to dwell on it. He was eager to leave and get cleaned up.

He was about a quarter of the way to his quarters when he came across a laughing group a ravagers cutting up and being silly in the corridors. It was Peter, Oblo, and Kraglin, and they all stopped laughing when they noticed both the murderous look on their captain's face and the mess of sick on his clothes as he approached.

Yondu didn't stop to talk. Merely glared at them as he made his way past. "Not. A. Word." he growled at their surprised faces.

They obeyed, but it didn't stop their giggles once they thought he was out of earshot and they put two and two together. You were really gonna get it in the morning, they thought.

***

The next morning Yondu gave extra cleaning duties to Peter and the other ravagers who got you plastered the night before. He didn't say it was punishment for what happened, after all it wasn't like there was a rule against it, but they still knew he was mad. He had woken them up at 5am to tell them to get started while everyone else slept in, after all.

He called you into his quarters shortly after and you made your way over hungover and groggy, the previous night mostly a blur.

You lightly rapped on his door to announce your presence and flinched when you were met with a loud "Come in! It's open!"

You opened the door and groaned as you entered the room that Yondu had made uncharacteristically bright by seemingly turning on every freaking light he had. Through squinted eyes you made out the form of your captain and you cringed again when he called out in a booming voice, "Have fun last night?" making your temples throb.

Basically, Yondu was being a dick.

You grunted in response and he spoke up again. "So, ya remember anything from last night?" he asked, randomly speaking certain words louder than they needed to be, just to make you further regret your hangover.

You rubbed a hand over your eyes and made another grunt while shrugging your shoulders.

"What was that? Couldn't hear ya." he said, a slight smirk playing over his lips.

You groaned and spoke up, "I dunno. Had some drinks with Peter and the guys, went to bed?" You honestly didn't know why he had to call you in so damn early. Whatever mischief you got up to with the guys couldn't have been that bad that this couldn't wait until noon.

"Oh hoho, no!" Yondu laughed almost bitterly, clapping his hands together with a loud pop that made you flinch in pain from the loud noise. "Ya did a lot more than that, missy."

You just stared up at him weakly, half not giving a shit & wishing to go back to bed and half worried you had done something either dangerous or embarrassing.

"I s'pose ya don't remember getting sick all over me?" he asked.

Your eyes flew wide, your former grogginess forgotten. Oh no. Please let him be joking. "I'm- so sorry." you stammered, both in embarrassment and in concern for how he was going to deal with you for that. Surely you wouldn't get off scot-free for vomiting on your captain. "I- sorry- I-" you didn't really know what to say. You had apparently thrown up all over your captain the night before. What could you say?

"Oh that ain't all." Yondu said in a tone that was obvious it was about to get worse.

Your stomach fell. What could possibly be worse than having drunkenly vomited on your captain? You could feel your cheeks turning pink as you cringed and asked, "Do I wanna know?"

"Prob'ly not, but I'm gonna tell ya anyway." Yondu said, his hands on his hips. "Ya remember when ya pissed in the hallway?"

Your face turned scarlet. "What?! Please tell me you're joking."

"Nope. Ya ripped yer drawers down and popped a squat right in the corridor."

You covered your burning face with your hands. That. That was what could be worse than throwing up on your captain- literally pissing on his floor in front of him. This was so humiliating, and it only got worse once you realized you probably did it in front of the rest of the crew too. You lowered your hands and asked, "Oh god. How many people saw??"

Yondu wanted to scare you a bit and tell you that you did it in front of the whole crew, but he saw tears start to form in your eyes and just couldn't bring himself to do it. "Lucky fer you, no one but me. Ya did it when I was dragging yer ass to your quarters to sleep it off. Ya didn't get sick on me til after that."

Oddly enough, that didn't make you feel much better. You tried to wipe the tears from your eyes. "God, I'm never drinking again."

Yondu scoffed with a laugh. "Yeah, I've heard that one before. Ain't no one who's ever said that follows through though," he chuckled. He expected you to laugh too, but he made a grimace when he saw how miserable you looked. "Aw, come here." he said, pulling you into a hug. "Look, everyone's done embarrassin' shit when they're drunk. It's just part of life. It ain't the end of the world."

You sniffed. "Even you?"

Yondu rolled his eyes and begrudgingly answered. "Ya brat. Even me." He could tell you wanted to ask, but he moved the conversation along, moving to hold you out at arm's length. "Better?"

You sheepishly nod and say, "I guess..."

"Good. Ya can be off then."

You looked at him in confusion. "You mean I'm not in trouble?"

Yondu laughed. "Well, from the look on your face, I thought the humiliation was punishment enough, but since ya asked I guess I can assign ya extra kitchen duties this week. Ya can fill in tonight through Thursday for Gef."

You grimaced but accepted your fate. "Yes, sir," you say before turning to leave his quarters.

Yondu chuckled and shook his head after you closed the door behind you, flipping off some of the unnecessary lights. There may be some hiccups now and then, but his not-so-little girl wasn't turning out too bad.

And even though he knew you'd deny it sober, he was proud you called him dad.

But he'd be damned if he let you drink with Peter again.

[softservedspice]

Couldn't sleep until I got this haunting idea out of my head. I wrote quickly and tiredly so apologies for typos ahead of time

Title: Crash or Burn

Dakota: Bratty female / Morgan: Playful dominant male

Contains: Nippleplay, verbal teasing, little bit of tickling

Morgan sat on the couch, flipping through his magazine while Dakota cleaned up around the house. She wasn't doing much, just sorting through some papers and going through a few old boxes. "Hey, honey. Do you still want these old candles? Your mom got them for us last Christmas and we never did use them." Dakota said. She turned the candle around, humming softly as she buried her nose in the sweet peppermint cinnamon.

"We can put them out this year. Wherever you like." Morgan answered. His eyes followed her on the journey to the hearth. Putting the candles above where a fire normally burned to fight off cold days.

"What about here? No, that's too much fire in one place." Dakota went about muttering as she paced around the house. Left and right. Sometimes going back places she already tried. Yet no matter how interesting the magazine was, Morgan's eyes always found themselves staring at his stunning wife. Even with her form covered in an oversized sweater and painter jeans, she was every bit as desirable as when only lacy lingerie adorned her body.

Morgan closed his magazine and stood up, walking ever so briskly up behind his wife. Wrapping his arms around to her front, covering her cheeks in soft kisses. "I think the candles look nice wherever you put them. Mom won't shut up about it when she visits." He muttered softly. His face nuzzled and buried into her neck, taking in her naturally pleasant scent. "Have I told you how cute you are today?"

"Only for the 23rd time." Dakota jested.

She felt his smile against her skin. 

"Now I just have to put the box up in the closet shelf. It's a bit heavy but I'll be fine."

"You certainly are strong. Just as strong as you are gorgeous." Morgan tickled up Dakota's sides, eliciting a loud giggle before she pulled away to do her work. Morgan sat back down, waiting for her to come back. God, when she was in front of him he couldn't keep his hands off of her. He wanted to rub his hands along her soft body all day. Massage her until she felt like the queen that she was. Feed her whatever delicious foods she wanted. Tickle her and hear that beautiful laugh. Kiss and tease her sensitive body until she became his little pile of satisfied jello.

Only...she didn't come back. "Dakota?" He called.

"I'm fine!" She answered. Though the tone in her voice suggested a struggle. Morgan went immediately to check out the scene. 

All he saw was the woman of his fantasies struggling to get a box down. She was just barely too short to push it back up, standing there with her arms over her head. The poor limbs were trembling under the weight of the box. And judging by the glass clinking, said box was filled to the brim with fragiles. If she tried to take it down and it fell from her hands, or if she pushed it back up too roughly, the dishes within would break way too easily.

"You're...stuck. Aren't you?" Morgan asked.

"No, no, no! I'm perfectly fine! Oop!" Dakota almost dropped the box, barely managing to keep it somewhat on the shelf so her hands didn't support the full weight.

A part of Morgan wanted to help, but then again Dakota hadn't asked for it. She had always been stubbornly independent, perhaps even to a dangerous level. But Morgan had his ways of breaking down independent little brats.

He stood next to her, gently resting his hands on her sides. They slowly trailed forward and tugged at the low collar of her sweater. "What are you doing?" She asked. A blend of fear and excitement in her voice.

"You're not wearing a bra…"

"Of course not! We're alone in the house together!"

"And you got yourself conveniently stuck. It's almost like you're begging for me to tease you…" Morgan kissed her on the cheek while gently rubbing his hand over her clothed breasts. Rubbing in circles once he felt where her nipples were getting hard.

"Morgan, this isn't the time for that!"

"Oh, but it's the perfect time. You didn't ask for my help, so it's either this or the magazine. And you're so much better than a catalog." Morgan chuckled softly, a sound that always melted Dakota like a warm chocolate.

His hands tugged the shirt down until one of her breasts flipped over. Hanging out freely in the open for eyes to see. "Morgan! That's embarrassing! Put my shirt back up!" Dakota let her hand come down for a second, only to realize that one arm wasn't enough to support the box of fragiles. It went back up. Her face turned red.

"How is it embarrassing, love? I see you naked every night." Morgan chimed.

"T-That's different!" Dakota stuttered. How adorable. And pitiful, if one might add.

"I don't think it is," Morgan said softly. His face lowered so that his breath hit against her soft chest. "I know how sensitive your nipples are. And look at this! It's in a very nice vulnerable position for me to take advantage of it." His finger traced ever so lightly in the circle of her areola. Torturously close to the reddening bud, but still not quite touching it. The anticipation alone had her biting her lip. "Awww, are you excited? Imagine when I stop playing around." Morgan flicked his finger over it once, making her whole body shiver harshly before he went back to the teasing circles.

"I swear if you make me drop all these dishes--!"

"Not my fault you won't ask for help."

"Screw yourself."

"Screwing you is much more fun, though." Morgan smirked in his sadistic manner. Leaning in closer and gathering saliva on his tongue. Dakota began shivering harder at the sight, and this time it wasn't because of the heavy box.

"Don't you dare…"

"I dare." Morgan flicked his wet tongue over her exposed nipple. Back and forth, pressing and circling. Mixing up firm licks with ticklish ones. Every bit of it pouring heat between Dakota's legs.

"Stop! Oh, dang it~!" Dakota whined louder, doing everything she could to keep those dishes from falling. Every second building up the pleasure and need inside her. 

"Do you want me to help you with that box?" Morgan asked slyly.

"No!" Dakota moaned, "I need you to leave me alone so I can do it myself!"

"Too bad. Your body is too cute to leave alone." Morgan began tugging her other breast out too. His mouth went back to it's pleasure giving on one side while his knowing fingers danced on the other side. Giving her as much pleasure as he possibly could with those light teasing touches that he knew she loved. The ones that barely made contact with her skin, yet drove her more crazy than anything else.

"Dakota! Oh my God...I'm being serious...stop it...please…" her voice grew more desperate. Her body jerked side to side in futile defiance. No matter how she moved, it was a choice between breaking the dishes or having more tingles of pleasure infect her body.

Suddenly Morgan's free hand reached into her loose pants. A single finger crawled between her legs, tracing from almost her butt all the way forward to her clit. Rubbing over it with no mercy. Poor Dakota's legs nearly buckled under her as a loud moan forced its way out. "Ohhh! Oh God! Don't do that to me!" She begged.

"You're so wet, how can I possibly keep my hands off? If you let me help you with the box, I'll take you to the bed and let you finish." Morgan raised a brow, curiously awaiting her answer.

A long pause.

"Fine! But it's your fault I couldn't handle it on my own!"

"Of course it is, honey." Morgan kissed her cheek and backed up, taking one last good look at her. There was just something mesmerizing about her in this helpless position with her boobs hanging out helplessly. But the beauty wouldn't be over when he helped her with the box. She would be every bit as cute and wonderful while laying under him on their cozy mattress. And she wouldn't have to worry about breaking anything except her bratty little attitude.

[honeymoonjin]

pairing: jimin x yoongi || genre: smut - nsfw 18+ word count: 6.7k warnings: dom!jimin, sub!yoongi, exhibitionism, BDSM, sub!jk feature very briefly, masochism, pain play, impact play, spanking, orgasm control/denial, untouched orgasm, frotting (i hope that’s right, i had to google it), crying during sex but in a fun liberating way u feel me, praise, mean-mugging, pet names

summary: jimin is used to keeping his professional bdsm life and his domestic married life separate, but when his husband yoongi comes in after a hard day at work, he wants to blur those lines. 

A/N: i wrote this for the lovely and talented @joonsbean​ so thank her for inspiring me to actually write something, also this is unedited bc i just sat down for 6 hours to write this and i am not willing to stare at it a moment longer

---

After a particularly resonant flick of the whip, Jimin eyes the way Jungkook's calves tense, left foot tapping the floor in an uneven stutter. He's starting to really feel it now.

He absentmindedly reaches his hand out to smooth the reddened flesh of Jungkook's ass, gently cooing at him quiet enough that his rapt audience won't hear. While the eager submissive was the biggest masochist of the regulars, and he was likely miles away from safewording, as a friend Jimin knew the long-haired boy had three hours of lectures the next day. He'd probably relish the sore ass and take it like a champ, but Jimin was soft on him, so he knew it was time to wrap it up.

Tilting his chin towards the dark, almost purplish streak just above Jungkook's thigh, he raises his voice to address the onlookers. "As you can see, when there's only one fall, like with a whip or a switch, the impact feels a lot sharper and concentrated. The thinner it is, that effect is only amplified. For that reason, I really recommend against switches and whips as a first-timer or if you're testing it out." Jimin can't help but beam at the way every person in the crowd listens to his spiel with clear enthusiasm. He got off on this kind of spotlight in a different way to the usual exhibitionism. Sharing his passion never failed to cheer him up. "Even though floggers can look more intense, as we saw when we were starting out, the impact is more distributed, more of a thud than a sting. Now," he breaks off, giving Jungkook's tender ass a final playful swat, making the boy jump, knuckles white as they clench the back of the chair he's bent over, "let's give our little prince a big round of applause for being so helpful for us today."

Jungkook positively keens at the cheers and wolf whistles that erupt from the crowd of at least thirty, his back arching and face buried between his meaty upper arms to hide the blush. Jimin gently massages the heated skin one last time, whispering instructions to head off to the side where his usual dom, Namjoon, was no doubt waiting.

The two had been playing for almost a year now, but Namjoon was still hesitant to venture into the heavier sadism that Jungkook sometimes needed, and the three of them had found a happy medium where Jungkook helped Jimin out with demonstrations, and Jimin indulged Jungkook's occasional desire for more intense pain play. As a thank you, Namjoon even helped Jimin out with his taxes just the month before, and Jimin quite often allowed them to reserve their favourite play rooms out of courtesy. A mutually beneficial arrangement, and it certainly came in handy to have Namjoon deal with aftercare while Jimin still had his demonstration to wind up.

Swinging the chair that Jungkook was previously bent over, Jimin takes a seat facing the audience and quirks a brow. "Alrighty, before we wrap up and I set you back into the wild, any questions?"

This line always had very different responses. Once, on a basic self-bondage informational session, there were so many single kinksters interested that there ended up being almost an hour of questioning, followed by an impromptu tutorial of safe handcuff use. More commonly, Jimin fielded a few confirming questions about what he'd shown, or something related but not overly relevant to the main topic at hand. More often than not, though, he'd find a string of people awkwardly hovering around him after the crowd had dissipated, too nervous to ask their question in front of the others.

This time, however, a single hand is thrust into the air, coming from the rough back third of the gathering.

"Yes?" Jimin calls out, squinting past the few stage lights and into the darkened crowd. He can't quite make out the face, but as soon as the rumbly voice begins to speak, he doesn't need the visual to recognise it.

"I was just wondering," his husband calls out, "could I speak to you in private?"

Jimin is so startled to hear Yoongi that for a moment he freezes on stage, totally silent. Never once had his husband of four years step a single foot into the dungeon Jimin worked at. Not intolerant of the kink world, Yoongi was simply paranoid about being recognised - a renowned human rights lawyer showing up to a BDSM dungeon dressed in leathers was a tabloid field day waiting to happen - and was happy for Jimin to continue working there whenever he wished.

Now, though, that unspoken rule that had kept these two worlds of Jimin's separate had shattered with a single question, and he felt cold shock drip down his spine.

"Uh," he begins eloquently, blinking himself out of it and plastering a collected smile on again, "of course! I'll be right with you once the show ends."

Jimin closes the session in a daze, answering a few questions about physical aftercare and the best materials and brands for impact play equipment on autopilot. It feels like an eternity passing in a single second, and before he's even processed it, the audience have moved on, and his husband is placing a gentle kiss of greeting on his temple, the same way he would when he'd get home from work in the evenings.

Mere minutes after he'd been in his usual dominant persona, Jimin feels himself melting like candy floss in Yoongi's arms, wrapping around him in their usual casual intimacy. "How are you here?" Jimin asks softly, snaking his arms under Yoongi's slate grey suit jacket, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, even through the expensive cotton shirt. "You're still dressed for work, baby."

Yoongi tenses slightly, gazing around the room. A few people are still milling around in small groups, chatting, but this close to the stage, him and Jimin are out of earshot. Still, he speaks lowly, dipping into the Daegu drawl that only makes an appearance when he's too stressed to think clearly. "I took a sick day. Or, I suppose, sick afternoon," he corrects, brows pinched together. "Had to get out. Can we- Is there a place we can have some privacy, please?"

Wide-eyed, Jimin jumps up out of Yoongi's embrace. "Oh, definitely, sorry!" He tamps down his rising concern by hooking his arm around Yoongi's, locking their fingers tightly as he leads his husband out of the auditorium and down a hall.

Being a matinee opening, the dungeon isn't too packed. Jimin prefers working the day shifts, likes that everything feels a little more personal and open. Nights, especially themed ones, get so busy that the gear and rooms have to be booked sometimes weeks in advance. Jimin does his fair share of DMing (they need all the help they can get) but doesn't like to run any scenes himself in the relative chaos.

But at 2pm on a Tuesday, it's easy enough to slip into one of the private rooms, switching the sign to occupied. There's no lock on the door for safety purposes, but nobody will dare enter while it's taken.

Yoongi steps in, eying the room with surprise. It's a relatively open space, with the walls lined with bookcases on one end, and a large wooden desk with some filing cabinets on the other. The desk itself has a comfortable-looking desk chair, and the opposite side has a single leather armchair like something from a therapist's office.

Although there is a wide window, it's covered with blinds, and Jimin knows from experience that it opens directly onto a brick wall for privacy. Instead, the room is lit from above with ceiling lights that are adjustable by a dimmer. Jimin leaves it bright.

Yoongi slowly makes his way to the black leather armchair, sitting down on it and leaning forward to inspect the desk. Absurdly large, it is mostly uncovered except for a diary with some unreadable scrawls on it, an ancient laptop that doesn't turn on, and a ruler. "Is this your office?" Yoongi asks incredulously.

Jimin cackles before he can help himself, moving forward to perch on the edge of the desk in front of Yoongi. "Does it look like I'd get anything done here? It's a play room, baby."

"Play room?" his husband replies dully, but Jimin doesn't miss the way his eyes are zoned in on Jimin's body, the intimidating leather jacket fixed with a tightly buckled belt around his waist, the skintight black jeans that barely contained his thighs, and perfectly glossed black dress shoes, his calling card amongst the typical stomping boots or knife-thin stilettos that most other doms wore. He always got dressed at the dungeon, leaving the house in unassuming sweatpants and a hoodie, so he gets no little satisfaction in relishing his husband's first reaction to the getup.

"That's right," he confirms with a smirk, crossing his legs. "We have five of them at the moment, though the sixth one is almost ready for use. This one is for your typical CEO or professor roleplays, we have a medical one, an interrogation one," Jimin rattles them off on his fingers, watching the way Yoongi's eyes bug out at each addition, "just a basic bedroom one for the vanilla stuff, one that actually looks like a dungeon, and the new one is gonna be an outdoor one."

"Outdoor?" Yoongi asks with a unsteady voice, before shaking his head to clear the thoughts. "Anyway, here is fine, I just- I had to get away from work, Minnie, and I... I was thinking..."

Jimin frowns in sympathy, leaning forward to stroke the back of Yoongi's hand. "I can leave early, I don't have anything else booked today, I was mostly planning on sticking to the social lounge-"

"I don't wanna go home," Yoongi slips in hurriedly, flipping his hand on the arm of the chair to link their fingers together tightly, though his eyes don't leave Jimin's for a second. "I know that you like to keep this job and our own love life separate, and I'm not going to force you, but- I came here because I want to submit to you."

Jimin's eyes widen, his breath catching in his chest. A switch at heart, Jimin had always found it a nice balance to indulge his dominant side here at work, and return home for Yoongi to take care of him, and it had always worked well. Even before they were serious, right in the early days of fucking like rabbits and pretending they weren't entirely smitten, Yoongi had always easily taken that more dominant role, though most of their sex to this day was far less kinky than the kind of demonstrations Jimin ran here. What Yoongi was asking wasn't just to be pampered and taken care of, but to be taken control of. And Jimin couldn't deny the ball of heat that was quickly building inside of him at that thought.

"Baby," he sighs, forcing himself to keep professionalism in mind, "I can't- We can't do anything here without you filling out some paperwork. The list of kinks and limits at the least. Not just as an employee, but as your husband, I gotta keep you safe."

"I know," Yoongi insists, and he frees his hand from Jimin's grip just long enough to plunge a hand into his pants pocket, pulling out a tightly folded piece of paper, handing it to Jimin.

Oddly enough, the folds are worn, not crisp, and as Jimin unfolds it, the text - printed in 12 point Times New Roman, because of course Yoongi would type it up with perfect formatting - has lost the freshly-printed gloss.

"I've been working up the courage to come here for months, Jimin-ah," Yoongi explains in a shy but determined voice. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to feel pressured at all either way, but please know that this is something that I've researched, and that I'm serious about." His solemn expression turns slightly cheeky, almost impish. "You literally make a living domming people, Minnie. I've been fantasising about it long before I even realised I wanted it."

A thrill of arousal runs through Jimin, straight between his legs, and he tightens his thighs, taking a settling breath. "Oh, baby," he coos, eyes dropping to read Yoongi's well-documented and organised list of kinks and limits, scanning over some surprising - and not-so-surprising - tidbits, "I'm gonna take such good care of you."

The air rushes out of Yoongi's lungs as he unconsciously scoots forward in the chair, leaning in. "Do we- Do we just start now, or do you need to go get some-" he breaks off, blushing violently, "some equipment?"

Jimin breaks into a broad smile, eyes crinkling as he steps forward, steps close, ringed fingers slipping into Yoongi's hair on either side, tipping his husband's face up as his chin rests on Jimin's lower abdomen. "Oh, my big boy wants to play with some toys, huh?" Jimin can feel when Yoongi swallows hard, his eyes not glossy with subspace, instead keen and sharp with pointed desire. "Don't worry, baby, this room isn't as empty as you think."

When he steps away, dropping all contact, Yoongi slumps like a puppet with cut strings, catching himself before he slips off the chair, instead lying back against it, chest heaving beneath the starch white of his dress shirt.

Jimin makes his way first to the bookshelves, looking back over his shoulder to catch Yoongi's reaction as he finds a notch in the framing and pulls, revealing that they aren't real shelves at all, simply disguised cabinets that swing open to reveal the hidden delights inside. The three closest to the desk are filled with clothes of all sizes, office-wear spanning pencil skirts to neckties to blazers, a few frumpy pieces that remind Jimin of dorky professors, even some school uniforms, cut far shorter than regulation.

With a grin, Jimin pulls at a pleated plaid skirt, smirking at Yoongi. "In the mood for dress-up, baby? Show off those pretty legs of yours."

Yoongi, still with some wits about him, narrows his eyes with a mock scowl, his disapproval clear.

Jimin sighs out wistfully, but lets it go. "Another time, maybe." Ignoring Yoongi's light scoff, he nudges the doors shut with his foot one at a time and moves to the last one, where the facade of stacked books hides a series of hooks nailed into the back wall.

Jimin doesn't need to even face Yoongi to know he's squirming in his chair - the squeaking leather gives it away. Strung up are floggers, whips, switches, and neatly coiled bundles of rope, catalogued by length. His husband had expressed interest in both impact play and bondage, several different types of both, and so it's no surprise that the sight of those fantasies had Yoongi breathing heavily. He leaves that cupboard open.

"There are so many things we could play with in here, baby," Jimin assures, patting the folded piece of paper that he'd slipped into his own pocket, "and your list was pretty extensive, so before we get started, any particular preference?"

Yoongi swallows again, hair slightly rucked up from Jimin's hands. Jimin can't wait to see it totally mussed up, see his husband in ruins, see him love it. With wary eyes on Jimin as he moves behind the desk towards the filing cabinets, Yoongi nods. "The- what you were doing with that guy on stage. I- I want that."

Jimin blinks, turning his back to his husband to mask his surprise, fingers hooking the edge of the top drawer of one of the cabinets, each one labelled alphabetically. "Is that so? We did a lot on that stage, baby, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."

Yoongi is silent for a moment, his breathing the only sound as Jimin carefully slides the drawer open, revealing neatly sectioned rows of anal plugs. He grins. A for Anal, B for Bondage, C for Chastity. The designers really took their job seriously, and he could appreciate the humour in it.

He lets Yoongi take his time, knowing that saying something is often the hardest part. Instead, he notes the location of the drawer marked P, and turns back to his husband.

Looking incredibly small, tucked up on the intentionally oversized armchair, Yoongi clears his throat, making shy eye contact. "The paddles," he says in a high tone, like he's unsure he's even using the correct word, "I want you to- to hit me with them like you did him."

"You want me to spank that pretty little ass of yours?" Jimin confirms, loving the way his husband goes bright pink.

"Y-yeah," he replies breathily, dropping his gaze. "Will you?"

Despite the raging fire inside him, Jimin's heart leaps fondly, so in love with his husband and all his endearing mannerisms. "Of course, baby. But let's start slow, hm? Gotta make your first time special, don't we?"

Yoongi laughs, then, full of air and barely audible, his lips lilting in a small smile that still shows his teeth.

Jimin tilts his head to the side. "What?"

With a tiny head shake, Yoongi contains his grin. "I just really wanna kiss you right now."

Jimin is moving before he's even finished speaking, his hip barely missing the corner of the desk in his haste to join his husband, knees straddling his lap without hesitation, holding those soft cheeks in both hands as he presses his lips firmly against Yoongi's, eyes fluttering shut.

Their parting kiss before Yoongi left for work this morning feels too long ago, and for a moment their new arrangement is forgotten as they fall into their usual motions, years of marriage making every inch of Yoongi's lips feel familiar, the bump of their noses and brush of eyelashes like home even in such a different environment.

With no rush, Jimin lets himself indulge in it, burying one hand in Yoongi's hair, carding through the choppy black locks that are no longer gelled back. His other hand slides down Yoongi's jaw, neck, and chest, tugging at the knot of his tie to loosen it. He makes no effort to be gentle, and his husband just groans into Jimin's mouth at the rough treatment.

It's all too easy to shift into his dom space, a practiced scale of gradually increasing intensity. It begins with the tie, but soon enough Jimin punctuates their ongoing kiss with hard sucks and quick nips of teeth, Yoongi tipping his chin up to drown in it more. Testing the waters, Jimin rocks his hips once against Yoongi's taut crotch and yanks once on a fistful of hair, baring the pale expanse of Yoongi's neck.

The debauched lawyer bucks beneath him, hands flying to grip tightly at Jimin's waist. His long, beautiful fingers and wide palm have always made Jimin feel weak at the knees, and feeling them grasp at him not in command but in desperation feels addictive.

"You like that?" he breathes, voice low enough to almost growl, and Yoongi shivers as he nods his affirmation. "Good," Jimin praises, and dives down, teeth grazing down the sensitive skin of Yoongi's throat, skimming until he feels the throb of his pulse point. Yoongi can't risk marks at work, certainly not in court, but it's a Friday, and Jimin is feeling more possessive than usual. He nips lightly but laps at the skin thoroughly, knowing the best he can get away with is a reddened bite mark which would fade over the weekend. The hickies were best saved for other areas, he knew.

Yoongi is panting like a horse now, air punched through his nostrils as he bites down hard on his own swollen lip. Jimin knows the effect he has on his subs, and grins against the glistening wet skin of Yoongi's neck at the hardness that has grown between his legs. "Wuh-want more, Minnie," he gasps out, "need more."

Jimin hums, making sure Yoongi can feel the vibrations in the hollow of his throat, sliding up to press kisses to that hyper-sensitive place just behind Yoongi's ear that always made him tremble.

It doesn't disappoint, Yoongi letting out a shaky breath as his arms wrap around Jimin's waist, trying to bring him closer.

Jimin doesn't let him, though, pulling back to sit on his haunches, running a thumb down Yoongi's reddened lower lip to watch the way it springs back into place. Yoongi sits still, eyes cloudy as he lets his dom for the night play with him. The thought pleases Jimin; that Yoongi truly was wanting this, truly was willing to give up control to him.

He spares a glance down between his own thighs, where the cool grey of Yoongi's slacks makes no attempt at hiding his bulging erection. Pouting in sympathy, Jimin reaches out with a single finger to trace the outline, watching the muscles in his husband's thighs tense as he fights to stay still. "So hard already, baby," Jimin drawls, "do you think that pretty little cock of yours can wait its turn while I spank you, hm? Can it be patient for me?"

Yoongi flushes, whining Jimin's name under his breath. "Yes," he admits, huffing out a reluctant sigh.

"Yes what?"

Yoongi grimaces at Jimin, but the dom just raises an expectant brow. "Yes, my- my pretty little cock can be patient for you," Yoongi murmurs in the quietest voice he can manage, cheeks red hot.

"That's my boy," Jimin beams, rewarding his husband by popping the button and pulling down the zip on the fly of Yoongi's slacks, releasing some of the pressure. Yoongi groans, deep in his throat, but his relief is quickly thwarted once Jimin stands up off him.

Making his way back to the filing cabinets, Jimin quickly slides open the one labeled P. Splayed out neatly lie five different paddles. Three are plastic, one a basic rounded shape, another that same shape only with several small holes drilled through for a sharper impact, and a final one a rectangular shape. The next one is hard wood, heavy, Jimin recalls, and the one tucked at the back is a softly upholstered pleather one for beginners. Then there's the ruler, of course, though that's a little cheesy for the current mood.

He assesses the five inside at his leisure, knowing every moment of anticipation will feel like an eternity to his husband, and finally makes a choice. He slides the cabinet drawer closed.

Yoongi makes a wounded, cut-off noise in his throat, but Jimin sends him a firm gaze.

"I'll give you what you want, baby," Jimin assures, wetting his lips, "but first I want to feel you myself. Pants and underwear off, jacket off, I want you bent over my desk."

Yoongi sucks in a sudden breath, but stands up on wobbly legs and slips off his blazer. It's probably too expensive to be dumping it on the chair behind him, but Yoongi clearly isn't worried about that as he kicks off his shoes and pants too, only hesitating once his fingers are hooked on the elastic waistband of his underwear.

"Off," Jimin demands harshly, "I won't ask again."

This time Yoongi obeys without delay, and Jimin takes great pleasure in watching the way his husband's cock leaps up once it's freed, pretty and pink and wetter than he'd ever seen it before. Though Yoongi always tended to top, his cock was smaller - more slender, at least - than Jimin's, but he loved it, loved that a hasty three fingers was enough prep on those times that they just couldn't wait to devour each other.

Now, though, with mussed hair and wrinkled shirt, naked from the waist down bar a pair of black ankle socks, Jimin's husband looked positively adorable in the most erotic way, and Jimin wanted nothing more than to make him wait, make him work to cum.

When Yoongi folds himself over the desk, side-on to Jimin to make use of the length of the surface, his hands awkwardly hover on either side of him, keeping himself slightly upright still. The back of his shirt is just long enough to cover the tops of his cheeks, and the sight of his rounded ass and dripping cock peeking through is enough to make Jimin actively restrain himself, taking a moment to breathe and appreciate this opportunity.

He steps forward, planting a hand between Yoongi's shoulder blades and presses, slow enough that Yoongi has time to move his face to the side to avoid banging his chin, but firm enough that there's no resisting. Yoongi goes willingly, however, his back arching as the table is just lower than his hips. Like this, no fabric obstructs Jimin's view, and he hums, pleased. "Good boy."

Yoongi trembles, his legs tight together and knees shaking just slightly. He's nervous at the vulnerable position, but no less aroused for it.

With the tip of his shoe, Jimin guides Yoongi's legs apart, until his socked feet are wider than his hips, until he needs to lean his weight onto the desktop to keep stable.

"That's it," Jimin praises, "my perfect little slut. So obedient."

Yoongi's right knee buckles at the exact moment that he hears the pet name, and Jimin grins. The piece of paper in his pocket had a long list of suggestions for names he was okay being called, and the dom couldn't resist picking out his favourite. The perfect mix of praise and degradation, it flowed so well on his tongue; the smooth, melodic sounds punctuated by the sharp hit of the t. Slut. Jimin muffles a groan, pressing on his own straining erection.

Unable to help himself, he reaches out, both hands grabbing at the plush ass cheeks in front of him, spreading them to watch the way Yoongi clenches at the sudden exposure. This must be what he looks like when they play together, Jimin thinks. He wonders if Yoongi is enjoying the change in pace just as much as he is.

"I'm going to start you off with just my hands, baby," he introduces, running a palm under the hem of his shirt and up Yoongi's spine to watch the way he shivers. "I'm sure you're well aware of the traffic light system, hm? Tell me what the colours mean."

Yoongi shifts, fingers curling uselessly against the tabletop as his eyes remain squeezed shut. "Red means stop, yellow means slow down, green means go," he recites, the exact phrasing off the dungeon's website, and Jimin bends down to press a single soft kiss on the top of Yoongi's ass as a reward, making him twitch violently. "Fuck, Jimin-ah," he sighs, arching his back even more.

Jimin grins. "Good. I'm adding another colour, just for you," he explains. "Gold. Can you guess what gold means?"

Yoongi swallows, shifts his weight, and shakes his head.

Jimin digs his fingers into the flesh of Yoongi's ass, watching them pillow in roughly. "Gold means more. Gold means harder. Okay?"

Yoongi nods quickly, hair even more tangled with every movement.

"Good boy," Jimin croons, and without further comment his left hand rises and comes down in a single strike.

Yoongi seizes up for a second at the shock of it, but there's no power behind the hit, and his brain realises a moment later that no pain follows the loud noise. He huffs in need and pushes his hips back, silently asking for more. "Gold, g-gold," he mutters offbeat, already panting.

Jimin hums in pleasure, and swats his right cheek this time, feeling a sting bloom across his palm. Still not nearly the hardest he can go, it's clearly not enough for Yoongi, as he remains stoic, waiting for more.

The next time, Jimin lets his hand really catch the air on the way down, but he doesn't stop at one hit, raining down three in quick succession on the same spot. Yoongi breathes through the first impact, freezes in surprise at the second one, and an unbidden moan falls out of his mouth at the third.

"Mm, that's better, isn't it?" Jimin muses rhetorically, soothing the slightly pinked patch of skin with his warmed hand. "Just need a bit more pain to let go."

"Please," Yoongi breathes, "jus' keep going."

"Bossy," Jimin teases, "I'm meant to be giving you orders, baby. If you don't quit it, I might not give you what you want at all."

"Sorry, I'm sorry, ple-please hit me again," Yoongi begs mindlessly, and Jimin can't help but indulge him, his husband sounding so pretty when he whines.

When he returns to spanking again, it's in earnest. Instead of pausing to check in each time, he relies on his husband's telling cues to moderate it, as well as the sweet pleas of gold, gold every time Jimin spent too long between swats.

Much like the rest of him, Yoongi's ass blooms candied pink, and with every strike, Jimin can't help but venture further, wanting to colour him in all over. The spanks that fall on Yoongi's upper thighs make him restless, squirming and moaning wordlessly. The ones that land on the fatty portion of his ass have him sighing happily, crooked smile slicked in drool against the wood of the desk.

The two of them slip into an unspoken rhythm for a while, alternating these hits on either side, of varying number and intensity, until Yoongi has almost fallen into a trance of sorts, mouth hanging open slackly as a whine or moan or whimper is falling out of his mouth with every single thwack.

Jimin's arm begins to tire, and just as he pauses to shake out the joints, Yoongi pants a, "wait, wait," making him pause.

It takes a moment for Yoongi to catch his breath, but Jimin waits patiently, scanning his ass and thighs for any sign of something that could be causing undue comfort, but he comes up short. With a weak, slurred voice, Yoongi lets out a sob. "I wanna use the paddle, Minnie, I wanna feel it," he pleads, "I've h-had enough of the spanking."

Jimin furrows his brows in concern, massaging out the sore tissue as Yoongi goes lax beneath him. "If you've had enough, baby, we should stop. I don't wanna push you."

Yoongi actually tears up, biting hard on his lip as he shakes his head. "Please, Minnie, just a few times, I just need it to be- to be heavy. I don't know, but I need it. Gold, please gold."

"Okay," Jimin is agreeing softly, squatting down to press reassuring kisses against the hot flesh, feeling his own palm stinging. He leaves only to slide open the drawer of paddles, selecting the wooden one. He knew from subspace himself that sometimes those base, thoughtless needs stemmed from something deeper, from an emotional need tangled up daily life. Once, in the early days of doing demonstrations at the dungeon, Jimin had gotten stage fright and done such a poor job of a fingering tutorial that the sweet sub he was working on didn't even cum. He'd come home to Yoongi bawling in humiliation, and his husband had lain him down on their bed and made him cum so many times that he couldn't even think, couldn't move a single limb. Now, Jimin had no doubt that the need to feel a heavy impact had something to do with the reason Yoongi had taken an uncharacteristic sick day.

Talking about it wouldn't help, would only break the escapism of the scene, so Jimin just runs the face of the wooden paddle over Yoongi's sore ass, letting him grow accustomed to the feel and texture. "Just two hits," Jimin declares, "one on each cheek. No more. Focus on them, baby. Eyes closed, just feel them."

He waits until Yoongi settles, spreading his legs wider with wiggling toes, and catching his breath, one hand pressed over his teary eyes.

Jimin swings the paddle backwards, not up, and lets it impact on Yoongi's left cheek first, a wet, strangled moan leaving his husband's mouth at the thuddy feel. The wooden paddle didn't hurt like spanking or a lighter paddle. It was about the weighty feel of it hitting your skin, a light hit so as not to cause bruising.

A line of tension disappears between Yoongi's clothed shoulders, the sweaty fabric clinging to his back. He's calmed down, fully, waiting patiently for the second strike. The second Jimin rains that final hit, he drops the paddle onto the carpeted floor, exhausted himself, and moves around to the side of the desk, bending awkwardly over it to press his mouth to Yoongi's, who makes a muffled sound of surprise before responding in turn.

Jimin's hand is curled around the nape of his husband's neck, keeping him close as tears mingle with spit, their kiss salty and desperate.

He feels a vibration between them before he hears anything, has to focus hard to hear Yoongi as he chants over and over like a prayer, thanking Jimin.

He slows the kiss after a sweet eternity, letting their heartbeats return to normal. Jimin's own eyes sting, love and concern a potent combination, but as the adrenaline settles back to normal, Yoongi calms down too, and seems to come back to himself.

He pulls away to let out a tired breath, laughing voicelessly. "Fuck," Yoongi curses with eyes still closed in bliss. "I get it now."

Jimin beams, a chuckle leaving his own lips as he sees the peace on his husband's face. After a moment, though, a frown appears as Yoongi furrows his brows. "What is it?"

"My dick hurts," Yoongi whines, managing to get his elbows under him to lift his chest from the table, head in his hands.

Jimin startles, standing bolt upright as he rushes down to look for any injury. "Oh shit, did I hit it?"

The laugh returns, bubbling out of Yoongi as he turns himself with great effort onto his back, chest still rising and falling dramatically. "No, Jimin-ah, don't worry," he assures, wincing when his ass-cheeks meet the unforgiving surface of the desk. "But if I don't cum soon, I think it's gonna explode."

Jimin's mouth falls open, relief and disbelief flooding his veins equally as he's faced with Yoongi's cock, so flushed with blood it's almost purple in places. "I- Okay, do you- do you want me to get you off, or do you want to keep playing?"

Yoongi looks at him like he's insane. "I mean... Preferably both, Minnie."

After the moment of scare, it takes surprisingly little time before that thrum of arousal is dialed up again, and Jimin smirks, running his hands up and down Yoongi's inner thighs to watch the way he naturally and obediently parts them for him.

"Do you know what I realised, baby?" Jimin coos, stubbornly avoiding the weeping cock in front of him. Yoongi mutters a weak response. "I realised that so far I've been doing all the work so far, haven't I? That isn't really fair, wouldn't you agree?"

Wary, Yoongi pauses and nods, the blur of tears long since replaced by the haze of arousal, of subspace beginning to creep in once more.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," Jimin drawls, flattening a hand heavy on the soft flesh just above Yoongi's cock, making the man moan and wriggle to escape the pressure. "So I think, if you want to get off, you should put a little work in yourself. Make some effort, baby."

Yoongi takes a few heaving breaths, before slowly, so carefully, lowering his hand down to wrap around the base of his cock, immediately groaning at the touch. He's leaked so much precum that it takes a single shaky stroke to coat the sensitive skin, and a relieved smile spreads over his face at the thought that he's finally going to get off.

But where's the fun in that?

"Don't you think you're being a little selfish?" Jimin spits stiffly, and flicks once at the very tip of Yoongi's dick.

His husband practically howls, curling up with a depraved cry. "Wha-at?" he sobs, hand trembling as it hovers on his thigh, fighting his desire. "What do you want, Minnie?"

"How sweet of you to ask," Jimin praises in a sugar-sweet voice, reaching down to unzip his own jeans. "Those hands are big enough to fit the both of us, aren't they?"

Blearily, Yoongi looks down as Jimin slips his aching cock out from his pants, fitting himself between Yoongi's spread legs so that their bobbing lengths bump together.

Even that contact is enough to make Yoongi hiss, but he's desperate and so he nods quickly, fingers trembling as they grab Jimin's cock, pinning them together in his grip. He pauses, panting as he stares up at Jimin for permission.

Jimin smiles placidly, bending forward to press a single chaste kiss to his husband's lips. "I don't want you cumming before I do, okay?" he asks sweetly, though the threat is thinly veiled.

Using the strength of his abdomen to lift his upper half off the desk, Yoongi stabilises himself with an elbow while his other hand jerks the two of them off together, thumb running over the sensitive heads, paying extra attention to Jimin's.

"That's it," Jimin groans, biting hard on his tongue. Truth be told, it was hard enough for him to hold back, feeling threads of an orgasm already knitting together in his stomach. But he's not willing to let go of the pretty sight of Yoongi just yet, so debauched and far gone as he shivers with every stroke, torn between making Jimin cum and preventing his own climax.

After mere minutes, Yoongi has collapsed back onto the desk, ankles curled around Jimin's back to hold him close, hand shaking violently.

"Please," he begs occasionally, but the moment his hand slows down to give himself a break, Jimin pinches his inner thigh in warning. They both knew marks there were allowed.

It's not until Yoongi is quite literally biting down on his own knuckles to hold back an orgasm that Jimin can't keep himself from cumming anymore.

Greedily, he runs his hands over Yoongi's sides, skimming the shirt up to put his chest on display, flicking at the delicate pink nipples. Jimin cums so hard he almost buckles forward onto Yoongi, spurting white all over Yoongi's hand and cock.

He holds himself up shakily, spouting praises to Yoongi as the wave of pleasure rushes through him, making his toes tingle and his fingers curl, scratches down Yoongi's chest and stomach.

"Oh, god, I'm gonna- Mi-Minnie, can I cum, oh fuh-fuck, no!"

One last liberty taken in his time as Yoongi's dom, Jimin pulls himself away, pinning Yoongi's wrists to the table and watching as his cock, dripping white, bobs desperately in the air, seeking friction.

Yoongi babbles pleas and curses, hips jerking, but it only takes Jimin leaning down, blowing a single thin stream of cool air over Yoongi's cock for Yoongi's thighs to tense. He cums, untouched, shuddering and seizing on the table as Jimin takes mercy and wraps his hand around him to stroke him through it.

"Look at you," Jimin croons in wonder, watching cum spill between his fingers, the two of them mixed together indistinguishably. "Baby, you look perfect like this. Please tell me you want to do that again."

Yoongi makes a strangled, guttural noise as he goes limp on the table, legs dangling off the edge. "Fuck, not right away, you demon," he protests grumpily, "now come kiss me again."

With a fond beam, heart so full with love and post-orgasm endorphins that he can barely handle it, Jimin tugs him up by his forearms and joins their mouths together, Yoongi's one dry hand tangling in his hair as he smiles into the kiss.

It takes only a few moments, however, for the sticky reality to sink in, and soon enough Yoongi is parting, letting his forehead rest against Jimin's. "I don't suppose there are any wet wipes in here?" he ventures.

Jimin chuckles, leaning back. "Cleaning materials in the desk drawers," he divulges.

With crazy sex hair and wide eyes, Yoongi makes quite the picture. "Fuck, I love this place. Let's try the interrogation one next time, yeah?"

[seoafin]

more physical contact/touch starved hcs with gojo!!! but this time HES initiating the contact. also some of him being a little shit because he’s bored.

if you’re sitting in a chair without armrests and he comes back from an especially exhausting mission he’ll just collapse over your lap, legs and arms drooped on the floor. not the most comfortable position but he craves the contact, and especially relishes when you rub circles on the small of his back to comfort you.

he loves being behind people. from draping himself over your shoulders to grabbing your face from behind you to move your head around like you’re a bobble head... he even will play with your hair sometimes (and puts it in a shit braid or just tangles it). if it’s geto he will instead grab him by the sides of his neck and violently shake him back and forth. shoko just gets him combing her hair with his hands because last time he played with her hair he tangled it so bad it took an hour to get out. she almost killed him.

he also gives “massages” when he’s behind you. its in quotes because he’s horrible at it. for the most part, hes just chopping with his hands at your shoulders... claiming that he knows what he’s doing and you should trust him because “he’s a professional”. he usually does this when he’s bored, and it’s just something to keep himself occupied and plus he likes being in close contact with you all.

you know that scene in lilo and stitch where nani “collapses” onto lilo? yeah he does that a lot... and because he’s heavy and also has limitless... he can do this to ANYONE. he usually does this when you all don’t pay enough attention to him or to quickly deescalate a situation. occasionally you’ll walk past him laying on top of geto in the hallway. geto is completely trapped underneath him and can only look at you with pleading eyes for help.

i wrote in a bit ago about this but kisses kisses kisses. he loves giving and receiving kisses. big fat smooches on the top of your head for the most part, and trapping someone in his arms to give them a big fat wet raspberry on their cheek (favorite time for him to do this is when someone is pissed at him). one time you gave him an idea regarding limitless and without thinking he grabbed you face, kissed your forehead, and ran to the courtyard to try your theory out.

grabbing your hands and lacing your fingers together when you’re standing next to each other, purely to start swinging both of your arms around when hes bored. one time was doing this with geto and they got competitive when it came to how violent they could swing their arms... it ended up with getos elbow smashing into his own face and giving him a nosebleed, leaving shoko to reset his nose before healing it and for gojo with a shiteating grin in the background because he “won”.

when he’s distressed he usually will walk up to you, body slumped and eyes looking downward. this gives you the cue for you to open up your arms, letting him lean into you and wrap his arms around your waist tightly and pressing his nose into your hair or shoulder. he won’t let go for a while... sometimes you have to guide him to the couch so he can instead just lay on top of you. when you have to lay down he occasionally falls asleep on you... and you’re trapped underneath him as if he was a huge cat napping on your stomach. this started when geto first left.

i have so many more of these you don’t even KNOW. touch starved/platonically handsy gojo is one of my favorite headcanons.

something about gojo dropping to his knees and dramatically wrapping himself around your waist while you’re seated on a chair, his face smooshed in your lap is sending me 😭

touchy/clingy gojo who conveys his words through touch >>>>>

i bet gojo’s a child during meetings like he’s always playing with your hands or wrapping your hair around his finger and lightly tugging

and i just know geto and gojo did that thing where gojo bumped his shoulder to geto’s and geto did it back and gojo returned it with x10 force and geto ended up shoving gojo on the floor 💀

you know when gojo wants attention bc he always does that™ stare, blindfold off, that you can’t ignore because you can feel it!!! it’s so unnerving 😭😭

or just the two of you...sitting in silence. maybe you’re reading a book and gojo’s on his phone, head in your lap. or you’re head is on his lap. sometimes while you’re grading, he rests his head on your shoulder until you’re done and then he can annoy you into going out to dinner with him

gojo absentmindedly reaching for your nearest body part and rubbing circles on your thigh or hand or wrist and every time the two of you go out he always likes to have a hand on you, “it’s so you don’t get lost! you know how you get!”