#might continue this to some real smut at some point

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝒏𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔

summary - we got new neighbours, how do you think it turns out?

warning - smut, oral, fingering, swearing, dark fic (kinda?), some fluff (maybe), stalkerish behaviour, someone might be a panty stealer?, threesome, double penetration, breeding kink, reader is called bunny, age gap, innocent reader.

divider by @firefly-graphics​ gif and header aren’t mine

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping. I start to stretch. I head to the bathroom to do my morning routine. Before heading down to make myself some breakfast. While preparing my food, I notice a moving van is outside. Curious, I watch as this god-like man walks out of the house next door and towards the truck.

My mouth drops open at the sight of him, slightly long dirty blond hair and a dark beard, fuck me. His shirt looks a bit too tight, but who’s complaining? Watching as he picks up a heavy piece of furniture with no struggle, my thighs clench together. Shaking my head, I decide to continue with my breakfast, making plans on how I should introduce myself to my new neighbour.

As the day passes, I decide to bake some pie for the unknown man. After baking a cherry and an apple pie, I head to my room to get dressed. I put on a cute light blue sundress. I grab the pies and head out the door.

As I make my way to the man’s house, I notice a motorbike that wasn’t there before. Heading up the steps, I walk across the porch to the front door and knock. The door swings open after a second of waiting. Standing there in all of his glory is the man from before.

He smiles, “Hi, how can I help you?” what I don’t notice is how his eyes slowly drag down my body and back up again, having wild thoughts. “Hi, I’m Y/N, your neighbour. I thought I’d welcome you to the neighbourhood with uh these.” I say nervously, thrusting the pies into his hands, stunned. He holds onto them tightly while smiling at me.

“Thank you. I’m Steve. It’s nice to meet you, and uh, you didn’t have to do this.” He gestures to the pies, and I just shrug. The scent coming off of him is getting to me and making my brain all fuzzy. “Do you want to come in?” Nodding, he moves aside to let me in. “You have a nice place.” I smile at him, “Steve! Who was at the doo-” A man with short brown hair and a metal arm stops short once his eyes land on me. “Well, hello, who’s this?” He smirks, looking me up and down while licking his lips, “Uh Buck, this is Y/N. She’s our neighbour, and she baked us some pies.” Bucky moves closer, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, “Well, that’s real nice of you, doll.” My cheeks turn red, and I subtly rub my thighs together (I like to think I did). The attention from both of these men is getting to me.

“Would you like something to drink, doll?” I don’t hear anything he says, as his closeness makes my mind fuzzy. “I think we broke her, Stevie.” Steve moves behind me, running his fingers down my arms. “You okay, darling?” 

“Uh huh” Nodding dumbly, I’ve never felt this turned on and so submissive for anyone before. Bucky leans down and stares into my eyes, “You’re going to be a good little bunny for us, aren’t you?” I hum in response, eyes threatening to close as I feel Steve’s hand glide up my leg, and he starts rubbing me through my knickers. They both smirk and attack my neck with kisses.

I whimper and moan as Steve rubs my little button through my knickers. Bucky gets on his knees and lifts my dress. He watches as his best friend works magic against me. Noticing the wet patch that has formed, “Aww, poor bunny. I can’t wait to taste you.” His words shock me to the point of orgasm, spasming against Steve’s hold. Moans escape my lips, pussy clenching around nothing.

I start to cry from the extreme pleasure. Bucky leans forward and starts to suck my clit through my knickers. I grip onto his hair, and screams fall from my lips. “Mmm, you taste delicious, bunny.”

“Y/N”, Steve waves a hand in front of my face, “hello? Doll?” Bucky strokes my cheek while looking into my eyes. “Hmm?” I come back to my senses and realise I was standing there imagining this the whole time. I feel so humiliated that I just zoned out like that. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry! That’s never happened before!” I frantically let out. Steve and Bucky reassure me that it’s okay. “We were just asking if you wanted something to drink before you sorta zoned out.” Making an O face, I quickly nod. “Yes, please, if it’s not too much trouble”, Steve smiles, walking towards the kitchen. “Not at all, bunny.” My brows furrow, “huh?” looking at me, he replies, “I said, not at all, darling.” Shaking my head, it feels so fuzzy. Especially being around these men, “now what would you like? We have tea, coffee, water, juice, etc.?” 

“Uh, water, please.” Nodding, he grabs a bottle before heading over and handing it to me. Thanking him, we sit at a table as Bucky puts down a few plates for the pies. While Bucky starts to cut into the apple pie, he groans slightly. “I can’t wait to taste you.” My eyes grow wide, and my mouth opens and closes like a fish. “Sorry?” 

He places a piece of pie on our plates while looking at me. He sucks a bit of pie off of his thumb. “I said I couldn’t wait to taste your pie, doll.” 

“Oh…” I take a massive gulp of water. After the mishaps, we managed to chat and get to know each other a little more. After a while, it started to get dark, and we said our goodbyes and I headed home. Missing the smirks on their faces.

It’s been a couple of weeks since Steve and Bucky moved in. They’ve been wonderful. Helping out with things even when I’ve said they didn’t have to, but they insisted, and I bake them sweets in return. Today isn’t any different, I don’t know how but my air-con broke, and it’s a scorching day. I got dressed in a small white sundress, having just bought it. It felt so lovely, perfect for this weather. Heading over next door, I knock and wait. Steve answers the door, his chest dripping with sweat and his lower half accompanied by small shorts. I nearly faint. I still haven’t worked out how to control when I’m around them. Yet another pair of knickers are ruined once I feel the slick drench them. 

He smiles, taking a sip of his coffee. “Morning, darling. How can we help you this morning?” Playing with my fingers, I shyly smile at him. “Good Morning, Stevie. My air-con is acting up, and I was wondering if you could come to take a look?” I ask while looking up at him so innocently.

In Steve’s mind, he’s trying so hard to control himself as he doesn’t want to scare me off with the image of his cock hardening in his sad excuse of shorts. “Sure we can, darling. Let me just get some clothes on and grab Buck. We’ll meet you over there.” He flashes me a smile, and I thank him.

I hurry home, wanting to get inside as quickly as possible. Once inside, I lean against the door, trying to catch my breath and stop my heart from beating wildly. I keep the door unlocked, head over to the kitchen, and start making some lemonade. Hearing a few knocks, I yell. The door is open. I listen to them enter and make their way to where I am. 

“Hi, boys!” I cheerfully greet them. Steve may have been stunned when he opened the door to your dress, but seeing you again now, both he and Bucky froze. Bucky shakes out of it before heading over and greeting you. “Hey, doll.” He rests a hand on my hip and kisses my cheek. I start to blush again, whacking him softly.

Steve heads over to me and places a hand on my other hip, kissing me on my other cheek. I can feel myself throb again. Being between them makes me want to strip and spread out for them. Shakily letting out a breath, I try to calm my hormones down.

“So…” Bucky starts while looking around, “where is this thing?” Steve nods, agreeing. “I’ll have to show you, uh, follow me” I walk towards my bedroom. They stay behind, watching my hips sway. They lick their lips, eyeing me as a predator would prey.

Walking into my room, I point it out. Immediately they get to work. Before I leave the room, I asked if they wanted something to eat or drink, and they asked for lemonade. Once I go to get the drinks, they smirk at each other. I never noticed that the lock on my window was broken and many of my dirty knickers were missing. (Dirty in the sense that every time I was with them, I had to go and change them.)

Walking back in, I hand them their drinks. “Thanks, bunny.” The nickname makes me clench my thighs together. Both men gulp down the drinks. Staring at me while licking their lips. A soft moan leaves my lips, and dirty thoughts enter my mind, but I quickly push them away as I find them inappropriate. “It’s getting a bit hot in here, doll. Do you mind if we take our shirts off?” Choking a bit, I shake my head. “No, uh. Go for it” Watching them take their shirts off was like watching porn. I had to look away quickly. “Why don’t you go and make us some food while we get this fixed for you, bunny” Steve all but commands. Nodding obediently, I hurry out of the room. I return to the kitchen and put on my cute little cherry apron.

I start making some wraps and fruit salads whilst putting a pie in the oven for them. Back in my room, they scout around. Steve heads over to my laundry basket, smirking when he finds a pair of my white knickers with a cute little blue bow on the front. He turns to Bucky and waves them, putting them to his face. He takes a sniff. Groaning, Bucky heads over, and Steve hands it to him. He does the same thing. Bucky throws his head back, cock twitching in his pants. 

They look at each other with dark looks on their faces. Hearing footsteps, they quickly rush to their positions. Bucky stuffed the undergarments in his pocket, and they turned to see me walking in. A soft smile on my face, holding a tray of food and drinks for them. “I hope this is okay”, Smiling. Steve walks over. Placing a hand on my cheek, “of course it is, bunny. It’s perfect.” Looking at my cheek, he runs a finger over it. “You’ve got flour on your cheek, little bunny.” 

Embarrassed, I go to pull away, but he doesn’t let me as he just smiles warmly at me, a hint of darkness in his eyes. Suddenly he pouts, brows furrowed. Growing worried, I place my hand on his cheek “are you okay? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry!” My words rush out, but he quickly shakes his head. “No, no. You didn’t do anything. I just, well, Bucky and I have been in a lot of pain lately.” 

Even more worried, I quickly check for wounds. “Bunny, you won’t be able to see it. But if you want to help, no-never mind. It wouldn’t be right.” 

“What is it? I’ll do anything to help! I wouldn’t want you guys to be in pain.” Both Bucky and Steve nearly cum right then and there from my naiveness. “Well, doll… It’s our cocks” My eyes widen, licking my lips. My gaze drops down to their crotches. I look back at their eyes, “what’s wrong with them?” Bucky walks closer and stands next to Steve, licking his lips. He slowly drags his eyes up my body, “well, they keep becoming hard, bunny, and we try to make it go away, but whatever we do doesn’t work, and it’s just so painful. Are you sure you want to help, bunny?”

Slowly nodding my head, both of their faces beam. “How can I help, though?” I pout. They both gently guide me to my bed. They both un-do their pants and pull out their cocks. So big and red and angry looking, like they are in pain, gasping. My thighs rub together, and I look at them for guidance.

“You really are a dumb little bunny. Spit on your hands, baby and then give them to us” I shyly spit on my hands before placing them in their awaiting ones. They smirk at each other again before bringing my hand down to their cocks and wrapping my hands around them, both men groaning. “Is something wrong?” I freak, thinking I put them in more pain. “It’s okay, doll. Just move your hand up and down, and don’t forget to squeeze us a bit. Don’t worry about being too rough. We like it that way.” Groans leave their mouths as I start to stroke their cocks, giving them a firm squeeze. I watched the tip leak with pre-cum, licking my lips and fighting the urge to lean forward and lick it.

Steve notices my struggle. “It’s okay, bunny. You can have a taste. It’ll help with the pain.” Looking up with an innocent look, they both have to try and hold back from cumming. I lean forward and decide to test it with Steve’s cock first. Sticking my tongue out, I lick the tip. He spasms and grunts, hands fisting into the bed sheets. “Jesus, fuck. That’s a good bunny. Keep going, baby. You’re doing so good!” 

Happy that I’m making him feel better, I wrap my lips around his tip and start to suck. Whilst still stroking Bucky, Steve grabs ahold of Bucky’s hand and squeezes. His hips jerk up, and his cock goes deeper into my mouth, causing me to gag for a split second before continuing to suck. Fondling his balls, he moans loudly. “Jesus, bunny. I’m going to cum, and you better swallow it all.” Doing my best to nod, I continue my work before he shoots his load down my throat, holding the back of my head, so I don’t try to escape. 

Swallowing it all before moving off his cock, I open my mouth and show him. His cock twitches from the action. He praises me, causing me to let out a big grin before turning my attention to Bucky. He watches me with the darkest glint in his eyes, “you going to be a good bunny for me, doll?” Nodding, I lean forward and start to lick his cock, becoming addicted to their taste, wrapping my lips around the tip. I begin to suck hard before moving down his cock by myself, both pairs of eyes grow wide. Looking at each other with disbelief but are happy they’ve turned their little bunny into a little whore.

Drool comes out of the side of my mouth as I suck Bucky’s cock deeper down my throat, doing the same with his balls as I did to Steve’s. I’m so focused on Bucky that I don’t notice Steve get off the bed and lift my little dress behind me. He looks down at my cotton-white-covered pussy, noticing the wet patch. He groans. “Bucky, you should see this.” He takes out his phone and snaps a photo, smirking. 

“I can’t wait to taste you, little bunny.” He ducks down, playing with my button before moving my knickers to the side. Leaning forward, he licks a stripe up my pussy. Moans leave my mouth and vibrate around Bucky’s cock. “Fuck, keep doing that.” Steve sucks my clit into his mouth, placing a finger inside of me. Thrusting it inside of me at a fast pace, swirling his tongue. Vibrations are sent through Bucky each time. He grips the back of my head before letting out a loud groan and cumming down my throat. 

I swallow, wanting to be their good girl. Being thrust forward, I grip onto Bucky’s thighs, squeals leaving me as Steve continues to eat me out. He stops, and I pout, confused. “Don’t worry, baby. But we’re still in pain, and the only way it’ll go away is if we’re both inside of you.” Bucky says while stroking my cheek.

Looking confused, I just agree as I want to continue to feel the pleasure I felt before. Steve helps me get onto the bed, and all three of us strip down. They stare at my body, looking ready to devour me.

“Buck, did you still want a taste?” Bucky grunts. The next thing he knew was that the finger inside of me was now inside his mouth. “Fuck, doll. You taste so good, next time, I’m going to have a full-on fucking feast, and no one will stop me.”

Placing me onto Bucky’s lap, he lines his cock to the entrance of my pussy. Moaning at the sight of it, I start to beg. Everything I’ve been holding back is finally coming out, “please, oh god, please. I’ve been good!” They both agree. Bucky slides in, and a whimper slips out of me. He groans at the tightness. “Fucking hell, doll. You’re so damn tight.” 

My walls squeeze the life out of his cock. He starts to thrust a few times. Feeling me stretch a tiny bit, he moans out when my nails dig into his shoulders. My head tucked into his neck as small whimpers leave me, “oh god… why does it feel so good….” I cry out. I start to bounce on Bucky’s cock. Circling my hips and losing myself to the pleasure. After a while, Steve comes up behind me, “you ready for me, little bunny?” Nodding, Bucky places his hands on my hips, stopping my movements and letting Steve rub his cock against my already filled hole. “Now, this may hurt or feel uncomfortable for a while, bunny. I’ll try to go as gentle as I can.” He reassures me, slowly pushing in. A gasp of pain leaves my lips, causing Bucky to distract me quickly. Bucky brings his lips to mine and pulls me into a deep kiss. With this distraction, Steve pushes all the way in.

None of them move, letting me adjust to both of their cocks inside of me. Leaning back into Steve’s chest, four hands are exploring my body. From grabbing and squeezing my breasts and flicking my nipples. To grabbing and marking the rest of me, Steve’s hand comes to the front and starts to rub my clit.

“Such a good bunny, taking both of us so well.” I pulse around them, and moans leave me as pleasure starts to erupt from inside of me. Whines leave my lips as I become desperate. “Please move. I’m your good bunny…. Oh please, I’ll be so good!” My eyes roll to the back of my head, and they both start to move. As one pulls out, the other pushes in and so forth.

Both pick up the pace, relentlessly pounding into my tiny hole, pounding upwards into me, causing my entire body to bounce. The room filled with groans, moans and grunts. “Fuck, doll. Fuck, you’re squeezing us so tight.” Bucky grabs onto my sides and starts fucking me down onto them, not slowing down, brutally fucking me onto them as their ragdoll. Squeals leave me as I can feel their massive cocks hitting the spot deep inside of me. It feels like they're splitting me open. Fucking into my womb, nails dig into both of their skins.

Steve leans down and whispers into my ear, “you like this, bunny? You want us to cum deep inside of you and breed you? Have you full of our babies, hm? - Fuck… I can feel that you like that, bunny.” My eyes roll entirely to the back of my head, my brain completely fuzzy. They feel me go completely limp. Smirking at each other, they continue. Cumming deep inside of me, then maneuvering me into another position.

Their constant fucking went on for hours, using my body to their liking. Occasionally I’d wake, moaning and clawing at them from being overstimulated so many times. Only to black out again. For hours, taking turns eating me out, stuffing me full of cum. Once they finished. Steve got up and grabbed a cloth, running it under water. He walks over and starts to clean me.

“Mmm, no more, please,” I mumble, still dazed. Bucky kisses my head, “don’t worry, doll. We won’t continue. Did you want us to run you a bath and order food?” He asks, pushing hair out of my face. Both of them looked at me fondly, nodding my head. Steve picks me up and carries me bridal style towards the bathroom.

Bucky walks ahead and starts the bath for me, putting in some oils and bubbles. Steve places me in the tub, “just relax, bunny. You did good for us.” He kisses my forehead before they both head out of the room, grabbing hold of the sheets. They swap them for cleaner ones and place the dirty ones in the laundry.

“Well… that went great, don’t you think, Stevie?” Bucky smirks, and Steve nods. “I didn’t think it would be so easy, but now she’s ours forever.” 

Bucky orders some food while Steve comes into the bathroom, helping me wash myself and my hair. He was running his fingers through it, giving my scalp a massage, causing little noises to leave my mouth. Once I’ve finished the bath, Steve helps me out and wraps me in a towel, heading back to the room. He dries me and then dresses me in a soft white nightie.

Bucky walks in and smiles at me. I ordered us some pizza, doll. I hope that’s alright.” Nodding, I make grabby hands towards him. He walks over and coos at me, taking me out of Steve’s arms and holding me. 

“You ours, doll?” I nod, “words, bunny.”

“Yes, I’m yours.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[authurials]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ... 2/3

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 . harwin looks to make good on his promise to wed you by the end of day

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 . one / three

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 . 18+ situations

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 . pushed through this while feeling under the weather, but finally it is done and i can turn my attention towards the longer piece i’ve been thinking about (hint: it has the main character as the younger sister of harwin and larys). it will be strictly posted on ao3 but i’ll post on here when it’s published and when each update comes out. now in terms of this piece, i might (and that’s a strong might), make a third part at some point about their first time as husband and wife because that was my intention with this piece but as of now i don’t have it in me to write smut. with all that being said, remember to like, comment and reblog if you enjoy reading! do not repost/claim as your own please

𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 accusing stare of a dragon was not a comfortable position to be in you were quickly coming to realize; it was a situation in which not even a cup of wine like the one in front of you could offer any real resolve to. When placed in a predicament such as yours all one could really do was sit and wait and maybe hope for a bit of mercy from the dragon. After all, it was you that was the cause of all the dragon’s ire and frustrations on that particularly gloomy morning.

Across from you sat the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the pale-haired beauty that was Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen; she sat stoically with her cup of wine in hand, bringing it slowly to her lips without ever taking her eyes off of you. It would be foolishly prideful of you to deny any idea as to why your lover had been so bewitched and loyal to her all of these years. She was pretty after all–ridiculously so; but not only that, she had this indescribable aura about her, one that exuded this undeniable affinity for power and fire.

Rhaenyra Targaryen was truly a dragon–one that you had managed to piss off.

“Ser Harwin Strong came to me earlier this morning,” she finally broke the tension after taking a sip from her cup. Setting it down, she continued, “but I suppose you were already aware of his intention to visit.”

“I was, your grace,” you bowed your head, both in an attempt to seem respectful and as a way to escape her piercing gaze; her eyes were dark that day, resembling the steel of that of a freshly constructed blade–heat still sizzling on the sharp edge.

Earlier that day, before the sun had barely broken free of the horizon and rose steadily into the sky, you had awoken for once in the arms of Ser Harwin Strong–your shared lover, your newly intended husband. It was not often that he could stay long enough for you to fall asleep let alone hold you in his arms throughout the night, and upon these rare occasions you would commonly take advantage with a late start to the day. However, that morning was not one for such luxuries and Harwin had departed soon after awakening, wasting no time in making good on his promise to be wed by the end of that day.

“Then I am sure you are also aware of his intention to step down as Lord Commander,” the princess hummed, “and take you as his wife.”

There was no point in denying it really; the princess had been aware of your presence in Harwin’s life since before they even began their affair together. She was also aware that there had never been any way in which to forbid Harwin from being with you–she had never wanted to try and cage him in such a way; so instead the two of you had had an unspoken understanding, you kept quiet about what you knew and she would allow Harwin to continue seeing you.

“Yes, I am aware of this,” you replied after a moment’s pause, finally raising your head once more to meet her gaze.

“I told him I could not allow this,” Rhaenyra’s lips were set in a grim line, your own down-turning into a frown as your heart skipped a beat. “His stepping down as Lord Commander will only further the suspicions surrounding my children in court, I am sure you can understand this.”

“Your grace-” you opened your mouth to defend your position; already the hope that had filled you since last night was dwindling away like a weak flame.

“But it appears he cannot be swayed from this decision,” the princess cut you off with a sigh, finger tracing the rim of her cup as she thoughtfully looked at its contents.

“I-” you took a deep breath to calm yourself once more, it would do you no good to become upset and therefore irrational. “I am not quite sure I understand what you are saying.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze met yours once more, holding it there as she spoke, “it is apparent that Ser Harwin is of one mind and cannot be persuaded to see better reason.”

She shifted in her chair, straightening her back as she folded her hands in front of her.

“And although it pains me to let him go,” she continued, smiling sadly, “the thought of refusing him this pains me more oddly enough.”

A part of you dared not believe what you were hearing, fearful to hope that after all these years of waiting things could fall into place so easily. If Harwin and you were to have the princess’ blessing, the only obstacle left in your path would be that of your current promise to Larys. Your father could hardly refuse a better match–Harwin was the heir of his father, and a knight unlike any other in the realm. The only problem you could foresee is Harwin’s father, who might not take kindly to you snubbing one son for the other.

“Although,” Rhaenyra’s voice drew you back to the matter at hand, “perhaps I could persuade you to make him see how foolish he is being?”

“Your grace?” You frowned.

“This union will have its consequences,” she explained, “not only for Harwin and I, but you as well. Surely you know that I am not the only one they whisper about in the court? These rumors will only worsen if you are intent on marrying, especially as soon as tonight; it will be seen as confirmation of what they suspected all along.”

“And what is it that they suspect?” You asked, raising an eyebrow; you were well aware of what people said about you, you just wanted to hear Rhaenyra say it.

“That Ser Harwin has been bedding us both, and that he has managed to put a babe into you as he has done to me thrice now,” she offered you a crooked smile. “Only this time his trysts have caught up to him and now he is being forced to marry you.”

You snorted, breaking out into laughter that the princess soon joined in; although there was truth to it, the drama of it all was rather amusing to the both of you.

“I care not for what others think,” you said once you had both finished, one last chuckle escaping your lips as you smiled fondly at the woman across from you. “I only care that I will finally be able to call the man I have loved for so many years my husband, and that he will call me his wife. They can say what they want about me, our love is my armor as your station is yours, princess.”

She regarded you with amusement still warm in her eyes, bowing her head respectfully before standing up.

“Then there is nothing more for us to discuss.”

Leaving the princess’ apartments was like leaving a dream, a dream that you could hardly dare believe to be true even as the proof was waiting for you outside. Harwin was leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he waited, but the moment the door opened to reveal you he was pushing off to greet you. After a quick glance around, you noted that there was no one to bear witness to the exchange so you relaxed as he took your hands. Feeling the leather of his gloves under your fingers, you looked up into his concerned eyes.

“When I heard she had called you for a meeting in her solar, I feared-” he began.

“I know,” you interjected, nodding. “I feared the worst as well but I believe the princess has come to see that this is inevitable.”

“I do not wish to cause her any pain,” Harwin admitted, ducking his head.

“Nor do I,” you insisted, pushing back a curtain of curls as you reach up to cup his face, “but she understands this is what you–we–want. She wants you to be happy, Harwin.”

“And I want the same for her,” Harwin hummed, looking up to gaze into your eyes. “Does that upset you?”

You paused for a moment, contemplating the answer to his question. Many a time you had found yourself jealous of the relationship Harwin had with Princess Rhaenyra; it was only natural after all to not want to share the man you loved with another, and certainly not with one as beautiful as her. Not only had you envied her beauty, but also the sons she had bore Harwin, the sons you had not been allowed to give him. A part of you would most likely always resent the woman for what she had been able to share with Harwin, but now that resentment dulled in comparison to the respect you now held for the future heir.

“No,” you laughed softly, smiling. “I would expect nothing less from the man that I love then to wish the best for the mother of his children. She will always be a part of who you are, Harwin, and since I adore every part of you then there is love in my heart for her as well.”

“You never fail to surprise me,” Harwin chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Pulling away, he muttered, “and every part, you say?”

“That is quite enough of that, ser,” you scold teasingly, even as you leaned up for another kiss, “at least until we are wed.”

“Then thank the gods I intend to make you mine this very night,” he smirked. “I had just finished speaking with our fathers when I heard word of your meeting with Princess Rhaenyra.”

“You spoke with my father?” You asked, suddenly uneasy once more. “What did he say?”

“He was surprisingly more agreeable than my own,” Harwin sighed, folding his hands behind his back as he stood to his full height once more. The pair of you began to walk, you listening intently as Harwin recounted what transpired. “Of course, why would he not be? I am my father’s heir, after all, and if you are to be my wife that would make our children the heirs to Harrenhal.”

“And your father?” You pressed, remembering your earlier concerns.

“He has….concerns,” Harwin hesitated, looking straight ahead as you continued on your way. “There is Larys of course, which you have already been betrothed to; luckily an official announcement has yet to be made, which will make for less questions when we wed. However, father has made it clear I am to find him a suitable replacement as soon as possible.”

“In a way of apology?” You inquired.

“Aye,” he nodded, frowning. “Yet it is not only my brother that causes my father hesitation, but also the implications of our hasty union.”

“People will talk,” you agree, “not that they are not already–this will simply confirm what they all already believe to be true.”

“I am aware,” he sighs, “but that offers little comfort to my father’s ailing fears over our House’s reputation.”

“He is opposed to us marrying then,” you stated with certainty, teeth beginning to worry your bottom lip.

“Not opposed,” Harwin shakes his head, taking you around the corner, your hand tucked into the corner of his elbow; it is then that you realize the both of you are headed back towards your chamber. “I will not deny that he has his concerns, but he ultimately has agreed to support the union because at least it will put a stop to the speculation–eventually. I would also like to think he wishes his son to be happy with the woman that he loves.”

He nudged you teasingly, causing you to smile with ease once more as you continued your walk. There was more to discuss and much to do if the two of you were to be joined that night, something Harwin continued to insist upon despite your own insistence that you were okay with a longer engagement.

“Afraid you will change your mind, my lord?” You asked, both in jest and out of your own curiosity.

“Never,” Harwin passionately declared as you stopped outside the door to your chambers; you could hear the bustle of someone from within, though you chose not to question it at that time. “I simply wish to waste no more time in making you mine–wholly and completely. I will hesitate no longer when it comes to this matter.”

“This matter,....” you teased, rolling your eyes. “You make it sound so romantic.”

“It is what I do best,” he chuckled, giving your hand one last squeeze before letting it go. “It appears the handmaids I requested have arrived and begun preparations for tonight. It would be rude to keep them waiting any longer, my love, so I am afraid we must part ways–for now.”

“Handmaids?” You raised an eyebrow. “My, you have been busy this morning, Ser Harwin.”

“As I said before–no more hesitating,” he smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips as his hands rested on your lower back. “My decisions must be quick and sure  from now on if I am to be your lord husband. Now, into your chambers with you, wench.”

“Harwin!” You gasped as you felt the sharp sting of his hand on your rear end, gone as quick as it had come. Staring up at him in bewilderment, he chuckled and turned to leave, striding down the hallways and leaving you a blushing mess. Not for the first time, you thanked the gods for the emptiness of your surroundings before quickly disappearing into your room.

You were greeted by the two familiar faces of your fellow handmaids, girls younger than yourself who had yet to etch out something for themselves in this world. They welcomed you with excited praises and congratulations, wasting no time in helping you undress so that you may soak in the warm bath they had drawn for you. There was still plenty of time before the wedding, but Harwin had made his instructions clear that you were to be pampered until then.

“I cannot believe you are to be wed this very night, my lady,” one of the girls, Dacey, sighed dreamily; she sat beside the tub, working on some needlepoint while she waited for you to finish so her and the other handmaid, Maege, could help you dress.

“And to someone as handsome as Ser Harwin Strong,” Maege giggled from across the room, laying out your clothes carefully on the bed.

“Handsome, yes,” Dacey nodded, “and strong.”

“I am indeed a very lucky lady,” you laughed, dragging the washcloth down your arm as you regarded the younger girls with amusement. At their age you too had been titillated at the prospect of marriage, having had this romanticized outlook on it; and though you were lucky enough now to marry the man that you loved, you knew that that was not always the case. However, you hoped that someday Maege and Dacey could find their own Ser Harwin–men that were handsome and strong and kind to them.

It is what all women deserved, after all.

“Are you nervous?” Maege asked once you were out of the tub and dried off; you were now pulling on your undergarments, stepping into them with skin still flushed from the warm bath. Behind you, Dacey helped pull together the ties and secure them together, fingers working quickly as Maege unraveled the pieces of your gown.

“A bit I suppose,” you smiled, smoothing out the wrinkles in your undergarment’s skirt. “Although I have known Ser Harwin for years and I feel rather comfortable with him….”

“Do you now?” Dacey asked. You could practically hear the knowing smirk in her voice and you felt yourself blush, fearful you might have let too much slip.

Thankfully, Maege came to rescue by lifting up the layers of underskirt that would go under your gown; together, she and Dacey attached the underskirts to your waist, securing them in place so that they would not slip and fall. The gown itself was a creamy yellow color, pale with golden embroidery on the bodice and sleeves, but otherwise plain in its design. However, you found that you loved its simplicity as the handmaids lifted it so they could lower it over your head and arms. Once the gown was tightened in the back by Dacey, you were free to see yourself for the first time in the mirror.

As you stood in front of it, hands gripping the thickness of its skirts as your still damp hair curled around your face, it finally hit you that you were truly going to be married that very night; not only that, but it was to be with the man you had loved for so many years–since you were a girl of six and ten. There would be no more sneaking around, no more moontea, no more having to hide what you and Harwin were.

“You look beautiful,” Maege smiled over your shoulder, Dacey nodding in agreement as the three of you looked at your reflections in the mirror.

It didn’t dawn on you how nervous you truly were until you were standing outside the small chambers of the sept later that night. Your father stood by your side as you worried your hands together and waited, pacing slightly back and forth.

“What ails you, daughter?” He asked, looking rather reserved with his hands folded behind his back; your relationship with your father had never been a close one, having spent much of the past few years apart with you at court and him off at Harrenhal.

“Nothing, nothing,” you shook your head, frowning as you continued your measured steps. “Well, I suppose it is not nothing….is it natural to be this nervous?”

Your father smiled, looking down at his shoes as he addressed you with a soft laugh: “I am afraid so, my dear. The day I wed your mother, I felt as if the nerves would consume me–and I wasn’t even the one who had to walk down that aisle.”

At the mention of your mother you stopped, looking over at him carefully; your mother had been long since dead, taken by a sickness that had spread throughout your homefront like a barely contained fire. At the time of her passing you had been a girl of two and ten, not yet a woman bloomed and forever without the guidance only a mother could provide. To this day the ghost of her memory haunted the space between you and your father, neither of you able to bridge the gap her absence had created. Yet, in that moment, with your father’s admission, you felt closer to him than you had in all these years.

“It is time,” your father hummed, holding out his hand for you to take. “Shall we, daughter?”

You took a deep breath and took it, allowing him to tuck your arm in the crook of his just as the double doors of the sept were pulled open. The chamber was dimly lit by oil lanterns hung high in the rafters and melting candles scattered about on every available surface. The pews of the religious sept were empty aside from near the front where Harwin’s father and brother sat to the left, similar to Harwin standing at attention on the same side with the septon beside him. The sight of him in his finest cloak and tunic had your heart fit to burst, heavy for once not with the ache of a forbidden love but with your desire for this man.

Your future was now so clearly stretched out in front of you as you were led down the aisle. You could see you and Harwin years from now, husband and wife, children at your feet playing as you both rested by the fire. To some it might have seemed terribly boring, but for you it was all you had ever really wanted, and now it would finally be yours.

As you stopped in front of Harwin, whose own eyes looked nowhere but at you, the septon cleared his throat and began the ceremony: “who here today gives this woman away?”

“Her father does,” your father spoke, placing your hand into Harwin’s outstretched one. You were drawn closer so you were standing by Harwin’s side, the pair of you situated in front of the septon as he continued.

“Very good–” The man nodded. “We stand here in the sight of the gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

With shaking hands, the septon leans forward and ties a pale ribbon around yours and Harwin’s joined hands. As he does, you lift your head to look into Harwin’s eyes, crinkled at the edges as he smiles warmly at you. You smile back nervously, bowing your head once more as the ribbon was finally secured.

“Let it be known that these two are one heart, one flesh, one soul,” the septon spoke. “Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Look upon one another and say the words-”

Hands still tied together, Harwin and you turned to look at one another as you began to resight your vows: “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger….”

As you said the words together, lips moving in sync, gazes unwavering, you were suddenly that girl of six and ten again; meeting Harwin by the Gods Eye under the secrecy of night, stealing glances in the great hall at meals, brief moments together in the shadowed corners of a hallway. Through it all, you had always hoped for this moment.

“I am hers,” Harwin said, “and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

As he spoke, you felt that familiar ache in your throat, but ignoring the threat of tears, you repeated his words:

“I am his, and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

“With this kiss,” Harwin smiled, leaning down, “I pledge my love.”

And with those words, you both sealed that promise with a kiss.

[yoon-kooks]

how many | jjk | 1

Pairing: Jungkook x TattooArtist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut, BadBoy!AU

Summary: To Jeon Jungkook, you're just the cutie who sits across from him in art class. He doesn’t have a clue that you're also the hidden face of his favorite tattoo artist on social media. When the bad boy notices you've taken a surprising interest in his ink, he dares you to explore every inch of his body until all of his tattoos are accounted for. Tempted by his irresistible smile and delicate touch, you might even let him in on your little secret.

Word Count: 5k

Parts: 0 ◆ 1 ◆ 2 ◆ 3 ◆ 4 ◆ 5 ◆ 6

A/N: no smut in this one, but yall lmk if you feel that sexual tension;;;; i also want to mention that some of jk's tattoos in this fic are real & some are made up for the sake of the story ! for new readers, please read the prologue (part 0) before this!

◆ the one you found covered in sweat ◆

On a rare day off from both school and work, you lock yourself in your room, slide your headphones on, and sketch because that’s your idea of a day well-spent. Sure, you could be grabbing lunch with a friend or hanging out by the pool in that new cute bikini you bought, but that’s not really the way your introverted self works.

The relationships you’ve built never extend past where they’re established. You adore your clients who continue to cover their bodies in your art, but you don’t have anything to do with them outside of your parlor. And even when you vibe with a classmate, no one extends an invitation to hang out outside of class. You’re fine with that, though. You like to think you just haven’t made a connection that’s worth investing your personal time into.

You have no real reason to believe it’ll be any different with Jeon Jungkook. For all you know, he treats you the exact same way he treats anyone who sits across from him. After all, he has 100,000 followers whom he’s found a way to charm, one way or another.

Still, you can’t seem to shake the feeling of him being even slightly intrigued by you and your art. The faded bunny tattoo on your hand is a constant reminder of the warm yet playful exchange that went down on the first day of the semester. That was nearly a week ago, and yet, it’s still very much on your mind.

“Y/N, hey, we need to talk,” a voice calls from outside your door with a sense of urgency. “There’s a rumor going around, and I think we need to address it.”

What rumor could a lowkey person like you possibly be involved in? You swear you haven’t done anything problematic or buzz-worthy as of late… or ever, for that matter.

You swing your door open to find your friend & roommate, Kim Seokjin, with a lemon iced tea in one hand and his phone in the other.

“What rumor? Spill the tea,” you demand while pointing at his beverage.

Seokjin takes a long sip of his tea to see if you’ll crack under pressure and fess up to something you didn’t do. When you don’t, he drops the bomb on you. “You’re allegedly dating Jeon Jungkook.”

Of course the ridiculous rumor involves the closest person to a celebrity on campus. You resist the urge to set the record straight before getting some answers. “What makes you say that?”

“He was the first person to follow your new Instagram before I even realized you made another one.” Seokjin flashes his phone screen in your face as if you weren’t already aware of your own IG account. “And the only two accounts you follow are Jungkook and some rando’s art.”

“He sits across from me in art class and said he liked my art.”

“Who? Jungkook or the rando?” Both. You’re surprised Seokjin never considered the possibility that Jungkook and the “rando” were the same person. But then again, Jungkook doesn’t really paint himself as an art student on his @ArtOfKooking account.

“The one I’m allegedly dating,” you say.

“Ah, it makes sense now,” Seokjin nods.

“What makes sense now?”

“You were looking for any excuse to drop that art class before the semester even began,” he says. That’s true. The thought of familiarizing yourself with new people in a new space terrified you. “But since that first day, you’ve been leaving early for class with a big fat smile on your face. If you ask me, I’d say you were more excited to sit across from Jeon Jungkook than to spend the afternoon tattooing a mega celebrity like Park Jimin.”

Seokjin isn’t wrong about how your mood has completely shifted after your first encounter with Jungkook. It’s a lot easier to roll out of bed in the morning when you know there’s at least one person you feel comfortable around in your class. You didn’t realize you were making it obvious enough for your roommate to pick up on, though.

“Most of that is true… except for the rumor itself.” You try to laugh it off, but it doesn’t exactly feel great to be involved in a rumor that others might take as a joke. “Where did you even hear this from?”

“Oh, I made it up five minutes ago after your new account popped up as a suggestion for me to follow,” Seokjin taps his head and grins like he’s some sort of evil genius. To his credit, he really had you fooled. “I just called it a rumor because I knew that was the quickest way to get you out of your room.”

You don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed by your roommate’s antics, so you just glare at him until he feels obligated to say something else.

“So you might not be dating Jeon Jungkook, but it sounds like you caught feelings for him, right?” Seokjin’s tone switches from menace to supportive best friend, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s getting a little too carried away by this sudden development in your social life.

“I can’t develop feelings for someone I’ve only known for less than a week.” You tell this to both your roommate and the irrational half of your heart.

“Okay, what if we just said you’re interested in getting to know him better?” Seokjin asks. That sounds a lot more reasonable at this point in time. Besides, you’ve already gotten a small taste of what Jungkook is like, and it’d be close to impossible to stop there without further investigation. He’s the perfect hook to any essay, song, or story.

“Let’s go with that,” you nod.

“Excellent.” Seokjin makes the high-pitched sound of an unidentifiable creature as he pulls you out of your room. “If you don’t have anything planned for today—which seems to be the case, given you locked yourself behind that door—you should slide into someone’s DMs and see if he’s down to hang.”

“No thank you. I highly doubt that would end well for me.” You don’t even want to consider that as an option for today.

“Does he know about your tattoo work? I’m sure a tatted-up guy like him would love to get a DM from @snowsleeve, an incredible artist who always seems to be completely booked with appointments.”

“He is indeed one of @snowsleeve’s 507,296 followers, but I haven’t told him I’m that person yet.” It’s not a secret identity that you protect with your life, but it’s also not something you just casually bring up to anyone you meet. They either have to snag an appointment or earn your trust in order to experience the viral tattoo artist in her true form—a sleeveless college kid with an unassuming appearance. “I just don’t want that to be the reason why he’s willing to give me a chance, you know?”

“Aww, Y/N, that’s such a noble thing to say,” Seokjin makes a pouty face and brings it in for a hug. “It’s no wonder why you’re still single.”

You roll your eyes at Seokjin’s savage jab at your relationship status, but he does have a point. You’d have much different interactions with the people around you if they knew you were a tattoo artist of all things, let alone one with such a reputation. Life would probably be a little easier that way, but perhaps you aren’t trying to settle for an easy life. You hate yourself for that.

“Anyway, Jungkook’s probably too busy doing whatever the heck guys like him do. Working out or whatever.” You squirm your way out of Seokjin’s embrace and take one step back toward your room where art & solitude await you.

Just before you can get back to sketching, your roommate catches your hand and says, “We should work out too.”

“You hate working out.” You raise an eyebrow at the menace in front of you. “Are you trying to get me to go to the gym with you in hopes that we run into Jungkook there?”

“No, no, I’m just trying to get you out of your cave for an hour and into a place where you might meet a cute boy,” Seokjin clarifies.

“That’s literally the same thing.”

“C’mon, Y/N, what’s the point of designing tattoos in your room all day if you don’t have a boyfriend to put them on?”

“It’s because I spent my entire life creating art in my room that there are other people who want it etched into their skin.”

“Exactly. I think you can afford to spend one day being a little adventurous at the gym.” Your roommate really doesn’t like taking no for an answer, especially when he knows he’s right. “And besides, even if there isn’t a Jungkook sighting, we can work on our abs while you tell me all about this boy.”

“Okay, fine,” you sigh, shutting your door for some privacy to change into leggings and hide the smile you’ve been sporting a lot recently.

After going a little too hard on the ab bench, you decide to walk it off on the treadmill while Seokjin keeps at it with a surprising amount of fire in his eyes. Maybe he likes the gym after all. And if that’s the case, you’ll gladly accompany him again for future workouts because that’s the least you can do for your supportive roommate, even if Jungkook isn’t a regular at this gym.

“Nice hand tattoo.” You immediately identify the owner of that smooth voice and watch him jog toward the treadmills in a black muscle tank that should probably be illegal. Of course Jeon Jungkook is a regular at this gym.

“Thanks, I know a talented tattoo artist,” you say, waving hello to the boy as he steps onto the treadmill to your right. From the corner of your eye, you see him take another peek at your right hand where his faded mark on you still resides.

“I didn’t know you were into working out and stuff.” Jungkook does a not-so-subtle job of eyeing you in your little white crop top and leggings. You figure he thinks either your outfit is cute or you’ve never stepped foot into a gym before. Most likely the latter.

“I’m not,” you admit, even though it’s pretty obvious from the way you occasionally stumble on the treadmill. “I’m just here while my friend is sculpting out a six-pack.”

The boy next to you glances in the direction of the ab benches, not that he’d know what to look for without a visual description of your friend. “Aren’t you bored?” he asks.

You shrug, doubtful that there’s any way to actually make the gym less boring. You’ve accepted your fate at this point, but Jeon Jungkook isn’t a bad consolation prize either.

When it doesn’t appear that anyone else is coming to rescue you from the monotony of the treadmill, Jungkook hops off and presses a button on your machine to slow you to a stop.

He does a quick count on his fingers before cocking his head. “I can think of at least three things that would be more exciting to do at the gym than jogging on a treadmill.”

He waits for you to take a hint, follow his lead, and ditch the treadmill. When you finally do, he brings you over to where everyone is grunting and lifting well above their weight.

Jungkook points to the young man lifting 200 pounds over his chest. “You think you can do that, Y/N?”

“Yeah, totally.” Your eyes shift from the barbells to dumbbells to equipment you’ve never seen in your entire life, still taking in the intensity and motivation that surrounds you. If Jungkook hadn’t called your machine of choice boring, you’d probably be back on the treadmill by now. “So what are the three exciting things you were talking about?”

“Well, this is one of them.” Jungkook slaps his hand down on an open bench. You and Jungkook must have two different definitions of “exciting things” because bench press isn’t one of them for you. A better word for bench press is “intimidating.”

The boy must see the fear in your eyes because he squats down beside the bench and motions for you to do the same on the other side. The room suddenly feels smaller and more intimate, like it’s just you and him. Once you’re directly across from him, he plants his left elbow into the bench and holds his hand out in competitive fashion. This gives you an excellent view of a newly discovered tattoo just above his tricep.

“We can start out slow by arm wrestling. That way, I’ll have an idea of your strength and how much you can lift,” he says, wiggling his fingers for you to clutch onto. The way he holds onto your hand is strong and comforting as opposed to the suffocating grips of the muscular folks deadlifting in your vicinity. Somehow, he makes you feel safe in a place where injuries are the norm. Moreover, you feel accepted where you couldn’t be more out of place.

“Okayreadygo!” You slur your words as fast as you can and start to push in an attempt to catch the boy off guard. Unfortunately for you, the combination of the sneak attack and your full strength is not enough to move Jungkook’s hand from the starting point.

“Are you even trying, Y/N?” he asks, even though he can very clearly feel the shakiness in your arm. Rather than pushing back and putting an end to your struggle, he lets out a small chuckle in response to your valiant effort. He’s the one who isn’t trying.

When all hope seems to be lost, you decide to reevaluate your situation. Maybe it’s time to play dirty.

“Is it cheating to use my other arm?” It couldn’t hurt to ask at this point.

“No, go ahead.” His offer feels as though it’s out of pity instead of kindness. Your theory is quickly proven to be true when his generous smile morphs into a mischievous one. “You can use all the help you can get.”

Your response to his taunt is more nefarious than using your other arm to make it a 2v1. Without warning, you slide a curious finger across the inked skin between his tricep and deltoid. You feel a few goosebumps sprout beneath your touch.

“Found a new one,” you say, eyeing the details in the thin strip of art that wraps around his upper arm. At first glance, it looks like a simple band with the same little skeleton dude dancing all the way around. But upon further review, you notice there are subtle differences with each of the skeleton’s poses. They vaguely resemble letters. “Does this say something?”

When Jungkook turns his attention to his arm, he’s focused more on your touch than the art beneath it. As you trace each of the tiny skeleton silhouettes, his eyes follow your finger like a cat locked onto its prey. His muscles are relaxed, meaning the ongoing arm wrestling match is probably the last thing on his mind right now.

Before he can answer, you summon all of your strength to push his vulnerable arm down, flat against the bench in one clean swoop. Who would’ve thought it’d be that easy to defeat Jeon Jungkook at arm wrestling? There’s a half second delay in Jungkook realizing what the heck just happened.

“Hey, that was dirty.” The boy tries to sound upset, but his body language says otherwise. He lends both hands to help you up out of the squat position and lays you down on the bench. You squint up at the gym ceiling, blinded by the lights. Like the moon during an eclipse, his handsome face looms over you, shielding your eyes from the harsh bright beams. “I actually believed you were interested in my tattoo.”

“I am,” you say softly, locking your eyes with his. You’re fairly certain he’s just pretending to sulk, but you also want to make sure he knows you’re genuinely intrigued by his body art. You’d hate to lose the one thing that seems to connect you to him. “I still want to know what it says.”

You feel the bench cushion dip right next to your head where Jungkook leans on his left arm and hovers his body over yours. His bicep is practically in your face.

“Go ahead and try,” he dares you. From your lying down position, you identify the letters of your favorite caffeinated beverage on the inner part of his arm.

“Latte?” You have a feeling those aren’t the only letters in the whole tattoo, but it does sound kind of cute.

“Try harder.” He frowns, making no effort to twist his arm and reveal more letters to you. He’s made it clear that he isn’t going to just hand you the answer—he wants you to work for it.

You snake your fingers around the forearm beside you and maneuver yourself up into a sitting position. Not only are you in the perfect position to crane your neck and decode the rest of the letters, but you’re also right at eye level with the boy. You should be studying his tattoo, but the lack of air between you and him is making it hard to breathe and even harder to focus.

“Y/N, I thought you said you were going to be on the treadmill,” Seokjin calls out from somewhere behind you, out of breath from those intense ab exercises. Jungkook takes a peek over your shoulder, and you do the same. Seokjin spots the boy next to you, opens his mouth to say something, but chooses not to address the fact that he basically predicted the future.

You turn your head back to Jungkook, but he’s already fled the scene. Together, you and Seokjin watch the other boy from afar as he grabs one of those long metal bars and two of the smallest weights from the rack.

“Was I interrupting something?” Seokjin leans over and whispers to you.

“Yeah, you saved me from having to bench press 200 pounds.”

“Really? Because it looked like he was ready to bench press you,” your roommate snickers.

“Shut. Up.” You shove his exhausted body but catch his arm when he stumbles.

“Fine, fine.” Seokjin lets out a massive yawn as he stretches his limbs out in all directions. He’d normally bicker with you some more, but you suppose exercising has depleted him of all his chaotic energy. “I’ll meet you at home then. I need to lie down for the next 24 hours.”

Your roommate abandons you before you have time to protest and secure a ride back home. On top of that, now you’re stuck with a boy who’s serious about getting you to bench press.

As Jungkook slides the weights onto the bar and sets up a safe station for you, he directs you on a few simple stretches and laughs when you manage to mess them up. You blame the fact that he’s giving you verbal explanations instead of a more hands-on tutorial.

“Hope I didn’t cause a misunderstanding with your friend,” he says. You can’t tell if Jungkook’s voice is softer or if it’s just the growing space between you and him.

You shake your head. “He was just saying dumb things out of exhaustion.”

“So he’s not your boyfriend?” Jungkook places the assembled barbell on the rack above the bench and motions for you to slide your body beneath it. It’s funny how the day started with Seokjin’s rumor about you dating Jungkook, and now Jungkook’s under the impression that you might be dating Seokjin. You wonder if that’s the reason for the sudden distance between you and him.

You shake your head again as you lie back down on the bench. “Seokjin’s my friend, roommate, and occasional arch nemesis, but I can confirm that he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Good,” Jungkook says, probably without giving any thought about the possible implications. You tilt your head, coaxing him to elaborate further. “I mean it’s good that it wasn’t your boyfriend who just walked in on you eyeing me like that.”

“I wasn’t eyeing you like that.” You almost hit your forehead on the bar as you sit up once more to defend your scandalous actions. He really had the audacity to call you out when you were under the impression that he was the one eyeing you like that. “I was merely admiring the art on your arm.”

“Whatever you say.” His voice is back to being smooth, playful, devilish. He scoots onto the end of the bench and nudges your leg with his elbow. You take that as an invitation to examine the rest of his tattoo.

Along with the already established L, A, T, T, E, you identify the rest of the letters one-by-one. “N, T, I, O, N, T, O, D, E, T, A, I? Lat tent ion to de tai…?”

Judging by Jungkook’s wheeze and the nonsense you just spewed, you can safely assume your guess was a little off. With another look, you move a single letter and it all becomes clear.

“Attention to detail.” Saying it aloud reminds you of a fellow tattoo artist who’s known for subtle details within a bigger picture. And now that you think about it, the art style indeed matches hers. “Is this from Amber?” you ask.

Jungkook looks at you as if you just told him you’re pregnant. “She isn’t really known outside of her tattoo work, so I’m surprised you know of her.”

“She’s a hidden gem.” You leave out the fact that you actually know Amber personally and that she’s probably the closest thing you have to a friend in the industry.

“Well if you like her art, I know a few other artists you should follow.” Jungkook feels around his sweatpants and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He lists a lot of impressive tattoo artists, some of which you hadn’t heard of but would love to know more about. It seems he and you share the same taste and enthusiasm when it comes to body art. Who would’ve thought?

And then he names one artist in particular.

“Have you heard of @snowsleeve?”

Uh oh. You nod.

“I think a tattoo from her would suit you,” he says, scanning your arms for the perfect spot for some ink. “Her signature style is classy yet bad.”

“Bad?” You didn’t realize your art was going to be roasted.

“The good kind of bad,” he clarifies. “Like baddie bad.”

You snicker to yourself because that’s the first time someone’s called your art “baddie bad.” But to Jungkook’s credit, he really nailed the essence of your style as a tattoo artist—tasteful with something dark and sensual behind it.

“You don’t want a tattoo from her?” you ask.

“I do, but she’s always booked with that Post Malone guy or something.” For the record, you’ve never done any work on Post Malone. “She did like one of my IG posts recently, though,” Jungkook casually throws in.

Fuck. He’s onto you. You were really starting to think your one little heart on that post had gone unnoticed. And yet, here he is, still thinking about it a week later. Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his attention to detail.

“She must be impressed by your body art.” While it’s true that you’ve adored every tattoo you’ve spotted so far on his skin, you also can’t deny that your initial physical attraction to him is what led to that impulsive double tap on his photo.

“My theory is that it was on accident.” He shrugs.

“That’s another possibility.” Your theory is that if you just keep nodding, you can get through this conversation without any funny business. Although, if you’re being honest with yourself, nothing about him or the attention he receives is an accident. “Anyway, what’s the third thing that’s supposedly more exciting than the treadmill at the gym? We already have arm wrestling and bench press. And to be honest, I’d much rather do whatever Activity #3 is than bench press.”

Jungkook smirks. “Oh really?”

“What is it?” you ask again. You aren’t sure if you’re bothered more by the lack of an answer or the mischief in his eyes.

“Never mind about it.” He fails to wipe that smirk off his face. You hope he realizes his amusement is only adding to your curiosity. “It’s a bad joke, and I apologize.”

“Well now I need to know. At least give me a hint.”

“Okay, okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jungkook holds his hands up in front of him like he’s expecting you to lash out at him. “It starts with S and ends with X.”

“I change my mind. Let’s bench press.” You take a deep breath and situate yourself beneath the barbell because sex at the gym was not on the itinerary for today.

“That’s savage, Y/N. I’m hurt.” Jungkook takes his spotter position behind you and the barbell. Despite what he says, he’s not hurt by your deadpan rejection at all. He actually seems a lot more focused on your safety than the fact that you opted for a dreaded workout over (presumably) mind-blowing sex with him.

You extend your arms up with just the tips of your fingers grazing the cold metal bar. Jungkook might’ve picked the smallest weights for you, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t still afraid of being crushed in the process.

“Grip the bar like this.” The boy demonstrates for you first before helping you place your hands properly on the bar. His warm touch is a reminder that you have someone watching over you. Someone who won’t let anything happen to you on his watch. “Okay, now try lifting it a tiny bit above the rack, just to ensure you can handle the weight.”

You give yourself a second and then do as you’re told. The barbell is lighter than expected, but you know it’ll become more difficult with each rep. You place the barbell back onto the rack and glance up at Jungkook’s upside-down face. Perhaps that was enough to satisfy the masculine urge to teach you the one thing he’s better than you at.

“So are we good for today?” You give him your best puppy dog eyes, although they might not have the same effect from an upside-down perspective.

“Do you want to at least try three reps?” Of course Jeon Jungkook isn’t going to let you off the hook that easily. He points out how you still haven’t let go of the bar and says, “You have a good grip.”

“Fine, but you’re responsible for dragging my body home if I’m too tired to move.”

“Deal.” He doesn’t even hesitate to seal your fate.

Without any more complaints, you do exactly three reps and then lie lifelessly on the bench as Jungkook puts the equipment away.

“C’mon, let’s go.” The boy shuffles around for the keys in his pocket while you still pretend to be sleeping. “Unless you’re planning on doing Activity #3 here after all.”

You blink your eyes open. Jungkook is already headed for the exit, so you hop to your feet and scurry behind him.

“By the way, I think we have two different definitions of exciting things to do at the gym,” you say once you’ve caught up to him.

“Is that your way of saying you hate the bench press?” You appreciate the boy’s ability to read between the lines without all the sugarcoating.

“Yeah, it’s not really my thing.” The two of you might have the same taste in art, but the same cannot be said when it comes to working out. “No offense, Jungkook.”

“Well excuse me for being a boring gym buddy.”

“You weren’t boring,” you assure him, even though he doesn’t really need a confidence boost. “I had fun, actually, and that had little to do with the workout.”

“Ah, I get it,” Jungkook nods with that smirk again. “People do say that life is better with me in it.”

“Who says that?” Just this once, you’ll humor his ego. And besides, he’s not wrong. Life isn’t so bad with him around.

“My 100,000 followers.” He watches for your reaction and is pleased with your eyeroll-smile hybrid. “I’m just kidding, Y/N.”

“That’s such an influencer thing to say,” you tease, knowing his distaste for the label. “Are you sure you aren’t an influencer?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He throws his tatted arm around your shoulder, double-checking your expression to make sure physical contact is okay with you. “Influencers can’t do things like this without worrying about dating rumors and bullshit like that.”

“Actually, there was a rumor about me and you going around today,” you say.

“Really? Who said that?” There’s more curiosity than concern in his voice.

“Seokjin came banging on my door this morning. Turns out he made it all up though.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“I did the mature thing and told him we’re getting married next week.”

“Haha, very funny.” Jungkook gives your shoulder a subtle squeeze. “For an introvert, you say a lot of weird shit sometimes, you know that?”

“Oh, speaking of weird shit, I thought of an actual gym activity that starts with an S and ends with an X.” You turn to Jungkook with playfulness in your eyes, prompting him to throw out a guess.

“Wait, what’s wrong with sex at the—”

“Shadowboxing.” You square up and do a few jabs in the air.

“Shadowboxing,” Jungkook repeats as he shakes his head with a big fat smile. “It takes a special individual to come up with that one.”

You’ll take that as a compliment.

“And just FYI, I prefer to shadowbox in a place with a little more privacy,” you say. Perhaps he knows you enough now to decode the weird shit that comes out of your mouth and read between the lines.

[orchid3a]

aria my baby my love my twin

sugar daddy! omi x sugar baby! lil sis hanagaki but !!!! she's a ballerina and is only a sugar baby to help her to save money to have a good career as a dance, but omi falls in love with her as soon as he sees her and he's so hypnotized by the way she dances :( ofc michi doesn't know anything about this or else he would faint in hina's arms 🥺

june you are the best mwah mwah <3

BALLERINA - A. TAKEOMI

pairing: Bonten!Akashi Takeomi x lil sis Hanagaki!reader (sugar baby au!)

tw: age gap (reader is 20+ while Takeomi is 39), sugar daddy - sugar baby dynamic, hurt to comfort, misunderstanding (they’re idiots in love your honor), smut, oral sex (f recieving), size kink, breeding kink, creampie, mention of ‘daddy’ and ‘mommy’

wc: 1922 words 

note: i wrote this with my whole ariussy, clit included!!! lil sis hanagaki has such a grip on my mind!!! smut might sound strange but bear with me i’m terrible at writing it lmao

no proofreading

english isn’t my native language

reblogs and comments are appreciated

MDNI 18+ CONTENT

Angelic.

That’s the only word that Takeomi can use when he describes you, yet he still doesn't believe that word can fully express how he sees you. 

Twirling on your toes, you continue to dance all immersed in your choreography, not caring at all how his eyes are glued on every movement. Your attention is solely focused on the background music. Moving along the music, you close your eyes and let your mind remember the choreography. Your body elegantly dances, showing off all your years spent practicing over and over to reach that level of perfection. Still you aimed to be the top star of your generation, you wanted to be the Prima ballerina assoluta since you were a little girl who just started attending ballet classes.

You are practicing for the upcoming auditions of your dance company, this time your main objective is obtaining the role of both the White Swan and of the Black Swan from Swan Lake. Obtaining even just one of them would be an important achievement in your career, but both? Obtaining both roles would show the world your talent and let it see who you are.

Too focused on your train of thoughts that you don’t notice the music stopping and Takeomi’s applause. You snap back to reality only when you hear him calling your name a few times.

“Omi? You said something? I’m so sorry, I was too focused on my thoughts”.

Your relationship with Akashi Takeomi is…particular to put it simply. He is your sugar daddy and you his sugar baby, you two met because both of you had a reason. He was alone and you needed money to continue your career. Unfortunately being a ballerina is very expensive, from the ballet-school fee to all the pairs of pointe shoes (that last up to a week) and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask your parents or your brother more money than they already spent on you. 

He chuckles, shaking his head, before patting your head and a small smile adorns his face.

“Pretty girl, you were breathtaking and I couldn’t stop looking at you for even a second. I’m so proud of you.”

Embarrassment rushes over your cheeks, you bite your lips avoiding his gaze, despite knowing him for a while, you still aren’t used to his compliments.

And that’s why you signed up to a sugar baby site and met him, you couldn’t be more happy, having him was like living in a fairytale. Takeomi or Omi as you call him, is a true gentleman. He always makes sure to put your needs before his, he always has some gentle words to share with you and he treats you as a real princess. But you know, deep down, that your feelings could never be reciprocated, he deserved more than a young naive girl who still believes in the knight-in-shining armor. He deserves the universe and more, and you know that you can’t give him that. Maybe it’s best if you don’t tell him about your feelings, faking this relationship isn’t healthy but it’s better than him leaving you.

Takeomi doesn’t believe in love anymore, after all these years he knows that he and love are two different things. However things changed when he met you, his pretty girl, the sun in his life. He clings to you, you are so warm and gentle with him, treating him more as a boyfriend than a simple black card. The times he found himself in your dorm cuddling with you while watching a sappy rom-com or him watching your rehearsals are precious memories he will always cherish. 

Sometimes he wishes he was a little younger or more handsome, the thought of you leaving for another man scares him, he knows that it’s an irrational fear, but he can’t scroll through these thoughts.

This fear paralyzes him and the main reason why he doesn’t want to confess his feelings, he prefers continuing this relationship even if you don’t reciprocate his feelings. It’s better than having nothing, right?

One day maybe you will tell him your feelings, even with the risk of him not reciprocating them and maybe you will be heartbroken, but now you prefer living this fake fantasy of you two together until your heart will be ready to accept the raw reality.

Takeomi’s kisses taste like nicotine. His big warm hands bring you closer to him until your chests collide, your smaller body pressed into his, your head is clouded in lust and love. You can’t stop kissing him, his slightly chapped lips feel so good pressed against your soft one and you don’t want to kiss any other lips.

Sadly he breaks the kiss and you pout, he chuckles before he gently makes you sit on his king-size bed. You see him kneeling at your legs, opening them slightly enough to let him be between them. 

You bite your lower lip when he hikes up your skirt and kisses your naked inner thigh, playfully biting it and you whine. Fuck, you could feel already wet just by that, and he didn’t even started anything. 

“Someone is getting excited” he chuckles as his fingers start tracing your folds, still covered by your panties, you shamelessly moan throwing your head back.

“O-Omi don’t be so mean” you whine pouting and he laughs softly, before removing your panties completely and discarding them behind him.

He smirks before he latches on your pussy like a starved dog, whenever he eats you out you don’t know how it will go. Will Omi be so damn slow that you will cry and beg him to speed up? Or will he eating you out so ferociously to make you scream and make the whole world know who is fucking you?

“Princess, put your pretty legs on my shoulders.”

His words make you mewl and slowly your legs find themselves seated on his broad shoulders, his face is so close to your pussy and you squeal when he blows playfully on it.

Today he seems to have a different plan, he is slurping and sucking on your glistering folds gently and lovingly, fat tears running over your cheeks while mewls and soft whimpers leave your plump lips. 

“Omi ‘s so good. Please make me cum.” Your soft pleas only fuels his need to see you coming undone by him. His tongue is lapping at your fold, while his hands grip at your hips keeping you in place, face buried until his nose is touching your puffy and throbbing clit.

Your hands are grabbing his hair trying to pull him even closer and finally he pays attention to your neglected clit, you feel his tongue twirling it and your eyes roll back.

“ ‘m cum-cumming Omi.” It’s all you can babble before your orgasm hits you, making you cum so hard that your thighs twitch and a string of mewls leave your soft lips.

He looks at you and he can almost cum by the sight upon him. Hair sprayed like a halo and eyes clouded with lust, you seemed more a nymph than a human being.

He needs to be inside you now, he needs to become one with you now or he will die with this regret.

Discharging his clothes and yours, he gets between your legs, putting your ankles on his shoulders and he slowly enters your pussy. This angle lets him touch you more deeply, making your eyes roll back from pleasure and moan his name loudly.

“Like that angel, go on and make a mess” He hisses and his hips thrusting roughly into your hole, skin slapping against each other.

His angry cock is bullying his way into your poor hole, and your walls accommodate it willingly, tightening their grip on it as if your pussy doesn’t want to let him out.

The pleasure is overwhelming, your head is feeling light and looking at his face your heart beats a little faster than before.

He is so beautiful and the scar over his right eye makes him more handsome in your eyes, how can he still be so handsome despite him hitting his mid-thirties? But you don’t care, because in your eyes he will be the only man capable of making your heart go crazy. His beautiful greenish orbs, now filled with lust, are showing the rawest side he has.

Those simple words make him stop, his brain trying to comprehend what you have just said.

Your heart feels so heavy with those feelings you are kepting inside, you can’t be silent anymore and with tears you finally speak.

“I lo-love you Omi! I lo-love you!” You can only babble, pleasure taking over your mind.

Seeing him silent makes you panic, but now the truth is revealed and you have to deal with the consequences.

“I…I love you Takeomi! And I know that I shouldn’t have those feelings for you, because you deserve better than a little girl who still believes in the perfect love story. You deserve someone that can’t be me” You tearfully said, ready to see him leaving you and never meet again. However, you feel his big hands cupping your damp cheeks and a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Pretty girl, who said that I don’t like little girls who believe in the perfect love story? In fact I love a certain pretty girl who dances like an angel and hypnotizes me with just a glance. Ya know, she is super cute, she has the cutest smile and an even more adorable giggle. She makes me feel special, she always has a warm hug for this lonely old man. Her name I think is…Hanagaki (y/n)” he concludes before kissing you again and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

You moan when you feel him thrusting his hips again, and he deepens the kiss. You two kiss until you both run out of air.

“Pretty will you let me cum inside? Will you let me make you a mommy? I want to see your belly swollen and tits full of milk. I want to see you with my children.”

Those words make you whimper nodding, you would let him make you a mommy, heck you would even marry him if he asks you!

He grins and starts moving even faster, making you scream his name over and over.

“ ‘Om ‘s too much! P-Please le’ me cum!” 

“Go on and cum baby, make me a daddy” 

One last thrust and you both cum, him inside you now his seed is well-secured in your womb.

Takeomi doesn’t slip out yet, he lays on his side and brings you closer to him, facing each other. You kiss him gently and peck his nose, giggling at his soft expression.

“Pretty I hope tomorrow you don’t have any appointments, we will need to find a pretty ring for your finger.”

You squeal and hug him giggling like a child, then you remember that you need to let Omi see your parents and your brother.

“Omi…I need to tell you something…Michi-nii maybe could pass out if he sees you. Not because of your looks, he is a little too overprotective of me but trust me he is a nice guy.”

He chuckles at your words “Don’t worry pretty, I already deal with Haruchiyo so I can deal with him too.”

You giggle and kiss him once again. 

“I love you Omi”

“I love you too, pretty”

And soon you both fell asleep, laced into each other’s warmth.

[here4kpopfics]

Cool Anymore | JJK (Teaser)

Planned Publish Date: 8/31/2022 @ 8AM PDT | 9/1/2022 @ 12:00AM KST

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut

AU: Established Relationship. Same couple as Hold My Hand and Through the Night. I am very in love with these two okay. 

Wordcount: 623 for the teaser | 6-7k maybe? Hopefully not more or I’ll lose my mind.

Summary: You’re begged to visit your boyfriend in the studio after he’s been avoiding you for weeks.

Warnings: Relationship issues. Mentions of anxiety. full smut warnings when I actually know what smut is actually included. 

Rating: M for the fic itself. Nothing really for this. 

AN: Basically using this as a deadline to make me actually finish this piece so I can focus on school. It’ll be my first real attempt at writing smut so please be gentle with me. 👉🏻👈🏻 Partially based off Jordan Davis and Julia Michaels - Cool Anymore as well as Julia Michaels - Issues. I love Julia Michaels if you weren’t aware.

I wasn’t intending on doing taglists, but if you’re 18+ or a moot and want to be added, let me know. Also let me know what you think, pls. It means a lot to be told if it sucks or not. 💜

Masterlist

The studio is a mess. Walls are lined with various keyboards and guitars on one wall and mics and a couch against the other wall. The entire room is littered with takeout and papers ripped from notebooks crumpled on the ground or on the various instruments. Namjoon is curled up at the end of the giant couch in the corner in the smallest ball he can possibly make, which isn’t very small considering he’s like a giraffe. He looks miserable. Yoongi is sitting at the desk with the mixers and all the recording equipment you couldn’t name if you tried. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days and his usual calm demeanor is slipping into that of someone who wants to strangle the man currently in the recording booth. That man being your boyfriend who has reached the point of anger where he is silent, jaw clenched, and just doing as he’s told because arguing with Yoongi was getting tiresome. 

Namjoon noticed you first, face lighting up like you were the sun. Letting out a “Thank fucking Christ” under his breath. He practically flew off the couch, dashing to Yoongi and pressing a button to be able to speak into the recording booth and announcing your arrival like it wasn’t planned in the slightest. “Heeey, Jungkookie. Look who came to visit!” He lets go of the button to gesture wildly at you, still only at the entrance of the room, scared to take a step forward. Jungkook looked up glaring daggers into Namjoon who was trying not to take offense and then looked to where he was gesturing. Jungkook’s frustrated eyes met yours and your soft smile. While Namjoon and Yoongi hoped it would make him happy, his facial response said otherwise. He looked terrified. Shaking his head and muttering a few “No”’s

“Why is she here?” His question echoes through the room as he speaks into the mic. His voice is laced with panic and fear as he removes the headphones. He scrambles around, grabbing some papers, and rushes out of the vocal booth. “She’s not supposed to be here. Yoongi said no visitors.” He rambled to no one as he continued grabbing the papers strewn about, holding them all close to his chest and refusing to look back at you. You’ve never seen Jungkook like this and you decide immediately you don’t like it. 

“We thought maybe we could use an outsider’s opinion on the song, it might help!” Namjoon…sweet sweet Namjoon, is just making it worse. Jungkook’s eyes widened even more than you thought possible, shaking his head back and forth. 

“No. Absolutely not. No. She can’t hear it. I don’t want her to hear it. No. She has to leave.” He growled out the last word, pointing at you while glaring at Namjoon. You stayed as silent as possible, letting your mind run at 100 miles per hour while the two men bickered and Yoongi sat there seemingly unbothered. 

He’s been avoiding you for over a week. He doesn’t let you in about his work life. He doesn’t let you in for anything. He doesn’t like talking to you about what’s stressing him out. He’s probably tired of listening to you cry about your issues. Tired of you always needing him when he’s clearly busy. But how could you have known when he doesn’t fucking tell you? And now he’s angry about you being here? He’s tired of you. He doesn’t want you here. He doesn’t want you. He doesn’t like you. He never loved you. You mean nothi-

Your thoughts are cut off by Yoongi suddenly letting out a yell in frustration. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him be this loud or this angry before. 

[midnight-talescape]

Game (707 x Reader)

Kinktober day 12: Toys

I didn't know I can work this fast, but 7 my beloved. Also by this point you can tell my brain is not functioning with the character, it's been too long since I indulge myself in fanfic, sadly.

Warning: toys, overstimulation, vanderwood almost walked in lol, this is 100 percent ooc, etc, etc you get the point not for kid

Genre: filthy filthy smut

｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡

You stretched your back as you closed the chatlog. Finally ready to start on 7's route after finishing all the other ending.

Who would have known the personality of a redheaded hacker, was gonna beat your bias to silver hair red eye character. After surfing online about how 7 loved you in every route, you decided to finish all the ending before finishing his ending acting it like a true ending.

What can you say, a jokester hiding his mass of trauma under a cheery mask was a sure way to your heart.

You quickly boot up a new saved file ready to finally finished the last route to your favorite character.

In the next few day you attune attentively to the game, waking up at 3am to catch up on all the chat log not missing a single one (seriously who put their chat at 3am, do the character not sleep?)

When you started knowing something weird happening in the game. At first it was weird chat option in message that you have never seen before (You would know, you replayed Jumin's route multiple time) Shaking it off as just some easter egg you continued the game and finally begin 7 route.

Everything seems normal at first, until you started seeing log that wasn't there before, phone call from 7 happen way more often.

You shake it off, thinking it was just the new update.

Until one day you woke up and noticed you are no longer in your room, instead you were tied to a bed with a mouth gag in your mouth.

Just as you was about to struggle, as confused as you were. You figured you might want to get out first. You heard a footstep walking toward you, you looked up to look at your kidnapper.

You blinked slowly as you try to comprehend who your seeing.

7 kneeled down to the bed and removed the mouth gag from you.

You poked out your tongue trying to take in more air, also it was just uncomfortable to have something in your mouth.

7 look at you and said cheerfully,

"Hello, (Y/N) your finally here, I have been been so excited to meet you,"

"What? Am I hallucinating?"

7 ruffled your hair,

"Of course not, I was just tired of seeing you from the screen so I decided to take matter into my own hand and bring you here."

You motioned to your tied up hand and leg with your face,

"So you kidnapped me and tied me to a bed with a mouth gag, like some sort of weird kinktober fantasy?"

"Yeah,"

You sigh, fully accepting your fate. After all this is either some really weird hallucinating dream from you waking up at 3am or you have finally gone to another world. Honestly by this point you dont really care.

"You know me a bit too well,"

7 shrugged with a knowing grin,

"What can I say I have been looking through your search history,"

You froze and then closed your eye defeated,

"Dear god, you know I will have to kill the witness, right,"

He hold a hand to his chest faking a gasp,

"Is that all it takes for you to hurt me?"

"Okay maybe not, can you please let me go,"

7 poked your cheek,

"Nope, I want you here (Y/N). I love you, I have been watching you for years, ever since you first downloaded the game. I have waited long enough, I want you,"

"Wait what about my family?"

7 clapped his hand together, looking real fucking proud of himself,

"It was a bit hard, even for a genius like me. But I have managed to combined the world in a few day we will be together forever."

Hearing his answer, you thought for a moment before saying,

"Okay, then I'm down. Are you gonna fuck me or not,"

"What?"

"7 my beloved, you just fucking kidnapped me out of my bed tied me up and put a mouth gag in my mouth. I dont know how to tell you this, but I just read a bunch of kinktober fic might as well act out a erotic fic, "

7 give you a crazed grin,

"Dear god, I really found the best and craziest person ever,'

"What can I say, we are similar in the worst way possible, there's a reason you're my favorite character,"

"You mean other then I'm hot and funny and smart and rich and..."

You rolled your eye as he go on and on,

"Yes, yes I get it, Mr. Lucky Number, you're the cutest."

With a grin he tilt down to kiss you, after a few minute he separate with a strand of saliva connecting you guys. He put his forehead on yours and begin to undress you.

Just as you guys were about to begin to get rid of years worth of love and touch deprived cause horniness, you guys froze when you heard someone knocking on the door.

"Motherf-"

7 quiet you down before yelling that he will open the door soon,

"Saeyoung, if your going to leave at least untie me,"

With a sadistic grin, and a bad feeling up your spine 7 turn around to get something,

"Wha-"

You was shut up when 7 retied the mouth gag around your mouth. You suddenly started shivering when you see him pull out a bunch of what you're assuming is sex toy.

You pulled on the bondage around your arm again, 7 gave you slapped on your breast, shutting you up with the stinging from your breast,

"Quiet, kitten. I can't have you all bored and lonely here can I? I will leave you with some fun,"

With that he quickly clipped a few clamp onto your nipple. He hold up a vibrator to show you, with a grin on his face. Seeing it, the realization that this is really happening you tried to back away. Pretty convinced that it's not gonna fit and that you are in fact not ready to get fucked.

"It's too late to back out now, kitten."

With that 7 quickly lubed it up, and slowly pushed it into your fold. Tear stained your eye, as you body tighten and tried to pushed the intruder out of your body. But all you successfully did was take it deeper into you.

Suddenly you arched your back when the knocking come again, and 7's hand slipped and pushed the entire thing inside you.

"Luciel open the fucking door!"

"Calm down, Mary i'm coming do you want to see me naked?"

Turning around he wiped away your tear,

"Good girl, just take in one more, hmmmm. Be a good girl for daddy," with that he pulled out a cat tail butt plug,

You look at him at wide eye,

'How many of these do you have?'

"I was quite excited to have you here, so I brought some toys," with that he moved your ass up before plugging it into you and laying you down again,

7 give you a kissed on your forehead before locking the door and walking out.

You slow your breath trying to relax your body against the many thing inside your body. Just as you was starting to get use to it, you suddenly arched your back up, when all the vibrator all started vibrating.

You pant and moan, saliva dripping down your chin. Tears streaming down your body as your body tried to get use to the vibrating. But every time you get use to it the frequency change causing you to orgasm again

If you could still think you would have probably swear the fucked out of 7, but you can't. Too sensitive and tied up to think.

When the door open again, you looked up with teary eye.

7 looked down at your flushed up body, damp with sweat and your juice. The cat tail now damped and hard under you. Your entire body trembling from your multiple orgasm.

He removed the mouth gag and with a shit eating grin said,

"Seems like you had fun when I was gone, kitty,"

"F-Fuck you..." you panted out,

"With pleasure,"

7 removed the vibrator out of you (After slipping a few time and causing you to swear) and pushed his hard member into your wet fold.

"F-fuck..." you swear as you felt your body taking in something far bigger the the vibrator,

"You feel so tight, kitten. I can't wait to fucking break you," with that he started to thrust into you

You hanged onto him desperately as you felt him going in and out of you. The cat tail sticking on you, wet from your juice and sweat. You let out wail as he pounded into you faster and he pulled on your clamp.

Just as your mind blurred and you were about to collapse you felt him gripped your waist tightly as he came inside you.

Panting slightly he pulled out, before covering your body with his blanket and cuddle you.

"T-take out the thing, you dick,"

"Nope staying in, Kitten"

"You-"

"Be quiet, love. Before I go another round,"

With that you quickly shut up and went to sleep.

[skylarsblue]

Could we get slashers (Brahms, RZ Myers, the Sinclair boys) with a chubby and short SO who’s self conscious the first time they start doing anything NSFW? Like some soft comfort with sweet touches and reassurance^ it doesn’t have to be sexual touches- maybe them kissing the readers stretch marks and lightly brushing on their stomach/ back/ ect whispering about how perfect they are! (Or it could be sexual! Up to you! Also no pressure to write this! Take your time :))

YOU WANT FLUFFY SMUT STUFF? BUDDY YOU'RE IN THE RIGHT PLACE! This is my specialty. I'm so down for this. This took me way too long, but honestly I might do a continuation with the other slashers at some point. Fluffy smut stuff is always nice to write.

(Content Warning; NSFW talk; not super explicit, mentions of insecurity, but I make it super soft.)

Michael Myers

Though RZ Myers is more emotionally inclined than the other Michael’s, that’s by like, 3%. He’s not able to understand his own emotions half the time, understanding yours is difficult. But, because you’re special to him, he tries. He actually makes an effort. Michael’s had insecurity before. More so as a child than now, but still, he’ll compare what you’re feeling to what he’s experienced, that makes it easier for him. He’s familiar with physical insecurity specifically.

If you don’t outright say that you’re insecure, he’s likely to miss the signs for a decent amount of time. But, if you make it clear, he’ll catch on a lot faster. And surprisingly, he’ll accommodate. As much as he can, anyway.

Michael’s not necessarily confident in a sexual sense either. He grew up around sexual content, porn, playboys, raunchy words, etc. But he’s never had the need/want to do those acts with someone else. The only exception is you! Sometimes he wishes he knew how to convey that. That you’re special, it’s not like he’s getting a hard-on for everyone who passes him on the street. No, he likes you. He likes the way you’re shaped, how you carry yourself, your personality. So when you’re insecure and he can’t just tell you that, it frustrates him.

If you seem to pull away or hide certain parts of yourself. That’s what he’ll focus on. Stretch marks, scars, freckles/moles, hip dips or any pudge at your stomach & thighs? That’s where he’ll trace. Michael’s especially into doing little nibbles, leaving hickies along skin. His favorite places are the insides of your thighs, at your hip bones, neck and shoulders.

The fact you have more weight on you changes nothing for him. In a lot of ways, it eases him. You look softer, but he knows that you can probably handle his rougher grabs & such a lot better than others. He’s not as hesitant to leave a hand shaped bruise on your hips. Not to mention how nice you are to lean into. When everything is said and done, and he’s exhausted in a way he’s never been before, he can’t help but rest against you. You’re warm, soft, perfect size to cuddle. He’ll deny he’s a softie but I think we all know he’s got a gooey center in that hard candy shell.

Michael nibbled along your soft jaw again, not biting as harshly as he did along your shoulders or the insides of your thighs, leaving makes no doubt. His hands were scarred & palms a bit dry, but not necessarily calloused. Despite the soreness from bruises now blossoming on your hips and thighs, his hold was gentler now. Like the caution he used on his paper masks. You sighed as he nuzzled his face into your neck. His thumb traced over marks like stripes on the tops of your thighs, making you twitch and slightly tug back. Michael huffed and nipped at your neck. “Ah! Hey…” You complained with a pout. He let out a low rumble from the back of his throat, squeezing your thigh for a moment. You sigh and rested against the pillow more. “Right…you like them. Still gotta remind myself of that.” He felt satisfied now that you remained still. He leaned into you more, feeling you pet his hair. “You’re real heavy you know.” You said, groaning when he dropped all his weight on you. “You jerk!” You wheezed a laugh, squealing as he hid his face into your chest. “Ugh, you’re lucky I like you, Mikey.” You sighed fondly, letting him continue to trace the marks that ran up your skin.

Lester Sinclair

Lester understand physical insecurity pretty well, but if he’s being honest, he’ll be utterly baffled by you being not being confident. He might even feel guilty, wondering if he just didn’t show his affection for you enough. Impossible, honestly. He’s a cuddly bitch.

If you explain it’s from things like bullying, societal standards, maybe even your parents? He’ll get frustrated at people he’s never even met. Wishing he’d found you sooner so he could’ve been there, set those people straight before you got those thoughts caught in your head.

Lester’s a sweetheart, really. He’ll do whatever he can to make it clear he thinks you’re perfect. Regardless of your size & height. Whether it’s proving you’re not to heavy by picking you up or just smothering you in affection. He’ll do it, no questions asked.

Admittedly, Lester’s a perv. If you think you won’t be subjected to his longing looks over your figure, because you’re on the heavier side? WRONG. You couldn’t get more incorrect. If you get shy over him staring at your ass, I promise it’s out of love. He’s happy with you regardless of size, he’s just happy someone loves him.

While Lester struggles to understand how you could see yourself as anything other than perfect. He does get being a bit uncomfortable with yourself from personal experience. He’s more comfortable with himself now because he’s just glad to be alive. But when he was in his teenage years, insecurity was heavy. So, he’ll do to you what he wishes others gave him. Compliments. Compliments. Compliments. Lester already praises you every chance he gets, but the moment you admit to wanting try to be intimate with him, he’s already going to be super sweet. He may be a perv sometimes but he’s a sweetheart, really. But since he knows you’re sensitive to how you look, the adoration doubles.

“Lester, I have to get up.” “I dunno what’cha mean.” Lester squeezed you tighter as you both sat in bed. He rested his chin on your shoulder. You chuckled and shook his head. “Lest, I need to shower! You do too, honestly. I’m all sticky!” You complained, still laughing. “Better be sticky like this than sticky with blood and guts.” Lester laughed, he laughed even harder when you made a face. “Grooosss, ugh. You’re nasty.” Lester shrugged as you poked his face. “For real though, we should probably shower.” You hummed softly. Lester rocked the both of you slightly as he thought. “How abouuuttt, a bath instead?” You smiled and hummed in thought, looking to the ceiling as if you were debating. “Oh, okay. I suppose.” Lester grinned and hugged you tightly. “A bath it is!” 

Bo Sinclair

Bold of you to assume he’s not into people with fuller figures. You cannot tell me Bo doesn’t love a little squish on his partner, because I will defend it to the death. He’s a bit vain, sure, but that’s more exclusive to himself. This man’s gonna stare at you. He scans your figure constantly, and he’s not ashamed when you catch him. He’ll make it more obvious then.

When in a relationship/trying to flirt with you, your figure is often part of his comments. They’re oddly enough, rather praising. Sometimes it’s a bit perverted but it’s never degrading. He’s an asshole a lot of the time but he can be a sweetheart when he wants to be. Even if he’s very clearly trying to get in your pants/skirt, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t mean what he says.

Bo’s favorite thing is when you wear clothes that cling to your body shape. This is probably where you come clean about your insecurity. He’ll ask why you keep picking at your clothing, saying you look fine so stop messing with it. When you tell him that you’re a bit shy about your weight/figure? He’s visibly taken aback. As if that concept never occurred to him. Now, he knows that insecurity is bad, he has a fair bit himself(though his isn’t physical based).

With knowing that, when you’re willing to allow him to do things with you, he’s oddly enough…softer. Now he’s still gonna be a teasing bastard. But he slips in less taunting in his praises, and he’s a bit more careful. This is both because he actually cares about your but also because he’s a bit nervous to do something that’ll trigger some insecurity. He doesn’t want you to hide when you’ve finally opened up to him. Bo knows exactly what it’s like to suddenly be stricken with anxiety and regret because you worry about judgement, or rejection when at your most vulnerable.

Bo snuffed out the cigarette as he exhaled smoke off to the side, away from you. He leaned up a bit on the pillows & headboard, you settled between his legs, hugging his torso with your head on his sternum. Forgoing the heavy blanket but covered by a thinner sheet. The comforter had ended up on the floor and neither of you were willing to grab it. Bo’s shoulders were lax and his face seemed at peace. He turned to look at you. He chuckled softly. “Ya lookin’ like I saved ya life or somethin’.” His accent was thicker now, it seemed to dip down when he exerted himself. You hummed and gave a lovesick smile. “You’re pretty.” You slurred. Bo blinked in surprise, cheeks going pink as he snorted. “Gee, doll. I really did fuck ya silly, you’re out here talkin’ nonsense.” Your nose scrunched up when he pinched it. You gently swatted his hand. “I mean it! You’re very pretty, real sweet too. And warm.” You laid on his chest again, exhaling in content. Bo rolled his eyes but his smile didn’t falter. Your eyes fluttered shut when he gently squeezed your shoulder, massaging the muscle with his thumb. He sighed, letting his head fall back, too relaxed to keep it upright. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes at well. Not falling asleep but enjoying the moment.

Vincent Sinclair

If anyone here knows physical insecurity, it’s Vincent. (Also Jason & Thomas, but anyway.) All his life he’s been plagued by the fact he’s literally missing half of his face. They weren’t spared the comments or weird looks when they wore their mask either. Either way he was a freak, though they seem to find beauty in every figure except their own.

The fact Vincent’s an artist will aide in how hw describes you. You’re always viewed like an art piece. Vincent craves novelty, things that separate individuals. Any insecurity you may have will just be another reason they adore you. From stretch makes to rolls. Like his twin, he also likes a fuller figure. Not for the same reasons however. Vincent’s main reason is how therapeutic they are to draw/sculpt. Smooth lines & softness seem so appealing when used to sharp edges & harshness.

When he learns you’re insecure? They understand completely. Though, it does upset them to a degree, mostly the fact that he could never convey how he views you. Not truly. No matter how many times he draws you, he’ll often feel he didn’t capture you properly, even if you praise the sketches. Saying they improved your looks will upset them more, his art pales in comparison to you by a great degree, that’s how he feels.

He’s hesitant with sexual encounters for the same reason. But, in a way, it’s that mutual feeling that makes it sweeter. He understands you to a degree others won’t, and vise versa. They won’t complain if you ask to keep on some of your clothing, they’d prefer to keep on your mask. But, if you make an effort to overcome your fears, just for him? He’ll do his absolute best to mirror you. Whatever you’re comfortable with, he’ll do his best to make it equal, to show that they see your effort & the feeling is mutual.

Panting was slowing down into more even breaths as the air seemed to grow colder. Vincent’s mask laid nearby on the nightstand, not far from ridden clothing on the floor. Said man hid their face in your neck. The vulnerability was shared but still a bit nerve wracking. As you came back to earth, you turned your head a bit, raising a hand to pet his long hair. It was soft, he’d washed it recently. “Vincent?…” Their shoulders eased at the sound of your voice, just as they always did. “If you could, could I see you again? If not, that’s okay, I won’t mind.” You whispered. Vincent swallowed audibly. You waited for his next move until they pushed themselves up again, raising their weight from your figure. His hair fell over his shoulders and framed his deformed face. They still seemed tense. Afraid of rejection, making empathy bubble in your blood. Carefully, you rose your hands, placing them both on either side of his face, holding both sides with the same amount of delicacy & adoration. Your gentle smile made Vincent’s throat clench. “You’re beautiful.” You whispered. He sighed. You caught the slight tremble in his lip and the strain in his breathing, trying to keep it smooth. You leaned up and kissed him carefully, making them melt like hot wax, ironically. You pecked the bridge of their nose after pulling away. Vincent’s eye fluttered nearly shut under the affection, feeling warm. You felt him trace the stretched marks on your sides in return. Equally shared & equally accepted.

Brahms Heelshire

Once again, Brahms knows exactly what physical insecurity is like, he’s filled with it. Technically, this man has about every form of insecurity under the sun, most of which stems from his parents treatment. But somehow, he can’t fathom the fact that you aren’t happy with yourself. Even if you explain it, Brahms is beside himself! How can you view yourself as anything less than ethereally perfect?

Your curves themselves are some of Brahms’ favorite parts of you. Yes, because he’s a pervert, but that’s not the only reason. Brahms appreciates the softness, the squish. Whether it’s because he’s laying on you or because he’s squeezing your thighs/chest/ass/etc. He’ll show you extra physical affection when you’re wearing tighter clothing. His reasons may be a bit…suspicious, but he means well!

Brahms knows classical art very well, he’ll refer to these examples to try and convince you to be more comfortable with yourself. “Aphrodite was often described as full figured!” “Lots of classical artists loved to paint curves.” He might even wax Sappho-poetic if it means you’ll see yourself more kindly. He’s quiet & often talks to you in a simple vocabulary, but when feeling more lucid & grown, he has a vast vocabulary. He tends to keep it stuck to pages, but he’ll gladly preach his delicate sentences to soothe you.

When it comes to sex in general, Brahms couldn’t give a single fuck about your figure, stretch marks, scars, etc. That’s not the point! The point of sex is, one, affection. A lot of affection all at once. Two, pleasure, because we all know he’s not afraid to admit when he likes something. And three, a display of loyalty. Showing vulnerability in order to come together(pun intended) and adore each other. He could care less if your thighs jiggle with his trusts or if your tummy has rolls when you rest on top of him. Either way, it’s you, that’s what he cares about.

Brahms’ mask was cold against the skin of your shoulder blade. He held you tightly to his chest, having caught you before you could head off to the bathroom, leaving you sat on the edge of the bed. Brahms was often quiet, he didn’t talk much, but there were some moments where words poured like the rain outside. Now was one of those times. Having felt you flinch away slightly when he wrapped his arms around your thick stomach. “Softness is desirable, it’s gentle & welcoming. It feels kind. It suits you. Don’t be so harsh on yourself when your body resembles everything delicate & loving.” He mumbled, voice a bit breathy, having yet to put his child-voice back on. You bit your lower lip as the space around your eyes & cheeks grew warm, a straining feeling in your throat. “Brahms…” your voice was a bit shaky. Brahms shook his head and squeezed you a bit tighter. “I’ve grown tired of sharp edges & the burning sting of everything. I like you better. You’re welcoming, approachable, accepting. If you can accept & love everything I’ve done, please let me do the same for you.” He rested his chin on your shoulder. You sniffled and blinked a few times, leaning back into him, hoping to keep the water in your eyes off your face. Resting your hands over his forearms, tracing some scars that had been caught on his left hand. “Thank you, love.” You whispered back. Brahms let you hold his hand & he squeezed it back. He was warm. Better than the harsh cold of the mansion air. “It’s only fair…” he mumbled, lifting his mask just enough to expose his mouth, kissing a bruise he’d left on your neck.

[huihuiheart]

Under the Stars - Do Hanse

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Victon Masterlist

Pairing:  Camboy! Hanse x Cam! Afab Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Summary: Everyone has certain needs, but in his world of money and lust Hanse surely didn’t need love. Or so he was convinced until he paired up with you.

Warnings: Camboy/camgirl themes, masturbation, Hanse is a little bit mean (in only the best of ways I have problems okay), some teasing sexual and verbal, some manhandling, dom/sub themes, oral (fem receiving), rough sex, fingering, protected sex, some cum play (cum eating), dirty talk, degradation, cursing, sex toys, overstimulation, crying, a little pain, squirting, praise, dirty talk, use of the terms doll and sweetheart, drooling.

Word Count: 5395

Hanse’s brow was raised, continuing to silently sip on his glass of whiskey as he listened to Sejun speak as both a friend and manager. He’d been listening to the man rattle off this plan for the past half hour at this point and frankly he was running out of ways to rephrase his suggestion. It almost pained Hanse to watch at this point...almost, but then again if he was going to suggest what he did Hanse was gonna let him suffer just a little for it. Eventually however, enough was enough, Hanse sighs and puts the glass down.

“You know I like to work alone, Sejun, so why are you asking?” Hanse asks, arms crossing over his chest as he watches nonchalantly as Sejun huffs, arms dropping dramatically to his sides.

“Please Hanse, she needs to catch a break. She’s good, she’s just stuck in the early phase. The one where its only the same old creeps every time. Just help her build a bit of a rep that’s all I ask. She could really use it.” Sejun practically begs and while it wasn’t really Hanse’s thing he couldn’t really say no to his friend like this.

“Send me her profile. I’m not agreeing to anything, but I’ll take a look at her at least.” Hanse concedes at least that much, getting his friend to back off slightly for the time being, “Why are you so invested in her though?”

“She’s my newest client!” Sejun beams, “Well I guess I should say she’s my second client considering before it was just you.”

“What? Did I not pay well enough? Cause if that’s the real issue I can fix that.” Hanse offers still somewhat looking for a way out, to no avail.

“No. No, nothing like that. I just wanted to start branching out some and she seemed like the perfect person. Like I said though she needs help getting out there. Come on Hanse, consider it a favor to me.” Sejun’s comments make Hanse roll his eyes, mumbling something about how he never should have hired his friend.

“Hey I said I’d look at her profile or whatever. Get off my ass and I’ll think about it. I’m not making any promises though.” Hanse tries to wave him off again, but with Sejun it seems as though that’s rather pointless as he thanks the man as if he’d already fully agreed to any and everything. 

Still Hanse had agreed to take a look at your profile and so he would. At the very least he might be able to lend you some advice through his friend and perhaps be enough to end Sejun’s begging even if he didn’t quite agree. Sejun had sent the link, all he had to do now was click around the familiar website to take in all the various aspects of your profile while savoring his whiskey as he did any night off...and a few on.

He had to hand it to you, for someone so new your profile was very well put together. Though perhaps Sejun had helped you with that as well. Between saying and showing just enough to tease to interacting with the right amount, and even scheduling things when you should expect a decent amount of traction your profile looked good. Which did peak the man’s curiosity...why weren’t you getting more attention? Scrolling through posts he weeded through pictures of lingerie, toys, aesthetic images, and even kinky texts to find an image of your body. Sucking a breath in through his teeth as he brought his glass up again, throat suddenly running dry. You were gorgeous, breathtaking even, so there was no reason in hell or on earth itself you shouldn’t be drowning in followers or even notice. Yet, he hadn’t heard or seen you anywhere. Which only left him one last thing to check, a stream. He pulled up a recording of a past stream of yours to see if perhaps there was something about being on camera that you couldn’t nail down, only to find nothing yet again. Falling back in his chair with a huff, noticing that he had started to grow hard even. Something that he often had much more control over by this point, that fact speaking volumes about you. He was stumped though, not knowing what advice to give his friend. Hanse pulls his phone out with a sigh knowing he might just regret this, but pulls up his friend’s name anyway to send him a text.

Hanse: Go ahead and send her my profile. Shoot the idea by her. If she’s down then we’ll MEET. This whole thing is going to be on my terms though and my terms only.

Sejun: Of course! I already talked to her about connecting her to someone though, she seems down, but I’ll send your profile her way.

Hanse shakes his head deciding to go distract himself from the possible regrettable decision he just made before he could overthink it too much. Meanwhile you were getting a late night email from Sejun, your newest helper and manager. Noticing how he talks up his friend and client Hanse, including his profile and the potential to work together soon even. Sure you had been onboard with Sejun’s suggestion, trusting him completely on that. Yet now you suddenly felt nervous over the fact there was a potential option for that. Still, you decided to open the link and take a look for yourself.

Your first thought is shock, more in the sense that his presence seems to be the polar opposite of yours. Not that that necessarily means anything, being on cam is about putting on a show whether it’s truly you or not. Still the man was breathtaking and looked like trouble compared to your more sweet, innocent image. When Sejun had suggested it you expected another person with a soft image, not that you were complaining by any means. No, in fact, maybe you should thank him for this. Perhaps mixing some trouble in was exactly what you needed. At the very least it could get you some attention. Though this man’s screaming presence of danger was doing anything but scare you off, only enticing you more. 

Y/N: Sejun, set up the meeting. You have my schedule and all. Just don’t let me meet me alone in a back alley or something creepy. Cause I might actually agree to do some questionable shit in the presence of that man.

Sejun: I told you! See I know what you like better than you even do! You can trust me though, I wouldn’t suggest him if I thought you’d be in any real danger. Though I will warn, he might be a little...mean.

Y/N: Mean can be hot... if it’s in the right way. Either way I’ll meet with him and if it’s not something I can handle then we’ll call it off. I trust you though. 😊

You hadn’t lied to Sejun about your trust in him. Still, the way butterflies were going every which way in your gut right now over just the thoughts of what this man might be like had you nervous. As if you were fawning over your first high school crush and scared to lose your virginity to him or something, utterly ridiculous kind of nervous. Especially for a camgirl. This was a business meeting goddamn it, between two working and professional adults. Very attractive adults mind you, but that shouldn’t be enough to have you restless through the night. Logical reasoning didn’t seem to win out this time though and so your eyes drifted over to your bedside table, pulling out a vibrator and finding the perfect video off that profile to pair with it. Even if you and him didn’t enter a business relationship, you were quite thoroughly fucked, this man would be your new addiction. Especially if you slept this well after getting off to his videos was more than just a one time thing.

Sejun wasted no time in coordinating arrangements between you two, making a group chat to send out date, time, and location. Letting you both finally get each other’s name. Though your heart stopped for a moment when Hanse got adamant in the group chat that he would meet you alone without Sejun’s pushy personality there to be any sort of outside influence. Instead that you’d both fill him in once you had met and talked one on one. You still trusted that Sejun wouldn’t put you in danger and that if anything did happen he would come running at the simplest of texts, but that didn’t mean you weren’t anxious over the thought of meeting Hanse like this. 

Stepping into the hotel you and Hanse were planning to meet in you knew there was no going back now. Picking up your key from the front desk and making your way up to the room, opening it to silence and so you had to will your voice into working and speak up. Not that it entirely kept the nervous tremble out of it. 

“Hello? Hanse, are you here?” You question as you shut the door behind you and glance around as you start to step in.

“I am. Just getting comfortable. Don’t be shy.” Hanse calls from deep inside the room, giving you a direction to go towards only to stop in your tracks when you actually see him. 

Hanse was lounging back on the couch in the room, letting the setting sun cast in through the window and over his bare skin. Chest and legs bare and tattoos on display with simply a blanket haphazardly thrown over his lap. A glass of whiskey in hand as he raises a brow at your stunned form, snickering around the rim of the glass as he brings it up for another sip before holding it up in gesture.

“Would you like a glass? You seem... tense.” He offers picking up on your body language rather easily and trying to ease you into this setting. Even if he wasn’t necessarily all that interested in having anything to do with you he had no intentions of being cruel. 

“Slightly... more so stunned than otherwise. A glass might help though, you’re right.” You agree with a small nod, watching as the man languidly begins to move again. Gasping softly, yet not enough to go unheard it seemed, when he stands and the blanket falls to show that he had nothing on at all.

“Stunned? And why is that?” The shit eating grin on Hanse’s face showed he wasn’t entirely clueless to the reason why, but his ego wanted to hear you say it. Watching closely as he poured you a glass wondering if he was going to scare you away like this.

“I didn’t quite expect you to be so...forward.” You admit, feeling as if your skin was burning as you reached out to take the glass from him. As hot as you felt in this moment however, you weren’t going anywhere, not until you saw this through. 

“I assumed you did your research and so there would be no reason to hide anything. So why not be fully comfortable?” Hanse shrugs as he takes his seat again, not bothering to put the blanket back over himself this time however, “Besides, I’m a very blunt, forward person. Is that going to be a problem?”

You shake your head, taking a gulp of the whiskey and letting it burn down your throat and hopefully kick in as you will yourself to go sit on the couch along with him, just at a bit of a distance still.

“It’s not. Blunt can be good, you know where you stand. I like that. Besides I had no idea at all what to expect, so I probably would have been shocked no matter what.” You out yourself slightly, causing Hanse to chuckle. He had to admit though you were handling all of this better than he expected.

“Well I had some time to settle and get comfortable. I’ll let you have the same. You tell me when you’re ready and then we’ll talk business.” He extends the courtesy to you, watching as you remove your jacket and shoes, moving to somewhat mirror his stance and lay back a little bit.

“I’m fine, we can go ahead and talk now.” You assure him, hearing how he hums the glass and finding that even that is attractive. Even if now is not the time to be getting turned on, not that he was helping that with his appearance currently. You were proud of how well you had done focusing on his face however.

“So I know what Sejun had said, but the reason I wanted to get you alone was to ask you what you’re really expecting from this if we were to work together? Don’t bullshit me either, I’ll know.” Hanse watches you closely as you sip the drink before leaning your head against the back of the couch.

“Because I’m tired of seemingly wasting my time. I’m not miserable camming, but like doing anything long enough without really being appreciated takes a toll. Especially when the whole point it to be noticed.” You respond with a shrug, “I’m not a quitter don’t get me wrong, but it was starting to get to me. So if I’m going to keep doing this then I need to do it right. That’s what I want to get from this. Maybe neither of us ever shows in the other’s videos, but if you can just help me with advice or anything so I know I’m actually doing this shit right...then that’s what I want.” 

“You’re not just here to make money getting your back blown?” He can’t help but to tease watching you almost choke in shock at his question, despite picking up on how genuine you seemed to be, “Seriously though, advice or assistance I can do easily. Perhaps even a collaboration, I’d just like to make sure you and I are on the same page though.”

“Of course. I’m fine with that too. I just know that just because someone shows it all off on the internet doesn’t mean they wanna fuck someone they don’t really know.” You take a turn at speaking bluntly now causing Hanse to raise a brow before setting down his glass as he finishes his drink.

“I mean I’m a rather sexual person and I figured I wasn’t the only one with needs so why not make some money off it. After all... I’m not exactly shy.” He snickers holding his hand out to take your glass as well when he notices you’re finished.

“Don’t we all. I do wonder though...and if this is too personal feel free to pass up an answer, I just don’t know anyone else who cams to ask. Does it ever get lonely? I mean I’ve been single a long time and this covers those needs, but I can’t image its an easy thing for someone to accept when you start dating them.” Your question catches Hanse off guard for a moment, looking over you for a moment as if to gauge if you had hidden reasons for asking. 

When he doesn’t pick up on anything he decides to humor you with an answer after the honesty you’ve given him so far, “No. Well not to me anyways. I’m not for all that mushy, gushy, love shit. I gave it a try and learned that it’s a lie. A way for people to manipulate and take advantage of each other and I refuse to be naïve enough to believe in it anymore. I find other ways to care for my needs and between that and having friends my life is complete.” 

Hanse sighs, noticing your stunned expression again, the way you blink over at him wide eyed in response. Your face falls slightly, almost becoming a puppy dog face and he shakes his head slightly not waiting for you to speak up again before he does.

“Don’t tell me you believe in that fairytale love story shit. Why would you need any of that crap?” Hanse crosses his arms watching your expression fall further, almost feeling perhaps he had been a little too harsh with his words when it seems as if you might cry.

“I mean I don’t need it. I don’t have it now and I’m living life just fine and happy... that doesn’t stop me from wanting it though. If that’s not for you then fine, live like that. It’s not for me though.” You speak softly, enough so that Hanse realizes he did overstep slightly, but not enough to make you cry. 

“Fair enough.” He backs down, not sure why he cares if your feelings were to be hurt by his view, but finding that he does, “Would you like to talk about anything else? Or should I go ahead and update Sejun? I’ll show you the email before I send it so you can confirm.” 

“That’s fine. If we think of anything else we can shoot a text or meet up again.” You agree, Hanse picking up on how you still seem to shrink back some now that you’ve grown quiet in response yet letting it be. Who was he to care anyways? He didn’t know you that well. Besides, it was probably just a physical response to finding you attractive and not his problem.  

Hanse drafting up an email to Sejun outlining what the two of you had briefly talked about in terms of an agreement, handing you the laptop after to allow you to look over it and make adjustments as you saw fit before he sent it off. Allowing a moment of silence to settle for a moment before deciding to take a chance, wanting to test something out and see if that was just a physical response.

“You know... the room is booked for the whole night so we might as well make use of it don’t you think?” Hanse’s inquiry makes you pause, staring at him for a moment to see if maybe you were understanding incorrectly or not.

“And just what are you implying Hanse?” You raise a brow at him causing him to lean into your space with a deep chuckle.

“What do you think? After all, I said I was a sexual person. Plus we both agreed we’re not opposed to working together like that and we’re attractive, so why not consider this a chance for a test run?” Hanse plops down on the edge of the bed now, leaning back onto his palms as he watches your reaction. 

Your actions contradicting as you shake your head, but move close to him, “I can’t believe I’m about to agree to this when you just fucking insulted me the way you did.” 

“What? You want me to make it up to you now?” He can’t help but be smug as he looks up at you when you step between his legs, “Give me ten minutes and I bet you won’t even remember your name, let alone anything you’d have to be mad at me over.” 

“Oh is that so? And what if I said I don’t believe you? You might know how to cam, but that doesn’t mean you know how to fuck. Who says you even know your way around a woman?” You seem to strike a nerve, which may have slightly been the point so as to get him back a little bit for his earlier attack towards you. 

Hanse growls under his breath, though whether it was a remark towards you or simply a sound of irritation you couldn’t decipher as he instantly reaches to pull your top off. Fully intending to follow through on the light hearted promise he made more just messing around, but now a matter of pride due to your challenge. Your pants are quick to follow, it crosses your mind for a fraction of a second that perhaps Hanse had some intention of this all along seeing as how he had been naked from the start. Not that the man in question leaves you anytime to ponder over that. Hanse stands while his hands grip at your hips, quickly swapping your positions so that you’re on the bed with him standing now. Shoving you back onto the bed a tad harsh, a bit from irritation as his pride acts up, but also due to knowing that as you fall back no harm will come with the bed behind you.

Hanse’s hands moving down from your hips to your legs, fingertips just barely grazing over the flesh before firmly gripping your knees. He spreads your legs, eyes focusing in on your clothed cunt. Getting down on his knees he leans in closer, hands pressing up your inner thighs and spreading you out as much as he could, not wanting to leave you any room to move away as he places a kiss to your panties. Pressing his tongue flat against your entrance letting it sit there as saliva pools and mixes with your arousal to form a wet patch rather quickly. Hanse moves to slowly drag his tongue up then only stopping again once he gets to your clit, letting the fabric grow damp before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking, the sensation overwhelming you for a minute. You’re suddenly very grateful that he had taken a second before doing that as even the wet fabric rubbed against your clit slightly rough. Not that you thought you should expect anything different from the little you did know about Hanse. His tongue pressing against the bud while it’s still trapped in his mouth, putting more pressure before swirling around it for a minute. Pulling away with a pop as he looks up at you moving one hand away from your thigh and holding it out to you.

“Give me your hand.” He requests leaning his head against your thigh as he waits for you to listen. You raise a brow not sure what he was wanted, but reaching out anyways letting him guide your hand between your legs, having you pull your panties aside. “Stay just like that. Out of my way.” 

Without waiting another second his mouth is on you again, tongue teasing your entrance before curling in as he watches your reactions. He presses closer with each movement, his nose brushing against your clit and when it makes you cry out, fingers tightening around your panties to not reach out and tug at your hair he grins against you. Deciding that while he was planning on breaking you down as quickly as possible he could tease just a hair when he noticed what you liked, making sure you knew just how good he could treat you. Pressing into you a little firmer before shaking his head and moaning against you when you tense up as a result. 

“Cum on my tongue sweetheart, you know you want to. Don’t worry, I won’t stop not until you’re shaking.” Hanse’s voice is almost gentle in comparison to his actions as he mumbles them against your core, the vibrations from each word spoken deeply causing a sharp spike of pleasure to shoot up your spine. Arching for him in effect, free hand reaching up by your head to grip at the sheets as your moans increase in volume.  

Part of you hated giving in so easily to him, but you were so ill-prepared for how good he’d actually be that you were helpless to the pleasure he drowned you in now. Hanse knew just how to pull the string tight and make it snap so quickly it seemed as if he didn’t even have to try. Pulling back once you cum, just enough to stand though. He pushes away the hand gripping your panties replacing it with his and forcefully pulling them down your legs before taking his place between them again. His grin shit eating as he looks down into your glazed over eyes.

“Look at how pliant you are for me. Talking all this shit just to be a good girl the second someone touches your slutty little cunt, huh?” He toys with you licking over his middle two fingers before slipping them down and into your cunt with one smooth motion. When he curls them just right to make you arch again, withering in sensitivity his other hand slips under your back to unclasp your bra. “And you thought I wouldn’t know how to treat a woman. Are you eating your words now baby?” 

“F-Fuck you Hanse!” You grit out between clenched teeth, he knows it’s not from anger however, but instead you trying to hold back your sounds.

“Oh you will sweetheart, when I feel like it though.” Hanse chuckles, fingers pulling out and teasingly pinching at your clit before he walks away to go get a condom from the bedside table, tossing a wand vibrator besides you as well making you gasp.

“You fucker! You fucking planned this didn’t you?” Your tone is breathy, eyes widening at him in disbelief as he simply shrugs, rolling the condom on.

“I wouldn’t say planned, but I wanted to be hopefully prepared in case it were to.” He admits, thumb moving to rub your clit and line himself up. He hesitates, however, due to the way his heart stutters looking into your eyes when they glaze over with lust and pleasure again. Not sure why his chest suddenly felt tighter than his pants would have in this situation, yet he almost felt panicked at the thought of looking into your eyes right now. So he wouldn’t, playing it off instead as he flips you over onto your stomach, feet hitting the floor as you bend over the edge of the bed.

He teases his tip through your folds as he leans over you, reaching for the vibrator he had tossed besides you earlier, clicking it on and placing it into your hand before guiding that to your clit as he slowly pushes in inch by delicious fucking inch, “I’m going to fucking break you doll. Fuck you so good you’ll be begging me to do shows with you ever night from now on.”

You were already falling apart beneath him before he even moved, Hanse’s free hand gripping at your hair and pressing your face further into the sheets when you moan out so loud that they might be hearing from the hotel for noise. Not that he cared much, but perhaps you had dignity to spare. The thought making him question his motives yet again, after all, why the fuck did he care?

“Please.” Your choked out sob caught his attention, leaning down to catch a glimpse of the tears glittering in your eyes and he swore he almost busted right then despite the amount of control he’d built over the last few years.

“This doesn’t work like that doll. You gotta speak up, tell me what you want sweetheart. Be good enough and maybe, just maybe, I’ll be nice and actually give it to you before I get what I want.” He mocked as if you didn’t both want the same thing in this moment.

“Please move Hanse. Fuck! Please, I’m begging. I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t barely walk out this room. Fuck me so well my body commits it to memory.” Your tone of voice along with the way your hips wiggle just slightly convinces him enough, and while typically he’d be the type to punish someone for this you were being too good right now for him to care. No, he’d have all the time to mold you into his perfect little submissive on camera later. For now this was enough for him.  

His hips started moving quick and hard, drilling your hips into the bed with each thrust. Hitting deep enough that just the slightly twinge of pain sounded in through the ringing pleasure, something you found yourself loving though. Each roll of his hips making your free hand claw at the sheets as you felt a high rush towards you quicker than you thought was possible to stop even if everything else did in this moment. Hanse noticed too, feeling you getting impossibly tighter around him.

“Let go doll, but don’t move the toy away. You’re going to give me one more before we’re done, like the good girl you are for me now.” His tone softens with you, seeing the way you seem to shatter beneath him, leaning down to kiss your temple, something he never did. The action seemed to be what set you right off though, Hanse praising you through it, “There you go. You’re so perfect when you cum on my cock for me. Give me one more doll.”

Hanse reaches down to slip his fingers between yours when he notices you clawing at the sheet again, gripping onto your hand tightly while his face stays close to yours watching how you’re drooling now. His free hand sliding over yours on the vibrator again, noticing how it trembles along with your thighs and wanting to make sure you’re soaking up every ounce of possible pleasure right to the very end.

“Come on sweetheart, cum for me again. I’m about to cum too, but you first.” He watches you nod blindly, cumming around him with a gush of wetness squirting around his cock and he pulls out leaving the vibrator there until he’s drained every drop from you. He’s quick to toss it away so as not to hurt you, not knowing your limits quite yet. His condom goes next, pumping his cock a few times before he’s cumming hot ribbons across your back and ass making you twitch at the sudden feeling.

Hanse shudders at the sight before pulling it together again, well mostly. He can’t help but lean down though, tongue licking over your form and scooping up his cum. He gently cradles your neck, guiding you into a kiss in your dazed state, kissing you deeply to share his cum with you. Feeling pride swell in his chest for some reason when you swallow.

“There’s a good girl. Stay here and take deep breaths. I’ll be right back.” Hanse assures you taking note of your whiny nature and going to get a warm washcloth along with a water bottle. Coming back to look over you, while he wasn’t emotional he wasn’t heartless especially not with someone who submitted to him. Taking note of how it seemed you had subbed out a bit at this point and using cleaning you with a few scattered kisses as a way of assessing how far you had dropped and helping start to ease you back.

Hanse wraps a good blanket around you before carrying you to the couch, giving you the water and bringing the snack box from the other side of the room so you could get what you wanted while he changed most the ruined sheets with the spares he had requested due to “getting cold”, as if it wasn’t going to be obvious what you both were up to. Carrying you back to bed and tucking you in before getting under the covers with you, watching you snuggle into his side and blinking owlishly.

“Hey...you with me?” Hanse questions softly, running his fingers through your hair and gently working out some knots from earlier. “What’s your name sweetheart?”

You take a moment to respond before humming softly, “Y/N.”

“Good job, and do you know where you are right now?” He pushed a little further, not wanting you to sleep until he was sure how you were doing.

“Yeah... hotel with you, getting the best dick of my life.” You mumble against his side causing him to chuckle as his grin returns.

“Perfect. Get some sleep now, you did amazing doll.” He watches as you almost immediately pass out realizing that didn’t give him any of the answers he was hoping for. In fact, if anything he seemed to have even more questions now.

One thing seemed for certain however, if he stuck around you he would be well and truly fucked. If you were going to fuck him up though...then he sure as hell would return the favor.

To be continued....

[prolix-yuy]

Chapter 6: But She Was

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x F!Reader "Sugar"

Summary: He's so much more than only a host.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Explicit 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, oral sex (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex (don’t be a fool, wrap your tool), some light D/s themes, Jack needs his own warning because his mouth is a weapon, slight dubcon if you squint and think hard about it, major infidelity themes.

Notes: It's the moment we've all been waiting for! We've got another trope, more soul-searching, but most importantly SMUT. We've been yearning about this cowboy for too long, it's time to do something about it!

Cross-posted on AO3

Cognitive Dissonance Masterlist || Whiskey & Westworld Series Masterlist

When conversation begins to ebb and the sun is barely a sliver on the horizon, your hosts gather up the dishes and pour short glasses of port and whiskey. Jack and Jeb enjoy theirs on the porch while you and Mary wash up and sip yours with wrinkled fingers. From your vantage point you can see Jack’s profile lined in sunset tangerine, his expression kind as him and Jeb murmur on. Mary’s comments range from where she got her teapot to the weather this week, finally landing on you as the sky begins to darken.

“You live close by?” she asks, to which you shake your head.

“We were heading up through the pass when we came upon Jeb. Our group traveled on ahead, we’ll ride to meet with them,” you say, wiping your hands dry. Mary shushes you and waves a hand.

“You can’t possibly continue riding tonight. You’ll stay in the spare room. It’s the least we can do.” Before you can protest Mary steps through the porch door to tell Jack and Jeb the plan. Jack looks up at her with curiosity, then catches you in the window. He dips his head - this okay? - for the second time today, and you drop your eyes before nodding. Your hands wring your dress, the only clothing you have, and that bedroom holds one queen-sized bed. You're far from a blushing virgin, but now that you know Jack will be lying beside you, your husband to your hosts, your insides are clenching and fighting against the hammering of your heart.

Mary leads you away as Jeb and Jack continue their conversation on the porch, bringing you back to the guest room that now makes your heart pound. She opens a bureau and pulls out a square of fabric, placing it in your upturned hands.

“My daughter’s, it should fit you,” she says simply, showing you where you can prepare for the evening. You thank her and she closes the door, leaving you standing in the middle of a room that will soon contain a beautiful man who has given you reason to believe he would like to touch you. Hands shaking, you're feverish at the idea of being alone with Jack.

Hurrying into the washroom, you strip out of your clothes and lay them over a rack for use tomorrow. A basin of cool water sits on a small chest and you use it to clean yourself as best as you can. You wish for a real shower, to be clean and fresh and not as self-conscious about how you smell or the neatness of your grooming. This will have to do.

On the other side of the washroom door you hear Jack enter, murmured words before the soft close of the door. You hurry to slip the white nightgown over your head, adjusting it against your body. It’s large and billowy on you, falling down to your ankles and offering no hints at your form underneath. The lace straps are feminine, and when you look in the mirror you find an ivory ribbon threaded through the neckline, loose ends meeting in a soft bow at the center of your chest. The sweetness of the detail brings your fingers up to dance along the edge, a secret smile playing across your lips. It makes you feel pretty.

Watching your reflection, you’re surprised to see a glow on your features that has been long hidden. You skate your fingers across your cheekbones, the bow of your lips, the line of your jaw. It’s easier to see what Jack might find attractive there, why he might be drawn to you. The years have melted from your face, the stress and worry replaced with calm and anticipation. The last time you could remember feeling this happy in your own skin was…

A cold hand grips your heart, your own hands coming to grasp the edge of the bureau.

You were happy when your fiance proposed.

The truth of your life swims back into stark relief, tears welling in your eyes. The times when you felt this full of joy to be with another person clamor to the forefront. Dates along the waterfront, a sweet bouquet of flowers, dinners and soft words and laughter. You had been happy, once.

But then like tendrils of ink, the truth bleeds into the warm memories. The fighting, the harsh words, the disdain he seems to hold for you day in and day out.

Why can’t you be more like my friends’ girlfriends?

You need to do this.

Because I told you to.

Stop being such a bitch.

The gray haze of your life hangs heavy around your shoulders. There were moments of happiness, and ones of pain and regret. But overriding all of them was the fact that you had said yes, accepted your fiance and all that would come with that vow. Were you truly going to do this? Violate your promise for a night with this kind-eyed man?

Tentatively opening the door, you hear more than see Jack in the room. The squeak of bed springs, the clatter of something being placed on a table, a sigh. You pad out barefoot into the room and have to fortify yourself at the sight.

Jack sits on the edge of the bed, hands resting on his thighs and a quiet, uncertain look on his face. He’s shed his denim, instead wearing some cotton sleeping pants and a long-sleeve undershirt. The sleeves are rolled up his forearms, buttons at his throat open down his chest. When he sees you he snaps his eyes to your face, holding your visage. His hands squeeze against his thighs and you recognize his strained expression.

Jack Daniels, rugged cowboy, trouble with a capital T, is struggling not to lose his composure.

You take a few slow steps towards him, rewarded when you see his throat bob. He tries to put on that playful smile but it wars against his body language.

“You’re looking more beautiful than I have a right to see, Sugar,” he says, and do you detect a warble in his voice? Is he as conflicted as you are? You come to rest in front of him, the cotton of the nightgown brushing against his knees. He leans back a fraction to look up at you, his thumbs working against his pants in anxious circles. You part your lips, wetting them with your tongue but Jack beats you to it.

“This can stop here, darlin’. We don’t have to keep playing this game. I’d be just as happy to have you sleeping beside me than anything else. Though I hope you’d forgive me if I asked to touch you.” His eyes flit off to rest somewhere else in the room, chewing on his lower lip. “Been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure of something sweet to hold.”

You succumb to the desire you had earlier, fingertips tugging his lower lip out from between his teeth. It pops back plump and pink, the crease in the center even more pronounced and you swipe your thumb across it indulgently. His eyes come back to yours, deep amber mixed with the onyx of desire.

His words wash over you. He’s letting you say you don’t want this, or can’t have this. You can lay down beside him and the most he’ll do is put his arms around you. It’s your lust and unfaithful heart that is tempting him. You don’t deserve what he can give.

“I’m not sweet, Jack,” you say, the bile of your desire making your mouth bitter. Self-loathing dampens your libido, and you move to step back from him. His fingers wrap around your injured wrist, large enough to circle it easily. He brings it to his mouth, pressing an open-mouthed kiss over the barely-there burn, his lips dragging on your skin.

“Sweet,” he hums, licking his lips as his other hand falls to your waist, urging you closer to him. You hesitantly step into the V of his legs, his fingers stretching across your lower back. Holding your gaze, he presses another kiss to the delicate skin inside your elbow. His tongue flits out this time, and the dart against your skin pulses heat in your core. Heat creeps up your neck, your eyes hooding as he pulls his mouth away again.

“Sweet here too,” he says, your hands coming to rest on his strong shoulders. He’s blazing hot beneath you, barely anything keeping your skin apart. This is the step before it changes. You can still walk away now. Jack will let you. But you have to decide.

He lays both hands across the span of your back, pulling in a heady breath.

“I know we’re playing with fire here. There's a lot more going on outside this room than either of us are really addressing. And before you say anything, I’m not just talking about your situation. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you too.” Jack’s thumbs sweep across your spine, his eyes downcast and rueful. “Something you should know before anything more happens.”

Your breathing slows, time becoming molasses-sticky under Jack’s hands. You study his face carefully, but you don’t see deception or shame in the lines of his eyes or the turn of his mouth. It could be anything or nothing, earth-shattering or insignificant. Whatever it is, he feels burdened by it as much as the weight of your vow on your mind. But with his face turning up to you, eyes gentler than any look your fiance has given you in months, you realize something.

You don’t care.

Whatever it is, whatever either of you is holding onto that makes this final step terrifying, it doesn’t matter. You know there’s something more, some part of him he thinks makes him unworthy, but you don’t care what it is. You made up your mind to follow Jack Daniels wherever he led you when you swung up onto Copper’s saddle.

“I know,” you say, watching Jack’s eyebrows lift in light surprise. “I know, and I don’t care. I don’t care about anything outside this room, because I've never been happier. Nothing has made me happier than this, right now.” Jack’s throat bobs again, a brightness returning to his eyes as his fingertips stroke along the curve of your back.

“What do you want?” he asks. No pet names, no banter. The calm before the dust storm.

“You said…before, that I…” you begin, tripping over what you hoped would be a witty remark but your tongue is suddenly heavy and stuttery. Jack nods.

“I said you could have all the Whiskey you want,” he replies, holding himself still as you study his face. In a moment of clarity you search for the machine behind the man. For glints in his eyes that reveal the inner cogs and programming. For a twitch that shows the mechanics. A sign that this shouldn’t be something you get lost in.

You can’t find it. You can’t pretend this is a high-tech sex bot sent to pleasure you devoid of emotion. Not with the way Jack looks up at you like you are all the sweetness in his life.

It’s time to stop doubting. It’s time to stop fighting.

“All of it,” you say, and the words lift such weight off your shoulders. “All that you can give me. I want it. I want you, Jack.”

The smile and gleam in his eye returns, earning a matching one from you.

“Yes, ma’am.”

And then he surges up to kiss you.

There was a movie you watched with your father when you were a child where an android kisses a man. You’d always remembered your father’s comment of, “it’s like kissing a toaster!” It made you laugh, stuck with you for years.

Kissing Jack Daniels was nothing like kissing a toaster.

He claims your mouth like you’re water in the desert, desperate, thirsty, needy noises in the back of his throat. You swallow them down, clutching at the front of his shirt as he crushes you to his chest. One hand wraps around the back of your neck, the other pulling you tight against him as he steals your breath, all soft full lips and ticklish mustache and the intoxicating scent of peach and, of course, whiskey on his breath. He parts from you briefly, beautifully curved nose pressed against yours.

“Told you,” he whispers, and the fact that he’s out of breath only drives your arousal higher. You hum curiously. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” You huff out a laugh that is cut short by his lips capturing yours again, the tip of his tongue swiping across your bottom one. Your tongues meet gently, soft presses and strokes before Jack’s hand tightens on your neck and his breath puffs hard against your cheek. He delves into your mouth, pulling forth gasps and keens as he savors you. Hands scrabbling at his chest, you lift his shirt half up, exposing his soft stomach to your wandering fingers. When they find the delicate trail of hair leading below his waistband he groans into your mouth, hand on your back sliding down your hip to bunch the flowing nightgown into his fist. Cool air rushes around your thighs as Jack sits back and guides you to straddle him. Sliding his hand up your thigh, you’re treated to a dark chuckle against your lips.

“All this for me, Sugar?” he teases, and the tone makes your cunt slick with arousal. His fingers dance over your bare ass, skimming into the dimples at the base of your spine and dragging up your back. He lets you breathe by dipping his head into the curve of your neck, nipping and lapping at the skin there as you roll your hips in anticipation. His hand flexes, blunt nails scraping lightly at your back and you let loose a thin moan.

“Oh Sugar, we are going to have fun tonight,” he whispers in your ear, and in a quick spin he’s got you on your back in the bed, head nestled in the pillows. You giggle at the quick way he moved you both, breathless at the strength and speed of it, before realizing he’s not slotting his hips between yours. Instead his shoulders are pressing your thighs open, baring you to his appreciative eyes. You try to slam your legs shut, some nervous instinct, but those sinful hands keep them open. He tuts at you, looking up through his dark eyelashes.

“Don’t you dare hide this from me, Sugar. I’m intending to have my fill here,” he drawls, hot air puffing against your sensitive flesh. Your hands wander frantically as Jack settles himself more comfortably, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Jack, you don’t…” you whine, and your lizard brain kicks your nervous brain for saying something so stupid out loud. You feel like you’ll die if he doesn’t bury that quick tongue inside you.

“Sugar, if you don’t like this I’ll gladly move on to other activities,” Jack says, placing another kiss closer to where you want him. “But if you think I don’t want to do it…” His words are lost as he licks a wide hot path from your entrance to your clit, your surprised moan so loud you slam your hand over your mouth. He lifts his head, lips wet with a devious smile. “Does that allay some fears?” You nod, hand still clamped over your mouth.

“Sweet girl,” Jack rumbles, the praise and his tongue going straight to your cunt. Your brow furrows at the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain in your intense arousal. Jack’s tongue is as quick and talented at eating you out as trading quips. He buries his face between your legs, holding you open for him as he circles your clit with the tip, flattening it to swipe and tease as you feel your orgasm building. He slides further down and laps at your entrance, slotting his tongue inside and rubbing circles with his strong nose that have you keening behind your hands. After sloppily licking back up to your clit, driving you wild with the undulation of his tongue, you almost shout at the waves of pleasure he’s pulling out of you. Jack lifts his mouth from your cunt, face shiny with your arousal, and nips at your stomach.

“Careful Sugar, don’t want sweet old Mary and Jeb to hear you cumming on my face,” he scolds without weight, making you throw your arm over your mouth instead. Your lips plant moans and whimpers in the crook of your elbow as Jack sucks one of his fingers into his mouth to wet it.

“Now if we were on my ranch I’d tell you to scream as loud as you want. Might even open the windows, let those pretty sounds drift on the breeze,” he rumbles, finger rubbing languid circles on your clit as his tongue explores all of the intimate skin between your legs.

“Or I would just lay you out under the stars and watch you take my cock by moonlight.” Your thighs tighten, a new rush of slick rewarding his filthy mouth. He coos and sucks you indulgently, steady pace on your clit holding your arousal but not mounting it.

“Beautiful girl,” he whispers, removing his finger as you whine in frustration. “Shhh, look at me Sugar.” You do, arm coming down off your lips as he gives you a placating smile. “What do you want? Tell me.” Your hips roll at his words and he pins them below those thick-fingered hands.

“Want to cum on your face, Jack,” you breathe out, voice rough from your attempts to stay silent. “Then I want you inside me.” Jack loses composure for a moment, heat growing in his eyes.

“Fuck, Sugar, I’m going to wreck this pretty cunt. Stay quiet for me,” he punches out, dropping his mouth to seal around your clit and suck. Pleasure explodes behind your eyelids, propriety forgotten as you brokenly moan at your impending orgasm. Jack’s fingers dig into your thighs as he releases you with a pop.

“What did I just say?” he growls out, mock anger in his voice but his eyes are mirthful.

“I…” you try to respond but he’s sitting up on his knees and manhandling you over onto your stomach.

“If you’re not going to be quiet, I’m going to have to make you,” he says, reaching up to tuck a pillow under your head. With a firm hand on the back of your neck he urges your face into the plush down. You’ve never been handled this way before, dominant and exacting but still gentle, and the sigh of “good girl” behind you makes you wiggle against the mattress. Jack’s powerful thighs frame your own, his other hand smoothing over the curves of your ass as he slips his fingers back between your legs. Finding your clit he returns to rubbing gloriously perfect circles on it, making your toes curl as you bury your head in the pillow.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful coming apart like this. Lift your hips,” he orders, letting the back of your neck go. He shuffles down your body as you lift and arch, his clever fingers following you. Wrapping his arm around your waist, fingers returning to your clit, you keen before Jack’s hot thick tongue is back inside, thrusting and messily mouthing at you. The press of his aquiline nose against your entrance as he strokes his soft tongue over your clit is lewd and filthy and perfect. His open-mouthed hums vibrate against you, and…is he drooling against your pussy? You think you hear the patter of wetness dripping onto the sheets and whether it’s your own or Jack’s it makes the coil in your gut finally snap.

You cum around his tongue, fisting the sheets and moaning Jack’s name into the pillow as he guides you through it. He’s groaning along with you, coaxing every drop out with muffled praise. “Good fucking girl, you cum all over my face. Fuck, you saying my name there sweet girl? Yeah, say who’s making you cum this good. Can’t wait to get more than my tongue inside this tight little pussy.” You feel his weight shift on the bed, one hand pushing the nightgown further up your back as the other fumbles behind you. You pull your head up from the pillow, wet from your open mouth, to see Jack’s rapt attention on your half-naked form below him. His arm flexes out of your sight but is most likely wrapped around his cock. The soft, hot length dragging against the back of your thigh confirms it.

With a boldness you try to reclaim after Jack’s dominance, you push back against Jack’s narrow hips, smearing your wet cunt against the head of his cock and his knuckles. He punches out a breath, gripping at your hip tight enough that he’ll leave bruises.

You’ll have evidence of tonight on your skin. You couldn’t care less.

“Please,” you beg, backing up further even as Jack tries to keep you still.

“Darlin’, I still gotta open you up for me,” he says, chuckling and stroking along your hip. You shake your head and press your hips flush, his velvety head nestling in your folds. He breathes in a choked gasp as you cant your hips to seat him at your entrance.

“I can take it, Jack, please,” you whine, and you’re half embarrassed at how needy you sound.

“Oh you do? Think you can take this?” he says, and he folds to cage you underneath his body. His arms are thick posts on either side of your head, knees knocking yours open as you feel the curved length of him slide through your folds and rest against your clit. His mouth comes to your ear, lips brushing against the shell and the scent of your arousal on his skin.

“Feel me, sweetheart. You might think you’re ready, but I’ll split you in half with my cock if I try to put it in this tight cunt right now. So why don’t you let me fill you with my fingers until you cum again and then, maybe, I’ll fuck you.” He rolls his hips against you, and his length does feel long and thick as it passes over your clit. You nod in agreement, but a timid word pops out.

“Only maybe?”

Jack kisses your shoulder, nose dragging against your skin.

“Teasing, Sugar. I can barely control myself when you talk like that.”

You try to shoot back something witty but Jack wraps an arm around your stomach and hauls you back against him, lifting you up to your knees as he plasters your back to his chest. You’re spread out over his lap, one of his hands cupping your breast and the other sliding down to gather slick on his fingertips. He mouths at your shoulder, your neck, taking your earlobe between his teeth as he sinks two fingers greedily inside you.

“Fuck, Jack!” you strain, hands clutching at the thick thighs below you. He laughs between his clenched teeth, running his tongue along the edge of your ear as he curls his fingers out of you before plunging them back in even deeper.

“Yes, Sugar, you just let me find that perfect spot for you,” he husks, his long arms holding you against him as he slowly drags his cock through the cleft of your ass. He places a hot kiss, edged with teeth, in the same spot behind your ear where he kissed you so sweetly at the dinner table. Swiping his fingers over your pert nipple through your nightgown, he pulls desperate moan after moan out of you, the thickness of his fingers everywhere making you bear down on him. With one particularly good thrust he finds that deep wonderful spot inside you, making your head loll back against his shoulder.

“Ahh, there it is. You gonna give me another good one darlin’?” Jack mumbles into your skin, alternating kisses and licks and bites along your shoulder and neck. He’s stroking against it now, perfectly hitting every time and pairing his onslaught with the slick rub of the heel of his hand against your clit. You release his thighs and instead wind your hands into his hair, soft and curling through your fingers. Jack buries his own little pants in your skin, his hips pressing more firmly against you.

“Gonna give you one more of my fingers, Sugar, and if you can take it you can take me whenever you beg prettily enough.” Your jaw drops as Jack works a third finger inside you, the dewy wetness already pooling in his hand giving him ample lubrication to slide inside. For a moment you feel too full to breathe, arching your back and feeling all your lower muscles clamp down in protest. Your fingers tighten in Jack’s hair and he stills, his free hand releasing your breast and sliding up to press you back against him. He holds you so tight, like he’s afraid you’ll bolt from his embrace.

“You’re okay Sugar, I’ve got you. Jack’s got you,” he murmurs soothingly in your ear. “Relax, breathe, I know it’s a lot. I’m gonna stay just like this until you move. You take your time, I ain’t in a rush.” The patience he's exhibiting makes your breath shaky. Sex has never been this intimate before, waffling between intense pleasure and overwhelming overstimulation. Your body is thrumming like it wants to run but instead you turn your head and graze your lips with his.

“Kiss me, Jack,” you ask, and he’s all too willing to oblige. In comparison to how lewdly you’re spread out on his fingers, he kisses you sweetly, slowly, savoring every press and lick and sigh. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing you softly. Your muscles release, easing around Jack’s fingers as you roll experimentally down. He lets you set a pace, barely moving off him as you feel your cunt accommodate.

“Beautiful,” he says against your lips. When he curls his fingers this time you feel blinding pleasure rekindle, your hips chasing it as you and Jack bring you to your peak in tandem.

“I’m gonna-” you keen, hips rolling faster as Jack reaches deep inside and mercilessly strokes against you.

“Cum, sweetheart, cum for me,” he growls, and just like that you are bowing back against him, choked gasps and his name squeezed out of your gasping lungs as he works you through your second orgasm.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, you’re gonna strangle me Sugar. Keep going, don’t you stop on me now, you got some more in you.” If you weren’t already thrashing through the longest orgasm you can remember Jack’s filthy mouth still would have kept you going. Finally, when the last few aftershocks leave you limp against him, he slips his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean. The sound of his appreciative hums and sucks next to your ear makes a shiver creep along your spine.

“Couldn’t help myself, darlin’, you just taste so good,” Jack says, pressing several soft kisses along your neck. With quiet strength and ease, he slides you down onto the bed, turning you so you’re lying in the pillows again. He sits back on his knees between your legs, finally allowing you a glimpse of his large, flushed cock in the V of his open pants. He was kind to slow you down; it sits proudly against his stomach, thick and pleasing but much longer than most you’d taken. That doesn’t stop you from wanting it, framing Jack’s hips with your thighs as he drinks you in. His hands bunch in the loose fabric of the nightgown draped around your waist.

“Can I take this off you, sweetheart?” he asks, and with a smile you sit up and help Jack guide it over your head. Now bare before him, his eyes widen and lower lip droops open in reverence. Skimming his hands over your bare shoulders, you let your own wander to the hem of his shirt.

“This too?” you ask, and he leans back and shucks off his shirt, almost as if he’d forgotten he was still clothed. Your hands descending to his pants make them follow in quick succession.

His strong, taut body shuffles between your softer thighs. Beautiful tan skin stretches across his meaty shoulders and biceps. The smooth planes of his chest are dotted with freckles, dark nipples begging for your mouth to tease. The light dusting of hair you’d glimpsed is primarily leading down to a thicker thatch around his cock. The muscles surrounding you speak of power, strength, endurance, but his hands touch you like you’re silk. Both bare, Jack takes his time leaning you back into the bed, exploring the softness of your stomach, the underside of your breasts, sliding his hands all the way from your shoulder to your wrist before interlacing your fingers. If you didn’t know better, you would call it longing in his touch.

Could he long for you?

“Sugar,” Jack rumbles as he’s leaning over you, dark eyes searching your face. You’re starting to like the endearment more and more. “I hope you’ll let me take my time with you now. I’d like this to last a little longer.” The sentimentality of it makes a lump well in your throat, but you nod as he breaks out into an endearing smile.

Jack does just that. He kisses you, soft and passionate and encompassing as he folds his body into yours. Hip to hip, legs intertwined, wrapped in each other’s arms you feel more present than with any man who’s laid with you before. And you finally let go of the overthinking, the constant analyzing of the puppet show going on around you, and just let yourself feel.

When he begins smoothly sliding his cock along your folds, arousal sparking in your spine, he hushes you and keeps the pace slow.

“Just feel me, darlin’, like I’m feeling you,” he says into your collarbone. You do just that, allowing your hips to roll into one another without any hurry or destination. It’s melting you into the bed, Jack’s kisses along your chest and neck punctuated by words of praise and adoration.

“Feel so good, just like this. Just like this,” Jack babbles against you, returning to your mouth as his strokes get longer, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance. The rolling waves of the motion mounts, making you grab at Jack’s back as he lifts onto his elbows, thumb stroking against your cheek. When the ache of arousal in your lower back makes your hips lift, Jack finally slides inside you with a long, slow stroke, watching your face.

You open your mouth in a soundless moan as he fills you. It feels like he keeps pushing into you for ages until his hips press into the cradle of your thighs, seated full and deep. You breathe through the mild discomfort, letting the pleasure pull to the forefront.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Jack says through clenched teeth, dropping his head to your forehead. You tilt your chin to capture his lips and he moans into your mouth, cupping the back of your neck. Slowly pulling away, the wet noise makes you dig your fingers into his shoulders before he rolls back at the same methodical pace.

“Jack, my god, you’re so fucking big,” you gasp as he grinds against you again.

“Oh Sugar, you’re gonna build up an ego in this old cowboy,” he jokes, a wash of giggles lightening the headiness of the moment. He keeps up the pace, a long slide in, long slide out, until your hips start to chase after him.

“Jack…” you gasp, cupping his jaw where he's flushed from his cheeks to his shoulders, panting and eyes hazy with lust.

“What do you need, Sugar?” he asks, and when you slide your thumb over his mouth you get the devilish urge to push it inside. Breaching his lips, he groans and sucks hard on your thumb, tongue swirling around the digit. It turns you on more than you thought, seeing him suck and lick and scrape his teeth against you. His hips begin to speed up, strokes still as long but more powerful at the end, one hand gripping at your hip as he fucks you deeper.

“Oh shit Jack, that, yes, keep…doing that,” you pant, making him smile around your thumb. You pull it from his lips and card your fingers through his hair, his eyes rolling back and closing.

“You like that Sugar? Like feeling me so deep inside you?” He slides a knee up under your thigh for leverage. “You getting what you need? Gonna cum on my cock beautiful?”

“Harder,” you gasp out, half shocked at your own admission. Jack’s dark eyes flash, a wicked curl on his lip as he crashes your mouths together, teeth clashing and messily licking into your mouth. When he pulls away he posts up on his knees, both hands wrapped around your waist as he maneuvers your thighs around his waist.

“Everything you want, sweetheart,” he grounds out before setting a punishing pace, hips snapping roughly into your cunt and a grimace of concentration and ecstasy blooms on Jack’s face. He adjusts the angle and suddenly he’s driving into that deep pleasurable spot inside you and you’re gasping and arching as he seats his thumb over your clit.

“Come on, sweetheart, cum for me. Cum on my thick cock. Want to feel you soak me with this delicious cunt. You’re so close, I can feel you. Let go, let go, c’mon, you can do it. Cum on me. Now.” Jack’s growls are punctuated by his hammering cock and his relentless fingers and you’re helpless to stop your peak from overtaking you. It blazes through your body, Jack’s powerful hands pinning you to keep his cock inside.

“Fuck, yes baby, yes, that’s my good girl, choke me with your fucking cum, god you feel so fucking amazing. Yes. Right there, I’m right there with you. Fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck…” Jack keeps his fingers circling your clit as he pulls out, fisting his cock over your stomach as he spills his load in long spurts on your skin. He’s making a mess, cum dribbling over his knuckles and painting you from hip to tit. Pulling in hard gasps above you with whimpers at the end, his fingers slow and he backs away enough to drop to his side beside you. Long moments pass with you both catching your breath in silence, then you blindly reach for him. Your fingers glance off his chest before he captures your wrist, pressing bristly kisses to your knuckles.

“Just wait here a moment, sweetheart, I’ll be right back,” he says, the mattress shifting as he stands and pads naked to the washroom. He returns with damp skin, a wet towel in hand that he uses to wipe his cum from your stomach. You think he’ll slide it between your legs too, but as he nudges them open he instead licks thickly through your sex, tasting you once more before a cursory wipe with the towel. He tosses it into some forgotten corner before pulling you to your feet, plastering you against his side as he folds back the blankets. Your limbs feel noodly, happy to lean on Jack’s broad frame as he guides you into bed.

Once he’s satisfied you’re snuggled in, he blows out the lights in the room and slides in beside you. You’re both still naked, the heat of your skin warming the cocoon of blankets around you. Jack’s arm slides under your neck and pulls you to drape over him. Your head finds the soft dip in his shoulder, hand placed in the center of his chest for his own to cover. This is more intimate than you anticipated after such satisfaction, but as Jack’s breath begins evening out under you, even your racing mind manages to quiet enough to enjoy the silence of the night.

PREVIOUS || NEXT

[sohcah-toa]

my favourite writers reqs are opened again, i missed youuu!~ <3

this one might be a lil hard to write and you totally don't have to do this ofc. but i was interested in maybe seeing a camgirl/watcher type read. with childe being the one and only money man he is, he uses cam sites to get off once in a while and particularly finds the reader interesting. end up spending a lotta money on them for either a priv session or just to make reader do what he askes. obvi in the end they both get off so itd just be like a mutal masterbation type thing. anywAys, sorry for the weird req. ily ❤️

-yours truely, the local childe simp™

Mister Mora ✾

cw — nsfw, smut, childe x afab reader, camgirl/watcher (chats included for fun), dirty talk, cussing, slight degradation, minors dni

note — childe can take me home honestly i dont even need the mora ; guys fuck codename childe and tartaglia, it's mister mora now

note — idk much about camgirl/watcher things so sorry if there's going to be mistakes, peace

tip or donate at ko-fi | masterlist

"Hey, I reserved dinner reservations tomorrow, want to go?" Childe asked someone on the phone, smiling "Alright, see you tomorrow" he turned the phone off and opened his laptop.

He looked at the time. He went to the site, his favorite one, actually the only one nowadays. He used to splurge money on different women but once he saw you, your site, your face, your body. He was surprised, shaken to the core, he just couldn't get his eyes off of you. Since then, it became his hobby, to watch and pay you do stuff for him.

—

You waved hi to all your viewers. You've been continuously growing. Earning left and right, especially this mister mora guy, he gives so much money for such small things that it feels like your scamming him but hey, it's his choice.

Not a moment later, the show began, you started teasing "What do you want guys?" you talked in a low raspy sexy voice, your finger pointing at your red lips "Oh? Does definitely not kaeya want something?"

The chat started to get flooded by users, asking you to do stuff, paying you. Of course, mistermora did. You slowly stripped, took your shorts off, your shirt, if they'd all have microphones, you could hear them cheering and grunting already.

They were all your regular viewers. Among all of them, mistermora was the one who kept giving and giving even if you aren't doing anything that great.

You giggle and pull the strap of your bra, hitting your shoulders to tease them. You whole body can be seen on the screen so you slowly rub the top of your cleavage. Slowly saying "Do you guys want this?"

You caress your own breasts, letting them jiggle and bounce "Oh as you wish" slowly you start removing your bra. Very very slowly and softly, your nipples start to show.

You just know that the chat is going crazy by now, as they always do. You start rubbing your areolas, showing them in front of the camera. Pinching and fondling your own breasts while reading the chat has made you damp.

You moan and groan, just like what the people want, some are saying to moan their name so you do. Then they started paying, saying to take your underwear off. You turned around, showing them your ass first then slowly pulled your panties off. Just like that the chat went crazy again.

You feel satisfied with what you are doing, making them go nuts. You slap your own ass then turned to the camera. This time, your pussy is facing it.

—

After that session, mistermora messaged you. Out of all your regular viewers, he's the only one you reply to. You have no idea why but there's just something about him.

You start preparing. You have never really seen his face, only his awesome body and cock, you don't complain, you get off on it anyway, it feels like he's so hot so you wonder if he has a handsome face. You've never even heard his real voice.

You were excited, getting paid to masturbate with a hot guy? Score! Mister Mora has never done anything to make you feel uncomfy, but you feel comfortable with almost anything so it's just fair.

It was time to get to it so you got ready, wore Mister Mora's favorite lingerie tonight to make him go feral.

"Heey, Mister Mora" You smiled at the camera, once again your whole body was seen "You know I was looking forward for this the whole session earlier? I was waiting for our daily session"

Then he said "I was too" using the fake voice again "I appreciate you wearing my favorite lingerie"

"Of course, I remember you telling me" You try to be as seductive as possible, rubbing your waist. You were laying down on your side.

He moved closer to the camera, even more impossible to see his face now, or even a glimpse of his hair "You see this?" he asked, he pulled his erect cock out of his underwear and started stroking it "It's been like this since earlier but I couldn't do it without you seeing me, my precious little whore"

"Aw mister mora, the others are nothing, you're my favorite" you giggled, putting your hand inside your bra, fondling it "I want to hear your real voice" you moaned a little

His strokes become faster "M-Maybe, if you earn it" he grunted "Come closer to the camera" he ordered and you did. Your breasts were right in front of the camera.

"What now?" You were still fondling your own breasts, letting it jiggle and bounce a little "You want this?" you start teasing him, trying to remove your bra but midway you would stop.

"Shit" he grunted, he likes it when you tease him "Show me" he said "Take it all off. If I was there, I'd fucking strip you myself and eat you like dinner, pound your brains out, you whore"

You moaned while removing the lingerie "Oh mister mora, how I wish" you bit your lower lip "When will that happen already?"

Childe was doing everything he can to edge himself, even going slower just so he can enjoy the show. You start touching yourself, rubbing your own clit, legs spread so he can see it all. You rub your own nipples and moan like crazy.

"You're so sexy" he was breathing hard already, like he saw a prey, he wanted to ravish it "ghn, my fucking slut"

You keep moaning, feeling the pleasure "Mister m—mora, fuck me already" you felt so hot, staring at his massive erect cock on the screen "Eat my pussy p-please" you were a moaning mess, just for him

"Fuck" he muttered, "Finger yourself" he said "And go fast, I'm about to cum" pre cum was coming out of his dick already, he was feeling it, he was feeling his high.

You inserted two fingers inside of your hole "Shit, shit ngh fuck" you kept on cussing and moaning because you know he likes that "I want your cock mister mora" your head bent upwards with closed eyes, you were screaming and begging for his dick.

As you fingers go in and out of you, your thumb was on your clit, rubbing it in circles, rubbing it in any way you feel pleasure. You hear him grunt and breathe heavily which turns you on, plus his massive cock on the camera.

"Say that you're my slut" he grunted, his mind was blank, all of this was pure impulse "Say it, you bitch"

You licked your upper lip a little "I'm your slut" you cried out, feeling your climax "I-I'm about to cum, can I c-cum?" you asked

"You cum when I tell you" he said, the sound of your moaning on the screen, begging for his cock, touching yourself for him, asking him if you could cum, it all turns him on. You were perfect for him, you know what he wants.

You were so horny that all you wanted was to feel his dick. It's been a long time since you and him did this but he still wouldn't make a move to actually fuck you.

"I'm—I'm cumming" he grunted before letting himself cum "Oh shit, I just came, that felt so good" he tried to catch his breath, still watching you finger yourself.

Your legs shivered, feeling like you're about to climax. He said "That's it slut, go" he then chuckled and oh Lord, his chuckle was so fucking sexy "Don't cum yet" he took his phone and set it on camera mode "I want to capture you cum, spread your legs even more"

It was hard to do since you were about to cum but you tried your hardest to spread your legs "P-Please, I-I—'m cumming" you screamed and let yourself feel heaven. Then your slick flowed down on your fingers, you pulled it out and showed it to the camera.

"I didn't tell you to cum but I got this hot picture so I'm not going to punish you" he said, showing you the picture

You nod "Thank you mister mora"

—

It was the next day, you have some plans with your friend so you start getting ready. You see mister mora's favorite lingerie and toss it in the laundry "Can't wait for later"

A few hours later, you were with your friend at this fancy restaurant "Childe, what the heck? This place is F A N C Y, how did you afford this? Wait, did you take me so I can pay?"

He chuckled, his chuckle seems familiar "No no, I'll pay, you can pay next time"

"You sure you can afford this? I have money, you know" you slap his shoulder playfully. He's been your friend ever since you were a kid, you know each other, inside and out, well he certainly knows more.

He looked at you "Hmm, sure you do" he answered, grabbing the menu and looking at all the food

"Shut up, if you're going to pay then I'll order a lot, you loser" you laugh and start scanning the menu "Is this a date? I knew you were inlove with me" you laugh. You always joke like this with him, he never really had a girlfriend before.

"Whatever you say idiot" he said, calling the waiter. He looks at you, wondering if you have the slightest hint of what's happening.

End

[blog-name-idk]

Everything Falls (Into Place) | 20

*Banner by the incredible @bangtansmauyeondan

Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Word Count: 2930

~~~~~

You

JIN

HELP ME

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO WEAR

Jin

Lol it's so cute how you always freak out like this

Whatever you choose will be fine

You

That's not helpful!

Jin

I know my beautiful wife will look good in anything

You

Your beautiful wife might end up going naked at this point

Jin

I mean, they might be a little surprised

But they're surprisingly progressive

You

Ew you're not suggesting swinging with your parents right?

Jin

Omg NO wtf

You

Lmao

Seriously though

What are you wearing

Jin

Ohhh you want to know what I'm wearing, huh? ;)

You

Kim Seokjin I am this close to losing it

Jin

Ok ok want me to come help you decide?

You

Please!!

Just let me get dressed

Jin

Lol are you STILL in your PJs?

You

Uhh in a manner of speaking

Jin blinked at his phone, glad that you weren't there to laugh at the way his ears were blazing. He had almost forgotten that little tidbit you had casually thrown out in the group chat so long ago. He tried not to dwell on your sleeping attire - or lack thereof - but it was fruitless. Were you wearing a shirt? Or just underwear? Or… nothing at all? While texting him?

Jin

Oh

Oh fuck, he was getting a boner and he was supposed to go to your room to help you pick out dinner clothes for tonight. You room, where you were currently - no no no don't think about her naked in her room. He wasn't a hormonal teenager anymore, why couldn't he control these intrusive thoughts?

Well, he knew why. The conversation with his housemates had been necessary, but now he couldn't stop hoping that the dreamy scenarios he had of you by his side would become a reality. And yet he was conflicted - he liked to think that he was a big enough person to be satisfied if you felt the same way he did, whether the others were involved or not. But he couldn't tell if he would really be fine with it in reality.

He had never really been a jealous person, but it was hard to predict how his feelings would go in that type of situation. On the other hand, if you did end up with only him, wouldn't he then feel guilty for causing his best friends pain? At the same time, it also seemed pointless to ponder too long on these theoretical questions, since he had no way of knowing how he would react until something actually happened.

He acted confident and nonchalant around the others - in a way he felt like he had to, being the oldest. But this situation had a part of him terrified. While he normally didn't have a problem asking people out, this was you, a real, flawed, wonderful person who had somehow become the girl of his dreams. And at the end of the day it wouldn't just affect the two of you, but a whole slew of the people he cared most about in the world.

Still, he knew it had to be done. They couldn't live in this state of limbo forever, no matter how cozily domestic everything currently felt. If you didn't feel the same way, you would be kind about it (which was almost worse, because if you were the type to be cold then none of them would like you this much). Things would eventually return to some semblance of normality. Though it could mean the potential loss of your teasing banter and gentle touches, since you would probably feel uncomfortable continuing to do so.

Jin's phone dinged, making him realize he had just been standing, lost in thought, for the last several minutes.

Oops. Well, at least his dick had calmed down. He sighed. One way or another, tonight was going to be an experience.

You

You coming?

Hellooooooooooo

~~~~~

"[Y/n]! It's so wonderful to finally see you again!"

Gee, it's great to see you too mom," grumbled Jin, crossing his arms and jutting his plump bottom lip out into a horribly cute pout. You were torn between the desire to kiss it and strangle him for making it so hard to control yourself. Instead of either option you smiled at his mother, who had come to greet the two of you at the door. She smiled back, also ignoring her son, and pulled you into a hug.

"Come in, come in," she urged, stepping aside so you could enter the impressive foyer.

"Wow, it's even lovelier inside than outside," you said in awe, hoping you didn't look like a complete bumpkin as you gaped at the lush interior. You would have felt like an out-of-place peasant had Jin not taken that moment to set his hands reassuringly on your shoulders.

"That's because they spent an unnecessary amount of money contracting an interior designer and an interior decorator," he quipped. You nodded, pretending you totally knew there was a difference between the two.

His mother led the two of you to the sitting room - you weren't actually sure what differentiated that from a living room, either - where Jin's father was lounging with a tumbler of what was probably some very expensive whiskey. As soon as you entered the room, he grinned and stood up to greet the two of you.

"[Y/n], we're so happy you were able to come," he said, giving you a quick one-armed hug before doing the same for Jin. He then made his way to a gorgeous, well-stocked bar-cart complete with a swanky ice bucket and tongs, and asked if either of you wanted anything to drink.

"Could I try what you're having?" you asked. You weren't normally one to drink liquor without a mixer, but that was more because you were a cheap college student who wasn't going to spend money on something expensive. You wanted to know what something actually nice tasted like. Jin echoed your preference and his father complied, pulling a beautiful crystal decanter from the cart.

"Ice?" he asked, and you shook your head, curious about the unaltered flavor. He raised his eyebrows and flashed a smile at his son.

"She might be a better whiskey drinker than you," he joked as he put ice in only one of the glasses. Jin rolled his eyes good-naturedly before directing you to sit next to him on a plush couch.

When his father came over with your drinks, you took a cautious sniff, expecting harsh fumes. Instead you were met by a more mellow, almost sweet aroma. It still burned your nose a little, but it was actually pleasant. The amber liquid seemed to glow in the light of the room, and when you took a tentative sip you gasped at how smooth it tasted.

"Wow," you breathed, stunned. So this was why people got so snobby and annoying about fancy alcohol. A small noise from Jin caught your attention and you turned to see him smiling at you.

"You're so cute," he teased. You couldn't tell if the heat you felt rising in your cheeks was from the whiskey or the unabashed fondness in his gaze. He shouldn't have been allowed to smile at you like that.

"Ah, young love."

That brought you back to your senses and you snapped your gaze towards his mother, who was whispering to her husband with a grin that was bordering on a smirk. Embarrassed by how obvious you were being, you took another sip of whiskey, then almost spilled it onto the dress you were wearing when Jin set his hand lightly on your knee. The fucker didn't even look at you when he did so, instead just laughing and redirecting the topic to summer plans.

You found it increasingly difficult to concentrate with his large, warm hand on your bare skin, but you did your best to look attentive and pay attention as his parents told you about the trip to Paris they planned to take soon. And then his thumb began tracing soft circles that left goosebumps in their wake and you knew you were in trouble.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but could I use the restroom?" you asked, desperate to escape that innocent yet horribly tantalizing touch.

"Oh! Of course!" Thank god, freedom.

"Jin, could you show her the way?" Fuck.

"Of course."

Your oh-so-loving not-boyfriend stood up first and gallantly held out his hand to help you up. Suppressing a hysterical laugh, you took it and let him lead you through the house, which was more like a manor. Because you couldn't leave well enough alone, you opened your big stupid mouth.

"Why were you doing that?"

"Doing what?" He looked confused, and you wanted to die at the realization that he hadn't even been consciously trying to fluster you.

"I… er… nevermind," you stuttered. He stopped walking and turned to face you completely, and you cursed yourself for being so unconvincing.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, concern shining in those gorgeous eyes. He was still holding your hand, and your heart began to speed up.

"Youputyourhandonmyknee," the words spilled out and you cringed at how juvenile you sounded. Couples did that kind of thing all the time, and you couldn't handle it because you were an idiot.

Jin's eyes widened and he let go of your hand, looking distraught.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, was that crossing a line? I just felt so comfortable that I didn't even think about it."

He looked genuinely ashamed, which in turn made you feel horrible because the problem wasn't that he had crossed a line. It was that your evil brain wanted him to. The longer he had innocently stroked your skin, the harder it had become not to imagine that hand inching its way further up. Ugh, he was about to hate you for this, but anything was better than being the cause of the distress on his face.

"That's not it, exactly."

"Is this too much for you? I'm sorry if I pushed you into seeing my parents again, I'm sure it can't be easy pretending to like me - "

"Oh my god," you groaned, cutting him off and covering your face with your hands. "Please shut up and stop being sweet for a second, Jin."

You watched his face go confused (and slightly offended), and he cocked his head to the side. Why did he have to be so perfect? Fuck. Well.

"It was just… really distracting…" you said through gritted teeth, hoping you wouldn't have to elaborate. Unfortunately the world hated you, because your beautiful not-boyfriend was looking at you expectantly, still bewildered. You closed your eyes so you wouldn't have to see his reaction, and let the life-ruining words come out.

"I'm not pretending to like you."

You waited in agonizing silence for his response. When none came, you opened your eyes to see him staring at you, lips slightly parted in shock. Your heart sank. He was probably speechless at the way you had completely broken his trust. You looked down at your feet, ashamed to realize your eyes were starting to burn.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I didn't mean to take advantage of the situation."

A hand cupped your chin and forced you to meet his gaze. His eyes were wide, with an almost wild light shining from them.

"You - you like me?" he asked, a tightness you'd never heard before permeating his voice. You gave a tiny nod, sure that if you opened your mouth you wouldn't be able to keep your tears at bay.

"As in, romantically?" You gave another nod, brows knitting slightly. What exactly was so hard to grasp about -

His lips descended on yours, effectively shutting your brain up. Before you could fully register what was happening, he pulled back, ears bright pink.

"Um," he started, but by then your shock had worn off. You grabbed his shirt, dragging him back towards you. Your mind was still reeling and you weren't exactly sure what was happening, but fuck if you were going to let that be how your first kiss with him ended.

Jin's lips were just as soft and full as you had imagined, and he gave a very satisfying little shiver when you nipped his bottom lip. He brought one hand to thread through your hair, angling your head for better access, and the other to your lower back, bringing you flush against him.

You gave a contented sigh at the way his warm body pressed against yours, and he took the opportunity to trace the sound with his tongue. Not to be outdone, you met it with your own, feeling the blood in your veins simmer more and more with each swipe. Your hands left his shirt to tangle into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer, and the hand on your back began to creep lower.

"And you're sure you don't want the guest room?"

The two of you sprang apart and you stared wide-eyed at his mother. Oh god, she had literally just caught the two of you making out like teenagers.

"Mom, uh -"

"Dinner's ready," she said, cutting off Jin's squeaky attempt at an explanation and looking like she was trying very hard not to laugh. "Jin, I thought we taught you to save dessert for last."

You both spluttered at the innuendo, and she gave you a wink that made your face burn even hotter before prancing - prancing! - away and out of sight, leaving the two of you in utter silence.

"I-" the two of you began at once, then stopped.

"Sorry, go ahead," you both said, again at the same. You finally made eye contact then burst out laughing, and the awkwardness dissipated.

"So… you like me?" His eyes were sparkling and he was wearing a big, goofy smile. He was so fucking pretty.

"I think we established that," you confirmed dryly, also unable to keep the grin off your own face. "I'm assuming you feel the same?"

"Nah," he said nonchalantly, his lips twitching even wider. You scoffed and punched him lightly in the chest, and he grabbed your hand and brushed his lips against your knuckles.

"Of course I do," he said softly, dropping his teasing and gazing at you earnestly. The look in his eyes turned your knees into jelly, and it was all you could do to pull him back down for another kiss.

~~~~~

The dinner went by smoothly despite the earlier… indiscretion. Besides some veiled teasing, Jin's mother thankfully didn't bring up the event. By the end of the night, though, your giddiness had faded into apprehension. It was incredible that Jin appeared to be just as enamored as you were, but it didn't remove the little issue of your still existing feelings for your other friends. His best friends.

You managed to keep your composure through goodbyes with his parents, but when you buckled into the passenger's seat of Jin's car, you felt the full weight of apprehension settle into you. You couldn't do this to him.

Your eyes burned at the thought of throwing away this happiness so quickly, and a sniffle forced its way out of you. Jin immediately took your hand, eyes wide.

"What's wrong?" He asked frantically, his consideration making it even harder for you to maintain your composure.

"I-I have to tell you something," you managed to choke out, and before he could ask what you meant, you let it all spill out. That you didn't just have feelings for him, but every single one of your roommates. You took multiple deep breaths, trying to calm down. God, what must he think of you now?

"Huh, hearing that actually didn't bother me as much as I thought it would."

Your head whipped to look at him, and instead of looking angry or disgusted, he just looked thoughtful. And maybe a little relieved, which made zero sense.

"Uh, what?" The weak question escaped your lips before you could help it, and Jin laughed. The look he gave you was gentle, and his hand moved to stroke your cheek. What the fuck was happening?

"I'm not upset," he assured you, and astoundingly there was complete sincerity in his gaze. "I'm actually fine with it."

"What do you mean?" You asked, and he gave you a reassuring smile.

"I mean, I still want to try this. With you."

This had to be a prank. You half expected one of those douchey prank Youtubers to pop out of the trunk and yell "surprise!" When nothing of the sort occurred, you were forced to accept the fact that this was actually happening. Sensing your confusion, he continued.

"I don't mind if something develops with any of them," he explained. "As long as you're honest with me about it. And considering this conversation right now that's not really something I'm worried about."

You stared at him with your jaw in your lap as you processed this information. Uncertainty flashed across his face at your silence.

"Unless I'm getting ahead of myself? If you don't want - "

"How are you so amazing?" You blurted, cutting him off. His shoulders relaxed and he laughed again.

"I could ask you the same," he responded shamelessly, making your heart pound. Could this really be happening? Was this real life?

"Sooooo?" He looked at you hopefully, and you finally felt a smile take over your face.

"Yes, fucking yes," you breathed, and his grin was everything that was perfect in the world.

"Oh thank God," he sighed, and crashed his lips back down onto yours.

~~~~~

Next | Masterlist

Tags: @singukieee @persphonesorchid @xmochiloverx @taestefully-in-luv @meavie @silscintilla @forpunishers @jnghs

[awakeshedreams]

ink and kinks and other little things

pairing : tattooartist!JK x collegestudent!reader

setting : non idol au, established relationship au

summary :

your boyfriend ruins your day. he's got to pay for it.

Jeon Jungkook, the love of your life, chose the worst night to be a jerk.

(+ bonus, the morning after)

genre : lots of smut and lots fluff

rating : m for graphic adult content

wordcount : 8.8k

warnings : read content below unless you want to avoid spoilers ;)

content :

dom/sub undertones, pet names, food play, inappropriate use of whipped cream, mommy kink, cameo of dom jk, fem dom, breast / nipple play, sloppy blowjobs, morning after, silly chatter, lots of kissing, lots of spit, pwp, porn with a dam full of feelings, nasty and disrespectful sex, but it's a healthy and wholesome relationship, corny domestic stuff, they kiss and touch alot so what they're practically married, it's intense, guk and kookie used as nicknames alternatively, bare with me, lovers quarrel?, jungkook is blessed and packing, jungkook is a little bit of a brat, a needy brat who needs a good spanking actually, but it's fine because he loves you like crazy and he's so so smitten so we won't go so hard on him, just a little face slapping and cock strangling will suffice, lots of spit exchange going on here, not really a spit kink but it happens quite a lot here so might as well point it out, reader has had a rough week so she's going through it and MAYBE she's projecting but that's not what's important here, WE HAVE GRITTY SEX AND A LOVING RELATIONSHIP HERE !!!

a/n : this is the longest, lewdest pwp smut I've ever written in my whole life. it's outright detailed sin and erotica with a splash of fluff and domesticity and nothing more. pretty self indulgent and pretty raunchy but sweet and soft, especially in the second half. what came over me? no idea. just hope people actually like this. your reblogs mean a lot and it makes me happy when you leave a like or a comment and let me know you're thoughts and feelings and if I need to fix or improve on somethings. Soooo enjoy and have a splendid day.

-

You usually like to go grocery shopping on Thursday nights. Not a lot of people went there around these times.

They were at home or with their loved ones. Watching football or eating out or something. 

A friend of yours from college decided to tag along and be your cart pusher for the day.

'So what's it like? Having a tattoo artist boyfriend.'

You were at the dairy section.

Lowering the pack of cheese you'd been appraising, you turned to regard her with a frown.

What was that even supposed to mean?

'Is it supposed to be any different than having a normal boyfriend?'

'Of course!’ She exclaimed, as if it was ridiculous that you didn’t know something that was apparently so obvious. ‘Isn't he like... real kinky?'

You glanced away and gave it thought.

Was he?

Not that it was any of her business.

The look you gave her was a blank deadpan this time.

Your friend blinked owlishly, titling her head. 

'What’s with the look?'

'This is me telling you we're not having this conversation,' You droned, standing to chuck the cheese pack into the cart. 'In the middle of a grocery store at that.'

'Sheesh.' She pouted, sending you an accusatory glare. 'You’re no fun. Such a prude.'

You ignored her jab and idly reached for a can of whipped cream.

If only she knew.

You turned it in your hand as your friend continued to brood in the background, checking its price and content.

Just the thing you were looking for.

You smirked in satisfaction.

-

In the end, you don’t get much. Just enough to last till the weekend.

Spilling the contents onto the counter, you got to arranging.

First you loaded the cabinet then you moved to crouch at the open fridge. 

You shivered a little at the chill, distantly wondering if you should’ve worn something more covering instead of shorts beneath your hoodie as you started packing.

Some eggs... milk… a pack of bacon… cheese…. whipped cream…. whipped cream??

You paused, blinking to look around, a little puzzled. It was gone.

You could’ve sworn you just had it.

Frowning, you stood and shut the fridge before you moved to the living room.

‘Kookie?’

No answer.

You were sure you heard him come in.

Maybe he went inside.

You turned away from the empty couch and moved towards the bedroom.

Twisting the knob, you slowly opened the door.

You peeked through the crack, careful to keep your voice quite incase he was sleeping.

'Guk-'

You paused midway when you found yourself staring at a bare tattooed back. There were dots of dampness on his skin and he had a towel around his waist.

Lifting your gaze, you watched him as he rubbed his damp hair with a towel vigorously, the long, dark locks flying here and there.

He registered your presence from the corner of his eyes and turned to face you.

‘Hey.’ He greeted you with a smile, hanging the towel around his neck, 'What's up?’

You frowned.

Walking past him you grabbed him by the arm to sit him down at vanity and reached for the blow drier set there.

The machine roared to life in your hands and you got to drying his hair. The water on his damp strands evaporated as you ran your fingers through it with care.

He had a sensitive scalp.

Evidently, he moaned shamelessly when the blunt of your nails scratched him.

‘Feels s'good.’

He was slurring. That was how far gone he was. You snorted. He was so easy to please sometimes, so sensitive.

When you shut the machine down he actually whined.

‘Go put some clothes on.’ You told him sternly. ‘You’ll fall sick.’

His pout deepened and his pleading look became a deadpan.

You crossed your arms and raised a challenging brow.

‘Hurry. I want to turn the AC on.’

Knowing that would get him moving, you turned to leave. He knew you didn’t like cuddling with him when he was cold as a corpse.

'Didn't you come here for something.’ 

You started to a pause and whipped around to find him at the open closet, his back to you. 

He was just standing there, not picking anything out.

You almost groaned but then his words hit you.

Yeah. You came here for…

‘The whipped cream’s missing.’ You recalled, blinking. ‘Have you seen it?’

He was quiet for far too long.

‘Nope.’

‘Kookie.’

‘Yes.’

'If you took it for whatever reason-‘

He turned and the passively serious look he regarded you with beneath the damp waves of his fringe made your toes curl in.

His eyes were lidded, his voice deep and low when he spoke.

‘What’re you gonna do about it.’

Something stirred inside you.

But more importantly.

Your fists clenched and your pursed your lips.

A lapse of silence passed like, his intense stare weighing down on you as you tried to hold yourself steady and pull yourself together.

‘Jeon Jungkook…'

To say his abrupt burst into laughter startled you would have been an understatement. You near jumped out your skin and jolted in place when he suddenly doubled over, clutching his belly while he belted out his bouts of hearty, heartfelt laughter.

Just like that, the loaded atmosphere broke.

‘Oh god…' Jungkook straightened, eyes teary as he sighed out, patting at his firm tummy. ‘Wait, let me just,'

Beyond confused, you watched him walk over to the vanity to filter through the bottles of cosmetics lined up on its surface.

He was looking for something.

You saw what it was when he held it up. The can gleamed like a beacon and you couldn’t believe your eyes. It was the whipped cream. Your jaw almost dropped.

What the hell?

‘I was just joking.’ He handed it to you, on the tail end of his laughter, a little out of breath from the effort. ‘Here.’

Your momentary shock dissipated completely. You snatched it and you glowered at him.

'It's not funny.’

'Come on, it was, a little.' He said, snorting out a chuckle even, before a pierced brow shot up and he leaned in close to take in your expression. ‘You’re not mad are you?’

You glared at him hotly.

All traces of mirth vanished from his features.

Jungkook blinked, lips parting and closing as both his brows disappeared beneath his messy fringe completely. Now he was stumped.

‘It’s just whipped cream.’ Was his lame response to your blatant fury. It only pushed you further off the edge.

‘I’ve been waiting weeks for this.’ You hated that you were actually feeling heated enough to get all teary eyed. His eyes widen with a look of horror as he realized what he’d done. ‘How could you just… take it!’

He shot out to reach for you, calling out your name in a panic.

You moved before he could put his hands on you.

'Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook.’

You slammed the door in his face when you left.

Storming down the halls, you wiped at you eyes vigorously and sniffled.

Jeon Jungkook, the love of your life, chose the worst night to be a jerk.

-

You couldn’t help it.

You cried angrily as you haphazardly prepared your parfait.

This was supposed to be the pinnacle of your rough month.

But now you felt more like shit than you had any other day and you couldn’t even tell exactly why.

God. You hated PMS.

The bowl was overflowing with whipped cream when he came in stumbling on his feet, carrying a plead behind the way he said your name.

‘I’m sorry. Really very sorry.’

You deliberately ignored him.

'Please, I was just joking around-'

You slammed the can down, cutting him off.

What a twisted sense of humor he had. It was one of the many reasons you fell for him. But wielding it at your expense? The nerve.

'Don't talk to me.’

He sighed behind you. There was a shuffle that told you he was probably messing his hair up with his fingers in frustration. It granted you a little bit of satisfaction but not enough to drop it so easy.

He’d really fucked you up and he needed to know that.

‘Tell me, what can I do to make it up to you? I'll do anything.’  He said, capturing you attention with how defeated and helpless he sounded. You did feel a little bad. You were human after all, but something in you spiked at what he said. Your ears perked and twitched when you heard a distinct rustle followed by a dull thud. ‘Look. I’m even down on my knees.’

Your eyes widened. Stilling, you slowly turned to regard him under your nose.

His hair was a mess, his shirt was inside out and the drawstrings of his sweats were untied and loose. He looked like he hastily put some clothes on and sprinted here.

He had distraught and desperation written all over his face and it triggered something innate and profoundly base in you.

Jungkook's shoulders fell when he took in your torn up state, your face gleaming with tears, your sniffling nose red.

‘Fuck, I- I’m so sorry. I fucked up. Please… just tell me-'

His words died in a stutter in his throat when you shot out to grab his hair.

You heard him when he choked out your name, but you weren’t really listening anymore. He’d apologized about a dozen times, expressed his regret in more than words and he’d said he’d do anything to make up for getting you like this.

You were hung up on that last part.

'Anything.’ You echoed lowly, dragging your feet so you could stand in between the spread of his thighs and see his face clearly. There was a little shock there but the sincerity in his galaxy eyes always did shine through the most over anything else when it came to him. ‘You said you’d do anything to make up for it. For ruining my day.’

Jungkook swallowed, and he let out a shaky breath.

‘Yes. Anything.’ He tried to nod, but it was hard with you gripping his hair. ‘It was dumb of me, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-'

‘Shut up.’ You cut him off, sharp and pointed like the sudden slight narrow of you eyes, looking down on him. ‘I said don’t talk.’

He gulped thickly, throat bobbing, but he nodded as stiffly as he could.

Looking into his clear, doe eyes, you saw just how much of a mess you looked and you reflected on your month, your week, your day- how you got here, at rock bottom like this in the first place.

'This was supposed to be a nice day.’ You told him quietly, slowly, your voice a little small, and maybe you sounded pathetic but you didn’t care. He’s seen you at your worst. ‘I’ve been craving parfait since that Parisian café opened down the street. But it’s overpriced and I’ve got bills to pay so I thought I could just make one for myself at home once the finals were over.’ You lower lip started to wobble, cracking your mute, unbothered facade. The dam was breaking, you were about to fall apart and you couldn’t even be perplexed at the fact that after all this time, this was all it really took, but there was no time for that.

You were tired and over and done with being treated like you were just some little kid. Either unassuming or inexperienced or fun to mess around with. By your peers at uni, by your lecturers, by your friends and by your freaking boyfriend. Perhaps you weren’t helping your case, rambling like this, but you had a right to be emotional and you had to let it out otherwise you’d explode. ‘You have no idea how excited I was when I saw they brought in a new flavor of that whip cream I like. Chocolate. You know how much I like chocolate, don’t you?’

Jungkook was taken aback by your sudden rant more than anything else, not really knowing where all this was coming from, and it was a little overwhelming but he still tried to nod frantically for you to show you he understood and that he was listening, that he cared- but you gripped his hair tighter and he actually winced.

‘And still. You went and-'

You stopped yourself and bit your tongue. At this point, your body was shaking. Your insides simmered. There was a lot going beneath the surface as you stared him down, looking so torn with guilt on his knees and at your mercy.

In the end, this probably wasn’t fair. Jungkook wasn’t anywhere near as bad as everyone else around you. In fact, he wasn’t at all. He liked to fool around and he just liked stirring you up a little every once in a while, especially when he noticed you were feeling down or blue, but there was never malice or spite in any of it. It was endearing and refreshing, how playful he could be. How he liked to make you laugh and make you feel good. He was very fond of you and he showed it in these ways.

You appreciate his efforts and you cherish him with all your heart too… but today all you wanted more than anything was just to some peace of mind and a wholesome parfait after the grueling finals, and the annoying campus mates and impossible to please professors, just… all the things that made up the terrible month you had.

You managed to compress all you felt into four simple words and you finally told him.

‘You ruined my day, Jungkook.’

You could see the effect that the weight of your words had on him. He frowned, and scowled, and even shifted like he wanted to stand and hold your face in his hands and kiss his apologies into you.

'And I said I’m sorry.’ His voice came out a mix between a hoarse plead and a helpless whine as he peered up at you, his throat working a little. 'I swear I wasn’t trying to-'

‘Shut up.’ You commanded, abruptly stepping on his thigh, eliciting a choked sound from the back of his throat. Your eyes narrowed as you looked down at his stunned expression. How dare he take that defensive tone with you. ‘Open your mouth.’

You felt his muscles clench and flex tellingly against the pad of your foot. He was unresponsive for a moment, just gaping, seemingly struck, but he did as you said readily without refute before you could raise an impatient pointed brow, spreading those plump lips open.

From this point on, you were guided simply by a deep founded coiling heat that now centered in your gut, thick and heavy and boiling.

Reaching towards the counter, you grabbed the can of whip cream. He watched you while you gave it a shake, holding his gaze all the while, before you shoved the nozzle in his face. 

He didn’t even flinch. 

In the charged silence, you took a moment to really study his expression.

His pupils were blown out, his gaze heavy lidded, his chest heaving lightly, his abdomen clenched beneath the thin material of his shirt.

He was looking forward to it. Anticipating what you would do to him.

The pool of arousal threatening to over flow, spill and make you misbehave yourself only got even more intense to the point where even standing and looking down at him had wetness gathering in between your legs, where there was a dull throb- but your scowl deepened.

He could at least look a little terrified, couldn’t he? No. Instead, he looked as excited as you were. His cock twitched against your feet, extended and erect and fully hard now.

Your nipples hardened and you resisted the urge to rub your thighs together and tease him with your feet while flicking them.

Without warning, you pressed down and he actually choked a little as you filled his mouth with the cream until it was completely bottomed out.

Once it was empty, you tossed the can aside and gripped his hair tighter, angling his head higher.

The bulge at his throat trembled wildly as he looked up at you with those smoldering, lust laden eyes of his.

You leaned over, so close that your noses brushed.

‘You’re gonna make up for it? Make up for ruining my day and make it good again?’

He nodded once more and he almost choked trying to give you a verbal response, but it was muffled.

The chuckle that tumbled out of your lips was dark, a little lazy even, and you tilted your head as you took him in, your hand in his hair loosening to glide down and caress his face. 

'You don’t need to say anything.’ You told him softly, airy breath fanning his flushed face. You could feel his breath too, uneven and ragged and short. ‘You’ve just gotta be good and let me use you how I please to lift my mood. Got it?’

He nodded again, the movement jerky.

The flush dusted over his skin got deeper and deeper and it was so satisfying to see.

'Good.’ You traced his flexing jaw with a faint curl to your lips, pleased. ‘Now keep your mouth open for me while I lick it all.’

Jungkook’s eyes widened as your words dawned on him, your intentions clear as day now that you’ve said them out loud.

Now he looked terrified.

You gave him a smirk and grabbed him by the jaw to pull him in.

Your teeth clanked as you pressed forward to dip your tongue into his whipped cream filled mouth, the wet muscle dancing across the inside of his mouth and brushing against his as you licked him clean.

The kiss, if it could be called that, was wet and messy and dirty dirty dirty and it made you burn with a blaze overwhelming desire for him all over.

You gripped his jaw tighter to get him to open up wider, drank in his muffled moans as his chest rumbled against your sternum, and you tilted your head to shove your tongue deeper, greedily devouring the intoxicating taste of him as well the sweet cream. 

You had a mixture of your spit and his and melted cream all over your chin. It dribbled down his, trickling down his front and staining his lap.

When you pulled away, licking your lips after nibbling on him, he was panting.

You brushed you thumb over his bottom lip, bruised and raw, your hand taking a gentler touch from the previous firm clutch to hold his face. Your eyes flickered to his and you found him watching you intently, his eyes almost black and entirely misty with desire.

He was breathing heavy, his ribs expanding and deflating dramatically where you were pressed. You could feel the pound of his heart, strong and fast and almost deafening.

Or was that yours?

Hard to tell.

'What's with that look.’ You huffed in mock derision, trying to mask the fact that you were just as debauched and fucked out as he was, if not even more. You were dripping down your legs and if you let him look elsewhere and lower his gaze, he would be able to make out the clear shape of your nipples poking through your too, stiff and aching and begging for attention, not unlike his cock, that pulsed and bobbed and swelled within the confine if his sweats. 'I haven’t even done anything yet. Are you scared?’

Jungkook’s lids fluttered and he leaned into your touch, nuzzling into your palm. 'Are you gonna punish me?’ he asked in a slurred husk, eyes unfocused and bleary but clearly darkened and trained on you. ‘Teach me a lesson for misbehaving?’

He looked irresistible and unreal like this, his hair still slightly damp but with sweat instead of water, his lips berry in shade and plump, his skin prettily pink and his entire body just pressing into yours so needily, saying such unfathomable things in that sensually raspy, panty dropping voice of his.

‘I should shouldn’t I.’ You mumbled your agreement airily. You noticed distantly that even you were struggling to breath now, trailing your fingers lower, stroking the shaky bulge at his throat almost idly. ‘You deserve the worst for ruining my day. Or else you’ll never learn.’

Your fingers abruptly closed around his neck.

Jungkook’s breath hitched and he seriously began to choke.

He stuttered out your name in a gruff cough.

You tightened it, feeling his pulse jump.

He continued to seem struggle to breath, but he try to dislodge your hold on him. 

Just like he didn’t try to reach for you and hold you like he always did when you kissed earlier…

Oh, you could’ve fallen to your knees.

But this wasn’t that kind of day. You were in charge today. You held back letting out a shaky, faint breath in favor of lifting your chin in an attempt to look imposing, domineering.

'What did I say?’ You demanded in a sultry purr. ‘Keep your mouth shut unless I tell you open it.’

Jungkook made a strangled sound in the back of his throat, guttural and needy and raw as he fought to keep his barely open eyes on you and not rolling to the back of his head.

You tilted your head sideways, thumb massaging his pulse as you took in just how frazzled and hopeless he looked in front of you.

'I don’t know… will this really be enough? Will you really learn from this?’

Jungkook looked like he really wanted to say something but he was smart, biting down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood as he fought to hold your demanding gaze, even as his knees shuffled in challenge against the floor.

You frowned and reached to brush the trickle of blood with you thumb gently.

'You're gonna hurt yourself trying to be good…' you hummed in a drawl, lips unwittingly falling in the corners even as arousal filled you. ‘Do you want to please me that bad? Huh?’

Jungkook just heaved, plump lips parted uselessly as his lids fluttered weakly.

Loosening your grip a little on his throat, you licked the scarlet of your thumb with an expectant brow raised, making sure to flick your tongue sensually, your eyes flickering to his.

'I asked you a question.’

‘Yes!’ He rasped throatily, breathing heavy as air flowed into him again, gasping out your name. ‘Yes, Please, I-'

You tightened your grip in warning, making him choke on his words.

‘No.’ You shook your head, squinting your eyes in disapproval as you admonished him. ‘You don’t get to call me by my name after what you did. Try again.’

You loosened your grip once more, looking at him expectantly.

You could only imagine how you looked in his eyes. Manic probably. You wanted him and you wanted this to the point of insanity right now.

Jungkook swallowed, gazing up at you with a longing look in his sea glass eyes.

'Mommy,' he rasped and you felt your insides flip and curl along with your toes, into the strong muscle at his thigh and the floor. ‘I’m sorry for being bad. Punish me so I can learn… teach me how to be good. Please, Mommy.’

There it was.

Your lips stretched in a s smile for him and rewarded him with a peck.

‘That’s right.’ You said. ‘I know deep down inside, you’re a good boy. Aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’ He nodded, head lolling almost as he shimmed on his knees to get impossibly close to you, drinking in your every praise. ‘For you Mommy. Just for you. Please-'

'Shh.’ You hushed him gently. He was getting too excited now. It was cute to see him like this but there was a role you were trying to play here. ‘That’s enough now. I'm still mad at you, Jungkook. Even if you beg like this, I can’t let it go so easy.’

You straightened to put some distance between your bodies and started unzipping your top.

His dark eyes watched you closely, unblinking and absolutely enraptured. When the seams fell apart, you saw the way his throat bobbed, how the veins popped at his neck as he tried to hold himself together while he stared at the smooth and soft swell of your tits.

‘What you did was so bad.’ You chided him softly, sinking to your knees before him. His eyes darted away from your chest to yours in question and you gave him a wordless, coy smile as you looked up at him, delighting in how his stance faltered for a moment when you reached over to stroke him over his pants. ‘You need to make up for it, Kookie.’

He looked down to watch where you were touching him and you clasped his chin to redirect his attention.

'Eyes on me.’ You said. ‘This is part of your punishment.’

Jungkook nodded and held your heavy gaze lidded gaze even as you reached into to his sweats to retrieve his erection and jerked him off.

You could feel him tremble with restraint, and he twitched persistently in your hand as he panted breathlessly, the flush on him only deepening more and more as a sheen of sweat formed over his skin.

'So hard…' You said, thumbing his leaking slit slowly. Your fingers could barely meet around his girth, he was more than well endowed and generously packing, tall in height and thick. There was a lot of ground to cover and you tried to be thorough about it, making sure no patch of sensitive skin was left out. You used some of his pre-cum as lubricant and even let a little spit to dribble down your chin onto him to make an easy glide as you stroked him from base to tip. He shuddered and whimpered. ‘Does it hurt?’

'N-no. Feels good- when you-'

‘When I?’ You tilted your head.

'When you-when you use your thumb-'

‘Like this?’

You stroked him down the slit where a jutting vein was slowly and he went feral.

'Fuck!’ He groaned, hips snapping, biceps bulging as his fists tightened around nothing where they dug and crushed into the floor. ‘Yes!’

'It's not supposed to feel good though.’ You droned with a little laugh and you saw when it flashed in his eyes. Unadulterated dread. It thrilled you a little and it made you bold. ‘It’s supposed to feel like hell. Because I’m punishing you after all.’

Then you dipped your head and took him in your mouth and immediately he started thrusting up.

You moved back to pull yourself off him with a wet pop and shot him a hard look. ‘Don’t move.’ You told him harshly, lips glistening with a bit of his pre-cum and your saliva. ‘And keep your hands to yourself.’

He nodded erratically, so ready to acquiesce and abide.

‘Okay…’ It came out as a groan through his gritted teeth, his jaw tense. Oh. You mused. What’s this? He was getting impatient? Restless? Frustrated? ‘Please just- ugh!’

You put your mouth on his cock again, planting wet kisses and licking around the base, tracing the pulsing veiny lines with your tongue and his head fell back. His nails dug into his palms, cutting skin as he tried to control the urge to roll his hips into your mouth while you sucked him off slow and sloppy.

He stuttered out your name only to stumble when you squeezed his balls pointedly at his slip of tongue. ‘Mommy- fuck- I’m close.’

You peered up at him and almost creamed yourself on the spot. He looked so debauched.

You increased your vigor, massaging his heavy balls in your hands until it became impossible for him to breath as you bobbed your head up and down on his tip, rolling your tongue over the sensitive head.

He released hoarse sounds as you coated his shaft with your saliva, strained and strangled, crosses between whimpers and moans.

Adjusting your position and spreading your knees, you grasped him at the base and opened your lips up. You held his gaze, engulfing his cock into your mouth and you hummed as he glided into you until his tip hit the back of your throat.

Jungkook murmured weakly, near delirious, cock throbbing wildly inside of you as he took in the sight. Of your lips stretched around his cock. At the exhilarating sensation of your warm mouth and your tight throat clutching him in a snatch.

His hands sought your hair, startling you, tightening, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, he began drawing you back and forth, in and out. He thrust his cock into and out of your mouth, chest thrumming at the view of him entering and exiting the tight purse of your plump lips, glistening with your spit.

Shutting his eyes tight, he began bucking his hips sharply, fucking your face with a punishing ferocity as he gripped you tightly and threw his head further back, mouth hanging open. His balls slapped against your chin, and you gagged on his cock at the change in pace, gripping at his thighs for purchase. It only aroused him more, made him flex his hips with even more zest and zeal.

Chancing you a glance, he found you looking out of this world ravishing.

Your teary eyes fluttered, tear tracks staining your flushed, hollowed cheeks. You clutched him snug with those plump, juicy lips, even as you gurgled on his cock.

Releasing a rough groan, he flexed his hips harshly and brought you forward onto his cock until your nose pressed into his abdomen and he slipped as deep into your throat as he could go. His thighs clenched beneath your palms as he released a low curse, muttering absolute nonsense, and his cock pulsed tellingly and he couldn’t help but jerk further in as his abdomen clenched and he tasted it on his tongue as felt it on his bones-

Only to fall hitting the ground hard when you abruptly pulled away.

His eyes shot open, bleary as they blinked at you, while he heaved heavily, wide in disbelief, stumbling over his tongue stuttering your name.

‘Why would you-'

A harsh slap had his head snapping sideways.

‘That.’ You snapped, heaving over yourself with tears and snot and spit all over your face. God, you could finally breathe again. Your scalp tingled a little from where he’d grabbed you and it was pleasant but today was not that kind of a day. Your scowl deepened. ‘And I told you not to move. But you did.’

Jungkook could do nothing but release a broken sound as his eyes watered and your look turned a little wry, some of the vexation in you simmering down.

You hated seeing him get like this. He just wanted you that bad and he acted out because of it. You knew where he was coming from. You felt the same.

Getting your hair out of your face, you straddled his lap, held his face to lift his hanging head and made him look straight at you.

‘Jungkook, I can’t reward you if you’re not going to be good and listen to me.’ You said softly, soothing the sting off his left cheek with the gentle stroke of your thumb over the pinkening skin as he sniffled, his nose so so red.. ‘All you have to do is do as I say. It’s that simple. Why is it so hard for you to understand?’

'I-' He tried to voice but found himself choking on a sob, speech stuttering. His shoulders shook and tears streamed down his face almost endlessly. ‘I’m sorry, mommy. So sorry, I won’t do it again. I swear I’ll be good. I promise… please … I swear…’

‘Shh…’ You hushed him quietly, wiping at them, feeling your heart soften to a puddle unbiddenly with your love for him. ‘Since you’re such a sweetie, I’ll tell you one more time. One last time.’

Jungkook listened to you intently, holding your now steady gaze with his teary ones.

'Don't move unless I tell you to. Don’t talk unless I ask you something. Keep your hands where I put them, only move them when you hear me tell you to. Got it?’

He nodded while you held him, a jerky movement as he sniffled again.

'Yes, mommy.’

You smiled. How adorable.

'Good.’ You said, pecking the red tip of his nose, satisfied, soul rested at reaching an agreement with him and seeing him calm a little. It made slipping into your role again easier. 'If you call my name again with your filthy mouth, I’m gonna stop. You’ve got to earn it. Otherwise, you’ll never learn.’

Since it wasn’t a question, he didn’t respond. You watched his throat bobbed as he shook a little. It was the quake that came in the aftermath of sobbing and something else. You were vaguely aware of his slick cock where it laid flat against the ridged planes of his solid tummy, twitching and pulsing and desperate for a little touch, a little kiss, a little suck, from you.

It was almost embarrassing to admit how close you were to pouncing on him in the moment. But you wanted to keep this going. You stopped him earlier so firmly because of it.

'I think you understand well enough now. ‘ You pushed yourself off your knees and stood to help him take his shirt off, marveling and feeling at his ripped ink skin for a moment before your eyes flickered to his face. ‘Now kiss me.’

He pushed forward and crashed his lips against yours, moaning deeply as he shoved his tongue down your throat, all too eager to finally be able to be allowed this.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your hands slid up his firm chest, fingers joining and clasping to lace as you brought your arms around his neck.

You forced yourself to part from him to angle your head the other way to deepen the kiss and he chased your lips hungrily all the way, your teeth colliding when you meshed together again.

With your hands in his hair, you guided him to you neck, then your collarbones. You hugged him tighter and sighed in bliss as he started lavishing your tits, lapping at your nipples with his tongue and relieving them off their ache, nibbling with his teeth.

'Fuck…' You moaned, arching, for more. You wanted more. ‘Guk… use your hands. Touch them.’

His hands shot out fast and he gripped, squeezing your flesh as he showered your tits with his attention, leaving a sheen behind from his mouth and a red tinge and sting from his fervor.

You winced, jolting sharply.

He was being too rough. Pinching and biting and twisting, drawing seemingly pained sounds from deep inside of you as you panted. But you couldn’t find it in you to stop him because it felt so good.

To reward him for making you feel good, you reached in between your bodies, gripping his cock again.

He jolted, unintentionally biting down on your nipple, making you jerk with a curse as electricity shot through you, hitting you down to the core. But you kept pretense, grabbing his cock and pulling him back by the hair to give him a stern look.

'Don't stop.’ You commanded, breathless and throaty. ‘If you want to come. Don’t. Stop.’

Jungkook obliged and dived in to suckle on your tits and knead the soft flesh with even more vigor than before, something you didn’t think possible. You jerked him off with just as much zeal, fingers scratching his scalp as you bit down on your bottom lip, throbbing dully from the kiss before, to hold back wanton noises.

‘M-mommy-‘ he husked in a stutter against your tits, a strong arm looping around your waist to ground him, hand trembling where he squeezed you desperately when he pulled away to look up at you with glittery eyes. ‘I’m sorry b-but- I-'

You moved your fist up and down around his girth, probing the leaking tip with your thumb, gathering pre cum and spreading the sticky essence all over his shaft as you asked him if you were making him feel good, observing his lust laden expression through your lashes, to which he nodded at dumbly, incoherent affirmatives tumbling out of his parted lips.

‘Are you close?’ His balls were hot and heavy and pulsing with load when you took them between your fingers to rile him up even more and he groaned, shaking his head and shutting his eyes tightly. ‘Tell me, are you close baby?’ He pulsed at the pet name, a harsh curse slipping out the part of his lip. ‘Yes!’

'Well?’ You prompted, increasing your pace as you felt his cock buzz tellingly. ‘Come for me, baby boy.’

And he did, thick, hot jet streams shooting out and flying all over in between them, on your belly, on your thighs, and even on the bottom curve of your tits.

You found yourself breathing heavy in the aftermath, supporting a spent Jungkook who had his face buried into you chest with his back bowed, his arms weakly brought around your waist .

You kept your hand on his hair, soothing down the damp strands gently.

‘Tired…’ he mumbled into your skin, an incoherent slur you miraculously caught. ‘Can’t… move…'

You laughed a little.

'Of course.’ You said. You were feeling a lot more drained than you usually did after sex yourself, from your skin down to your bone. ‘That was a lot wasn’t it.’

‘Yeah…' he agreed sleepily. ‘But I had fun…. T’was good.’

‘I know.’ You leaned into to press a kiss to his crown and looped your arms snug around him in an embrace to keep him warm. ‘Me too.’ - Somewhere in between pulling yourselves together and trying to learn how to breath again, he’d dozed of on your tits.

You had a petite frame compared to his height and muscle. Jungkook was really tall and very broad in general.

Dragging his dead weight to the room wasn’t easy.

But you got there eventually.

He sunk into the sheets mumbling on his belly and you joined him on your side of the bed after catching your breath, shimmying into comfort next to his warmth to get some shut eye for a moment.

A handful of hours must’ve gone by. You were first to wake up. It was somewhere around five am. Not your usual time, unlike Jungkook who loved getting up early to hit the gym before work, but you had things to do.

He must’ve been really tired. He slept through his alarm. You reached out to the night stand with his things to hit snooze for him and decided he could do with some extra minutes of sleep.

You watched him propped on one elbow with your fist pressing at your cheek where he slept on after changing out of your birthday suit into one of his comfortable shirts, snoring softly, touching his hair.

Jungkook shifted, eyes fluttering lazily. When they saw you, he blinked dazedly multiple times before he shifted on his side to face you completely, bringing a loose arm around your waist.

‘Are you not tired?’ He asked you with a pleasant gruffness to his voice, eyes still shut.

‘No,’ You shook your head, tracing along the shape of his brow gently and brushing his fringe aside before you cupped his face. ‘I’m starting early today.’

His lids cracked open a notch and he looked at you questioningly with sleep in his eyes.

'Doing what?’

‘Homework.’

'But you’re in college.’ He pointed out in a rasp, pouting a little at the prospect of having you torn away from him and tugging you closer until you tumble on top of him. ’They don’t give out homework in college. I know. I’ve been there.’

You laughed, finding his clinginess cute. It wasn’t everyday that he referred back to his younger days, days he didn’t seem to be too proud of, often times reminiscing on them every now and then with a cringe or grimace or red tipped ears.

If there was something you knew for sure he didn’t regret about all the mishaps and slip ups of his past life, it was that it made him who he was, got him his awesome sleeve and it led him to meeting you in his later years.

Unable to help it, feeling your heart brim, you leaned down to peck him, just because he was right there, so close and near and yours.

‘It’s an assignment that I’m supposed to get done at home so…'

‘Homework.’ He nodded, lips stretching in a lazy, dopey grin as his hands lifted to rest on your waist and massage your sides absently. ‘Right. What about your parfait?’

That gave you a pause. He planted a kiss on the side of your mouth. He probably meant to catch your lips but he obviously still had quite some sleep weighing down on his system.

Right now, he seemed fine with just kissing down your jaw, and your neck, gentle and languid as he breathed you in and embraced you snugger. Distractedly, he asked. 'Did you get to eat it?’

You considered it in, humming at the pleasant feeling of his lips and hands on you, slipping your fingers into his hair, cradling the back of his head when he lifts his head a little to nip at your collarbones.

‘Yeah.’ You breathed out, voice a little husky. When he pulled away to blink up at you questioningly, you titled your and you grinned a little, working your thumb in circles at the base of his skull . 'You feed it to me, don’t you remember?’

The hazy look on his face dissipated as clarity dawned on his features and a deep flush broke out on his face, from the tips of his ears and down his neck.

'I thought…’ he trailed off, blinking repeatedly, struggling to speak as he went over the events of the previous night. ‘That’s good then. That uh you’ve satisfied your craving.’

You held back a little chuckle at his flustered reaction and hummed.

‘Yeah…' Your fingers touched his lips, soft and plump and still a little redder than normal from yesterday. ‘I wonder what I’ll be craving next.’

His lips stretched underneath your finger tip and it was nothing short cheeky and brimming mischief.

'Me too.’ He said, reaching out to cradle your nape. His thumb brushed your pulse tenderly, and he brought you close enough so that your noses touched and you shared a breath. ‘That reminds me, I never really got to make it up to you.’

Your suspicion for a scheme aside, you frowned at what he said, tilting your head.

‘You did.’ You told him, wondering if he was joking around or something. ‘I’m not mad anymore.’

'I mean I got to get off,' Jungkook explained, eyes darting all over your face before it settled on yours, steady and firm. ‘But you didn’t.’

‘Oh.’ You blinked, suddenly feeling all hot and funny. You let out a little breathy laugh and shook your head, squeezing where you held him a little to reassure him, giving him a tiny smile. ‘But, I didn’t need to. I had fun too. It's fine, really.’

He held you in silence, idly tracing your cheeks.

‘But I want to make it up to you.’ He stated earnestly, then he titled his head and his eyes flickered to you with a telling glint. He rasped our your name. 'I’m craving something.’

You resisted a huff even as you shuddered down to your toes and decided to entertain him

‘Tell me.' You perched your chin on his sternum and stared up at him, fingers slipping his hair to glide down his neck and shoulder in a slow, drawn out motion to rest on his chest, where his heart beat was picking up ‘What are you craving?’

Jungkook was silent for a beat, watching you with darkening eyes.

'Do we still have whip cream left?’

‘No.’ You shook your head slightly, feeling him up. ‘Finished it.’

He nodded distractedly, humming low in his throat.

'Alright.’ He muttered, reaching out to sooth your hair down and before he gripped. Oh. Heat coiled in your belly and he smirked at how hot you were getting on top of him. ‘I'm guessing fruit and yogurt will do. We have that.’

You peered up at him through your lashes and bit you lip, pulse picking up. The morning wood he sporting was getting impossible to ignore now with how he was looking at you.

‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’

‘Yeap.’ His lips curled into a lazy grin, and when he released you, you almost whined but he went straight to cupping your ass beneath the shirt of his you were wearing, clad in only underwear, making you jolt a little at the sudden motion, but you certainly had no complaints. ‘But first-‘

Jungkook chuckled at the sound you let out, and he gave you a playful smack before he mumbled, eyes dark with intent.

‘Will you look at the clock- it’s time for breakfast.’ Of course he would go and say something corny like that first thing in the morning. You couldn’t help but laugh as you sat up with your palms on his chest to push yourself off him.

‘It’s my turn to cook.’ You said, standing after moving off your straddle on him to slip your feet into your slippers, a white bunny with red detail to match his black bunny with pink cheeks. You tied your hair into a messy bun as he shuffled to lay on his side behind you and looked down at him over your shoulder, hands on your hips. ‘What are you in the mood for?’

He observed you silently for a while, then he reached over and gently took your hand, tugging you back.

'You.’ He spoke lowly, husking your name, his gaze clear even while heavy lidded with blatant arousal. ‘I’m in the mood for you.’

You sighed and turned to face him, leaning down to give him a quick peck and hold his face with your free hand.

‘That’s real sweet Kooks, but I’m talking about real food.’

He opened his pretty doe eyes wider slowly, bottom lip jutting out in pout that floored you, almost ensnaring you. A tender chuckle tumbled out of your lips and you gave his cheek a light pat with a little ‘tough luck’ before heading towards the door when he let reluctantly your hand slip out of his.

‘Put on something before you come out.’ You called from the door after grabbing one of his sweats from the draw before you entered the bathroom to freshen up quickly. They were big, dragging on the floor but they were warm and comfy and all you had to do was pull on the drawstrings. You shivered as soon as you walked out and hit the hallways, hugging yourself, trying to rub the goosebumps off your arms. The mornings were as brutal as ever it seemed. ‘It’s really cold out here.’

You could hear him groan from the living room and you shook your head, sighing under your breath as you slipped into the kitchen. Jungkook got sick so easy and he could be so stylish when he went out without trying but he hated wearing clothes inside more than anything.

What a mysterious enigma, you thought with a hint of sarcasm, and unbidden, a hint of affection bled through and extended that thought. One of the seven wonders of the world, that one.

You’d get to him and dress him yourself in a moment. Right now, your grumbling tummy couldn’t be ignored any longer.

You opened the fridge and stared at the contents for a while before you took out the eggs and bacon and set it on the counter.

Jungkook came out in a hoodie with sweats on, sitting across you on one of the two tall stools where you were setting the plates with a frown.

You absently started a count down in your head as you arranged the spread before you, already knowing the drill.

Three.

Two.

He started by calling you out, voice rough from sleep still. ‘You’re a real meanie. You know that?’

You hummed absently, moving to the other side and cracking the eggs over the sizzling pan.

‘At least give me my morning kiss.’ He called out from behind you. ‘I gave it to you already.’

‘A real one.’ He countered. ‘Not just a peck.’

You turned to grab some salt on the eating counter and sent him a look.

His hair was all mussed and you had to admit it was an adorably, hot look but there were other more pressing matters that begged for your attention. He was dressed yes, but of course, he was showing ripped skin down the center. It was tempting but you were more concerned for his wellbeing.

'Zip it first.’ You gestured at his hoodie. ‘Maybe then I’ll think about it.’

Jungkook did as you said sooner than you could finish blinking.

‘There.’ He declared with enthusiasm, brimming with childlike glee with an ear to ear grin, practically thrumming in excitement in his seat. ‘Now kiss me.’

Oh, there was no way you could deny him, especially when he got like this, so eager for your kisses. But you could be a little stern about, try to get all contemplative and rational when all you wanted to do was shower him with them.

So, you stared at him for a bit before you walked over and braced yourself to lean over the counter on your tiptoes so you could lift yourself, palms pressed onto the cold, marble surface.

He spared you the embarrassment of having to climb the counter and leaned over with his height to meet you somewhere halfway and cradle your face in his hands.

It was just a fitted press at first, your mouth slotted against his gently, melding perfectly, then a gliding roll of lips.

He held your face tighter when you tried to get back on your heels.

'The food…' you spoke airily against the wet smack of their lips, gaze trying to shift over your shoulders where the stove was sizzling. ‘It’s gonna burn…'

He tolerated blindly kissing your cheek for only a bit before he used his other hand to redirect your face towards him and meshed your lips again.

'Just a little bit more…' he husked, taking you bottom lip in between his as he angled his head, thumbs brushing your warm cheeks tenderly. ‘Let me taste you a bit more…'

His mouth tasted a little like mint, with a hint of cherry from his favorite chap stick and something distinctly him beneath it all as your tongues breached to mingle. It was intoxicating, making you feel dizzy and weightless.

Your heart felt unbelievably full and it was the easiest thing to melt into him. You closed your eyes, giving in and let him caress your tongue with his as you made out until your lungs protested.

Your eyes were still softly shut when he pulled way with a string of saliva in between your lips. He smiled a little at your serene expression and your eyes opened when he brushed a trail of wetness off the side of your mouth with his thumbs.

‘Spit.’ He said simply, giving you a final wipe with a satisfied nod and a dopey stretch to his lips. ‘All good now.’

You felt the spot with your fingers. It tingled pleasantly, like your cheeks, which were hot and probably super flushed with color.

Nodding, you pushed yourself off the counter and went over to check on the eggs.

They were a little crisper around the edge but luckily, not charred and burnt. Jungkook liked his eggs a little on the rawer in the mornings, for the rich proteins, good for muscles, he said once. You would have these ones. You finished cooking with no incident and in no time you were sitting across each other.

'Looks good,' Jungkook complimented, reaching for his fork with a bright grin as you did the same. It widened when he looked up at you. There was that pretty, sea glass twinkle in his galaxy eyes. ‘Thanks for the meal.’

You watched him dive in, humming graciously and you looked down at your own food, muttering your own thank with a little smile.

You were so so grateful for having him in your life.

- 

i went through hoops trying to upload this. i made the banner myself. i edited this a dozen times.

a little game. take a shot every i use one word a hundred times because i have one braincell. dm me the hospital bill.

[quaememinisse]

The First Time

Plot: OFC loses her virginity to her lover, Geralt of Rivia.

Relationship(s): Geralt/Original Female Character

Warnings: Graphic sexual detail, dubious consent, smut, pain kink, mention of blood/loss of virginity, domination, squirting, orgasm

It felt…hard. Heated. Dry. Very hard, rather meaty.

Geralt’s light groaning makes Aria feel more turned on than she lets on. He keeps dipping the very tip of his cock against her opening, testing her readiness, his orange-amber eyes glimmering as he grins toothlessly.

“You’re a little wet, my sweet…were you thinking of me, as I have thought of you so many times now?”

Before she can answer, the sensation of Geralt’s thick penis abruptly entering her cunt, nearly the entire organ buried, causes Aria to gasp.

“Geralt—it hurts!”

She leans backwards, pressing upon his strong, overbearing chest. She could have pushed him with everything she had, and it wouldn’t have made him budge. Aria continues to struggle. Her eyes widen, mouth falling agape in what appears to Geralt to be apparent disbelief. He moans and pushes himself inside the woman a little further. Aria whimpers, clutching the witcher’s shoulders. He inhales sharply before biting his quivering lip. Her cunt is so incredibly tight. He knows that part of this is due to Aria’s virginity, the other part, to his impressive girth.

“It hurts,” Aria whines again, a tear escaping her eye. Geralt’s eyes bathe down at her regretfully, and she struggles where she’s saddling him, trying to pull out of his lap. He keeps a firm grip around her waist, rubbing her back and shushing her now.

“T-take it out,” she breathes, leaning back more, but Geralt’s grip doesn’t leave her.

“If you keep struggling, it will hurt more, my love.”

Geralt’s lingering kiss on her forehead is only slightly distracting. Aria’s ears greedily drink in his calm, even toned voice, her eyes pinched shut. Geralt retreats slightly, only to attempt to ease his penis back in. Aria gasps again, opening her eyes and grabbing Geralt’s shoulders, her fingers tangling in his white mane.

“Geralt,” she chokes, wincing. More tears grace Aria’s cheeks. The witcher starts to kiss her lips, and she’s not sure whether he is doing this to silence her crying, or to try and soothe and distract her from the way his cock stretches her virginal opening in ways she isn’t accustomed to.

“It will feel good,” Geralt promises, pausing to look her in the eyes, never stopping the gentle swaying of his hips between her thighs. Which have begun to cling disobediently to him. It frustrates Geralt, but he knows that if he gets too rough with her now, Aria will never want to have sex with him again. Women took warming, as Geralt thoroughly learned throughout his time fucking many a whore. He didn’t want to hurt Aria, use her body the same way he did the others. The only other person he had actually made real, caring, and gentle love to was Yennefer. And even she, who’d had many before Geralt, had expressed some discomfort of his size. He knew he wasn’t taking Aria too roughly, but she needed to be broken in. This might have hurt her regardless of how carefully Geralt had decided to proceed. He’d had a few virgins before Aria, but none had been moved to the point of tears, such as she, when he tried to penetrate them. Still, the primal need to be buried inside her to the hilt doesn’t dissuade him from continuing.

Geralt somehow manages to gradually make his way deeper, and Aria moans suddenly. Out of pleasure. It feels as though he has moved past a very painful point, and is instead touching something inside of Aria that is intensely pleasurable. She had pleasured herself plenty of times, externally for the most part, but had never had anything so large in her vagina before. Both she and the witcher would discover that he had torn her hymen, as she bled just enough for a few drops to stain his milky pelvis, and the white sheet beneath them. A few more tears escape Aria’s eyes, which Geralt kisses away carefully.

“I told you it would feel good,” he breathes, thrusting in gently once, trying to gauge if Aria was still in too much pain to enjoy this. She gasps, clasping on his shoulders again.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, pressing his lips atop her head. He gives her short, shallow thrusts, moving through her gasps and groans. Aria trembles suddenly, and Geralt feels her tighten even more, like a deathtrap. It felt so good, he almost came. Her cunt pulses on him so hard, that it begins to force his cock out. He shudders, his eyes rolling closed, slipping his penis further into her wet depth. Her body temperature soothes him, and he sighs. Aria gasps again as Geralt takes her left leg, holding it up at the side, and swaying his hips up between her thighs, careful to make contact with her clit by grinding between thrusts. Aria chokes again, and she screams suddenly, a light, warm sprinkling making contact with his pubic area. Geralt laughs mischievously, and suddenly Aria buries her face in his chest with embarrassment. Geralt forces her to look at him again when he speeds up the same way he did before, abruptly and deftly swiping her growing G spot from inside. Aria screams again and squirts, her legs shuddering.

“Mmmm,” Geralt sighs, “So tight,” he adds, inhaling sharply through his teeth, “And you came for me twice already.” It isn’t hard to find a woman’s G-spot. Geralt knew all the parts of almost any beast a person could imagine, thus he knew a woman’s weak spot. He fucks her G aggressively now, assuming that since he made her come a few times, she’d be able to handle the speed, but she grabs his upper arms and throws her head back, wincing.

“It hurts!” Aria wails.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt pants, clutching the back of her head and looking at her with apology again. The sensations are a bit too overwhelming for Aria. Geralt had slowed his thrusts, calming her again with kisses and his hands, massaging her back. She wanted him to stop then. The first two orgasms had been extreme, and it became painful again when he tried to fuck her hard. Geralt is gentle once more, shushing her, lying Aria on her back now. This new position seems to allow him to be in complete control. She begins to feel nervous.

“Geralt, please,” she breathes, pushing on his chest.

“It’s going to feel good—I promise,” he states, pulling Aria’s leg up again.

“No—I need to st-stop,” she cries, praying he won’t seemingly lose control on her again. She can tell that this is more pleasurable for the witcher than it is for her. The stretching sensation of Geralt’s thick cock going deep makes Aria’s eyes roll back suddenly. Geralt flexes his cock inside her, making contact with Aria’s G spot mercilessly. He flexes repeatedly, making himself even bigger, and she felt some wetness leaving her when she came repeatedly. He had been right. It does feel good. But her body still struggles to acclimate, spasming repeatedly all around Geralt’s shaft and head. He moans each time she has an orgasm, and shortly, she realizes that her orgasms are themselves pleasuring him, too.

They orgasm repeatedly together, every time Geralt forces Aria to squirt. She hadn’t previously known she was capable of this. Her legs are over his shoulders now, and he explores her cunt at an even deeper angle. Aria finds herself panting, crying Geralt’s name, euphoria all over her body. The pain is very minimal now.

“You’re bleeding,” Geralt states, his voice still calm, as it had been before, but breathier, enough that Aria can hear the effort he’s putting into pleasuring her. He wipes some of the blood off his pelvis before winding his fingers into Aria’s and fucking her to another earth-shattering orgasm. His large hands forcing her knees apart when they close at his sides, makes Aria wetter. He was so dominant, and she liked it. She comes again and Geralt pulls his throbbing cock out completely, abruptly. It felt strange to suddenly be so empty. She feels a sudden rush of warm fluid upon her navel—just a splash—before Geralt rolls to his back beside her. She opens her eyes to find him stroking his cock, finishing himself off. He had wanted to do it inside of her. Badly. But knew better than to spill his seed where he had not asked. It was surprising to Aria, the volume that he came. It seemed that the pearly, thick, white ropes would never end. He finally allows his head to collapse where he’s resting.

He doesn’t seem to mind her blood being on him. He’d been covered in far worse. He wipes some of it out of his pubes and takes a whiff, closing his eyes in pleasure. He turns to look at Aria all over, his eyes still hungry. Yet there’s concern there.

“Did I hurt you very badly, my love?” he asks.

A growing soreness emerges in Aria’s sex. Still catching her breath, she can’t find the words to describe what had just transpired between the two of them.

“I wasn’t trying to cause you pain…You are just so fuckingtight…” Geralt’s eyes roll closed again and he sighs satisfactorily, his erection finally deflating. He pulls Aria into his arms. He had pleasured her morein fifteen minutes than she’d ever done herself in the course of one month.

“I’m okay,” Aria states quietly.

“It will feel very good the next time, my love,” Geralt explains in his sexy, husky voice.

She hadn’t known what to expect, honestly. No one had ever really taught Aria anything about sex, other than that it was meant for procreation, and that the man must be on top. This was her one request that Geralt had entirely honored by letting her start off on top of him. Although, he isn’t sure how much control it gave Aria the impression of, considering he still towered over her during the position.

“The next time, you should let me spend more time down here—”

Aria pulls Geralt’s hand away from her vagina. She still doesn’t like to be touched here very much, he learned. He sighs longingly.

“Have I not told you what would feel good?”

Aria turns her eyes away from him shyly, pulling the sheet up her shoulder.

“You have. I just don’t think I—”

“If you had let me pleasure you with my tongue first, it may not have been painful for you at all,” he explains, wanting her to understand why he’d even wanted to taste her in the first place. She hadn’t let him. No. Aria simply could not have imagined his handsome, beautiful face right next to her sex, the very thing she had always been taught to feel shame for. But Geralt liked her cunt, clearly. He wanted to put his tongue inside it. Things couldn’t have gotten more intimate than this.

“The next time, you will let me prepare you better.”

He simply decides this. Aria blushes shyly.

“In the meantime,” Geralt starts, gripping Aria’s hip, “Can I take you again?” Geralt asks. Aria’s eyes widen. She gazes beneath the blanket to find that he is fully erect again.

“I’m not sure if I can—”

“I need you,” he explains, shifting atop Aria in the bed. Geralt moans with desperation, trembling above her. She gasps when he parts her legs. He had not been flaccid more than a minute before wanting to start again.

“I can’t,” Aria admits, pressing firmly his chest, stopping him. She’s still reeling from all of the sensations he had caused her to feel. Every sense is ignited. Geralt inhales deeply, pressing his lips to Aria’s forehead. He had entirely overwhelmed her. It’s somewhat surprising to Aria when Geralt rolls onto his back again and continues to masturbate. He keeps his eyes on her body, the amber orbs fliting to a breast, a thigh, anywhere that he longed to be touching her, had he not been so focused on himself. She rather likes watching the witcher get off to her. Knowing he wants her. The power in this moment causes Aria to smile. He seemed so desperate. It was then that she realized just how much power she had over the mutant.

[no-droids]

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal​

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!

A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you.  Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

The sky is so pretty.  There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky.  It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.

You should probably be running.  Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk.  It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs.  Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day.  You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow.  So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.

You know what your goal is.  Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you.  Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day.  Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob.  He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.

That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him?  At what point does it stop?  You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.

You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance.  There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now.  You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.

“Excuse me!”  It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer.  “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”

She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile.  “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came.  “Osiruu is a few hours that way.  There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital.  I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction.  “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view.  I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”

So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted.  You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then.  Which path should you take?

Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her.  But then all of a sudden, you remember something.

Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo.  Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people.  Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring.  But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists.  The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.

You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be.  Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life.  You never pictured yourself as the fighting type.  When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that.  Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.

“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?”  You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile.  “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”

Your footprints will lead directly there.  He’ll find you easily.

“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile.  Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend.  “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey!  I hope we meet again.”

“Do you need any food or supplies?”  She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by.  “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II.  I’d be glad to help.”

Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady?  She seems like… you, almost.  Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs.  You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.

“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet.  “Wanna trade shoes with me?”

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible.  You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad?  Are you just an idiot with no hope?  You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes?  You’re screwed.

At least there’s food here.  Plenty.  There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business.  Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong.  There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.

It’s a lovely tune.  You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors.  Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic.  The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is.  Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.  You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.

Suddenly you see shoes—yes.  Fucking shoes, your salvation.  You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many.  Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design.  It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear.  Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.

“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up?  And another that’s the same but in men's?”

The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper.  His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.

Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder?  One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to?  That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that.  You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.

When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist.  There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss.  Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.

Alright then.  Through the forest, you suppose.  You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again.  You have a finger point, that’s all you need.  Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over.  It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.

“Last call for the seven o’clock!”  A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach.  “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”

The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it.  “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.

“Ah!”  The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors.  He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit.  “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”

“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle.  “Oh, no.  I think I lost my wallet.”

He sighs.  “Off the bus then please, miss.  Come back tomorrow if you find it.”

You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off.  “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”

The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions.  “I’m sorry?  Please—off the bus.”

“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier.  The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them.  “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”

“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste.  Everyone is polite here, it seems.  “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place.  Please get off the bus.”

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.

Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self.  Eliminate the need for a back pathing.  All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers.  You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do.  You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.

Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink.  You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left.  You want him to see the sky.

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one.  The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all.  No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together.  You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.

Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches.  Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell.  It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then.  Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.

The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide.  The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind.  You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds.  Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway.  How do you lose him?

You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated.  Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack.  There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick.  Sturdy.

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up.  Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck.  It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.

Oof, this is dangerous.  You know it even before you start.  The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.

Okay.  Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need.  You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn.  If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?

You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty.  You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again.  This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.

And it was fun.

You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot.  You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.

Water, though.  Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be.  Water is an eroder.  Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.

Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees.  You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain.  The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it.  You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can.  It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.

That means you’re… fuck.  You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?

It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water.  The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall.  You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go.  With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it.  It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found.  This… this is doable.

Okay.  If you pull this off, you’re a badass.  If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation.  This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.

You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot.  Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.

You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further.  Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself.  The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet.  It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.

Shit.

Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.

“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again.  “Answer me.”

You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond.  So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak.  You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below.  “Uh.  Ahem.  Hello.  Yes?”

“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you.  “Or something on your side is too loud.  There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”

You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about.  It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again.  You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.

“Are you already on the move?”  You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.

“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before.  Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something?  Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good?  It’s like it’s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough.  “Ready or not.”

You huff, your tummy going warm.  Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to.  If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended.  You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult.  “But I’m… sleepy.”

“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.

“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do?  This isn’t fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well.  Fair.

Stars, you can’t stay here.  You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk.  You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem.  Din is going to hear you no matter what.

“Um.  Can you give me a second?”  You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this.  Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.

“What?”  Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.

“I need to… mute myself.  Give me like… five minutes.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more.  That’s a long way.  You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep.  Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.

It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths.  You have a time limit now, you have to do this.

With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.

It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.

You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.

The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second.  The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.

Okay.  Okay, fucking success.  It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.

“Mando?”  You ask, slightly out of breath.  “Sorry about that, I’m back.”

Okay, now which way do you go?  Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with.  As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.

After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you.  You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing.  “Hello?  Shiny?”

“Did you trade shoes with someone?”  Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile.  “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”

“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment.  “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again?  Good idea, but the execution needs work.”

Maker, he’s smart.  It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely.  Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do.  You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today.  You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.

Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of.  The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right?  Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.

You want to go to Nariss.  The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance.  Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.

“Alright.  Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit.  You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat.  “How’s the baby?  Behaving himself?”

“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right.  You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.

“You’re joking.”  No fucking way, not that little demon.

“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly.  “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times.  Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”

That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along.  He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back.  Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change?  That has to be it, right?

“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father.  “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”

You hear it.  The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet.  It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.

On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.

“What’s that sound?”

You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees.  Shit.  “Uh.  What sound?”

You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything.  Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it?  It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is?  Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail?  Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?

Oh well, too late now.  You quickly decide to change the subject.

“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make.  “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good.  Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mm.  Doubt it,”  immediately comes his low response.  Fucking immediately.

“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.

“Are you having fun?”  Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction.  You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth.  Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask.  Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have?  Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.

“I am,” you say warmly.  “Be… be better if you were here, though.”

“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.

You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing.  “Psh.  Nice try.”

“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.

“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes.  He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.

And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours.  He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—

“What’s your favorite food?”  (“I don’t have one.”)

“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?”  (“I don’t like food that much.”)

“What do you mean?  Everyone loves food.”  (“Not me.”)

“Alright, well um.  What’s your favorite color, then?”  (“I don’t have one, either.”)

“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.”  (“What’s your favorite color?”)

“…Brown.”  (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)

—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.

***

Day 1–6:15am:

You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be.  Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light.  Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them.  All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.

Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier.  The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.

The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing.  If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right?  You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time.  This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.

***

Day 1–7:06am:

You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road.  The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed.  You want a city.  This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines.  Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.

Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows.  As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter.  “Hey.”

“Holy shit, what?”  You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you.  You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

Ah.  So he got to the bus, then.  Okay.

“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile.  Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.

“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say.  Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult.  “Which one of these is yours then?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full.  “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”

The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.

He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle.  Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.

His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.

With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh.  Oh stars, you’re tired.

You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains.  You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest.  You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.

The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental.  It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped.  Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes.  The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead.  Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough.  You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.

You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in.  It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be.  The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own.  He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop.  He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.

But that only goes so far.  You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.

There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think.  It’s hard to see.  Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders.  That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right?  Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up?  Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…

***

Day 2–12:00am:

Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.

“Wake up.”

It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it.  You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy.  “Fuck, how’d you—”

“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.

“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more.  “Shit.  How d’you… mm.  Stay awake all the time…”

“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking.  “You need rest.  I’ll see you soon.”

No—

“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright.  Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now.  Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are.  Things still feel like a dream, somehow.

You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause.  “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up.  You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it.  “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”

“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you.  You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull.  So warm, so gentle.  If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest.  “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”

“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur.  Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect.  “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”

“Sure you did.  You in another tree?”

You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset.  “You makin’ fun of me?”  You ask him with a harumph.  Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.

“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know.  Is that displeasure or not?  It’s not immediately clear.  Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now?  Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it?  “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”

“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back.  You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright.  It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.

“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it.  “What’s sixteen times itself?”

You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that.  You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember.  Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart.  Sixteen times sixteen.  One forty-four.  No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—

You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.

“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh.  “I won’t move until you wake up.  Go to sleep.  You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”

Later, this moment will come back to you.  That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six.  You don’t even think Din would.  You would, though.  On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up.  You should know this.  And he knows you.

But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.

“You promise?”  You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.

“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless.  He doesn’t have to do this.  You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.

“Will you, um…” your expression furrows.  How do you say this?  You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out.  “I’m… not in a bed.  I’m outside.”

Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy.  You want him to stay.  Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.

You don’t need to ask.

“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt.  “Sleep, sweet girl.  I’m right here.”

***

Day 2–5:34am:

The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck.  Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.

You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time.  Wait.  Don’t panic.  Listen.

Breathing.  Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black.  He’s… asleep.

Din is asleep?  Seriously?

You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out.  You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen.  Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it.  Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much.  You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box.  It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost.  Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again.  Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.

You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator.  This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it.  He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back.  If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful.  He didn’t mean to fall asleep.

And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this.  You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up.  But… these circumstances are their own.  You have to capitalize now, this is your chance.  You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight.  That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.

You have to find Nariss—you have to.  It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him.  Now is the time to hide.  You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.

The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then.  As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy.  “Mm?”

“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.

“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act.  “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”

“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.

“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head.  Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?

“Yeah, I…”  He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it.  “How long have you been up?”

Op.  Not good.  “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it.  “How long?”

How in Maker’s name?  This is impossible.  How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him?  Can you salvage this somehow?  “…Like ten minutes.”

“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak.  “That was smar—”

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

Oh.  Well.  Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways.  There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up.  Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over.  Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?

“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background.  It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around.  “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though.  He walked home barefoot.”

You smack your forehead.  “It was just….”

“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle.  “Alright, I’m up now.  See you when you get here.”

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh.  What the fuck was that?

No.  Nope, you’re not going to get played.  That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time.  You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore.  You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing.  He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it.  That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it.  Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept.  You’re certain of it.

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

Nariss is big.  Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected.  It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning.  Yes, this will work nicely.

As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?

Oh.  That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time.  If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.

Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion.  You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly?  Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show?  You have to stop worrying about him.  He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.

So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving.  While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation.  You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.

“Do you have some place to stay?”  He asks at one point.  So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect.  He doesn’t need to know.  “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”

This catches your attention, though.  This is relevant.  “What does that mean?”

“It’s expensive?”  He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile.  “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range.  I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks.  It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads.  We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding.  It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”

He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way.  Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes.  He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think.  Someone a little less expressive.  This guy… talks a lot.

“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.

“Sanctuary II is,” he comments.  “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke.  “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle.  You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”

“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?”  You ask.  You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn.  It’ll be the first place Din checks.

“Are you a virgin?”  He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger.  The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that!  It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts.  Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”

“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him.  Good, this is almost over.  “Um.  Yep.  That’s me.”

He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod.  “When you get to the city, just go straight through.  It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day’s walk from this side of town.”

Okay, that’s… interesting.  You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line.  That might actually be a good move.  Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you.  Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right?  He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to.  Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him.  He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it.  Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.

The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly.  “Oh, by the way.  I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.

The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right.  You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store.  Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.

Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside.  You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms.  Oh well, you weren’t complaining.  Fancy clothes for free, score.

But now you’re here, and you have the best idea.  You don’t need to change shoes, not yet.  Why?  Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.

You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you.  It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories.  It’s an eyesore, it sticks out.  But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.

It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters.  Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.

At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left.  I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it.  I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.

It’s to your advantage, he said so himself.  Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.

And there’s another upside, see.  An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now.  If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.

Let him know.  Let him know exactly where you are.  Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling.  If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide.  He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.

The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night.  It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on.  It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal.  Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

Alright, so this was the best idea ever.  This is the shit.

You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you.  You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think?  No, that must be a mistranslation, right?

You’re also in a robe.  Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here.  And… and slippers, it’s like a dream.  Do people normally wear slippers in bed?  You do.  Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase.  This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.

The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways.  You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky.  Violent and periwinkle tonight.  You wonder if he’s looking, too.

Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.

Day 3–12:00am:

“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair.  Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath.  Maker, this feels nice.

“You sound happy,” Din comments.  Astute, you feel happy.  Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here.  Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers.  You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth.  No face, though.  Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.

“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance.  You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.

“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed.  You… miss him.  This mattress would feel softer with him next to you.  He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it.  You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles.  Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.

“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.

“Not a chance,” Din mutters.  “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”  You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you.  “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding.  “Good one.”

You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you.  You love him.  Literally every single time, he just knows.  Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often.  Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again.  “How do you know?”

“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.

Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today?  How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes?  A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal?  You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.

“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you.  “You should be here.  I’d make you feel good.”

Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually.  Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting.  He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him.  He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around.  The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead.  You could all look at the sky together.

Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece.  “Are you in an inn?”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly.  Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie.  You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?

“Hm.”

What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible?  He read you that deeply from one single word?  You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”  You blurt without thinking.

“Doing what?”  He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.

“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?”  You don’t even know what to believe anymore.  How do you beat this?  If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out.  His perception is unbelievable.

After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm.  “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.”  It sounds like he’s smiling.

“I…”  your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”

Din lets out a deep sigh.  He’s right, that was bad, even for you.  “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits.  You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step.  “I’m nowhere near the city yet.  You have time to sleep.”

Your expression furrows and you frown.  “Why are you helping me?”

“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?”  He tosses back, and you huff.

“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.

“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.”  His voice is gruff.  You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing.  “You should give yourself more credit.  I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss.  It’s… not good for me.”

The honesty creeping in makes you go soft.  It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through.  “Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.”  His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.

You say it before you lose the nerve.  “I might just turn around and walk back.”

His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache.  You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are.  People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself.  For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.

“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it.  You feel so… known, somehow.  Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his.  He makes you feel loved with it.  “Never wants to run.”

You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.

But again.  You don’t have to say anything, he already knows.  “Give me your coordinates.”

Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip.  Oh, stars.  You hate that you do genuinely consider it.  He could be here, and very soon.  With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably.  He could take a shower.  Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one.  You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.

Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together.  You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you.  Let him come.  You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.

It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.

“Are you eating the purple fruit?”  You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement.  You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him.  Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone.  You like to think you’re both better that way.  Balanced.

“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.

“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?”  Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.

“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you.  It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it?  This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting.  Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around.  The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.

“You’re alone, right?”  You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit.  He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.

“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts.  His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…

This has a very small chance of success, you already know.  “…Do you want to—”

“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you.  “We can’t.”

Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless.  Should you push it?  You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?

“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip.  It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach.  “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.

“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?

“What are you gonna do?”  You whisper to him devilishly.  Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down.  Stars, your heart is already pounding.  You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason.  He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire.  “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me.  Or you could find me before I’m finished.  Come make me stop.”

Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to.  The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.

You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels.  You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.

“Do you want to listen?”  You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond.  Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing.  “I’ll talk.”

Still, nothing from him.  Dead silence through the comm.  You’re starting to understand.  For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice.  He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.

You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.

“Hm.  If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu.  You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.

Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece.  “No, don’t even think—”

“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen.  “Take pictures.”

He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement.  When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy.  “…You wouldn’t.”

Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now.  “Oh shit, does this holocall?  Or is it a video option?”

“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”

“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him.  “Pick up.”

Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear.  “What if I don’t?”

You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious.  He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you?  Really?

“You sure?”  You ask softly, raising an eyebrow.  “You’d get to see me, where I am.  What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”

The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop.  You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all.  Did he decline the transmission request?  No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before.  Why can’t you see him?

“Why can’t I see you?”  You ask.  You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.

“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath.  “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”

Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist?  Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?

“Nobody can see me but you?”  You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows.  You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible.  “Can you see… this?”  You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.

“Where are you?”  Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.

You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more.  “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”

“Why?”  Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier.  “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.”  You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed.  “Can you see that?”

“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet.  Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that.  How do you know he’s telling you the truth?

“What am I doing?”  You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.

“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden.  Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.

You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end.  Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.

“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight.  Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.

“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit.  “Where?”

“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera.  Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.

“Where in Nariss?”  Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.

“I don’t know,” you say again.  Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors.  You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop.  “But the window is open.  And there are lots of people outside.”

“Can they see you?”  Din immediately challenges.  Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that.  You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.

“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him.  It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay.  Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet… all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently.  It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth.  “Does it matter?  I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”

“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?

Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”

“Give me your coordinates—”

“Are you giving up?”  You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following.  You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.

The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator.  Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.

You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself.  Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea.  No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well.  You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place.  Is he just that aroused by you?  Or is there something more?

“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again.  Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.

His deep, shaky breath is so telling.  Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back.  You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible.  You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.

You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do.  It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.

“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—

“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.

“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell.  He’ll be able to see it, you think.  The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.

“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside.  It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip.  He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.

“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—

“Don’t—”

It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something?  You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless.  It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you.  You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.  You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you.  Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples.  “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious.  “You think—y-you think—”

“What?”  You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious.  Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops.  It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?”   He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet.  “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there?  You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering.  He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now.  “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh.  That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart.  He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you.  Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word.  “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly.  Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down.  “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid.  Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days.  I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss.  You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it.  You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his.  He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey.  “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not?  What have you got to lose?  Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways.  What’s the worst he can do?  Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here.  “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days.  You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you.  You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table.  It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!

[puffpasstea]

Matilda

Read Chapters 1-8 here.

A/N: This is the penultimate chapter! Finale is out on Friday! If you have made it this far, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! I love you all and love hearing from you. Comments, thoughts, feedback, and criticism all welcome!! Warnings: This is just pure smut and angst with Dom!Harry and his sub. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 9

Over the following three weeks, Harry and I continued sleeping together. We did it in various places: in the trailer, in the library, at his place, at my place.  It was impossible for me to be around him and behave myself. Soon, we’d tried virtually anything we could get our hands on. Some ropes, wax play, whips, chains, paddles. Everything short of knife play, and only because that was my hard limit. Harry’s was waterboarding. It wasn’t the water thing for him, though. It’s just that he always worried he might not pull me out of it fast enough. Even after reading up on safety for a week. He did once force me to stand under the cold shower water as a quick punishment, though. Which was fun…for him.

We’d fallen into something of a routine. He’d drop by with meals sometimes, to make sure my depression wasn’t preventing me from taking care of myself, and we’d hang out, eat, he’d fuss over me for a bit, remind me to take my meds, get stern with me if and when I forgot, and we’d discuss whatever we were reading, books I’d leant him, and somehow, ultimately, end up in bed. I knew that wasn’t the healthiest way of dealing with my emotions. I also worried I’d eventually grow dependent on him and the dynamic that had emerged between us – which only deepened every time that we had sex– but, I had a new consult appointment set up with a therapist soon, and, in the meantime, why not indulge in a little mutual satisfaction?

***

“Please,” I’d given up on trying to sound calm and composed in bed after making the discovery that I much preferred the mixture of embarrassment and pleasure that came with Harry forcing me to beg and plead. 

My voice was breathy and high pitched. I could see that Harry loved hearing it. 

“Please w-what?” He was also struggling to keep it together at this point.

“Please, sir, can I move? You feel so good and so big- it burns. I need to move.”

His face lit up. He must have as much of a praise kink as I now know I do. He always let it show that he delighted in my compliments. Which, admittedly, did not come often enough. He was too beautiful. It’d get to his head.

“Go on, baby. Ride me. Show me how good you want me to feel.” 

***

“I need you to breathe, Darlin.’ This isn’t going to work if you don’t.” Harry’s commanding tone cut through the noise in my mind.

“Please don’t burn me.” I cried. Looking back on it, it was probably an irrational thing to say. But it felt real and valid in the moment.  I did, honestly, feel like he was burning me alive.

Harry had blind-folded me for the first time, too. I couldn’t see what he was doing to me. For all I know, he might have been setting me on fire.

I could tell that Harry had squatted down to my level by how close his voice now got to my ear. “Do you trust me, babe?” He wiped my tears away with his thumb.

“Y-yes, sir. It just feels so intense.”

I felt Harry undo the blindfold from behind my head, then I felt it loosen and slip off my face.

“Open your eyes for me, honey. I wanna show you something.” My eyes fluttered open. He was, indeed, right next to me. The second that we locked eyes, I felt myself start to breathe again.

Harry brought the wax candle up to my face. “Look here. You can hold it.” He undid the cuffs off one hand so I could move it. 

I took the candle from him.

“Go ahead, pour it on my body. Any place you want.” He offered.

“Any place?” I raised my eyebrows suggestively.

Harry picked up on what I meant. “Well, almost any place.” he laughed. “Though, for you, I could probably be convinced to pull down my underwear right now…”

I ignored his last comment. “How about below your ribs? Just the way you were doing it to me.” That seemed like a fair trade to me.

He took off his shirt in response and laid down on the bed in the same position I’d just been in.

I tilted the candle and watched it pour hot, freshly-melted wax on Harry’s body. He winced slightly but kept his eyes fixed on mine, smiling through the pain. I later learned that Harry has never put anything on or in my body without testing it on his own body first. I didn’t know that at the time.

“S-see? It dries on the skin pretty quickly. Go ahead. Touch it, if you like.” I scratched the  hardened pool of wax off of his skin.

“I- know, Harry. It just felt so…” I suddenly felt silly for the way I’d reacted.

Harry sat back up and put a hand on my cheek. Stroking it softly. “The reason that it felt much more intense on your ribs than when we did it on your hand the other day is because your skin is more sensitive here. So it feels more painful. You know what I mean?”

I nodded, taking in the explanation and relaxing more and more.

“I’d never do ANYTHING to hurt you. Believe me.”

“I- I know.”

“You need to trust me. Otherwise we can’t be doing this freaky shit together. I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if I ever crossed a line, or…”

“I trust you. I promise. Just got scared for a moment…that’s all.” I kissed him to prove it.

He made me remember our safewords and repeat them back to him before we resumed play.

Later that night, I apologized for almost ruining the fun and he scolded me for apologizing. “Proud of you for pausing when you felt you needed to.” He kissed my forehead.

***

“Really oughtta punish you for misbehavin’.” Harry grabbed me by the arm, tossing me into the bathroom stall and shutting the door behind us. “Drivin’ me wild with your hands in front of all these people. What’s gotten into you?” He pressed his lips to mine harshly, then broke the kiss to bite on my lower lip.

I mewled softly, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. “Please punish me.” I moaned.

“Please? You LIKE being a bad girl? Breakin' the rules?” He spun me around and yanked the skirt of my dress upwards, revealing my lace underwear, which I’d paired with this dress especially for him.

“N-no. But I’ll take a punishment if that’s what it takes to get you to touch me.” I gasped as he spanked me. He was getting ready to deliver another hit, but he paused once he’d heard my words. “I’ve needed you all day." I went on, "You weren’t there when I woke up, and I’ve had the shittiest day…” 

Harry spun me back around to be able to look into my eyes. He put a hand on my shoulder to create distance between our bodies. The expression on his face had changed from one of dominance and seduction to one of concern. “Why? What’s going on? Did you remember to take your meds this morning? Did you eat? Know how you get with food when you’re depressed-”

“Stop, stop. I ate, I took my meds. I promise. Just need you.”

“It isn’t that whole ‘sub frenzy’ thing I warned you about, is it? Honestly, I shouldn’t have left you. It’s all my fault. You and your ridiculous 'no-sleepover' rule”

“I was asleep when you left! What were you supposed to do? Watch me sleep? That’s creepy! Please don’t blame yourself, you know aftercare is always good with you.” I wasn’t wrong. And he knew it. The first time that Harry had started helping me clean up and coaxing me back after sex, I couldn’t keep my emotions together. No guy I’d ever been with before had ever done that for me. He always spoiled me unreservedly. “Only couples do sleepovers. We’re not a couple, remember?” 

Harry mumbled something under his breath. 

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. How can I help now, then?”

“Need you.”

Harry dropped his pants, spread his legs, and patted his right thigh. “Hop on. And make it quick. I don’t have all day. We gotta get back out there.”

“What? No, I need YOU.” I whined and attempted my best sad eyes hoping to soften him and get my way.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, grind your cunt on my thigh, NOW!”

Everything about this felt humiliating in the best way.

****

It was the day after we’d spent all night pushing both our limits. I’d asked Harry to be extra rough this time. He relished a good challenge, so he gave it to me strong. By the time we were done, I had bruises and marks all over my wrists, ankles, neck, breasts, thighs, and ass. I was practically wincing and squirming any time he tried to touch me. Harry, though, took his role very seriously. It never ended after both, or, one of us, had finished. He always saw to it that I’d recovered nicely. Whether that meant leaving me extra snacks in the pantry, or writing a little note on a post-it to keep with me and look at whenever I was starting to freak out, or calling the next day to check in and discuss what I liked or disliked about what we did.

In this case, he’d showered with me, dressed me in a shirt of his that I’d stolen, and that he often wore whenever he was at my place (I never told him I liked him doing that because of the way the shirt would smell like him  after he’d worn it, and I could hold on to it whenever he wasn’t around, but I think he may have figured it out on his own), and wrapped me in a blanket in front of the TV. We grazed on some leftover pizza, and Harry kept a watchful eye on me as I gulped down a smoothie he’d made me. He was very particular about what I ate during aftercare. Insisting that some types of food were better at balancing out my brain chemistry than others. We had the TV on but weren’t actively watching. Harry spent the night whispering sweet words into my ear,  pretending to only be kissing my temple but actually peeking over me to see if I was still drinking my smoothie. My eyelids felt heavy with sleep. I looked at the clock on my living room wall.

“It’s getting late, c’mon, you gotta go.” I patted Harry’s shoulder. He’d almost dozed off with me in his lap.

“Oh, but I’m so comfy here.” He protested, his eyes still closed.

“No, you know the rules. No sleepovers, remember?”

“But, you might still need me.” I knew it bothered him that I wouldn’t let him stay. He never let me forget that he’d like to be my boyfriend. Often working himself up and getting jealous of every guy he ever saw me talking to. At one point even letting slip that he loves me. I let him do it at first because it seemed harmless to allow him to vent, as long as we were both clear on the reality of our relationship. But he sometimes took it too far.

“Oh, get over yourself, Harry Styles.” I rolled my eyes playfully.

“Fiiiine. I’ll go.” 

He was right, though. I did still need him. That floaty, fuzzy feeling never quite went away. And, the next morning, when I arrived on set and my eyes landed on him, saying his lines passionately in front of the camera, that feeling got a hundred times worse. All I wanted, all day long, was for him to wrap his arms around me, to tell me that he had fun last night, to make sure nothing had changed between us. However, I knew that wasn’t possible. We’d discussed the possibility of this drop happening. Harry had drilled into my head, all the stuff he’d read about while researching BDSM. I did my own homework too. It just hadn’t happened at all, so we never quite put  together a concrete plan. 

On top of that, being at work made the guilt about lying to Christopher front and center in my mind. I knew I had to break up with him. But it was difficult to do it when he’d been nothing but good to me, and I had no real reason to break it off. Maybe it was the subdrop thinking, but feeling this badly, not being able to rush over to Harry for comfort like I was meant to, and lying to Christopher in the process….It wasn’t helping anyone, and it was definitely hurting us all. I needed to do it tonight. I wanted my conscience clean when asking Harry to be with me.

I felt my phone buzz with a text from my mom. She was asking if she could call me tonight. I read her text and went on to text Christopher to meet me at the library after work.

“Hey there, Matilda” Harry approached me, smiling and munching on an apple between takes. I searched the depths of my mind for a single thought that didn’t pertain to him, but I came up empty. My head was foggy and satiated with him. I wished he’d lean over and hold me.

For reasons beyond my comprehension, I reached out and attempted to hold his hand.

“Wh-what’re you doing? Not here…okay?” He resisted, blushing instantly and pulling away.

“Y-yeah, you’re right. Sorry.” His resistance cleared the fog away. And not in a good way. This clarity was about self-restraint and disappointment. I had no one to blame but myself. I put myself in this position. He’s done nothing but respect my wishes. So, why am I feeling heartbroken right now?

“You wanna drop by the trailer after? I’m off the clock in about two hours. Might still have it in me for a quickie.”

“Quickie” and “have it in me,” weren’t the words of comfort that I was seeking right now.

“Ummm…I have plans with Christopher, actually. But come by later?” I smiled at his apple-crunching face, his cheeks bulging, him trying not to speak with his mouth full. It was adorable.

“Sounds good.” He mumbled, swallowing harshly.

Harry had tried to push me to end it with Christopher before, but I often deflected by reminding him how hot being secretive felt. I knew it bothered him, but I didn’t want to rock the boat by discussing anything openly. The sooner we could change the subject, the better for both of us. Kissing him, or calling him “sir” often got his mind off the topic. Even if it was cruel of me. I knew he wished I'd take the leap and give us a chance at a relationship.

 So, I couldn’t wait to surprise him tonight by telling him that I’d finally done it- found the guts and ended it with Christopher. I took to planning all the things we could do and say to each other after it’s all done, as a way to soothe myself and get through the day without letting thoughts of Harry consume me.

***

Christopher and I had a shorter talk than expected. I imagined myself having to go through every detail of my as-of-yet-undefined relationship with Harry. But when Christopher said that he’s been feeling me pull away for a while, and I told him that maybe it was because I feel conflicted about being attracted to someone else, he asked if it was Harry, telling me to make sure I spoke to Harry soon because he probably feels the same way. I may have been willingly blinding myself to the truth about the way Harry and I felt, I was but  Christopher had seen the way Harry looked at me. I didn’t want to ruin their friendship, especially with filming almost drawing to a close, so I said nothing more. It scared me to throw away a stable and simple relationship with Christopher, and it felt like I was also throwing away the potential of one day being the sort of normal, stable adult that would thrive in a relationship with a guy like him. It was, however, hard to regret that when I thought about Harry. Finally being in his arms tonight. The look on his face when I'd ask him to be with me. It was all worth it.

I practically jogged home that night, eager for Harry to come by for the good news. The longer I thought about being in his arms and sleeping by his side, and never having to kick him out of my apartment in the middle of the night again, the floatier I felt. All I wanted was to lay on top of him and trace over his tattoos with my fingers. The anticipation clouded my head even more.

***

“I’ve bought a new vibrator for us to try.” Harry skipped the small talk and cut straight to the sex talk.

He must have noticed my face because he frowned as soon as he walked in.  “Everything alright?” He set down the duffle bag that he affectionately calls my ‘aftercare kit.’ I always found it endearing how obsessive he was about lugging that thing around.

“Yeah. Long day, you know how it is. Have a seat please. I have something to tell you.”

“Oh yeah? Me too!” he plopped himself down on my couch.

“Well, what is it? You go first.” I insisted, not wanting anything to rush me through the news.

“My ex called. Might go see her when I get back from filming.”

I felt like my heart had been stabbed with a knife. The one who called you selfish? I thought about reminding him. The one who called you 'an arrogant son of a bitch?' but “Oh” was all I had to say.

“Anyway, What did you wanna say?”

“Me? Nothing. Uh, my mom is going to call in a minute. It won’t be long though. Nothing’s changed, so there really isn’t much to say.”

“At least you’re talking though. That’s good, right?”

“Yeah…yeah, sure. It’s good.” 

How the hell did we end up here? Regretful thoughts swarmed my brain. Was I supposed to still tell him about Chris? Should I just be glad that he’d be with someone who isn’t as demanding and needy as me? Has fate decided things for me? Is this a sign to let him be?

“Don’t worry. You’re gonna be fine.” he rubbed my back.

I went into the bedroom to take the call with my mom. I wasn’t wrong. The call was short and as antagonistic as the last time we’d spoken. I fled the room into Harry’s arms, but, unbeknownst to him, my mother wasn’t what I was crying about. 

“Want you to hurt me tonight.” I spoke with my face buried in his chest. “Really hurt me. Don’t let me have a single thought.”

[butwhyduh]

Bar light

Roy Harper x reader

Warning: alcohol mentioned, smut, fighting, verbally abusive ex

The smell of tobacco, tequila, and beer stained leather were practically familiar at this point. The classic rock played as a common melody. You swirled your finger on the ring of a glass of whiskey neat you had impulsively ordered. It tasted awful but the burn felt better than the heartache so you took another sip.

The bell at the bar rang and a small group of people walked in. They wore a motley assortment of leather outerwear and bandannas. A man and woman walked up to the bar together, clearly a couple. And another man, a bit younger than the pair, sat at a table roughly and sat a full bow on the table. You couldn’t help but stare.

Everyone was packing some kinda heat around here with all the cowboys and rednecks but usually they were hand guns or knives. Maybe they were hunters. Sometimes they came around to hunt the white tail deer and generally fuck off to the country for the weekend.

Maybe you had your heart broken a little to freshly or the whiskey was finally in your brain, but you couldn’t help but look the stranger up and down. He got a water and downed half of it immediately. He had dark red hair and freckles and arms so fucking ripped that you knew he was strong as fuck. When a fit man walks into your bar all alone, the temptation to introduce yourself was strong.

“Hi,” you said, sitting in the seat across from him. The bonus of having your heart ripped out is knowing this guy could never say anything as mean as what you’ve already heard. He looked up at you with bright green eyes and a nod.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” you continued as you eyed him obviously. His lip curled up at you in a lazy smile.

“I’m not from around here,” he answered.

“Wanna a drink?” You asked. “A real drink?”

“No,” he replied and your eyebrows rose. Was he really being a cunt right now? “I have a much better idea of things I’d like to get lost in,” he replied while eyeing you over. You wrapped a hand around his bicep and slid your fingers along the muscles while eyeing him.

“I’m listening.”

He smirked. “How about I show you instead? You got a room around here?”

“Yeah, I know a place where we can be alone,” you said and he stood up and slung his bow over his back. You stood and finished your drink. This was so far out of character but you figured life was already fucking you over, might as well get some orgasms too. You pulled him out the side door and the outer screen slammed ignored.

You pulled him to an old trailer. Wood paneling and 1970s style curtains hung on the windows. You opened the door and he didn’t think twice about joining you. It was small and cramped but clean inside. His head almost touched the ceiling.

“Sit,” you suggested as you pulled out an old record to play. He lounged know your bed and watched you turned the music up deafeningly loud.

“You’re not too drunk are you?” He asked.

“Nah I’ve been nursing that one drink all evening,” you admitted while dancing.

“Good,” he commented while pulling you on his lap and into a kiss. His lips pressed against yours messily and he groaned when you let him slip his tongue inside. His hands kneaded your hips and pulled you to press against him. It didn’t take long for his mouth to move down your throat to lick, nip, and suck at the skin.

You pulled in a gasp of air before breathing out, “your name? What’s your name?”

“Roy,” he murmured against your skin. You pushed at the leather coat on his shoulder and he shrugged it off, forgotten. His hands, warm, slid under your shirt to hold your waist as he pulled you even tighter.

“Let me know if you don’t want this,” Roy said before gently nibbling your ear.

“I want this,” you replied as you shoved him to the mattress. You pulled at his shirt and he yanked it off his head. You stared at his body. A spattering of freckles and assortment of of scars covered his muscular chest. Your fingers automatically ran along the divot of his abs. Roy looked up at you like a pleased cat.

“You just want to admire or…” he teased. You shut him up by pulling your shirt off. Roy hummed in approval. His eyes followed the shape of your tits and the rise of your chest. He didn’t focus on scars or marks or any flaw you may see there yourself. He pulled you down to kiss more.

You wasted no time pulling at his belt buckle and Roy huffed out a laugh while pulling it open. As you unzipped his fly and cupped his dick, Roy pushed your pants down your legs. He was hard and warm in your hand.

“Let me,” he said, pushing his hips up to slip his pants and boxers off. He grabbed his wallet and pulled out a condom. You took it from his hand with a wink and he put his hands up to let you. You rolled it along his length and shed off any remaining clothing. Roy moved to grab your hips and turn you both.

“I want to ride you,” you breathed and he hummed approval.

“Babygirl, you can use me however you need. This cock is yours,” Roy purred while staring at you shamelessly. It was intimidating but also so fucking empowering that he was so hot for you.

You climbed up to straddle his lap and slowly sat on his dick. You slowly moved while little sounds escaped your mouth as he stretched you. It had been awhile since you had a new partner and Roy was far from small. He looked so good beneath you too. Firm chest and stomach and arms totally ripped and covered in tattoos. Even in the dim light in the trailer you could see his freckle covered skin flushed with color.

“Oh baby girl, you feel fucking fantastic,” he said as you bottomed out. You breathed through the stretch until the urge to move was overwhelming. Your hips started moving and bouncing.

Roy’s hands were everywhere, on your hips, gripping your ass, plating with your tits, and pushing your hair from your face when you bent to kiss him. The rough pads of his fingers cupped your cheek as he kissed you.

You started grinding down on him with your clit rubbing his body. It felt amazing and you moaned as you rode him. “Fuck yeah, baby. Use me,” he groaned. He moved his hand down to rub his thumb along your clit and the first stroke pulled a startled gasp from you.

Your hips tried to keep up but couldn’t push yourself over the edge. You made a frustrated sound and Roy gripped your hips and pulled you along faster like you liked. “Fuck yeah,” you breathed as you planted your hands on his chest. “Don’t stop, I’m close,” you breathed. He nodded and made little groans as he pushed you both over the edge.

You gripped his chest and threw your head back as you came. Roy surged forward to kiss all over your throat as he finished too. He moved your hips through your highs. You all but collapsed on his chest with a pleased laugh. He pushed hair away from your face to kiss you again. You both adjusted to where you laid on your side in his arms and pulled a blanket around you both.

“Well I wasn’t expecting that but I certainly ain’t complaining,” he said.

Before you could answer, the sounds of angry knocking at your door startled you both. Roy looked at you. “If you’ve got an angry boyfriend, I’m not here-“

“No. He’s my ex that won’t go away. Even with a restraining order,” you sighed and Roy noted the worry in your voice and crinkle of your brow. The door was rattled again with the knocking.

“I know you’re fucking in there,” he called out in a mean sing song voice. Roy moved out from under you and started getting dressed.

“What are you-“

“I’m gonna talk to him.”

“I don’t think it’s a good-“

“I’ll talk calmly and he’ll understand. And if not then I’ll persuade him,” Roy replied, sliding his feet in his boots.

“Bitch! Open the door! Or I’ll fucking knock it down,” he yelled and you could tell he was drunk.

“Coming,” Roy said with a grin you couldn’t quite place. Was it a playful one? He opened the door to the trailer and you stayed in the back.

“Who the fuck are you?” Your ex asked.

“I could ask you the same question,” Roy replied. Your ex looked furious.

“Are you fucking kidding me? She’s already whoring around?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about but you need to leave,” Roy replied. “She clearly isn’t interested.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

Roy noticed his fists curling at his side and he ducked out of the way letting the other man punch the trailer hard with his knuckles. Before he could bounce back or react, Roy lightly slapped him across the face. He was clearly playing with him. Your ex tried to grab Roy only to clutch air as his momentum pulled him forward. Roy let him smack his face against the trailer and stepped cleanly out of his way. Your ex all but roared in rage and turned to charge Roy who finally acted first and with a single punch to the head, knocked him out on the gravel.

“Hey,” he said ducking back in the trailer. “You can call the cops on him. He’ll be out for a while. I’ll be gone by the time they get here and you can say it was a concerned citizen helping you out.” Roy winked.

“Wait,” you called out as he started to leave. “How can I get ahold of you?”

“I’ll call you.”

“But you don’t have my number.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get ahold of you soon enough. Stay safe, yeah? I’ll make sure chuckles over here leaves you alone for good,” he said walking and putting his bow on his back. He walked down the dark road out of town as you watched wondering if you’d ever see him again.