#i could v easily be swayed into going a hard yes on making this a discord/tumblr hybrid if enough ppl wanted it

[dominicusrpg]

SOOOOOO hype for this — is this going to be a tumblr or discord rp or some fusion of the two? ty!!

Funny story! Every day I spent creating this I swapped between it being tumblr only and a hybrid of both. The (unfortunate) conclusion was I've never run a discord rp and I felt too nervous to attempt a hybrid because of that. I'm tempted to go co-admin hunting so I can make it a hybrid since I know a lot more people write on discord nowadays (myself included), but I'm going to give it a few days to gain some traction and interest before I drag someone else into this make a final choice on it. (And I am so very hyped that you're hyped!!)

[tayraedoll]

Radio Daddy

My entry for @6esiree contest! I hope you enjoy this little story!

18+ MDNI

This is my take on what the dynamic between Alastor and a Gen Z radio host would be like. A little bit of rivalry, a little bit of sexual tension, and a lot of attitude.

Word count: 2979

TW: Smut, P in V Intercourse, Oral (male receiving), Rough s3x, soul deals, swearing, Alastor is a bit mean, but reader likes it

"...and that is why Hell would be better off as a matriarchy", you spoke into your mic. It had been a long four hours of broadcasting, you were exhausted and definitely looking forward to dinner by this point. But you also loved the studio, the freedom of creating your own show and speaking your mind, and the power to sway the masses that listened.

"Don't forget- I will be DJing at the Hazbin Hotel Grand Re-Opening tomorrow night! It's sure to be lit so stop by and have a drink with me. Until next time, stay gucci my friends!"

You signed off and leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes and taking a moment to relax. The tranquility didn't last long however, before you had a chance to take a breath you heard the telltale radio static of your boss- Alastor The Radio Demon. You sigh before opening your eyes and turning to the futon in the corner of your recording studio.

You arrived in hell 2.5 years ago after unfortunately overdosing when someone spiked your drink at a gig. When you learned that Hell only had one radio station you set out to create your own; everyone called you crazy, that the radio was the domain of the infamous Radio Demon. But at that time he had been missing for 5 years, his radio show nothing but static whispering memories of the past. So you brushed everyone off and made your own show anyways. It was an instant hit, your fan base expanded rapidly as sinners were eager to listen to a new voice in Hell's media scene. You had found your niche, your place in the despondent plane called Hell.

For two years you were the queen of radio, but you unfortunately sat atop a borrowed throne. Six months ago you were broadcasting like any other day when, after signing off, you had found yourself locked inside your own studio as the shadows of the room crawled over you. Alastor had offered you a choice- either you sign a soul contract with him and continue your show under his administration, or you cease broadcasting for the rest of your afterlife. You suppose you should count your lucky stars that he didn't just kill you, you were technically a rival after all and you had heard how he dealt with others who challenged him. His reason for letting you live was just one of the many mysteries of The Radio Demon.

Said demon now sat on your futon, back ramrod straight and legs neatly crossed and tucked underneath him. His fingers were interlaced in his lap as he smiled radiantly at you.

"Evening my little doll! Riveting performance as always! Although, I do have one note. You recall a discussion we had earlier about not using profane language while on air yes?", his smile tightened, his eyes hardening ever so slightly in annoyance.

You rest your chin in your palm and give him the most bored expression you could muster,"No one gives a shit if I swear Alastor. We are in Hell, or have you forgotten?"

Everyone else was scared shitless of this man, but he made your heart rate spike for an entirely different reason than he did for most others. Your boss was fucking HOT. You regularly pleasured yourself as you listened to his own radio show he revived upon his return, your thighs automatically clenched together at the sound of his voice. So, in retribution for him being so damn attractive, you behaved like the biggest brat. It was a victorious day if you could make his ears twitch, an almost imperceptible movement of his fluff that would be easily missed if you weren't looking so hard for it.

Your sassy remark earned you the little ear flick you were going for which made you smirk, your Overlord employer narrowing his eyes at you in warning. "I really wouldn't start with that smart mouth if I were you Darling. Need I remind you that I own your little show? Therefore, you will abide by my rules- no more profanity. This is the end of the discussion." His tone left no room for argument; as much as you liked pushing his buttons, you were not stupid and knew when to quit while you were ahead...or alive that is. You let the argument go with a scoff and a mumbled "Fine".

Alastor beamed back at you once again, his voice returning to its normal, chipper tone, "Splendid! Now on to business- I would like to hear what you have prepared for the hotel's ceremony tomorrow. This event means quite a lot to our dear Princess Morningstar and I will not let her down." You caught the underlying threat, really it was you who carried the burden of making sure you upheld his image. Your job was not just to entertain the hotel guests, but to make The Radio Demon look good as well.

Luckily for you, Charlie was huge fan of your show. She would regularly call in to talk to you about your chosen discussion topic of the day and put in song requests. Really you had known Charlie for longer than Alastor had, you knew exactly what she liked and were more than prepared to cater your services for her party. Your smile sweetened again as you logged into your playlist for the Grand Re-Opening Ceremony, "I was going for a persevering and uplifting kinda vibe, concentrating on songs that will give girl-power and fuck-the-system. Charlie is a Swiftie, so I made sure to add several of her greatest hits to the line-up like 'Shake it Off' and 'Look What You Made Me Do'." You turn your laptop around so your boss could look at the playlist you made, only to be met with him giving you a "are you dumb?" look.

"There is absolutely no way you will be bringing that ridiculous contraption into my hotel Darling", he pointed to your computer with revulsion written clearly on his face as if the laptop personally wronged him.

You bark a short, incredulous laugh, "Alastor, if I can't bring my equipment into the hotel then how exactly am I supposed to do my job?" You cross your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair, waiting for him to explain his absurd rules that will only hinder your ability to make him proud.

"VoxTek cannot be trusted and is not allowed in the hotel- particularly by my very own employees! No no no no, I will provide you with everything you will need to provide top-notch entertainment to our esteemed guests", he snapped his fingers and a retro-looking record player and several record albums appeared beside your desk.

You became more and more exasperated as you rifled through the collection before you, "There isn't even anything from the last 50 years in here! As far as I'm aware, this isn't a "Roaring 20's"-themed party. If the goal is to make a good impression and get more sinners to stay at the hotel then we need to offer more than just old jazz tunes!"

The Radio Demon clutched at his chest in offense to your comment, "My Doll, no one partied harder than we did in the 20's. Jazz and speakeasies were truly the pinnacle of entertainment. I assure you that if you stick to my plan all will go just swimmingly." His voice hardened again at the end of his speech, warning you to just follow along. But you wouldn't, not when you knew you were right.

"And how many sinners from the NINETEEN-20's will be there exactly?!", your voice rose in volume with each word,"Face it, Alastor, most of the sinners there will be from more recent times. Therefore, we need to play music that ISN'T 100 years old!" You got up and started pacing your studio, completely oblivious to the growing radio static filtering off the man in red or how his antlers were starting to grow more tines. "Honestly, it's like you don't even try to connect to your audience anymore. I don't understand your complete aversion to modern technology, if you don't learn to adapt your are going to be left behind-", you stopped abruptly in the middle of the room, staring at the wall as the epiphany hit you like a ton of bricks. Your back was turned to the now irate Overlord, his claws dug into the leather of your futon to stop himself from launching at you. "That's why I'm here", you whispered, "You didn't kill me, you made me sign a soul deal so you could use me to bridge the gap between you and the younger audiences of hell. The younger generations find your show BORING."

You whip around with a triumphant smile on your face, ecstatic that you figured out the clever demon's ploy. Your face paled and the smile quickly disappeared when you took in the state of The Radio Demon. His normal crab-claw antlers now more closely resembled an elk's spread, the sclera of his eyes were jet black. The ever-present smile still adorned his face, but it now resembled a malicious grin akin to one you'd associate with The Joker. He rumbled out a low, dangerously dark chuckle that had the hair along your arms raising in goosebumps.

"Oh my Doll, you really should have learned when to quit running your mouth", he stood up and had you backed into the wall in three strides flat. "I should kill you for your insubordination, if you were anyone else you would be a mangled mess of blood and bone where you stand", his eyes bore down on you. Your heart hammered away in your chest as he lifted one hand to your face but you refused to flinch away from him, if this was how you died a second death then you would not give him the satisfaction of seeing your fear. Instead of dealing you a death blow, however, he gently dragged a claw from your temple to your chin. "Luckily for you, Princess Charlie would never forgive me if you were hurt by my hands. That... and I admit that I have grown quite fond of you myself. But-", his claw dug into the point where your chin and throat met just behind your jawbone, "-there must still be punishment. What kind of Overlord would I be if I let my possessions speak to me in such a disrespectful manner?"

You opened your mouth to plead your case but were quickly shot down, "Careful Doll. I enjoy you, but be careful. In fact, perhaps it is best if you do not speak at all", he chuckled again before summoning your soul chain in his hands. The bright, radioactive green glow of the chain blinded you momentarily and before you could process what was happening you were yanked to the other side of the room. When your eyes finally focused again you were on your knees with Alastor sat on the edge of the futon in front of you.

"Now Darling, how about you show me if that smart mouth of yours is good for something other than backtalk?", he pulled the chain again and your face came just inches from his crotch. You looked up at him with wide eyes, was he really asking you to do what you thought he was asking you to do? The way his eyes narrowed and his grin widened told you that yes- he wanted you to do exactly what you were thinking.

Well, you know what they say- what The Radio Demon wants, the Radio Demon gets. With a newfound determination you steeled your resolve and ran your fingers up his thighs to his belt. Without ever breaking eye contact with him you slowly unbuckled and removed the belt before opening his trousers. His cock was only half-hard under his briefs, running a finger up the length of it made it twitch deliciously and you smirked again before you freed his length from its fabric prison.

Even at only half-mast he was of impressive length and girth, no doubt you would struggle to take all of him once he was fully hard. Your mouth watered at the thought, you glanced back up at his face and noticed how his jaw was clenched in anticipation, eyes half-lidded at he stared at your mouth.

His expression was all the confirmation you needed before you leaned forward and licked up the length of his shaft from tip to base, nose brushing against the red curls of his pubic bone. Alastor gasped sharply above you, one hand wringing your hair around it as the other hand held your leash taut.

You teased his lower head with your tongue, swirling around it tantalizingly slowly. Gently parting your lips, you take just the mushroomed part into your mouth and give a gentle suck before teasing with your tongue again. You repeat this process a few times until his cock stands at full attention. After the third suck, he lets out a growl uses his hand in your hair to force you down further on his cock, clearly tired of the teasing. A small gag escaped your throat before you forced it to relax to accommodate the sudden intrusion. With a moan you slowly pushed forward until you felt him bottom out at the back of your throat.

"That's it Doll, such a good girl", Alastor gritted out through his teeth, holding your head there for a moment. You slowly started to bob your head, lips wrapped tightly around his shaft giving a popping sound every time they passed his engorged tip. Your tongue ran along the vein on the underside of his length, the skin velvety and warm.

After several long, slow passes, the deer demon gripped your head again to still your bobbing movements with your nose buried in his curls. Without a warning, he harshly pulled back and thrusted forward again, burying himself as deep down your esophagus as he could go. You sputtered, gagging sharply and tears instantly forming in your eyes. Your hands came up to push against his thighs but the chain on your neck quickly pulled tight again to keep you from moving a centimeter off his cock.

"Nuh-uh-uh Dear, it's time you learn your lesson for talking back to your master", he pulled back again just to thrust back into your mouth with brutal force. True to his word, he set a punishing pace. You struggled to breath between his continuous assault on your throat and the saliva that pooled in your mouth, dripping down your chin in thick spouts. Tears clouded your vision, all you could do was sit there and take his punishment and try not to pass out from lack of air. Every breath you managed to take came in through a gasp and left through a gag.

"My, my Doll. What pretty noises you make, so much better than the sassy remarks you usually give me. Perhaps you deserve a reward for taking your punishment without complaint."

You were suddenly pushed back off his cock, your lungs taking full advantage of the reprieve by gulping in as much air as they could. Clawed hands gripped your elbows as strong arms picked you up from the floor, your knees hit the futon cushion as your forearms landed on the back of the frame. A sudden breeze alerted you that your skirt was hiked up over your hips and your heard fabric ripping as your panties were torn from your core.

Alastor held your hips in a bruising grip and he thrusted into you, filling you to the hilt in the first go. A strangled moan left your raw throat, hands clenching onto the back of the couch. You were given minimal time to get used to the full feeling before Alastor resumed his brutal pace from before.

"I'll tell you what my dear, I'll make you a deal. I will provide you with a more modern record player and the vinyls for all those songs you wanted to play tomorrow as I still will not allow VoxTek technology in the hotel," you were honestly only partially listening as his tip was hitting your g-spot with every word. "In exchange, your body is mine to use as I see fit. Does that sound fair Doll?"

A lewd moan escaped you as he continued to drag his length through your walls, "Fuck Alastor-"

He stopped his movements just as you were reaching your peak making you whine in displeasure "I asked you a question- do we have a deal? You will not cum until you've answered me."

"Yes, Alastor! It's a deal. Please, please, please make me cum!", you cried out, you were so desperate for release you would have agreed to anything he asked.

"Hmm, I quite like you begging Doll. I quite like punishing you as well- I do hope you continue to behave like a brat, just to give me an excuse", he resumed his pace and before you knew it you were pushed over the edge, clenching hard around him. Alastor's own release soon followed as he spilled into you with a groan.

You knelt there on the futon, catching your breath as he pulled out and redressed himself. Once he was neatly tucked away again he walked around the couch to your face. His index finger lifted your chin so you were looking up at him, "I will see you tomorrow my doll, do not be late."

With that he disappeared into the shadows, leaving you reeling from what just happened. After a few minutes of processing the unexpected turn of events the smirk returned to your face.

"I wonder what would happened if I was just 5 minutes late?"

[it-happened-one-fic]

Dancing with Visions - It Isn't Unusual - Charleston - Venti

Author Notes: I forgot how difficult it was to write the Charleston and writing it with Venti (a character I have written very little with) made this doubly hard. But that's what I get for randomizing the matches between characters and dances. I wrote this fic will listening to the song "It's Not Unusual" by Tom Jones. The performance in this fic was inspired by a couple Charleston by Sondre and Tanya, viewable here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmY_QNOFvRY. Just like the rest of this series, reader is female. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more of this series, the fics can be found here: Dancing with Visions Masterlist.

Type: Female reader/ dance/ fluff/ platonic or romantic/ sfw

Word Count: 1036

Realistically speaking, I should have known something was going to happen when Venti, of all people, sat down next to me on a bench despite the festival that surrounded us. Because, for Venti, festivals were important. He could make a lot of easy money, get people to buy him drinks, and have a generally good time without anyone to really scold him about his alcohol intake. Because, bluntly put, a festival in Mondstadt always meant alcohol.

So for Venti, who could be argued to be the man of the hour, to abandon the festivities and instead sit with me on the sidelines was odd.

Even more so, though, I really should have known better than to accept his excuse that it wasn’t unusual for him to sit with ‘someone as dear as you’ as him flirting and taking a break from the celebrations.

I did, however, recognize my mistake for what it was when Venti’s hand crept over and across the bench to where mine rested. But that was far too late for my realization, though, considering I was barely able to even look down at where his fingers toyed with mine before I was being yanked up to a standing pose.

“Venti,” Despite his behavior, I found myself chuckling out his name as he looked at me with bright eyes.

“Come on, a day like this is made for music and dancing. Not for sitting off to the side all by your lonesome,” He pulled me further away from my now-abandoned seat and closer to the dancing people.

I grinned at him, tilting my head at the flirtatious young man, “Then shouldn’t you be playing music?” 

At my words, he grinned and shook his head, bowing at the waist as he gestured off towards the side at Six-fingered José, “A gentleman such as myself knows when to let others have their moment in the spotlight.”

I snorted at his words but shook my head. Surrendering easily to the grinning young man,  “Alright, one quick dance.” 

He looked all but diabolically pleased with himself as he twirled me lightly so that I was facing him, with my back to the crowd of dancers, as he interlocked our hands, “How does the Charleston sound, my lovely lady?”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t really complain as I laughed at him, “Figures you’d like a dance as fast as that one.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, causing me to laugh as he started to sway with the music, “Is that a yes?”

I nodded in lieu of responding, only lagging slightly behind him as he started dancing before I was matching his kicking motions perfectly. Grinning despite myself as we shifted around, trading off on who leaned backwards as our feet hit the ground in time to the upbeat rhythm of the music around us.

I could hear others laughing around us, and some even started clapping, making room for us as we danced. Matching the festive atmosphere perfectly as Venti’s sparkling, laughter-filled eyes continued to hold mine.

He pulled me towards him, and I laughed as we collided before I leaned back, letting him whirl me in a rapid spin before I was lowered once more so that I was in a limbo-esque position.

He tugged me back up with a carefree laugh, twirling me so that our bodies were parallel to one another with our arms extended across each other’s backs so that our hands could stay locked together.

Our footsteps clicking against the cobblestone path melded with the applause that clapped along to the beat of the song as we continued to dance. Spinning around so that we were facing each other and trading off on which side our arms were locked as we kept up our kicklike footsteps.

I was laughing out loud right now, knowing perfectly well that I’d lost to both Venti and the festival’s atmosphere of joy. Which was precisely what  the bard had wanted.

Because that was just the way Venti was. Always pushing me to relax and join in on his playful actions, even if I was usually more likely to sit off to the side and watch others’ celebrations.

I suppose that when it came right down to it, he simply couldn’t help himself.

He spun me out as the song ended, keeping a hold of my hand as he turned and walked with me away from the crowd of dancers who kept on going without us. 

“There. One dance, as promised,” I smiled at him, half out of breath from both having laughed quite so much and the raw amount of energy I’d just exerted.

He grinned back at me, tugging a flower out of one of the bouquets that filled the streets and holding out to me as if he were a magician who’d just whisked the blossom out of thin air.

I glanced smilingly at the Cecilia bloom before accepting it, causing his smile to only widen, “And I do thank my lady.”

I laughed slightly, shaking my head fondly and sitting back down on the bench before blinking in surprise as the bard sat down next to me, “You aren’t going to rejoin the festivities?” 

I leaned towards him almost worriedly, but he only shook his head. That usual smile of his on his face as he leaned towards me as if he were mirroring my motions, “I told you, it isn’t unusual for me to want to spend time with someone as dear as you.”

I blinked at him, twirling the flower in my fingers lightly as I held his wide-eyed gaze, “It is when there’s booze to be had that you aren’t going after.”

He pressed a hand to his chest, looking at me with a faux hurt expression, “If I leave you, you won’t be protected, and someone else will come by to make you dance with them!”

I hummed in response, not believing him in the slightest but opting to stay silent as I looked back out at the crowd. A slight smile on my face as I leaned relaxedly against Venti.

After all, it wasn’t unusual for me to be pleased that he was staying with me rather than leaving.

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[nanaminsonyfans]

╚»★«╝ Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire ╚»★«╝

a/n; the lack of cyberpunk x reader fics is appalling. anyways gay kerry eurodyne for christmas ur welcome. also this is post after giving up johnny specifically the sun ending. sorry of its shitty, i rarely write as a male reader and i hope i did okay! requests are open!!!

pairing: male!reader x kerry eurodyne (cyberpunk)

warnings; anal, male oral receiving, slight exhibition?, cursing, spoilers for end of cyberpunk.

—

The Kerry Eurodyne was making a Christmas album with US Cracks, him being main vocals and the girls being background vocals. You were there as Kerry's loving boyfriend and supporter but also because you had nothing else to do. Being the famous V merc has run its course and after everything with Johnny and Arasaka....you just wanted to be you, Y/n L/n. Of course you still talked to some old friends, Claire being one of them. Truth be told....You missed Johnny. A piece of you was gone.

"Y/n? Babe? You there?" Kerry's voice brought you back. The girls were gone leaving the two of you there. "You having one of those episodes again?" He asks softly, obviously worried. "Oh, no i'm fine. Was just thinking is all. The music was pretty soothing." You joke and stood up. "Was it? Didn't want to put you to sleep." "You didn't. Just started to remind me of stuff." Kerry nods and cupped your cheek. "This past year has been hard for you. I understand." You nod and leaned against his touch. His hands were always so warm.

"I gotta finish some vocals. Go get a drink." He hums softly. You nod, leaving and came back. Kerry was singing, however his vocals sounded almost angelic as he sang The Christmas Song. "Jack nipping at your nose~" He looked at you. He looked at you with those fucking icy blue eyes that just sucked you in every single time. You know what he wants. How'd he get so horny so easily? Sentimental one second...

You stared at him, watching his movement. He swayed his hips as he practically made out with the mic. You felt your jeans tightened as you wanted him until you couldnt take anymore and went in. "You're such a little shit sometimes...." You growl slightly in his ear, griping his hips as you pulled him against your growing bulge. "Yeah...?" Kerry hums, adding more pressure against you. You let out a guttural moan in his ear as he started to grind against you.

"You keep doing that and im going to cum in these fuckin' pants." "We can't have that." He hums and gets down on his knees. "Not when i have a perfectly good face." "Oh youre fucking bad Ker..." You groan as he undid your pants, your cock springing free seconds before he wrapped his mouth around you. His tongue was so soft and warm...and fuck the way he sucked you off was like his life depended in it. He was so eager to please and it was working.

Kerry's eyes were half lidded and staring up at you as if he was trying to be innocent. His hand took over whatever he couldn't reach. Drool slipped down his chin as he continued to suck. "Oh fuck ker...." You thrusted slightly in his mouth causing him to gag but he didnt want you to stop. You continued to face fuck him until you felt yourself getting close.

"Fuck..Fuck ker-" You pulled out and came on his face exactly as he wanted. "Mm...amazing as usual." He smirks and licked the cum up and cleaned himself up. "Now bend over." "Really? Here?" "Yes here its your fault." You tell him annoyed and Kerry did so, happily stripping down to give you a show. "Oh you fucking slut." You slapped his ass as he bent over on the couch in the studio.

You didnt even bother prepping and just thrusted in which earned a high pitched mewl from him. "Oh fuck- dont stop please." He begs and pushed his hips back to match the rhythm of your thrusts. His moans were so whiny it was pitiful, the sadistic side wanted to taunt him about it but another side of you loved his noises. Only you could bring these noises out if him, only you, only your cock.

You let out a few grunts as his ass milked you, and suddenly he let out a loud moan arching his back as you hit his prostate. He loved how the head of cock hit it just right. "Fill me up y/n please, please!" Kerry begs and he started to fist himself. "No one can say no to you." You smirk and started to rail him a few more times before you came together. "Fuuuck!" You groaned as you filled his ass making him whine at the feeling as he made a mess on the couch.

"You made a mess." You tease and kissed him which he happily returned. Out of the corner of you eye you noticed a blinking red light. "Did...did it record all of that?" You ask him and kerry took notice as well. "Yeah...maybe i should put it on the bonus track."

[daydream-comet]

(WOAH looks like I missed out a bit on the chitchat cuz my notifs glitched, but damn this thread has gotten longer)

Hiromi's role in the team was like that of an anchor, the one who would yell 'what the hell, hero?' when the situation called for it. She's strict, she's stern, but she's understanding, chill, silly and soft when she needs to me. She's not easily swayed, and is brave in the face of danger. She's undoubtedly a strong female character, but she also retains her femininity while doing so (if I am going to compare her with someone, it would be Katara from ALTA). In vforce, she was a person the team wouldn't be complete without. Similar to Kyoju, she was important to the team despite not outright stepping into the stadium and fighting a beybattle.

I get that grev tried to deal with darker, more psychological topics, but it could have been pulled off by not butchering every other character we had previously seen. And its not like there was a satisfactory conclusion to those 'darker topics' that made up for its flaws. Like yes grev has its moments, I wouldn't lie. There are times where it really makes you feel and its heading somewhere. Sometimes it does pull it off, but sometimes it doesn't. And what makes it more hard to sit with is the focus on circumstances rather than characters. Not says its a bad direction, but poor characterisation and execution ruins it.

I personally haven't really watched the dub, only bits. I did grew up with the local hindi dub that followed the eng dub, but I only remember bits and pieces from it. And when I rewatched the series I watched the jp dub since it had the uncut versions of the eps. And I do agree that the characterisation, especially in case of takao, feels like he went through a factory reset and pulled an ash ketchum on us. I think both versions are good, there are some things the dub did well compared to the sub and vice versa.

Season 1 was the perfect introduction, start and base for the entire franchise. It has almost zero flaws and amazingly executed arcs. I feel like the reason why vforce was rushed was due to production problems, like the change in animation studio, some episodes looking like they had less budget. Like esp towards the end you can see that the 'important' episodes are more well made than the others. Grev without a doubt wins in terms of visuals, and I think thats one of the reasons that saves grev. Grev had an interesting scenario and storyline, ngl. The newer addition of characters were also loveable. But, as we all know by this point, the execution was flawed. Instead of trying to be its own thing like vforce, grev wanted the s1 conflict back, but while doing so it lost its own integrity in the process, like the removal of the importance and presence of sacred beasts as well? The one thing that made beyblade more unique than just a spinning top anime? Hell its like even the sacred beasts were given the same butchering treatment as the rest😭. Like I get its to prevent the characters going "I AM HERE TO STEAL YOUR SACRED BEAST" all the time but like.....there were better ways to prevent that. This is also another thing that grev does to kinda ignore v force, whose entire buildup was focused on sacred beasts, where they come from, what they really are etc. Can you really blame vforce for feeling like a filler season?

V-force Hiromi thank you for being the icon ever, being chaotic and silly (esp that punch like yas gurl throw hands!! <3) like the others while being the mom friend of the group and doing an actual good job at consoling Takao/keeping him in line while being mature about his feelings too, being a therapist to Kai and many more moments. She's basically the emotional stability the gang lacked previously. And lets not forget the boat scene in the movie when Daichi was telling Hiromi about how his dad died and why he was hell bent on beating Takao, her response was that of understanding as she got where Daichi was coming from as a kid who was trying to fullfill his father's last wish, that was very sweet of her ngl (Takao's response to Daichi's revelation was sweet too, in his own way. I might make another post on that. Personally I prefer their dynamic in the movie than in G-revolution tbh. Also the idea if the team randomly adopting a tiny homeless redheaded gremlin is wayy funnier, like "oh, he's not gonna leave us be, and he doesnt have a home to go back to, guess he's staying with us now huh. Welcome to the gang bud" *daichi proceeds to latch onto them like a leech*)

[efkgirldetective]

~part V~ { part I & part II & part III & part IV }

thank you thank you to the anon who sent in this prompt! 💗💗💗

book + cerulean + passion

“Don’t have too much fun while we’re off, yeah?”

“Never, Padfoot, we—”

“Head Girl? Can you reassure?”

“Former Head Girl, mind you—”

“Sirius, honest to Merlin, we’re so, so late, and you know how Moody gets, he’ll have our—”

“—bollocks, yeah, had the exact same and shuddering thought, dearest—”

“—amount of calling me dearest can make up for that image, fuck’s sake—Pete? We’re near—”

“I’ve been ready, Remus!” Peter exclaims, springing indignantly from his seat on the sofa. “Been sat right bloody here, reading a book while you lot argue on and on about ‘oh, do you have the coordinates, or do I?’ Honestly, could’ve read through Hogwarts a bloody History frontward and backward, already!”

James grins at the exasperated trio, puffy-coated and scarf-wrapped and leaving not thirty minutes after they ought to have left. Between his wide-leg lean at the kitchen counter, Lily calls out, “Be safe, okay?” Sirius accios his wand all the way from down the hall, quite nearly missing the tawny tuft of Peter’s hair—“And be polite!”

“Polite, Evans, honest?” James tucks into her sweet-smelling hair. “Like Moody wants politeness, not moxie or gall or some imposing four-syllable word that escapes me at the moment.”

Lily pinches the skin of his arm.

“See you for dinner, yeah?” Sirius is calling back. “Right chuffed for steak pies—”

“Black!”

“Oh, for—coming, coming!”

Peter’s aggravated scowl is the last thing they see, the babble of Remus and Sirius floating down the hall, disappearing behind the closed door.

“If we’re going to be parents,” Lily says, running her hands along James’, wrapped round her waist, “We ought to start practicing, no?”

James laughs, sweeping her hair away and leaning down to kiss her neck. He contemplates the skin, a small pair of freckles marking the place where neck and shoulder meet. He thinks of their furtive trip to the fertility clinic earlier in the day; how the charms glimmered cerulean over Lily’s stomach, her hand gripping his tightly as the Healer surveyed her vitals, told them how healthy the baby—their baby—looked, inside, just about ten weeks along and growing so well. James took it all in as if from afar; heart beating out of his body, sense of place, of home, tied so firmly to Lily’s five-fingered hold on him; how her eyes shone with nervous excitement as she looked at him from the examination table—red hair a stark contrast to such a sterilized room. She whispered, “Okay?” and squeezed his hand. He nodded, bent to kiss her forearm, unable to find words for how he felt; an overflowing of love that left him just as tethered as it left him unmoored.

In the kitchen, he tries to make sense of the paradox: how he might be sinking for all his unruly, anxious fears—and at the same time buoyant, near-weightless in pride, in joy. He bends his cheek to the freckles and blinks slowly. “You’re going to be such a good mum.”

She sighs, turns in his arms. Happy and healthy and growing. “If you let go of any absurd dream involving an infant Quidditch player,” she murmurs, hands winding up his chest and neck, “then I know you’ll make a really wonderful dad.”

Though he is unwilling and unable to let go of hope for an infant Quidditch player, he makes no mention—he leans forward and kisses her cleanly, slowly, letting the overflow transmute into tenderness, deliberate and ebbing; Lily responds in kind, threading his hair through her fingers, some soft urgency sounding in the back of her throat. Her body melts closer, thin pink cardigan letting him know just how little she’s wearing beneath—and is unsurprised, given the turmoil surging inside, that need floats so easily to the top; skimmed out of overwhelming affection, of the delicate knowing that their bodies, together, created.

And the idea of when that might have been—when it happened, in any of the jumbled and run-together instances of love, of impatience, of time-taken and stolen and stretched out and yearned for—eats at James, digs at him—merges with the feeling of limbs lethargic on his, her lips moving from chin to jaw to neck and loitering, heatedly, on his throat. “When—” he begins, short on breath, hands moving up her back, under the thin fabric, finding the warm skin of her back—“when do you think it happened?”

Lily hums into his neck, nipping gently. “When what happened?”

He laughs, ruefully, fingers pressing into the curve of her hips. Closes his eyes to her hair. “Er, the conception.”

“The conception?” Lily emerges from his neck, laughing, too, lips pulled apart in mirth. “What, we're religious, now?”

“Well, it’s the technical term, Lils—would you rather I call it procreation?”

Lily groans, “Oh no, that’s far worse—so detached and impersonal,” she steals a long and wandering kiss. “Hardly what I feel when you’re inside of me, moving.”

"Oh, fucking hell—" James kisses her, can’t help it—and again, and again. “Really, though, semantics aside—” he moans, and she kisses him again, still laughing—“I want to know when you think it happened, is all.”

Leaning back from him, and really looking at him clearly, Lily lets her smile fall into something smaller; something like a smirk. “Alright, well,” she exhales, thinking, hands falling from his hair down his shoulders—and slowly, slowly, down his arms, pausing at the sleeves of his shirt. “It had to have been two months ago, or so,” she muses, eyes meandering from their lean to the expanse of kitchen counter behind them, the oven and the hob. “Maybe, it was just there, over the...” her eyes turn back to him, aglimmer.

James swallows deliberately, tilts his chin upward; takes a short moment to compose himself. It hardly works. “Evans,” he articulates, slowly. She laughs, fingers slipping, rounding his biceps; an insufferable squeeze, and stroking.

“I imagine an act of such passion could surely lead to conception,” she stands on tiptoes, finds his ear, nips at the lobe, “don’t you agree?”

For this he has only one long, breathless moan—the memory of a night without housemates, a shared bottle of wine; her breath so soft and wanting as they necked in the kitchen, necking that turned— near instantly—into a clamor of hands under and tugging at clothes, lips on necks, whimpers and gasping and an oh, Merlin, please as he sunk to his knees and fixed his tongue between her legs— which led, inevitably, to a growing plea for more and more now; to her impatient keening as he grappled with her skirt and knickers, his own pants barely pushed aside before he pressed inside, hard and leaking, half-gone and humbled at her neck, her shoulder—her sweet gasping James what took him clear over the edge, right there in the kitchen, adjacent the hob; her hips tight in his hands, legs shaking madly under his.

And in the same kitchen her mouth connects to his softening breath, drinking it down, knowing. “Or,” she continues, “perhaps that time in the en suite, when not five minutes in you—”

“Jesus fuck,” James interrupts, voice high and reedy—a sound that changes, and breaks, as Lily swivels her hips over his—“Hadn’t seen you for three days, you can’t just—it was—”

“I wasn’t complaining, though, was I, love?” she laughs into his mouth. “Especially not when you said such nice things with your tongue, afterward.”

"That made up for it?"

"More than made up for it, darling."

He smiles, quietly, and slips his hands down the warmth of her back, round her thighs, and lifts, jostling her into his arms. Lily tightens her grip on him, presses a kiss to his neck. “Could’ve been any one of the times you’ve fucked me senseless into our bed,” she muses. “Oh, excuse me—our premarital bed.”

“Thank you,” James says, “for acknowledging our unwed sin.”

Their bodies sway forward as he pushes up off the counter and staggers, indiscriminately, toward the bedroom, urged on by her burgeoning moan. “You know, I—” he tries, fixing her weight against a doorframe, finding it near impossible to speak around her suddenly desperate kiss, the sparring of tongues—“I just think—”

“—do tell me what you think—”

“—that talking about this was a shit idea.”

“Shit idea? No, really?”

“Really,” James repeats, short on breath and having stumbled from the door right into their bedroom, replete with purported sin. “Because all this talk of conception has me thinking—”

“All this thinking,” Lily whines into his ear, tongue swirling, dangerous. “You’ll hurt yourself, Potter.”

James lays her down on the bed, laughing; hair scattering and soft, cardigan pulled taut at the buttons, a flush of red spreading down her neck. She bites her lip as he leans back, looks at her.

“Thinking of...?” she prompts, fingers fall down his forearms, stroking.

“Of everything that leads up to conception,” he clarifies, swallowing, dipping his face into the swells of her breasts, nuzzling; lifting her sweater up enough to find her belly. His touch slows, gentle as it traces down the skin, as his mouth bends to kiss, slowly, like she is some delicate thing. He turns his face, lets his cheek rest against the center. Closes his eyes. “Hi, baby.”

Lily clambers onto elbows and reaches a hand through his hair. “Baby says hi back.”

James lifts his head. “Oh, you can hear the baby?”

“Yes,” she says, fingers moving across his brow, down his cheek, feeling the indent of his grin. “We’ve a telepathic connection.”

“And what’re they saying, now?”

“Mmm,” she hums. “Saying it’s alright if mum and dad want a bit of a shag, they’ll close their eyes.”

His laughter precedes his body, coming over her, weight shifting down. Her hands latched to the exposed skin of his neck. A gentle kiss between. Pulling and yearning, like yarn. The center, a knot, growing stronger.

Lily weaves her legs around his waist. Breaks gently from his mouth. “When do you think it happened?”

The question is considered, serious and slow, in the nape of her neck; in the pink plane of her cheek; in a blinking, unbroken stare. James lets the world settle down into the space of the bed and their bodies. Answers, eventually, with a tensed forehead, a hand gentle along her thigh. “If this came to be...because of an intention to love you as much and as long as I can,” he murmurs, “then it could’ve been any one of those times.”

She exhales, and he takes the same air as his breath.

He dips toward her mouth, quietly. “Any time at all.”

Lily makes a small sound, pulls down his lips—and of course he can feel their love growing, still, even in the quiet of the room. If he is to drown and float, all at once, then let it be like this; in warm and gentle waters, fixed to the tide of their hearts.

[codenamewitcher]

Wicked Games

This oneshot is based off the song “Wicked Games” by The Weeknd and it is recommended to listen to it while reading!

Summary: The Mandalorian and the Reader have a long standing game to see who breaks first.

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: smut, language, nudity, blindfold usage, dirty talk/slight downgrading name usage, teasing, dry humping, rough sex, choking, p in v sex, unprotected sex (please use protection!!), creampie, slight cockwarming, pain kink, kinda OCC!Din, its implied that the reader is a sex worker, and dom/sub undertones. 

There isn’t Y/n usage in this, this hasn’t been proof read, and there is no spoilers in this.

A/N: I had I had planned on releasing this, this weekend and almost didn’t because S2E6 was brutal af and I just wanted fluff but @stars-trash-18​ convinced me other wise. So here it, probably the filthiest things I’ve written. 

Red.

It was the color of anger, hatred, revenge, and danger, but also love, power, confidence, passion, lust, and sin. Red was one of my favorites for this reason.

It was the color of the silk and sheer dress I wore.

It was also the color of the room the Mandalorian and I were in.

“It’s been awhile.” I purred, bending my knee and placing my heel against the door behind me. Skin peaked out of the dress’s slit, but not enough to show leg, just enough to tease.

“I’ve been busy.” He rasped, leaning back into the couch cushions, arms spread out across the sofa top, legs opened wide for me to step in between. For anyone else, he may look relaxed, but I knew he was waiting for me to pounce.

I hummed and pushed off the door I was leaned up against. I didn’t step that much closer to him, keeping the room’s stage between the two of us. I wasn’t going to give into him that easily.

It was silent between us, both of us waiting to see who’d break first. I crocked my head to the side, studying the way the red lights shimmered on the shiny reflection of the beskar helmet he wore.

I held my gaze at his vizor as I slowly climbed the stage, heels clicking on the polished wood.

It was a game that we played, seeing who would break first from my teasing or his lack of response to it. I’d won 27 times; he’d won 14 times.

I began swaying my hips as I stepped in front of him, his helmet following my movements. My hands started following the curves of my body. They started at my thighs and traveled up my hips, waist, and chest. Fingers slid across the exposed skin of chest from the dress’s deep v-cut. They danced from my collarbones down the valley of my breast and stopping at the red leather belt holding the dress in place. They skimmed the silver buckle as I slowly unbuckled the belt.

The movements were always slow, deliberate, and sensual to push the right buttons.

The belt fell to the floor with a soft clatter, the dress opened to reveal my abdomen, the lacy red underwear that hugged my hips, legs, and the garter on my right thigh that held a small blaster pistol. The dress opened up enough to show just that as the material on my shoulders kept my shoulders covered.

A growl escaped from beneath his helmet while my fingers brushed the skin on my hips and abdomen.

Satisfied with his reaction, I turned around to go to the pole at the stage center, but his hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me in my tracks. A smirk found its way on my painted red lips.

I won.

He placed his hand at my hip, spinning me around so that my body pressed up against the cold beskar that covered his. Goosebumps prickled all over my skin while my nipples puckered from the contract of my body heat and the cold metal. A puddle of arousal began to form between my legs.

He pulled me down from the stage as he stepped down and continued to do so by pulling me into his lap once he seated himself, my legs straddling his. While I sat in his lap, his hands found their place at my ass and used it to pull my body closer to his where my core hovered over his erection. I couldn’t help the moan that escaped my lips from the feel of him and the lace rubbing up against my clit.

His right hand left my ass, his thumb dragging along my jaw only to stop so he could lay his index finger on my bottom lip. I opened my mouth up to take the tip of his glove between my teeth. The taste of salt, blaster residue, and leather flooded the taste buds in my mouth when the tip of my tongue brushed up against it while I leaned my head back to slide the glove off his hand.

Once the glove was off, I let it fall from my teeth to land between us on his lap. The calluses on his fingers scratched across my skin as he traced my collarbone and onto my shoulder, pushing the left side of my dress down in the process, exposing my breast.

I placed my hands on his shoulders for leverage as I began rolling my hips down on his while his hand fell to cup my breast. I threw my head back as a gasp left my lips when he took my nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed while he bucked his hips up into mine.

If the boner he had wasn’t enough of an indicator that I was affecting his like he was me, the heavy breathing coming out from his modulator was.

His other hand left my ass and dug in his pocket until he found what he was looking for.

“Put it on.” He demanded. I looked down to find a black strip of cloth resting in his opened palm. I looked back up at his vizor of his helmet as I moved my hands from his shoulders and picked the blindfold up out of his hand. My eyes stayed on him up until the cloth covered my vision.

When this first started between us, I hated the blindfold. Putting it on meant that I had to give up control and had to have complete trust in him, it was something that took years for me to get to, so instead we used to settle for no lights or him not even removing the helmet.

My hands fell in my lap after I tied the blindfold around my head, waiting.

I heard the hiss of his helmet from coming off and not long after two bare and calloused hands wondered my body. His lips brushed over mine while his hands stopped at my hips, forcing them to roll against his faster and harder.

A whimper left my lips, my forehead knocking into his as my body tried to curl in on itself from the intense pressure on my clit from the lace and his clothed dick. His pants mingled with mine, my hands grabbing onto and squeezing the muscles above the crock of his elbow and below his pauldron., looking for some form of release while the coil in my pelvis started to tighten.

He used his nose to nudge at my chin, exposing my neck to him. I jumped as he dived right in for the kill, his teeth nipping at the skin. All I could think about was the pain from his teeth shooting down to my core and the abuse that was being delivered to my clit with the rough rubbing of fabric and his cock against it. After trailing down my neck, his teeth tugged on my earlobe and didn’t stop until the skin escaped his grasp, a small yelp left my lips from the pinch his teeth gave.

“You’re so fucking wet you’re soaking though my clothes.” He whispered in my ear. I hadn’t even noticed as I was too consumed by the pain and pleasure but now that my attention was brought to it, I’d definitely soaked my underwear. A smirk spread across my lips as I thought about it.

“What are you going to do about it?” I gasped out as one of his hands traveled underneath my dress and up the skin of my spine in feather light touches while the other squeezed my hip hard enough to burse. My toes started to curl into my heels as he started dragging nails across my skin.

“You’ll find out soon enough but,” He stopped and captured my bottom lip between his teeth, doing the same thing he did to my earlobe but soft enough not to make my lip bleed. “You’re doing to cum for me first, understood?”

I nodded my head, not trusting my voice. It seemed like he didn’t like that though as his hands stopped my hips from rolling and his own stilling themselves. I hated the whimper that escaped.

“Use your words.” I really fucking hated him sometimes.

“Y-yes, I understand.”

“Good girl.” He started back up on pushing my hips down against his, but he didn’t build back up to his previous pace. Instead he went right back to it immediately, it nearly sent me over that edge just teetering at it. No, what sent me over it and caused sparks to appear in my vision and ringing in my ears was when a hand slipped beneath the lace and delivered a harsh pinch to my clit.

My body smashed right into his as I could no longer hold myself up while waves of euphoria crashed over me, my cunt fluttering over nothing, and a mixture of moans and whimpers leaving my lips

He held me in his arms while he waited for me to calm down, it was one of the small mercies I was thankful for, the other being the coldness of his beskar that helped cool my burning skin.

It was rarely soft between us. It was a competition, a game that we played to not only see who couldn’t resist the other – a game I was winning in – and to see who could ruin the other, who could reduce the other into a mess of tears and moans. That was the game that he excelled in as I’ve only won five times. I blamed the blindfold for that as the lack of sight heightened everything. Then there was also the matter that he didn’t like to give up control, I only managed to take it those five times.

My thoughts were cut short by his hands slowly slipping my dress off from my arms, shivers racking through my body from the cold air hitting my sweaty back once the dress fell away. My body curled further into his trying to find warmth for my back. His arms wrapped back around me, shushes falling from his lips as he did so.

Eventually I caught my breath and he continued to hold me to his body as he lifted me up while he stood. My heart rate sped up from the sudden movement and my arms wrapped around his neck and legs around his waist to make sure I didn’t fall out of his grasp. My back hit soft, plush cushions as he laid me down, hands unwrapping my arms and legs from around his body.

I knew he was undressing by the soft clatter of metal against wood, but stars I hated laying here, waiting, not seeing. However, I controlled myself enough not to visibly show my frustration knowing that the asshole he could be would take longer with undressing himself.

I heard a chuckle come from above me and felt bare skin touch my own. His fingers hooked around the elastic of my underwear, slowly pulling my underwear down my legs. My hand hits a cushion and a gasp slips from my lips as the cold air hit my soaking pussy.

Lips drag their way up my leg, the cushion sinking every time his hand hit the cushion while he climbed his way up my body. I couldn’t help my body jerking from the light touches of his lips and the slight scratch from the stubble that covered his jaw. He used his hands to spread my legs apart as his lips got closer and closer to my core.

My breathing speed up and so did my heartbeat in anticipation for the events that were about to come. I could feel the smirk on his lips, he knew what he was doing to me with the teasing.

Without warning, his tongue is licking a strip up through my folds. My hand shot down to his hair, tangling itself in his soft curls. His lips wrapped around my clit and sucked, my back arched off the couch, moans slipping from my lips. The sensation was a mixture of pain and pleasure from the abuse it received earlier and the only thing grounding me was the hand tangled in his hair.

My back only hit the cushions once again when he stopped sucking on my clit for his lips to trail kisses up my body until he reached my own lips.

“You taste so sweet, don’t you baby?” He whispered after placing a kiss on my lips. My tongue darted out over my lip tasting a hint of the sweetness and saltiness of my arousal, I hummed.

“You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” His nose pushed against my cheek while I felt his hard on poke at my thigh as he started to situate himself between my legs.

I gave him another hum while a smirk slipped on my lips. “And what does that make you if I’m the dirty little slut?”

I probably shouldn’t have said that, but I couldn’t stand letting him have full control, I had to play with him, I had to be a brat as he liked to call it. Even if I was going to pay for it and I knew I was the moment his hand wrapped around my throat.

“You really don’t want to know the answer to that.” He growled in my ear, his dick prodding at my entrance. His grip on my neck slowly tightened and once it tightened just enough to make me dizzy, his slowly pushed his dick in, making me gasp out for air as he did so.

He loosened his grip on my throat and a deep moan coming out of his as he continued to push in, stuffing and stretching me out all at the same time. It burned slightly as I hadn’t been fucked since he was last here, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the stretch.

His body hoovered over me, an arm bracing against the cushion above my head to hold himself up while his head fell in the crock of my neck, pants of air leaving his lips and onto my shoulder from him bottoming out and my walls fluttering around his cock.

“You’re so fucking tight, mesh’la.” He rasped, his hand flexing around my neck for emphasis while my hands run along his arms and over the scars there in search of his shoulders, wanting something to grip onto.

“Din,” I whispered, turning my head towards his. “Fuck me, please.”

A growl rumbles from his chest against mine and in my ear as it leaves his lips. I feel him move him move where he’s able to fuck me better and my hands slip from his shoulders to his chest as his sits up, his hand still at my throat though but the other is now at my hip.

He slowly starts to pull out and slams his hips back against mine, the only thing keeping my body in push from the force being the hand at my hip and the other at my neck. He sets a bruising pace, moans falling from both of our lips from the rolling of our hips.

The hand at my neck starts to tighten a little bit and the one at my hip moved, following the line for my hip down to my clit where he starts to rub slow circles with his thumb. I push my head back further into the couch cushion and drag my nails down his chest, overstimulation starting to take its hold on me, blood felt like it was rushing everywhere beneath my skin as my orgasm started to build up yet again.

The hand at my throat gave one more squeeze before moving and I felt the dip in the cushion as he placed his hand next to my head. I felt him lean down to hover over my body yet again, but his hips never relented in their pace as he did so. A kiss was placed in the valley of my breast before he moved up to capture my lips in his. His tongue slipped in my mouth and easily took over dominance seeing as I didn’t even put up much of a fight.

My hands slipped back up to his shoulders squeezing them and then moving to run across the muscles along his shoulders in the process of my arms wrapping around his neck to bring his body closer to mine.

His thumb rubbing circles on my clit started to speed up and he broke the kiss only to trail his lips down my neck. My back arched up causing my chest to press into his at the increase in pressure.

“I’m really fucking close Din.” I gasped out, throat sore from my moans and him choking me earlier.

“I know you are, baby.” His lips brushed along the shell of my ear, his stubble slightly scrapping against my jaw as he did so. “I am too.”

I pressed my forehead into his shoulder as he sped up the pace a little bit, trying to chase our release. He increased the pressure on my clit and pushed me over the edge in the process. I bit down on his shoulder to muffle the loud moan of his name that was more on the borderline of becoming a scream while my body trembled beneath him.

His orgasm followed right after mine, my walls squeezing around him while his cum coated them. His body collapsed on top of me, monas of my name filling my ears, but he still managed not to crush me under his weight. I continued to hold onto him while aftershocks run through my body, he ended up sliding the arm that was between us underneath my back, pulling me even closer to his body.

Nothing was said between as we laid there catching our breath, my fingers twirling the hairs at the base of his neck and his thumb rubbing at my waist while he continued to hold onto me.

It was in these softer moments that I sometimes wished there was more to our relationship than fucking. We did have something more than just fucking as over the years trust was built between us. With him trusting me enough to take his helmet off and me not to peak out of the blindfold, me trusting him enough to put the blindfold on me and give up control, and finally him trusting me enough with his name I knew there was something else there besides fucking.

But we were both shit with communication, plus he was busy running around the galaxy chasing after bounties while I was here running the business. So, we only got to see each other when he had the time and was nearby, sometimes there was only a few weeks in between seeing each other, and other times it was months.

I slid my legs down from around his waist down to his legs. It was getting harder for me to keep my eyes open as I felt safe and warm in his arms, I was worn out, and the feeling of being filled was nice.

“I’m falling asleep.” I whispered into his shoulder, he let out a large sigh.

“I am too, but we need to move.” He whispered, starting to pull away from me. I groaned.

I instantly shivered when he pulled away from me and slipped out, getting up off the couch. I held out a hand, hoping that he would help me sit up as I was too exhausted to do myself.

His hand engulfed mine when he wrapped it around mine and pulled me up. I was a little dizzy from the sudden and quick movement and still not being able to see anything. It wasn’t long either when I heard the soft rustling of clothes being picked up.

I sat and waited, my head leaning against the sofa top cushions trying to stay awake. Then I felt his hands on my legs, lifting them slightly, lace brushing up against my skin as he put my underwear around my ankles and pulled them up my legs and around hips once I lifted them.

He then grabbed my hand, pulling me up so that I was standing, and held onto me while I regained my balance. It was really a pain being pulled to stand up in heels while also not being able to see.

I keep my hands on his shoulders, the fabric of his long sleeve stretching while he leaned down and picked something up from the ground. I guessed it to be my dress as I felt the silky fabric brush across my shoulders while he helped me to slip it back on.

Once my dress was one and it’s belt secured around my waist, Din placed a kiss on my lips and then stepped away from me momentarily. A click filled the silent room and then his hand was at the knot of my blindfold, pulling at it and the fabric fell away.

The room’s red lights filled my vision and after blinking the bleariness away a few times, the room and the Mandalorian standing before me came into focus.

He wasn’t in any of his armor yet, just in the black long sleeve shirt, black pants, and the boots that he wore, his helmet covering his face. I helped him strap his armor back onto his body in return for helping me get dressed.

It continued to stay silent between us as we completed the process of putting his armor on. It stayed like that all away from me unlocking the door to the room and him walking me home even with me ungracefully stumbling from exhaustion.

Once we reached my front door, we stopped and stared at each other for a bit, until a finally broke the silence by asking a risky question.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” I leaned against my front door, watching for his reaction.

“If I do, I’ll have to leave in the morning.” I sighed, shifting his feet.

“I know,” I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to protect the exposed and bruised skin from the night chill. “It’s only for tonight.”

“Okay,” He nodded his head and watched as I turned around and unlocked the door. He shut and locked the door behind himself after following me in, this wasn’t the first time he’d been in my house, and I hoped that it wouldn’t be the last.

I headed straight for my room letting the dress and belt fall to the floor and kicking my shoes off once I got in there and to my closet where I pulled a big shirt out and slipped it over my head. I heard Din’s armor fall to the floor as he took it, only leaving him shirt, underwear, and helmet on. I quickly changed into a more comfortable pair of underwear, not really caring that they were going to have cum stains on them in the morning.

I crawled into bed, cuddling into Din’s side while exhaustion drugged my body down. I laid my head down on his chest while he pulled the covers up and an arm around my shoulders.

“Goodnight, Din.” I whispered as my eyes started to grow heavy once again.

“Goodnight cyar’ika.” He whispered back just in time before sleep pulled me in its depths.

When I woke the next day, the bed was empty, and he was gone like promised.

A/N: I do have a Masterlist (link is in my bio) but I’m not linking it seeing as Tumblr has yet to fix the tagging system when links are added.

Thank you for taking the time to read this!

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Warnings: unprotected sex (m/f), adultery, divorce, a little fluff, a little angst

Plain Gold Ring Part III

For All We Know

“For all we know

We may never meet again

Before we go

Make this moment live again

We won't say goodbye

Until the last minute

I'll hold out my hand

And my heart will be in it” -Nina Simone

———————————————————

One month. One month before you moved to Chicago. One month until you start your new life. One month for Andy Barber to convince you that you belong together.

The night you retuned was a whirlwind of emotions. In the four days you were gone Andy had moved out and filed for divorce. You didn’t know what happened in that house and you didn’t dare ask. All Andy offered was, “She doesn’t know about you.” That gave you little solace. Made you feel no less guilty. And yet, here he was in your apartment.

He knew her routine and promised they wouldn’t cross paths. Though, it wouldn’t be unheard of if he was at your place considering the mountain of work you had to clear. He could explain it away.

You said no physical contact but you couldn’t help stroking the dented skin on his left ring finger. The little void of lighter skin a spectral reminder of his former life. That was the only conscious touching you did that night.

You kept the conversation light. You spoke about the new firm with an excitement in your voice that even shocked you. He agreed your offer was far too good to pass up. He had been to Chicago a couple of times. It was bitterly cold there for far too long. Though, if all of this worked out, he would just have to get used to it.

It was getting late. Neither of you wanted to say goodbye. “Can I stay the night?” he whispered.

He had no malicious intent whatsoever. He just wanted to be next to you. Your stupid brain was now deferring all decision making to your heart. That bitch was more easily swayed than your pussy. Of course you said yes.

He wanted so badly to hold you against his body and drown in your warmth but he promised. He stayed as far away from you on the bed as possible. In the night, out of habit, your body had made its way to the middle of your California king. And, purely out of habit, Andy draped an arm over your side.

——————————————————————

You let Andy sleep in the next morning. You went to the gym, showered and made breakfast. When he found you in the kitchen he was freshly showered and wearing some well loved pajama pants. The no touching rule did not apply to morning in the kitchen.

He padded in on bare feet unintentionally sneaking up on you. When he kissed the back of your neck you jumped.

“Did I scare you?” he chuckled.

“I’m not used to having someone here.”

He poured himself a cup of coffee and refilled your cup. “I’ll make more noise next time.”

“Did you sleep ok?”

“Very well. Thank you.” Neither of you mentioned that you wound up tangled around each other.

You got out your laptop and set yourself up on the dining table. You tapped away while Andy read the paper. He eyed you suspiciously over a folded corner. “What are you doing over there?

“Working. Between you and Stan I have about 500 emails in my inbox.”

“It’s Saturday.” he said in disbelief. “Who works on a Saturday?”

“A single girl who lives alone and doesn’t participate in home improvement couples projects. Be honest. How many Saturdays have you and Lori spent in Home Depot?”

He really though about it and laughed to himself, “Too many.”

“Fucking suburban breeders.”

“Suburban breeders. Wow.” He continued to read the paper feigning outrage. “We don’t have to go to Home Depot but I would like to do something nice with you today. Although, I did see a few lightbulbs that needed to be changed.”

“That’s what the super is for. I don’t even own a ladder and I’m not about to buy one. Why don’t you find us a movie? It’ll be like a date.”

Andy’s heart fluttered. He hadn’t been on a date in sixteen years. He wanted to get it just right. While you toiled away he planned your evening.

First, he would make you dinner. Keep it simple and light to make way for popcorn and candy. An art house cinema was playing “Anatomy of a Murder” on actual film. It’s arguably one of the best written courtroom dramas ever. After the movie there was a little coffee shop within walking distance. Then, he hoped, it would be back to his new place. He thought if you were at his place and not in your building that it would take your mind off of Lori and Jacob.

It actually warmed his heart that you cared so much for their feelings. He couldn’t help but think you would make a great stepmom for Jacob. He was getting ahead of himself. But it didn’t hurt to daydream.

Andy tried his hardest to be lazy for the day but he was crap at it. He had to occupy himself. He offered you a hand which you readily accepted. It was such a shame you were leaving the firm. The two of you worked so well together. Given your circumstances he would have encouraged you to tender your resignation immediately after being passed over.

While Andy was getting dinner together you popped off to get changed. So far he had only seen you in workout gear and work attire. It would be nice to be a little bit more casual.

When you appeared in the kitchen he let out a sharp whistle in appreciation. “You look beautiful. Since we are on a date is the touching ban still in effect?”

You kissed him tenderly on the lips, “I think we can make an exception.”

“Well in that case…” He placed his hands on either side of your face and gave you a deep panty ruining kiss. “I’ve been wanting to do that for days now.”

You gripped the edge of the counter to catch your breath. “Something smells good.”

His whole face lit up when he told you about the salmon he made. He dipped the tip of his finger in the glaze and held it to your lips. You slowly sucked at the very tip of his finger. “Yum” you said looking up at him through your lashes.

“If you keep that up, baby, we won’t leave this apartment.”

You gave him your most innocent smile, “Sorry, boss. I’ll be a good girl.”

“Fuck. Save that for later. Speaking of later, I thought we could go to my condo tonight. It’s closer to the theater and I’d like to show it to you.”

“Big ol’ thumbs up for me. I’m famished.”

Your date went incredibly well. How could it not? You two were already idiots for each other. You talked for hours and about everything that night. No topic was off limits. You really had a lot in common. You both got into law for similar reasons. Though, you had more altruistic intentions like joining the ACLU as part of their legal team. Now you work for a firm who represents massive corporations. You weren’t proud of the turn you took. That was another reason the Chicago firm was such a great fit for you. They did a little bit of everything but, you would be going after these big corporations instead. He loved your unbridled enthusiasm for your work.

After all the wine was gone and the conversation died the two of you were cuddled on the couch. He rubbed his hands up your arms and massaged your shoulders, “Are you falling asleep on me?” he asked against your ear.

“No. Just relaxed.” He deepened his touch bringing his hands to your décolleté skimming the top swell of your breasts. His hand dipped into the v of your tshirt to make contact with your skin.

“Is this ok?” Lord he’s perfect.

“I declare the no touching ban officially lifted.”

He waisted no time taking full advantage. He massaged your breast under your shirt teasing you over your bra. His other hand held your face to his while he kissed you. You let out a soft moan to which he responded in kind. You turned around to straddle him. He ground his cock into your denim covered cunt to relieve the ache. You went slow savoring the weight of his body. The scruff of his beard. The rough callused fingers that seemed to be everywhere. With Andy, kissing was your favorite thing. The act made your insides liquid and warm.

He broke away to lift your shirt over your head. He sucked your nipple through the thin material of your bra. Your breath hitched in your throat. You ran your fingers through his hair grasping it hard. He undid the fly of your jeans and slipped his hand in. Your juices ran over his fingers while he fucked into you. You met your peak and cried out when you tumbled over the edge.

When he released you, you stood up and undressed. You pulled his shirt over his head. He kissed your belly while you shimmied out of your panties. He kicked off his pants and lowered you onto his dick. The stretch nearly toppled you over but you held on. You pressed your clit into his pelvic bone and he fucked into you hard. He could feel you were close. Your pussy fluttered around him bringing him close to his end. “You ready, baby?” You answered with a whimper. “Cum with me.” With a few final thrusts you both exploded.

There was an imperceptible shift in you that night. You were ready to meet Andy where he was. For the next few weeks, you were going to be his. Entirely and completely his in every conceivable way.

——————————————————————

You didn’t say no when he asked you to spend the night. You spent a lot of nights there. So many that he gently suggested moving in with him until it was time to ship out. His reasons were entirely practical. You were over staying your lease which meant you were paying more a month in rent. Your big stuff and winter clothes were packed and in storage. You were basically down to your bed and a few other essentials. At least you could put everything in storage to make it easier for the moving company. So you guessed now you were living together.

You wished it bothered you more but honestly he was a delightful roommate. He was clean. He cooked. You both had an annoying habit of bringing work home with you. At least you were doing it together. And, it goes without saying, you fucked like horny teenagers. You were adventurous and that thrilled him to his very core.

He had a large terrace looking over the city. That was officially your favorite spot. You were sure your neighbors heard you.

——————————————————————

You only had a week left. You successfully handed off your entire case load. Andy took a few days off to help you get settled in Chicago. You tendered your resignation the week prior.

Stan tried and failed to hold onto you. You let him know your mind was set. The only thing left on your work calendar was the charity event the firm held annually. You were on the board this year. Problem was, no one could know about you and Andy. You had to go alone. Andy was bringing Lori.

Your heart gave up her post as she was no longer emotionally equipped to handle decision making. Your brain was petty as fuck. You gave Andy the silent treatment for a whole day. He had no idea you weren’t speaking until he asked you a third time what you wanted for dinner.

“Y/n, I’m speaking to you. Do you want Thai tonight?” Nothing. You sulked around the kitchen never making eye contact. “I’m sorry are you mad at me?” He grabbed your wrist and forced you to face him. “Being a brat isn’t going to fix this. Look at me and use your words like a big girl.”

“Don’t treat me like a child.” Your voice was low and emotionless. You planted your feet and stared him down.

“Then don’t act like a child. Talk to me.” He smoothed the hair out of your face and rested his hands on your shoulders. “Please. We only have a few more days together. I don’t want to spend them fighting.”

You took a deep breath and blew it out. You didn’t trust yourself not to cry so you just let loose. “If I quit already, why can’t we go together? Further more, if you filed for divorce, why are you taking Lori? Also, you didn’t talk to me. You told me. End of story.”

“I still work there. I don’t want anyone to think you quit because of me. I didn’t tell anyone that Lori and I have split. She agreed to go while you were still in Chicago. I apologize for not talking to you about all of this. I honestly didn’t know how you would react. I wanted our last week together to be happy. I won’t see you for a while. It’s just one night. You can have me forever if you want.”

You softened a little, “But we’ll be all dressed up and dancing and stuff. I know this seems ridiculous but I don’t want to watch you dance with someone else even if, technically, she is your wife.” You pouted a little. He kissed your bottom lip and pulled you into his arms.

“You wanna dance with me, baby? Let’s dance. Alexa…play my Y/N playlist.” The speaker sprang to life filling the air with a sweeping piano and Nina Simone’s velvety voice. You swayed to the music while Andy sang softly in your ear “…..So baby love me, love me tonight……”

You stared up at him, tears shimmering in your eyes, “I’m sorry I was a bitch. I guess I’m a little on edge.”

“Don’t apologize. I’d be offended if you weren’t a little jealous. I’m on edge too. Every time I think about being here alone I can’t breathe.”

“So come with me.” It’s not that the thought hasn’t crossed his mind. He didn’t want to be that far away from Jacob. He just started this job. You both knew it was a ridiculous request.

“Give me some time.” You spent the rest of the night swaying in each other’s arms. Fucking hell. You fell in love.

[breadoffoxy]

Magic Hands

Summary: Two of your best friends come over for game night, but mother nature has other plans in mind. Being a woman sucks, but your friends offer you their talented hands to help you feel better.

Pairing: Jimin x f. Reader x Taehyung 

Genre: Smut, NSFW

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, threesome, sexy sandwich, pre-period symptoms, sexy massage, language, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), kissing (fxm and mxm), overstimulation kink, begging kink, hinting at Taehyung having a foot kink but there is no actual foot action, I’m sorry Taehyung is just so kinky in this, Princess pet-name, lots of breast action, maybe something considered food play and cum play, dom Jimin and Taehyung (slightly switches towards each other).

Word Count: 4,242

A/N: This is completely self-indulgent and it wrecked me writing it. Thanks grammar god @rougebangtan​ so much for beta reading this! I appreciate your help so much. I’ve learned so much from your feedback, and you’ve really helped strengthen my writing. Thanks friends in the ghostie discord who helped inspire me and hype me up to write this. I appreciate all of yall!

-> next

It was almost that time of the month.

The one that you felt served no purpose except to biologically torture you.

Yes, that time of the month. You absolutely hated it.

Despite the extra pillows you added, the chair was doing no favors for your aching back. You groan as you shift in your desk chair, leaning forward to better massage the lower muscles causing you pain, and your breast brush against the table in front of you. The groan deepens as your oversensitive mounds press lightly against the hard surface.

You’d think you’d have your period down by now as an adult, but no, your body loved to keep throwing curve balls at you. For the last few months, the pre-period symptoms have been worse for you than the period itself. The week before your period, you would suffer from lower back pain, which at first had worried you, but you figured out, it was a normal part of PMS.  

Your breasts also suffered more now than they used to, as well. They would easily become oversensitive, with your nipples always erect, and trying to poke through the clothing you wore over them. It doesn’t help that your breasts were stuffed into your tight-fitting bra. The mounds swelled in size, increasing in both firmness and tenderness, despite all logic.  At this point, you worried you may have to go shopping for a new bra size exclusively because of those symptoms.

Oh god, all the extra hormones made you always horny too. Not that you weren’t normally, but now you were extra horny all the time. The sound of your phone vibrating angrily on your desk makes you stop your weak ministrations to check the message.

     Jimin: y/n, we’re here!

     Jimin: Why aren’t you answering the door!

     Jimin: Let us in!

You see the three dots bouncing at the bottom of the screen, meaning Jimin is adding more messages to your chat. The man was always impatient and desiring attention.

     You: I’m coming!

After standing up, you put your arms up above your head in order to give your back a good stretch before you make your way out of your room, and towards your door with quick steps. You swing the door open to see your two friends, who you had invited over for, which had now turned into, a poorly timed game night. You kind of wanted to ditch and just make a nest in your bed, but you’d feel bad canceling on your friends.  

Jimin is leaning against the wall next to your door. Phone in his hands, he looks up excitedly when you open the door. He does his little habit of running his hand through his blonde hair, and his long earrings sway at the motion. Jimin is dressed smartly in his black shirt with a deep V-neck, with a necklace falling slightly below his exposed collarbones. Despite his shorter stature, compared to your other guy friends, his legs look endlessly long in those black jeans and a black belt wraps around his thin waist.  

Taehyung, the other friend invited to game night, had his head tilted back to look at the sky as he waited for you to open the door, his Adam’s apple prominently displayed. He sported a peaceful expression as he glanced at you. His light caramel hair peeked out from his red snapback. His lithe form was hidden underneath a large cozy white shirt and dark pants while a combination of studs and rings lined the lower part of his ears. Two large plastic bags could also be seen hanging from his hands by his side.

“Finally.” Jimin huffs at you despite a smile being on his lips.

He pulls you into a hug which you gladly accept. You turn your head to make a face at Taehyung behind Jimin’s back, trying to distract yourself from the sensation of your chest smushed up into Jimin’s. The tall man laughs at the both of your antics. "I'm going to set this inside.” Taehyung holds up the bags when you try to peek in them, and you spot a variety of snack, chips, drinks, and box of strawberries.  

“Thanks, Tae.” You coo fondly when you see your favorite snack. Just the distraction you needed. Taehyung nods, and walks past you and into your home comfortably, heading straight for the kitchen.  

“Jimin.” You tap his back trying to signal the hug had been going on for a little too long. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, at least. “Time to go inside.”

Instead of letting you go, the blonde man tightens his grip on you. He starts waddling you backwards and into your house.

“Jimin, let go.” You giggle happily.  

“But what if I don’t want to?” He retorts and laughs as the two of you backtrack into your living area slowly.  

“How are we going to beat Tae at videogames if one of us can’t see the tv?” You question after you finally come to a stop. You can hear the sound of crinkling plastic bags behind you as Taehyung placed the assorted snacks behind you, on the kitchen counter.

Jimin pulls a fake look of seriousness that makes you laugh. “You have a mirror somewhere we can use, right?”

“Do you know how hard that would be? No way.” You hit his chest as you lean back from his hold. He just grins at you.

“Well, you know I can���t let you go until you say the magic words.” He raises an eyebrow.

“I am not saying that.” You roll your eyes.

“Well, then.” His fingers flex against their hold on your sides in warning.  

“No, don’t you-” Your retaliation turns into a shriek as the man tickles your sides.

“Say it.” Jimin continues.

You can barely say anything with how much you’re laughing and squirming. It’s unfair.

“Oh, sweet Jimin–” You get out somehow between laughs. “The cutest angel– ow, ow.” In the midst of your squirming, your back turns just the right way for spasms to rack across it.

Instantly, Jimin stops his tickling and unravels his arms around your form. He takes a tentative step back to give you room. “Are you ok, y/n?”

“Jimin, don’t kill her.” The sound of rustling plastic stops as Taehyung turns to look over at the two of you. He frowns as he sees you leaning slightly to the side, trying your best to ease the spasming muscles on your back.

“I’m fine.” You strain out. “My body’s just been hurting for a couple days now. It’ll go away soon.”

“y/n, I’m so sorry.” Jimin laments sadly. His hands are still frozen in the air, wanting to help inspect you as his eyes roam over your form instead.  

“Did you get rid of that crappy chair yet?” Taehyung questions, the sound of bags crinkling once again, as he resumes his task.

Just how many snacks did he buy?

Jimin’s face turns serious as he goes to move around you and towards your room. “I told you to get rid of that piece of junk.”

“No, no, no.” You reach out and grabbing Jimin’s wrist quickly.

He stops immediately at your touch and glances back at you. Despite the chair being a piece of junk, you don’t want him to throw it out. You have other things to spend money on. Plus, it’s not really the problem this time. “It’s not the chair, Jimin, I swear. Don’t throw it out.”

Jimin eyes you critically. “So, if it’s not that, then what?”

“Errr…” You avoid eye contact as you quickly try to think of a lie and avoid Jimin’s skeptical face. “Wow, Taehyung sure bought a lot of snacks. We should help him out.”

You quickly let go of Jimin’s arm and, in order to seem nonchalant, you try to brush past him in the same manner he did earlier to you. But, of course, he won’t let you escape so easily and moves to secure you by the wrist.  

It's your turn to look back at him now. The look he gives you makes your heart pound. It’s so caring, but there is a touch of sadness in his eyes. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know, Jimin.” You sigh as you look at the ground, suddenly so much more interested in your feet now. “It’s just… I’m… about to start my period.” You stumble through the words and just decide to get it over with. It may be awkward, but your friends are good at saving a good time.  

“…Oh!” Jimin drops your arm, and runs his hand through his hair nervously. “I’m sorry I was pushing.”

“It’s just parts of my body aches right before my period.” You start speaking quickly. “It’s quite normal for the lower back to hurt before it starts.”

Oh god, why won’t the words stop now.  

“It’s only started happening the last few months so I’m not quite used to it yet.”  

Why are you telling them all of this unnecessary information?

“I would kill for a massage.” You finally end with a cringe.  

“If you want…” You look back at Jimin who speaks up with slight hesitation. His hands are clasped together nervously, “…I could give you a massage?”

“He’s got quite the magical hands, you know.” Taehyung shouts from across the room. Jimin wiggles his fingers, gaining confidence at his friend’s words.

“…If you wouldn’t mind?” You tilt your head after pondering the idea, smiling sheepishly at your friend. “I’d appreciate it Jimin, thanks.”

“It’s not a problem.” Jimin twirls a finger, signaling for you to turn around. “I wish I could have helped you earlier.”

“If your hands really are magical, I’ll text you my period tracker.” You turn around, chuckling.

You feel the warmth of Jimin’s body move closely behind yours, and his breath tickles your neck giving you goosebumps. Warm hands are placed on your shoulders and start kneading, slowly working their way down. You hum appreciatively, his hands do feel nice.  

Now facing the kitchen, you gasp as you notice the crazy number of snacks lined up on the counter. “Taehyung!”

“It’s not enough, isn’t it?” Mumbles Taehyung as he looks at the pile. An open box of strawberries is in his hand, a couple already devoured by the strawberry lover.

“It’s too– oh, Jimin, right there.” You practically moan as you become putty in his hands.  

“This good?” He asks as his hands rest at the base of your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into the center of your lower back.  

You nod your head up and down quickly to show your appreciation.

“Good.” He hums as he maneuvers your bodies so you can lean against him, and rest your head back on his shoulder. His hands fit between your bodies, pulling lightly at your shirt. “Is it ok if I reach under?”

“Yeah.” You jump slightly when his skin touches your own, making him chuckle.

You are suddenly all too aware of the position the two of you are in. His thighs grazing yours, feeling every inch of his hard chest against your back, his fingers circling pleasantly into your tired muscles, and his breath sweeping over the side of your face as he looks down at you in concentration. You close your eyes and hide your face into his neck, everything becoming just a little bit overwhelming for your over sensitive body.

“Want one?” You turn your head, and open your eyes to see Taehyung holding a strawberry in front of your face.  

“Thanks, Tae.” You mumble. lifting your head from its resting place on Jimin, but before you could reach up to take the offered fruit, you feel it brushing softly against your lips.

Taehyung is eyeing your lips intensely before they move up to make eye contact with your own. He prods the strawberry against your lips a little harder, and you open your mouth in response. He smirks as he slides the strawberry into your mouth until it reaches the base. You close your mouth around it and bite the fruit, the sweet flavor filling your mouth.

Taehyung’s thumb swipes at your bottom lip, wiping off the strawberry juice, before he slides the digit into his mouth, sucking it clean. “Tasty, isn’t it?”

You whimper at the ache you feel between your legs. Thighs rubbing together unconsciously, you realize how wet you at that moment, from the slickness that coats your panties, smearing your upper thighs.  

Taking a deep breath, you to try to clear your mind. “O-Ok guys, I think I’m good. Thanks for the special treatment. So, I’ll um, go set the games up now.”

Jimin grips onto your waist before you can bolt. “You’re still so stiff though. Are you sure?” His hands prod at a sensitive spot making you tense as he works the muscle out. It’s slightly painful, but pleasurable at the same time.

“I have magic hands too.” Taehyung mimics the hand wiggle Jimin preformed earlier. “You said ‘parts of your body ache’,” Taehyung air quotes, “Where else hurts? Are your feet sore?” He questions almost hopefully.

You turn your head to the side indignantly, “No, they’re fine. I’ve already embarrassed myself enough today, though. So, don’t worry about it.”

“You didn’t embarrass yourself.” Jimin reprimands, pinching you lightly.

“Ow.” You tilt your head back again to try to give him the best glare you can manage, but instead it looks more like an adorable pout which makes him laugh. “Don’t laugh, ok? I’m not going to ask you to massage my breasts.” You blurt out.

Jimin’s hands freeze and you feel his form stiffen behind you. The atmosphere around you changes. It feels just as heady as you feel when Jimin looks at you with dark eyes.

“If you want me to do that, I can.” Taehyung replies casually and confidentially.  

You whip your head back towards Taehyung, your eyes wide with surprise. He’s rubbing his hands together before intertwining his fingers and stretching his arms out in front of him.

“But we– I– is this ok?” You squeak out, somehow. Your nerves are haywire as your brain runs through all the scenarios.

Will this make things awkward later? What does all of this mean?

Taehyung looks over your shoulder to the man behind you. Nodding after their silent conversation, Taehyung steps forward until he’s directly in front of you, barely standing an arm’s length away.  

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine.” Taehyung shrugs. “I’ll pull out the Mario Kart, and feed you more strawberries, but if you do-” Taehyung finishes his sentence, closing the distance, and effectively sandwiching you between him and Jimin.

Your breath hitches as Taehyung slides his hands up your side, stopping just before the curve of your breasts to purr, “I promise I’ll make you feel better.”

Those words break the dam of your lust, and causes warmth to spread all over your body. You whine pitifully, words lost to you. Your back arches automatically, chest desiring the sensation of touch.

“Use your words, y/n.” Jimin whispers huskily into your ear, making a shiver go down your spine. You feel the smirk on his lips as they skim your lobe.  

Screw the fucking consequences.  

“Please.” You beg quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “Touch me, make me feel good.”

Both men make noises of approval. You feel the sounds rumble from their chests on both of your sides. Large hands reach up and cup your breasts over your clothes. Taehyung’s fingers knead your breasts carefully as you whimper, both out of pain and pleasure.

“It’ll be ok, Princess.” Taehyung reassures, “Just have to work out the kinks.”

“Just relax.” Jimin leaves a light, feathery kiss behind your ear. His lips skim down to your neck, nose brushing at your jaw encouragingly. Your head tilts to the side automatically to give him more access. He continues pressing his thumbs into your lower back. “We got you.”

With weak legs, faint pants come from your parted lips. You lift your arms to wrap them around Taehyung’s neck. It’s all too much, but, at the same, you still need more. So, you brush your lips lightly against Taehyung’s who immediately reciprocates. It starts off slow, but turns hungry quickly.

You moan into his mouth, and Taehyung uses that moment to invade your mouth with his tongue, passionately exploring. Your hands reach into his hair, knocking his hat off in the process, and weave into his soft locks. His lips only leave yours after you tug his hair slightly, your breath heavy as you try to regain some oxygen.  

“Can I take my shirt off?” You pant out, your voice coming off a little breathless. “Need to feel more.”

Taehyung’s hands leave your chest. “Raise your arms,” He commands.

You untangle your hands from his hair, now sticking up in different directions, and you raise your arms above your head, just as you are told. Grabbing the ends of your shirt, Taehyung slowly pulls it up, exposing your skin inch by inch. Once it is off, he throws it off to the side.

Jimin looks over your shoulder to ogle the sight of the cleavage spilling out of your bra. “You’re so much bigger now.” His hands slide up your back up to your bra strap. “Do you want this off, too?”

“Yes.” You croon, sighing contently as Jimin’s fingers nimbly undo the claps, chest now free from its constraints.

Taehyung slides the straps off your shoulders before tossing the garment to the side, as well. His hands return to your chest making the both of you moan. You do it out of sensitivity, but he cramps up at the sensation of his fingers kneading into the soft yet firm flesh. Cleavage spills around his large, splayed out hands, and he is fascinated at the sight.  

Jimin’s hands rub lower down your back, more so than they were before. His fingers dip slightly under your pants and brush along the top of your ass. You moan wantonly and unashamedly when Taehyung brushes your erect nipples, and circles his thumb around them almost lazily.

“What else, Princess?” Asks Taehyung, licking his lips in anticipation.  

“My ass.” You whimper and Jimin hums in response, eager for you to continue. Which is exactly what you do. “Want you to grope it, Jimin.”

Jimin’s hands slide as much as they can into your pants, but they hindered slightly by the clothing. “Tae...” He whines miserably.

“On it.” He grunts and the coldness his hands leave behind after they’re removed from your chest makes you whine.

Taehyung chuckles at how needy you are as he unbuttons your pants and slides the zipper down. Jimin’s hands now slide freely down to your ass in-between your pants and underwear. He starts groping your ass, just as you requested.  

“I need your mouth on them, Tae.” You arch your back even more to better display your breasts.  

Taehyung eyes your breast heaving up and down as you do your best to breathe. “On these?” He teases as one hand comes to pinch and pull a hard nipple, the other moves to your waist and rubs circles into your skin.

“Ah!” you keen and your hips rock unintentionally, making both men moan at the friction. “Yes, there Taehyung, fuck.”

Licking his lips hungrily, Tae quickly descends onto a nipple. Your moans become louder as he sucks and bites on it, while the other continues to get pinched and pulled between his deft fingers.

The fingers on your ass slide down between your legs and feel the slicking gathering on your thighs. “You’re so wet.” Jimin moans, hips swiveling into yours. The action causes yours to rot rut into Taehyung’s, who returns the action with a moan of his own.  

“You’re so spoiled.” Jimin chuckles darkly as he feels more of your essence drip from your panties. “Do you want us to take care of this too, Princess?” He asks, adopting Taehyung’s pet name for you.

“Fuck.” The feeling of Jimin’s hands teasingly tracing your underwear is driving you mad. “I want-” You murmur shakily before you rethink your sentence, and inhale sharply. “I need you to.”

“Need me to what?” Jimin continues to tease, hand now sliding gently over the wet fabric and right over your core.

“Jimin.” You whine, hoping he would just push the soaked clothing aside and touch you where you desire it most, but he continues his feather touches.

“Please, touch my pussy.” You beg. “Rub my clit.”

“Your wish is my command.” Jimin moans with you as his fingers slip past your underwear finally, and feels how truly drenched you are. His finger swipes at your entrance, up your slit, and begins to rub your engorged clit.

“Ooohh yes, fuck yes, Jimin.” You chant over and over, hips rocking into his hand and thus also into Taehyung.  

“Fuck.” Taehyung groans as his mouth leaves your breast. His blown-out eyes look down between your bodies to see your exposed panties peeking through your unzipped jeans. The thin material does nothing to hide how Jimin’s hand is caressing your cunt and clit.

Tugging on the top of your jeans, Taehyung kneels down in front of you, pulling your pants down with him. His eyes are now level with your core, and he watches Jimin’s hand work before he loops his fingers into the tops of your underwear. Slowly, he pulls the material down, a rope of slick coming down with it.

“No, don’t stop.” You whine as Jimin stops rubbing your clit.

His fingers find your lower lips and spread them open with both his hands, fully exposing you to Taehyung. Taehyung’s hands come to rest on your slick thighs, pushing on them to encourage to spread yourself more, which you comply to easily.  

“Fuck, soon you’ll be begging me to stop.” Taehyung looks up at you as his breath ghosts your cunt. “Switch, Jimin.”

Jimin’s fingers let go of your lips and reach up to your breasts aching for attention. His wet hand gropes your swelling boobs, rolling your nipples under his slick palm.

You watch as Taehyung’s mouth closes the distance between him and your pussy, his hot, hard tongue following the same pattern of Jimin’s fingers. The muscle teases your entrance before sliding up and down your slit a few times until he reaches your clit. He gives the bundle kitten-licks as he savors the way your face fleetingly twists in pleasure, his eyes carefully catching each expression.

“Ooh, Tae,” You tangle your fingers into his hair once again, encouraging him to get closer, to go deeper. He envelops your clit in his hot mouth and sucks hard, making you scream. “Tae!”

Your moans never stop, instead, they only increase in volume; especially as Taehyung slides one hand further up your thigh, and gathers your fluid with it before sliding his fingers into your tight hole.

“You’re so fucking tight.” Taehyung groans between your legs and his voice sends vibrations through your very core. He moves his finger in and out of you, stretching you before he adds a second. His wrists flick rapidly as he fucks you with his fingers. “Such a needy girl.”

You cum quickly with a scream. Stars line up your vision at the powerful orgasm. Jimin holds your twitching body up as Taehyung continues to fuck your clenching hole with his fingers while licking the cum clean that drips from his fingers. Your orgasm ends, but Taehyung keeps going, now sucking and nibbling at your clit again. “Too much, too much.” You pull at Taehyung’s hair, trying to pull him away. He doesn’t relent, intent on keeping his word from earlier.

Strong arms from behind wrap around you, and pull you away from the kneeling man, whose face glistens from your cum. “Taehyung, you need to give her a break.”

Bless you Jimin, you beautiful angel.

“It’s my turn next.” His grip on you tightens, almost possessively like a child holding their favorite toy.

Wait, what?

“Fine, but I really want her to hear her beg more.” Taehyung stands up and stalks toward the both you.  

“If she’s up for it,” Jimin shrugs, “it’s fine by me.” You’re not sure if he’s supporting you or signing your death warrant.

Once Taehyung reaches you, he grabs your chin between his fingers to hold you still as he kisses you deeply. His tongue easily slips into your mouth, and you taste yourself from his mouth.

He ends the kiss, wiping the back of his hand along his mouth. “Tasty, isn’t it?”

Jimin’s head suddenly reaches over your shoulder, pushing you in between him and Taehyung, as his lips reaches the other man’s. It’s a messy kiss, Jimin practically eating out Taehyung’s mouth. You stare at the scene, heat once again pooling between your legs.  

“Divine.” Jimin says as he breaks the kiss and licks his lips. He starts waddling you backwards towards your room in the same fashion as he did earlier.

“Now, I’m going to fuck you so hard into that chair of yours. it’ll break. Then, you’ll have to buy a new one.”  

Taehyung laughs as he follows along, eyeing your form now being practically dragged away by Jimin.

“Jimin, nooo.” You whine, not pleased at the prospect of buying another chair, which they seemed hell-bent on turning true. “The bed works perfectly fine.”

[forbiddenfantasies1]

J/B Smut Swap Fic Recs

There have been so many amazing fics posted in the @jb-smut-swap, but I wanted to share the ones that have really stuck out for me. The amount of talent this fandom has continues to be ridiculous so this is long but in no way comprehensive.

Shocker...I got wordy so it's under the cut. I limited this one to 5 just because I couldn't shut up about them. At least one more will be coming (that's what she said).

with those who know secret things for SimoneBlack, rated E. The premise for Brienne as a sex worker and Jaime, a client who is seeking freedom and trust, could so easily be mishandled. This was anything but. It is somehow simultaneously wonderfully dirty and so, so tender. I lost my mind reading this, and it was worth every throw of my pillow. I'm still trying to understand how it had so much heat with so much heart.

Lines that will live in my head forever: There are several, but I'm gonna go with:

“Do you like to be touched, Jaime?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

Her finger stopped just above his navel, and when she pulled her hand away he swayed towards her. “But you aren't touched often,” she said, warm as a lazy afternoon. He listened for mockery, but there was none, just a fact, stated with quiet empathy.

“No.”

Blue placed her palm – studded with smoothed-down calluses and cooler than he expected – over his heart. “Do you want me to touch you tonight?”

The answer is yes, by the way

what is dark in me illumine for @bussdowntarthiana, rated E. Yall. This fic ruined me for an hour solid. My note on it says "made me want to throw myself through a plate glass window, and then eat the glass" and it's true. Jaime is a bar owner (and an ethical, exiled demon). Brienne is an ethics professor. Their attraction feels so layered, and the vibes of consent, and honor, and acceptance are woven through the smuttiest smut perfectly.

Lines that will live in my head forever: Again, there are so many, BUT this and the scene directly after it will live in my head FOREVER.

Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. Her pupils are spreading, darkness over the ocean. "I like hard and fast and filthy," she says evenly. "But do you want to know what happens to me when I hear you talk about how you've chosen to make your way in this world?"

He does. Desperately. "What?"

She opens her mouth, then seems to change her mind. "Maybe in this case, a demonstration would be the better pedagogical tool."

That prim word with all those consonants bouncing around in her mouth makes him want to sink his teeth into her. "Please feel free, Doctor Tarth."

(I can't talk about what her demonstration was because it makes me want to break things).

Hush for TwoKnightsOneCup, rated E. This is another that fell in the "Fuck this fic and this writer" category for me. It's a 5+1 structured fic where Jaime is a chopper pilot and Brienne is a researcher in Antarctica, and they're trying to fuck quietly all over the place without getting caught. Stupidly hot with amazing scenery porn, and some singular lines that will have you wanting to throw hands at the author for burrowing into your brain.

Lines that will live in my head forever: I almost picked the part with the belt, but honestly it's so fucking horny on main and I'm trying to have some decorum here. So I'll go with this instead.

“I’m taking these off,” Jaime tells her, his voice a low growl, and Brienne flushes but she lets him peel her thermal tights and underwear down while she sprawls on the bedroll before him, and it feels like flying in low out of the clouds over the frozen coastline for the first time, seeing the glacier rolling down to the water’s edge: the impossible extent of it, the startled sense of wonder. There are fading bruises on her shins and the vivid bright rash of a scrape on her knee, and he marvels at all the colors that make up the endless landscape of her. But then he nudges her knees apart and sees her cunt wet and open for him, smells her, and he realizes she’s not like that pallid, uninhabitable scenery at all: she’s pink and red and alive, almost steaming in the cool air. His mouth waters, and he shoves his arms under her thighs and descends.

But seriously...the part with the belt? Whew.

Lines that will live in my head forever: When they eventually came up for air, he looked at her with a look she’d seen on him in the courtyard every time he was going to go on the offence. Here, she knew not what it meant, yet it still sent a similar sort of anticipation down her spine.

Thrust Exercises for greenmtwoman, rated E. God this damn fic. First of all, it's basically canon divergence with a young Jaime and Brienne. Jaime has been Master at Arms at Evenfall ever since Selwyn lugged his ass home after the Rebellion like the world's mouthiest souvenir. There are three things to know about this fic: 1) Jaime and Brienne are genuinely friends in this. Their history and affection are just so apparent. 2) Jaime plans (beforehand!) to introduce Brienne to strip sparring (!!!) before the bedding. And 3) Jaime is so horny for his wife, y'all. He wants her so bad and there's a moment where he realizes she wants him too that made my heart migrate to my eyes.

“It means, I want you.” Before she could ask, he said, “I told you before, didn't I? Your face is very loud.”

She frowned; he lifted himself on his toes and kissed the knot between her brows.

“I quite like it,” he said, “your very loud face.”

They just like each other so much. I can't stand it.

Light my fire for me, and rated E. I've already recced this one in a separate post, but it's my list and I can do what I want. And what I want is to tell people to read this fic because I loved it so much. Brienne and Jaime are coworkers at a ski lodge, and are celebrating the end of a season. Jaime, bless his thotty soul, is wearing a union suit under his ski wear, and if that isn't code for "wants his dick admired" well then I don't know what is. When their roommates hook up, Jaime and Brienne are forced to share a cabin and if it has so many of my favorite tropes in it, I can barely stand it. I was so, so happy with my gift, and I just want everyone to read it and be happy too.

Lines that will live in my head forever: They stand in front of the fireplace and Jaime backs up half a step, watching her from beneath hooded eyelids as he undoes more buttons of his union suit. He takes his time, and she lets her eyes devour every sliver of skin he slowly exposes – muscled chest with dark blond hair scattered across it, defined abs highlighted by the orange glow of the fire, the V of muscle at the bottom of his stomach that leads her eyes down to the hard jut of his cock outlined by the cloth. He stops unbuttoning just there, sliding the top of the union suit down off his shoulders and letting the arms hang at his sides.

This is literally why I prompted the union suit. All I wanted was Jaime in a union suit with Brienne admiring the shape of his cock through the thin fabric. That's it. The one paragraph hit every dream I had for it, but all the other paragraphs are good too.

[fivefeetfear]

Chp 7!

This Chapter goes out to @spinelxreader​ for showing me this song!

youtube.com/watch?v=Cdo0lfWoqws

I absolutely love it! I hope yall like it! Please watch the video so you can have a better understanding of the vibe for the story!

………………………………………….

“5, 6,7, 8!” (Y/N) shouts from the front of the class. The short girl is currently running through a rigorous routine with her class for an upcoming musical for the Summer Festival that is approaching in a few months. And she wants the show to go perfectly.

“More energy!” she shouts, her eyes watching her students from the mirror in front of her as she too danced.

“Alexi pick up your feet! Topaz I better see that leg go behind your head!” she yells, at the gem and human. She saw them both nod as they fell in proper coordination with the large group. Good. The song then ended and the class strikes their individual poses. (Y/N) whips around with a wide smile as she places her hands on her hips.

“Ok that was good everybody! Give yourself a round of applause.” The (C/G) gem praised. Amber and the other teachers clapped with their students for a job well done. Rehearsal are now over, the class sat on the floor or couches mingling with their friends. (Y/N) looks at the clock on the wall, she might have time to run through a new routine she was working on quickly, but before she could even move, someone stopped her in her tracks.

“You’re really an intense teacher.” (Y/N) chest tightens when she heard the familiar accent that made her very gem swoon. The curvy being turns around to see Spinel standing there wearing a friendly smile on her face. She wore a similar outfit from yesterday and this time her hair was in her signature pigtails. Oh goodness, she looks so adorable!

“El!” The (Y/G) calls out happily hopping into the pink girl’s arms, wrapping her arms around the slender gem neck. Spinel squeaks at the sudden weight not expecting the embrace.

“Hey, Doll I see ya in a good mood bout somethin.” Spinel mentions her positive attire while wrapping her long arms around the petite gem form.

“Well I was in a good mood before but you made it better!” (Y/N) coos batting her long lashes at the magenta gem. Spinel face flushed a bright pink stumbling over her words not sure how to respond to that. She wasn’t used to be flirted with.

“Ugh, get a room you two!” Amber shouts teasingly from across the studio, a chorus of lighthearted laughter follows her comment from the students watching the two. The taller gem hides her face in (Y/N) neck causing the small gem t to laugh sweetly into her ear. (Y/N) unwraps herself from Spinel, grabbing her hands and pulling her to a nearby love seat. She tucks her legs under herself at sat Spinel beside her.

“So did you bring the poem?” she asks curiously. Spinel nod her head as she digs in her hoodie pocket and pulls out the folded paper. (Y/N) took the sheet, quickly unfolding it, and starts to read the neat hand writing on the sheet. Spinel sat nervously as she twiddled with her thumbs. She didn’t know anything about writing a poem. So she had asked the Crystal Gems for help. They were really kind and patience when she was struggling to write out her feelings.

The quiet nearly suffocated Spinel as her leg bounces anxiously. She really hopes she doesn’t scare off (F/N) with all her issues. Once (F/N) was done, her (E/C) eyes move their gaze from the paper to worry magenta orbs. Oh stars! Spinel felt her chest squeeze in anticipation worry what she might think.

“This is really good Ellie. It’s so real, it’s raw and....thank you for trusting me to read something so personal.” (F/N) reaches her hand out placing it on top of hers giving it a reassuring squeeze. Spinel released the breath she was holding feeling relaxed. Oh thank the Diamonds she didn’t freak her out.

“R-really?” The slender gem stutters out, she subconsciously flips her palm up and claps (F/N) hand. Their fingers easily laces together bring both female comfort.

“Yes! It is powerful, symbolic and dark. It will make a perfect song!” (Y/N) says as she taps her chin wondering how to start the process.

“A song?” Spinel inquires as she watches (Y/N) summon a pen from her gem.

“Yeah! Told you that yesterday, writing the poem was step one. The next step is turning it into a song.” (Y/N) explains as she slides onto the floor on her knees to write on the coffee table.

“So what’s your favorite genre of music?” The short gem asks ready to write down some notes. Spinel joins the girl on the floor; she places her elbow on the table humming in thought. She favored a lot of genres, rock has been her go too as of late, but there was another that has her whole gem.

“Well, it ain’t considered a genre, but I favor Electroswing. Amethyst introduced me to it about a year ago.” Spinel answers.

“Electroswing? What’s that?” The (S/C) gem asks her head tilts to the side.  

“What!? Ya don’t know what Electroswing is?!”Spinel asks brows scrunched together in disbelief. (Y/N) shook her head slowly offering the spinel a bashful smile. Spinel hastily places her hands on the other girl's shoulders shaking her gently as she talks excitedly about her favorite thing.

“Swing is soooooo much fun! Ya do whateva ya want! Go wild, go fast or go slow! In swing there are no rules!” Spinel explains passionately with glittery eyes.

“You just explained the concept of every music genre ever, El.” The short girls say playfully rolling her eyes.

“Ya missin the point, swing is betta!” Spinel cracks back leaning in closer to (Y/N) face. Spinel could feel the fire ignite; the pink gem was ready to throw down when it came to talking about her favorite kind music. Swing dancing is one thing she knew she excels at without a doubt! She would bet her very gem on it. Swing always made her happy whenever she was down; it was her only coping mechanism on Homeworld. Nevertheless, it was hard to do swing alone; she couldn’t dance with the Diamonds and the other gems didn’t seem too into it. It saddens her that she couldn’t share the one thing she truly is passionate about with others. Spinel sighs softly as she leans back on her hands, she knew she could sweep (Y/N) off her feet with her abilities if given the chance.

Then an idea strikes her as she looks back over at the cute gem before her. Maybe this could be her chance.

“In fact.” She mutters with a mischief smirk as she stands up offering her hand to the small gem. (Y/N) took her hand and stood beside her with curious eyes.  

“C’mon, let me teach ya how to swing Doll.” Spinel says winking at the girl, her accent rolling off each word. The short gems knees almost caved right from under her as an army of swarming butterflies erupted in her stomach. Oh?  Where did this sudden burst of confidence come from? Just a second ago, she was a blushing mess! But now she was flirty? (Y/N) wasn’t complaining at all though, this is a side of Spinel she would love to explore more of. The tall gem led the two to the middle of the dance floor before explaining the art that is swing to the dance instructor.

“Ok, so swing has alotta dance styles. To name a few, there’s the Charleston, the Balbo and my personal favorite the Lindy Hop. We are going to learn how to Lindy Hop. So kick both your feet out like this…. Good, see simple.” Spinel coach’s as they stood side by side kicking their feet out slowly.

“Ok now go faster, and make sure to twist ya foot out. Amazing look at ya go.” Spinel complimented making the short gem blush, the two doing a few simple steps together.

“Now to add a lil flare, after ya kick, bring your knee-high while keeping the speed.  Ayyyy, there ya go teach!” A few of the students that decided to hang around watched their teacher get her very own dance lesson. Spinel taught (Y/N) a few more steps, they slowly pieced them together to create a short routine. (Y/N) was having too much fun receiving Spinel’s undivided attention the whole time. There were moments when she did a step wrong just to have Spinel’s hands on her shoulder or hips to correct the error.  After about an hour Spinel decided the (G/S) was ready.

“OK, now let’s try it with music!” the pink gem said as she the tugs collar of her sweater down to expose her perfectly heart-shaped gem. (Y/N) breath hitches in her throat when her eyes took noticed of defined collarbones and the top of her bra cups.

‘Get your shit together!’ She curses herself in her head. (E/C) hues watch Spinel summoned her phone from her gem and walks over to a student that sat beside a large radio.

“Play it when I say ready.” She instructs to the teen.

“Wait I’m not ready!” (Y/N) panics as Spinel approaches her. The pink gem rolls her eyes as she grabs the (G/C) gem hands into her own pulling their bodies close together.

“Oh stop that ya got this teach, just do it like I taught ya~.” She coos teasingly watching (Y/N) cheeks glow a bright (S/C). Satisfied with the reaction, Spinel rest one hand on (Y/G) hips, pressing their bodies closer together.

“Ready.” Spinel says over her shoulder to the student. The girl nods and presses the play button on the device to start the song.

one, two, three, take my hand and come with me

Because you look so fine

That I really wanna make you mine

I say you look so fine

That I really wanna make you mine

(Y/N) could feel her very core becoming putty in Spinel’s hands from the sudden buoyancy that radiant off the taller girl. (Y/N) never felt so nervous in her life and she was in a war! A devilish smirk spreads on Spinel’s lips as the pair sway in slow circles gazing at each other.

“See ya are doin fine, but the song is gonna pick up soon doll. Make sure you can keep up~.” Spinel whispers to her. Her words instantly brought out the competitive nature that burns within the short gem core. Her eyes sharpen teasingly at the suddenly arrogant Spinel. Two can play at this game.

“How about you worry about yourself, Ellie. Don’t forget I’m a teacher, I can dance circles around you all day.”  (Y/N) says smugly with a triumphant grin. Spinel ‘oohh’ playfully before she cranes down her neck lower, her hand giving the curvy gems hip a rough squeeze. An insatiable jolt shots right up her spine as electricity tickles the inside of her gem. Fuck.  

“If ya make that all day to all night, then I would love to schedule a private lesson~.” (Y/N) nearly lost her footing at Spinel words. Oh shit, that was smooth as fuck, seriously where is all this confidence coming from? Before (Y/N) could fully compose herself, she was twirled around as the song's tempo sped up as Spinel promised. Spinel danced with ease, knowing this song like the back of her hand having had heard it a million times. Finally getting a grip; (Y/N) followed Spinel’s lead, remembering the steps she had just learned.

Well I could see

You home with me

But you were with another man, yeah!

I know we

Ain't got much to say

Before I let you get away, yeah!

I said, are you gonna be my girl?

Spinel swung out the short gem out; letting her arm stretching a few feet before yanking the (Y/N) back to her. The (E/C) eyed gem coiled into the elongated limp back into Spinel’s embrace. With the use of her arm, the pink gem then whips the short girl like a top making her twirl something fierce. She looks like a small tornado! This made the slender gem laugh as she magically grasped (Y/N) hands from her cyclone state making her come to a complete stop. The dizzy (G/S) laughs as her head lolls from the rush.

“You ok darling?” Spinel asks the girl in her arms they spun in a slow circle.

“That wasn’t part of the lesson.” She says softly composing herself enough to fall into step with the pink gem. Spinel chuckles softly as she at the short girl with sharp eyes.

“Told ya to keep up.” She resorted humorously.  (Y/N) snaps herself out of her dizzy daze and fell back into step.

Big black boots

Long blonde hair

She's so sweet

With her get back stare

Well I could see

You home with me

But you were with another man, yeah!

I know we

Ain't got much to say

Before I let you get away, yeah!

I said, are you gonna be my girl?

Spinel soon broke off from the partner routine to do her own thing, she stretched and twisted her body in a toony fashion. Her body fluctuating in ways one can only dream. The pink gem arms swung in every direction as her feet shuffles quickly. (Y/N) found herself standing still since she couldn’t even predict her moves. All she could do was watch in amazement as Spinel literally danced circles around her with her bright smile. I guess she had to admit defeat, Spinel out danced her and she wasn’t even upset about it. Seeing the The short gem loved the way her magenta eyes shine as she dances her heart out. (F/N) really could tell she was in the zone and not even showing off, the love of ones passion is so powerful it really can take you away.

The (H/C) gem watch as Spinel slides on her knees from across the class, stopping in front of her. Spinel easily sprung back onto her feet, her larger hand grabs (Y/N) left hand and whips her around to the tempo of the trumpet.

“C’mon suga, show me what ya got~.” She says spinning the girl out from across the floor. (Y/N) stood off to the side of the floor thinking what she could pull off successfully. Spinel did say she could do whatever she wanted. (F/N) takes a running start she easily performed various styles of layout flips across the floor. She then plants herself back onto the ground and rushes over to Spinel. The pink gem bends her knees to get low as (Y/N) flashes into her awaiting arms. Spinel smirks as she whirls around before tossing (F/N) high up in the air. (F/N) giggles loudly as she was launched upwards, she strike a pose when she reach her high point. As (F/N )began to descended back down, Spinel coils her arms securely around her waist and thigh to dip the (S/C) gem in a fish pose. The class gasped in amazement and fear as they saw (F/N) face was merely inches away from the floor. If Spinel would had miscalculated the time, the (G/S) would had smash her face against the hardwood floor.

The duo continue to freestyle . Spinel places the short girl right back up in front of her. (Y/N) presses her ass against Spinel’s front, grinding in a slow manner making the pink gem nearly drop to her knees. The feeling of (Y/N) soft ass rubbing up against her sex sent sparks of pleasure through the pink gem. The sensation nearly left her breathless. Spinel reaches down to grab her hips to keep the female in place; craving more of the new feeling but (Y/N) slips from her grasp. The short gem easily did a straddle split and slides between Spinel’s legs to get behind her. The taller gem whips around with heavy eyes as she stretches her arms out and yanks the (F/N) back into her.

“Tease~.” She purrs earning a giggle from the (Y/G).

“Keep up.” She quips back with a wink.

Oh yeah, oh yeah, c'mon!

I could see

You home with me

But you were with another man, yeah!

Sadly, the song was ending and Spinel wished they could do this a while longer. This is the most fun she ever had in a long while. But she is proud of herself for make it this far without collapsing from over stimulation, and she was determined to end strong too. The pink gem grabs onto (Y/N) hands and spins her a few times before swinging the girl down into a dip. Gathering all the confidence she had left, Spinel opens her mouth to sing the last few lines.

“I know we, ain't got much to say, before I let you get away, yeah!” The short gem’s chest tightens when she heard a brilliant voice ringing in her ears. Her gazes instantly morphing into shock to astonishment as Spinel sang the lyrics effortlessly. Holy fuck, she didn’t know she could sing like this!

The slender gem smirks at the girl’s starry-eyed expression; she slowly brought her back up to her feet, pressing their physiques close together. The pink gem stares down at her with hooded eyes as she uses her fingers to tilt the awestruck gem chin up. (Y/N) breath hitched in her throat at the action, her mind went blank. She couldn’t think and she couldn’t move. Her mind has finally reached its limit of surprises. From the events of yesterday, mixed in with dancing and singing became too much for her bare. All she could feel was the butterflies coming back with a vengeance.

“Uh, be my girl, be my girl, are you gonna be my girl? Yeah.” The hairs on the back (Y/N) stood on end as Spinel riffs out the high notes smoothly. Chills travel through her form, as she stood unmoving locked into place. Spinel smiles at the frozen female in her arms loving the fact she was able to leave her speechless for once.  Spinel could feel her ego swell ten times it sizes, she very proud of her work. Then her cocky smile slips from her face when she notices a soft (F/C) glow around the short gems silhouette. Spinel raises an eyebrow as she watches her (H/C) hair slowly levitate in the air. The (C/G) girls was deeply enchanted by Spinel that her powers activated on their own, slowly lifting her off the ground. Spinel watched as the (F/N) slowly floats up towards the ceiling, clearly still in a trance. Well damn, she knew she was good but not that good. Spinel giggles cutely pleased to have this effect on her. She stretches her arms up tugging the curvy girl back down by her hands with a fond smile plastered on her lips.  

“Ya doin ok darlin?” The taller gem askes when she placed the short girl back down. The roars of applause snapped (Y/N) out of her daze. Oh stars, did she really just blacked out? (Y/N) clasped her hands on her cheeks and buried her face back into Spinel’s chest whining childishly in embarrassment. The pink gem erupts into a belly laughter while she snakes her arms around (Y/N) a few times pulling her close.

“It’s not funny!” the short gem cries out making Spinel laugh harder.

“It’s a lil funny.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

Omg this was so much fun to write !! I hope you guys enjoyed the fluffffffff!!!!

I hope yall liked it! I will be taking a break but I will be very much active on here!

[jawabear]

Marcus Moreno fluff alphabet

Not my GIF

A/N: As promised, here is the fluff alphabet for Marcus the super daddy! I hope you enjoy it! Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Fem!Reader, loads of fluff, mentions of self doubt, not much else

Summary: An A-Z of Marcus Moreno’s relationship antics

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Marcus would show affection in every way in the book. All day, every day if he could. And he will. He just wants you to know how much he loves you and how much you mean to him. He doesn’t feel words are enough.

He’s especially fond of hugging you from behind. That’s his go to for showing you affection as well and kissing behind your ear or the underside of your jaw.

B = Beginning (How would the relationship start?)

He’s pretty out of touch in the dating front. He doesn’t really know how to go about asking you out, so it’s Missy who actually does it. Basically sets the two of you up on a date with out either of you knowing but you both take it in stride and start dating immediately after that.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He loves to cuddle, yes. But he doesn’t make a habit out of it. You disagree, but he thinks that the more you cuddle the less effect it will have. You understand where he’s coming from but you don’t think it’s true. So really you only cuddle when he finds it absolutely necessary (which is quite often to be honest).

It’s mostly at night in bed or if either of you have had a particularly right day at work.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He was a single dad for a while so he’s pretty good at that sort of stuff. When he puts his mind to it, he’s a pretty good cook. And he does make sure everything that has a place is in its place.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He probably wouldn’t have the heart to do it. But if he really had to, he would just tell you that it wasn’t working. But he wouldn’t ever end it with you.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

I don’t see Marcus as the type to get married a second time. He’s kind of put off the idea after his first marriage. Although it wasn’t his fault that it ended. But I just don’t think he’d want to get married again...

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He is a very gentle man. He knows exactly what to do in any situation. He knows how to comfort you. He himself is pretty sensitive and can get quite emotional. But he is an excellent support blanket for you.

Physically, he’s super gentle. He knows how to touch you to make you feel better. He has the most comforting touch.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

As mentioned, he loves to hug you from behind. It’s just a more comforting hold he finds. This is mainly in the mornings. You would be making breakfast or something and he would appear behind you, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder before gently swaying you side to side as he told you how much he loved you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

The time in between him realising he loves you and saying it is quite long. He’s scared of telling you because he’s scare you’ll leave him.

So he waits for you to say it first. And when you do, he doesn’t stop saying it back.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Marcus does get jealous quite easily, this comes with his protective nature, but he is good at not acting on it. At least not in an overbearing way.

If someone is flirting with you, he casually slide up beside you and wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him and kissing your cheek to make sure who ever it is that had tried it on you gets the message that you are unavailable.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Because he loves to hug you from behind so much, he loves to kiss behind your ear or the nape of your neck. Or even just the back of your head. He loves to bury his nose in your hair and just breath in your smell.

His kisses are all sweet and full of purpose and love. He never kisses you just for the sake of it. He kisses you to tell you how much he loves you.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Clearly he’s an excellent dad and clearly he’s good with kids. But he doesn’t really know if he wants another one. Of course he’d love to have one with you, so you can have something that it both of yours, but he’s a little on the fence about it for reasons he doesn’t even know. Perhaps he feels he’s getting too old to take care of a baby...

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Marcus is usually up before you so it’s not that often that you’ll get to cuddle in bed, even on weekends his up with the sun. But that doesn’t matter. You’ll go down stairs and see him making a coffee or something so you’ll take it upon your self to initiate morning cuddles before Missy wakes up, not that that would stop you anyway.

But on the rare occasion you get a lazy day with him, that is what it is. I’m talking not getting out of bed until lunch time. Just laying in bed, in each other’s arms. (Maybe doing some other stuff). Just overall being soft.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights are more tender than the soft mornings. It will usually be that you’ll be laying in bed facing each other, just looking at each other. He will lift his hand to gently stroke over your cheek. And you will do the same. There are no words needed in the night. These small actions are enough.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Marcus is a pretty open person I feel. I don’t think there is much he would hide from you. Besides, life as a hero means he’s pretty exposed anyway. But he wants to be straight forward with you, he doesn’t want to keep anything from you so he knows that you really do love him for him and not for who he pretends to be.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Marcus is very patient. He has been trained to keep his cool no matter what. And dealing with the Heroics has made him build up a pretty high tolerance for messing about. It take a lot for Marcus to get angry. So much so, that you’ve never seen him properly angry.

But you’ve heard stories. When he gets angry, he gets angry.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

I get the feeling that Marcus would remember absolutely everything that’s ever happened in your relationship. He probably remembers everything you’ve ever said or done. He probably knows more about you than your own parents.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time he hear you say “I love you” and meaning it is probably his favourite. You had said it a few times, but he got the feeling you had only said it to get him to say it back.

But there was one night where you were together, just being together and you looked into his eyes for a moment. You just looked at him and he looked right back at you. And then you said it. You whispered it. And he could hear the amount of truth sown into every letter. He would never forget that night.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Marcus is very protective. He has to know you’re safe. It drives him crazy if he doesn’t know where you are. But he’s not controlling. He just needs to know your okay. As long as he knows where you are and that you’re safe, he’s fine.

Should you ever end up in danger, who better to protect you than the leader of the Heroics?! To be honest, most people would be too scared to even think about hurting you if they knew that Marcus was your boyfriend. No one would want to go up against him in a fight.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Marcus always tried his best, he may not always succeed but he always tries. He wants to make sure you’re 100% happy. What he doesn’t understand is, just being with him makes you 100% happy.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He has a habit of doubting himself over the smallest things. He always worries that something is going to go wrong. He’s quite easily panicked and slightly paranoid. But that’s all a result of his job. It’s not something he can easily fix, but you try and help him as best you can.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks? Do your looks bother them?)

Looks on his partner doesn’t bother him. It’s not that he’s looking for. He just wants someone he can be with.

But he is very self conscious about that way he looks. Seeing himself on TV daily has caused this. He doesn’t do it to look good for anyone in particular (besides you), he does it so that seeing himself on the screen is a little more bearable.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

If he really thought about it, no. He wouldn’t feel incomplete as such. It’s hard for him to explain. He wouldn’t feel right with out you, but he has got Missy who has been his heart since she was born. You understand that. Regardless of how much he loves you, Missy will always come first for him. Granted, this has lead to a few complications in your relationship but you managed to get over it pretty quickly.

But he wouldn’t want to be with out you. He needs you in his life.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.

Marcus loves how easily you mix in with his family. He knows that perhaps having a kid can put people off. But he was so happy that it didn’t put you off. And he loves how good you are with Missy. How playful and helpful you are. How you’re always willing to join in, even though he knows how anxious you are about it. He just loves what you add to his family. What you add to his life. He just loves you.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He wouldn’t really like really tall girls. As I said, he loves to hug you from behind and bury his nose in your hair. This would be a little bit difficult if his partner was taller than him. But it’s not completely a no. He doesn’t really care about something like that. He’ll find a way to get it done should his partner be taller than him.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs? Does it change around a partner?)

Marcus struggles to sleep. He hasn’t really slept soundly since he was a kid. He’s a light sleeper so even when he is sleeping, he’s not really resting.

But he does find it easier to get to sleep when he’s got you by his side, you bring a comfort with you that relaxes him.

10/01/21

Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade

[majesticbrownjawn]

Delicate Part Three

Part One

Part Two

They rode quietly back to their side of town, Violet in a contemplative state of awe the whole way.

How'd he know her name? Maybe it was a freaky, weird coincidence.

She was completely taken by E. How'd he will her to give herself to him so quickly? She hadn't done anything like since her 20's. Her entire being wanted to stay there in Oakland, which let her brain know she had to do the opposite.

She had to stay away from him.

"You have to stay away from him," Trina said as she was climbing out of Violet's car. It was like her best friend had heard her thoughts and repeated them to make sure your got the picture.

"What?"

"He's no good, Vi," she asserted.

"How would you know? You just met him yourself." Violet's tone was defensive and she didn't know why, but Trina was absolutely right.

"I-I just know his type...AND know he had you with your drawers hanging around your ankles when I found you," she answered with an air of satisfaction in her voice. "God knows how many other women he's had like looking that."

Violet's eyes bulged in horror. She was always the more level-headed of the two. Sensible and practical were her middle names. Her role in their relationship was the responsible one. Violet relished in being the wise friend who always seemed to have it together and just a few hours with E was already tarnishing her image.

"Did you see him though?" Violet was trying her best to appeal to Trina's weakness for attractive men. She couldn't pick a guy with character to save her life, but they were almost always fine, and Violet was an eyewitness to Trina's inventory of E when she introduced them at the party.

Trina huffed and folded her arms at Violet disapprovingly.

"Fine. I already decided I would stay away from him. That's why I ran out of there so fast."

****

Violet loved food.

It was no wonder, though. She didn't just magically wake up one day in her pillowy-soft body.

But she turned that love for food into a craft, and studied culinary arts in Paris. Chef V's years of experience working under the best chefs in Europe made her a shoe-in for one of the few Michelin-starred restaurants in the States. She was the only Black woman executive chef of a restaurant of this caliber, which was both an honor and a shame to her. She wanted nothing more than to help other Black women in the her industry come up, but found the balance of trying to stay on top of her game and making time to give back a challenge. Doing anything other than working was a challenge for her. Maybe that was why she was so easily swayed by someone like E.

Her thoughts briefly went back to that day, now two months in the past—and she shuttered a bit at the thought of him. She would have been lying if she said she was glad he never contacted her. But she knew not hearing from him was for the best.

The sound of clanking fine china and sizzling kobe beef buzzed around her as she stood in the center of an upscale kitchen barking out orders like Gordon Ramsey. This kind of power gave her a high that was as exhilarating as it was exhausting. Everyone looked to her for direction and approval, a position she was quite familiar with.

Her younger siblings looked to her for guidance after her parents' death as a teenager and from then on, people kind of just sensed the leader in her. She was forced into being this person at a young age—maybe too young – but eventually embraced it. The consequence was that she came off as a snobby, slightly controlling bitch who thought she was smarter than everyone else.

Almost everyone.

Violet ran a tight ship and mistakes were not tolerated, so when her sous chef Suzie ran into the kitchen with beet-red cheeks and a half-eaten plate, she was curious as to what the flustered woman would say.

"There's a man out there," Suzie whispered.

"Speak up, Suzie. I can barely hear you."

"He said his steak is undercooked."

A collective silence fell over the kitchen as everyone stopped to see what Chef V would do next. She jerked her head back and studied the steak on the returned plate.

It was cooked to perfection.

She smacked her teeth before heading to the kitchen doors to peer out of its circular windows. She scanned the restaurant briefly, trying to pick up on who she thought the picky customer might be. She usually had an eye for patrons who liked to complain in hopes of a free meal, but she couldn't quite figure it out tonight.

"Who sent it back?"

"Him...over there at table 46."

Table 46 was the best table in the house. You could see the entire city skyline from its positioning and it was purposefully tucked away for the sake of privacy. Violet had served numerous celebrities and wealthy diners at table 46. She didn't think to look over there initially. When she did, the silhouette of strong, broad shoulders caught her eye. She pushed the doors open with frustration, ready to take on this tasteless customer, but as she marched forward, more of the man's physique came into focus. And the man's physique was familiar.

His hair—locs – specifically, was finally what caused her to stop dead in her tracks. Suzie, following a bit too closely, crashed into Violet, sending the returned plate cascading to the floor. The commotion caused half the restaurant to look in their direction and had Violet not been so caught up in the man, she would have been embarrassed.

But she was caught up.

Violet audibly gasped when he turned to face her. But it wasn't him. It wasn't E. As she dismissed herself back to the kitchen, she felt a bit of sadness that the picky customer wasn't the man who so easily made her feel open enough to do things she'd never done, but always dreamed of doing—especially as it pertained to sex. Unfortunately, there was a side of her that she'd never explored. She'd never found the right person she felt safe enough to do those things with, so she fantasized about them instead. That is, until she met him.

"Just cook him another one," she flatly told Suzie, completely defeated. Her sous chef quickly got to work on a replacement steak, while Violet slipped away to her small office in the rear of the kitchen.

"You would work at a bougie ass place like this, wouldn’t you?”

His voice caused an immediate reaction from her body, though she refused to let him know it. Part of her was angry, seeing him after all this time, smiling smugly at her in her office. She stared at him sternly before speaking.

"How'd you get back here?"

"You thought that nigga was me, didn't you?"

"Ye—you didn't answer my question."

"You didn't answer mine, babygirl." Her stomach fluttered at that name. Then she thought about him figuring out her real name.

"How'd you know my name?"

"Lucky guess," he smirked. "Your name is really Violet?" He said sarcastically.

She huffed and pointed to the embroidered script of her name and title on her chef coat.

"Lucky guess, my ass. How'd you get back here, E?"

He took a seat in front of her, as confident and fine as ever. The fitted turtleneck he wore had her feeling vulnerable. A bearded gentleman in a turtleneck was something she could hardly ever resist. So this man, though far from what she considered a gentleman, would certainly be a challenge to overcome. She'd already succumb to his charm once and she couldn't blame that time on piece of clothing.

She remained standing in between his obnoxiously widespread legs. He leaned back into the cushiony chair, totally relaxed.

And in control.

"One of my girls—" he cleared his throat unnecessarily. "I know one of the hostesses."

"Why are you here? Did you know I worked here?"

"Why you asking all these questions? You not happy to see me?" He leaned forward and rested an elbow to his knee.

"I don't have time for this. You come up in here playing games on the busiest night of the week. You can see yourself out, E."

She quickly side-stepped his legs on a mission to make it to the door, but he caught her hand just before she was out of reach.

"Where are you going, Violet." His question wasn't a question at all.

"What do you want from me?" She was sincere in her query. Why'd he show up here, two months later?

"I wanna fuck you, girl. Make them pretty ass eyes roll to the back of your head again."

Them eyes—her eyes, broke contact with his and drifted to his crotch. His dick print was visible on his inner thigh. She wanted to touch it so badly. She hadn't gotten the chance to the first time.

"You see it," he smirked.

It was hard to miss.

"Got me hard as fuck watching you do your thing, Chef V," he teased.

His hand led her back in front of him.

"Maybe I'll let you boss me around one day like you do these peons in yo kitchen."

She gulped loudly when he stood up, his physical presence looming over her making her feel small again, just how she liked.

E kissed her with enough power to topple her over, but the desk was there to catch her.

He didn't stop when her position suddenly lowered under him, he just readjusted and leaned down into her. She moaned shamefully when his tongue wiggled into her mouth and his hand groped her breast. The thick chambray material of her chef jacket was getting in the way of her feeling the full sensation of his hands and it frustrated her. The way his adept fingers teased her nipples the day they met was all she could think about when she moved his hand under her top.

"I guess you did miss me, Chef V."

"Shut up," she groaned. She didn't need him reminding her of the obvious. Reminding her what she was doing was uncharacteristic and stupid.

"I missed you."

Did he really just try that playa shit on her? I missed you? The sirens she heard when she met him at his house party had officially made their return.

"I said shut up."

"Aye," his voice was calm but his eyes were ablaze.

There was a passion in them that quickly reminded her of E choking her in his workroom. She was terrified at first, but when he realized it was her and his hands loosened around her neck, she realized she very much liked the way they felt. Warm and firm.

Invigorating.

"I said you could boss me around one day, not

TO-day."

His hands roughly gripped the back of her knees and pulled her closer. Their middles met and she couldn't help but grind up against his erection as he nibbled and sucked on her lips.

"You really just came here to fuck me, E?" She managed to get out.

"Yea."

Violet didn't expect such a direct answer. She kind of wished he'd lied to her. That he told her she was special and that he wanted to get to know her.

But who was she kidding?

She didn't really want to get to know him. He was dangerous and not the type of man she could settle down with. This was all they could ever have.

Good sex.

No—great, amazing, superb sex.

Top two, not two sex.

The best sex she'd ever had.

She prayed it wouldn't be the best she would ever have. But was fantastic sex worth the space he took up in her head the last few months?

E started kissing her again, successfully distracting her from overthinking. He'd started unbuttoning her jacket when a loud knock on the door startled her. She stared at him like she was looking for him to tell her what to do. He shrugged and kissed her again.

"They'll go away," he whispered.

Another knock.

"Hold on!" She yelled, trying her best to quickly button herself back up. E rolled his eyes as he watched her frantically try to gather herself.

"...Stay," he said, calmly unbuttoning each button right after she'd fasten them. He hoped a kiss to her temple would convince her to remain in his presence a while longer. She contemplated it until she saw the handle of her office door turning.

She yanked herself loose from his grasp and stormed out of her office. She didn't even look at the person who'd been knocking. All she saw was a blur of someone in black. Violet didn't even get mad that they'd opened her door without her permission. She was grateful in a way. Grateful for an escape. God knows how long and how loud they would have been in there hunching.

She took a moment to compose herself before returning to her duties. Violet was literally hot all over. She stealthily grabbed a cup of ice from a machine towards the back of the kitchen. There was a spot just past her office that was a hideaway for her when she didn't want to be found by the few people brave enough to knock on her door, which made her wonder who knocked on her door tonight. It wasn't someone from the kitchen. All of her staff wore white. The thoughts of what the mystery person had interrupted with E quickly flooded her thoughts.

The few top buttons of her jacket were still unfastened thanks to E. She slid a piece of ice up and down her neck and across the top of her chest. Her mind raced back to him. His hot hands grazing her flesh, inching closer to her breasts. Her mind was gone and her hands, with the ice in them, were making circles over her sensitive, hardened tips. She wanted to cum so badly. She focused on him. The way his turtleneck clung to his muscular arms, hinting at the wonder that was his scar-laden body. His scent was still on her from being so close moments ago.

Mahogany.

Coconut.

Cedar.

The way his tongue explored her mouth. The way he grabbed her like she belonged to him. The ice between her fingers soon melted and her digits quickly found their way into her panties, hungrily applying pressure to her clit. It didn't take much effort to make herself cum after being deprived of him for eight weeks. The thrill of seeing him was more than enough to excite her in ways she'd never felt before.

But why?

She chuckled to herself as she washed her hands before heading back to the main area of the kitchen. He had her acting totally different and part of her liked it.

The look of relief on her sous chef Suzie's face was comical as he drew close to her.

"Thank God you're back, Chef V."

"Everything okay?"

"Yea, I guess. You know I just get nervous without you here. I just don't want anything bad to happen when you leave me in charge."

Suzie was a young woman in her mid-twenties. Violet took her under her wing because she had great potential and because she was Black. Mentoring her was the least she could do to give back to the next generation, but sometimes Suzie was a worrywart and annoyed Violet to no end. She could already feel the high of her orgasm wearing off.

"Did you remake table 46's steak?"

"Yes. He loved it."

"Okay and did the kitchen catch on fire while I was gone?" She looked around in an extra manner for added effect.

Suzie shook her head no.

"See? Everything is fine. You need to relax."

Violet took her place back at the center of the kitchen, putting finishing touches on plates in the special way she's been gifted to, and even took moments to praise or constructively critique the work of her staff. She could see how pleased they were to have her working side-by-side with them and made a mental note to have more nights in the kitchen like tonight.

Minus the part with E.

And her private moment with the ice.

***

The restaurant was not only heralded for some of the best dishes in the world, but it was also home to one of the country's most expensive delicacies—a chocolate cake covered in gold leaves. It was rare someone ordered it, because despite the wealthy clientele they served, a $15,000 dessert wasn't something people ordered every day. When Suzie told Violet table 46 had ordered the expensive ass cake, she gave her an impressed look and headed for the refrigerated safe where they kept the golden flecks.

She made her way to the back of the kitchen, just past her office and private corner. As she strolled back by her office with the gold leaves in hand, she thought she heard something — a voice — on the other side of her office door. She brushed it off and kept walking, but then remembered she never saw him leave. But to be fair, she never saw his creepy ass enter the kitchen in the first place, so whatever she thought she heard had to be her mind playing with her.

Violet dropped the leaves off with her pastry chef and tried to busy herself with work that did nothing to keep her brain from thinking about who may or may not be still in her office. Finally frustrated enough with herself and him for making her crazy, she marched back to her office, her chest filled with air and ready to go off of need be.

She flung the door open but was quickly deflated by the sight in front of her. Her eyes immediately zeroed in on E standing in the corner of her office with a woman on her knees in front of him. His brows were knitted together tightly and the intense look of pleasure on his face made her pussy throb with want. E slowly brought his eyes to Violet standing at the door watching him getting his dick sucked. She knew that he knew she had been there a few moments before giving her his attention. It felt like he knew she'd arrive at the exact time she did. Just in time for his show.

Violet stood there frozen, mouth slightly agape in a mixture of shock, jealousy and desire.

The woman on her knees wore all black and was sporting hair extensions that trailed down her back. Violet concluded she was the woman who knocked on her office door earlier, likely the hostess E slipped up and called one of his "girls." Violet could see why she was. She could suck a mean dick. The woman's mouth slowly trailed up his shaft, saliva dripping down her chin. The chef looked in awe at his cock, seeing him fully hard from this vantage point had her wondering how she took him so easily. E's dick disappeared into the hostesses' throat and it was enough to make him groan.

"Yea. Just like that." He was staring at Violet when he said it, like she was the one on her knees in front of him. The hostesses moaned at his praise, but he wasn't talking to her.

Violet had quietly closed the door behind her and was palming her sensitive breasts. Her eyes closed as she listened to the sounds in the room.

His labored breathing.

The hostesses' lude slurping and gagging.

Her own barely audible mewls.

"Look at me."

Violet knew he was talking to her without opening her eyes. Somehow, the hostess was still unaware of a third party in the room with her and E, stealing his attention from the good work she was doing on his dick.

Violet's eyes remained closed.

"Open your eyes." His command was surprisingly sweet, but laced with urgency.

"Iljshfhro," the hostess garbled. Violet assumed the woman was trying to tell E was indeed looking at him, but the hot dick in her mouth was prohibiting her from being fully understood.

Violet's eyes opened involuntarily from quietly laughing at how ridiculous the woman on her knees sounded. E smirked at Violet, unable to control his smile as he looked at her amused expression.

"C'mere, baby."

The smile had widened across his face, making the caps on his bottom row gleam against the soft lighting in the office. Perhaps the warm smile he gave her was the trick to getting her close to him. He felt relieved when she took a step forward, he was growing impatient and was dangerously close to begging her to come to him. E's desire for her had ballooned over the course of eight weeks and was on the verge of exploding. After meeting and subsequently fucking her that day, his mind frequently revisited their dalliance, sometimes in the most inopportune moments, like when he was blowing the backs out of other women. The most recent time it happened, he went fully soft inside one of his favorites when he looked down and realized she wasn't Violet.

He thought not only of the way her ample backside bounced beautifully against his scarred flesh, but of her wit and bold personality. Then there was the way he naturally felt possessive of her. E's teeth gritted together when he thought of how his homeboy looked at her gripping onto his bannister as they had sex. He came to the conclusion that he had to have her again, despite the nagging voice in his head telling him otherwise. At the least, he hoped sexing her again would get her out of his system. But in the moments when he was honest with himself, he knew the opposite was a more likely outcome.The hostess' head shifted in the direction of the door, but E's voice stopped her before she saw Violet approaching them.

"Don't look at her," he told the woman. Her head snapped back to its original positioning. E said it like he wanted to protect Violet. Like he knew Violet wouldn't be ok with the thirsty hostess knowing she was just as parched and needy for him.

E looked back at V with more tender eyes than he'd just had with the other woman. Violet was unsure if she was okay with his tone with hostess, even if it was to her advantage. Nevertheless, she moved until she was standing in front of him, the hostess wedged between them on the floor and looking to E for permission to do anything.Violet was captivated once again by his masculine beauty. And she didn't know it, but he was just as taken by her. He licked his lips as he stared at her plump ones, longing to tug and taste them again. He broke eye contact with her to look down at the pitiful soul under him. Waiting for direction on what she should do next.

"Get back to sucking my dick. Now," he commanded.

He shoved the woman's head into his groin and she happily continued gagging on him. Violet stepped even closer to him. Close enough that her stance called for her to straddle each of her feet just outside the hostesses' legs. Ever the obedient sub, the woman never looked behind her to see the woman hovering over her. She only did want he wanted, and E wanted her servicing his dick at the moment.

E reached out to grab the back of Violet's neck and kissed her feverishly. Her hands instantly found a place on his pebbled chest. The sensation of his scars against her palms sent tingles throughout her body and she fleetingly wondered again just what they meant and how he got them. She watched as he painfully pulled himself away from her and took a long look at his dick making its way in and out of the hostesses' mouth. He watched it like he didn't recognize it as an extension of himself.

"You see how fat my shit is for you?"

Violet didn't answer. She only continued staring with her lip wedged between her teeth at the scene she'd now become a part of. Her eyes struggled to keep focus on just his dick, though. E was too entrancing just to focus on one thing, even if that thing was his long, thick and currently, sinfully shiny dick.

Violet watched the way his fingers massaged the hostess' scalp while she swallowed him, making his biceps flex in a way that made Violet want to snatch the other woman off of him and take her place on her knees—mouth open and tongue out.

"You wanna suck it, don't you?"

"Yes," Violet squeaked before she realized what she was doing. E really had her caught up. She covered her mouth in shame.

He shook his head at her, laughing at her slip up. "Not yet, babygirl. Sit your cute ass over there."

Violet quickly plopped down in an upholstered chair a few feet behind her.

"Pull them titties out for me. I want to see you play with them while I cum for you."

V felt an uncontrollable shiver come over her that literally rattled every muscle in her body. It felt eerily similar to the feeling she got right before she orgasmed. She unbuttoned her chef coat and just barely touched herself. The light passes over her nipples were sending her in a way that felt as intense as squeezing them normally would. The sight before him was too much for him to hold on to any longer. E's mouth curled into the shape of an 'O' before his eyes briefly fluttered shut.

"I'm bout to cuuum...Gotdamn, shit baby."

His eyes opened to look at Violet and he pulled himself out of the hostess' mouth, preferring to use his hand to finish himself off. He tugged at his dick while looking at her gently rolling her fingertips across her engorged nipples. The waitress knew him well enough to calculate the exact moment he would cum. She stuck her tongue out in excitement and anticipation of his seed, admittedly in love with the feeling of his hot cum plastered across her face and tits. It was always her reward for being a good girl for him.

But she wouldn't enjoy one of her favorite parts of sex with him today. Instead of painting her with his orgasm, E shot his cum over her shoulder and in the direction of the woman sitting in the chair behind her. It shot out of him like nothing Violet had ever seen, so much so that some of it landed on the hem of her top. She stared down at the creamy substance and licked her lips, tempted to taste it.

"Get out." E's voice was low and void of energy. That nut took a lot out of him.

Violet remained in place, fixated on the jizz on her jacket.

"Babygirl," he called again. Violet looked up at him. His eyelids were heavy, but the look was sexy on him. He tilted his head and looked at her for a moment before shifting his head in the direction of the door. "You should leave."

"But I—," she started. He shook his head at her, silently telling her not to speak. In this moment, Violet didn't care about the waitress knowing who she was. All she cared about was staying with him. She knew what eight weeks without him was like and the yearning she felt for a man she'd only been around for a few hours was agonizing. And pitiful. She stood her ground—silently–for a few moments, hoping he'd demand the other woman to leave instead.

"Go," he told Violet once more. This time she finally turned to make her way to the door, but not before giving him a pout that she was completely oblivious of. Her feet were going one way, but her head was turned and looking at E. He kept eye contact with her until the hostess tugged on him.

"Why didn't you give me your cum?" the woman whined. "Wasn't I good for you?"

E let out a sigh, but it didn't feel like a frustrated one.

"We need to talk," he told the hostess as Violet reluctantly left them alone in her office again.

————————

I low key have no idea where this is going lol. It was a supposed to be a one shot. We’ll see what happens. Thanks for all the love on this series so far🖤

Tags

@harleycativy @queenflaws @theogbadbitch @goddessofthundathighs @syndrlla97 @soufcakmistress @killmonger-fics

[mcmystery]

Side by Side

(Mr. Brunswick is invited to a Schnee party, luckily he was given an extra invitation to bring a guess if he choose to do so. Cerise enters the party first before he does, how shall this night go?)

Arriving to the Schnee manor, Cerise followed the other guests into the main hall. Her breath was taken away by the spacious hall that was trickling in fancy guests who huddled into small groups, forming conversations and proper greetings. "Welcome, please help yourself to the food and drinks." A servant spoke to Cerise, as she was idle near the entrance of the room. "T-thank you..." she smiled and walked more into the hall. She wore a slim cherry red colored dress, that exposed her shoulders and some of her chest with a V-neck lining. The dress bottom flowed gracefully as she walked; exposing her left middle thigh down with an elegant slit that displayed her simple sophisticated black heels. As she wandered into the hall, she eyed the tables decorated with different unique spreads of hors d'oeuvres of the likes. "May I offer you a beverage?" A waiter asked Cerise, disturbing her trance of the lavish party. She saw the tray of drinks and picked one up. "Thank you!" She smiled and humbly thanked the waiter who left, repeating his question to another guest. Cerise took a sip from the glass. It tasted of a light sweet champagne. Cerise stood alone watching the crowds gather as women giggled and men shook hands or nodded with a greeting. Cerise felt completely out of place, and stood alone, sipping her champagne in small intervals, and thinking to herself. "There sure are a lot of fancy beautiful people here. I wonder when he’ll be coming in... I feel weird just being here by myself."

"Not enjoying the party?" A voice spoke from a short distance. Cerise jolted out of her inner monologue and turned to see the man she adored just a few feet away from her, also holding a glass of champagne. Cerise took a step closer to him, but he spoke out calmly halting her progression. "Best we stay separated for part of the evening. Till everyone starts to mingle more." He took a sip from his glass and kept his gaze towards the random crowd. Cerise stepped back to her place and held her glass tightly between her hands feeling awkward. "R-right..." He glanced over to her and saw her downcast appearance, "Remember, I'm supposed to be here alone this evening. The man who invited me was gracious enough to extend me a guest invitation, but I don’t think it would be wise for others to see us together. Keeping up appearances is part of my job." He spoke in a whisper, though loud enough for only Cerise's ears. Cerise looked down to her glass and watched the bubbles rise to the surface, while her feelings felt the opposite and sank down; disappointed that she wouldn't be able to spend this evening like she thought with him. She forgot about his position amongst Huntsmen and how it might seem inappropriate for him to be here with a guest like her. Especially someone so out of her element in a place like this. "Why don't you mingle around?" Mr. Brunswick stated. "Bound to meet some interesting people." "Mm... yeah, I guess so. I just feel like I stick out here." Cerise confessed. "Well, that red dress really suits you. Of course, you'll stick out.” He mentioned holding his stare away from her but grinned at his comments. “I'm sure you've already captured the attention of some individuals." Grinning as he held his posture straight as he took another sip. Cerise's cheeks blushed a bit at his compliments, though the only attention she wanted to grab was his. She didn't really care much for the others here. But as she scanned the room, she saw some individuals already eyeing her direction. Before Cerise could comment on his statement she was interrupted by an older man's voice. "Young (Mr. Brunswick’s first name)! Glad you could make it." The man was accompanied by another older man, a very particular one, dressed in a white tux and slicked back dark hair that was graying a bit under the back and slightly on the sides. "Greetings again, Professor Roothorn." Mr. Brunswick greeted in a professional tone. Cerise's heart raced a bit by the exhibition of how professional his tone changed. "Jacques, this is (First Name) Brunswick. Our new addition to our little group. I've extended the invitation to him, thought it would be nice for you two to meet." The man titled, Professor Roothorn, turned to Mr. Brunswick. "This is Jacques Schnee of the Schnee dust company. Of course, our handsome host of the evening." The gentleman, Jacques, fixed his tie a bit at the compliment, "Ho-ho, it’s too early in the evening for your flattery, Professor." Jacque said, "But I won't stop you from keeping them coming!" The two men laughed as Mr. Brunswick smiled, "It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Schnee. Quite the lovely home you have. I'm thoroughly impressed by the architecture." "Yes, well, its part of my wife's side of the family, but I have added my own personal touches here and there. But jumping off the topic, I've heard your quite the skilled Huntsmen yourself, young man." "Ah, well... hard work and perseverance go hand in hand..." Mr. Brunswick gave a quick glanced to Cerise. She got the hint, or at least an idea of it and walked away. She headed towards the table lavished with food and rare dishes. Cerise eyed a few of the unusual treats and wasn't sure what to get, fearing she wouldn't like it and end up stuck with a plate of uneaten food. She trailed her way down the long table when an unknown voice spoke to her. "Can't decide?" A male’s voice spoke next to her. Cerise looked up to see a young man peering at the table as well. A light brown hair individual who wore a fitted deep royal blue suit, along with matching vest and tie that carried the same blue color with a shimmer to its texture. "Kinda hard to choose when everything here looks so odd." Cerise giggled at his comment, more out of nervousness. The young man smiled and turned his attention more to her. "Marlott." He held out his hand. Cerise stared at it and slowly reached out to shake it, "Cerise." She pulled her hand away before he made any attempts. "Cerise? That's a cute name." Marlott commented trying to read her reaction. Cerise took another sip from her drinking trying to play off the awkwardness she felt from his compliment. "Marlott's interesting too." She glanced at him then back at the food. "Well, it’s okay." He mentioned while grabbing a small sample of food. "Mm.” He hummed as he ate the sample and his face winced slightly, “Don’t try that one, not so good. Trust me." He chuckled and displayed a flirty smile Cerise pushed a giggle. "Say, you here alone tonight?” He turned his head to her, as she turned to his question. “I'll keep you company?" Marlott asked as he closed the gap a bit between them slightly, making it seem like he was looking more at the samples of food near her. Cerise took a small step back as if readjusting her stance and kept her arms up to her chest, holding onto her drink a bit firmly. "Oh well, I actually came here with..." she was about to point at the man she most admired and saw him in a good conversation between Professor Roothorn and Jacque Schnee. She remembers what he spoke about, wanting to appearing being alone this night. "I was… invited by someone as a guest. We’re not really together, together..." "Well, I'm here? I'll be your date for the evening." He gave a smirk to her, looking down her dress and back up to her with a grin. "Ah, well..." Cerise, began awkwardly. During his conversation between Professor Roothorn and Jacques, Mr. Brunswick noticed Cerise talking to another young man. He saw how he looked at her, smiling. He became curious to what Cerise's expression was and what she might be saying to make that young individual smile at her. The other men noticed his distracted attention and followed his gaze. Roothorn spoke first, "Quite a few lovely women tonight. Any catch your eye?” When Mr. Brunswick didn’t reply because of his fixation of the view of Cerise and the unknown young man, Roothorn pinpointed his focus, “Are you interested in the one in red dress?"

Jacques swayed his glass in small circles as he looked to that direction as well, “That one certainly stands out.” He took a drink from his glass, “Perhaps she’s looking for some attention, poor thing. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard couples hit it off at our parties.” Mr. Brunswick pried his eyes away from Cerise's as much as he tried but the men before him kept their comments coming. Roothorn chuckled, "We’ll your parties are a perfect place to network, Jacques. Also, a good place for the young love to mingle, haha.”

Mr. Brunswick, while still maintaining his composure, couldn’t help clenching his jaw a bit at the thought of Cerise mingling in the way the two men were describing. He did tell her to do so. So why was seeing her talking to another individual, especially one who smiled at her with obvious intentions, tugging at him. He wants Cerise to experience meeting other people, making friends, bonds and culturing herself.

He noticed the induvial advance a bit toward Cerise and she stepped away ever so slightly. This sort of eased his mind.

“Hm, at least the lad’s trying.” Roothorn spoke, still on the subject.

“Some women like playing hard to get.” Jacques commented, “I know my wife did.” He chortled, drinking the remaining champagne from his glasses.

The concerns flared back up. Perhaps she was doing this? But it feels out of her character to do so. Maybe he didn’t know her well enough to see that side of her. Though, she seemed straight forward with him, especially making it aware about her feelings towards him. Could she be trying to redirect those feelings to another individual? Maybe someone who’s opened to accepting them and giving them back so easily, like that gentleman she’s speaking to. These questions put weight on his chest. He knows that she’s honest. She’s bold and open to people, so kindhearted and always willing to help those in need. Perhaps keeping her in limbo about his reply to her feelings wasn’t good at all. But what is he supposed to tell her? Being a huntsman, having this job, it’s too risky to get people involved. Involved with his duties, involved in his life. He’s come to appreciate her company, find comfort in it. Though is that all she is to him? Comfort? Decent company? Or is there something more that he feared. Becoming attached and losing it all.

Music began to play in the large hall and the tunes of the instruments bounced all around the walls. Couples started heading to the floor and commenced in formal dancing. Some men approached women and took their hands to the dance floor. Some women approached the men and had them lead the pair to the floor. “E-excuse me?” A young woman approached the three men, breaking Mr. Brunswick from his deep thoughts. She stood in front of the three but most of her direction was pointed towards him. “I would like a dance.” She spoke with confidence as she looked directly at Mr. Brunswick with a soft smile.

“Apolog-” He began his decline as Professor Roothorn pushed him towards the young woman.

“Go on, lad! Live a little! Can’t go denying a woman who approach you so honestly.” Roothorn boasted with a hearty laugh.

Mr. Brunswick halted before being pushed too close to the unknown young lady. Approaches me so honestly. He held that statement and peered over to Cerise’s direction. The young lady before him blushed a bit at the closeness but brought her hand out. He gave a half smile as he handed over his glass to Professor Roothorn. He took the young lady’s hand and guided her to the dance floor. As they stood before each other, he did a traditional bow as she curtsied, then began their dance with the rest of the prancing crowd.

“Well… I’m fine not having a date tonight. Just trying to mingle,” Cerise emphasized the word mingle with an awkward playful tone, “and meet some new people, I suppose.”

“Aw, come on. I’m not so bad…” Marlott trailed off his sentence as music started to flood the air. Cerise also caught this and watched as couples began to spread across the floor and sway to the melody of the tunes.

Both watched as soon as the floor swirled with dancing partners and flowy dresses. Cerise glanced over to the man that was always on her mind and saw him taking the hand of a young women. Her heart sank as she watched them start to dance and follow the pattern of the others.

She looked back down to her glass, rubbing the rim of it with her thumb and stayed in dull stated. Marlott took notice and pouted because of her silence and retreat. He looked around a bit but didn’t really find anyone else who gained his attention like how Cerise did. He looked back to her.

“Let’s mingle then. How about a dance? I’m pretty light on my feet.” He tuned playfully. Drawing out his hand to her. Cerise looked at it, then to Marlott, which brought her attention back to the dance floor seeing her unrequited love dance away, and then to her hand. Which to only her view saw the red string sway with his movements away from her.

Cerise held her glass with both hands again. “Sorry…” She gave an apologetic smile up at Marlott, “I don’t really feel like dancing... Thank you though.”

Marlott awkwardly kept his hand out, “You sure…? I promise it’ll be fun.”

“That’s kind of you, but no thank you.” She stated a bit firmer and gave a painful smile.

Marlott frowned a bit but shrugged his shoulders, retreating his hands into his pockets. “Alright then.” He looked away from her and saw some other choices to choose from. “Well, later then.”

Cerise looked up as he strode away towards another group of young women.

During Mr. Brunswick’s dance with his unknown partner, he took slight glances towards where he last saw Cerise. He saw the man close to her take an advance again towards her. He became fixated on their body language. The gentleman appeared to be asking her to dance. Mr. Brunswick turned away during the traditional dance but came back to seeing Cerise declining the invitation and the young man walking away from her. She only looked down at her glass and held herself reserved. No usual upbeat smile, no glimmering eyes of excitement. Just there standing, alone.

He stopped his dance and took a bow to his partner. “It was lovely dancing with you, thank you for your time.” Giving his thanks with kindness to the young lady. The young woman, flustered by the sudden halt, replied with curtsy and a jumbled thank you as she watched him walk towards the table of sample dishes.

Cerise kept her head down as she watched the red string, only visible to her sway little by little until it stopped and stayed still pointing forward. Curious by the movements she looked up. Mr. Brunswick approached Cerise and offer his hand to her. She looked at it a bit puzzled.

“Would you be interested in a dance?” He asked with a slight natural charm.

"Um... are you sure?” She spoke in a hushed tone. “I thought you wanted to seem like you came here alone tonight?" He raised his eyebrows surprised that she didn't jump at the chance to dance. Instead he saw her become more reserved and holding her glass closer to her. He gave an apologetic smile, feeling bad for putting her in this situation when he invited her to tonight's event; knowing she was looking forward to having a nice time. "Well, I've already danced with someone tonight. I'm sure no one would think twice about me mingling this evening. Dancing away with lovely young ladies." Again, holding out his hand. Cerise looked at it and gave a small smile, she cued a waiter over to take her empty glass and as the waiter left, she turned to the tall gentleman in front of her. Heart fluttering and with a growing smile, she placed her hand in his and he guided her to the dance floor. As they entered the floor, he stopped in front of Cerise. Other couples danced around them with the music. Cerise stood there a bit awkward as he did a small bow and lent his hand out again. Out of instinct Cerise gave him a low high five. Smacking it loudly with earnest feelings. Mr. Brunswick's eyes widen a bit of embarrassment as the slapping sound caught some of the dancing couple’s attention and gave Cerise some odd looks. He leaned down towards to her and whispered, "Cerise? Do you not know how to dance?" Cerise straightened up, with a glee smile and hands on her hip as she replied, "Oh, I know how to dance. It’s just back home we dance more like..." pointing up, giving him a comedic thinking bubble of her and some villagers dancing freely to upbeat music. She brought his attention back as the thought bubble popped, leaning towards him, and coving the side of her mouth as though sharing a gossip, "Seriously, is there a special class everyone here takes to dance the same?" He chuckled at her statement. He saw some truth to what she meant, though these dances are just passed down from generation to generation from what he knows. "It’s just something everyone learns to pick up. Here." Taking her hand in his and placed her other hand on his shoulder. He took her waist and brought them a bit closer which placed a subtle blush on Cerise's cheek. "Think of this as when we train. Follow my movements. I'll go slowly." He grinned as he began to step into the dance steps. Cerise looked down at his feet to watch his steps. She carefully followed but stumbled a bit here and there trying to memorize the movements. Slowly she caught on to the pattens of the steps, grinning as she got the hang of it. "That's good, now a twirl." He mentioned and let the space between them drift apart so Cerise could be guided into the twirl. She smiled at the feeling as she came back to their original position and continued their steps. Cerise giggled as she followed his steps a bit easier now. "See you got it." He smiled as they danced in place a bit. "Now, let's follow the rest of them, shall we?" "Okay!" Cerise peered up at him with glimmer in her eyes at this fun new experience. He took the lead and they danced along with the rest of the couples. They made fun graceful strides. Cerise laughed at the fun sensation of being dipped here and twirled there. Her dancing partner had fun as well; enjoying her amusement in the dance and how bright and blissful her smile really suited her nature. He was impressed by her quick learning as she gracefully took the steps and made them her own. Adding a charm to every turn, a skip to every step. She really did know how to dance and adapted it to her own personality. At this point he wasn't sure what made his heart race: the dancing or Cerise's fun and carefree nature. He lost sight of the outside world, lost sight of the people, the place. He only kept Cerise in his view and nothing else caught his attention. Even his worries and regrets, his duties became faint in his mind. He so badly wanted this feeling to continue, no worries or concerns. Just this blissful feeling, this moment he felt like himself and only himself. Seeing her prance at his side, being by her side made his heart pound that much more. He swung her out, still holding hands tightly and pulled her back in to him, as she did a few twirls till he caught her, she brought her arm to wrap behind his neck for support and finished their dance with a soft dip that froze in place. Cerise looked up at him as he held her. Her eyes dilated as she gazed into those eyes that made her heart soar. He kept his eyes on hers and appreciated the deep blue color that calmed his heart and soul. He caught his breath a bit as a confession was about to spill out, "I..." Clapping soon erupted all around them. Both Cerise and him looked around and noticed everyone clapping from the presentation of their dance along with the other couples. He brought himself and Cerise back up during the applause.  Clearing his throat and gave a small bow to Cerise. She mimicked the other women and gave an awkward curtsy. As they left the dance floor to find something to drink, Cerise gave him a shy glance. He seemed to be catching his breath a bit, but his face still looked composed. She on the other hand felt her face flustered, hopefully he believed it was from dancing, but to her it was more than just that. "I'll, um... get us some refreshments." He looked over to her, "Would you like something to drink?" Cerise nodded with a bit of embarrassment as she still felt her face hot. "M-mhm!" He smiled back and hesitated to leave her side but pulled himself away to retrieve a beverage for her. Cerise watched him stroll away, already missing his presence. Watching his back as his dark messy hair made her heart swell. She quickly followed behind him and caught his sleeve. He turned gently to see her. "Maybe it's okay to go with you? I'm sure no one would think twice about you having a good time this evening, mingling with a young lady you just danced with..." Cerise looked down hiding her blush and smitten smile. He grinned, "Of course. Shall we?" He hinted towards the drinks. Cerise nodded looking up at him. She stayed by his side and he stayed by hers. And for the rest of the evening they stayed side by side.

[fandom-necromancer]

Late Night City Drive

Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077 | Ship: Delamain/fem!V&Johnny (Warning: Slight body horror in the first two paragraphs you can skip)

The sounds of bullets piercing into concrete and breaking glass followed her as she slid down the slope. The rough material reamed her skin and clothes, but the impending danger behind her was worse than the pain. And then came the fall. The endless fall with air rushing past her as the ground came closer and closer at terrifying speeds. Every second she would collide with the ground and feel the excruciating pain of broken bones and cracked skin. But the moment never came, there was just the fear of it coming for her any second now and the endless time spent on imagining how her body would warp and crack once it came. As time had stretched on enough, she finally collided, but not in a way she had thought to. She had fallen onto a heap of garbage bags filled to the brim with stinking waste. The impact of her fall made her sag into the mass, the foul smell causing her to gag and fight, but the mass was overwhelming and struggling only made it worse.

Suddenly there were hands on her. She looked behind herself and startled as she found herself face to face with her friends. Her dead friends. Jackie looked at her from glassy eyes, mouth distorted with blood still dripping from his lips. His hands were cold, so cold. They were the icy unmoving hands of the dead trying to grip her and pull her with them like she deserved. Behind him there stood T-Bug, eyes charcoal holes in her skull and the back of her head missing. She gripped V too, pulling her forwards and throwing her into a mass of bodies, one reeking worse than the next and all of them holding onto her with their cold dead hands. V struggled against it with all her strength, but stayed afloat only for a few moments. It was enough time to look back at Jackie and T-Bug, both of them smiling at her. ‘You killed us, V. Now join us.’ And then she was pulled under.

She jolted up with a gasp, the feeling of suffocating in a million dead bodies overwhelming her as she forced air in and out. With shaking hands, she hugged her torso, trying to shake off the feeling of countless fingers on her. Her whole body was aching at the tension and she was sure to throw up when her vision glossed over, streaks of turquoise code distorting her surroundings and gifting her with stinging headache on top of the pain that already shook her. V pressed her eyes close and swallowed to keep the bile down, knowing she just had to sit this one out. The malfunction of the relic would soon subside, and she would be able to live in her own body again.

‘Urgh, Fuck.’ She rubbed at her face, fingers caught in the familiar rim of her chrome. ‘V.’ ‘Shut the fuck up!’, the mercenary shouted, lifting up her hand signalling the ghost, the virus, the fucking splinter that would kill her in the long run, to better follow her order this time. Not that she could do much should Johnny choose to appear again. But at least she still had control over her body and could force him to disappear. ‘Just shut up, you already did enough’, she added silent this time, stood up and grabbed her gun and some clothes to throw over. She didn’t bother washing or checking the time, she knew it was the middle of the night anyways and that there was no way she would be able to fall asleep any time soon. She knew exactly what she needed, and she needed it now.

The elevator ride down to street level couldn’t be fast enough for her, already calling her car and slipping past the masses of people still on the street despite the hour to hop in. She relaxed only as she slammed the door shut and sunk into the comfortable driver’s seat. ‘Where can I bring you today?’ V just sunk deeper, staring out of  the window up into the night sky barred by skyscrapers, roads and glaring neon lights. She closed her eyes almost like in pain and appreciated once again the AI had the patience of… well, of an immortal computer program. ‘Just get me…’ She sighed deeply. ‘Just get me anywhere, Del. Outside the city. Badlands.’ ‘Of course.’

She felt the hum of the engine get louder and the seat press into her back as the car drove off. She watched the city pass her by while Delamain changed the radio to more silent, softer tunes than she normally listened to. In nights like these it was easy to forget how brutal Night City could be. If you drove through her streets, no more than an anonymous passenger of uncountable others, it seemed near impossible that underneath that beauty, underneath that architectural artwork and the bright glamourous lights hid an ugly monster half-dead but still hanging on to every piece that kept it alive and clawing at everything that tried to take it out of its misery. Was she any different to this shithole she lived in? She had been dead already and now she was living on borrowed time. She was no better than the tumour infesting this city. ‘Your little mercenary friends aren’t the problem here.’ V furrowed her brows in anger. ‘Did I fucking ask you for your opinion?’ ‘Hey, no need to get bitchy. Just saying the corporations are killing this city, the criminal basis is just a by-product of an uncaring world.’ ‘Shut the fuck up!’, V shouted furiously. ‘I just want my peace for once! Isn’t it enough you will kill me in the end? Just show a bit of patience and wait until I’m dead!’

‘I didn’t say anything.’ V sighed and concentrated on the world passing by. They were on their way out already, the highway leading to the border. ‘I know, Del’, she sighed quietly. ‘Then who were you talking to?’ ‘No one. Sorry.’ For a moment it was silent except for the rumble of the wheels and the hum of the engine as they passed the stone front that looked almost like a barrier separating Night City from nomad territory. ‘May I ask what brings you out into the Badlands in the middle of the night?’ V rubbed her forehead and looked outside the side window. ‘I had a nightmare’, she whispered then. She noticed the digital particles from Johnny’s presence and already braced for another unnecessary, cocky comment. But instead he just sat there next to her.

‘Apparently dying isn’t something the brain can easily process’, she added, maybe out of spite to jab at the construct that was killing her. ‘I’m afraid I can’t deliver any personal experience to that’, Delamain commented. ‘But if desired I can get in contact with several therapeutic-‘ ‘No’, V interrupted. ‘No, that won’t be necessary. I don’t have time for that. Just… Just let me drive for a while.’ ‘As you wish. I will disable automatic driving.’

V sat up and took over wheel and pedals. She sighed, relaxing her shoulders and accelerating just a bit more. For a quiet while it was just her and the road. Then Delamain spoke up once again: ‘I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude, but how is this helping you?’ ‘It’s…’ V risked a look over to Johnny’s projection, who shrugged and looked out of the window. ‘Some old habits die hard’, she explained finally. ‘I’m a nomad after all. Whenever the family argued or I simply had enough, I would took my car for a ride. Some days there is no better friend to have than your car and the road beneath you. Makes you feel free. Makes you feel like you’re just one of many, coming from somewhere and driving somewhere else. No one cares where that might be, you are just out there on the road, your car a little part of home.’

‘That sounds fucking lonely if you ask me.’ ‘That sounds… interesting’, Delamain said and seemed to mean it. ‘I don’t know if I understand but I will keep it in mind.’ ‘Fucking people pleaser.’ V sighed and switched stations to Morro Rock. The shock of the nightmare had subsided and now she needed distraction, not calmness. ‘It’s better than drowning your problems in alcohol.’ ‘Always worked for me’, Johnny shrugged, but smiled faintly as the radio began playing the old Samurai songs. ‘Shut up’, V replied. ‘Maybe we can do that later.’

She turned from a dusty side road to a main highway that would eventually lead her back to Pacifica and decided to test out just what Delamain hid under that hood. Seeing the needle of the speedo climb higher and higher and feeling the satisfying pressure in her back, she turned up the volume and watched the completely empty street speed towards her. The streetlights flickered past one after the next while the engine roared and the car climbed up the small slope of a hill.

She enjoyed the ride as long as it lasted and slowed down once they reached streets with more traffic. Soon they would reach Pacifica and V felt exhaustion crawling up at her once again. ‘Should I take over again?’, Delamain asked and V nodded, letting go of the wheel. ‘Are you feeling better?’ ‘Yes, I do. Thank you, Del.’ ‘I didn’t do much, but I’ll take the praise, nonetheless. Should I drive you back to your apartment?’ ‘Yeah. Guess I’ll try to get some more sleep.’ She leaned back in her seat and yawned heartily. ‘Hopefully without nightmares, this time.’

‘You are not at fault for their death’, Johnny interrupted the peace and V felt far too tired to start another fight. ‘Yeah, maybe not’, she sighed. ‘But it doesn’t change the fact that they are dead and I’m alone.’ She had a hard time keeping her eyes open with the monotone sound of the engine and the gentle sway from the suspension. ‘Doesn’t matter anyway’, she mumbled, already half asleep. ‘Gonna be dead in a few months no matter what.’ She turned a bit to the side to lay more comfortably against the curve of the chair, drifting off to sleep already. It would keep her wondering later if she had just imagined the words Johnny spoke in a surprisingly concerned tone for the asshole.

‘Not if I can help it.’

[puppy-prose]

How about jaskier is a dragon and determines that Geralt is very much his mate. He wants to make it official by fucking on the summer solstice, as dragons do to get married/bond. Geralt, not knowing that he's Jaskier's mate, is v. Confused when the bard starts pawing at his clothes and whining for his cock and that talk about "make me yours Geralt" but is Very Into It once he realizes just what's going on

ahh my first request!! thank you so, so much!! i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!!

Geralt was a witcher—a very good witcher. He could sniff out a bruxae from a mile away; he could track down a wyvern from only a few drops of blood. He knew the differences between rotfiends and ghouls and alghouls, he knew how many spikes were on a manticore’s tail, he knew how to identify and defeat hundreds of monsters, creatures, and beasts of myth. 

So, logically, Geralt knew he was a dragon. Jaskier was sure of it. Right?

He didn’t do a very good job of hiding it. How anyone thought he was human baffled him. He hoarded songs and scents, with his precious lite at the center of it all. Notebooks filled to the brim with lyrics and lines—not all of them his. Bags, once he had settled in with Geralt enough to trust him with it, that were always packed with oils, bath salts, and ointments. His temper, too, easy to flare, but easy to forgive. His affinity for shiny, pretty things. And perhaps the most damning of it all, the way he didn’t always act human. The half-raw meat that he never had a problem devouring; the way he always managed to find his way back to Geralt every spring without fail, no matter where on the Continent the witcher was. His unchanged youthful looks, years and years after they met.

So, Jaskier was reasonably certain, Geralt knew what he was. He’d simply not said anything because it was easier—because Geralt disliked honest and open conversations like that. So Jaskier didn’t bother to bring it up either, content in his companion’s silent acceptance. 

But truth be told, Jaskier wanted more. 

So he asked for it. Subtly, of course. Geralt wasn’t an emotional man—going to him and declaring his love wasn’t exactly an option. So Jaskier started slow, poking and prodding, testing his interests through his kind’s courting traditions. And when his first gift—a pair of gloves made from his own scales, the proud jeweled red dulled and dyed purposefully to keep Geralt safe when he was out stalking beasties—was accepted with a huff, a tiny smile, a roll of the eyes, and Geralt taking awfully good care of them, Jaskier knew his affections were accepted. Perhaps even returned. 

More gifts, more rituals followed. Ointments of his favorite scents, carefully diluted for a witcher’s nose, to sooth his dry hands. Intricate braids done during baths, telling stories in his hair; Dutch braids for devotion, crown braids for loyalty, fishtail braids for patience, lace braids for fidelity, with all of them begrudgingly left alone until the next time he desperately needed a bath. The vernal equinox celebrated together by getting awfully drunk on honey wine, procured from the fae themselves. 

And lastly, a final gift that could be an equivalent to a human’s engagement ring, he offered to Geralt a plaited bracelet made up of his lute strings, worn and representative of himself, a piece of his prized treasure and a piece of himself practically along with it. And Geralt? Well, Geralt accepted. He wore that bracelet every day, even if he pretended, quite transparently, to be only humoring Jaskier and nothing else. And that was that. 

They were mates. 

And today was the summer solstice.

--

Jaskier was antsy. Then again, Geralt was of a mind that Jaskier was always antsy. Fidgety and twitchy, always moving. Like a hummingbird, he thought. It was as if Jaskier expected himself to die if he fell still for even a single minute. But no. This was a different kind of antsy. He’d been extra energetic all day. It was as endearing as it was annoying--though he’d never admit to it.

He’d been whining about leaving the city all day, too. The little bird, always ready to fly away when bored. Gods, Geralt had a hard time hiding his small smiles as Jaskier went on about the boring foods, as he tried to bother him into heading out to the next town as soon as possible. But he’d had to hunt, unfortunately; the city had been plagued with a manticore on its outer regions, and Geralt needed the coin. So he’d had the bard wait for him at the tavern, taken care of the issue, and came back in need of a bath. Jaskier, never one to turn down a bit of pampering whether it was for himself or other people, was happy enough to do so, and they left the city on Jaskier’s insistence in the late afternoon, Geralt’s hair pulled back into a dragon’s braid. 

While he’d expected Jaskier to calm as they got further away from the city, the opposite quickly proved itself true. He became more agitated, more twitchy. It prickled at the sense of amusement and content that generally followed him when Jaskier was involved, and as the sun was setting, Geralt finally pulled to a stop, leading them off into a copse of trees. “Go get wood for a fire,” he told Jaskier, hoping getting the man to sleep early that night would fix the issue. “I’ll find us something to eat.” 

Together, they set up camp. Geralt had a rabbit caught quickly enough, roasted it over the open fire, and the two of them ate. All throughout the meal, Jaskier jabbered as usual--but his foot kept tapping, his fingers kept rubbing together, his words kept stumbling over themselves. And as the sun disappeared beneath the trees, Geralt caught a whiff of burnt rosemary and sweat. For whatever reason, Jaskier was getting himself worked up.

With a frown, concern marring his brow, Geralt used the tip of his boot to push into the meat of Jaskier’s thigh. “What’s wrong?” he demanded, leaving no room for argument. He wasn’t going to allow the bard to wriggle out of this--not when he’d been acting strangely all day.

Cornflower blue eyes turned up to his. “What? Oh--s’nothing.” Jaskier smiled. “Just a bit nervous, I suppose.”

The witcher’s brow arched. “Nervous?” he repeated. Yes, he could smell that. But he hadn’t expected Jaskier to give that feeling up so easily. “What about?”

“Oh, you know.” Jaskier waved his hand at the sky, his eyes catching--glinting--in the rising moon’s light. “Today was the summer solstice.”

Geralt wasn’t following. He blinked. They’d spent many solstices together. Not winter ones; not yet. One day… But plenty of summer ones. “Why?”

Whether it was the right or the wrong thing to say, Geralt couldn’t tell. It drew a laugh from his bard, slightly hysterical though, and he suddenly found himself with Jaskier’s full attention. He didn’t have that very often. The little bird flitted about here and there; he paid attention to Geralt, all the time, but to put all of his focus on him? To see those blue eyes turn focused and determined, to feel Jaskier staring into his very soul? Yeah, that was a bit intimidating. 

“Silly witcher,” Jaskier replied. “This is why, of course.”

In the next moment, too quick for even Geralt’s senses to catch it--though that was likely due to surprise more than anything else--Jaskier was right before him. His breath got stuck in his throat--and then they were kissing. 

Gods, Geralt had dreamed of Jaskier’s mouth on his for years. He’d wondered what it tasted like--sweet like the wine he was so fond of? Fruity and full from his dietary preferences? Deep and heady as the forest that Jaskier continued to force himself into with dogged determination? But no. He’d been wrong. It was, somehow, all of those things, and more. 

He drew back a little for breath at one point, hardly registering that he’d lifted his hand to cup the nape of Jaskier’s neck, that his precocious little bird had pushed his way between his legs, on his knees before the log Geralt was sitting on. But Jaskier didn’t let him go for even long enough to open his eyes, dragging him back into another kiss. It was searing and hot, really hot, and he gave a soft, involuntary groan. 

Finally, though, Jaskier moved back. It was only so he could tug and pull at the leather of Geralt’s armor, swearing under his breath as he pulled at the stubborn closures, swaying close to him and interrupting his own progress. But even with Geralt’s head still reeling from the sudden makeout session, even with him bemused by Jaskier’s usually smooth seducing capabilities turned into him fumbling with a jerkin, he didn’t miss the fact that Jaskier did not look like Jaskier. 

Two horns, ivory, ridged in a spiral growing pattern, protruded from Jaskier’s head. They curved back and downwards towards his skull, before turning back up towards the night sky, the tips deadly sharp. Red scales were slowly emerging from his skin to smatter over his cheeks like rouge, like a glamor being revealed bit by bit, Geralt’s medallion not so much as twitching--ancient magic, powerful magic that slipped by even his detection. And he was fumbling, the witcher realized, because his nails had sharpened, those same jewel-toned scaled stretching up the backs of his hands, disappearing up the pale blue of his doublet. 

“Dammit,” Jaskier whined, impatience thick on him, the nervous scent already beginning to fade away. “Just want you to fuck me, and this stupid--this--fuck!” He turned his eyes up to Geralt, cat-slit pupils just like the witcher’s own blown in the dark of the night, wide with his desire. “Geralt, please,” he begged, leaning in for another kiss--a kiss that Geralt didn’t refuse. And not just because he was caught off-guard by the novel sensation of being kissed with a newly forked tongue. “Please,” he continued when they broke apart, rubbing his cheek against his like a cat, like he was scenting him, the scratch of the scales not at all painful, instead kind of… Nice? “C’mon, help me, please, need you in me so bad…”

A lot of things clicked together in that moment.

Jaskier’s quick loyalty. His ability to walk hours and hours every day, nonstop. His music, the notebooks that he filled and then sent back to Oxenfurt to be kept safe. The bag of oils and creams that Geralt had not been allowed to so much as touch until two years ago, while they’d been traveling together for over a decade. 

The gloves. The vernal equinox. The braids.

Fuck, the bracelet. 

Jaskier saw him as his mate. And he’d been courting him, quietly, without drawing attention to it, for months now. And here they were--Jaskier believing him to have accepted his claim, Jaskier looking to seal their relationship by bonding on the night of the summer solstice, tying them together by the ancient magics of the earth for many, many centuries to come. No wonder the poor bard had been nervous.

Geralt was sort of glad he only realized now what was going on, because he knew he would have been nervous, too.

The revelation settled under his skin with surprising ease. Vesemir, should he ever catch word of how long it took him to identify a dragon that had been living side by side with him for years, would tan his hide. But all Geralt could feel was relief. His little hummingbird--or, he supposed, his little dragon, now--wasn’t going to suffer a mortal’s tragically short life. He’d live for hundreds of years more, thousands even, if he didn’t get himself killed first. And Geralt? Geralt could have every single one of those years if he accepted this. If he chose to become Jaskier’s mate.

It wasn’t really a choice at all.

Geralt’s calloused hand took Jaskier’s chin between his fingers. He dragged him up into another kiss, swallowing down the keen that fell between them, and nipped at Jaskier’s bottom lip as they pulled away. “Needy,” he huffed, a smile twitching at his mouth. He dropped his own hands to his armor; it got tossed to the forest floor quickly, Jaskier’s hands immediately setting upon the pale, scarred skin of his soon-to-be mate.

Feeling a bit vindictive for the years that Jaskier had never outright told him what he was, Geralt got hold of the bard’s doublet. He jerked the edges of it, eyes twinkling in satisfaction as the buttons popped off, no chance against his strength. “Hey,” Jaskier reprimanded, the seriousness he intended to put in his voice severely undercut by the breathy way it came out. “I liked this doublet.”

“I’ll get you a new one,” the witcher replied. 

It brought a smile to his wicked, wicked mouth, and Geralt dove in for yet another bruising kiss. He pushed the doublet off Jaskier’s shoulders, the satin dropping into the dirt with as much care as his armor had gotten, and he managed to wrestle his chemise off between wet kisses. His mouth was red and wet when he pulled back; Geralt didn’t resist the urge to cup his cheek, to drag his thumb over the abused bottom lip. Jaskier, eyes dark, quickly sucked his thumb into his mouth. He had fangs now, Geralt noted absently, pressing the pad down onto his tongue until Jaskier was forced to open his mouth wide. He rubbed a small arc over the muscle, the dragon obediently still. It didn’t stop him from whimpering when drool pooled and dripped from the sides of his mouth, though. 

His thumb was soaked when he pulled it from Jaskier’s tongue. He looked gorgeous--pupils dilated and wanting, chin glistening from the spit, the red of his scales seeming to bleed into the rest of his face for the way his skin was flushed with lust. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier begged. “Please.” 

So Geralt went.

He wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s middle and pushed him back, back, supporting his weight to keep him from slamming into the ground, but none too gentle otherwise. The roughness seemed to excite Jaskier; he moaned and wrapped his legs around the witcher’s waist, those clawed hands finding purchase behind his shoulders. Geralt didn’t mind the sting. He licked his way into Jaskier’s mouth yet again, and then let his mouth trail down, exploring the other parts of him. His scales were rough against his tongue and he had to be mindful of the direction he went to avoid getting scratched; his jaw and throat were velvety soft and tasted of sweet orange and a deep earthy musk. Jaskier’s pulse fluttered under his lips, and he paid special attention to the edges of the scales that had appeared along his collarbone as well, the dragon shivering with delight. 

“Fuck me,” Jaskier pleaded. Geralt reached down between them; his hand was hot over top of Jaskier’s trousers, palming his cock underneath, making the bard’s babbling turn into high pitched whining, hips rocking up. 

“Be patient,” he scolded, biting into his throat, watching a bruise blossom there. What was the use in having a dragon as a mate if he didn’t indulge in his own more animalistic urges? Yes, by the end of tonight, he’d have Jaskier claimed just as thoroughly as Jaskier had claimed him. 

The bard stammered, bereft, when Geralt moved his hand. He forewent telling him to be patient again, instead hooking his fingers into Jaskier’s trousers and yanking them down, shifting until he could get them and his boots and his smallclothes off all in one go. More ruby scales wrapped around the outside of his thighs, dipped into the hollows of his hips--and his dick was definitely part of pieces of him that hadn’t quite stayed human.

Thick, red, ridged, and with a pointed tip, Geralt couldn’t help but smirk as he drew it into his hand. His little dragon cried out and he watched, fascinated, as a pearly few drops of precum beaded at the slit. It wasn’t anything like he’d fantasized about, when he’d taken himself in hand in his weaker moments when the bard was asleep, imagining what Jaskier’s cock might look like. But it was good, better than good, better than anything he could have dreamed of. Smearing his thumb into the wetness, he spread it down Jaskier’s cock, dragging his hand up and down the shaft. A few more drops appeared from the attention, and he did the same with those as well, slicking him up nicely. 

He dropped his hand away, then, to get rid of the rest of his own clothes. Most people didn’t like to see him without clothes. Certainly, they enjoyed his figure, but the scars--the crisscrossing of monsters’ marks, the hunts that had gone wrong, the people that had hunted him instead painting a gruesome picture across his skin. But with Jaskier, it had never been like that. He’d never been bothered. And, considering he was about to fuck a man with scales all over, horns, and a dragon dick, Geralt supposed he wasn’t bothered, either. 

Bare at last, Geralt dragged Jaskier’s hips up close. He wrapped his hand around them both, only just managing it really, and the both of them groaned at the sensation. Heat flourished between them and he jerked them off, stretching out over him to bite his stomach, his chest, his shoulders, his neck. Yes, Jaskier would be a patchwork of bruises come tomorrow morning, and by the way he jerked into each one of them, Geralt had no doubt that he was just as enthusiastic about that prospect as he was. 

But as good as this was, it certainly wasn’t what either of them wanted. So he let go soon, smirking again as he wiped the sticky precum on his hand onto Jaskier’s thigh. “Knees,” he commanded, leaning back onto his own so he could reach for Jaskier’s bag. Might as well use what he had there, after all. Being his mate meant being privy to his hoard. 

For perhaps the first time in his life, Jaskier listened to him. He keened but turned over, propping his hips up onto his knees. His shoulders pressed low, nearly to the dirt, and he rested his forehead on his wrists, the upturn of his horns just barely above the ground. 

Geralt came back to him with a vial of lilac oil. It was one of the ones he’d begun to create for Geralt--that was to say, the scent was heavily diluted, only just strong enough for a hint of smell in consideration of his nose, and perfect for their purposes. He uncorked the vial and used his knees to open Jaskier’s legs wider; his free hand pulled one side of his ass away, leaving him free to get at his puckered hole, where he then dripped the oil down onto. Jaskier gasped and lurched, the liquid no doubt cold, but the witcher held him firm. He lathered up his own fingers, set the glass to the side, and leaned over top of him, licking and kissing the dragon’s scaled shoulder blades as he slowly, slowly sank a finger inside him. 

“Geraaaalt!” Jaskier cried. Gods, if he was already this desperate, panting into the dirt and shivering with a single digit, Geralt couldn’t imagine how he’d be once he actually had his cock inside him. 

“Lucky this is what it is,” he huffed, dragging Jaskier’s ear into his mouth and relishing the cry that came from it. “Otherwise I’d gag you and tie you down, make you learn some patience.” The dragon’s response was to moan wetly, shoulders shuddering, his tapered cock twitching. 

Geralt pressed in a second finger, then. He kept his attention with those bites, scissoring him open, loosening him up. A third joined swiftly after; gods, they were mating, not just fucking. He was going to make sure this was good for Jaskier.

Finally, finally Jaskier was loose enough. He pulled his fingers out and grabbed the vial again, using the rest of it to slick up his cock, the subtle scent sweet between them. His hands found Jaskier’s hips; the dragon’s stomach dropped down further, ass staying in the air. “Breathe,” he said kindly. He waited until Jaskier drew a shaky breath in, out, and then in again before lining up his cock and pushing inside. 

The cry of Geralt’s name was more broken syllables than anything, too loud and desperate to pronounce much of it correctly. “Fuck,” Geralt himself said, bending over the dragon. “Fuckin’ tight, Jask. Godsdammit.” He was so fucking tight, so hot around him, his body giving way each inch to the witcher’s intrusion. Jaskier could only mewl in return, his nails clawing into the rich earth, his sides heaving with each panting breath. 

He bottomed out, and stayed there for a moment. Being inside Jaskier was dizzying, wonderful; he swore he could feel the air turn lighter around them, easier to breath, sparks flickering underneath his skin. Was this the ancient magic, readying to bind them? Or was this just Jaskier, was it just the fact that finally, he could give in to the feelings he’d ignored for so long, the urges he’d repressed, now that he knew not only did Jaskier feel the same way in return, but that he wouldn’t have to face his demise in what would be, for him a blink of the eye? He wasn’t sure. And, well. Quite frankly, in this moment, Geralt didn’t really give a shit.

“Fuck me,” Jaskier finally managed to say. “Geralt, my mate, please, please! Breed me, fill me up, wanna be yours!”

The words shot through him and what little patience he had left quickly fled. “You want to be bred, little dragon?” he asked, fingers tightening, bruising Jaskier’s hips. “Fine.”

A single kiss to his throat, and then Geralt pulled out to just the head of his cock. In one smooth, brutal motion, he slammed back into Jaskier. It sent the dragon rocking forward a few inches--it sent him roaring, the mighty sound seeming to shake the very trees around them. It was fucking hot, Geralt had to admit, and he groaned before he did it again, and again, setting a merciless pace. He’d never been much of a talker during sex, but he found himself rambling now, bearing his weight down on Jaskier, driving into that tight, wet heat. 

“Like it, don’t you, Jask?” he asked, breathing too hard himself to properly bite for the moment, little strands of hair come loose from his braid and before his face, making him look wild, animalistic. “Wanna be bred like the bitch that you are. Fucked in the dirt. Look at you. Such a noble, proud beast. Taking every inch of a beast-slayer’s cock.” Jaskier sobbed, the sound wet, but he kept rocking his hips back into every thrust. They’d traveled together far too long; after the nights Geralt had been forced to listen to through thin inn doors, he knew better than anyone how rough, cruel words could reduce the bard to putty in any man’s hand. The best part? Now they were his hands. And there would never be anyone else. 

The thrill of the thought shot through him. Geralt wrapped his arm tight around his middle; his other hand reached up, grabbing onto the base of one of Jaskier’s horns. He used the leverage to haul him up, going back on his own haunches and making the dragon sit on his lap, his cock driving in deeper, brushing against the bundle of nerves so far inside him. Jaskier thrashed, his nails digging into Geralt’s arm, drawing blood; the witcher didn’t mind, holding him through it, keeping his head still even as he fucked up into him, unforgiving and fast. “You’re mine,” he growled. “All mine.”

Jaskier nodded quickly, gasping for breath, only just getting enough air each time to expel it in some noise or another. The tingling under his skin got stronger--definitely the ancient magic, then. Especially considering he watched as sparks of golden light glittering below Jaskier’s skin, barely noticeable, like the chaos was struggling to burst free at any moment. Geralt suspected he looked much the same. 

“Gonna breed you,” he promised, tightening his arm around him. “Mate you. Make you mine forever.” 

Without warning, he shoved them both to the ground once again. His cock drove into Jaskier and the dragon roared again; Geralt’s hands moved to grab his wrists, push them into the dirt. He used his weight, every inch of their bodies flush together, to keep Jaskier down. And, with the both of them getting closer and closer, he gave in to the beast side of himself. His teeth, sharp and pointed, sliced into the back of Jaskier’s neck. Blood welled up in his mouth immediately, copper and sharp, but he didn’t let go, Jaskier’s pained moan doing little but encouraging him, pinning him against the earth. 

It was too much. Jaskier’s sounds got louder, more desperate, more unhinged, before he screamed, his whole body quivering with the force of his climax. His cock pulsed as he came, streaks of white painting the dirt below and flecking onto his stomach above, too. It made his walls tighten around Geralt--and that was it. He was done for. The witcher growled and bit down tighter, his thrusts growing erratic, wild.

With a snarl, he came. He rocked his hips down into Jaskier as he filled him, splashing hot cum inside him, the dragon whimpering. The tingling grew in intensity for just a moment--and then it faded away, leaving him feeling whole in a place in his very soul he hadn’t realized he’d been empty beforehand. 

A few more little thrusts and then, with care, he slid his teeth from his neck and pulled his softening cock from Jaskier’s tired body. He grabbed a rag from one of the bags and wiped them both down, pausing for a moment to watch his own cum leak out of Jaskier’s red, loose hole and down his thighs, before getting them clean and, with effort, transporting them both into one of the sleeping rolls. 

Face to face with Jaskier, the poor bard blinking slowly, languidly, he couldn’t help but smile and lift his hand. His fingers brushed over the scales on his cheeks, utterly gorgeous. 

“Mm,” the dragon hummed, forcing his eyes to flutter open. “My mate.” Nothing could change that now. Not a mage, not a spell, not even destiny herself. Geralt was his, and he was Geralt’s. End of story.

The smile Geralt gave in return was soft, genuine. His golden gaze was gentle, and he gave a tiny nod. “Yes,” he confirmed, barely a rumble in the night air. “Sleep, now. You deserve the rest.” He let his hand fall to Jaskier’s side instead, holding him close. Jaskier gave a gentle hum, shifted a little bit closer, closed his eyes--and slept.