#like just imagine him working on panning and being like ‘man fucking MOVE OVER’ and evan goes like ‘wtf no why :(‘ and barty’s like

[mayflywrites]

soundman barty eats at my every waking thought in an unhealthy way

[twinksrepository]

You have no luck, at all

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Dante X F!Reader

CW: Kidnapping, canon typical violence, panic, fighting, swearing, thoughts about asses,

Word count: Roughly 3K 

A/N: Chapter four, where you may have gone from the frying pan right into the fire as you wake up in pain. Elsewhere Nero and Dante are having a showdown as Nero channels his anger about the events of the day into trying to beat the man he assumes killed you into submission. It's a great day for everyone. I'm still not done my course but some inspiration hit hard. So enjoy~

Rolling onto your side as you try to make sense of the vertigo that has a hold of you, all it does is make your stomach churn even harder forcing you to keep yourself from throwing up once more. The thing that had grabbed you standing by like a sentinel now after dropping you to the floor as if you had been a sack of flour.

“I see you’ve arrived, Doctor.” Coughing after you swallow down the bile that has been creeping up your throat, you look up to see the Vicar standing just outside a circle of runes. 

“I heard you died.” He doesn’t look much like a dead man so maybe the citizens you heard in the street had been wrong. 

“Indeed I did.” Well then. Strike one for you. “However I have been resurrected.” Great more craziness you didn’t need to hear today, that is not how it works. You die and you stay dead. As you watch the Vicar move you notice he stays outside of the circle of glowing runes around you, a weight dropping in your stomach as you try to sit up. It takes more effort than your body can give as your muscles scream in protest, what the hell, you had been able to roll over with no problem. 

“Tell me, Doctor.” His voice has a chill to it that you never noticed before. “How was meeting the famed son of Sparda?” 

“Dante?” What does your meeting Dante have to do with anything? Trying to get your legs under you to sit up, it doesn’t make sense almost like gravity has increased around you as a cold sweat breaks out along your skin.  

“I had hoped to use both of you to form the savior's core.” Stopping near the edge of a wall you gasp as your eyes move past him, landing on a massive figure that seems as if it was carved out of marble. “Now however it seems another pair will be used.” What the hell is he talking about? You have no idea what the old man is going on about yet as he turns your heart stops beating in your chest at the eerie glow of his eyes. “That does not mean there isn’t a use for you. If you won’t be part of the core, your healing abilities can still be utilized by the savior. Though it does make me wonder if during your brief time with the devil hunter if you didn’t make an impression.” 

“The hell are you talking about?” Hissing through your teeth as you finally get yourself into a seated position, the tremor in your arms burns as you work as hard as you can to stay in the position you had put so much effort into getting your body placed in. 

“Hell indeed. Angus?” Raising his voice just a hint and the man that reminds you of a mad scientist strides into view. “Place the Doctor inside the savior, I imagine one of the crystals of demonic power should suffice.” 

“Of course Sir.” A bow and you feel your blood boiling as you’re ignored. 

“What the fuck are both of you talking about? I’m not going inside something with demons!” Struggling as hard as you can to try and move, shuffling towards the edge of the circle with all your might panting as your body screams against the force it’s being made to exert. 

“My apologies Doctor, you never had a say in the matter. We had assumed you would be bait for Dante, however it seems that line of thinking was wrong. Either way, we still have a use for you.” If you thought you knew what fear was earlier when you thought you were about to die, you were wrong. Because nothing dulls your senses or makes your heart race like the thought of being used as a pawn and tossed away just as easily. 

All of your struggles are useless as Angus drags you towards the marble status, it’s like the runes are following you, keeping your limbs heavy. Bumps and scrapes are starting to litter your skin from the stones that make up the floor. You’re nearly level with the things chest and a blue stone larger than you are. Just being closer to it has your boil freezing and your heart beating a mile a minute in your chest from the fear. You do not want to be any closer to this thing. “Now be a g-g-g-good little Doctor, and behave.” 

All you can do is scream as he shoves you into the stone watching with morbid horror as you slowly sink into it. You aren’t afraid. No. Afraid seems to be too loose of a description for the sheer terror running rampant through your system. This is not how you wanted to die, a final thought of a certain red coat flicks in your mind, maybe Dante can save you again. It's a fleeting hope before you feel cold and all your senses fall into darkness. 

Nero can feel his frustration mounting. First the Vicar was killed, not that he cared that much about the old man but he wasn’t going to stand by after someone shoved a sword through his decrepit bones. Then the Doc was kidnapped by the same guy. That, he had cared about. 

When you had first shown up in town he thought you might have fully believed all the same crap the order was spewing, then when he went to see you for a cough he just couldn’t seem to shake his view changed dramatically. He could tell you saw the order as just your employer, that you wanted to help people.

It was hard to deny when your touch was as gentle as your voice as you got him to breathe and listened to his lungs with your stethoscope pressed to his back. The way you had laughed a little as you gave him your diagnosis and handed him a few pills to help with the bacteria infection inside his chest. Hours later, he was barely coughing anymore. All of his meetings with you after had been more of a check in, and Nero simply enjoyed having someone to vent about what to him, amounted as the stupidest things. 

For the first time in his life after growing up in the orphanage with Kyrie and Credo, he felt like he had someone else to care about. You reminded him of an older family member that didn’t mind telling him off when he needed it. Or how you just listened when he needed to get some of his frustration of his chest. 

The thought of this Dante having killed you made his blood boil. Now to top it off, Kyrie thought he had tried to kill Credo and she had been taken by that weirdo Angus somewhere. Again. Suffice it to say, he was not in a pleasant mood as he made his way through the orders’ headquarters. 

“What took you so long?” Stopping in his tracks to see the man in red just made his rage just grow in intensity. The cocky bastard. 

“You” Swallowing some of that firy temper of his down Nero glared at him. “What are you doing here?” Watching the easy saunter of the man as he put his weapon away made his eyes narrow futher. He didn’t see Nero as a threat. “Forget it, I don’t have time for this.” Nero might have wanted to slice him to bits but he needed to save Kyrie while he still had a chance. Revenge for the Doctor would have to wait for now. 

Brushing past Dante before feeling his hand land on his shoulder. “And neither do I.” Turning Nero reacted with no thought and threw a punch at the man’s face. Only to watch him dodge with ease before grabbing his first. “So I’ll cut to the chase.” Nero wasn’t expecting the force that he was thrown with, gasping as he hit the stone wall and feeling blood well up his lips from the impact. 

“I’m here for the sword.” What sword? The one he had picked up in Angus’s lab? 

“Your point being?” Drawing on that power Nero sneered, feeling the pain in his chest lessen as his anger surged through him. 

If Dante was bothered by the gust of wind laced with power he didn’t show it beyond blocking his eyes from the dust swirling in the wind that blasted his face. “It was originally my brother’s” Drawing the rebellion and letting his expression grow flat. “Return it to me, and I’ll let you go, Kid.” 

Wrong thing to say. “Kid? Well if that’s how you see me. I think you’ll blush a pretty pink when I kick your ass.” Nero swung the sword that whispered its name as being Yamato in his mind, watching as the pillar across the room broke with a flurry of cement raining down from above the perfect slice in the column. 

“Ah, helpful hint, take a tip from your elders and bow out when you’re outmatched.” That pushes Nero to the edge, lunging forward and swinging the sword at the older man. A clash of metal against metal as both give no quarter in their fight. 

An exchange of blows that has Nero feeling the reins on his temper loosen with the way Dante is still playing with him. “Tell me something.” Growling as he swung the Yamato upwards aiming for the man’s armpit. “Did you toy with the Doc like this too before you took her?” 

“Maybe.” A move more like a dance one then a fighting stance as Dante seemed to gracefully twist away and parring with his larger sword. “What’s it to you?”

His attitude has him furious. “She has nothing to do with this! She’s a good person you fucking bastard.” Another exchange of blows and Nero sees an opening. Going for Dante’s thigh before quickly changing the angle of his blow. 

“Sorry brat but the Doc needed to be removed from the equation.” Another parry and Nero can’t help but scream in rage at the answer.

“So you killed her?!” A barrage of swings at the older man, feeling his movements grow faster as Nero channeled his rage into the blows. Rage about Kyrie being kidnapped, fury about the only other person he saw as family being killed.

“Maybe. Why are you so worried about her?” There’s a flash in Dante’s eyes as he locks the guard of his sword against the one in Nero’s hold. A stalemate of sorts as they both press the other looking to see who flinches first. 

“The Doc didn’t even believe in Demons! She just wanted to help people, she didn't care who anyone was she just helped everyone regardless as to who they were. She just wanted to save people with whatever power she had. She shouldn’t have had to die for being in the wrong place at the wrong time!” Almost screaming it at him before twisting his wrist and jumping back. 

“I didn't kill her. Just made sure she was moved someplace safe.” His words might ring true but Nero doesn’t believe him. He run the vicar through with nary a thought so what reason does the youth have to believe the man in front of him? Swinging Yamato and finally breaking through Dante’s defenses and sending Rebellion flying before going in for the kill. 

Only to find the sword at his throat and back in his hands after Dante dodged with a hand to his back that sent his movements off kilter. Lying on the floor with no other means of attack, his hand pinned under the sole of Dante’s boot.. “Why don’t I believe you?” 

“Believe what you want Kid, but with an ass as fine as hers I’d rather not take something so nice out of the world.” Shrugging while taking in deeper breaths, Nero can see for the first time Dante was struggling during their fight. “Now have you cooled off yet Kid?” All Nero can do is glare, he’s been beaten but it doesn’t mean he needs to like it. Or take the comment about his friend with a grain of salt. “What’s the matter? Why the glare?” 

“You look as if you’ve just been playing me from the beginning.” Nero doesn’t stop glaring, not even when the pressure on his wrist is gone and Dante steps away. 

“That sword was used to separate our world from the demons. I can’t have something with that kind of power floating around now can I?” Striding away from Nero, Dante takes a moment before uttering a little bit more. “The Doctor, is a bit like you and me. Except she doesn’t know it, so I couldn’t let her be left floating around during this mess either.” Turning around once more to set his eyes on Nero once more. “The swords gotta stay in the family, and the Doctor can go back to whatever she wants after this situation is over.” 

For whatever reason, Nero is more willing to believe Dante. The order has been up to some shady shit and with her sudden appearance in the town maybe that creepy Angus guy had something planned for her too if what Dante said is true. Yet the thought of losing Yamato? It puts a weight in his gut. He’s only been able to come this far since he obtained it, and he still needs to save Kyrie. “I need this.” 

Nero’s tone grabs Dante's attention immediately. A single thought shoots across his head as he takes in the boy's appearance. It’s almost as if a shadow passes in front of his eyes and he can place so many of his facial features, even the stance the boy has at the moment to another he once knew as well as himself. It would explain why the boy found the Yamato, and why he seems to wield it so easily. ‘Vergil, did you really throw everything away in that quest for power?’ 

His mind made up Dante points at the boy, before dropping his hand to his side with Rebellion resting against his shoulder. “Then keep it.” Inside his head it doesn’t make sense to have come this far to just let the boy keep Vergil’s sword. His heart, on the other hand, is telling him to let what he’s certain is his nephew keep what might be the final part of his father with him. It’s technically still with the family. “Now that you’re calm and cool, get going.” Jerking his head towards the hallway that Nero had originally been heading for prior to their little battle. 

It takes a moment, as if Nero doesn’t fully believe Dante and his words before he nods passing beside him and a sense of something overtakes him. Freezing as Dante calls out to him once more. “Hey! What’s your name?” 

“Nero. You’re Dante right? Not a bad name.” Not bothering to wait as he kept heading for the door. 

“I meant what I said, Nero. The Doctor will be back on her merry way once this is over.” Internally thinking how Nero isn’t a bad name for his nephew either, kind of funny with his head of white hair to be named after the Latin word for black. Watching him walk away down the hallway before his view is interrupted by a scantily dressed tan woman. 

Dante burst into laughter before pointing at her. “That regal look suits you!” 

“I dress to impress” A flourish of her hands and Trish returns to looking like herself once more, striding towards Dante with a grin on her face. “Are you sure you want to let him go?” If she’s surprised by his decision, she doesn't show it. Then again Trish has always had the best poker face he’s ever known. 

“Yeah. I figure he can bear the burden.” The briefest hint of pride on his face as Dante keeps looking down to where Nero disappeared to. 

“I know it’s not my business, but this could get ugly.” Feeling her hand settle on his shoulder Dante smirks. 

“Well, if the kid screws up then I’ll just have to kick his ass.” Returning Rebellion to its place on his back he shrugs. 

“Speaking of asses, I hear you’ve met the Doctor.” Trish’s voice has a tilt to it that makes Dante raise an eyebrow. Is she about to shed more light on what you're really about, was he in fact tricked by an act you were putting on?

“What of it?” Narrowing his eyes curious as to what Trish could be getting at with the sideways glance she sends him as if gauging his reaction. 

“I’m just curious as to what you think of her. She is rather cute, from what I heard through the order she looked right at home tucked up in your arms.” Dante flinches backwards his shoulders ramrod straight. Did someone in the order really report back how the two of them had looked as he ran across the rooftops with her? 

“The hell is with you and Lady? Are you two trying to set me up with someone or something?” The devil hunter doesn’t blush, it’s not like it’s the first time he’s met a hot chick and carried her to safety but the fact both women are hinting at something doesn’t sit right with him. He’s a little annoyed by their comments, even if he does agree that the Doctor is pretty easy on the eyes. 

“Just pointing out the obvious. I mean you can be quite dense.” A slow blink from Trish and Dante knows the woman is trying to get a rise out of him with the comment about his intelligence. 

“Funny. Very funny.” Rolling his shoulders to brush her hand away before he starts walking away. Down along the same hallway Nero had gone wanting to watch how the rest of this played out. “She does have a nice ass though.” One that Dante is starting to realize is showing up in his thoughts more and more. Another thought goes right along with it, how if the situation had been different he might have asked the pretty little doctor on a date. After saving your life not once but twice, he has zero interest in that now when the risk of you feeling something for him might be possible. 

Chapter three

[theemporium]

This is something I’ve been wanting to send for a while but did not want to type out lol, but since people have been talking about ballerina!reader, its finally convinced me to write it all down.

So at the end of October, is Word Ballet Day, and I feel like this is very niche lol, but I like watching The Royal Ballet’s class/rehearsal time; its just a live feed of their ballet class and some of the rehearsals. And I thought about one of the drivers watching the feed live while they’re in the garage or in their driver’s room. So even if they’re not together, whichever of the drivers, let’s say Lando, can still support the reader and see her in her element. And he gets to see what happens behind the scenes. Because while he gets to watch her shows sometimes, this is a different side to the reader, he gets to see how much hard work she does. Kind of like a reverse of when the reader is at the paddock supporting him.

And then later that day, when they both have downtime, they’ll FT each other, and Lando can tell the reader all his thoughts about watching her, and it’s his turn to gush about her. And while the reader’s kinda blushy and giggly, she’s also very touched bc he didn’t have to watch but here he was supporting her anyway.

Gosh, can you imagine too when she has partner work, and while Lando is secure in their relationship, watching another man lift and move and really just touch the reader makes him feel a certain way. On the call later he’ll be like “I can lift you too, you know.” And the reader just giggles and shakes her head.

Okay, that’s as far as I got. Lol. ballerina!reader just got me, I guess. 😂😂 - 🌸

PLEASE THIS IS SO🥹

okay but the idea that in between practice sessions and stuff, the camera pans over to lando and he's just grinning down at his phone as he is watching the feed. and twitter goes fucking crazy over how supportive and obsessed he is

but also lando being lowkey pissy about the partner work😭please, the boy is like, "yeah, i know he means nothing to you and it's just a dance, but i reckon i could do that lift so much easier than him if we tried it-"

[susiephone]

Imagine thinking that wanting straight people to be accepting of gay people is a "trap" and not like, literally THE entire goal of the modern LGBT rights movement since its inception

okay. this is in response to me saying “respectability politics is a trap.” which it absolutely is.

but i’ll give you the benefit of the doubt here. let’s define respectability politics, shall we?

several people who are more well-spoken than me have talked about this. to quote this article on the subject:

Respectability politics is a school of thought that utilizes respectability narratives as the basis for enacting social, political, and legal change.

Respectability narratives are representations of marginalized individuals meant to construct an image of the marginalized group as people sharing similar traits, values, morals with the dominant group.

essentially, respectability politics is when people in a marginalized group (queer people, disabled people, people of color) wish to be accepted by the majority, and thus present themselves in a way and behave in a way that the majority deems acceptable - and pressure others in their marginalized group to do the same. for example:

“Not all bisexual people are sluts, I’m bi and I’ve been in a committed relationship for 20 years!”

“I’m gay, but I’m not one of THOSE gay guys, I hate shopping and I don’t like to flaunt my sexuality at all!”

“Lesbians aren’t really all masculine, I love makeup and having long hair.”

(I’m using examples I’ve seen in the queer community because I’m queer; I know this happens a lot in communities of color, but I am not qualified to speak on that at all.)

this stems from a desire to be accepted by the majority; for the purposes of this discussion, straight people. we hear straight people say things like “i could never date a bi person, they’re all cheaters” or “i don’t mind gay guys, don’t just shove it in my face” and “why don’t lesbians act like women if they love them?” and, in response, some people go, “i don’t act like that!! you can accept me! i fit in! i’m respectable, i’m not like those guys, they embarrass us!”

there’s also a lot of people saying, “don’t reinforce the stereotype.” as if it’s OUR fault straight people stereotype us.

so this leads to shaming within our own community:

“You’re bi and polyamorous? Wow, way to make people think we’re all two-timing whores.”

“Makeup? Jesus, we get it, you’re gay, you don’t have to make it a pride parade every time you go out.”

“You look like a teenage boy, this is why everyone lesbians aren’t real women.”

and that all boils down to:

“THIS is the example you’re setting? This is the face you show to the world? Don’t you know you���re representing us? No wonder they don’t respect us.”

and that’s the real problem: telling other queer people, “it is YOUR fault you’re not accepted, YOU aren’t acceptable, YOU reinforce these stereotypes, YOU should try and be more respectable, more normal.” and the thing is, “normal” is defined by the majority. THEY decide what is acceptable behavior for us. and guess what? 

most of the time, that boils down to, “It’s fine if you’re different... as long as you’re as close to what I deem normal as possible. As long as I can’t tell you’re different.”

in the queer community, this sort of thinking has led to the exclusion of butch lesbians, femme gay men, nonbinary people, non-passing trans people, trans people in general, people who use any pronouns besides she/her and he/him, bisexual people, ace people, aro people, pan people, polyamorous bisexual people, people who have an active sex life, sex workers, people who have changed how they identify, and countless others. these people get shoved aside by the Good Respectable Gays, who are eager to say, “We’re not like them, we’re just like you!” in order to be accepted by the mainstream. and it still doesn’t work. even the most macho, would-never-guess-it gay guy is bound to face some level of oppression or otherness at some point in his life. it doesn’t matter how much he fits in, how much he distances himself from the Unacceptable Queers; it won’t work 100% of the time. how’s that for a punchline?

there is no point in trying to file off the “unacceptable” parts of our community just to please straight people. 

if a person hates all queer people, no matter how they act or present, they’re a homophobe.

if a person doesn’t hate queer people, just the ones who shove it in your face and sleep around and won’t shut up about it and buck gender norms and use weird pronouns and expect people to learn their new name and change their identity every week... they’re still a fucking homophobe.

and why the fuck are we trying to please homophobes, again?

so when people say lil nas x is bad, actually, because he “reinforces the stereotype” of gay people going to hell and thinking a lot about sex or whatever, they’re playing right into respectability politics. why can’t he just talk about his sexuality in a normal way? why can’t he express himself in a nicer way? why does he have to use that imagery? why does he have to make straight people uncomfortable?

lis nas x is a gay black man who grew up being told he’d burn in hell for being gay. and he made an awesome song with a legendary music video saying, “fine. i’ll go to hell, just like you want, and it’ll be great. i’ll take the damn place over and make satan fall in love with me. and i’ll have a great time doing it, because i’m proud of who i am, and i won’t apologize for it or be ashamed of it anymore.”

to see that and wring your hands, worrying that a straight person will see it and decide to be homophobic about it, and pinning the blame for that on nas is missing the point.

every time we as a community make ourselves lesser or change the way we present just to be accepted by the majority, they move the goalposts, and someone else gets left behind. and the beautiful thing about the queer community is that there is a place for everyone who is left out in the cold by the straight, cis majority.

“We’re here, we’re queer, get used to it” was the rallying cry for a reason. we’re different, you think we’re weird, you think we’re deviant, you don’t get us, and that’s fine, you don’t have to get us. we’re not going anywhere. get used to it.

respectability politics is a game you cannot win. so stop playing.

[llywsuho]

make me yours, love.

pairing: bangchan × f!reader

warnings: smut, straight relationship, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (don't do this, always protect yourself!), smut but lots of love.

english is not my native language so in case of error, sorry :)

.

It was Saturday night, the curtains in your apartment fluttering lightly in the wind that blew through the balcony door. You had left the door locked, so you deduced that Chan was already there judging by the delicious smell of food emanating from all over the place.

— Chan?

— In the kitchen, love! — you followed to the kitchen finding your boyfriend with his back to you, stirring something in a pan. You gave him a brief kiss on the neck — Welcome. — He turned to you and kissed you — How was work?

— Terrible! That old bald man thinks making us work on Saturday will help his bad mood. He doesn't have sex and we're the ones who fuck.

Chan laughed and pulled you by the waist, kissing your cheek as you brought your hands to his neck, leaving a caress there.

— I don't think he's been doing anything since his wife found out he was being an asshole.

— By the way, I didn't even tell you about the new frill.

— What? — Chan stopped the kisses looking at you with a curious face.

— It wasn't a woman, it was a man.

— What?! Seriously?

— Very serious.

— Wasn't he the one who was homophobic? - Bang looked at you in disbelief while you laughed at his face — I'm shocked.

— That's why he's more unbearable than before, you have to see his face when he passes by everyone. Like, it's okay for him to like it or anything, but he would beat his chest saying this and that, you know? — Chan nods his head — And his wife, poor thing, she is so sad. Before, she used to arrive all happy, she would talk to us... Now she will just solve the company's affairs and leave, without talking to anyone.

— I can't imagine how painful it must be to be betrayed by the one you love.

— Me neither, love. But then — you peeked over his shoulder — what are you doing?

— I'm preparing the meat for the lasagna.

— Hmm lasagna, how delicious.

— Just like who's doing it.

You smiled, leaving a wet kiss on her mouth. — I can't disagree. — another kiss — I'll take a shower and come back to help you, ok?

— OK.

After dinner, you and Chan sat on the porch while watching the view of Seoul. The man left you alone for a few brief seconds after getting up and coming back with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He served them and handed her one as he pulled him to sit on his lap. You brought your left hand to Chan's now black hair and took a strand between your fingers, twirling the strands, you loved the natural curl of his hair.

— What do you think about? He kissed the space between her collarbones.

— That I love your natural hair. — You looked into his eyes, saving the affection — That I love you.

Chan felt a little chill in his chest, the same feeling when you kissed him, touched him or told him you loved him, like now. He felt that as much as it was impossible to want you more, he could only think about living every moment of his life with you, simple as that. You in his arms, a glass of wine and then loving you all night.

You felt it too, looking at him as if the man in front of you is the reason everything is the way it is, the reason the stars shine, the reason the birds sing, the reason you are happy.

Chan snuggled you closer in his lap, kissing his shoulder through your shirt and making you feel the bulge slowly growing inside your shorts. Bang moved kisses down her neck, chin and ear, stopping there and whispering softly.

— I spent all day thinking about you. And how I would fuck you when you arrived... — a shiver ran through your whole body — And I've come to the conclusion that the best way is when you're in control because there's nothing I love more than being yours, my love.

He pulled back and looked at you, the way you caressed the back of his neck with your fingernails making him shiver all over. At that moment all you wanted to say was the same, but all the words seemed to have evaporated from your mouth, and the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing he had, didn't help matters.

— Please, love, make me yours. — he said in a whisper.

It was too much for you to accept, the man you love asking you to love him the best you could. There was no verbal response to that, so you kissed him. Slowly, tasting the wine on her full lips.

He brought his hands up to your waist under your shirt, wrapping around your waist, making you sit with one leg on either side of him, feeling his cock against you.

You sucked on his bottom lip and Chan held you tight, lifting you both up and heading into the bedroom, laying you down on the soft mattress while having one of his legs between yours, rubbing against your core.

Your hands lifted the hem of Bang's shirt and then yours, making their breasts meet. Your left hand gripped his hair while your right stroked it through his shorts.

Chan moaned softly into the kiss, feeling your hand on him, making him feel more needy than he already did.

His kisses traveled down his neck and over his hard nipple, sucking and kissing. He knew how much you liked him.

His passionate sighs against your skin only made you want more and more of everything he could give you. But Chan deserved everything from you too.

You pulled him to you, kissing him as you shifted positions. You laid him on the bed, kissing his neck, leaving red marks on his sensitive skin as you listened to Chan's gasps beneath you.

You pulled his shorts along with his boxers, running your hands over his thighs. You looked at him, hair disheveled, mouth swollen and red, face flushed, skin burning. It was the best view in the world, your man a complete mess because of you.

You right hand gripped his cock, moving it up and down. He closed his eyes and laid his head on the bed, feeling you working on him. His mouth dropped open whispering how you made him feel good. You felt like you could cum right there.

You ran your tongue along its length, tasting, sucking on the tip as you reached for it, receiving a low moan in response. Your mouth and tongue alternated between sucking and licking, causing Chan to moan and sigh as he held your free hand around his waist. Your movements were slow and strong, just the way he liked them.

— Love... - he groaned.

— Hmm? - you answered.

— I need to feel you. — you raised your head to look at him, continuing with your hands — I want you in me. Please.

Hearing him practically beg for you made you throb. You felt so wet and sensitive, and you hadn't even been touched yet.

You crawled on the bed meeting his mouth, kissing him and tasting him still in your mouth. Chan took off your panties and sat down holding you in his lap, making you feel his cock against you. He kept it that way for a while, feeling you unconsciously rocking against him, feeling your tongue in his mouth, squeezing your ass with his hands as you alternated your hands between his arms and neck.

Chris turned you over, lying between your legs, bringing his hand up to your pussy, feeling your arousal in his fingers as he made circular motions against your clit. He lowered his kiss to your breasts, trying to find your intimacy when you stopped him.

— Not, love. I Want you. — you pulled back — Inside me, now.

Chan brought the fingers that were on you to his lips, sucking them. You pulled him closer with one of your legs, feeling his cock moving up and down between your folds until finally Bang entered you slowly. There was nothing better than feeling him in you, and for Chan, there was nothing better than being in you, feeling your heat around his cock.

— You always have me so well, love. — he entered completely — Always has me.

Your mouth sought his in a slow kiss, indicating he could continue. His hands rested on the bed below your knees, the new position making you feel his cock inside you. The thrusts were rhythmic and deep. Every second you felt him hitting your core as you watched the man above you. The blue and pink LED lights turning to lilac on his skin, the hair on his forehead accompanied by beads of sweat running down her neck. So fucking sexy.

Your mouth found his jaw, kissing and scratching his back as he continued to thrust hard into you, your moans mixing with his along with the sounds of your skin bumping.

The heat in your belly was getting stronger by the moment, and from Bang's quick, intense movements you knew he was almost there too.

— Channie. — you moaned against his mouth.

— I know, love, I can feel it. — he kissed the corner of your mouth — Damn, I can feel you. Cum with me, huh? — He kissed your mouth. — I love you.

Three more thrusts and you felt your core burn and your pussy tighten around him, feeling his hot cum entering you, filling you.

Chan leaned his forehead against your, yours labored breaths mingling.

— I love you, Channie.

— I love you more.

[harryspet]

cement walls | bucky barnes

[Warnings] dark!bucky barnes x reader, non/dubcon sex, fingering, kidnapping, forced pregnancy, confined spaces, Stockholm syndrome(?), post-blip bucky, bucky needs some therapy, forced gender roles

[A/N] uhm so this is what i’ve been working on and like usual i have no idea where i wanna take it :):) i haven’t posted in a long while so i figured i would put this out there for some feedback! this is pretty much inspired by Room if you’ve seen that movie. [gif credit to https://jamesbrnes.tumblr.com/]

In which the outside world is too dangerous for you and Bucky is the only one who can protect you. 

taglist: @cherienymphe @lovelynerdytraveler @buckysbunny @hollandsdream @micki-smiles @buckybarnesplumwhore @arts-ismything @saharzek @what-is-your-wish @brattypeony @hermayone @buckysugar @mischiefmanaged011 @visintaes  @watercoolerpaint @disaster-rose @slutforsebstan​ @doozywoozy​

main masterlist

word count: 3.3k

Within the cement walls that surrounded your home, you imagined that you had your own little planet. You spent hours of your days thinking about what surrounded you, if there were floating rings like Saturn had, the constellations you could make out only if you could only see the entire sky, and how the sun would really feel on your bare skin. You were beginning to forget what that felt like and you sat below the skylight trying to reach into your mind and remember.

Maybe you should be grateful that there was even a skylight at all and that there was enough room for a small kitchen and bathroom. You imagined that's what he thought. You could move around freely with no chains so you should be grateful. Almost three-hundred square feet of your new planet that you should be glad to have. Except you didn’t even own the ground you stood on, this planet wasn’t really yours, you were just an astronaut trapped in space. 

That morning, you scrubbed the floors, not only because the military man preferred organization but also because the small space got dirty quickly. After taking your vitamins, extra Vitamin D of course, and munching on a stale granola bar, you got to work. You made the twin bed up, making sure the sheets were tucked in tightly before organizing the small amount of clothes in the wardrobe. 

When you heard the beeping of the keypad outside the door, you stood up, shutting the wardrobe. You weren’t expecting him, not having gotten to the kitchen yet, but alas your moon man appeared. You couldn’t help it, you always looked past him to see what you could have of the outside world. You saw nothing, his figure was only surrounded in darkness as he shut it quickly, and it beeped as the metal door locked again. 

It was like he liked the idea of you not knowing where you were. He’d brought you into this room unconscious so you had no idea whether you were still in Louisiana or not. For all you knew, you could be floating in space and it wouldn’t matter. 

The tall man’s hair was cut short, like he’d just gotten a haircut, and you hated that the room was already beginning to smell like his cologne. He held a brown bag of what you assumed were groceries, “You haven’t been here in more than two weeks. I’ve been cleaning my clothes in the sink. I started rationing food t-thinking you weren’t going to come back.”

He set the bag down on the small kitchen table and you watched his eyes roam over the dirty dishes, “I wouldn’t leave you here, doll face,” Bucky assured you, “C’mere.” He waved you over and you stepped forward cautiously. 

“W-Where did you go?”

He reached up to hold your face, the leather brushing against your cheeks as he looked you over. You wore a green smock dress with a cardigan tightly over you, the box having been cold the past few days, “I had business. Far away business.”

“You’ve never been gone this long.”

“Did you miss me that much?” You wanted to roll your eyes. If Bucky didn’t come back, you’d die in probably the worst way possible and no one would know what happened to you, “I brought you back plenty of groceries, I even got you some oreos and that fancy bread you like.”

“Bucky …. I-I was so so scared. You don’t understand-” He leaned down to kiss you and when your lips didn’t move against his, he grabbed you roughly by your hair. You held in your yelp as you forced your lips to move against his. He held your hips, deepening the kiss and when he pulled away, his hands were still in your hair. 

“I’m here now, “ He looked at you sharply, tugging your hair a bit, “But it seems you can’t keep the kitchen clean, no matter how much time I give you.”

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, the words slipping out before you could even register them. 

He gestured his head over to the sink, “Get to it. And the groceries as well.” 

You moved past him, turning on the warm water before grabbing a sponge. You felt his eyes on your back as you began to clean all the pots and pans you’d been using. You heard the rattling of his belt, his jeans being pulled down, the sound of his boots being stacked to the side, and the grunt he let out when he tossed his jacket over the kitchen chair. 

When you placed everything in the drying rack, you moved onto the bag of groceries. He had gotten the bread you liked so you had something to look forward to that week, “I had to see that lady again.”

“You mean your therapist?”

“It’s court mandated bullshit,” You looked over and he was examining your desk and bookshelf. All the books you had were given to you by him and all the decorations were paper origami that you’d gotten good at making. 

“What did you guys talk about?” You asked hesitantly, putting things away in the cabinet. 

“She thinks I need more friends, more social interactions I suppose but that’s what she says every week,” You heard your bed creak as he sat down, “Hey, make me a cup of coffee, doll.”

“Oh,” It was clear that whatever that therapist was doing, wasn’t work, the biggest piece of evidence being the girl he was holding captive right now. You moved over to the coffee pot, pouring what was left into his favorite mug, “Do you … ever talk about me?”

You could feel his body stiffen even from across the room. 

“Why would I?” When you turned around, his eyebrows were furrowed, his hands on his knees. 

You crossed the small room with the cup in hand, “Well, you interact with me. I’m like your friend, right?” You handed him the drink, standing back as you watched him take a sip, hoping he’d be satisfied with it. 

“You know why I can’t tell her about you, Y/N.”

You shook your head, “Yeah, I was just thinking … “ You sat down a few feet away from him, “Does anyone else know about me?”

“You’re curious today.”

“It’s not like I have much entertainment in here,” You said a little more snarky than you intended. You felt his mechanical arm push into the mattress beside you as he turned his head, “Sorry … when do you think I’ll get to leave the room? Not outside, just out of the room. Maybe to where you sleep at night.”

“If you’re going to be like this today-”

“Forget I said anything,” You smiled weakly, “Please.”

Bucky set down his cup on the small nightstand before he urged you closer. You scooted closer and he gently pushed your head down until it was resting in his lap. You felt his cold hand through your sweater and the other through your hair, “I know what it’s like … feeling trapped,” You pulled your feet onto the bed and he continued to stroke your hair and you welcomed the comforting touch. 

“Then why …”

He shushed you, “Mind over matter, Y/N. It’s all about training your mind to adjust. You’re safer here, you’re taken care of here, and your mind is still trying to convince you that you don’t belong here.”

“I wouldn’t try to escape if I could just stay with you…”

He shushed you again, “I spent decades frozen and then, after that, I was trapped in my own mind. Now everyone’s trying to convince me that I have this new chance to survive in the world. They genuinely think of this new century as being so amazing, so much technology, and opportunities but it’s a lie, Y/N. This world is nothing but danger and death. You’re much better without it.”

You felt a tear roll down your cheeks. You felt like the chains around you were only getting heavier. He was so delusional that you thought it would be easier to start believing him, “Please don’t leave for that long again.”

Bucky sighed, “I’ll stay here for the night. How does that sound?”

You hiccuped, “T-Thank you.”

Later that night, you were lying beside bucky in the small bed. He was fast asleep but you were wide awake, looking up at the skylight. The full moon was lighting up the room. Carefully, you tossed your feet over the bed, doing your best not to disturb the soldier. You got onto the floor, crawling towards the carpet in the middle of the room. Oftentimes, when you couldn’t sleep, you’d lay down and stare up at the moon. 

You stayed like that for lord knows how long, drifting into a place where all your thoughts were silent. 

“What are you doing?” You sat up quickly, your heart racing as his gruff voice snapped you from your trance. 

He was shirtless, standing above you, and rubbing his tired eyes. You simply pointed up, “The moon.”

“Get back in bed,” He commanded groggily. 

You scooted over slightly, “I can’t sleep ... just come look with me. It’s beautiful.”

“You act like you’ve never seen the fucking moon before, Y/N,” His frustration caught you off guard as he reached down to grab you by your arm. You didn’t mean to but, on instinct, you flinched away. That only led him to grabbing your harder, and you stumbled as he pulled you up, “Get in the bed. You scare me to death when I wake up and can’t feel you.”

“If you care so much then why do you leave me in here for weeks on end.”

His eyes flickered with hurt for a moment, “I won’t … ever again. You need far too much discipline for me to let you be on your own for so long.” You rolled your eyes as you turned away, walking towards the bed. 

He grabbed you roughly by your waist, pushing you onto the bed. He pushed you further into the mattress, his hand on the back on your neck, and you were reminded just how cruel he could be. There was a point months ago when you stopped fighting it, knowing in the end he would overpower you, but sometimes your spark appeared. 

He lifted your nightgown easily, knowing he wouldn’t find any underwear to tear off, and his hand cupped between your legs. As you struggled beneath him, he felt you, rubbing and running his fingers over your lips, “Me being deep inside you seems to correct your mood. Is that what you need from me, doll face?”

Your spark appeared and went quickly, knowing he could feel your wetness, giving him the permission to sink two of fingers inside you. He moved slow, his knees pressed deep into the bed, as he watched your lips part with a gasp. 

“That’s it …”

This was his favorite, knowing he could get you off with just his fingers, his fingers curling against your most sensitive areas. He fastened his pace, pushing in and out of you as you lay there bent over. Knowing you were nearing an orgasm you were sure not to run away from, he moved his vibranium arm from your neck and underneath you where he stimulated your sensitive bud. 

“That’s my girl,” He coaxed you as he sent you into a shaking fit, “You finish so well on my fingers, so beautifully.” You came hard, Bucky enjoying the vulnerable view of your face. As he let you go, you pushed down your gown and laid down on your side. The bed dipped as he took a seat, rubbing your thighs as the post-orgasm regret filled you. 

“You ever think you have some control over me, I want you to remember this.”

8 months later … 

You flipped through the channels six channels that the old television would provide. The soldier thought buying you one would decrease your book intake which he was struggling to keep up with as you read several per week. He wasn’t a fan of technology but the two of you had a long argument about it and he eventually caved. 

You weren’t sure if he knew but the TV picked up a local news channel and you got a glimpse into what the world had been like over the past year. Every now and then, there’d be a mention of Sam Wilson and you figured that’s who he was disappearing with when he was gone for weeks at a time. 

As you neared closer and closer to your due date, he’d grown nicer than usual, though the way he’d gotten you pregnant wasn’t pleasant at all. “You complain so much about being lonely.” He had said when you’d missed your period, “This is what you wanted, right?” 

You weren’t sure if you were just nauseous from the pregnancy or if the idea of raising a baby in that room was making you sick to your stomach. Sometimes you caught yourself being selfish, thinking about having someone to take care of and take up your time. Having someone who could love you properly, in a way that Bucky didn’t quite understand. 

“How’s my girl? And how’s my mini me?” Bucky was an abnormally good move when he came down to visit you that night. He was carrying magazines in his hand and you crossed the room, curious to see the details, “I thought you might want to look at nursery stuff.”

“There’s gonna be a nursery,” Your lips pulled into a smile, “Where?”

“Here,” He gestured around and your smile fell, “You can’t be too far from the little tike. I was thinking we could put the crib where your desk is.”

You took the magazines from him, resting them on your protruding stomach, “Oh …” You tried not to sound sad, “You don’t think that maybe the space is too small? I mean, a mom and baby and sometimes you, that’s a lot of people for one room. And when they get older ….” You imagined having a happy little baby but you tried not to think about your child growing up in a box. 

“When he gets older, we’ll think about it then,” He stated, already gendering the baby without any actual knowledge. He refused to let you see a doctor, only brought you prenatal vitamins, expecting that you’d have a smooth delivery right here in the room, “For now, it’s plenty of room.”

You nodded, “When he gets older, will you take him outside the room? Kids need space to play and get fresh air.”

“I’ll think about it, Y/N,” Bucky’s lips pressed into a thin line. 

You didn’t want to push the issue further, not wanting to spoil his mood, “I think a light green will be a good, neutral color for everything. Maybe we can decorate his side of the room.”

He smiled, “Whatever you’d like, doll face.”

You crossed the room, setting the magazines down on your desk, and a scary idea crossed your mind. A scary idea and chance you might just have to take if it meant you could get help. You were getting nowhere screaming at the top of your lungs, hoping for someone to hear you, and asking Bucky over and over again just to let you have fresh air. He was suffocatingly protective and that didn’t seem like it was gonna change. You couldn’t let him do that to your child. 

You made dinner and he slept over that night, his vibranium hand holding your waist the entire night. 

You planned to catch him off guard the next morning, figuring you’d have the best chance of causing a panic while he was still tired. You got up, whispering that you had to use the restroom, and you slipped inside the room. You read somewhere that only a fourth cup of water comes out when your water breaks, so you fill a cup before drenching your underwear, legs and the bathroom floor. 

“Bucky!” You shouted, making sure you looked scared in the mirror, “Bucky!”

The door almost flew off its hinges as the soldier went into full alert. His eyes were wide, examining you, “What-What happened?”

“I-I think my water broke,” A tear slipped down your cheek. 

“It’s too early,” He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, “A-Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. All the books say it's a gushing feeling and that was definitely gushing.”

“Maybe we should wait … we can wait and see if contractions start-”

You shook your head furiously, cautiously stepping forward, “We have to see a Doctor. W-We have to … contractions are supposed to start before my water breaks a-and I’m only 29 weeks. I can’t have the baby naturally.”

“But-”

“We have to! Please, Bucky, a-all I care about is the baby. Please, I don’t want to lose them. Please don’t make me-”

“Okay, okay,” He nodded, grabbing your face as he wiped your tears, “Uhm …. let's get dressed. There’s a thirty minute drive to the hospital,” You nodded and his eyes narrowed at you, “This is for the baby, remember that. You pull anything and-”

“I know,” You placed your hand over your stomach, pulling away from his grasp. 

Your body was heavy when he led you out of that room. You felt your reality shifting as you entered the world again. What surprised you most was how normal the rest of the home was, not particularly homey, but it was nice and spacious. There was even a full front yard and, sadly, you imagined the happy family that could have lived here. You half-expected him to have a wife and kids that he was hiding you from. 

Now, sitting in the hospital bed, you watched him paced around, not paying attention to what the Doctor was saying. 

“So she’s not in labor? She felt her water breaking.”

“No, Sir. Based on the ultrasound, the amniotic fluid levels are normal. I’m not sure what happened, could be a multitude of things, but it was most likely a false alarm. But don’t worry, it happens all the time. And your baby looks very healthy.”

You opened your mouth to say something but Bucky’s eyes narrowed at you, a warning. 

“Okay, thank you, Doc.”

“Do you two have a primary obstetrician? One isn’t listed-”

“Are we free to leave?”

The Doctor took another look at you, as if he was trying to understand our relationship, but if he noticed anything, he didn’t say it, “Yes, you’re free to go. I would just make sure to keep a sharp eye out and give your obstetrician a call if you have a question-”

“Of course, thanks, Doc,” Bucky nodded as he forced a smile. With his dark jacket and black gloves, it was hard for him not to look intimidating. 

The Doctor looked down at you with a warm smile, “Let me know if you need anything, ma’am.”

Say something. 

Say something. 

If you were going to say something, this would be the time. Why did Bucky have such a hold on you even outside of the room?

As soon as the Doctor left the room, Bucky turned away, frustratedly packing up your bag, “Get up, get dressed, let’s go.”

“Bucky, I really did think-”

“If you don’t want someone in this hospital to get hurt, I’d get dressed and keep your mouth shut.”

You moved your legs to the side, real tears beginning to fall down your face, as you struggled to get your dress on. Bucky noticed your sniffling from the corner of his eye. He moved towards you, kneeling down beside the bed, “Hey, I’m sorry …. I’m just stressed out. I don’t like you being here ... but everything is going to be okay. Our baby is perfectly healthy and we’ll be home soon. There will be no more interruptions after this.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to nod in agreement knowing that your own opinion didn’t matter. Bucky was god, enforcing his will on you, and claiming he knew best. You felt so small in comparison to him but there had to be something left within you that could keep fighting, that could keep you from going willingly back into that room-

“Y/N?”

You perked up, “Yes?”

“C’mon doll face, let’s go home.”

hope you enjoyed! not sure where i want to take this so feedback will be much appreciated!

[newtonsheffield]

Can we have some simmering spice for spicy Sunday please 🥺 I feel like we’ve never really had it for spicy Sunday, like maybe a snippet from after Kates birthday dinner at the restaurant? Or maybe them getting caught once they’re together ( I get the vibe they’d get caught a lot)

Hiii! For Spicy Sunday could we see some more of Simmering Anthony and Kate??

Hmmm

The Mary thing is happening next chapter, so I'm gonna save it, I think.

Let's see them a little further in the future.

At this point in their relationship, Kate liked to think she knew just about all of Anthony's moves. If you could call them that, she thought it was putting it a little strongly, personally. It was a little hard to imagine a man who'd once run away seconds after he'd started enthusiastically fingering you, as having anything close to moves. But regardless, she'd seen them all.

She'd seen him when he'd been an awkward teenager, and she had herself, winking at her awfully while he dropped bread rolls on her table even after she said We've already had our bread, thanks. And he'd shrugged while her father muttered CHRIST!

She'd seen him burn a hole in her back as she made her way around the kitchen, feeling his presence so keenly that eventually she dragged him by the back of the jacket into his office with a gasped Take off you fucking pants Anthony.

She'd seen the text messages, Can I come to yours? I promise I'll make you scream, Babe. So loudly people down the street will hear it. Heat settling low in her stomach until her breath shuddered as she typed out You have 15 minutes or I'm starting without you.

But today Anthony had chosen a different move as she planned Mother's day lunch for his mother and hers. Today, Anthony apparently planned on being absolutely no help at all.

That wasn't exactly true, he'd helped with the prep of course, his arm nudging hers as they worked in sync together in the kitchen they now shared. His hand had settled on her waist as he'd moved around the kitchen behind her. But he seemed determined to make himself present. Always taking a step at exactly the time she did, so she was forced to dance around him while he chuckled. And Kate knew exactly what he was doing. But she fells for it anyway.

The hair in her neck had been standing up for at least an hour as the heat in their kitchen rose and she became even more disgustingly aware of her boyfriend than she already was. Heat was simmering in the pit of her stomach, her cheeks flushed with it as her eyes tracked him across the room, humming as he finished his prep.

"I'm gonna take a quick shower before everyone gets here. Wanna join me?" His smile was almost predatory as he started tugging at the shirt covering his chest, his muscles rippling as it went over his head.

"Nope! I still have to finish up this... thing." She gestured vaguely at the raspberry sauce in the pan. "I'll go once you're done."

Anthony winked at her, "Sure thing, babe."

Truly, Kate had to resist the urge to stick her head the freezer as he walked away, desperately trying to calm down while he was gone. Unfortunately, for her raspberry sauce, and likely all their guests: kate's willpower had chosen this day to abandon her completely.

"Shower's free." Anthony said, sauntering into the kitchen, and Kate turned towards him instinctively and immediately wished she hadn't.

Anthony was leaning against the countertop completely naked, hair still wet, entire body gleaming with water that caught in the sun streaming through the glass windows giving him a startling shine, almost like a model, caught in a candid moment, his eyes burning at her, grinning brightly.

"I know what you're doing." Kate managed to gasp out, her eyes still roaming over him as he stepped towards her, flexing his muscles performatively.

"and what's that, Kate?" His voice was a low growl, eyes darkening as he stepped towards her, his fingers brushing her waist lightly.

"You're- You're trying to seduce me, shamelessly. When we don't have time. Everyone will be here in Fifteen minutes."

His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, one of his thighs sliding between hers his lips nipping at her ear. "Doesn't sound like I don't have time. Sounds like I have fifteen minutes."

A soft moan broke it's way free from Kate's throat, her eyes rolling back in her head as his fingers slipped into the pair of his boxers she was wearing, the first touch of his hand already too much, even before his other hand settled at her waist, his hips pinning her against the counter encouraging her to grind against his thigh.

"If we don't have time tell me no, Kate. Tell me you don't want me and I'll stop."

His hand was playing with the hem of her shirt now, his eyes questioning as she moaned desperately again, the heat rising in her cheeks far too quickly, nodding before she could think. "Please. Please don't stop, Anthony."

A soft groan dropped from Anthony's lips this time as his forehead fell against hers when her shirt fluttered to the ground, his hand tilting her chin upwards while he claimed her lips roughly, his tongue flicking against the roof of her mouth in time with his fingers curling against her, in time with the rough rock of his hips.

The sizzling of the stove was the only thing that broke the noise of their gasps drawn in tandem as his tongue moved over her chest, slowly making it's way back to her lips, bouncing off the white marble, the feel of Anthony's muscles flexing against her, and she fell over the edge, her sharp cry swallowed by his tongue.

Their was an awfully smug smile on Anthony's lips when he set her back on her feet, his tongue curling around his fingers with a satisfied hum, "Lovely."

Kate felt a pathetic noise leave her lips, her hands tugging him back against her chest, tugging the shorts down her legs. "We're not done."

Anthony's eyes darkened again as they met, tension crackling between them for a long moment as his entire body seemed poised to pounce.

And then he did, a feral growl ripped free for his chest as he darted forward, his lips claiming hers roughly in a searing kiss that made Kate's legs a little weak, his hands wandering all over her body, gripping and groping and tugging at her in his desperation.

Kate pushed lightly against his chest, creating a tiny amount of space between them, Anthony's eyes fluttering closed for a moment when she ducked her head, tugging on the tiny gold ring through his nipple with her teeth before she turned around, placing her hands on the edge of the countertop and pushing purposefully back against him with her hips.

Anthony's arms covered her instantly, tugging roughly at her waist until she wrapped her legs back around him, suspended by his arm around her hips, and her own hands on the counter.

The first snap of his hips sent her eyes rolling back in her head, sent a sharp cry from her lips, skittering across the marble, but Anthony gave her no time to recover. His pace was punishing, relentless, the noise of them moving together growing and growing, the smell of his soap and the sweat from her body mingling together in the air while his free and groped at her chest pushing the harder and faster.

Anthony's voice was a growl, barked across the room through clenched teeth, the movement of his heaving shoulders felt against her, the water from his chest sliding against her skin, sending goosebumps to her skin as it cooled.

That's it Kate. Fuck baby, Fuck! Look at you! Just fucking look at you! It's so good, Babe, you're always so fucking good for me aren't you?

Kate couldn't breathe, every one of their movements stole something from her chest until all she could do was gasp his name against him like it was the only thing in the entire world she remembered.

And everything shattered.

A scream tore from her chest leaving her throat raw, drowned out by a roar from Anthony as his hips thrust erratically and everything went still.

"Holy, Fucking Jesus!" Anthony gasped as he set her gently back on her feet, spinning her to press his lips lightly against hers.

Kate tried to roll her eyes, though her lungs were still burning. "Oh Please. As if that wasn't exactly what you had in mind when you propositioned me just before an innocent family gathering."

"Speaking of innocent family gatherings," Violet's voice through the door startled them both, clearly mortified at what she'd no doubt overheard. "If you could just dressed so we could all come inside and pretend we didn't hear that: that'd be nice!"

[pinkchanelbag]

apartment 6C. [e. jaeger]

the annoying guy in the apartment above you refuses to keep quiet, so it’s time to fight fire with fire.

cw: not proofread? idk like cussing also armin’s high lol

wc: 1k.

note: yes i got lazy in the end so what? idk this is just a funny idea i had it has potential but i am simply too tired to continue it rn enjoy lol.

“jesus christ i’m gonna fucking kill him!”

“is that—oh...okay,” jean doesn't get to finish his sentence before you get up from your place at the coffee table, round the couch, and yank open the tiny storage room in the kitchen.

“can’t you just file a complaint?” sasha asks. her eyes follow you curiously as she nestles an open box of pizza in her lap on the loveseat.

“you saying she should snitch?” connie pulls a face that’s meant for her, but his eyes are glued to the tv screen as his posture jerks left and right in accordance to the xbox controller in his hands.

you return with indistinct grumbles under your breath. jean snickers at you until he sees what you’ve brought back.

“fighting fire with fire?” he cranes his neck up from his seat on the floor to look at you standing. you give him a deadpan expression before stepping up onto the coffee table, taking the bright red broom in both your hands, and knocking the pointy end into the ceiling. one, two, three, four times, firm and fast.

“woah!” armin’s entire body jolts, the book in his one open palm getting tossed to the floor and the joint in between the fingers of his other hand dangerously close to being loosed. “what the hell was that!?”

“what?” eren calls to his friend from the other room. the kitchen door swings open as he steps through with two beers tucked between his long fingers and the other hand holding his phone to his line of vision.

“that scared the shit out of me,” armin breathes. “loud ass knocking from the floor below.”

eren’s eyes flick up from his phone. his hair sticks out of his small ponytail messily, a result of his frenzied reactions to watching the football game that has only just recently ended. the game was neck and neck the entire time, and it completely fried his nerves, not to mentions his friends’. at some point eren put armin in such an excited chokehold that mikasa had to chop him on the nape of his neck before the blond passed out. but it was still a win, topped off with panned shots of the stadium chanting we will rock you with deafening claps and stomps. armin and mikasa shared bemused looks at the way eren sang and percussed along like a little kid watching cartoons. yeah, he’d gotten a little rowdy.

“whatd’ya mean?” he asks to be sure.

“like, it sounded like if someone was pounding on a door except the door...was the floor,” armin leans back against the seat behind him and rests his head on the cushion, legs spread out across the floor and his joint-carrying arm raised high in the air, clearly already over the disturbance. he doesn’t catch the grin that rises slowly to eren’s face.

“she thinks she’s slick.”

“you’re gonna put a hole in your ceiling,” sasha tells you with curious eyes and no particular warning in her tone. her mouth works around the pizza as she talks.

“if it means it’ll fuck up his flooring, then i won’t mind as much,” you scoff, taking jean’s extended hand to help you down from the table.

“will somebody pleeease play mario kart with me,” connie hollers. any potential reply is cut short by a booming thud that has all four of you jumping out of your skin. sasha makes an eep sound chokes on her pizza, and connie—whose remote flew out of his hands at the sound— gets up to thump against her back as she coughs.

“what the fuck?” jean asks in genuine disbelief. it seems he’s finally catching on to the situation at hand. and then he’s looking at you, and you’re fuming.

“do you enjoy making people not like you?” armin asks his friend. there’s a confused frown etched onto his face as he watch eren drop a heavy dumbbell he’d retrieved from his room onto his hardwood floor.

“not especially, but with this girl it’s fun.”

“what girl?” armin asks, and he’s crawling onto the couch to lay on his back.

“lives under. she goes to trost too, but probably in a different school.” he lifts the dumbbell with one hand, veins protruding up his arm, and places it next to the tv stand before coming to sit on the floor in front of the couch. “annoying...as hell. like, gives me a dirty look if i take more than one of the complementary muffins in the lobby. complementary literally means free,” he says incredulously. his hand reached up to yank out his hairtie and re-pull his hair away from his face for a new bun. “plus, she’s friends with that guy jean.”

“from high school? didn’t he like mikasa?” armin asks. with eyes closed and his hands behind his head, he looks like the definition of unbothered. eren hums in confirmation.

“yeah, imagine my fuckin’ horror when i come home one day to see the hot girl who lives a floor down with horse face.” he pauses for a moment before continuing the one-sided conversation, though he doesn’t appear fazed. “they’re not together though. she comes home from dates or whatever sometimes.” armin makes an mhm sound as an act of attentiveness.

“ready?” connie asks. upon getting the okay, resounding crashes and clangs echo through the panels of wood beneath eren’s body. it’s not as startling as knocking, but tenfold more annoying.

“keep going!” jean yells over the crashing pots and pans. he begins alternating between banging his spatula into the casserole pan and onto the ceiling itself. connie hits the inside of his pot with a wooden spoon as if ringing a church bell, hand moving almost too fast to see. he pairs this with a sound akin to a turkey gobble, high and aggressive like a war cry. and finally, you and sasha each grip the handle of a large metal wok and smack its underside over and over again with your own tools of choice.

“eren,” armin says in part-groan part-whine. “why’d you provoke her? i’m tryna sleep.”

but the brunette’s attention is elsewhere. once again, that sly smile plastered to his face, he’s all too cheerful for a person whose ears are undergoing a violent assault.

“you know what this means, right...?” eren says. armin hmphs.

“you’re a child.”

“this means war, man.”

[applesontheground]

bubba sawyer, brahms heelshire and stu macher with s/o who loves to play tabletop rpg

ok, first of all cute?? second of all, i've played D&D with my high school friends since 2017, so let me see what i can do for you! :3 (that being said, this is the RPG that will be talked about lol! it’s the one i know the most about!)

headcanons - Bubba Sawyer, Brahms Heelshire, & Stu Macher with an S/O who enjoys tabletop RPGs (GN reader)

Bubba Sawyer 🐖

☆ He’s so down! He’s already the kind of partner that gets all giddy about doing mundane things with you so long as it means he gets to be attached to you at the hip, but after you bring up that you like to play these elaborate games that require a bit of imagination, he’d be intrigued. Like most new players, he’ll need you to go over rules a couple times, but once he has it down you have a very engaged and rather creative person to play with. Assuming you’re DM/head of the table, you’d find yourself rather surprised by what he brings to the games you play. “Hey, that mini figure isn’t in my set. … What do you mean you ‘made’ it, Bubba? Out of what? … Huh. You made a Mimic? Oh shit, let me see-”

☆ POV: You guys playing on a night where chaos is anticipated and have to be ready for an interruption at any moment. The idea of Bubba having to play with his saw right under his chair because he’s got to be ready at a moment’s notice to get the fuck out there and do what he does best. ...Idk, this was just a cute side thought I immediately pictured when I was writing this.

☆ If you want to keep this between you and him, something the two of you can use to take a breather from everything else, then God forbid his brothers get wind of it. Chop and Nubbins would want anything and everything to do with it, inserting themselves into your session or yelling out commentary while the two of you try to play. They’re definitely the types that would propose crazy plot diversions in the campaign or talk over everyone else without meaning to (they’re just excited lol). Drayton would be watching with a frown and raised eyebrows, promptly walking away to mutter about how pointless the whole thing is and how you can’t even see what’s going on half the time, but you’ve caught him in the other room pausing in his own chores as you’re making a Stealth check during a tense moment, or making a face at something you decided to add.

☆ Grandpa would be a fairly docile spectator, though. He gets the honor to roll the d100 when needed. c:

Brahms Heelshire 🎭

☆ Unless you have another hobby that’s able to take up your free time, you most likely play a lot of games with Brahms already. At first, you had to as part of what was asked by the Heelshires, and now that you know about the man it’s even more so. At least he can move his own pieces this time...

☆ He likes games that require structure, and in turn might be a little lost with the imaginative side at first. Once you get him going, though, he takes like a duck to water. He’s good at creating dramatic moments in plots that you otherwise wouldn’t have planned! His inquisitions will also throw you in a loop, because half of the time the details he’s picked up on wouldn’t have even been something you gave an extra moment of thought to...

☆ Like Bubba, he’s also a very polite player. Well, that is when the dice rolling works in his favor 😬😬😬 Otherwise he’s highkey a poor sport. Basically, at his best he’s a rich storyteller and a resourceful eye to play with. At his worst, he’s scrapping the whole game because he got a strike of bad luck or the story didn’t pan the way he wanted it to.

☆ He’d also be a great DM when he has a full understanding of the game. Actually, maybe letting him call the shots would be better suited for him in general. Fuckin’ brat (affectionate).

Stu Macher 📞

☆ This man can’t sit still to save his life, so good luck haha! He’d be the guy stacking his dice set into a little tower in the corner, distracting other players by talking, forgetting it’s his turn and not knowing what the hell is going on while he decides what to do, etc. He’d be a dream at getting extra handbooks/drinks from the other room, though!

☆ He might give you a little bit of a hard time without meaning to, as well. His voice taking on that pestering high pitch as he stoops over your shoulder to look at the unopened box in your hands, “Oooooh, what kind of nerd shit is this, babe?” He’s sort of familiar with the premise, having been dragged to stores that have places to play these sorts of games before, but other than that he’s got nothing.

☆ There are moments where he actually plays, though. You knew he had it in him, recognizing that gleam in his eye when he tells you or another person to roll a Perception check for their character out of the blue... Definitely best suited for a Rogue class imo uwu

☆ When he realizes it’s a social thing that’s better with more than just you and him, it all starts to make more sense. You’re gonna end up playing it with a group that he scrapes together (and whether you know about that or not is up for debate). It’s his way of showing that he wants you to have fun, especially if you’re a DM-ing type. :3 Be forewarned, though: Randy will eventually come, and depending on how you feel about him it’s gonna be super fun/he’s going to give you a lot of good advice, or you two will be fighting to talk over each other the entire time while Stu just sits there knowing what he’s done.

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 11.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Maya Jump Scares (My Fave!), Sweet Yoongi, Talks of BDSM, Mentions of Hard and Soft Limits, Sexual Teasing, Introducing OC to BDSM, Kissing, Panty Kink, Use Of The Color System, Bondage, Training Orgasms, Daddy Kink, Breast Play, Degradation (Slut), Squirting, Mentions of Lactation Kink, Yoongi Cries, Pet Names, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Edging, Multiple Orgasms, Embarrassed Yoongi

A/N: Good luck. I'm fucking DEAD. Always a shout out to the greats @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna

Yoongi probably hasn't slept this well in a long time. Probably since he was a kid.

It's difficult for him to rouse from his slumber. It's comforting to feel your limbs contorting around his. He can feel himself drooling on your pillow distantly.

Everything feels like a dream right now. 

He can feel your head laying on his arm. His hand is pressed to your stomach still and he feels such peace.

Opening his eyes, he can make out the chandelier on the ceiling. The daylight rays that bleed through the window bounce off of the Swarovski crystals that hang and they sprinkle the walls and ceilings with rainbow lights.

He would have never noticed these things before. Did last night change something in him? 

Looking around the room, he jumps at the sight of Maya as she leans against the marble wall.

He sighs loudly, his hand running through his hair as his heart beats rapidly.

"What?!" he mouths to her.

Looking over at you, he brushes some hair off of your sleeping face. The baby must be making you so tired.

You did work hard last night on the delicious dinner you made. That might tire you out too.

Maya raises her eyebrows at the both of you in bed.

You groan at the light that now shines on your face since your hair has been moved.

Throwing your body over Yoongis' with a whine, he shushes you gently on instinct.

"Go back to sleep, little dove. You're alright." he whispers gently.

"It's twelve o'clock." Maya mouths to him, holding up his Rolex watch.

He's late for work.

Looking down at you, he watches how peaceful you are in your sleep.

He doesn't care about work. He's perfectly content where he is. 

He flicks his hand, telling the woman who is like his mother to go away. 

With a smile, she bows her head. "Sir."

"Yoongi?" your voice is laden with sleep.

He finds himself smirking as you whisper his voice.

"Right here. I didn't leave," he promises as you pick your head up off of his arm.

"I slept like a brick," you mumble.

Chucking to himself, Yoongi can only agree.

"Me too. I'm late for work." he jeers.

You sit up quickly, eyes roaming the room before finding the digital clock by the bed.

"It's twelve! You're so late!" you gasp loudly.

"It's okay, I'm the boss, little dove."

"That's not a good excuse," you jeer, shoving his shoulder with a laugh.

He finds himself chuckling as he lays back down on the pillow. "I can work from home."

You pout at him, combing your hair over your shoulder as you sit up against the headboard.

"I haven't been up to the third floor, yet." you admit, stretching your limbs to a satisfying degree.

"I can show you what's up there. Maybe after we eat some brunch," the father of your child suggests, laying back down on the pillow.

"I'd like that," you reply, warmly.

Last night, you discovered so much about the man lying beside you. You could never imagine how hard his life has been. It's really a shame. 

But, there are times you find his sweet side peeking out. And you decide to focus on those instances from now on instead of the others.

He deserves it. 

You deserve it.

"Why haven't you made yourself at home?" Yoongi asks, gently.

Looking around the room, you notice the cardboard boxes of paintings and stuffed animals. Small little knick knacks piled up without a place to go.

Humming unsurely, you look around the room. "I just didn't feel like my stuff was good enough to put in here maybe? I didn't really feel the need to do it." you reply with a shrug.

Yoongi scoffs gently as he stands, twisting his back with a groan. The sounds of his bones cracking echo throughout the large room and you smirk as he walks over to the boxes.

You watch his legs contort and flex through his briefs and the image of his pert backside makes an eyebrow raise.

He is really good looking.

Picking up a stuffed red panda, he tilts his head at the cuteness. His eyes look down into the box and he notices just how many stuffed animals you have.

"Jesus, why do you have so many?" he asks with a laugh, continuously picking up some of the toys big and small.

Sitting up to look past him, you giggle.

"Every year during the Fall Festival, I get at least two. Their fun to get! Makes fun memories!" you reply happily as you stand up.

"You can remember every single memory for each stuffed animal?!" he sounds bewildered and it makes you laugh.

"Of course!"

"No fucking way!" he jeers.

Stepping beside him, you watch as he rifles through the box.

Pulling out a panda at the bottom of the box, he hands it to you.

"What memory is that, smarty pants?" he quips, leaning against the glass door to your balcony.

Your lips purse as you stare down at it.

"Well this is Yukhoe, I got him at the fair… seven years ago, I think? I won him for getting the most consecutive balls in the one thousand point hole during skeeball."

"Bullshit!" Yoongi cries with a laugh.

His laugh is so pretty. Even the gummy smile he gives you is heart stuttering.

"I'm serious!" you reply, shoving him gently with your hand.

He snorts loudly, rolling his eyes as he folds his arms.

"You should put them up if you have so many memories," he insists looking around the room.

You hum unsurely, placing the toy down to grab at your stomach.

"Or maybe you can put them in the babies' room? That'd be nice," Yoongi mumbles absentmindedly.

You find yourself smirking even amidst your morning sickness. He's being so kind. It's making butterflies appear when you thought it could never happen.

Finally, he looks back down at you. He notices how you clutch onto your stomach, how you lean against the armchair for support. 

"You feel sick?" he takes it upon himself to tie your hair up without argument.

"Just a little," you reply.

Helping you sit down, he crouches beside the chair. He rubs slow, soothing circles to your back as you rest your elbows on your knees.

"It'll go away," you promise. 

"I know, little dove. Sesame gremlin is really molding your body to how it sees fit," the CEO whispers.

Your heart feels warm as he speaks such kind words.

"You remembered," you whisper in awe, turning your head to look at him.

He smirks, furrowing his eyebrows. "I remembered? That you called it a sesame gremlin?"

You nod happily as he chuckles.

"That's our baby name for now, why would I forget that?" he asks, confused.

"Just didn't think you cared that much," you reply, the nausea starting to ebb away.

"Oh, I care. It's just hard for me to show it sometimes… Most of the time." he whispers, brushing some stray hairs away from your cheek.

You hum sweetly, a noise that fills the man beside you with glee.

"I feel a little better," you whisper, sitting back up.

"Good. Let's go get you some water and food, hmm?" he asks softly, helping you stand.

Watching you walk away to the bathroom, Yoongi can only describe this past encounter as comfortable. It just seems right. It feels domestic and warm. 

It feels so perfectly his.

"Frederic, that was amazing!" you say, setting down your fork.

The chef looks up at you from the pan, a wide smile set on his face.

"Madame. You flatter me. I am just your humble serviteur," the man says, bowing to you.

Yoongi rolls his eyes with a chuckle. 

It didn't take long for him to call his office and tell them that he would be working from home. But, it was just long enough for him to begin missing you while you were in the shower.

He's starting to become attached to you. He's only ever felt attached to Maya. 

"You have to go work, right?" you ask him as he wipes his mouth with a napkin.

He nods slowly, picking up his coffee while turning to you.

"Yeah, just gotta go over a few documents. You can come up with me though, if you want to. Bring a book or something?" he sounds shy as he asks you.

Not too long ago, that question would have made you feel uncomfortable. But now, you're more than content with agreeing.

"Sure, I'm almost done with a book I took from the library," you reply as he helps you down from the stool.

"What book are you reading?" he finds himself asking, his arm extends, politely telling you to walk first before him.

"Atlas Shrugged," you reply, ascending the stairs.

The prospect of you reading such a large book makes him impressed.

"When did you start reading the book?" he inquires softly, the both of you landing on the second floor.

"Two days ago," you say, walking towards your studio to grab the book.

"You're almost finished with a one thousand page book in two days?!" his voice is filled with awe as you pick up the hardcover book.

Turning to him, you press the book to your chest with a smile. "Well yeah, it's a great book."

His lips purse, seeming impressed. "Well goddamn, you're an enigma aren't you, little dove?" 

 The third floor is perfectly grandiose. There are small cases filled with what seem to be heirlooms lining the marble walls. 

"No one really comes up here." Yoongi explains as you walk through the large hallway.

The two wings at the top seem to be filled with crates and boxes. There are white sheets that cover many pieces of furniture and at night you would hate to be up here. It seems like it would be creepy and daunting.

"Most pieces of furniture and the art and statues in the crates haven't been added down to the museum wings, yet. I just leave them up here." Yoongi says as you wade through them all.

"So interesting," you quip, lifting a white sheet to look at the pretty furniture beneath it.

"Kinda creepy." Yoongi says, folding his arms.

You hate to admit it but you nod along with his words.

"Just a little," you reply with a giggle.

"Come," he whispers softly.

As you continue back to the main hallway, you feel his hand on your lower back once more and it fills you with a sense of calm. 

He's getting good at that these days.

"This is my office," he says, opening up the double doors.

Everything in this room is pristine and you can tell that it's never been used before last week.

As you go to step inside, your feet linger as a black door down the hallway catches your attention.

"What's that room?" you ask, curiously.

Your feet taking off without you.

"Oh, little dove! Wait!" Yoongi cries out as you step in front of the door.

It has a fingerprint key to it. Seems secretive.

"This is just a room of my hobbies and stuff," he sounds absolutely embarrassed.

His hand rubs at the back of his neck and you notice how his irises shake with nerves, looking from the room and then back to you.

"Show me," you whisper as he leans against the wall.

He hums unsurely. 

You sound so excited about it. 

"It's really not for you to see." he replies.

Frowning, you tug on the door handle which gives no reaction.

"Come on. It can't be that bad. Unless, you have dead bodies in here," you joke.

Rolling his eyes, he sighs gently. He doesn't want to see you frown. So, against his better judgement -- he puts his thumb on the fingerprint scanner. The noise echoes throughout the silent floor and he clears his throat awkwardly.

"It's a BDSM room. I've never used it though," he says quickly, opening up the door.

"Whoa," you whisper as the room is opened up to you.

Automatic lights turn on as you step inside. 

The walls are all black marble and the large bed that sits at the far end of the room is mocha brown. 

You can tell the sheets are satin and luxurious even from far away. 

But, the main thing that catches your attention is the multitude of cabinets and drawers that line the walls almost artistically.

Yoongi watches you with nervous eyes. He watches how you run your hand over the wooden fixtures that line the walls.

"What's this?" you find yourself asking.

You point to a large black X figure that is attached to the wall.

The CEO rubs his hands together nervously, pushing himself off of the door frame to walk closer.

"It's an X cross. You hop on these footrests and you get shackled to it," he sounds uncomfortable as he speaks.

"Cool." you reply, setting down the book to hop on.

"Whoa! No! You're pregnant, be careful!" he whines, putting his hands on your rib cage to keep you up against the cross.

"So? Just because I'm pregnant, doesn't mean I'm broken," you quip, putting your hands on his shoulders.

"Little dove," he admonishes softly.

He looks up at you on the cross and the dirtiest things begin to flit through his mind.

Imagining you naked, with your hands and feet shackled to the cross. Seemingly incapacitated as he strokes your pretty pussy. 

What would it be like if your belly was bigger? He'd be able to rub--

"Get down," he begs.

Rolling your eyes, you hop off of the cross.

"You're no fun," you quip, walking around him to the wall of riding crops and canes.

"I am fun!" he retorts, folding his arms once more.

"What's this?" you ask softly, your fingers running through the multitude of leather strands that hang from the top.

"It's a flogger," the father of your child mumbles through gritted teeth.

He sighs softly as you pull it off the wall.

Rearing back, you snap the flogger to your hand and your palm sings with the devilish sting.

"Ow," you whisper softly.

Yoongi watches your eyebrows contort in pain and he's quick to rip the toy from your grasp. It tugs at his heart.

"Stop. You're going to hurt yourself," he admonishes, once more.

The way he speaks, even if it's supposed to come out gruff and annoyed, it just sounds caring and worried. Which is why you're perfectly okay with continuing along with your nosy inquiries.

"Do you like to flog people? Or hit them with this?" you ask, taking a large, thick cane off of the wall.

The way he sighs, it makes you smirk.

"Depends on the situation. How bratty the sub is being," he throws the word bratty right at you and it makes you smile.

"So would you be caning me or?" you quip as you turn to him.

His tongue licks at his lips at the prospect of it.

"I would be fucking wrecking you until you're begging," he mumbles, pulling the thick cane out of your hand.

"So let's play," you whine, tugging his hand over to the bed.

His eyes flutter shut and it takes all of his inner strength to pull away from you.

"You're pregnant. Stop it," he chides, hanging the toys back on their appointed shelves.

"No fun," you mumble, sitting down on the bed.

The bed hugs you comfortingly and you hum in appreciation laying back.

Turning to you, the father of your child watches as your shirt rides up. He can see the small little bump beginning to form and he clenches his teeth at the sight.

"I have to work," he reminds you, watching you run your hands over the satin sheets.

"Go ahead. I'll be here, playing with myself. You have vibrators?" you giggle as his eyebrows furrow.

"Come on, little dove," he says, already heading to the doorway. 

With a small giggle you stand up, you'll break him. In time.

It's difficult for Yoongi to pay attention to work, once again. His eyes keep drifting to you over his laptop. You finished the book in the first hour that you've been in his office. 

Now scrolling through your phone, you pretend not to notice how he stares at you over the lip of his computer.

The light from your phone highlights your swollen breasts and the CEO finds himself shifting in his seat a multitude of times. 

Just thinking about you in that room is doing things to him. He constantly tries to swat away the thought of having you in that room. But it's becoming more difficult as the hours go on.

What's so wrong with having sex with pregnant women? 

There's really nothing wrong with it per se. But he feels like they should be more paternal, no? You're carrying a child, would you also be indulging in sexual acts? 

He doesn't know how to feel anymore. Like he's thought countless times before, you're fucking with his head.

"This says that Doms and Subs have a contract," you speak aloud.

Yoongi huffs out gently, putting his hands over his face. 

You're getting too obsessed with this.

"Sometimes," he replies softly.

"Do we need to have a contract?" you ask with a smile.

He snorts gently at how pleased you look.

"No, little dove. We're not having sex, so of course there is no need for a contract." he says through gritted teeth.

You are really something else.

Crossing your legs, you scroll through the website.

He tries to focus on the many words that are staring him in the face but he keeps looking back at you as your eyes continue to light up.

"Oh! Soft limits. Let's start here," you say happily.

Yoongi puts his hands in his hair, tugging softly on the strands.

He feels like he's going crazy.

"Y/N, please," he whispers, almost begging you.

"We promised each other that we would be truthful to one another."

Rolling his eyes, he replies. "Yes, in the sense that if either of us asks a question we would answer it honestly. Not in the sense that if you suddenly find yourself on a BDSM website, you feel compelled to tell me the truth about what soft limits you're setting for yourself in a non-existent dom slash sub relationship." 

Scowling playfully, you roll your eyes.

"Well. My soft limits are as follows."

Yoongi sighs loudly, grabbing the glass of whisky off his desk to keep his thoughts at bay.

He feels his lips tugging upward as you look through the website.

So annoyingly cute sometimes.

"Breast bondage is a soft limit. Because they hurt a lot right now," you murmur.

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, his eyes narrowing at you.

You're trying to rile him up. He can feel it.

"Little dove," he warns you as you lean closer to the desk.

"Nipple clamps, not sure if I'd be okay with that right now. Anal play, never done it so I'm not sure if I'd like it. Over the knee spanking, won't be able to do that soon." 

Yoongi sips his whisky slowly, letting the warmth of the alcohol curl around his muscles.

"You've never had your ass played with before?" he asks, obviously intrigued.

Got him.

"No. I've only ever been with a few people before and they didn't seem into that sort of stuff," you reply.

He scoffs gently. Your ass is one for the ages, you should have been played with.

"Maybe after you give birth, I'll show you." he suggests above the lip of his glass.

"Sounds like a promise," you quip.

He smirks gently, leaning back into his chair. "Maybe, little dove." 

"What are your limits?" you inquire, trying to push him more.

He hums, closing his laptop. Clearly, he won't be working anymore today.

"I usually only write hard limits. No fecal or piss play. No straight jackets. No pony play. Shit like that." 

"I have no idea what any of that means besides the shit play," you reply, making him laugh.

"Why are you so obsessed with this all of a sudden?" Yoongi inquires, raising his eyebrow.

"Well it's something you enjoy, so I'm curious about it! You took an interest in my painting. And, I like the idea of getting interested in what you enjoy. You seem very safe and protective of your hobby and that's great!" you say happily, leaning against the desk.

The CEO hums gently at your kind words.

"You're so sweet," he mumbles, resting his chin on his hand.

Fine, he'll play along.

"Is fisting a soft limit or a hard limit?" he inquires.

Locking your phone, you turn your chair more towards him as he throws his feet up on the desk.

"I've never tried it before but it seems painful," you reply honestly to him.

His tongue slowly licks over his lips at the simple thought of you beneath him.

"What about butt plugs? Any preference?" 

"Never tried them," you whisper, picking up your glass of water.

His lips sputter as you tilt your head. 

This feels so free and so right. It's playful and fun. The sexual tension just adds to how normal this all feels.

"You haven't tried a lot of stuff, have you?" he asks, taking his feet off the table to stand.

"No actually, I haven't. I've always been kind of prude when it came to sex. Me and you in the back room was just a one off really. I don't really do that sort of thing," you explain truthfully.

He hums in agreement, rounding the desk. "So I'm special?" 

You certainly think so.

"Maybe," you whisper, your head tilting as he steps behind your chair.

"If I show you my hobby one time, will you leave it alone?" he asks gently, bending down to your ear.

His breath is warm against your now flushing skin.

Since getting pregnant, when you aren't feeling sick or tired, you've found yourself overwhelmingly horny. It's almost a fucking sin.

"I don't think you'll be able to satiate yourself after just one time," you quip, feeling his hands run over your shoulders.

"Oh, little dove. I have the patience and strength to keep myself at bay." he replies, his lips drifting over the shell of your ear.

Yoongi thinks if he can just get this out of his system once then it'll be safer. He's been without sex for a while now and he's perfectly okay with keeping it that way. He'll just take back some wank bank footage and then he won't have to continue thinking about it.

"Will you be gentle with me?" you find yourself asking, your voice sounds small and it makes Yoongi's cock begin to harden beneath his briefs.

"I'll take very good care of you, little dove. I promise." he says, holding out his hand.

You feel excitement starting to creep through you. You've been thinking about this for a while now, if you're being honest. When you had sex with him in that back room, it was the greatest sexual experience you've ever had.

Taking his hand, you find him smiling down at you. 

"Come on, little dove. Time is money." 

His voice is more playful this time around and it makes you giggle. Winking at you, he tugs you out of the large office.

"We'll go by the color system for today, okay?" the father of your child asks softly, unlocking the secret room with his fingerprint.

"Color system?" you ask, gently.

He hums in agreement, running his hands over your sides as the door shuts behind him.

Bending down, his eyes flicker to your lips. 

God, he hasn't kissed you in so long. Is this something else he can indulge in just for today?

Taking shallow breaths, his hand cups your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut at the softness, breath hitching as you wait patiently.

This feels so right.

Without a second thought, he presses his lips to yours. 

You've almost forgotten what he tastes like. You've forgotten how excited and on edge you were in that back room.

Groaning against your lips, the tip of his tongue traces the seam for you to part for him.

His hands grip at the globes of your ass. "Jump." he whispers against your lips.

Doing as told, you mewl into the kiss. You wrap your legs around his strong waist, hands carding through his hair.

His tongue is rough over yours, taking the small gasps and moans you give to him freely.

Yoongi walks towards the bed, laying you down gently as he climbs over you.

Pulling away from you, his lips are red and raw. His eyes are hooded with lustful intentions.

You've both been thinking about this for a while now. 

"What do you say to me if you want to play?" he asks, sitting up.

Your eyes trail over his body, finally landing on his erection that strains almost painfully through his pants.

Licking your lips, your mind completely goes blank.

"Little dove, you answer me when I'm talking to you. Or have you forgotten?" Yoongi asks, running his hands over your clothed legs.

Your mouth opens to reply but it isn't fast enough for the CEO. 

Pinching your inner thigh just hard enough to cause a reaction, he smirks as you squeal softly.

"Answer me, little dove. Or I'll go back to my office and we can forget all of this playful fun," he threatens.

Pouting up at him, he simply chuckles.

"Daddy." you whisper.

"That's it." he replies, bending back down to kiss you.

You can feel your loins beginning to curl and unfurl with hopeful desires. 

"Take off your clothes only on the upper half of your body. I wanted you stripped by the time I get back to this bed," Yoongi's voice is dominating as he whispers against your lips.

Reaching up to kiss him once more, you find him already pulling away. 

"You're not going to fuck me?" you ask, quickly taking off your clothes to accommodate his words.

"No, little dove. You're pregnant," he reminds you, digging through a drawer for rope.

You roll your eyes at his words. It's always pregnant this or pregnant that.

"It's perfectly safe to have sex while I'm pregnant y'know," you tell him hopefully as you unhook your bra.

"I'm sure it is, little dove." he replies softly.

Once he finds rope that he thinks is suitable, he tugs it in his hands a few times to hear the fabric snapping back onto itself.

The sound sends a shiver down your spine, your heart starts to beat faster with excitement.

"Are you naked for me?" he asks, focusing his eyes on the many toys that hang on the wall.

"Yes," you reply, breathlessly.

He's afraid to turn around. What if he falls deeper into his lustful ways for you if he sees you so bare before him?

He has this unrelenting fascination with you so far. Something that truly makes his palms sweat. You're so good and kind, so beautiful and understanding.

What if he just continues to fall? He doesn't know how he'll be able to cope or cushion himself.

He musters his strength. 

Turning around, he takes in your swollen breasts, your veins visible against your skin from how huge they're already becoming. Your nipples are bigger, darker and puffy.

"Oh fuck," he curses under his breath.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He's not going to be able to keep this at a one off at this rate.

"Are they okay?" you ask nervously, looking down at your breasts as he continues to ogle.

"You're gorgeous," he assures you, walking slowly back over to the bed.

With the sweet compliment soothing you, you find it easy to lay back.

Drifting his thumb slowly over his bottom lip, he takes you in.

"Take off your pants," he instructs as he sits on the edge of the bed.

He watches you do as told, his eyes drifting over your breasts to the small bump that's growing slowly but surely.

You're a vision to look at. 

Unfortunately for Yoongi, he's already becoming attached to you in everything. 

"Give me your panties," he commands.

"I think you have a panty kink," you quip, throwing your underwear on his lap.

Chuckling, he stands up putting your panties into his back pocket.

"Just your panties, little dove. We're going to go over some instructions before we play, okay?" he asks, running his free hand over your bare side.

The warmth of his hand makes your body go rigid. You nod understandingly as he bends down to kiss you.

"When I'm with a new sub or," his thumb grazes over your cheek as he pulls away from you, "a very beautiful mother of my child. There needs to be rules." 

"I'm listening," you reply, earnestly.

"We're going to use the color system. Green means it's okay to keep going. Yellow means to proceed with caution. Red means to stop. If you say red at any point, that's it. It's over. We don't have to play anymore. If it gets too much you have to make sure you tell me red, do you understand?" his voice is gentle as he explains.

"Alright, that sounds fair." you say as he lets the rope fall loose from his hand.

"Can I tie you up? Is that okay with you?" 

The prospect is too good to deny. You nod with a small smile, sticking out your wrists.

"Repeat your colors for me while I tie you up, little dove." he instructs, pulling your arms over your head.

"Green for okay, yellow for slow and red for stop." you repeat for him, the neediness starting to seep into your voice. 

"Good girl," he praises you.

Pulling the rope tighter, he makes sure you have breathing room but not enough for you to get out.

"You're good at tying knots," you compliment, tugging on the restraints.

Yoongi chuckles as he slips down the bed to tie your feet. "Just call me a boy scout."

With a giggle, you wiggle your hips playfully as he travels south.

His eyes narrow up at you, a glint of happiness flitting through them as he smiles. He nips at your outer thigh, earning a gentle groan from your lips.

He doesn't even need to watch how fast his fingers move to tie you up, he could honestly do it with one hand behind his back. Instead, he decides to focus on you. To focus on how you squirm for him and how shallow your breathing is. He watches your chest heave up and down, your nipples turning into stiff peaks at his longing gaze.

He wants to remember this, remember all of this because this is a one off. And, he has to remember it as such.

Hopefully.

"You okay?" he asks, finishing up the knot tying.

"More than okay," you reply.

"We're going to try to train your orgasms, little dove. Make it so that your orgasms belong to me and only to me," his voice is gruff, the prospect of having your orgasms to himself and only himself is sending him into overdrive.

"You can do that?" you find yourself asking.

Situating himself between your stretched legs, he begins to smirk.

"I can, if you want to give your orgasms to me. Do you want that?" he asks, brushing some hair behind your ear.

While he has been caged off, you haven't been. You understand him more than ever and it would be special to have him control something so powerful. He's already given you a child, given you somewhere so grandiose to live. You can give him your carnal pleasure. 

So you nod.

"That's my girl," he whispers with a wink.

Bending down, his lips trace over your jaw. He takes in every hitched breath and every signal of rigidity as it sets into your bones.

"Your tits look so good." he compliments, earning a gentle gasp from you.

Your head turns, wanting to give him more access to the column of your neck. 

"You're going to need patience, little dove. You need to give yourself over to me completely, do you understand?" 

You can feel your arousal beginning to soak the sheets beneath you, your hands strain against the ropes begging to feel his body. "Y-Yes Daddy, I understand," you whisper softly.

"Good. I'm going to let you cum once and you tell me when you're about to cum, do you understand me?" he asks, pulling away from the shell of your ear to lock eyes with you.

You feel yourself falling into his mocha irises, can feel yourself wanting to give him your everything. "Yes."

"Good," he kisses your lips gently.

His lips continue to kiss over your skin, your hips bucking into the air for more.

"Behave or I'll stop," he threatens against the column of your throat.

Your eyes flutter shut, lips pressing into a straight line as he gently suckles on your skin.

He leaves small cherry blossom petals in his wake as he continues to lavish on your skin. 

This training is something Yoongi has always been good at. He's always thrived from being in a position of power. But for once, he has an overwhelming urge to please. Something he hasn't felt… well ever. 

Moving his hands up your side, you gasp loudly as he gently cups your breasts.

He shivers at how full they feel in his hands, how swollen and sensitive the skin is beneath his palms.

"Oh, Daddy!" you moan as he squeezes softly.

"What's your color, little dove?" he can barely contain himself above you, his cock is so hard and throbbing within the confines of his jeans.

"G-Green, Daddy. Feels so fucking good!" you whine, your head lolling back as he continues to squeeze.

"Fuck, I bet it does," he whispers, kissing over your collarbone.

Pulling away from you, he can see how flushed your skin is. He can see how swollen your clit is already becoming and he knows that he can make you cum easily without even having to touch you.

"You're a little slut, aren't you?" 

You whimper at his words. It takes you back to the night you were together.

You enjoyed hearing how dirty he could talk. How perfectly degrading his words can be.

"Your slut, Daddy. I promise," you moan out as his knees knock your legs open wider.

"Yeah, I bet you are. Pregnant with my baby and letting me take your pleasure how I see fit," he mumbles.

Biting your bottom lip, your body shudders as his thumbs swipe over your sensitive nipples. 

You gasp loudly, your body undulating beneath him.

"I've-I've wanted you to touch me for so long," you moan, tugging on the restraints. 

His lips turn upwards into a smirk at your words. He's been wanting it for a while too.

"Me too," he replies truthfully.

His thumbs and index fingers nibbley roll your nipples.

Trailing his eyes over your body, he can see how much arousal is trailing down your perineum and soaking the bed. His eyes flutter shut at how gorgeous and vulnerable you are beneath him. 

He lets his lips trail over the curve of your breast, releasing one to reach for the apex of your thighs.

Your body shudders under his touch, preening for more.

Picking up your spilt arousal on his fingers, he suckles on them. God, he almost forgot what you taste like. 

"Jesus Christ." he mumbles.

His tongue peeks out, flicking quickly at your stiff peaked nipple.

Your gasps and moans goad him on, he can barely pay attention as your breath becomes shorter and stunted.

You can feel the band within you tightening.  

You would have never thought that you could be on the brink of an orgasm with Yoongi just playing with your breasts.

"D-Daddy, I'm so close." you whine, spreading your legs wider with hopes your center will be touched.

He hums in agreement as he forsakes one breath for the other.

He makes a mental note of how sensitive you are for him. 

Suckling your nipple into his mouth, he moans against your skin. 

"Daddy, I'm cumming!" you moan loudly, your back bowing off of the bed as white hot pleasure courses through your bones. 

He pulls off of you, rolling and pinching your nipples with his fingers until you're orgasming beneath him.

Your ears ring, mouth going dry as you babble his name incessantly.

"Good girl, little dove." he praises and he raises an eyebrow as you squirt onto the sheets below you.

He takes all of this in. Every little reaction you had to his advances, all of your ques to elude to your orgasm. You'd be very easy to train. 

He waits patiently for you to come down from your orgasm, stroking your skin lovingly.

"What's your color, beautiful?" he asks softly, palming the erection in his pants.

"G-Green." you whisper, already wanting more.

You don't want this to end, and you don't want this to be a one off.

"Well aren't you just such a good little sub," he jeers, bending down to kiss you.

You could get drunk off of his kisses. They make you feel on top of the world. You want to please him, really and truly please him.

"Can I suck your cock, Daddy?" your voice is so innocent as you ask.

He groans gently, cupping your cheek. "No, little dove. That isn't a part of this." he replies, against your lips.

His hand drifts from your cheek to between your breasts before finally situating over your stomach.

He swallows thickly, feeling how hard your womb is beneath his hand.

"Please? If it's a one off, you should get pleasure, too." you suggest coyly, thrusting your breasts closer to his face.

His gummy smile appears then, almost breaking your fragile heart. "I'm already getting pleasure from seeing you beneath me."

His thumb drifts slowly over the almost invisible bump on your stomach.

You begin to pout, tugging roughly on the restraints that hold you bound.

"Yoongi, please?" you whisper, eyebrows furrowing as you beg.

He sighs gently, his bottom lip purchasing between his teeth as he thinks.

He really shouldn't. This isn't right.

"You're pregnant," his excuse is sounding weaker and weaker every time he says it.

"So? Doesn't mean I can't suck your dick, Daddy. Wouldn't you like to feel my breasts in your hands while I suck you off?" 

He groans gently at your questions, you can see his cock throbbing at your words.

"Little dove," he says breathlessly.

"I'll swallow for you, Daddy. Let you cum in my mouth." you whisper, laying back on the bed.

His eyes roll back at the prospect of it all.

"Maybe when my tits get bigger and filled with milk, you can suckle on them." 

"Jesus, when the fuck did your mouth get so filthy?" he wants to sound appalled but it comes out amused and turned on, as it should.

"Guess you'll have to clean it out. Let me suck your cock." you reply with a smirk.

"Oh fuck." he grumbles, unbuttoning his pants.

"This is a one off!" he reminds you gruffly, tugging down his pants and brief.

Untying your hands, he sighs gently to himself. He's going to give you whatever the fuck you want from now on, isn't he? What the fuck is wrong with him?

As you wait patiently for him to finish untying you, you stare at his cock as it rests against his stomach.

Even on the first night you were together, it's still a beautiful sight.

"This is supposed to be training." he mutters to himself.

You giggle to yourself as your wrists become free.

With over zealous confidence, you press your hands to his chest. Shoving him down, he laughs loudly.

"Watch yourself, little dove!" he chides, holding your hips steady as you straddle him.

You wrinkle your nose playfully at him and he can only smirk.

Man, you're infectious.

It feels good. Like, tingles inside of oneself and giddiness in spades.

Gripping both hands onto his shirt, you raise your eyebrows.

"This shirt was made in Italy." he warns you.

With a careless shrug you rip it open, hearing the buttons pop and scatter along the marble floor.

He shakes his head with a chuckle as you stare down at his toned body.

God, he's so fucking hot.

Your eyes drift over the planes of his abs and they get softer as you look at the small circular burn marks from cigarettes.

"Wait," he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut.

You keep your eyes on his face as you bend down. 

"I don't normally let people touch my-- oh, God," he cries out as your lips drift over his skin.

Your lips feel healing against his skin. His hands grip at your sides rougher as you take your time worshipping his stomach.

His breathing is ragged and his palms are becoming sweaty.

"You're very handsome," you say, kissing over the biggest burn.

His body shivers and undulates under your touch.

He's never felt such odd comfort before.

"O-Okay. Little dove, e-enough," he practically begs.

Maybe he needs training too. Training on how to be loved.

You take pity on him, leaving his burn marks alone for now. 

He sighs gratefully, bringing his hand to his face to wipe away tears he didn't know had even arrived.

"You're so sweet, little dove." he mumbles, carding his fingers through your hair.

You smile up at him kindly, the act making his heart beat quicker inside of his chest.

Focusing back on the task at hand, you run your lips over his long length earning a hiss through clenched teeth from the father of your child below you.

"Fuck," he curses, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

Wrapping your hand around his length, you watch precum begin to pearl incessantly at the seam of his mushroom head.

You look up at him for confirmation and he smirks at your subservience. 

"Very good, little dove. You may." he says, gripping your hair tighter with anticipation.

Swirling your tongue around the head, you take immense pleasure in the way he groans. The groan is long and stunted and you know you're pleasing him already.

"That's it, baby." 

The pet name slips so freely and he doesn't take it back as you bow your head down farther.

"Fuuuck, keep going." he instructs.

Licking his tongue over his lips, he curses gently beneath his breath as you begin a rhythm.

Stroking whatever doesn't fit in your mouth, you can hear words of praise leaving his lips like a prayer.

Your arousal has started to drip down your thighs at this point and Yoongi stares for the longest time, dying to be inside of you.

"Take it all. Like you did the night we made our baby," he commands.

With a gentle moan, you swallow around him. Gagging and sputtering on his cock, your vision becomes blurry with tears.

"Fuck, you're so good at sucking my cock. Jesus Christ!" he moans loudly, his eyes rolling back as you hollow your cheeks around him.

His free hand comes up to palm your swollen breast, being as gentle as he can in the throes of his pleasure.

"You're all mine, huh? I can just take you up here whenever the fuck I want, can't I?" he asks through gritted teeth.

His mouth is getting looser as his pleasure takes over.

You moan in agreement, getting sloppier on his cock. Precum and spittle stream down your chin as you continue to please him.

"You're such a bad girl, little dove. You're too good at sucking my cock, gonna make me want you over and over again."

That's the plan.

With a gentle whine, you let him into the recesses of your throat. His head falls back to the bed, his hips gyrating and thrusting on their own.

"Little pregnant slut, begging to be full of me when she's got my kid inside her. That what you want? You want to be my pregnant slut?" 

You moan loudly against his cock as he begins to precum once more.

Tugging his hand off of your breast, you pull it to your parted thighs.

He curses loudly, feeling how much of your arousal is soaking his fingers. He begins to rub quick circles on your swollen clit, feeling it throb beneath the pads of his fingers.

"You're gonna kill me." he threatens through gritted teeth.

Rocking your hips in time with his fingers, you practically lose yourself when his cock begins to throb for release in your throat.

"Squeeze my thigh when you're about to cum." he warns you and you moan in reply.

Everything about this is so perfect and so yours.

You forget everything going on besides just the two of you in this bed.

It's like it's meant to be.

"Messy little thing," he praises, letting your hair go to wipe your chin.

Sitting up on one elbow, he watches you in your entranced pleasure.

He can feel himself coming to an end but he edges himself, pushing away his orgasm until you do.

With a loud whine, you squeeze his thigh harshly begging to cum for him.

"Uh uh. You wait until Daddy says you can cum." 

You mewl sadly around his cock, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Countdown from ten and then cum." he instructs.

Doing as told you count slowly, breathing shallowly through your nose as he continues to fuck up into your mouth. 

Reaching ten, you squeeze his thigh again.

"Good girl. Cum." 

On his command you cum around his cock. Moaning and undulating as you see stars.

He curses loudly, feeling the vibrations in your throat around his pulsing cock.

"Swallow." he groans out, falling back onto the bed as his thrusts become sloppy.

With a few more thrusts, streams of his cum meet the back of your throat.

You swallow diligently, adoring the taste of him with a whine.

He groans breathlessly, his eyes fluttering shut as he becomes boneless on the bed.

"What the fuck did you do that for?!" he asks, putting his hand over his heart. 

Swallowing all of him, you let your mouth hang open. He grips at your chin, pulling your face down to his eye level.

"Good," he replies in a whisper.

He sighs loudly, running his hands through his hair.

What just fucking happened? 

How did that just turn into some of the best foreplay he's ever had?!

"That was a one off?" you quip, sitting back against the headboard.

He rolls his eyes, sitting up at the end of the bed.

"That was a one off?" he retorts with a whiny voice, grabbing his briefs.

Your mouth falls open as he stands up off the bed.

"You're mocking me!?" you gasp loudly.

"Shut up." he mumbles with a chuckle, bending down to kiss you softly.

His eyes widen at how normal that is before he's pulling away quickly. 

"This was a bad idea!" he says quickly, grabbing his pants. 

You watch how nervous he is and it makes you sad. He doesn't even know what normal is.

"Was it a bad idea? Or are you just scared?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He picks up his shirt, looking at the broken buttons.

"This shirt was from Italy! I had it hand stitched by a ninety eight year old woman living in Florence!" he yells, shaking the shirt in the air.

"Well buy a new one, you love buying stuff." you suggest.

"She could be dead before I get my next order in!" he replies, shaking his fist quicker.

"Are you ignoring my question because you're embarrassed?" you ask, tilting your head.

He grunts angrily, busying himself with untying the knots.

"Miss Therapist, keep your questions to yourself!" he cries out, giving up on the knot untying.

He paces back and forth, his hands in his hair.

"You could kiss me again, that might be an idea." you suggest.

He grits his teeth, his mind running a mile a minute.

This was just a bad idea all together. He should have NEVER given in! He should have just ignored it like he always does. He's still falling, maybe even faster now.

Fuck!

You can see his eyes flickering back and forth nervously.

"Okay!" you cry out, clapping your hands.

Jumping off of the bed, you step into his path. He stares into your eyes as you look up at him.

Grabbing your wrist, he struggles against you slightly. You tuts your tongue, placing his hand on your stomach.

He looks up at the ceiling, pieces of black hair falling into his eyes. 

"It's not wrong that we did what we did. If anything it was nice. Don't let your guilt eat at you," you tell him.

He sighs loudly. 

"I just don't… know how to feel. You know how I get by now…" he replies softly.

"I do know. And, that's why I'm telling you it's okay," you promise.

He closes his eyes for a mere second. Looking back down at you, his eyes open.

His gaze fixes to his hand on your stomach. Then to your swollen breasts which are now covered in small marks made by him.

"We're being truthful with one another still?" he asks.

"Always," you reply earnestly.

He takes a moment, pulling you over to the bed.

"This just feels right, it feels too good… I've never felt this or had this before. And, when I thought I was getting it, well… look at that catastrophe." his voice falls flat, looking down at the marble floor.

"You still have to learn what happiness is, Yoongi. You don't have to be afraid to feel something new. And, if you do then you can tell me all about it. I'm just across the hall." you whisper, nudging your shoulder against his.

Warmth is the first thing he feels after he hears your words.

"This wasn't a one off, was it?" he mutters, earning a laugh from you.

"Doesn't have to be." you reply as he puts his shirt on.

"What if I get the urge to kiss you?" he sounds shy as he asks you.

"Then just do it. You have my permission," you say simply.

He smiles to himself gently, his eyes drifting over your naked body.

"Well, that sounds okay then." he says softly. 

With a hum, you kiss his cheek.

"What if I want to kiss all the time?" he asks, pulling your clothes away from your hands.

"Well, maybe not all the time," you jeer, laying back on the bed.

"But you said I have to learn happiness, and maybe kissing makes me happy." 

You giggle at his sweetness. "I think you're going crazy."

"Me too." he whispers, bowing his head down to kiss you.

As you continue to kiss slowly, your stomach rumbles hungrily.

"Someone's hungry." Yoongi mumbles against your lips.

Smirking against his lips, you feel your clothes return to your lap.

"Can I have my underwear?" you ask, putting your bra on.

"No. They're mine." he replies, helping you put on your pants.

"What, are you making a Y/N pantie collection?" you quip, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your shirt.

Yoongi takes in this moment, feeling how compassionate and fun you are. How absolutely radiating with beauty you are. 

"If you're a good girl, maybe." he jeers back, helping you stand up.

Snorting gently, you roll your eyes.

"Can't believed you ripped my fucking shirt, like a pregnant wild animal." he mumbles, motioning his arm for you to walk first. 

Laughing together, you open the room door.

Standing before you is Maya, a hand on her hip and an eyebrow quipped up to the sky.

"Jesus!" you both yell at the sight of her.

With a small smirk, she simply shrugs.

"Madam. Sir." she says, happiness enrapturing her voice as she takes off down the hall to his office with a feather duster in hand.

Yoongi snorts loudly, tugging his shirt closed. 

If this is what happiness is, he might just be okay with delving into it.

"Let's go get you some food, little dove."

Next Chapter ----->

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Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

[bakugohoex]

hi i love your works <3! i was wondering if you could write a little lighthearted scenario where reader makes an egg omelette for her crush jean (pref post timeskip? is okay if that can't work though), but somehow sasha and connie finds the omelette and eats it when reader steps outside the kitchen, leaving her confused on what to do? sorry, that's a big blog of a sentence! i hope it made sense

“you brats ate it didn’t you”

pairing: jean kirschtein x female reader

cw: aged up, fluff, language

word count: 1600+

a/n: hi thank you so much for the support, hope you liked it and it’s fine it all made sense to me i changed the ending a bit cause i think it fit better but i hope you still like it

summary: in which you make an omelette that jean’s mother had taught you how to make for the boy to confess your love for him, but sasha and connie had other ideas in mind

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

Four long years, four long, strenuous years of planning the next move, getting rid of all the titans and having seen the sea multiple times already. Being back in Trost, the sounds of the streets bustling with happiness was new and would never have been expected four years ago. The way people admired the survey corps now, admired the regain of Wall Maria and the faith they had of a better world outside the sea. 

“Y/n, dear, have you got everything you need?” Jean’s mother had been helping you find the ingredients you needed for the famous omelette she made for him when he was a kid. You had met his mother previously; she was a lovely woman and in a matter of minutes had known your crush for the boy. Having finally gotten the nerve to confess, his mother being the sweetest woman alive offered her helping hand. 

Having shown you how to make it and now you’d have to go back to the Survey Corps kitchens to make it yourself. It was a lot having not ever made anything in your life it was worrying to say the least. “Dear, stop looking so frightened my Jean boy will love it.” You smile at the woman taking a deep breath. 

“Thank you Mrs. Kirschtein.” You give the woman a gracious look, she really was the greatest mum, even after how Jean treated her after she visited in the training days. You knew he loved her, he loved lots of things, this omelette hopefully being one of them.

You walked through the gates, going towards the stone building that was housing you for a couple days. Seeing Sasha and Connie fight over some food, you didn't bother to question it, “Y/n, you’re back.” Jean smiled running up to you, his long hair curling at the bottom just reaching above his shoulders. 

“Yeah, I got everything I needed; your mother was a great help.” You didn't explain what you had gotten, wanting it to be a surprise for the boy. 

“You were with my mother.” Your eyes flashed red at how stupidly you had said it.

Trying to recover your words, “i met her on my way out, she offered the help.” He smiled before trying to peek inside the bag you were holding. 

“No peeking.” You slapped his hand away, chuckling at how he pretended to be hurt.

“Oww, what is it? A surprise?” He grinned out.

“Yes, it is.” You stood tall walking to the kitchens that were rarely used. You didn't really even know why they had one, but you didn't question it.

Jean followed trying to find out what it was, “what is it Y/n?” He pouted before trying to put his hand again in the bag.

“Jean.” You scowled grabbing the bag before he could grab it.

“Whoever it’s for must be a lucky man.” He scratched the back of his head before putting his arms on the table leaning against it. 

“Who says it’s for a man?” You knitted your eyebrows and crossed your arms, of course it was for a man, more specifically the man in front of you. 

He raises an eyebrow staring at you with his light brown eyes, you stared back not knowing what to say. “No woman decides to just spontaneously make a surprise meal for their friend, and you wouldn't make shit for Sasha.”

You had to agree with him there, “it’s a surprise Jean, I can't tell anybody.”

“It isn't for Captain Levi is it?” Your eyes widened at the thought of Levi even tasting your food, you could only imagine the grimace look that would plaster onto his face. 

“God no, please Jean I’ll tell you later who it's for?” You really just wanted to make it and get it over and done with, it was a confession, and you were scared you'd mess it up and having the 190cm tall boy hovering over you would most likely not help you in any way.

“Yeah, yeah.” He muttered leaving, he had only pestered you as a way to hide how jealous he felt. Was it to Eren, he had seen you talking to him a couple weeks ago, but it couldn't be. Unless it was someone you knew in Trost, worry filled his mind, the love of his life confessing to another guy. He looked down, hands in his pocket as he walked away, whoever the fuck it was, was a lucky man.

The piece of paper with the recipe fell onto the countertop, it was easy enough you didn't know why you had even felt worried when making it was easy, the two eggs going into the pan, the other pan with the filling and your ingredients for the sauce being chopped up, having put the filling into the omelette, the smell of it intoxicated the air. But worst of all it had gotten outside of the kitchens and directly to where Sasha and Connie both were.

“Do you smell that?” Having stopped fighting over the bread and potato, Sasha became rabid sniffing the air as she ran forward, like a woman on a mission. Connie followed, having nothing better to do, “it’s eggs and… potatoes.” She continued sniffing rambling on about the ingredients.

Just as you had finished every component and added them all together, the omelette looked like how Jean’s mothers was. It looked perfect and even smelt perfect as well, if being a part of the Survey corps didn't pan out you knew you’d have something to fall back on, or death. Death having a higher percentage of occurring, you played it up leaving it too cool on the side as you left the dishes on the side to do after you had brought Jean back with you.

Exiting the kitchen, you walked to the opposite direction of where both Sasha and Connie were, they both found the smell, the plate being left unattended. “Dinner is served.” Sasha gleamed, grabbing a fork that you had left on the side. 

“Sasha, it could be someone’s...” Connie warned.

Sasha hadn't heard and instead started digging into the food, Connie reluctantly trying some as well. If it smelt nice it had to taste nice, and God did it taste perfect, like heaven for their mouths.

Whilst this was all occurring, you saw Jean with Eren, an unusual sight but then again, they both were somewhat friends. Jean noticed you coming up to him, but a fear erupted, were you actually here for Eren instead? “Jean.” You smiled at the boy, you had put a little note underneath the plate so once he finished you could grab the plate and leave him to read it. It was trivial but you were too scared to say it out loud.

Jean was waiting for the can i speak to Eren alone, but it never came instead you put your hand out. “Come with me.” He complied, grabbing your hand, your soft warm fingers interlaced with his own, even though the confidence of holding his hand you were scared shitless at the thought of rejection.

“You're going to tell me who it’s for now.” He chuckled through having been dragged the whole way, just as you entered the kitchen, shock filled your eyes and Jean looked between you and the scene.

The empty plate with Sasha and Connie putting their forks down, “you brats ate it didn’t you?” You seethed out letting go of Jean’s hand, they had ruined the surprise and all you could do was stay in shock.

“I’m so sorry, I told Sasha not to…” Connie trailed off seeing anger come from you.

Jean saw the dishes and had an idea for them to make it up to you, “because you two ate it, you both can clean up.” Connie obliged not wanting to get hurt by you and Sasha was in a partial food coma at how much she’d eaten.

“Y/n, it was fucking amazing.” She chuckled following Connie to the dishes.

Jean went over to the plate, “don’t forget this.” Just as he lifted the plate up to pass it, you remembered the note hiding underneath, his name written right on top of it. Your eyes widened but it was too late to say anything, Jean had grabbed it and had flipped it over.

It was for you, I fell in love with you, I’m still falling in love with you

The three lines melted his heart, he watched how your eyes began to become saddened from his silent expression. He went to speak but you didn't dare look at him, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have.”

Jean went over stuffing the note in his pocket before taking you away from Sasha and Connie, “you love me?”

“Don’t mock me Jean, just reject me if you…” Before you could finish your sentence, his grip of his hands moved to your face, grabbing it and your hair, your lips collided together in an instant. You could feel his teeth against your own, his tongue moving along with your own. Your own hands had moved to his locks of hair, feeling it entangle through your fingers, you were actually doing it. You were kissing Jean Kirschtein, your love, your happiness, your home. He heard your soft moan through the kiss making his heart go wild, your confession had been a surprise, always believing his love for you to be unrequited but here you were in his arms.

Finally letting go to breathe, his hands still brushing your hair out and cheek away, he went down to your ear, soft kisses against your jaw before speaking the four words that melted you, “I love you, too.”

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage​ @jennammaee​ @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac

[peachycheol]

| reliable |

© banner credit: thank you to the love of my life @suhdreams​ for making this banner for me 🥺💘 ➸ summary: when people say ‘not all men’, they’re actually right. kim mingyu, your best friend, would never disappoint you. especially not in the bedroom.  ➸ genre: pwp 😌 ➸ pairing: best friend!mingyu x reader  ➸ warning: dirty talk, slight dumbification, heavy petting, unprotected sex (pls use protection irl), cream pie, oral (fem. receiving), cum eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, yn is really horny? ➸ w.c: 3.2k ➸ tags: you can all thank @risquewonu​ for this <333  

➸ author’s note: ahh, i’m sorry this took me so long! i didn’t mean to write this much, but what the smuth wants, the smuth gets. also, i want to thank you all for 100 followers! i’ll make a separate post to properly thank you all, but i am!!! baffled!!! i really appreciate the support ;u; love you guys! 

If there are two things in this world that you are absolutely certain of, they are: 1) Men ain’t shit, and 2) with the exception of Kim Mingyu. Knowing this information doesn’t really benefit you in any way. You still go out on Tinder dates that leave you high and dry 15 minutes after taking you home. And Kim Mingyu is still your very platonic best friend, who seems to be reliable in every single way except perhaps in the one way you need most desperately. 

But for all you know, he could be just like every other male in bed. He couldn’t be unbelievably handsome, the most thoughtful, caring person you know, and a sex god; it just wouldn’t be fair! No, it is much easier to convince yourself that Mingyu’s perfection only extended to being a best friend, if only for your peace of mind. Otherwise, you’d have to live with the possibility that the only person who can give you sweet release is the only one you’re technically not supposed to fuck. 

For reasons that seem to become annoyingly hazy every time you lie down next to him on his bed, just as you are at this moment. 

The two of you often end nights out like this, scrolling through one another’s TikTok’s until the wee hours of the morning, laughing loudly until his neighbors threaten to file a noise complaint. As someone who has claimed him as your best friend for three years, you know you’re supposed to be used to the smell of the musky cologne that clings onto his sheets and the feeling of his warm body as he leans closer to show you his For You Page. But lately, it seems harder and harder to fight off the warmth that pulses straight to your core whenever he does anything as simple as laugh, making you shiver when his breath tickles the side of your neck. 

God, you just really need to get laid properly. You lick your dry lips and try to remind yourself that you have no idea if Mingyu would even be able to satisfy you. Though you do have to admit you couldn’t imagine any situation where the boy isn’t overly generous and eager to please-- No! Just watch the damn TikToks! 

“Hey, you good?” Mingyu suddenly asks, nudging your side. “Why aren’t you laughing? ‘His package needs to come in the fe-mail’! That one’s gold!”

You let out a snort. Leave it to Mingyu to bring you back to reality with one line. Even when you don’t say a word, he knows exactly what you need in a moment, which in this case is a reminder that he’s your very dorky friend. “Shut up, that’s so stupid,” you say, but you can’t help but laugh along with him when it replays.

“Aha, you laughed though.” Satisfied with your response he scrolls down to a video of a girl smiling suggestively into the camera. She points to the caption that says ‘If all the boys that made me cum were in my room with me right now, I would…’ Suddenly, the camera pans and she looks at the screen tiredly. The caption now read as ‘Be alone. Men are trash’.

At this, you bust out with a howl of laughter, clutching at your stomach. It was kind of sad, but it was good to know you weren’t alone in this world. All the while, Mingyu stares at you with an eyebrow raised. Once you calm down, you meet his amused gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“You thought it was that funny, huh? It’s not even that accurate,” he says teasingly. 

You roll your eyes. “Um, yeah it is. I’ve never met a man who could make me cum, and clearly many other people can relate. This video has 1.4k likes!”

Mingyu quickly puts his phone down and pouts. “Nu uh! Not all guys are that incompetent!” 

“Men are such babies,” you sigh. “They are that incompetent! You know how many dates I went to last semester, right? Not one of them made me cum!”

“Okay, I told you before you even went on those dates that those guys weren’t worth your time.” Mingyu waves his hand dismissively. “For your information, I have made sure that all the ladies that I’ve taken to the bedroom had at least one orgasm. At least!”

“Mingyu, sweetie,” you coo, patting his cheek as if to comfort him. “They were all faking it, because they didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”  Right? They all had to have faked it. You try to tell yourself this, try to reign in the last bit of sanity you have before your mind wanders off to anywhere inappropriate.

Your best friend now props himself up so that you could properly see the smirk plastered across his annoyingly chiseled features. “You’re so sure, huh? I bet I could make you cum multiple times. Easily.” 

Your mouth falls open in shock. It isn’t uncommon for the two of you to taunt each other like this, but you have also never been in such a vulnerable mood. It’s the type of mood that has your heart racing impossibly fast, the type of mood that has your panties pathetically damp from just one sentence. You blink, trying to regain as much composure as you can. You know it’s too late, though; your imagination is already flashing through scenes of your deepest desires, all being fulfilled by the man in front of you. But Mingyu is only joking, so you do what you can to continue playing along and pretend like you don’t want him to just fuck you into the mattress until you were drooling into his sheets. 

“I-I seriously doubt that!” you say, but there is no conviction in your voice. Clearing your throat, you try adding, “Dude, I’ve literally seen you fall down a flight of stairs when you were sober. And we were going up. Kinda hard to imagine that you’ll know how to fuck me to an orgasm when you can’t even walk right.” 

Now you’re just lying through your teeth, but you want to hold off the inevitable moment that Mingyu discovers your apparent arousal for as long as possible. The last thing you need right now is for him to laugh in your face.

Mingyu chuckles, then suddenly shifts so that his arms are placed on either side of your head, trapping you underneath him. To his surprise, you do nothing to push him off like you usually do at this point. Still, he doesn’t plan on being the first to back off, so he continues his little game, intent on winning. “See, this is why you can’t find a guy who can satisfy you. You clearly don’t know what to look for.” He leans down until the tip of his nose grazes yours. For good measure, he drops his voice an octave and says, “You’ll be the one who can’t walk right when I’m done with you.” 

Perplexingly, his shameless flirting doesn’t make you move as he predicted. Nor does it make you look annoyed. Instead, you look up at him with eyes that are unmistakably glazed over with something he didn’t quite expect to see: pure lust. It immediately sends a rush of blood down to his cock. He blinks. Oh. So this is where the night is going. He only falters for a moment, but he soon flashes a breathtaking smile down at you, his eyes glinting mischievously. 

 It isn’t like he’s never thought about it before; he had just assumed that once you started calling him your best friend, you were also lowkey telling him that sex was off the table. And it wasn’t like he minded, because he definitely liked being by your side knowing it was fully okay to be himself since you were obligated to love him regardless. Plus there was just something about you that made him want to take care of you and if being your best friend was the only way he could do it, then that had been fine by him. But now that he knows that he can take care of you in another way, in the way that he sometimes found himself yearning for on lonely nights, he is all too eager to break free of the unspoken boundaries between the two of you. 

“And what am I looking for?” you whisper. 

“It seems like you’re looking for me, baby,” he responds softly, before pressing a kiss where your jaw meets your neck. He slowly drags his lips down the side of your neck, and revels in how it already has you pressing your legs together. “Damn, you weren’t kidding when you said those guys didn’t make you cum, huh? Is that why you’re already so fucking worked up? You want to cum that badly?”

You nod wordlessly, not quite ready for Mingyu to hear the desperate whine that would surely leave your lips as he continues pressing wet kisses along your skin. You opt to simply thread your fingers in his hair and tug hard enough to show your impatience. It seems to trigger something in him; all in an instant, your best friend’s soft lips clash against your own, his tongue easily sliding into your mouth, all the while while his hand reaches down to grab one of your thighs. He squeezes it teasingly before pushing it outwards, which causes the mini skirt you’re wearing to bunch up around your waist, revealing your panties and how they cling to your pussy like a second skin. 

“M-mingyu!” you squeak into his lips when you feel his fingers tentatively rub small circles into the wet spot. He nips at your lip harshly as he starts to rub more deliberately, the flimsy fabric of your underwear creating a delicious friction against your clit. “H-hah! Yes, o-oh my god!” 

“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me, baby girl,” he chuckles, but he knows he isn’t one to talk while his cock is half hard just from hearing the way you moan his name. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you. You’re not leaving this room until your little pussy cums nice and hard on my cock.” 

“Ngh!-- yes p-please! Please, Mingyu,” you beg mindlessly. Your eyebrows are scrunched together in concentration. Despite your best friend’s promises, you are still hesitant to hold out any hope for anything more than what you’re accustomed to, so you try to take as much as you can while it lasts. However, in your lustful daze, you had forgotten that if Kim Mingyu is anything, he is a man of his word. 

 You let out a high-pitched moan when his fingers suddenly grind harsh circles into your clit, more surprised than anything else that he even knew where to find it. “But first,” he says, licking his lips, “you’re going to be a good girl and cum just like this. Right into your filthy little panties. Can you do that for me, baby?” 

He takes your drawn out whine as a response, and continues to rub relentlessly over your hardened clit until your legs begin to shake. That’s when he shoves the soaked material of your underwear to the side and pinches the bud. Hard. 

He rolls your clit between the pads of his fingertips over and over, sending jolts of electric pleasure all the way to your toes. It causes them to curl, all the while you feel the heat simmering in your lower abdomen finally coil tighter and tighter. “Fuckfuckfuck,” you chant, the words coming out slurred like you’re a teenager who’s gotten drunk from one sip of champagne. “M-mingyu-- mmh! I t-think I’m going to--!” 

A loud cry leaves your lips the moment the coil snaps, and you nearly tear up from how much better it feels to finally cum on someone else’s fingers, especially Mingyu’s long, thick digits.  He soothingly slides them through your drenched folds, mesmerized by how much wetness now covered his hand. “That’s it, baby,” he encourages. Once your body slumps back into the mattress, he brings his fingers up to see how they glisten in the light. “We’ve barely even started and look at what the mess you’ve already made. You must have been waiting so long for me to fuck you, huh?” 

Not even your post-orgasm buzz can keep you from getting irked by Mingyu’s cockiness, which is why you reach your own hand down to squeeze his cock through his jeans. “Seems like I’m not the only one who’s been waiting for this,” you say with a sly grin of your own. He watches you, jaw clenched, as you swiftly pop the button of his pants open and slip your fingers past the waistband of his underwear to take hold of his fully hardened member. 

It feels warm and heavy in your palm, which can barely wrap around the girth. You bite your lip, your pussy greedily clenching around nothing at the thought of how good it would stretch you out.

“I should have known you’d be a fucking tease,” Mingyu rasps. His hips buck into your hand involuntarily, and his smile returns when he notices how the movement makes you whimper in anticipation. 

There is a beat of silence when you and Mingyu meet eyes before the both of you begin undressing each other as fast as you can, haphazardly tugging off both your shirts, his pants, and your pesky undergarments. Once he’s tossed aside your soiled panties, he immediately presses your thighs apart to get a full view of your sopping cunt. “So pretty,” he mumbles to himself, spreading the lips apart with his fingers. His member throbs at the sight, the tip leaking precum when he sees how your pussy clenches in anticipation. “I bet it’s going to look even prettier when it’s taking my fat cock, don’t you think?”

The two of you watch in awe as Mingyu starts to sink into your entrance, a garbled moan leaving your lips when the tip alone already has you feeling so full. “Mingyu, h-how is-- ooh!-- your d-dick soo-- f-fucking big? A-Ah!” It takes a good while for you to finish your sentence as each of Mingyu’s shallow thrusts leave you gasping for air. By the time he bottoms out, the both of you are panting hard, both engrossed by how snugly his cock fits in your walls. 

“Shit, if I had known you’d be this tight, I would have fucked you sooner,” Mingyu groans. He slowly drags his member out of you, letting you feel every inch of him before he surges forward into a feverish pace that already has his bed frame creaking loudly. He is definitely getting a noise complaint from his grumpy neighbors tonight. But seeing you underneath him like this, lips parted and legs spread, definitely makes it difficult to care about anything other than the desire to hear more of your needy cries. “Does it feel good, baby girl? Do you like how my cock fills your little pussy?”

“It fuh--!--ngh, feels s-soo good,” Having already came once, your sensitivity is on overload, and each rough thrust of Mingyu’s hips, each crude slap of his skin against yours, is enough to drive you closer and closer to delirium. “Mmh-- please, Mingyu! F-fuck me so deep!”

“Anything for my little cockslut.” He moves quickly to kneel between your legs, hooking his arms underneath your knees to keep them open as he continues to pound into you. The new position instantly makes you keen loudly, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel his member brush against your cervix. 

“Fuuuuck,” you sob and clutch at the sheets. His grip on your legs tightens and he angles his hips so that he hits that spot every time, rendering you completely incoherent. You want to beg him to fuck you like this forever, to tell him you’d do anything to feel his cock fuck you open every night, but you can only babble, unable to comprehend anything that isn’t the insatiable thirst burning within you.

“Damn baby, did I fuck you stupid?” Seeing you so drunk on his cock, he wonders how anyone could ever fuck you without wanting to see you cum over and over again. His hair falls over his eyes as he fucks up into you with renewed vigor, his hot skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. He grits his teeth when he feels how tightly your walls grip onto him.“Shit-- you must want me to make you cum again, baby girl. Your little pussy just keeps sucking me in.”

“H-hah, y-yes! Yes, please god, Mingyu, I want to c-cum again. P-please let me cum,” you beg, practically writhing as you pathetically attempt to meet his thrusts. Without any hesitation, Mingyu brings down his thumb and presses it into your swollen clit, causing your body to seize up suddenly. “A-Aah Mingyu! I’m--!” The intensity of your orgasm has your back arching off the mattress, head thrown back in a silent scream. Wave after wave of pleasure continuously washes over you, seemingly unending, unlike any orgasm you ever thought possible. 

“That’s right baby girl, get my cock nice and wet,” Mingyu growls. He fucks you through your release as he sloppily chases his own, not too far behind with how your walls are pulsing around him. He makes sure his cock is deep inside you and stills his hips when fills you with his hot cum. “Fuck, this pussy was fucking made for me.”

Just as you think you’ve finally come down from your high, he pulls out of you and he shifts to lower himself to place his mouth on your spent pussy. “M-mingyu!” 

You squirm and half-heartedly try to shove his head away, far too sensitive to have his tongue licking into your leaking entrance, but Mingyu is persistent. He pushes your legs to your chest to keep you from squeezing them close, and hums when he tastes the hot mixture of your and his own cum on his lips. The way he slurps and sucks at your folds is absolutely sinful as he eats you out like you’re the most delectable treat. It almost hurts to feel so much ecstasy at once, but it still leaves you mewling for more, unable to get enough of the boy.

Your third orgasm ripples over you when he suddenly scrapes his teeth over your abused clit, and you feel a tear slide down your cheek as you weakly shake against his mouth. 

Mingyu is smiling when he pulls away, looking slightly ridiculous with how his lips still glisten with cum. You tiredly slump back into his pillows, eyes already drooping close. “What is it?”

“I told you I could do it~” he says proudly. He goes to grab some tissues from the bedside table so that he could start cleaning you up, giggling all the while. It really is unfair how he could look so cute moments after railing you into another dimension. 

You groan. You’re never going to hear the end of this.

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

-------------------------------------

A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 4

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats, coercion, manipulation, hand job, loss of virginity

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Sorry it took so long to get this out. Hopefully I can work on part 5 now that I have this posted.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 4:  With its gallery gods and its garbage-bag trees

💀💀💀

Sam left you in the same daze that fogged the entire day. The night was restless as you tossed and turned, replaying the scene over and over. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the lens staring back at you, imagined yourself on a screen, your hand moving between your legs, your pathetic mewls as you came for this man and who knew how many others. 

Well, he did say it was up to you how big the audience was.

You woke early and only checked in with your nan to fill a mug with coffee and start your day ahead of time. You needed to keep yourself busy after a night bombarded by your own thoughts and yet, you couldn’t focus enough to do more than stare at the blinking cursor.

You put on a Twitch stream to keep your mind from wandering too far but it did little to help your focus. You fidgeted, still without your phone, and again thought of the previous day and what you’d done. You’d never done that in front of anyone. You only ever joked about it online, that persona was everything you weren’t irl.

All your stupid online jokes and exaggerations got you into this. You fucked up because the line between virtual and reality was too blurred in your head. You got carried away and now you just had to deal. Well, you guessed it was a lesson no one learned the easy way.

You didn’t realise how much time passed until your stomach growled loudly and squeezed. You felt like throwing up but only had the slice of toast you scarfed down that morning to coat your stomach. You rubbed your eyes and headed downstairs to sneak some of your nan’s sugarless jelly cookies. She hated your snacking but she rarely finished a box on her own.

As you entered through the kitchen, you came to a sudden halt. You tilted your head and frowned as you heard your nan’s voice and the one that answered had you knocking your hip against a chair as you rushed into the living room.

“Just over there,” she directed as the leg of the couch scraped on the floor, “slide it against the wall.”

Sam stood straight dusted off his hands on his jeans. He stepped back and looked over the old floral sofa. 

“Definitely looks better over here,” he remarked.

“What the hell?” you blurted out.

“There you are!” your grandmother tutted, “I called up to you but you do what you always do and tune me out.”

“I didn’t-- I was working, I--” you cleared your throat and looked at Sam, “what are you doing here?”

“He’s being very helpful,” your nan praised, “how many times did I ask you to help me with this thing?”

“Sorry, I…” you swallowed and glanced between them.

“And smell that,” your nan inhaled deeply, “he’s making us dinner.”

“And I brought sugar-free dessert,” he added, “anything else I can do?”

“You’re so sweet,” she squeezed his thick arm.

“So are you… once you get past the frying pan,” he chuckled.

“I see a man in leather, I’m swinging,” she scowled, “you’re lucky you came bearing gifts.”

“Hey, look, we’re not all bad,” he smiled as she sat and he handed her the book from the small table that held the lamp and her ashtray, “I’m not like those guys who threatened your granddaughter.”

“And more honest than her,” she shook her head, “you didn’t tell me you were down at that bar. I warned you-- you really are lucky he was there.”

“Uh, sure, yeah,” you squinted at them, “didn’t you just tell me the other day I should grab any biker by--”

“I’m old, I say things,” she laughed but her eyes had a glimmer of ‘be quiet’.

“Would you like some more tea, Millie?” he asked as he took her empty mug and neared you, stopping in the broad archway that opened up into the living room.

“One more, if you don’t mind,” she smiled sweetly. She never smiled.

You hid a scowl and turned to follow Sam into the kitchen. He moved the kettle onto a burner and turned the knob. He stopped and opened the door of the stove and peeked inside as a blaze of savoury hot air blasted out at him. You felt it just before he let it snap shut and turned to lean on the counter, crossing one foot over the other.

“What are you doing?” you uttered.

“I told you I’d be back,” he shrugged.

“I didn’t think you’d--” you lowered your voice and glanced at the doorway, “what have you been telling her?”

“Everything she wants to hear,” he ran his fingertips along the precise line of hair of his goatee, “and nothing she shouldn’t… but that can change.”

“I did what you wanted. End of punishment,” you put your hands on your hips.

“End? Hmmm, I don’t think I said that,” his forehead wrinkled, “we’re far from finished… and come on, we both know you had as much fun as me.”

Your nostrils flared and you sucked in your cheeks. He was entirely too hard to figure out. He was that sort of man you hated and feared all at once. You just couldn’t predict him.

“I don’t… I don’t care what happens to me, just don’t hurt her,” you said quietly.

“Hurt her? Now why would I do that?” he taunted, “I mean, right now I have no reason to do anything like that.”

You squirmed and let out a breath, “please, alright?”

“Settle down, honey, you’ve been good… so far,” he said, “you just gotta keep it up.”

“Yeah,” you grumbled as the kettle began to shake and he turned his back to you, “any chance I can have my phone back?”

He chuckled as he searched the cupboard for the tea and plucked out a bag, “you’re funny… I like that but you gotta stop acting like everything’s a joke. It doesn’t hold up.”

💀

You found it hard not to wear a look of unamused confusion as Sam served dinner at the table and your grandmother sang his praises as he poured her wine she could actually drink. Just one glass but it was enough to loosen her up. You hadn’t eaten in the dining room since you were a kid, more used to eating at the counter, sitting on the wobbly stools or in front of the television.

Sam offered for you to clean up and do the dishes. Your nan was overjoyed at that, almost mocking. When you finished, you found them in the living room, some old Robert DeNiro movie on the television. You sat on the couch, as far from Sam as you as your grandmother yawned into her hand.

“Well,” she stubbed out her cigarette, “I should really be getting to bed. That wine is kicking in.”

“It’s early…” you argued weakly.

“You kids don’t get into too much trouble,” she warned as she stood with a groan and gripped her hip, “these ears still work.”

“Trouble? Me?” Sam kidded, “you don’t have to worry about me. I haven’t been a kid in a very long time.”

She smiled and nodded but for a moment she hesitated. She looked at you and pushed her tongue to her denture.

“Good night, girlie,” she said.

“Night, nan,” you forced out as normally as you could. 

You knew if she sensed your fear, she’d act out. She was always too brave for her own good and while you admired that, you didn’t need to get hurt because you were dumb as a brick.

She left slowly and you heard her television begin to crackle and the voices of the Law and Order actors were muffled behind her door. You hunched your shoulders and rubbed your hands together as you stared at Deniro’s wrinkled forehead and that characteristic squint. 

The lamp went out as Sam pulled the cord and the screen glowed in the dark. You felt the cushion dip as he shifted closer without subtlety. He slung his arm over your shoulder and you smelled his earthy cologne as he turned the TV up a few ticks. He pulled you to him as his hand came up to cradle your cheek.

“Shouldn’t we go… somewhere else?”

“She won’t hear us honey,” he cooed, “you just gotta be good. Be quiet.”

“Let’s go upstairs. Please,” you grabbed his hand as you pleaded.

“You keep arguing and I’ll make sure to wake her up,” he warned, “now,” he twisted so that he had your wrist in his grasp and forced it down to his lap, “put your hand down my pants.”

You gulped loudly and your hand trembled. You read enough fanfic to know what to do but your lack of actual experience had you nervous. Much like many things in your life. All talk, no skill.

You turned awkwardly on the cushion, your body uncomfortably contorted as his legs stayed pressed to yours. You struggled to unhook the button of his fly and the zipper was slow to descend. You felt the bulge as your hands moved against the denim and you hesitated as your fingers pressed to the elastic of his briefs.

“Mmm,” he purred as he hugged you closer, “that’s it, honey.”

Your eyes widened and you were happy the room was dark enough to hide your face. You pulled the elastic back with two fingers and shoved your other hand blindly beneath the fabric. You brushed against his hard dick and angled your hand so that you could grip him, his smooth length felt peculiar against your palm. Was he big? He felt big but didn’t have anyone to compare him to.

“Tighter,” he groaned at the friction as you moved your hand.

You squeezed and his hot breath grazed over your hair and he pushed his head back over the couch. He twitched as you kept a steady motion, trapped in the limbo of mortification and cluelessness. Were you doing it right? What were you even doing?

“Ah, honey, you’re so good,” he said as he rubbed the back of your neck, “goddamn.”

You said nothing as you focused on your hand. He snaked his arm under yours suddenly and pulled you over as he lifted his ass. Your hand was caught in his under as he laid you down beneath him. He reached down and fixed your grip on him as he held hovered atop you, his knees pressed into the cushion between your legs.

His arm crossed under yours as he poked along your jeans and shoved his hand beneath the denim and cotton. His palm was flush to your pelvis as he slid two fingers along your folds, held snug to you by the fabric. He swirled his fingertips over your bud and you gasped as your other hand gripped his arm in surprise.

“Honey, you’re wet already,” he whispered, “you sure you haven’t been waiting for this?”

You moaned as he pushed back along your entrance and dragged his fingers back, spreading your wetness over your clit. You quivered as you struggled to keep your own hand moving. He inhaled and groaned as played with you and pressed his lips to your cheek. He trailed up to your lips and kissed you, forcing his tongue inside as he shuddered.

He drew away with a sloppy noise and withdrew his hand from your pants. He sat up on his knees and pulled your legs to rest against his torso. He gripped the back of your jeans and yanked them down along with your panties. You smothered your cry as you were shocked by the force of it and the air of the room on your bare ass and legs.

He let your jeans dangle from one ankle as he bent over you again. Your leg fell over the edge of the couch as he held himself over you with a hand just above your head, fingers tight on the cushioned arm. He wiggled as he shimmied his jeans and briefs down with his other hand and you pressed on his chest.

“Wait, wait,” you hissed, “you… please, just… slow down… I never--”

“Shh, honey, you’re making too much noise,” he muttered, “it’s okay.”

“No, no, please, can’t we--” your voice caught as he lined his tips up along your cunt and rubbed it along your clit, “I’ll… I’ll use my mouth.”

“Later,” he whispered as his tip slipped down along your entrance, “honey, I need to feel you.”

“Pl--” your voice evaporated as the head of his dick stretched you.

You whimpered as he brought his arm down and nestled it under your head. He pushed further in and you gritted your teeth as you whined at the pressure of his intrusion. With each inch, the strain grew worse as a deep pain flooded your body. He shushed you as he forced past your resistance.

He covered your mouth as you cried out and barely kept your voice under control. He kept your head on his arm as his other hand cupped your lips and smothered out your agony. He forced himself in as deep as he could and your body tensed as your walls squeezed him. Your eyes rolled back as tears welled and spilled over the corners.

“Honey, it’s okay, we’ll go slow,” he coaxed, “just like that.”

He rocked his hips carefully but it still felt terrible. He pulled back and slid back in, each time it felt like he got even deeper than the last. His breath hitched and your own grew laboured as you huffed through your nostrils. 

He growled and sped up, just a little at a time, your cunt slickening his intrusion as his pelvis brushed against your clit and sent tendrils down your thighs. Even so, the pleasure was not enough to mute the pain.

“That’s it,” he uttered, “that’s it.”

He fucked you faster and the couch shook beneath you. His flesh slapped and the noise seemed to be monstrous, so much sure that you were sure your grandmother would come out and catch you. 

You grasped his wrist as you felt your climax rising. You squeezed and arched your foot as you were overcome and crashed down harshly as the pain tore through the ecstasy once more. He turned his hand and framed your chin as he kissed you again, swallowing your murmurs as he thrust into you over and over.

He lifted his head and dipped his thumb into your mouth as he held in his voice. He quaked and his motion stuttered but kept on. You felt his release, hot and wet, inside of you, a strange sensation that made you both sickened and aroused you.

He eased up and stilled at last. He brushed his nose against yours and chuckled under his breath as he wiggled his hips and you swore at the way it made your walls squeeze him. You blinked as your vision cleared of tears and the darkness. His features were blue with the light of the television, sinister and shadowy.

You went limp under him and breathed out slowly. You shook as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip and left a line of spit down your jaw.

“We’ll have to get that on tape next time,” he said, “but I doubt you’ll forget that, honey.”

[ninyard]

more stefan/andrew au? the last one was fucking amazing

(following on from pt 2 kinda following canon a lil bit but imagining their relationship panning out earlier than it did in the series? Fab)

Part 1 / part 2

-

“Andrew?” Neil was woken up by Seth’s pissed-off, tired moan. “Get the fuck out of here, you fuckin’ freak.” Neil heard the rustling of covers and Andrew’s footsteps coming into the room. “Yo, hey, are you deaf?!” It’d been a couple days since the incident in Columbia, and Andrew and Neil hadn’t really spoken since then. Coach had tried to get them to make up when Neil came back to his apartment, but his attempts futile. They’d only had a short conversation before Andrew got bored and left. All Neil got from Andrew’s lot since then was hostility and cold shoulders. Now, in the middle of the night, Andrew was breaking into the room of the three people he actively seemed to hate the most. Neil pretended to sleep, until he felt weight on the rungs of the ladder on his bed, and hands on the back of his T-shirt. Andrew practically pulled him off the bed, immediately waking him up from any bit of sleep he had left in him.

“Car. Ten minutes.” Andrew didn’t lower his voice for Neil’s half-asleep roommates. “I don’t like waiting.”

“I don’t care.” Neil retorted back in a hushed voice. “Leave me alone and let me sleep.” Andrew got real close to Neil’s face. The dim light of the moon outside the window showed Andrew unsmiling face. He was presumably sober, and Andrew sober was a much scarier sight than him being medicated and violent.

“Ten minutes.” He repeated again, matching Neil’s volume, hazel eyes burning a hole through Neil’s natural blue. Andrew put a finger to his lips and switched to German. “This is the only chance you’ll get.”

Neil had almost forgotten he’d spoken to Andrew in German in Coach’s apartment. He was startled at the sudden language change, and obliged when Andrew finally left the room. He got dressed underneath his covers as best he could, and decided against putting in his contacts, before jumping down off the top bunk.

“Bring that monster around here one more time and you’re moving out.” Seth groaned, but fully meant what he said. He turned around to face the wall and through the muffle of a pillow, Neil heard him say, “Now fuck off.” Matt, sleeping like a rock, was snoring on the other side of the room, totally unphased and undisturbed by Andrew’s swift entrance and exit.

Andrew was alone at his car when Neil pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands in a desperate attempt to stay warm, the door of the dorm building shutting behind him. It was freezing outside, and Neil hadn’t realised it was literally the middle of the night until he saw a clock in the hallway reading an early 3:54am. The wind blew leaves across the parking lot with a whistle and a rustle, the dry fall leaves swirling around like tiny twisters on the tarmac. The campus was silent, on the night of a weekday, so Neil didn’t expect anyone to be out. Yet here Andrew was, leaning on the bonnet of his car with a cigarette between his lips, smoke quickly disappearing in the biting wind.

“You never answered my question on our little night out.” He spoke through the smoke, as Neil approached closer. “We’re going for a drive.”

“Do you ever sleep?” Neil’s voice was groggy from his own interrupted sleep. Andrew didn’t answer, instead flicking away his cigarette and sitting into the drivers seat. Neil walked around to the passenger side and sat in. When he tried to warm his hands on the hot air Andrew had blowing through the air-con, Andrew turned the heat off. Neil was sure if Andrew was medicated he would’ve laughed, but he instead opted for watching the road as they drove in silence. Neil sat back and tried his best not to fall asleep. His head bumped about on the headrest as they drove, and every time his eyes started to close, his sleep cycle begging him to come back to rest, Andrew would snap his fingers in his face or lay a punch down on his thigh. After a short drive, they pulled up into the empty lot of some National Park Neil didn’t know the name of. He was too tired to pay attention to the signs, but figured Andrew wouldn’t bring him to a park to kill him or let him go. Andrew was a man of truth when he wanted to be; He wanted to know why he was on the run and Neil didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Why are we here?” Neil asked at the same time Andrew said “What brought a runaway to Oakland?”They both paused for a moment, but Neil knew Andrew wasn’t going to answer his question until Neil answered his.

“It was the first place she wanted to stop.” Neil spoke through a yawn. “The others before there made her too paranoid. It was the first time she felt like she could close her eyes and actually sleep without feeling like she was…” He thought about his words for a moment. The last conversation they’d had, he told him he was on the run, but Andrew already knew that. Neil thought he’d got through to him by giving him half-honesty, telling him his parents were dead. He never brought up Riko, or his family, instead choosing the option of trying to appeal to Andrew’s inner child, who remembered Stefan. It was a stupid choice, and Neil knew that the second he chose it. “She could sleep without feeling like she had a target on her back.”

“Did you kill her?” Andrew said it so casually it felt like murder was something so normal, like eating lunch or going for a walk. Like asking if he killed his mother was just like asking if he liked the taste of garlic, or if he was having a good day.

“No,” Neil answered. He’d been thinking about what he would tell Andrew about his life since he seen him in Arizona. Who was he before Oakland? Where did they go? Who was he running from? “Riko’s family did.”

And suddenly Andrew was interested. His face was a mixture of disbelief and boredom. Neil told him his manufactured version of the story; that his parents were killed by the Moriyama family, and that they’d been on the run since the execution of his Father. He kept out the part about the Butcher of Baltimore, or the fact that he was actually still alive, but Andrew’s mind was at work as Neil told the story. If he didn’t look awake before, he did now. Neil spoke for an hour, maybe less, maybe more, flowing from story to anecdote to answering questions that Andrew slipped in whenever he wanted. Neil answered it all with mostly-truths, redacting the stuff Andrew simply didn’t need to know. Neil was a runaway, his family were in some bad business, but Neil was the only one left.

“I really didn’t think you could get any more stupid, yet I am constantly surprised.” Andrew tutted as he shook a cigarette out of the packet, into his hand. He rolled down the window on his side and smoked out of it, seemingly unbothered by the wind that just blew the smoke back into his face. “You knew who I was, but you knew Kevin too? How forgetful do you think people are?”

“I don’t know,” Neil told him honestly. “I just- We were so young. I met Kevin years before I met you. I just didn’t think I was important to anyone.” Andrew laughed a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all. It was the sound of dismissal, as though he didn’t believe a word that spilled from Neil’s tired lips. “I didn’t think I’d ever be particularly memorable or mean anything to anyone. That was the most important thing to my mom.”

“What, being unimportant?” Andrew didn’t look at Neil as he spoke.

“Being forgettable.” Neil sighed, thinking about his mother’s words that had been drilled into his head. If you’re too interesting, you’re asking to be killed. Be boring. Be normal. Be forgettable. “You fucked that up for me.”

“See, you keep blaming me,” Andrew shook his head as he took a drag from the cigarette that had been half-smoked by the wind. “I didn’t fuck up your life, Abagnale, you did.” Neil didn’t get the reference, but he didn’t ask either.

“I don’t mean it’s your fault. You didn’t do anything,” Neil tried correcting himself. “I couldn’t help it when I was around you. And all I could do every second of my days after Oakland was blame you because I couldn’t deal with the fact that I let you in. Everything I learned, everything I’d done, you came along and turned the place upside down because I just had to know you. I had to.”

“Why?” Andrew looked at him with that same uninterested look he usually had, when a medically-induced smile wasn’t spread across his cheeks. “What made me any different to the hundreds of other kids I’m sure you met on your travels, hmm?”

“You were real.” Andrew scoffed. Neil frowned at that and shrugged his shoulders. “We’ve been through this. Don’t waste my time getting to know me if you just want me to run. You want me to get lost in the park, is it? Is that why you brought me here?”

“Nothing better than some honesty with a view.” Andrew tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “How do you expect me to trust you when you’ve spent your whole life a liar? Be mad if you want, but I’m much less gullible now, you see. Once a liar, always a liar.” Neil sent Andrew a look as he hovered his hand over Andrew’s. When he just stared at it, Neil brought Andrew’s hand up to his collarbone where was a small, raised, pink scar sitting just above it.

“The motels phone.” Neil spoke quietly, as if Mary would hear, as if she was waiting to jump out from behind the car to take him and beat him again for letting his guard down, for being unforgettable. “It was the first thing she could grab when we got into our room. I never told her your name, and she beat me harder for it. I never wanted to let her anger ruin your name.” Andrew dropped his hand from Neil’s grip.

“Pretty unintelligent to take hits for someone you thought you’d never see again.”

Then Neil said, “I knew I’d never forget you.” Andrew tensed up at the almost-promise, and the memories came flooding back for Neil like a tsunami sweeping over every other thought he had. “I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.” Neil almost reached out to touch Andrew before he remembered the boundary Andrew had set that night in Columbia. Neil didn’t have a right to touch him anymore, and he knew Andrew noticed as Neil’s hand lifted and then hesitantly fell. “Tell me something I don’t know about this Andrew. I’ve told you my life, tell me yours.” He gestured to Andrew, sat across from him with an almost-frown on his face and a thinking mind hard at work.

“This Andrew doesn’t give a shit about what answers you think you deserve.” He looked Neil up and down. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“Why doesn’t Nicky know you’re gay?” Neil asked, instead of waiting for him to come up with something himself, it was much easier to get honesty from Andrew by prompting him. Neil watched as his jaw tensed for a second, thinking about the answer.

“Nicky is too involved in being the gay cousin to un-assume.” Andrew barely lifted his shoulders in the form of a shrug. “He hasn’t asked.”

“Why don’t you tell him?”

“I don’t ‘come out’,” He brushed off the thought with the flick of his wrist and a roll of his eyes. “I don’t fuck women in my spare time. Who cares?”

“Yeah, sure, but-” Neil had started to speak when Andrew cut across.

“At least I’m out to myself,” He nodded towards him. “You, on the other hand? Was it just Stefan who was into it or is the unnamed you just in denial?”

“I’m not, like…” Neil hated the sexuality question. It was confusing and messy and Andrew and Andrew and Andrew. “There was no one after you. It’s only been you.”

“By choice or by mothers hands?”

“Neither. Both?” He wasn’t sure how to answer. “The foxes are the first people I’ve let get somewhat close since then. That’s the truth. I haven’t wanted to. I’m just not interested in anyone.” The except for you part was silent, but he knew Andrew had somewhat heard it when he sat back, one hand on the steering wheel, the other arm resting on the door, as he took a deep breath that he tried to hide. Neil wasn’t even sure he was still into Andrew like that, because they were so young, after all. Andrew was still experimenting, and they never spoke about those kinds of feelings. They were friends who kissed each other because they wanted to know what it felt like. They kissed each other because maybe they thought they liked it. Maybe they’d have to do it again just to be sure. But that was so long ago, and so much had changed. Neil had had a crush on that Andrew, but this one? He wasn’t so sure. This one was harsh and mean, angry and unmoving. This one had been hard-boiled by life and wasn’t going to crack any time soon. He didn’t know if he felt things anymore. He didn’t know if Andrew was capable of a crush, or a kiss, or a simple, electric touch of fingers to skin.

Without a word, Andrew had switched on the ignition and idled the engine for a moment before pulling out and starting on the drive back to campus. Neil didn’t say anything else, he only rested his head on the window and watched as the morning sun slowly lit up the night sky, the dark navy blue taking over the black sky so slowly it was hardly noticeable.

He had pulled into his usual parking spot not long later, still not looking at Neil or speaking at all. He stayed still in the drivers seat after switching the engine off. Neil took that as his cue to leave. Matching Andrew’s silent treatment, he got up and shut the door without a word. Andrew had rolled down his window again, another cigarette already stuck between his lips. He watched as Neil walked around the car before he tapped the outside of his door twice to catch his attention. Neil spoke before he could.

“Give me a chance.” The wind blew his hair off his face, reminding him how cold it was, and why he should’ve worn a jacket. “Let me stay. I don’t have anything else.”

“Don’t be fooled into thinking I trust you.” He hung his hand out the window finally looking Neil in the eyes again. “It’s a matter of time before your egg timer runs out. Make use of it while you can.”

“I’ll bury Stefan forever, if you ask.” Neil offered in payment for the sudden change of heart in letting him stay, in cleaning his hands of the idea that Neil was after Kevin, or that he was a threat. “Say the word and we start fresh from today.”

“I don’t care,” Andrew took a long drag, one that felt like it was centuries long, like the sun would be up by the time he finished. He blew it out and raised his hands. “Kill what wasn’t real. Prove to me what was.”

Neil wasn’t sure what that invitation meant, but he didn’t ask Andrew to keep speaking. When they broke eye contact, he knew then Andrew wanted him to leave. Neil didn’t look back, heart racing, practically ready to burst out of his chest by the time he reached his dorm room. He opened the door as quietly as he could, careful not to disturb his peacefully sleeping roommates, and he crawled back into bed to try get some sleep before the practice scheduled for the morning. Instead of counting sheep, battling restlessness like a fight for his life, he thought of Stefan. He thought of the heart of Nathaniel that had gotten wrapped up in his blond hair and tiny frame. Neil fell asleep thinking about who he used to be, and what parts of that were real. What parts could he keep? His mind spent its last morsels of energy on dissecting Neil Josten, to make him feel a little more real.

The next time they saw each other outside of practice was when Kevin started coming to find him late at night to go to the court and practice together. Neil realised quickly he was going to become a night owl as a Fox, but it still took him a while to adjust to the late nights and early starts. But him and Andrew kept their distance; they didn’t speak if they didn’t have to, and their conversations were kept to a line or two each. They played their first match of the season, and Andrew had sent out shots for Neil like they were capable of working together. Then there was Kathy Ferdinand’s show, at which Andrew had hands all over him, holding him back from killing Riko on live TV. He had made a deal to protect Kevin, and then he was being psychically held back from doing so. Neil did what he couldn’t, and stood up to Riko, a conscious effort to gain his trust, to prove he was on the side of the foxes. Then there was that touch, that simple, light, barely-there touch, and Neil knew he’d won. He’d earned Andrew’s trust, at least for a moment, but that was all that mattered.

When Andrew ever-so-kindly reminded Neil later that Riko would find out about him, the original “Neil”, as easily as he’d strolled onto that stage to sit across from Kevin, there was no choice but to run. He couldn’t imagine any other option. His entire body went into fight or flight, and he struggled to sit still as Andrew held his collar and told him to stay.

“Why?” Neil asked, throat dry, hands shaking, after Andrew offered him protection for the year if he promised to stay. It was funny to imagine, as if there was anything he could do against the actual, guns-blazing, internationally dominating mafia. “Why would you help me?” Andrew laughed, and just about caressed Neil’s jaw in the most non-affectionate way possible. Neil felt his touch leave blood on his skin, but he didn’t flinch. Andrew was manic, and didn’t care. He looked as if he didn’t even feel the pain of a glass-shattering punch, and was actively enjoying the chaos that the morning had brought with it.

Andrew didn’t give him any sort of an answer until later that night, when he stepped into Neil’s space and told him to remember the feeling; Neil couldn’t run anymore. He had given his word to Andrew that he would stay, and as much as he had started to hate the Present-Day-Andrew-Minyard, he trusted him as a man of his word. Neil had killed the parts of Stefan that were untrue; all that was left was the real emotion he felt when he looked at Andrew. He was an asshole, but he was Andrew, and Neil trusted this five foot blond boy with his life. Perhaps it was crazy, perhaps he was officially, undeniable, finally signing his name on his death wish, ticking down the hours until his past caught up. Whereas running was his old line of defence, his current one was Andrew. Andrew was an unlit fire suddenly gaining embers, and Neil knew it was dangerous to let that fire grow. Especially when Andrew leaned over in Eden’s, crackers on his tongue, a drink in his hands, and whispered in German;

“Mommy’s not here to hurt you anymore.” Neil snapped his gaze towards Andrew, who was coming up on his high, speaking to Neil but watching the crowd on the dancefloor. His breath at Neil’s ear sent shivers up his spine, goosebumps on his arms. “My hands are open to have your back. Give it to me this time.”

[deadmandairyland]

Hi! I’m here to bring you yet another Danganronpa tier list: the sexuality tier list, which you can find here.

Now I’m going to be honest here: I don’t really have any LGBT headcanons. It’s just not really something I focus on much when it comes to fandoms. Instead I usually just focus on ships, and as a result from that I tend to present a lot of characters as LGBT in fanfictions and posts I’ve made or reblogged. In other words, a massive chunk of my “headcanons” here are a direct result of shipping (as well as information I’ve picked up from the games themselves). That being said, it was interesting to actually think about this for once, so I’m kinda glad I did the tier list. And it gave me an excuse to bring back the rainbow color scheme I usually put in my tier lists for aesthetic reasons.

The original tier list had Straight at the top, but I moved it to the bottom for two reasons. One, this is Tumblr and that’s not what you’re here for. Two, I gave it a neutral color, and having a gray section next to a white section (i.e. the title of the list) like that looked bad to me. I definitely prefer this setup just on aesthetic alone.

Because this is largely based on ships, I feel it needs to be said that representation does not factor into this chart in any way. I know it probably looks bad that the only character in the Lesbian category is one of my least favorite (though NOT hated or even disliked, I should point out) characters in the main series. That has nothing to do with the fact that she’s a lesbian. She’s just a jerk, and usually not in a way that’s at least entertaining enough for me to like her.

Also keep in mind that this is just the main cast of the main series games. If you were to include characters from the DR3 anime, UDG, or the spin-offs, the Gay, Lesbian, and Ace categories would get more rep, certainly. Think Juzo, Yui, Takemichi, that gay guy with the trumpet, etc.

With that said, let’s go through the list:

Gay

Not gonna lie, one of the reasons why Rantaro is here (and not in Ace) is because of ships. Though I do sometimes ship him with girls, canon suggests he’s not interested in dating girls, and most fans seem to headcanon him as either gay or ace because of this, so I respected that. That being said, I also acknowledge he’s a very popular character in mlm ships, and at the time I was putting this together I hadn’t gotten to Taka yet so the Gay tier was still empty, and Byakuya was already sitting in Ace, so all of that swayed me to putting Rantaro here instead of Ace.

Taka was much easier to place here. He strikes me as a closeted gay man who probably doesn’t even realize he is gay. “Hey, let’s all hang out in the bath, guys! Getting naked is essential to form bonds with your fellow man! No need to be ashamed, it’s tradition!"

Lesbian

Again, ships. I only ship Hiyoko with one other character, and as soon as I say that you already know who she is.

Bisexual (Male Preference)

Akane is mostly here to account for any wlw ships I may have of her (e.g. Hina, Sonia maybe). Obviously she has a thing with Nekomaru, so Male Preference.

Chiaki is here for the same reason as Akane. I’ve shipped her with characters like Sonia and Ibuki before, but she really digs Hajime.

Chihiro honestly could have been anywhere in the Bi and Pan sections, but I ultimately went with Male Preference because of ships, specifically the fact that outside of the more... R18 circles of the Interwebs Chihiro tends to be shipped with guys more often than girls. Also doesn’t hurt that my OTP is Naehiro. I mean, have you seen how often Chihiro blushes around Makoto? (There’s more to it than that, as I’ve covered in the past. I’m just trying to add more fuel to the fire.)

Himiko is probably one of the few characters that isn’t here mainly because of ships. I do think she has some attachment towards Tenko, but I also get “I’m uncomfortable around her” vibes from her, and there are moments where she seems to crush on Kokichi (of all people) so that’s why she’s here. Still very much bi, though.

Hina has a crush on Makoto and has a complex around wishing she was more feminine so she can attract boys. So why isn’t she in the Straight section? ...Because Sakura, duh. And Kyoko too. And any other wlw ship you can think of that might work with Hina.

Honestly if it wasn’t for Miu I probably would have considered putting Kokichi in Gay. Again, while shipping plays a big part of my choices here, much like with Rantaro I have no qualms with putting a character in a tier that contradicts any ships I might have with that character, if those ships aren’t something I’m super invested in. This is a very important distinction, because it’s why I let ships sway my hand for so many of these even if I am also okay with going “Just because I ship this doesn’t mean I headcanon it” as I did with Rantaro. And honestly Kokichi’s ship teasing with Himiko does come off as more trollish than a sign that he’s into her, but he really gets into his back-and-forth with Miu, in my personal opinion, and he gets into it far more often with her for that matter. It’s why it’s one of my favorite ships for both of them tbh, and it’s because I like the ship so much that I just can’t ignore it for this sexuality headcanon tier list.

Maki... is here because of ships (e.g. Kaede).

Sakura... is here because of ships (e.g. Hina). ...What, you were expecting me to put a guy in the example? Remember, she has a boyfriend in canon.

Sayaka... is here because of... NOT ships, but DRAT. Yes, really. (”We really got down and dirty, Naegi-kun.”)

Sonia... strikes me as someone who swings both ways. I can’t describe exactly why I feel that way, but yes.

Bisexual (No Preference)

Celeste wants a harem of vampire boys but shipping her with Kyoko is also very popular and honestly i feel like it would fit her character. She’s got a look that says “I could get any ass I want and I know it.”

Ibuki is decked out in blues and pinks, and also I ship her fairly evenly among both boys and girls. She just screams bi icon to me, more so than any other character in the series.

Junko is either bi with no preferences or pan. She is an equal opportunity heart-and-soul-breaker and lust-for-despair machine.

There is no Mukuro in this list, but honestly I would probably put her where I put Junko anyway.

Kaede... is here because of ships (e.g. Miu, Maki)

Honestly I had no idea where to put Kirumi, so I just randomly chose one that I wouldn’t regret later if I ever put more thought into who I shipped her with.

I’m pretty sure Nagito being bisexual has some degree of canon attached to it??? I think??? I’m not entirely sure tbh, but fuck it. I’m doing this for fun anyway, so this doesn’t really matter.

Shuichi, like all Danganronpa protags, is bi as fuck. I also find him to be more shippable with guys than the other two protags, so IMO he has no preference.

Toko might have a thing or two for pretty boys, but... Komaru, I mean, this isn’t exactly shocking, I don’t think. Probably was closeted before she met Komaru. I mean she did focus on Hina’s boobs a lot in DR1, let’s not forget.

Tsumugi, much like Kirumi, is here because I haven’t put much thought into her ships.

Bisexual (Female Preference)

Gundham has a thing with Sonia in canon, but I can see him being bi. So... yeah, ships again.

Hajime, like all Danganronpa protags, is bi as fuck. It’s just that his Chiaki and Mikan game is just too strong.

Hifumi might claim to only like 2D, but his interest in Chihiro both in human form and computer program form (and the fact that this didn’t go away after the gender reveal) places him here.

Kaito strikes me as a closeted bisexual. The kind that could start any given conversation with “I’m not gay, but...”

Kazuichi also strikes me as a closeted bisexual, only his “I’m not gay, but...” is rooted more in dumbass than it is in systematic homophobia.

Korekiyo... is here because of ships (e.g. Rantaro).

Kyoko is bi as fuck, and I can see her having a preference towards girls in particular. She gets shipped with girls a lot (e.g. Celeste, Hina, Yui, and even Junko and Mukuro), and when she is shipped with boys it’s usually just pretty boys (e.g. Makoto, Byakuya, Ryota, Shuichi, and, depending on your interpretation, Chihiro). Also note that aside from Makoto and maybe Byakuya, Kyoko’s girl ships are far more popular than her boy ships. Just something I’ve noticed over the years.

Leon... is here because of ships (e.g. Chihiro).

Mahiru is here because I’m pretty sure she has a thing for Hajime in her FTEs, but obviously she tends to get shipped with girls more often (especially Hiyoko), and I agree.

Makoto, like all Danganronpa protags, is bi as fuck. It’s just that his Kyoko, Hina, Sayaka, and Mukuro game is just too strong.

Mikan may be interested in Hajime somewhat, but her obsession with Junko cannot be ignored, no matter how much some of you may want to.

Mondo is another character that strikes me as a closeted bisexual. He is said to strike out all the time with girls, so I do think he’s attracted to women. And I do get some vibes that he’s attracted to Chihiro pre-reveal. And if circumstances had been different, I imagine he probably still would have been post-reveal. But obviously it’s his bond with Taka that I feel cements his sexuality in, at the very least, an mlm category.

Tenko... is here NOT because of ships, but because I’m pretty sure she’s at least sort of interested in Shuichi because of some canon thing... and also I don’t want to put her in Lesbian just because it feels like I’d be stereotyping the Lesbian category if I do that. If we were to compare her to the character that I did put in Lesbian, Hiyoko doesn’t treat people like shit because they’re men, she’s an equal-opportunity asshole. Still not the best representation for lesbians by a long shot, but at least Hiyoko doesn’t follow the stereotype of a man-hating lesbian. She’s just like that, and that’s okay. But putting Tenko there, especially if she’s shown some degree of interest in a male character at some point in the game, just rubs me the wrong way personally, because it would feel like I’m ignoring canon just to stereotype her. But that’s just a personal hang up of mine. No disrespect intended toward anyone who genuinely feels that Tenko is a lesbian. Maybe you see something there that I don’t, and that’s perfectly fine.

Pansexual

I don’t remember exactly how her FTEs went, so I’m not going to get into that, but Angie just comes off as pan to me, like gender doesn’t fit into the equation at all for her.

Gonta I can see as either pan or ace. I feel like he wouldn’t care about gender, and honestly the only reason I decided to put him in Pan rather than Ace is because of that scene with Miu.

Imposter is not only pan, they are currently OT3ing it up with Ibuki and Ryota as we speak, and that’s a fact.

Keebo... is mostly here because of ships. A lot of ships, actually. Mostly male ships (Kokichi, Shuichi, Kazuichi, and, depending on your interpretation, Chihiro) but there’s also Miu to consider. And the Miu game is SO strong that I put him in Pan instead of, say, Male Preference.

Just gonna lump them together because I have the same thing to say about both of them: Miu and Teruteru would **** anything that walks. What did I censor? Well, I’m doing the Nier: Automata thing, so you can put whatever you want in there and trust me, it would probably fit, for better or for worse.

Ace

I know this is an unpopular opinion, because Naegami, but I just don’t think Byakuya is interested in anyone, at least not in that way. He might be fascinated with how common people live, because it’s so foreign to him, but that’s about it.

Straight

Even though I do ship Fuyuhiko with some of the boys, his Peko game is so strong that honestly I can’t see him actually dating anyone aside from Peko outside of some very niche fanfiction.

Honestly, Hiro was another one that I was just like “I have no idea what to do with you.” I think maybe his team up with Kanon made me eventually choose to put him in Straight? I don’t remember. I clearly didn’t put much thought into Hiro.

I really only ship Nekomaru with Akane, so that’s why he’s here. I’m sure if I dive deep enough into my psyche I can pull an mlm ship with Nekomaru in it out of my ass, but like Rantaro that wouldn’t be significant enough to change anything.

Peko is in the same boat as Fuyuhiko. I have shipped her with girls before, but her Fuyuhiko game is just too strong.

Ryoma had a girlfriend once, and as far as I can remember he didn’t really seem interested in anybody in the game, so that’s all I have to go off of for him.

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So there you have it. Explanations for literally all of them! Explanations that were definitely not pulled out of my ass as I was typing them, nope, certainly not. Definitely won’t be tagging all of them, but I may tag the ones with the longest entries. And like all the tier lists I’ve done, this was just for fun and honestly any opinion I have for any of these characters could change at a moment’s notice because my brain is fickle like that. Tried my best to make sure that every tier had at least one character in it, but I did so without trying to force characters in places that I personally did not believe they should go. I hope you all enjoyed my dive into this area of fandom that I rarely dive into (the LGBT headcanons, not the ships, obviously). It was a lot of fun, and hopefully it will stay fun and not result in angry anons blasting me for my opinions. I am grateful that this never seems to happen to me, but I’ve seen it happen to others and I know what Tumblr is capable of at its worst. These are just headcanons and a matter of personal opinion, and if you disagree with them, that’s perfectly okay. Your feelings and opinions are also valid.