#or ''No one would dare to say a degrading remark about being black or dare to say a degrading remark on Instagram about someone being gay.

[poisonousquinzel]

there's plenty of people in the industry that I think could work as a visual reference / inspo for Harley

but Madonna is like very....very much not one of those people.

[hansensgirl]

baby, but you.

summary. | He hopes you can feel it, because nobody else can heal it but you. Baby, but you.

warnings. | smut, hate fucking (ish), enemies to lover, slight angst, birthdays, degradation, praise, spitting, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, rough sex, yearning, crushing, riding, couch sex, breeding, possessiveness, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI AND DO NOT REPOST MY STORIES.

word count. | 3.6k

pairings. | Bucky Barnes x Reader.

a/n. | happy birthday @asadmarveltrashbag ilysm!!! thank you so much for being there for me since like day one, for being such a good role model and for just being amazing. thank you so much for listening to me rant and giving me advice, i’m so grateful for you. i hope your birthday is amazing today, i love you so much!! don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know.

He stands afar from you. A cold, calculated stare that you’re almost tempted to challenge with your killer one. There are only about two and a half meters of space separating you two, and even that’s not enough. You’re like a cat and a dog, constantly fighting about God knows what. Sometimes it’s the stupidest of things; other times, it’s the most reasonable. Either he has the television on too loud, or you come home too late. The other neighbours… Well, frankly, they don’t live here anymore.

It’s because they can’t handle his screaming when he has nightmares. You scoffed when you first heard it from your landlord, finding it absolutely insane that nobody is used to the sounds of a nightmare. As if they’re any better. You handle it like a champion, simply just putting on earbuds and your favourite songs at the lowest volume until you fall asleep. You almost feel bad for him when you see him with deep bags under his eyes.

But one short, snarky remark from him has the sympathy in you draining. Almost like the way his hands are the palest colour ever, and his skin doesn’t have the redness it should have. Almost as if the colours on a painting have been scraped off. You shouldn’t be noticing these things, really, but you just can’t help it. He’s almost a shell of the man he once was, at least in his words, but you believe that with some care (not from your hands, ew), he’ll be back to normal.

He shouldn’t notice the way you sigh every time you get home. The way you drag yourself through the carpeted hallway, out from the metal box that Bucky doesn’t trust. He doesn’t charge anything that has to do with heights, so that’s why he’s settled for the second floor. The drop in his stomach brings back so many memories that he can’t bear to remember.

Sometimes, he picks up the rumble of your stomach that he knows you’re embarrassed about, only because when it happens, you become the most fearful sailor to ever cross the shore. You always arrive right before Bucky falls asleep, leaving him at peace. ...No, no, no. It’s not like that. He totally doesn’t wait up until you come home safely before he can actually fall asleep so he can have a sense of calm. No, that’s absurd. Another absurd thing is the ungodly hour that you arrive home.

“Listen, you’re the one who bumped into me, okay? Let’s just leave it at that,” you huff, swinging your keychain between your fingers. Your digits are so soft, only ever coarse when you touch the skin between them. His hands, however, are almost the opposite. They’re rough and dry, but the crevices are a bit damp with sweat from pure nervousness. “No, no, you bumped into me, and we’re going to leave it at that, okay? Okay,” he nods, even though he’s talking to you.

“No, you bumped into me, and that’s that. Goodbye, Mr. Barnes,” you finish, throwing your bag over your shoulder and stomping down the hallways. You don’t look back once, simply just strutting your way to that darned elevator that you loathe. Suddenly, a hand wraps around your arm and turns you around. “I didn’t say you could go; we’re not done until I say we’re done,” he growls, gripping your arm tight enough to have you whimpering.

“No, fuck you. I’m tired of constantly listening to you bitch and moan about things that aren’t even my fault. God, it’s like you’re twenty fucking years old with no maturity, it’s fucking pathetic,” you spit, trying to yank your arm away. But compared to a supersoldier, your strength is equal to a cool spring breeze hitting a concrete building—basically nothing. Bucky’s chest heaves, and for a moment, you’re scared.

But even though he has a temper, he could never hurt you. He’s not the Winter Soldier; you’re sure of it.

His jaw clenches, and you stare at him intensely. Work is long forgotten, just like the fact that today is your birthday. That nervous, jittery feeling that would pool in the pits of your soul isn’t there. You wonder if it’s because you’re all grown up now, or maybe it’s because you’ve been so busy that your birthday seems like any other day in your eyes. Your eyes fall to his lips, almost on instinct. They’re pink and plump, slightly damp from the wetness on his tongue.

He gently pushes you inside his home, and you stumble back in shock. “I have to go to work–” you start, but he cuts you off. “I don’t give a shit. I need to teach you a lesson,” he snaps, pulling off his leather jacket. It has blue hues to it, sometimes grey if shone under the correct lighting. It’s overall black, suiting that dark soul of his that some people claim he has. You keep your mouth shut, clutching onto the strap of your backpack that rests on your right shoulder.

Suddenly, that fiery haze of yours has faded out, and you just watch him dumbfounded. Your jaw is slightly slack, but your eyes aren’t bulging out. Bucky pulls off the unusual leather gloves that always seemed to be a little too big on him. The space between his fingers and the cloth is always too much, and you even contemplated ‘accidentally’ giving him a new, better-fitting pair.

They flop onto the floor with an almost laughable sound, but you know you shouldn’t even dare to crack a smile. “Always going on and on about something. You just need to be shut up for once, don’t you?” Bucky questions, snapping his head towards you. “N- No…” you whisper, looking down to the ground. Suddenly, you prefer looking at wood floors to handsome men such as Bucky.

“Oh… Right, I forgot. You don’t know what’s good for you, that’s why you go to work and come home so late in the night. Bet you don’t have any time to fuck around with those pathetic twenty-year-old douchebags. That’s why you touch that little pussy of yours before you head to work, right?” he questions, and you gulp thickly.

Did he really hear it all?

“Please, I heard the way you finger fuck yourself in the shower all the way here. You really need to learn how to properly lock your door. You’re lucky those old ladies were here when I heard you, or else I would’ve come all the way over there and taught you a real good lesson,” he snaps, and you genuinely feel like doubting every little thing you do. “And you know what’s so funny, doll? I even hear the way you moan my name when you’re about to come,” he whispers, standing so close to you, and you wonder how he even managed to get here.

Your faces are inches away, His warm breath fans against your skin, and Bucky can feel the nervousness seeping through your pores. “Need a refresher? Or are you just going to stay quiet?” he questions, raising his eyebrows. He has a stupid smile on his face, and you’re not sure whether you want to kiss him or slap him. Both seem very appealing, but God, that devil on your shoulder always did have a loud voice.

Your bag joins his gloves on the floor, and you tilt your head upwards to kiss him. Your lips slowly slot against his, the taste of stale coffee immediately fills your mouth as Bucky shoves his tongue past your lips. He cups the side on your face, and your hands remain bent in the air. You don’t know what to do with yourself, so you place them on his shoulders, hoping for the best. He tenses up for a bit, and you start to pull away.

He doesn’t let you go too far. His hands keep you near him, and he stares into your eyes. Blue, blown-out orbs give Bucky an even darker look, and you’re practically sailing the same ship. “Don’t… Don’t go,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. “I won’t, but-” you begin, but he cuts you off with an open-mouthed kiss. It’s so rough, so passionate. Teeth and tongues clash at each other, and you whimper against him as his hands move from your face.

They run down your body before gripping your hips and pulling you closer to him. His front presses against yours, and you can feel his defined muscles through that black t-shirt of his. You wrap your arms around his neck, such a simple act and yet he’s swooning like the lovesick fool he is. No, no, no, he’s not lovesick, and he’s not swooning. He’s just wanting, and that is all, just like you are.

You roll your hips for friction, desperate for something. The faint feeling of Bucky’s hard cock sends shivers down your spine, and you just know he’s huge. He could probably split you in two if he really wants to, and maybe it’s what you want as well. God, just the mental image of his cock sliding in and out of you is so pleasurable. Wetness soaks your panties, and you moan into his mouth.

“Say ‘ah,’ slut,” he mumbles before pulling away from the kiss again. You quickly do so and watch as Bucky puckers his bruised, red lips. You’re not sure what to expect; a stupid, silly kiss or something else. Your tongue is stretched out inside your mouth, and you wait for him as your chest rises and falls. Your eyes watch him as he spits into your mouth, a wad of spit dripping onto your tongue and your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets.

You quickly swallow it as if it’s some sort of antidote to an incurable disease. “Oh, you’re such a dirty fucking girl, aren’t you? I bet you’d let me do anything to you, right? Let me fuck you silly, throw you around, treat you like the spoiled brat you are,” Bucky growls with a fierce smirk on his stupidly gorgeous face. Sculpted by the Gods themselves, you wonder why the world has been so mean to him.

No, no, no, you don’t. You’re just desperate and needy.

“You really are stupid, and I haven’t even touched that little pussy of yours yet, and you can’t even answer a simple li’l question,” Bucky says out loud, expressing pure shame and disgrace. You shake your head before placing your hands back on his hard, defined chest. There’s a specific spot on his chest where the fabric is too sheer. You can see the way his soft hair has been shaved down to a mere stubble, and you wonder what he’d look like if it was grown out.

“I- I’m a dirty girl, I’d let you do anything to me, James,” you whisper to him, looking up at him with unintentional doe eyes. “I know, baby, I know,” he smirks before pushing you backwards. You expect to collide with the wooden floors harshly and startle the downstairs residents, or maybe even on a carpet that would try to break your fall but would end up failing.

You don’t expect to fall back onto a soft, cushioned couch. It’s more so an armchair that is a greyish-blue colour, one that you’d see and Ikea and want so bad, but you’d quickly change your mind once you see the whopping price it’s set at. Bucky towers over you, and you tilt your head up, still watching has the features of his face twitch a bit. His hands run down to your thighs, smoothing over the fabric of your jeans before his nimble yet strong, thick fingers reach to the button and zipper.

He makes quick work of stripping your clothes off for you, and you try your hardest to do the same for him. But flying, clashing hands that are oh so desperate can’t really do much. So as he pulls your wet panties down your feet, you hurriedly kick them to the floor. Bucky pulls his shirt over his head, and you’re not sure if you’ve lost it or if time truly has slowed down. You’re able to memorize each freckle, each scar, each mole and each muscle of his upper body.

He’s beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Though everyone has their measly little flaws that can be so bothersome, in your eyes, he has no flaws. “Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty, baby,” he breathlessly tells you, making you struggle to fight the cheerful smile that forces its way onto your face. “You’re pretty too, James,” you tell him, reaching backwards to unclasp your bra.

Now, there’s nothing special about it, really. It’s plain black, and in some areas, it physically pains you, leaving branded marks behind that feel good when you gently run your hands over them. Nonetheless, you look gorgeous with it on. But when it’s on the floor, treated like nothing, you’re even more beautiful. Your slick has stained your inner thighs with stickiness, and your clit throbs with need.

Bucky parts your legs, watching as strings of wetness pull apart from each other. “Fucking hell, is that all because of me, slut? Say it, tell me who you’re so wet for,” he demands, and your breathing hitches. “S’all for you, James, I’m so wet because of you,” you whisper to him, and he smirks devilishly. You clench around nothing but air, desperate for his cock to be inside you. “I want you so bad, James, please fuck me,” you beg to him desperately, and he chuckles.

Bucky goes to start taking off his pants, unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper that sometimes gets caught onto the fabric of his boxers a little too much. The black fabric slips off his skin like an extra layer of skin, and the sight of his hard cock beneath his briefs is so sexy. You let out a shaky breath, and you can just see how fucking huge he is. Impossibly long with a thickness that’ll leave you limping for at least a week or two.

“You know what’s so fucking hilarious, baby? Just moments ago, you were cursing me out, fuming at me and calling me pathetic, but look at you; you’re the pathetic one here. Practically drooling for my cock, so needy as soon as I put my hands on you,” Bucky scoffs, and you know he’s so right. He pulls down his boxers, and you watch as his cock springs out, slapping his lower abdomen and near his pretty Adonis bone.

He roughly pulls you up and sits down on the couch before dragging you onto his lap. You straddle the sides of his thick thighs, and his big cock presses right next to your pussy, between your legs. Beads of precum drip down the shaft of his cock, and some of it even sticks to your skin. “You want my cock, baby? Well, go ahead, you can have it,” he tells you, resting his hands on your hips.

You exhale nervously, knowing that his cock is gonna stretch you out so much, it’ll be borderline painful and pleasurable. You lift your hips up a bit, and Bucky’s hand grasps the base of his cock. He’s sticky and pulsating, a raging red that is almost purple if you squint your eyes enough. He drags it from your swollen little pearl all the way down to your drooling hole. The mild friction is absolutely amazing, making you moan softly.

Bucky shudders as he slowly pushes the tip of his cock inside of you. He almost wants to tease you so badly, make you beg for it until you’re sobbing and going all ditzy for him. But he’s not all the mean, and he can’t possibly be so cruel to the birthday girl. In one swift motion, Bucky pulls you down onto his cock, burying himself inside of you. You toss your head back and cry out as he stretches you painfully. The wet squelching pounds of your pussy are loud, but your moans are much louder.

He curses and bites down on his bottom lip, falling in love with the way your pussy hugs him tightly and the velvet feeling of your walls. No, no, no, he is not falling in love. He’s just desperate, that’s all. It takes you both a few seconds to adjust, and the painful stretch dulls down to immense pleasure. You struggle to control your breathing, though, because you’ve never taken anyone or anything as big and him. Months of wanting and needing him have finally come down to this, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

He hopes you can feel it because nobody can heal it but you. Every single day he thinks about you, and his heart hurts. His heart hurts when he watches you leave and come home, it hurts when you both fight, and it hurts when he believes you could never love him. His mind still tells him that, and yet here you are, riding his cock on your birthday. He notices the way your bottom lip wobbles a bit, and he pities you.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby, you’re doing so good. Ride my cock, birthday girl, I know you can do it,” Bucky praises with the most innocent smile ever. You nod your head and slowly begin to rock your hips, moving them up and down his cock. Bucky is torn; he doesn’t know whether he should stare at your pretty face or at where you’re both connected. Your slick coats his cock and leaves it glistening, and he watches as it disappears and reappears over and over.

His hand returns back onto your hips, and he gently guides you up and down his cock. Your pained whimpers soon turn to loud, slutty, desperate moans, and Bucky begins to fuck up into your cunt, meeting you at every thrust. “Fuck, yeah, that’s my good girl. Riding my cock so fucking good,” Bucky coos, and you can’t help but giggle. Warmth fills your chest, and pleasure blooms immensely in your core, and it’s the exact same for Bucky.

His balls slap against your ass, and his cock drives in and out of you. You ride him at a quicker pace, moaning loudly, and he nudges against your sweet spot. “You look so fucking sexy riding my cock, baby. Could watch you forever an’ ever,” Bucky purrs, gripping your hips even tighter. Electricity crackles up your spine, almost like a burning wire in a destroyed fuse box. Everything is so sensitive, and the searing pleasure builds up inside the two of you.

Beads of sweat drip down your neck, and it is the same for Bucky. His skin shines just like his cock does, and the veins on the side of it throb with every movement. The wet noises and the sound of skin on skin fills the room almost impressively. The neighbours would’ve already filed noise complaints if they still lived here, but they don’t. So Bucky’ll fuck your brains out until you can’t make a sound.

“Fuck, you’re close, aren’t you? Can feel the way that nice little cunt is squeezin’ my cock,” he groans, staring up at you with his jaw slightly slacked. Your eyes have glazed over, and you stare at Bucky’s face. You ride him using his dick for all your needs and wants. It’s just like you’ve imagined, even down to the pleasure you’re feeling. “Mhm, gonna come all over your big cock,” you whimper at a specific thrust.

And he’s close too. Though the serum should make him last longer, your pussy just defies those rules. He fucks into you faster and rougher, and your legs have turned to jelly. You collapse onto his chest and let him pound your pussy into oblivion. Bucky’s chest rumbles with a chain of moan and curses, and you look up at him. His metal arm is icy cold, just like his eyes. But his orbs are darker than regular ice. They resemble black ice more than anything.

The elastic band in your stomach twists up tightly until it can’t do anything but snap. And so it does. The dam breaks, and you’re suddenly coming around Bucky’s cock. Your cum coats his cock and drips down his balls as your body seizes up. Your jaw falls open, and your eyes roll back while you moan loudly. “Fuck, you look so pretty when you come,” Bucky breathes, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck.

You cry out loudly as Bucky sloppily fucks you through your orgasm and chases his own. “I’m gonna fill you up with my cum, knock you up with my kids. Fuck, you’d look so hot with a bump, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of your body,” he moans deeply, feeling his balls tighten up. He tosses his head back and curses, hitting his release. Ropes of cum shoot inside your cunt, painting your walls and even leaking out a bit. Somewhere, deep down inside Bucky, he truly hopes it sticks.

He moans loudly as his hips give a few shallow thrusts, prolonging his orgasm. You both sigh, slick with sweat and other bodily fluids that neither of you cares about. “Happy birthday…” Bucky whispers, pressing a kiss on the side of your head. “T- Thank you… How’d you know, though?” you question, even though his cock is still inside you. “Just did… Listen, I’m sorry–” he starts, but you cut him off. “Shh, I don’t care about anything but you, baby,” you tell him, whispering gently.

“Baby, but you.”

[taechaos]

Your Boy, No?

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble, smut, college au

synopsis: You can't stand seeing Jungkook with another girl, so you give him a piece of your mind in a stranger's bedroom by becoming his outlet of sexual frustration.

warnings: losing virginity, riding, degradation

a/n: jungkook's character is not exactly submissive, so i added my own twists to this request. i hope you don't mind @madygswich c:

word count: 2.5k

You can't stop pouting. Holding back tears when seeing a woman perched up on Jungkook's lap while they make out has proven to be difficult, but you're trying. It hurts your heart; hell, you're aching everywhere. It doesn't take a genius to know he's doing it to get a reaction out of you when his eyes are throwing daggers at you with his tongue down another girl's throat.

Following Jungkook around like a lost puppy isn't ideal, especially at a frat party. He never gives you the time of the day if it's not out of menace, but you aren't willing to give up on him. It's just not possible when you are so in love with him, and so fucking jealous.

More than Jungkook, you're mad at the girl. You want to rip her heart out, make her suffer for ever touching the love of your life. You're becoming irrational, mentally cussing her out for being a whore while you stop yourself from breaking down in a house filled with horny young adults. You don't know a single person here, and you have to deal with your pent up emotions all by yourself.

You choke out a sob when Jungkook starts kneading the girl's ass shamelessly with her skirt hiked up to her back. They're being so inappropriate in the kitchen of a stranger's house, while you can't even take a sip from your spiked drink in the bustling living room. You abruptly stand up and throw away your plastic cup when Jungkook's hand disappears elsewhere, and you have an idea of what he's about to do. You march over to him, looking absolutely tiny next to the overbearing college students and you don't notice Jungkook's sinister smile as he watches you fume.

"Let go," you sound hoarse, and not at all intimidating when you push the girl off of his lap. She stumbles at the force, but you pay no mind to her confusion as you pull Jungkook up by his arm to drag him away. You think it's the anger and adrenaline giving you so much strength, but it's Jungkook amusing himself by allowing you to take him upstairs.

"This isn't a therapy session, little girl," he yells over the music, "I didn't come here to listen to you cry."

You huff and let a single tear slip before harshly wiping it away. When you reach the hallway, you enter the first bedroom you find. It's occupied by a foreplaying couple, but you're driven as you hiss, "Out!"

They leave at your demand, and you're confusing a lot of people tonight. Jungkook is surprised by your sudden aggression, but he doesn't stop with his remarks, "the chihuahua's gone mad."

"Shut up, Jungkook!" you whirl around angrily to face him. "How could you do that to me?!"

He quirks a brow. "Do what to you? I'm sorry, am I the one who forcefully brought you here? Am I tripping or are you?"

You push at his chest, "you're a fucking whore! Tonguing a girl in front of everyone, in front of me?"

His shoulders shake in silent laughter and you cross your arms when he starts cackling loudly. The music is drowned out and muffled behind the door, but it's nothing compared to how hysterically Jungkook is laughing.

"What's so funny?" you ask lamely. He throws his head back as he clutches his stomach, and you're starting to get annoyed. You push him on the bed, but he's still laughing. "Quit it already," your voice wavers, but you don't back down as you smack his chest. You place your knees on both sides of his hips to limit his movement and cover his mouth to shut him up.

His crescent eyes turn intense instantly as he glares at you under his hooded lids. He exerts only a tiny bit of his energy into pushing your hand away and you weakly collapse on him. It's foul play to compete with his muscles, and you realize he can snap you in half if he wanted to regardless of your rush of adrenaline.

You sit back up as he lowly speaks, "The fuck's it to you? I wanted to fuck her, and I was going to until you stepped in as if you're my girlfriend. Tell me why I shouldn't go back to her right now." He clasps his hands under his head, making himself comfortable with your weight pressing against his crotch.

"You know why," you huff with a frown, and you look so cute in the dim lighting with your baggy knitted sweater bunching up on the sleeves, sitting on his bulge with so much innocence in your expression. He's smitten, but it doesn't show in his cold stare. "I'm your girl, and I won't tolerate you messing around with other women. It's slutty!" You slightly bounce for emphasis, but your knee-length skirt hides your actions. Jungkook feels it with you, and his eyes trail down to your lower region.

"My girl?" he parrots with a raised brow. He gazes back into your eyes. "You do my homework."

"I don't care. I love you," you plead pathetically, "please say you love me back."

"Wasn't I a whore just a second ago?"

"You were! Apologize to me," you harshly yank his head back by his hair. He doesn't react in the slightest, so you softly add, "please."

"Oh little girl," he sighs, "are you really trying to dominate me right now?"

"I am dominating you. Promise me you won't kiss another girl like that again. I won't forgive you a second time."

"Yeah? What's my loss?"

"Well, you're lazy in school," you bluntly state, "and no one loves you like I do. No one would try to cater to you like I do. I'd do anything for you, Kookie." You tug down your skirt to take it off and plop back down on him before saying, "Including sex. You can only use me for your sexual needs."

He's enamored by your words, but he doesn't dare share it with you. Instead, he thrusts upwards and you yelp when you jump. "Go on then," he says nonchalantly. "Show me how much of a slut you are."

"U-Um, okay," you stutter and start unzipping his black denim jeans. You've seen a lot of porn videos to make sure you were prepared for the next step with Jungkook, but you have no experience with penetration.

And he realizes that rather quickly when you're so meek with your actions. With a groan, he asks, "You're not a fucking virgin, are you?"

"I've been saving it for the right guy," you answer with offence. This is a special occasion, and you want him to take it as seriously as you do. But it's definitely not a good idea to be snarky with him when you can barely remember the steps for safe sex. "Do you have a condom?"

"It's in my pocket," he grumbles and points at his front without taking it out himself. You're excited and nervous as you tear the wrapper and take out the preservative. You have no idea how to put it on, but you're topping so you clumsily push down his briefs. Jungkook is surprisingly throbbing under you, and you blush at the sight of his erection.

He stops himself from teasing you and saying that the girl from earlier gave him this boner, but he doesn't want to be cruel yet. It's your first time, and truthfully, he jacks off to thought of you too often anyway. He can handle being somewhat nice by staying quiet, but that doesn't mean he would teach you how to put on a condom.

You slip it on with little struggle, and don't waste any time in positioning his cock in your entrance. Before he can stop you, you sink down on his length with a painful moan. He wants to tell you that losing your virginity in this position is the most painful, but instead he groans, "Holy shit, how are you so fucking tight?"

It hurts so fucking bad. Your tear ducts are like clockwork as they water instantly, but you lower yourself down to the hilt anyway. You're quite literally sitting on his cock as you try to catch your breath because God, you're in so much pain.

"Fuck, are you okay?" he asks, but he's more worried about controlling himself from fucking into you before you can adjust. It's difficult, but he's trying.

"Jungkook," you whimper quietly with your eyes screwed shut, "it hurts."

"You're so fucking dumb for doing this, but you feel so fucking good," he pants as he holds your hips.

"Thank you," you muster out in a breath. A few seconds pass until the pain starts to numb, and you move against him very slowly. Your walls are stinging, but it feels like Heaven for Jungkook who you clench down on.

"Go up and down," he instructs with a bit lip. He tries to move your hips, but you're resisting in fear of another shock of pain. "Come on!"

"Can you wait?" you hiss through clenched teeth.

He's trying to rile you up when he says, "Sana wouldn't take this fucking long."

And it works, because you bounce once. "Don't say her name!"

He groans at your tightness, and he can't believe how wet you are. You're dripping on him, and he curses himself for holding back because of your hopeless romance. He can't entertain your conservative way of going on about this any longer, so he continues, "She would have made me cum by now, but this prissy princess can't even get a move on."

It's almost pathetic how one push from Jungkook makes you start moving, and it feels less uncomfortable to hop up and down against his pelvis. The filthy sound of slapping skin mixing with the generic radio music is making you feel so slutty because it's so stereotypical, but when Jungkook moans, it brings heat all over your body. You take your sweater off when sweat begins to cumulate on your temples, and he commands, "Take off your bra too."

He's thrusting into you as you unclasp the black material, freeing your breasts as he finds his new eyecandies. You are so pretty, your nipples are so hard, and your cunt sucks him in so perfectly. It almost upsets him when he realizes how much pleasure he's deprived himself of; the amount only you seem to be able to provide, because it's beyond physical intimacy.

"Good girl," he exhales and gently slams into you with his hands fondling your tits. You smile coyly through your tears, and he asks, "Does it still hurt?"

You contemplate for a second, because you don't feel the best yet, but you don't want to disappoint Jungkook either. "I-It doesn't," you lie.

Jungkook mentally rolls his eyes; he really wants to believe you so he can chase his high, but he sees right through you. He slaps your tit without mercy and chastises you, "don't lie. I thought this was your little moment of control."

"I'm sorry," you pout as you slowly ride him.

"Another lie," he slaps your other tit more harshly and you yelp.

"I'm not lying!" you plead and hasten your pace, desperate to sell your lie. It's working, because you're starting to feel a knot in your stomach the more you adjust.

He moans with you, and you lose yourself when he stills your hips and begins to fuck you himself. It's rough, loud, and the pain is your pleasure. His balls slap against your skin as he easily slides in and out of you with the help of your arousal. Your love dawns on him when you're so turned on for him without any foreplay, and he's on cloud nine because nothing can compare to being inside you.

The setting is so unlike you, fucking in someone's bedroom with a bunch of people behind the unlocked door who can barge in at any given moment, but he finds it so sexy. You only care about being with him, and you really do look like his slut now.

His hands start holding onto your ass, kneading it until it turns red with his fingerprints, and he demands you to kiss him. You're out of it, your ears are ringing and you can only moan out his name, but you can't bear to ignore him. Your lips fall on his, and the kiss is sloppy with his tongue all over your mouth. You can't keep up, but your chest swells with pride when you realize how needy he is for you. He goes as far as to spit in your mouth, and you swallow it without hesitation.

"You want me to play with your clit?" he murmurs against your lips, and his voice sounds so airy and melodic to your ears. "Hm? Want me to make you feel good, little slut?"

You whine without a clear response because his lips feel so soft and wet, and that's the only thing you can focus on. All you want to do is kiss him and he doesn't stop you from doing so, but you're even more overwhelmed when he starts touching you while penetrating you. "No," you whimper, "I'll cum."

"A slut can take it," he grunts and rubs your clit faster, and you come undone all too soon. You moan loudly as you tremble, shaking as he rides out your high with a pinch to your clit. You're numb when you collapse on top of him, but he's relentless with his thrusts. He's using your body as you intended, and he's vocal with his pleasure and teasing climax. It's remarkable how he holds you up when you've gone limp and still fucks you just as hard.

You want to record his voice when he starts to whine pathetically, but you have no energy left within. He's panting in your ear, and it's not long before his hips fall on the mattress with a sigh. He's surprised by how powerful his orgasm was, as he fills the condom with his release instantly. His cock is still nestled inside you as both of you recover from your climax.

"Get off," he taps your thigh, and he pushes you off when you don't obey immediately. Your spell has worn off as he starts to dress himself. "I'm going back to the dorms." You listen to him with your mind in a haze. "Unless you want to get raped on your way without me, get the fuck up now."

"Can you carry me please?"

He shrugs and swings your arm over his shoulder, picking up your body with ease. He collects your clothes in his hand, but doesn't hand them to you as he steps out of the room.

"W-Wait, Jungkook, I'm naked-"

"You're my girl, no? Be a good slut and shut the fuck up."

Dangling off his shoulder with your bare tits pressed against his back, you close your eyes and drift off on the way to campus.

Boyfriends typically drop their girlfriends off anyway, right?

[the-silentium]

Featuring a Dimwit

Masterlist

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader, Hunter x Reader, Crosshair x Reader

Words: 3236 words

Warnings: Mmmh. None. 

A/N: This series begins after the saga “After the Nightmares”. If you’re new, you might want to start with Good Night, Good Luck if you want to understand what’s going on.

Taglist: @clone-rambles  / @mandaloriandin / @apathetic-catastrophie / @jenstar1992-2 / @haloangel391 / @lightning-wolffe / @cherrydemon5 / @and-claudia / @lackofhonor / @gaymasonjar / @depthsreturn / @koskareevesismyqueen / @leonidas-banana-phone              

_________________

It had been going on for a bit less than a month. The back and forth of pranks between each and every male member of the Bad Batch, passing from moving around one's equipment up to tripping others or painting insults on an inattentive brother's backplate. 

No one ever admitted they did the prank and you often took the blame despite never participating when you couldn't contain your laughter and no one was able to back you up on your whereabouts of the day. It wasn't a bother to be the scapegoat for whoever really pulled the pranks- your best bet was on Wrecker, although some tricks had more of a Tech vibe, like the time Crosshair's modulator had such a high pitched tone that the civilians mistook him for a female- the pranks were overall pretty entertaining. When they weren't targeted at you, that is. 

You could have murdered the one who put Knytixes under your bedsheets. Thank the gods, you avoided jumping right onto the 6 crawling insects due to the light illuminating the barracks since you were the first one who headed to bed, although it didn't stop your hand from squashing one under your palm in inadvertence. The nearly empty room filled with clones in record time as your surprised scream resonated through the closed door and bounced between the ship's walls. Since no one took its responsibilities, you threatened everyone's masculinity and claimed a spot in Hunter's cot while Tech used jars to take away the remaining insects that Back-Up hadn't had time to eat. 

The intensity of the pranks dropped in the following days and none were meant for you, leading you to believe that the Batcher who hid the disgusting critters in your bed understood that he went too far or was too scared for his balls. 

Hunter was resting after a tiring morning of paperwork, Tech was fumbling on his datapad with this concentrated gaze that only he could have while reading endless oceans of information on whatever was his interest at the moment, Back-Up was lounging on his shoulder to absorb the warmth radiating from his blacks and Wrecker cheered you up as you competed against Crosshair on who could reach the top of the tree the fastest. 

"This needs to stop!" Hunter had barged out of the Marauder in a yell, quickly breaking your concentration 10 meters above the ground and only 2 away from your objective. 

The quick glance you allowed yourself to throw his way was a bad choice. The shock of seeing the right side of his face blackened out to mirror the tattoo on his left side caused you to grab the wrong tree limb, a smaller one that couldn't possibly sustain your weight and would have sent you flying down if only your right hand wasn't firmly wrapped around a thicker branch. 

Crosshair won the competition and you were dangling in the air by one hand, huffing in defeat. You knew he'd wear a victorious smirk for the remaining hours of the day, you had annoyed him so much about being a better climber in the hope to have a short playful time with him. It was frustrating to know that you were winning right before Hunter came in the picture and broke your focus. 

You may be a better climber, but Crosshair definitely was better at staying focussed on his task and ignoring each and every distraction. 

"Oh that's a good one!" Wrecker's laugh sent him knocking against the tree, the resulting vibrations threatening the reliability of your grip. If only you were wearing your fingerless gloves, the bark of the tree wouldn't bite your skin as much and you wouldn't be tempted to let go. "Don't know who thought of that but this is the best idea of the month!" 

"It wasn't me." Tech immediately added to dissipate any suspicions, not even bothering to look up from his datapad while doing so. 

"Not me either!" You shouted while reaching for the branch with your opposite hand and pulled yourself up to sit and give a break to the sensitive skin of your palms. "And I was with Cross the whole day." A grunt of approval resonated behind you, even though it was completely unnecessary and clearly didn't reach Hunter. Or maybe it did. 

The sniper took a seat next to you, one hand keeping his balance with a branch in its grip while the other kept you close by your waist. 

Once again, no one took its blame. You wondered if you should laugh about it or not. The guys- because it really never participated in these shenanigans and you were certain it wasn't Back-Up either- always managed to never leave clues and never get caught in the act and you were deeply admiring their skills. They weren't top commandos for nothing! 

"No. More." Was Hunter pissed? No. He was fuming. "Or next time we're on base I'll register everyone for a thorough medical exam." 

Oh the ultimate punishment was out. The prank war ultimately reached its end on a fine sunny afternoon as there was no way it could compete against a complete medical exam, the displeasure that came with the variety of tests surpassed by far the good laugh of pranking someone, and thus, you knew no trooper in this team would dare pull another trick. 

"C'mon Sarge. Not that."Wrecker was the first to complain about the consequences, quickly followed by Tech who stated that all your physical health were optimum. 

"Yes that, and I don't care if we're all at our top. The smallest of trick on anyone of this team will get all your asses in the medbay." He finished in a do not test me tone and returned inside the ship to scrub the ink off his face. 

The muscles pressed against your side were now rock hard, same as the grip slowly tightening around your waist. 

"Don't worry." A peck on his cheek was enough to take his mind off the needles and noisy machines. "No one will dare pull one if that's where it'll get us." The creases between his scrunched eyebrows relaxed with a small nod, knowing just like you that his brothers would not play with that fire. 

You would all be fine. 

______

"I'll kill the one who pulled this one." You fumed in the examination room, knee bouncing under your hand as you waited for the doctor to come back and dismiss you. 

The wait allowed you to think of a plan to finally know who was pulling those jokes and make them regret it. Multiple ideas grew in your mind, one for each member. The planning got interrupted momentarily by the clone who entered your room to inform you that you were in perfect health. Your tests were flawless just like your bloodwork and he couldn't see why your CO requested such a rigorous examination. 

"Someone pissed in his cereal." You jumped off the table and shrugged at the bewildered look on the man's face before taking off in the direction of the hangar. 

It wasn't nearly as drastic as someone peeing in a bowl, but it certainly was just as insulting. 

That last one was personal to the team and you couldn't get how a member of the Batch could do this. It just didn't make sense. Them who constantly fought against the snide remarks, disdainful gazes and harsh behavior, could not possibly have degraded themselves like that.

You quickly boarded the ship after successfully ignoring all the regs watching you speed walking to your destination. Hunter was there with the rest of the boys, watching the insignia over the door like the name of the culprit was written somewhere in it. 

You pushed the button to close the railing and keep this event private, before joining the silent half-circle of irritated men glaring at the paint tainting the wall and every so often glaring at the others in the room like they were the ones who did it. Well, one of them did. No one wanted to admit it. 

Clone Force 69 was painted in thick black letters right over the door for everyone inside to see. At least, the rest of the base didn't know. 

Who the hell would write that? That's what you expected from the regs, not from your own team. 

"Hope y'all appreciated the trip in the sterile field." The grumble on your right opened the door for a concert of groans. "Now the person who did this better say it now."

"But I told you it couldn't be any of us!" Arms open wide at his sides, Tech repeated exactly what he did before Hunter contacted the medbay to order four medical exams. "We all went to bed at the same time and all exited the barracks together. No one got up during the night!" 

You could testify for yourself and Hunter for that. Really, it was unfair that you had to endure the exam, but then it would have been unfair for the other Batchers. At least this time you weren't a suspect. 

"Apparently someone did because it did not write itself." 

"Even the calligraphy doesn't match anyone's!" He pointed out and proceeded to tell how the curves and spacing didn’t correspond to either himself, Wrecker, or Crosshair. 

You perked up at the new information. The calligraphy. It did not match any of the Batcher? But it was so familiar. How could you know these harsh cursive letters if it wasn't the clones'? You never saw anyone else's writing as they all used datapads around here. 

Clone Force 69. Why- it sounded familiar too. Something at the back of your mind bugged you. You knew that. 69. You used to laugh at these references all the time with him. Somehow, when you read it, it was his voice that rang out in your head.

"Guys." The word nearly didn't pass your mouth as the usual tightness in your throat manifested itself like every time you thought about him. "That's Kayden's style. It's his writing too." 

"Took you all long enough! Miss me motherfuckers?" The sight of the very same blue-eyed brunette who disappeared into your arms more than a year and a half ago, magically appearing out of thin air in the center of the room, arms open wide at his side like he was a big surprise froze every thought in your brain. 

Your breathing slowed down while your heart rate perked up, the thudding resonating all the way up your brain to rhythmically ram against the bone and raise the pressure in there. 

"Kayden?" Wrecker stood at the appearance of the newcomer, or ghost, or whatever he was. 

"What did you expect? Ya can't get rid of me that easily." He winked, not even meeting your gaze yet. 

"Wh-You guys seeing him too?!" They all nodded in silence, too stunned to manage anything more. Hunter's hand on your thigh that you hadn't noticed until now tightened at your inquiry.

He looked the same. Same Forsian clothes, same tousled hair with his persistent cowlick at the front, same sparkling energy, although your expert eyes saw through the facade as easily as ever and found some uneasiness. "How- your soul got- you died." 

It took you a month to overcome your denial and finally be able to say that he died and was not simply missing. He didn't just disappear, his soul disappeared. His soul got eaten by a pesky little brat. He had died back there, nearly half an hour before dawn. He died in your arms that night and every following night for three weeks and he couldn't be here. As much as you wanted him to be, he couldn't. 

"Yeah. I'd like to think that it was because whoever was assigned to me on the other side couldn't stand me, but I truly think it's because of your sad ass crying over our crest with the Core around." He shrugged when his eyes finally met yours. "And by the way, you're ugly as fuck when you cry." His diversion to hide his discomfort failed miserably. You saw him gulp as he took in the water filling your eyes. 

"I mourned you, you asshole!" The hand on your thigh wasn't enough to keep you in place. Getting up without a problem, you moved to your once closest friend and the one you considered your brother and punched his shoulder with all your might. You were pissed, but not enough to aim for his face. 

The lack of any concrete object colliding with your knuckles sent you tumbling through his body. It gave you a chill like you'd passed your hand through a mound of snow. The coldness vanished as soon as you completely exited his apparition, leaving goosebumps as the only proof of the momentaneous change of temperature. 

"Neat trick eh? Took me months to master it!" He beamed, truly enthusiastic about his new ability. His smile wavered once he took in your fury. "Okay, okay. Hit me again, I won't do it." He presented his cheek. 

You weren't falling for it again. Your ego was bruised, your feelings were crushed, your whole being was screaming in a mix of anger and relief. 

"Fuck you." He recoiled at your glare. "You were here the whole time, watching me cry over your fuck ass self and didn't say shit." This time, when your fingers poked his chest, they made contact and you noticed how warm he felt compared to the cold from mere moments ago when you passed through him. 

"I wasn't here the whole time." He shook his head to defend himself. "I woke up one day, I think it was a month after it all, and no one could see or hear me. Took me months to build up my strength to be able to move one of the toothpicks that are everywhere in this ship." 

A growl could be heard from behind Kayden who immediately changed something in himself so the toothpick thrown at him passed right through and bounced on your shirt. A click of his tongue and Crosshair was gone, preferring the comfort of his bed after a long visit to the medbay to listening to what the brunette had to say. 

"Wait! So all the pranks, it was you?" Wrecker approached the Forsian, an impressed glint in his eyes. He reached for Kayden's shoulder, surely to try out the feeling of touching a ghost that can actually dematerialize himself. Unfortunately for him, Kayden was now flesh and bones… or whatever he was.

"Needed to come back with style, my friend." He smirked and turned to admire his art tagging the wall. "That's a better team name, ain't it?" 

You used the fact that he was now a solid version of himself to slap the back of his head. It was with a small bit of pleasure that you noted that it felt the same. Even the yelp was exactly as you remembered. 

"You karking sent us to the medbay." Crosshair shot from the room clearly still pissed from his little trip. You felt compelled to go snuggle with him, even more because you had assured him that he wouldn't have to undergo a medical appointment. 

Your frustration towards your brother came back full force. Not only could he have shown himself weeks ago when the first prank started, but he dropped so much shit on all of you, from the long-lasting ink on Hunter's face, to Tech's burned hand when his live wires had been moved without him noticing, to the forced medical trip and let's not forget the bugs in your bed. 

It was a good thing that the sniper wasn't in the room as he would have been mad seeing Kayden trying to keep the smile off his face and failing miserably. "I didn't send you there. He did." He pointed at the Sergeant with a smug grin. "I was just being a nice little ghost."

"Nice? You call yourself nice?" You couldn't take more of his bullshit. If you stayed in the room another second, you'd lash out and it wouldn't be pretty. All the nasty words floating in your mind would hurt more than you really intended and you couldn't have that. Not when you could still hear the repressed sobs racking his body in your head. 

You walked away, tears gathering in your eyes, but you didn't care. Crosshair would hold you again and it'd be fine again. "Fucking Dimwit." 

"Thank you." He called with such seriousness that you stopped in your tracks. "For bringing me back." 

At that moment, water ran down your cheek and there was nothing you could do about it. You wanted to hold him tightly in your arms and pray that he wouldn't fade away this time. But you were scared. Scared he'd do just that. Fade away and leave you once again to try and piece yourself back again, with more missing pieces than you already have. 

You were lucky though. Clone force 99 was good at creating stuff with limited resources to accomplish impossible tasks. With their skills, time, patience, and different level of care, they filled some holes. However, some were still painfully empty and were too intricate to replace. 

"Don't thank me." You sighed, shoulder slumped, hand hovering over the button to open the door to the barracks. 

He frowned. "You can't really be mad at me." 

No, you couldn't. Not when he was back. And even less when he died for you in the first place. 

You shook your head, still watching the marks engraved in the door. "I'm not." 

"Then wh-" "Him." You cut Kayden off to point at Tech whose eyes were as wide as saucers and his body inching closer and closer to get a better look at him. 

"Stay away." Kayden jumped to the side, avoiding the engineer’s curious fingers as well as his scanner that somehow found its way into his possession. 

Still, the clone didn't give up and followed the Forsian wherever he backed-up. "But you can pass through things!" His first try at passing through Kayden was unsuccessful as he met flesh, just like Wrecker. 

"No. I'm not going to be penetrated by your fingers for science. It still feels weird." 

Tech, however, was quick to find a way to get what he wanted. A fist flew to Kayden's face, not too quick to let him time to see it coming, but with enough force to promise a black-eye if he didn't dodge it. If only there had been a wall behind him to stop him from jumping back and avoid the knuckles. 

"But do you get how useful this could be during a mission!" Tech tried again, but Kayden was prepared. 

"Yeah and ghosts can go poof!" He mimed explosions with his hands and disappeared into thin air just as Tech's fist was to make contact. Instead of hitting Kayden, his fist collided with the wall of the Marauder. 

You entered the barracks, Tech's hiss of pain filled the room and caused Crosshair to chuckle in amusement. 

"So we have a ghost now? Can we keep him like we kept Back-Up?" Wrecker asked excitedly. 

"Great. Just. Great." Hunter grumbled, a hand slowly moving down his face and the door closed behind you. 

[heynikkiyousofine]

A new wip because I don't have enough of them already😅 Inspired by @neutronstarchild​ fic “The Last Unclaimed Soul” and @lemonlushff​ fic ‘A Worthy Sacrifice” because y’all are goddesses at writing InuKag and I love your work.💕

Also, a big shoutout to @enchantedink-ag​ for always keeping me hyped up on my work, your kind words keep me going. 😊

Inuyasha stumbles across a goddess while he’s hunting a deer. A quick decision ends up turning his whole life around, is he prepared for his own red string of fate?

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic and let me know what y’all think!

The Red Strings of Fate

Inuyasha jumped from one tree branch to the next, a determined look on his hard features. His jaw clenched as he paced himself to stay next to the deer running below. If he could catch this one, he would have food for a few days, plus a new skin to keep warm at night. The fall nights had been gradually getting colder and his cave was getting harder to keep warm throughout the night. Seeing the chestnut furred animal dart to the left, he cursed himself for not focusing better and leaped, landing right on top of the running mammal. Feeling it struggle beneath his sharp claws, he quickly snapped its neck and tumbled the forest floor, gripping its now lifeless body tightly against him as he rolled to a stop. Sighing to himself, he closed his eyes and said a silent thank you to the gods above for providing for him.

Opening his eyes, he saw the glimpse of light blue silk hanging from a tree nearby. Bracing himself for an attack, he quickly scooped up the deer and draped it over his shoulders, taking a silent step backwards. Hearing a heavenly giggle from somewhere up above, he stopped moving, his ears twitching rapidly on his head.

Curious about the sound, he silently jumped up in a large tree and set the mammal’s body down, hidden away from anyone passing by. Hearing the soft giggle once again, he slowly crept along his branch, keeping an eye on the soft blue silk. Hearing a slight rustle in the trees, he heard voices below as he crept further along as silently as possible.

“Monk, keep your hands to yourself!” an agitated feminine voice called through the trees.

“My dear Sango, I cannot resist. A body as beautiful as yours should always be worshipped.” A deep voice responded, causing Inuyasha to freeze in place. He held his breath, his golden eyes searching ahead for the blue silk or anything else to give him a clue as to who they were. The soft giggle he so desperately wanted to hear again lightly flitted across his ears, coming from above him this time. Glancing up, he saw a young woman with hair as black as night falling down her back, blue silk sashes flowing beneath her in the slight breeze, and pale legs with barefoot feet, hanging from the thick branch she currently resided on.

“We must get back Miroku. Kohaku will get suspicious if we’re gone too long.” the woman’s voice called softer this time, assuming her name was Sango based on the not so quiet conversation below.

“If we must my dear.” Miroku replied. Inuyasha stayed hidden behind the red and yellow leaves as the two humans headed towards a village up ahead, their footsteps fading in the afternoon. He glanced up at the figure still sitting on the tree, who sighed as she watched the couple leave. Jumping once more to a branch nearby the woman, Inuyasha landed on his toes, his clawed hands gripping the tree trunk for support. He heard a soft gasp and locked eyes with startled grey ones.

Inuyasha tried to ask who she was, but couldn’t seem to get a word out, his throat closing tight. Swallowing quickly, he didn’t dare to move closer as the woman stayed still as stone, staring back at him in shock. After a few moments, she let out a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing a bit and a sweet smile gracing her lips. Her grey eyes sparkled, a striking contrast to her wavy midnight hair as it flowed around her shoulders.

“You can see me.” She simply stated. Inuyasha just nodded, still unsure of what to say or do. Gripping the branch beneath his feet tightly, he still didn’t move as she turn and draped one leg over the branch, so she was straddling as she faced him. “What’s your name?”

Giving her a skeptical look, she merely laughed, her melodic voice filling the air around him. Feeling as if the world was being lifted from his shoulders, he gaped at her in shock while she continued to laugh. As she began to relax, he did too and mirrored her position on his own branch.

“Inuyasha.” He whispered, afraid to speak louder, thinking he would break whatever spell this was. This woman, this goddess, was something he couldn’t put his finger on, but he knew he would never be able to forget this encounter for the rest of his long, lonely life.

“Inuyasha.” She repeated. The way his name sounds on her lips, he could die a happy man if that was the only thing she ever said to him again. Aching to hear it again, his ears wiggled in anticipation as she continued to speak. :The name is fitting for a handsome man like you. I like it, Inuyasha.”

At her compliment, he blushed, casting his eyes downward. He wasn’t used to such nice words, especially from a stranger. Most humans and demons only ever called him degrading names, hurling insults his way as he passed by villages looking for food. Hearing her call his name again questionably, he looked up.

“Do you not receive such praise?” She asked, sadness clear in her stormy eyes. Why did it make her sad? He wondered, as he shook his head. “Well, I hope I can make up for that. You know, most can’t see me, unless a god has decided it to be in their destiny.”

Inuyasha wasn’t sure to make of this woman, her last sentence confusing him completely. Was she not human? A ghost perhaps? Or a demon who was able to hide herself? Sniffing discreetly, he could only smell the soft scent of jasmine from her, her words speaking truth. Seeing the confused look on his face, she laughed once again, his ears twitching rapidly on his head.

“I am the Goddess of Fate.” She leaned in close and whispered, her eyes bright with mirth. “But you, Inuyasha, can call me Kagome.”

“The Goddess of what?” He sputtered at Kagome, staring at her in complete shock.

“Fate.” She giggled again, her perfectly manicured hand coming up to cover her mouth and his ears once again twitched madly at the sound. God, he was already in deep. “I’d rather you call me Kagome though. My mother, Themis, gave me the nickname when I was but a child. Legends have different names for me, most call me Moira or Fatum,” she shrugged, “depending on whatever religion they came from.”

“So, uh, what were you laughing at earlier?” Inuyasha asked, unsure of where to go from there, overwhelmed with the information, scratching his head as he continued to listen.

“Oh! I was pulling fate strings. My sister Aphrodite likes to have fun with human men and their love interests, so I was playing my hand at a couple who have been dancing around their feelings for each other. The woman though she is a feisty one, a bit of a warrior, so she won’t give into him easily.” Kagome exclaimed, her smile growing wider as she talked about the couple Inuyasha overheard earlier.

“Wait. You mean, you make them fall in love? Isn’t that like messing with destiny or some shit like that?” Inuyasha just stared at her, waiting for an explanation. This woman was clearly delusional.

“Inuaysha,” Kagome rolled her eyes and smiled softly at him, causing his heart to skip a beat at his name, “I am the Goddess of Fate! It is my job to intertwine earthly lives and such. I can’t make people fall in love, but I can set them, guide them, direct them along a path where they will be together with one who worships them. I use what many legends call the red string of fate to encourage them.” She held up a dainty hand, each finger with multiple thin red strings falling from her fingertips. Each strand went a different way, disappearing into the forest around them. When she lowered her hand, the strings disappear and she waited for his next question.

“You can do that with anyone?” He asked after a moment, his ears quivering in anticipation for her answer. Maybe she could help him, he suddenly realized, and that maybe he wouldn’t have to be alone. Nodding at him, she watched as he grew excited, her gaze rising to set upon his fluffy ears. He watched as she stared and twitched his right ear, watching her mouth open slightly, gaping at him. Preparing for the slur to fall from her lips, he cringed when she asked him a question.

“Can I touch your ears?” She whispered, so quietly, he wasn’t sure he had heard her right. She wanted to touch his ears? Who was she? He simply nodded and blinked at her with uncertainty as she brought herself closer, to the edge of her branch and reacher her slender arm out. Seeing that she was still a bit too far, he lowered his head and waited, closing his eyes in anticipation. No had touched his ears since his mother.

His ear twitched as soft fingers grazed over it, before stopping and rubbing the felt tip. Hearing her soft giggle once again, he flicked his ears and raised his head, waiting for her response. What he didn’t expect was her to be even closer, her wide grey eyes staring deep into his. Swallowing, he froze in terror, waiting for the disgusting remark about his demon heritage to come tumbling from her mouth and being completely shocked when she just smiled at him, not speaking. Her pink lips opened slightly as she smiled wider, revealing perfectly white, straight teeth and he was close enough, he could see the few light freckles that danced across her small nose. Taking a deep breath, unable to speak himself, he inhaled, his lungs filling with the overwhelming scent of jasmine. Her grey eyes watched his gold ones, an unknown emotion and longing filling both, Inuyasha felt like he suddenly couldn’t breathe. All he could see was her, a glimpse of a future with her, her scent intertwining with his own, her body beneath his as he devoured her. Feeling his gut churning in his stomach, he blinked, breaking himself free from her trance, knowing he couldn’t ever have a life like that.

Coughing and lowering his gaze, he fiddled with his robe sleeve as he heard Kagome get to feet. Looking up at her in question and a little bit of sadness, thinking she was already leaving him, Kagome held her hand out to him expectantly.

“Inuyasha,” she breathed, her grey eyes filled with excitement, “Would you like me to show you?”Deciding he could always come back for the deer carcass, his clawed hand gripped hers tightly as he stood on his feet.

[angellgguk]

I’m not sorry  [ Kim Taehyung ]

warning/s [ treachery, crude words, i used the ‘they sit together at lunch’ as a JOKE not literally, mentions of sex ]

genre [ Angst, yandere, a pinch of smut ]

character [ Professor taehyung, his best friend ]

06.10.2020 - i was supposed to post this yesterday but i was too busy laughing at memes that were not even funny.so here’s extremely delayed professor taehyung (and a special guest).

Taehyung wasn’t thinking properly when he was degrading you like usual that night.his comments never got deep but that day one specific remark seemed to trigger you.”you will be a cockslut for jungkook too wouldn’t you?”, not wanting to ruin the mood you had let it slide with a whine but his next sentence took you by surprise.

“I told him how much of a whore you are, he wanted to join too” the menacing chuckle that left him after didn’t reach your ears.your heart was beating fast enough to pound out your chest.despite the air conditioned room you felt the little droplets of sweat dripping from your forehead.

“You told professor jeon?” you almost whispered, not minding about his fingers that were curled inside you to draw your usual whine or moan out.he was surprised when the words left your mouth.he didn’t dare move his fingers anymore.

He coughed as he pulled his fingers out and looked away.he was cursing at himself for letting his words get out of way.when jungkook had told him he was down to fuck you together with taehyung.he immediately closed the idea off with the excuse of drunken blabbers.

That was two weeks ago.he managed to keep his and jungkook’s mouth closed but now after all that hard work he just had to say the wrong thing at the wrong time and ruin everything.you scooted back and sat up, being grateful that he hadn’t started to fuck you yet.

Now you were struggling to get out of his condo without looking like a wreck.all the trust you had in him had just shattered.he promised you that this was going to be between you and him not you him and professor jeon.

“Listen to me!” his pleads were useless now.you had already started to get dressed with his figure stepping on your shadows.you zipped the back of your dress and rushed over to grab the thrown backpack on the floor.

Your tears were blurring your vision yet you collected yourself and rushed to the door.taehyung cursed behind you as he zipped his slacks back and threw his shirt back on, “i’ll explain” he tried.but you were already out of his room.but he was quick enough rush right after you and grab your wrist in a painful grip to hold you back.

you were not taking professor Jeon’s commercial music class so the only time you’ll ever get to meet him was at any college event or seldom at the library.and every time you do he would have something to say, “Skirt looks nice” or “will i see you at the game next week?”.you had shut his comments and questions down with a curt nod or a smile.because according to everyone around you.

Professor Jeon and the college frat boys sit together at lunch.

One look at him and anyone new would think he was just another student but no.he sits together with the staff with his black cargo pants and sweatshirt paired with black combat boots.despite being extremely talented he was just not eligible enough to be teaching them to someone else.yet everyone loves his class.free periods and free fucks for lucky students? Who’s not down for that?.

Only you.

“How could you?” your voice may have come out softer than expected but your anger was still loud and roaring.”I put all my trust in you and this is what i get back?” you turned around and stared into his eyes.

“Darling listen-” even his phone didn’t seem to fancy the idea of him coating his lies with butter.he clicked his tongue and pulled it out his pocket to cut the call without bothering to see the ID.it rang once again almost immediately like someone on the other end was really desperate.

He looked back at you but you had already gotten rid of his grip and was fumbling with his door handle.you let out a soft whimper as the thought going back to the comfort of your own bed hit you when the door opened.but before you could take another step he shut the door with ease from behind you.

You gripped onto the handle and took a deep breath.you didn’t want to turn around. he stood right behind you and you were not ready to face his disgusting face again.”baby..listen” you only wanted to puke at all these newly found nicknames he had decided for you.

“It was a joke.he wouldn’t take it serious” he sounded convincing but you were not dumb enough as he wanted you to be ”I’m leaving” you announced one last time before forcing the door open, ignoring his strong presence and force from right behind you.

The moment you stepped out you were forced to be pushed back into professor Kim’s chest.you scrunched your brows and looked up with an unusual frown on your face.only to let it wipe itself away to be replaced with panic when you saw who stood in front of you.

“Professor jeon..” you stepped back, unintentionally pushing taehyung along with you. jungkook invited himself inside and looked at his watch before scrunching his brows with a smile on his face he cocked his head to the side.

“Are you already done hyung?.i thought you told me to come over by ten” you parted your mouth in pure shock.the situation was inexplicable, and so were the following.

“No gguk don’t worry, we haven’t even started yet”.

Professor Kim and Jeon were the bestest friends.

[84reedsy]

A Reunion

Rating: E- Explicit Characters: Severus Snape/Hermione Granger, Various other characters Summary:  A Hogwarts reunion leads two former Hogwarts students to an unexpected evening. Setting: Post 2nd Wizarding War, Snape Lives AU Warnings: Smut, drunkeness

The same faces year after year had lost their allure. Some had aged ever so gracefully while some seemed to speed along the path of degradation. It was to be expected; some had darker demons than others. The war had left its mark on almost every person in this room. But the camaraderie that had existed in the aftermath had ebbed and people had fallen back into somewhat predictable  comfort zones of their inner circles. And to say her inner circle had been reduced was an understatement. 

She’d rather sit at her home and read through yet another text. The company of books had always been more enjoyable to Hermione than people...at least most of them.  

Hermione was by no means anti-social, but there were many times where she was intimidated by the prospect of socialization, especially at these Hogwarts reunions where the attendance spanned every age.

She still saw Ron and Harry on occasion, but they never made it to these things. Harry had tired of the hero’s role and what came with it. He was content to hide away. Ron seemed to regress not long after they’d been able to complete their 7th year o.w.l.s. He longed for the careless childhood of which he claimed to have been robbed of. To say it strained their relationship was an understatement. Being the proactivist that she was, Hermione parted ways before things worsened, remaining amicable friends for the last 10 years. 

That was her in a nutshell - a proactive realist. And a lonely one at that. Sitting at the bar, her half empty glass of merlot seemed to magnify that reality. People spoke to her, yes, but no one seemed to hold a conversation with her for any length of time. She wasn’t upset about that for the most part; the conversations only went one of a few ways. Either they asked about Harry, errantly assumed she was still with Ron, or asked details of the war that she didn’t feel like repeating in light-hearted company. She may not have been the poster-boy that Harry was, but she felt like a martyr in her own right. 

She grinned politely and waved at George from across Hog’s Head. He stood with other wizards from his year, each holding a pint and laughing. He got along as well as one could expect, but even from a distance you could tell when someone mentioned Fred - there was a sadness to his smile and a far away look in his eyes. She supposed twins would have a more difficult time being separated by death than most, but remarkably, George had held up well all things considered.

“Another glass?” The barkeep tended the counter while the bottle of merlot hovered over her glass, just short of pouring, “This one’s compliments of the ginger bloke standing over near ‘is lads,” Hermione glanced at George once again, smiling as he lifted his pint towards her. She nodded towards the barkeep and the bottle titled as her glass floated from the bar top. 

The truth was, Hermione wanted conversation. She wanted to reconnect with people from her youth. But, she’d always been bored by her own peers. They lacked a certain...something. It was hard to put her finger on it as she tipped her wine glass back and surveyed the room. The crowd was slowly thinning, people had lives to return to. Children, careers, some seeking one night of companionship with an old (maybe even a new) flame. Some bid her farewell as they departed, others were too inebriated to abide by any social niceties. 

This was the after-party of the reunion, moving from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade. A fine dance had been held in the Great Hall. Hermione had been treated to moments of fond memories of the Yule Ball from her Fourth Year. She, Pavarti and a Ravenclaw a few years their senior had spent most of that sitting around a table attempting to catch up, but mostly commenting on the myriad of fashions chosen for the evening. They ranged from elegant to extremely gaudy, Luna sporting something near the latter of that spectrum. Neville in his dashing suit couldn’t have looked more proud to have the odd, but loyal lady on his arm. 

It was the solid black of his wardrobe that stood out first as the din of the ballroom had lessened. No one had ever expected Severus Snape to make an appearance even though an invitation was extended every year. To say he had become a hermit underemphasized the lonely existence he kept. It had not taken long for word to spread about his covert involvement that, many agreed, was the only reason the Second Wizarding War was ever winnable. His short temper and penchant for insults still left a sour reputation among the wizarding community but their gratitude was evident by leaving him be - just as he wished.

Hermione had felt then that she should make an effort to speak with him. Perhaps his loneliness had reached a point he could no longer endure. Though as an instructor he’d never offered her any sort of compassion or understanding, she felt compelled to provide both those things to him - especially with the way he spent most of the evening void of everything but uneasy glances. 

She should get home. It was very late in the evening and more wine was only going to make her sleepier. She slid from her stool, balancing the stem of her glass between her fingers. She would bid George and his mates good night and be on her way. Just as she turned, her eyes were drawn to the shadowy corner nearly vacated. 

Dressed still in solid black sat Severus Snape, a small glass of fire whiskey sat in front of him with his fingers lazily wrapped around it. The two gazes connected across the room and both knew they were equally as seen by the other. He’d noticed her at the ball and he’d settled in this quiet, hidden nook of a booth early enough to see her arrive here as well. As they stared, he had not a clue what they had to speak to the other about, but he found himself curious enough to invite her company.

“Miss Granger,” he slid from the booth, but stood still, not approaching her.

“Professor Snape,” She acknowledged him back, nodding slightly. She was only slightly aware that her grip tightened around her glass. 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to company,” It was the closest to an invitation he could muster. In his years of solitude his grasp of social graces had deteriorated a bit, not that they were ever that well-honed in the first place. He was relieved, but did not show it when she smiled politely and nodded. 

Hermione looked around as if she needed to tread carefully. Old habits must die hard; she was an adult - her school mates would not look on in shock if she were to associate with her former Potions and Dark Arts Professor. She approached the booth and slid in the side opposite him. She sat a napkin down before placing her wine glass on top of it. His curious look made her nervous.

“Muggle custom,” She mumbled. Mentioning the word muggle may have been a grave mistake as an awkwardness surrounded them. Years of memories both flooded their minds - the existence of muggles in the magical world is what nearly tore it apart. She worried that the slip of her tongue may have ended this conversation before it began. She chewed her lip and looked downward and Severus was surprised to find himself amused. It was the same motion she used to make when he called her out in class for her know-it-all conduct. 

“Miss Granger, if I may,” He spoke first, knowing she was likely about to excuse herself, “I taught at Hogwarts for many years and saw thousands of witches and wizards with varying levels of magical genealogy. As much as it pains me to admit, and I’ll deny it if ever asked again, I never once came across one that matched your brilliance or hunger for knowledge.” 

Hermione had to wet her mouth with more wine, dried in shock of such a compliment from this particular source.

“Professor,” She had to struggle with an appropriate response, “I dare say that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” 

“I suppose I’m getting soft in my old age,” He lifted his fire whiskey and just before it tipped back over his lips, there was an ever so subtle wink of his eye.

“It can be difficult to let your guard down,” Hermione glanced around the room before returning her attention to Severus, still somewhat mired in shadow, “It’s hard to know who to trust, or who’s just out to get something from you.” 

“I have more experience with the latter - which should easily explain my absence from such….festivities.” He glanced toward the lively, drunken bunches near the front of the bar.

“So why now? Why this year, Professor?” Hermione’s curiosity subdued her hesitance.

Severus swirled the base of his glass along the table top. His face was obstructed only by the long locks of lanky black hair that had surprisingly few greys among them. His sharp nose was still as prominent as ever, though his face wasn’t pursed nearly as much as it used to be. Perhaps his years of seclusion had brought him some peace.

“Curiosity, Miss Granger,” He motioned towards the barkeep as Hermione had nearly drained her glass, “Curiosity to see Hogwarts again, to see what’s become of my students,”

“Curiosity?” Hermione couldn’t helped but be amused at the thought of simple curiosity bringing him out into the public eye, “Congratulations, Professor, that’s a new one to me” 

“Are you calling me a liar?” He questioned as their glasses were filled. From a glance she could see a facetious nature to his query.

“Not at all, Professor,” Another sip added to the ones before were calming (or numbing) her nerves, “Just...surprised,”

“I wasn’t sure you’d accept my invitation, so considered us both surprised by the other.” He lifted his glass slightly, awaiting her to return the gesture.

“Do you take me for someone that rude?” She returned in a subdued jest, only pausing shortly before clinking her glass to his, “What are we drinking to?”

“New surprises from old acquaintances,” He answered after a short pause, “And not rude...perhaps forthright.”

“That I am guilty of without question.” She sipped the fresh glass.

“Oh I remember you, quiet well Granger.” Even if she hadn’t been the ever present partner of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, Severus imagined she still would have stuck out from her lack of shyness and her vigor for learning.

"You rarely missed an opportunity to call me out on it," her hand around her glass pointed a finger at him as she found herself falling into an oddly natural repartee. Odd, especially considering there was a time in her life where she viewed him as the enemy.

"It didn't appear to deter you," he noticed that his whiskey seemed to be going down much smoother in the company of someone. Perhaps this was a benefit of not drinking alone. Seveus found it difficult not to be amused as he cheeks stretched in a smile though he could tell she was trying to fight it.

“I suppose not, Professor.”  She still had that know-it-all look in her eye and though she knew the criticism when intended to inspire or shame her into subduing it, she still felt somewhat prideful in her acquisition of knowledge. His mouth crooked into a half smile of amusement. It was odd to be having a conversation as adults without the construct of student/teacher.

“It has been many years since I have entered a classroom, Miss Granger. I haven’t been your instructor for an even longer period. I believe at the present time, you are no longer obligated to address me as your superior.” He drawled, speaking over the top of his glass. 

“Old habits die hard,” She swallowed back the address of sir or professor, “That’s the only way I’ve ever known to address you. It definitely wouldn’t have done  to address you so informally before. I don’t doubt you would have been pleased with the lot of us Gryffindors referring to you as Sev or mate.” She joked, wondering if she could turn that half a grin into a whole one.

“You’re absolutely correct, Miss Granger,” He swirled the spicy libation in his mouth, “I would have been rather displeased.

“I do have a first name too, you can address me by it if I’m  allowed to address you by yours.” Hermione leaned forward a little, squinting her eyes with a peculiar amusement. She needed to see if he was game for such familiarity.

Severus sat in silence for a moment, resting his hand on the table as he sized her up in his mind. She was no longer the mousey, fresh faced child and student he’d first met. She was clearly a woman. The war and subsequent years had aged her as it had everyone else, but she did not fare as poorly as some. If anything she’d acquired beauty in her physical maturity. While her hair was still curly, she tamed it better now. She did not paint her face with anything too obtuse. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows on the edge of the table.

“Very well, Hermione,” Severus had to admit to himself that it felt odd saying her name out loud.

“That’s better, Severus,” Though in private, she and her friends had referred to him as Snape since nearly the moment they met him, there was a certain comfort she found in calling him by his name. Perhaps it was relief that she could view them as equitable instead of existing on two different planes.

Severus couldn’t help the quick, fleeting smirk on his lips, amused by her ability to change a pattern so easily. He decided not to let the moment linger. He was in need of any conversation outside of the internal dialogue that had been such a constant companion.

“So speaking of...Gryffindors…” He still grimaced, though Hermione found it comical, “How are those friends of yours?” His dark eyes were trained on her as he sipped again.

“We still leave that bad of a taste in your mouth?” She questioned, chuckling behind closed lips at his incredulous look, “I guess Slytherin’s and Gryffidor’s are just not made to see eye to eye?”

“In my experience, most of my interactions have been….unpleasant - current company excluded,” He was slow to the save, humored by the way her eyebrows lifted as if he would leave the insult as his last word.

“Nice save Prof- Severus,” She nodded, “I have to admit, I have occasionally thought of you over the years,” She hiccuped a little, “That is, wondering what you did to occupy your time.” She recovered quickly. 

“Have you now?” Of all the people she’d known, he would have thought given the circumstances that most of them rarely, if ever, thought of him, “After so many years playing a double agent and spending my career in the view of so many, I find that I prefer my privacy. I stay in my home, reading, writing, documenting,”

“Documenting?” She leaned her cheek into her palm, looking interested. 

“Yes. Though it was not my preferred subject, I did have a rather well adapted aptitude for potion-making. I developed many unique and novel substances even back to my own days at Hogwarts. I plan to release the formulas for a reasonable premium.” 

“Reasonable? But you’re Severus Snape; the man who lied bold faced to -Voldemort-” Hermione felt odd saying the name out loud, she hadn’t had to in so long, “Harry may have been the poster boy, but many see you as much of a hero as they do him.” She said matter-of-factly.

“That bold tone, that’s the girl I remember, Hermione.” He caught himself from referring to her as Miss Granger, “And I prefer not to label myself as such. I believe there are many that still despise me,” He took another sip and for a moment Hermione felt some pity for him, but mostly warm from his first chiding remark. 

“Well, regardless, I appreciate what you did. And you deserve a well earned drink on me,” She peered at his empty glass, not letting him refute her offer. She motioned towards the bar as a  decanter floated their way and refilled his glass, “I insist,”

“I’m not sure that’s appropriate, you buying me a drink. After all I’m an old man,” he eyed the drink, his mouth thirsting for another taste.

“You’re not that old,” She leaned forward as she spoke a little quieter, “In fact it looks like you’ve barely aged,” She noted his appearance, the last decade had been devoid of most of the stresses that had strained him so much before. 

“You’re attempting to flatter me, Hermione. I can’t on earth imagine why,” He toyed with her a bit, finally sipping his fresh fire whiskey.

“I resent the accusation that my politeness is anything but,” She was quick to match his wit, but there was also a teasing, sarcastic suggestion. Surely it was the wine speaking for her or at least prodding her in such a flirtatious direction.

“I believe you’ve had too much wine, Hermione,” He noted her once again empty glass. 

She smirked holding it up in the air to the side, not breaking her gaze from his. It refilled from the bottle, this time settling itself on the table rather than behind the bar. 

“Am I of age, Severus?” She challenged his assessment coyly.

“Yes, I believe you are,” His eyes couldn’t help but look her over and confirm for himself that his thoughts were well founded.

“Then let me worry about my own levels of intoxication. After all have you ever know me to be *hiccup* irresponsible?” Her words and her behavior seemed to be sending two very distinct but different signals. He lifted his brow in a moment of question, but he was feeling rather warm and fuzzy himself. What harm could it do to let a bit of his guard down around someone who seemed so interested in his company.

“I cannot recall such a time, but perhaps you should put a little more in  your stomach,” He pushed a plate of bread and cheese he’d barely touched towards her, “How is Potter these days?” He wanted to change the subject until her obvious buzz was a little more subdued.

“You really want to know about Harry?” She looked somewhat surprised, but continued without his confirmation, “He’s alright I suppose. Still with Ginny Weasley, they have Lupin’s boy and one of their own. He turns down public appearances on an hourly basis. Tough to be treated fairly when everyone either wants something from you or to treat you like a god.” 

“I know about the former, not so much the latter,” He pursed his lips as he heard the name of Harry’s wife, “I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised he stayed with that girl. She was the least insufferable of the lot, in my experience. How about your Weasley. The daft one.”

“Ohhh, I can tell you’ve been sitting on that question for a moment, haven’t you?” Hermione noticed that he seemed compelled to ask it more than willful, “We didn’t last long at all - after school. We went our separate ways and I don’t see much of him at all. I keep in contact with his mum more than any of them.” She watched as he took a drink, but through the arc of the glass, she could see him conceal and satisfactory smirk.

“What I shame, you two seemed to compliment each other well,” He offered with little conviction.

“Ha, you don’t believe that for a moment, Severus,” She chortled a bit, “we had a history, but in the end he turned out to be very wrong for me. I need someone with more, with more…” She struggled to describe what was missing.

“Maturity,” Severus answered with a slow enunciation, not at all questioning.

Hermione glanced at him again, but the shared gaze had a different energy to it, “Yes. That’s exactly it,”

Though a silence passed between them, it felt as if they were wordlessly communicating. There was no awkward air between them. 

“So, there’s been no one else to fill the,” his eyes flickered down as if in the subtlest of suggestions, “void?”

Hermione nibbled a bit of bread, wiping a cumb from her lip before shaking her head slightly. She struggled to speak for a few moments, resisting the urge to suppress her impulse. 

“No. No one has filled that void in ages...Severus,” She said suggestively, but felt an intense nervousness as she waited with baited breath for his reply. 

“That’s quite a shame,” He replied after a brief pause. Either an awkwardness would follow or she might-

“Yes, it is,” She looked at him with determination and agenda. Though the conversation had been finding its way to this point, it still surprised him that she was this bold.

“Being alone does have its disadvantages,” He set his glass down, no longer interested in being satiated by a substance. 

“Perhaps tonight,” She ran her nail along a ridge in the wood grain on the table before looking back up at him, “We throw our cautions to the wind and give this whole ‘not being alone’ a go,” 

She had no doubt that snogging in public was something Severus was very much against, so taking the initiative she stood from the quiet booth, noting that the bar was nearly empty. She walked with some stealth but still a natural gate to a wooden door that led behind the bar. She opened it slightly, enough only to slip past the gap and keep the old rusty hinges from screeching. She looked back towards him in a silent invitation.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione waited in the room filled with wooden casks and crates of bottles, stacked upon wooden shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. She leaned her back against one such post, the anticipation did the job of sobering her a bit. At least if she was rejected, it wouldn’t be with an audience. Only a short time had passed (though it felt like eons) when she was startled by the door pushing open. Severus also passed through a gap only large enough for him to float through, still sporting the black robes she remembered over the black suit. 

They did not need to speak. Each knew why they were there. 

Hermione did not move from her spot, but her spine arched every so slightly that her chest jutted forward as the room echoed his footsteps and her controlled breath. He approached, standing mere inches from her, making it no secret that his eyes were taking in her form. 

She was the first to break the barrier of touch, her curious core aching for a reprieve of its neglect. Her palm rested against his chest, sliding upwards over his collar. Her fingers slid without pause over the lingering scars on his neck that his cloak normally concealed. She did not let it deter her and he returned the gesture with one of appreciation. 

The first kiss was soft as if gently testing the waters.

“Severus…” She whispered feeling his breath rolling across her tempted lips. 

The confirmation of her desire saw his return kiss much more feverish and impassioned. As if seduction had evaded him so long that he dared not let it slip between his fingers. She arched more as his hands passed around her waist to her back, pressing her body into his. Her arms were around his broad shoulders. The kiss was not sloppy, but not at all contained. The only parting was out of the shear need for air. 

“Let’s not waste time, Severus,” She slid her hands to her blouse, yanking it open so the buttons scattered across the room. Her chest heaved, only contained by her lacy brassiere. 

“You witches and your frivolous underthings,” He paused to look into her eyes only a moment before both hands grasped her breasts, squeezing and lifting them as she struggled between a groan and a gasp. Their lips were quick to meet again as he tugged the lace cups down roughly, exposing her breasts directly to his greedy grasp, “Its a shame to cover these at all,”

Severus pulled his lips from hers to let his eyes absorb the visual of her toplessness into his memory. They were perky, their containment unneeded. He lifted one swell to meet his descending mouth, his tongue impatient for the taste of her firm nipples. 

“Holy Merlin’s fuck!” Hermione let her fingers grip his signature black tresses. She didn’t pull them either which way, more or less just holding on to him, “Severus, you devil,” 

“On the contrary, Hermione,” He rose up, stopping a maddening inch from her face, “I believe you’re the devil in this scenario.” Still holding her attention, his hand reached for hers and pressed it firmly against the evidence of her perverse inspiration. She gripped around the rigid shaft, still encompassed by his trousers, but the rush of arousal between her own legs almost left her dizzy. She was thankful for the sturdy post behind her or she’d likely have fallen off balance.

“What torture for you, you poor thing,” She squeezed and palmed his member. She grinned while gnawing her lip, lowering herself by sliding down the post. She knelt her splayed legs at his feet, her hand moving to unfaster his trousers while her humored gaze peered back up at his still serious countenance. 

His angular jaw clenched and shifted as she revealed him, her hand almost surprisingly warm as it wrapped around his vein-laced, pulsing shaft. He noticed her eyes fell upon her prey and she studied it as she stimulated it as if applying a science to extracting his pleasurable nuances. Ever the scholarly approach, typical Hermione.

“It won’t bite, Hermione,” He teased with a taunting chuckle. His fingers were unable to grip into her hair, partially impaired from Nagini’s venom. Instead, his hand slid over the top of her head, gently pushing it back so it rested against the wooden pillar. He stepped closer as her lips lazily lay agape, her chin tilted slightly upward. Her eyes followed the tip of his cock as it prodded against her lips, tainting them with a sticky string of precum before slipping between them. 

Severus’s breath shuddered as he struggled to acclimate to the warmth of her willing mouth. He moved slowly, keeping a shallow depth as she kept submissively still. 

“What a good little witch,” He growled.

Hermione’s now free hands allowed her the freedom to stimulate herself; reaching between her splayed thighs, her skirt allowed her quick access. She couldn’t resist the throb of her own sex, keeping her touch gentle to keep from cumming too quickly. She was desperate for an orgasm, but would rather the first explosion be at the mercy of his penetration.

As his eyes closed and his head tilted back, Hermione took more of an active roll. Her lips tightened around his cock, her tongue wiggled in a slow, purposeful massage. She was thrilled to earn the groan that rumbled in his throat soon after. She gagged but did not relent as his hips pushed him a little beyond her tolerance.

“Hungry little thing, aren’t you?” He tried not to wheeze, but the invigoration of her oral stimulation was nearly impossible to overcome. His balls ached and twitched a little as he pulled himself away, her eager mouth fighting his retreat, “I’d toss those knickers if I were you.” 

Hermione was eager to work the stretched garment down her thighs and let them fall the rest of the way to the floor as she stood again, her hand too covetous to leave his member untouched. 

“Get that cock inside me, Severus, now,” She coolly demanded, her leg lifted, her thigh resting on his hip as her other hand pulled him closer by his collar. His dexterity may have deteriorated, but his own therapies had regained his strength. She giggled a little in surprise as he lifted her other leg, letting them grip around his waist tightly. She was trapped between him and the post as his shaft nestled itself between the lips of her dampened sex, “Severus!” she gasped impatiently.

Hermione groaned a moment later when his swollen glans slipped inside of her, the tip a temporary tease. Severus watched her face intently as he let her weight sink her helplessly. Though she stretched to accommodate him and her cheeks reddened from resisting the urge to cry out louder, he did not allow her more time to acclimate. He flexed his hips, the movement thrusting her upwards only so gravity could force her full of him again, the pleasurable dive escalating now with matching force.

She balled up her fists full of his shirt, her thighs gripping his waist with a surprising strength. Her sex ached from his invasion, but it was a delicious ache that stole her breath from her lungs and made her wish it would never end. 

Severus quickened his thrusts into a satisfying rhythm. It was paced enough to keep her sex constantly roused with pleasure, but not so quickly that it lacked apparent skill. 

“Sev,” Hermione’s eyes fluttered closed as she gasped, then bit the tip of her tongue, “That cock...is fucking magnificent,” 

He felt a tingle in his core, he hadn’t been called ‘Sev’ in years, but something about her husky tone made it a treat to his ear. 

“I was just about to say the same thing about this juicy cunt of yours, Hermione,” He seethed, his thrusts absorbed by her impaled sex. The post behind her did not cushion any of his plunging campaign. She was glad for it, she wanted to feel the entirety of his talent.

They only paused for a moment as the door opened, their drunken state a mix of alcohol and lustful intoxication. The barkeep paused in his tracks, carrying a crate of empty bottles.

“For fucks sake get lost,” Hermione slurred, her cunt completely full of his cock at the moment, “can’t you see someone’s shagging in here??” She barked at the shocked man, who quickly departed with a slightly frightened look on his face. 

“Such a feisty thing,” He was humored by her audaciousness, rewarding her with several quick strokes that pummeled her sex and drew a quivering release from her. She called his name in a raspy plea, slickening his cock so that it slid even more easily and quickly into her. 

Severus felt an overwhelming pleasure that his body had been devoid of for far too long and though he would have preferred to let it linger for hours, the time and place did not allow for such a reality. Perhaps his choice of partner added to his perversion. He leaned into her, pinning her tightly as his mouth latched on to her exposed neck. He suckled and nipped at the flushed flesh, crushing her breasts under the weight of his chest.

Hermione wiggled her hips, trying to match his movement. She tried to satiate the recurring tickle that burned inside of her sex. She chased the impending release with fervor, feeling his movements become more instinctual and primal. His breaths labored into almost gravely moans that matched his pace. 

“Severus….Severus!” She gasped as her release teetered on the edge, “Fuck...fuck! I’m cumming!” She finally exclaimed as the heated explosion swelled her core, making the pusing eruptions of his cumming cock even more pronounced and gratifying. 

Severus felt light-headed as his body’s concentration was on the orgasm that engulfed his being. Her cunt gripped his invading member with a possessive hold, still trembling with aftershocks. 

The room was filled with only the sound of weathered, heaving breaths, desperate to fill their lungs and restore their senses.There was a silent stare between them as her shaking legs released him and he helped her feet back under her. She straightened her skirt and brassiere, noticing a disappointed scowl as she covered her breasts. She only smirked, reaching for her wand as she repaired the buttons on her shirt. 

The bar was empty as they left, save for the barkeep who kept his gaze downturned as they passed. They parted ways with cordial ‘nice to see you again’s’, neither wanting to make awkward their peculiar evening.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The interaction did not leave either of their minds, though they continued about their individual lives as normal. Hermione continued her work alongside the department of International Magical Cooperation, travelling abroad to lands and sights that were thrilling and exciting. But even with her busy occupation, the moment of secret passion wove its way to the front of her thoughts often. 

One particular evening when the draw of self-indulgent pleasure was too prominent to resist, Hermione used that motivation to extend a greeting. She wrote a letter with careful intent and included an enchanted photograph as she folded and sealed it. She entrusted its delivery with a jet-black owl and set it off into the dark night.

The letter was delivered to its intended recipient as he continued his solitary work. His name scrawled in a feminine penmanship is what caught his attention first. When he flipped it over, Hermione’s initials impressed in the wax seal made excitement well up in his belly, though his exterior remained reserved.

Severus,

I very much enjoyed the chance to be in your company the other evening. And what exhilarating company it was. I hope my letter finds you well and please accept this photograph as a token of my admiration.

I look forward with a great deal of interest in our next ‘reunion’.

Warmest Regards,

Hermione

Severus smirked at the simple, concise letter. The smirk faded only slightly as he watched the enchanted photograph move before his very eyes. Though the border provided only a neck down view, the unbuttoning blouse slowly revealing a familiar lace and cleavage made no mystery of its subject. 

[cloudbattrolls]

Sleep With One Eye Open

Notes: Vernrot belongs to @raitrolling! 

Thrixe Varzim || 11.5 sweeps || Vernrot || Present Night

It’s the night after you made it to Vernrot, threw that obnoxious cusp into the harbor, and slept over at Lusien’s hive. But you need to stay at a hotel the rest of the time; you won’t trespass on his hospitality like that. Plus, the more time you spend around him, the more risk he’ll see you as...never mind. You need to be practical, figure out which QPIN contacts need to be checked on, which trade channels might need extra muscle -

“Stop.”

Your fins twitch in recognition, despite your attempts to stop them. You know that hard feminine voice, and you wish you didn’t.

Slowly, to emphasize your complete lack of eagerness to talk to them, you turn to face the two women who’ve apparently followed you here. Unless you’re just that unlucky. 

Neither are tall, one olive and the other yellow. The yellowblood’s short horns are covered by her curly hair, her skin slightly darker than yours and her eyes serious above her grimly set mouth. The olive wears a grin that could seem innocently eager to a troll who’d never met her before, her short straight hair barely reaching past her large, round ears. Both are dressed simply in gray and black clothing, breath from their warmer bodies turning to fog in the cool air.

It was Zelist who spoke to you, and she does so again.

“It’s been long enough. You haven’t contacted us once since you left Derevnya. Our scout observed you coming here of all places. Why?”

You stare at her, annoyed even though you know you shouldn’t be. 

“What are you doing in this town if not pest control, Varzim?” Purrs the oliveblood, now holding a long, sharp knife coated in some sort of glistening substance.

You never much liked Marisa; you don’t think most trolls do, even in her cult. Maybe it’s something about how she always smells of the undead.

Sure enough, Zelist glares at her sharply. “Give him a chance to explain.” She says, voice hard, but her eyes are on you and her suspicion is plain.

“I’ve tried to fight the horrors here. I never made any progress. So I gave up; they’re not actively hurting people, at least. Vernrot is…” you wave a hand vaguely. “Stable. Even if it’s not the kind we’d like.”

“That’s complacent talk, Varzim.” Says Zelist, arms crossed. “You could’ve asked us for help.”

You give her a look, fins twitching as your mouth curls in disdain.

“You people don’t do subtlety. I didn’t want to attract attention.”

She shakes her head, gaze detached but disapproving like one of your proctors would’ve been and for a moment you feel a flicker of guilt. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you should have talked to them, asked them for help...

“We let ourselves be corrupted before, but things have changed. We keep an eye on the other cults now, regulate summonings and artifact use. Everything is getting better. We should be allies, Varzim. We have the same enemies.”

Are the horrorterrors here your enemies?

Of course they are. All horrorterrors are anathema to trollkind. Different faces of the same incomprehensible forces, unable to understand trolls or respect their wellbeing. Too strange and terrible to bargain with.

But the ones here didn’t attack you unless you did first, and when you apologized how Lusien suggested, they went away...

No, you still can’t trust them, you decide. Horrorterrors are always bad.

Still, you trust the blueblood even if he’s wrong. You trust him because he’s the best thing that ever happened to you. 

Even if it treats him badly, Lusien doesn’t want you to hurt Vernrot.

“Maybe we should work together.” You admit. “But I can’t attack this town. I mean, I’ve tried - I think if we threw more at it it would retaliate harder than we can hit. If we find a way to remove the horrorterrors here it can’t be with any collateral damage.”

You remember Sayamh, but push the memory away. He was too far gone to save, the undead wretch. He was better off as bullets.

Zelist purses her lips and Marisa laughs before speaking in her mocking tone.

“So soft you’ve become! I wonder why. Is it ‘the town’ or someone in particular? Something in particular?”

“How dare you.” You say softly, baring your fangs at her implication. “I would never be friendly with a horrorterror. I’m thinking of all the trolls here. None of them have any idea what’s happening! They wouldn’t understand what we were doing. They can’t see it even when it’s in front of their faces.”

Except one, forced to witness it alone as everyone thought he was insane. 

“Then they’re better off purged anyway.” retorts the yellowblood dismissively. “If they’re so oblivious, they could enable the forces here by accident and let something out. The risk isn’t worth it. So help us, Varzim, prove all our suspicions are baseless. This can be easy and straightforward. We can all go hive happy.”

She holds out a hand to you, eyebrows raised.

You believe her. The lowblood is a lot of things, but unlike the olive she’s a woman of her word. She’s practical. Her goals make sense.

You shake your head anyway.

“No. You’re going to fail and this isn’t my fight. I’ll find other terrors to destroy.”

Zelist and Marisa exchange a look, and with a sigh, the yellow hands the green some caegers. The latter pockets them, smug as a satisfied meowbeast.

“Don’t bet against me.” Purrs the higher caste. “I told you when he didn’t cull that possessed cusp it was clear where his loyalties lay.”

Your fins flick in surprise. They know about the scientist? 

“I’d hoped he’d have a good explanation.” Zelist retorts acerbically. “Clearly I was wrong.”

Marisa raises her knife and you knock it out of her hand, so quick that -

You’ve been stabbed.

“Such a simple trick to fall for.” She whispers, and her other hand withdraws a long, serrated blade covered in violet blood that wasn’t there a moment ago.

You try to kick her. Your body doesn’t move. The blood seems to drip off the metal in slow motion as you find you can barely even breathe, frozen in place with outstretched arms. The damp air is cold on your wound, which...isn’t closing.

Your wound isn’t closing.

Zelist shakes her head, and raises her hand to make a short signal. Dozens of other trolls come out, completely covered up in body armor, nets in their hands. 

Your wound bleeds freely, staining your body armor, staining your new shirt.

The trolls close in, nets crackling with energy.

No. No. No. No.

The nets surround you, wrapping you up in a hopeless tangle as they shock you, and your wound isn’t closing - 

You can’t speak. Can’t regrow. Can’t do anything.

Then you remember what you practiced with Teagan, what seems like a million sweeps ago now.

You take their minds. Despite the temptation, you don’t attack like you did with the indigo who threatened Lonnen. You only make them set you free, back off, leave this place and forget what happened, forget the cult itself; you grow new pathways in their minds, wiping away the old.

Breathing heavily once free of the nets, you turn to the pair of women who stare at you, whatever Marisa did having worn off or been purged by your body. Zelist is slack-jawed in amazement while Marisa exhibits a surprised sort of hunger, leaning forward slightly while still holding her blood-covered knife.

“Listen to me.” You say - snarl, really, despite straining yourself to sound civil. “I don’t want to fight you. But I will if I have to. This town is mine.”

Silence reigns for a few moments as the wind blows, bringing the scent of salt and fish.

“Since when could you do that, Varzim?” asks the yellowblood quietly. “You didn’t have that power when you fought the Siren.”

“I didn’t.” You agree. “I’ve learned more about my abilities since then. None of which I feel like sharing with you.” You remark, dry. 

You give them a wry smile with a great deal of sharp seadweller teeth. 

“Something about being stabbed and manhandled has put me in an antisocial mood. We’re done here. Go, before I make you leave.”

The two exchange another look. 

Then Zelist pulls out a gun that reminds you uncomfortably of Sochet’s. The runes, the metal, the make...they’re almost twins, but this one is far newer. 

You duck as a bullet whistles over your head, and you can feel it’s like the ones Sayamh died for - horrorterror essence turned against its source, anathema to your very existence. You pull out your own gun, shooting to keep her and Marisa - damn olive stabbing at you - back.

You fend off both of them, letting your training take over, and get up close to Zelist, knocking the gun out of her hands - even that hurts, making you shudder down to your core.

Then Marisa shoots you in the back and you feel yourself...melt.

Your existence starts to break down, your very presence in reality degrading.

But you can regenerate again.

As the bullet is flung back at its owner, as your monstrous nature takes over and you grow jaws and eyes, tentacles and tendrils growing as your choir of voices sings of victory, of growing unrestrained by troll shape, you struggle against it, but perhaps not as hard as you should.

Trolls warp into nonsense masses of flesh in your sight.

You sing in confusion. In fear. In joy. What odd creatures!

You sing unbothered by what your own flesh just went through, but the whispers of the others grate on you. An irritant, itching at your growth. 

So you raise your voice to drown them out. 

[adventuresinwonderlust]

Title: “Lesson learned.” part 2 to

Pairing: dom! Yoongi x sub! brat! Reader ft. Jin

Warnings: smut, fluff if you squint (really hard, like really hard), established relationship, semi- public sex, fire play, oral (m) receiving, rough sex, spanking, orgasm denial (f), degradation speak, slight aftercare, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks)

Rating: 18 and over

You can hardly take it any longer. You swayed your hips side to side to the music playing and could barely maintain any semblance of humanity as the handsome stranger in the club gripped your hips tightly and proceeded to grind his growing erection against your backside. Tomorrow would officially be three weeks since your enforced punishment and you were bursting at the seams with lust and need. You feel your dance partner nibble on your neck and your body seizes in response. “No,” you shove him off of you, heading back to the VIP area. “Girl! That guy is hot! You need to take him home.” Your best friend goaded you as you drink back a shot of vodka. You shrug in response pouring yourself another shot. “Okay, spill it. You have been a moody bitch since that fucking party forever ago. What’s got your panties in a bunch?” She waits for your response.

“Not what, who?” You kill another drink. “Please don’t tell me that we are talking about that fuck boy Min Yoongi?” She spits. You smirk, taking a deep breath while biting your inner cheek. “He's not a fuck boy.” You manage to say, feeling the painful ache of your lesson between your thighs. She practically cackles. “let’s examine the evidence shall we,” she yanks out her phone, “I heard he fucked Lisa two weeks ago.” She shows you picture of Yoongi and Lisa together on Lisa's Instagram and your stomach turns. She pulls her phone away and begins to click and scroll some more. “Then I heard he fucked Jess just last week.” She shows you a different photo now of Yoongi with Jess and your blood boils. How dare he get his rocks off while you wait around yearning for release?

“So, in my eyes and everyone else around you, he’s a fuck boy. I will say what I always say. Get over him girl.” She throws back a shot now, seemingly pleased with herself. “I have to go.” You tell her now, ordering an Uber, and grabbing your purse. She rolls her eyes but asks if you want her to go with you. You tell her to stay and go out to meet your driver. You are seething in the back of the car, trying your best to keep calm, playing Yoongi's words over and over again in your head. “You’re always so good for me baby. Are you gonna keep being a good girl?” You growl a little at the thought, catching the driver glancing at you from the rear-view mirror.

You type and delete 7 different messages. “Is this it?” The driver grunts. You look up from your phone. “Yes, thank you.” “Be safe, pretty girl like you, shouldn't be alone this late.” You exit the vehicle and make your way up the side alley and around the enclosed house and up a set of stairs. Be brave, you whisper continuously to yourself. You stare at the black front door marked 33 and begin to slam your fist on it over and over until you feel it may bruise. It yanks open suddenly and before you stands, “Jin, hi, is Yoongi here?” He smirks at you. “The real question is, why are you here?” You sense movement inside and can hear music as your adrenaline slows and your surroundings come into play. “Are you guys having a party?” He gives you the old up and down and shakes his head. “Why don’t you come in and find out?” You swallow hard and enter the house.

The house is full of people and you immediately regret your decision to pop up. “No turning back now little birdie,” Jin whispers in your ear, “I think I saw him head to that master bedroom with some female. Perhaps you should go check.” You turn to look at Jin and nod. “I think I will. You think I’m afraid of your brother. He doesn’t own me.” Jin laughs and leans in close to whisper in your ear. “No, he doesn’t own you, just your cunt I imagine.” You shove him hard and head to the back room feeling your face flush. You shove the unlocked door open to find Yoongi sitting up in bed opening and closing a Zippo lighter as a random girl dances seductively for him in her underwear. He stares at her unimpressed but seems to light up at your presence. You are fuming, so much so that you grab her clothes from the ground and toss them at the shocked girl. “Get the fuck out.” You shout at her. She looks at Yoongi who nods for her to leave. She sucks her teeth and flips him the bird as she exits.

The room fills with tension as you and Yoongi stare at each other, neither saying a word. The only sound in the room is your labored breath as your chest rises and falls with your anger and the sound of Yoongi's lighter. “You’re an asshole.” You spew. A smirk slowly spreads across his face. “You forget your place, whore.” He mumbles, slamming the lighter shut and rising to his feet. You go to speak but Yoongi grabs you across the mouth with his hand. You moan at his tight grip as his shoves you down to your knees. “You show up here, uninvited, in an outfit fit for a whore. You kicked out my guest and call me out of my name. What ever should I do with my disobedient little cock whore?” He releases his grip from your mouth. “Speak whore.” He commands. “Punish me.” You whisper so softly, its barely audible. Yoongi takes you by your hair and yanks back hard causing you to cry out. Your swollen pussy soaking itself with need. “Punish me, please, I need release.” You beg.

Yoongi pouts at you and begins running his hand from your hair down your cheek. He kisses you softly before standing upright. “Take your dress off.” He says. You stand quickly, removing the tight fabric from your body. Yoongi walks to his closet and returns with a small duffle bag that he places on the hard wood floor. “Time to see just how good my whore has been.” “I’ve been so good for you sir.” You moan, resisting the urge to reach out for him. He tilts his head, “Who gave you permission to speak?” You swallow hard as he begins to remove his belt. You turn now and lie flat on your stomach on the bed. “So good, so eager.” Yoongi praises and you a soft mewl escapes your lips as your cunt throbs in need. “On your back, let me see that gorgeous cunt.” Yoongi states. You flip over eagerly and spread your legs for him. He moans at the sight. “Already soaked and fuck how swollen she is.” He walks over to you now. You bite your lip and shift your cunt closer to him. He looks down at your dripping sex, sucking in a deep breath before slapping it hard, eliciting a loud animalistic cry from you. You arch your back as he gazes upon you with lust in his eyes. “You’re such a sexy little whore. Are you gonna be a good girl for me? I have the best surprise for you tonight.” You nod excited as he lands another open-handed slap on your pussy before sliding two finger inside you. “Yoongi, fuck, God.” Your toes curl as he rubs your g spot and your orgasm quickly begins to build. “Please, I need this so bad.” You plead with him. He growls at your remarks adding his thumb to your clit to continue his assault on your pussy. “Your pussy feels so good, so tight around my fingers baby.” He pants, hungrily fucking you. “Is my pussy better than Lisa or Jess?” You ask as you feel that familiar coil tightens and you clench down around Yoongi's long fingers. Your head drops back as you feel your walls shake. “Yes, don’t stop.” You cry but to no avail as Yoongi yanks his fingers from you just as your high begins to hasten.

You cry out in despair, covering your mouth with your hand. As you go to sit up and protest, Yoongi enters you with his massive cock, stretching you wide. You wrap your arms around his neck as he grabs you by the waist and begins to glide you back and forth with ease along his cock. You feel your climax rising slowly from the pit of your stomach one again as you nuzzle close to Yoongi’s neck. “You’re so fucking tight, is my cock slut ready to cum already?” Yoongi moans into your ear. You try your best to stifle your moans but your so close to sweet release you can barely contain yourself. You begin rocking your hips so hard into Yoongi's cock he’s fearing his own climax rising. “Fuck.” You whisper as your coil snaps. Yoongi feels your walls clench and tosses you back on the bed before you can cum. You cry out in frustration as Yoongi licks his lips watching you squirm. “You fuck.” You growl. “Let that be a lesson to never mention any other women to me again.” He smirks. He looks over to the duffle bag.

“On the floor, now.” You barely manage to get there, as your legs feel like putty but you decide not to give push back. Only this man has that much power. Only he commands you, only he can have you do the things you do. So, you lie back on the cool hardwood floor like a good girl. Like his good girl. He kneels beside you and opens his duffle bag. “Do you trust me?” He asks. “Yes.” You respond without a second though. He leans down and kisses you gently. He takes out a bottle of ethanol, a rag, a blanket, some balm, and his zippo. Your body shivers at the sight of these items. “You know what to say if it’s all too much?” You nod. “Say it.” “Yellow, sir.” You respond. “Arms up and keep them there. Bend your legs. No moving, no matter how much you want to.” He instructs as he sits on your feet. You nod again. You watch Yoongi as he wets the rag in the ethanol and glides it across your belly, the cold path causing your skin to goose. He immediately snaps open his Zippo and ignites the ethanol. You gasp at the sight, feeling the warmth from the flame cause your pussy to soak down to the floor while Yoongi quickly snuffs it out with his free hand.

You release a breath you didn’t know you had in you as Yoongi begins to glide the wet rag across your body again. You moan as your core tightens with the ignition and snuffing of the flames. Yoongi repeats this pattern three more times and you cannot control how your adrenaline builds and your juices flow or the way your cunt tenses. All you know is you’ve never experienced such pleasure in your life as Yoongi sets the ethanol on your belly ablaze one final time and snuffs it out, feeling your whole body shake as your coil shatters cumming so violently you scream Yoongi’s name into the room.

Your body continues to shake as small tremors pulse through your body. Yoongi takes you into his arms and begins to caress your back and pepper your face with kisses. “Happy birthday baby.” He whispers. You moan softly before straddling his waist and lining his cock up with your entrance. He moans as you take him fully. You need more of him and now. “My greedy little whore. You gonna swallow up all my cum like a good girl?” “Yes, sir.” You grunt riding him wildly, digging your nails into his back. He licks his lips as he takes you by the thighs slamming you up and down on his cock. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He warns. You ride him faster and faster. “Now baby. Fuck.” You jump off of him and quickly take him into your mouth swallowing down his cock to the root as he shoots his seed into your throat. He cries out as your Bob up and down on his now sensitive member. Finally coming up for air, he pulls you close to him again. “Such a good girl for me. Has my sweet girl learned her lesson?” “Yes, sir, Lesson learned.” You whisper, resting your head against his chest.

[trashscenariihxh]

Pariston x Fem!Reader

You’ve lost your phone.  It’s found by the worst person possible.  Another commission.  TW for degradation, dubcon, and Paristonian nonsense.

When you couldn’t find your phone one morning, you thought nothing of it.  You often misplaced it, often on silent, so you resigned yourself to a morning of painstakingly retracing your steps.  You knew that it was in the house; with some relief, you recalled using it to listen to music as you showered the night before.  To your annoyance, your phone was not where you’d left it. You wanted to ask Pariston if he’d seen it, but he’d already left for work, so you were stuck phoneless until you either stumbled upon it yourself, or until your boyfriend returned home and helped you find it.

As it turned out, you did not find your phone, and you were stuck music-less and message-less until Pariston arrived home.  He didn’t arrive until well past 9 pm, which, while not entirely unusual, irked you. It would have been nice if today of all days he’d arrived on time…

“Hello, Darling,” he greeted mellifluously, striding into the house looking no worse for wear despite the over 12 hour work day he’d just had.  

You smiled at him, his presence serving as a ray of sunshine to your annoyance-darkened day.  “Welcome back.”  You took his jacket and hung it up, just as he liked before giving him a peck on the lips.  “How was your day?”

“Fine, fine.” He waved dismissively before fixing you with one of his unblinking, smiling stares.  “And how was your day?”  He cast his gaze over the cluttered living room.  “…relaxing, I trust?”

“Not exactly.”  You sighed.  “Pariston, I’ve lost my phone.  Have you seen it?”

“Your phone?”  He rubbed his still-smooth chin. “No, I haven’t seen it recently.”

“Hmph.”  You frowned.  “I know it’s here somewhere… I just can’t find it.”

Pariston laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you in for a kiss.  “Don’t worry about, that, Darling,” he murmured, kissing you softly.  “Why don’t you go and get ready for bed?”  

You kissed him again, melting into him, lost in the light floral scent of his cologne.  “Will you join me?”

“Of course.”  He drew back, smiling down at you.  “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?”  You cocked your head.  “What is it?”

“I can’t tell you.” He laughed.  “I’ll show you before bed.  Now hurry,” he gently pushed you away from him.  “I’ll meet you up there soon.  Now get ready for bed.”

You nodded, knowing better than to protest, and headed upstairs to shower.

***  

You liked to take your time in the shower, but tonight you rushed through your nightly routine.  A surprise?  You enjoyed surprises, and yet, there was something off about Pariston tonight. Something unfamiliar.  Anticipation mingled with another feeling in the pit of your stomach.  What was it exactly?  Apprehension? Nervousness.  No.  Dread. Why you felt this way, you didn’t know, but a nagging voice in the back of your head told you that this might not be a surprise you wanted.

You turned off the water, stepped out of the shower, dried yourself off and slipped into a silky black bathrobe.  One of Pariston’s many gifts to you.  

“Sorry that took so long,” you called out.  “I was just…” You froze when you entered the bedroom. Pariston was sitting at the foot of the bed, his usual smile plastered to his face.  He held your phone in his hand.  “My phone,” you stuttered out, looking at him in disbelief.  “Where did you find it?”

“Oh, just laying around.” His lips quirked in what could have been mirth, except there was no humor in his sepia eyes.  “You really should be more careful, ____.”

You reached for the phone but he held it out of reach.  “Ah-ah!” He held up his hand.  “You really need to take better care of your possessions, Darling.  Especially something like this!  Who knows what… information someone might stumble upon.  Especially if a phone isn’t password protected.”

You swallowed at his words, a lump beginning to form in your gut.  What was he implying?  Would he… no, he wouldn’t.  He couldn’t.”

“You always seemed like such a sweet girl, you know?  So sweet and innocent.”  He cocked his head to the side and smiled at you, a soft giggle beginning to shake his voice.  “Imagine my surprise when I saw the filth you’ve been looking at.”

Your heart stopped, your blood turned to ice.  So he had looked.  “Pariston-“ your voice hitched desperately as you reached for the phone again.

Pariston moved quickly, far quicker than you’d ever seen him move.  He grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back.  “Did I say you could take this?”  He shook the phone enticingly in front of your face?  “Hm?” When you didn’t answer, he jerked your head from side to side.  “No, I did not.”  He slipped it into his pocket before forcing you onto your knees.

“To think,” he lamented, his face contorted into a theatrical expression of despair as he fiddled with his belt, “I treated you like a princess.  A house, gifts, all the spending money you could ever want… and all you wanted was to be treated like a cheap whore this whole time.  Such a shame, Darling, an absolutely dreadful shame.” He managed to undo his belt and trousers with one hand, extricating his cock from its expensively-tailored confines. With surprising strength, he jerked your head forward.  “Suck it,” he crooned, grabbing his cock and holding it to your lips, “suck it like a good little whore.”

You suppressed the rising wave of disgust and opened your mouth.  Pariston had always been persuasive.  As you took his still-soft cock into your mouth, your stomach twisted. Where had the sweet man you’d always known gone?  Who was this monster who’d replaced him?

Pariston’s cock stiffened rapidly as you sucked him off, but his grip on your hair didn’t relent in the slightest.  “That’s it, that’s a good whore,” he praised, holding your head in place as he jerked his hips forward, “take all of my cock.”

You choked when his now fully-hard cock hit the back of your throat and tried to pull back, but found yourself being forced down even further.  “What’s the matter?” Pariston taunted, hips still snapping forward, ramming himself further down your throat, “I thought this is what you wanted?  Don’t tell me I’m mistaken.”

Tears began to gather at the corners of your eyes as shame and the limits of your gag reflex began to overcome you.  From above you, Pariston giggled.  

“I never knew you were so ugly when you cried, ____.”  His grip on your hair tightened and he held you in place, his cock down your throat, effectively choking you.

“Why are you crying? You wanted this.”

The remark stung, not because he was making unfounded accusations, but because he was right. Pariston now had his finger on the pulse of your desires; there was no hiding them from him.  His hips jerked forward a few times, and just as the rapidly forming tears began to fall down your face, he came down your throat with a soft grunt.

“Don’t you dare choke,” Pariston warned as you heaved, gag reflex rebelling.  “Swallow all of me like a good whore.”

You didn’t know how you managed it, but you swallowed every  for drop of his release.  Once Pariston was satisfied, he pulled you off of his cock.  You wheezed, gasping for air in choked sobs.  You relief lasted only a moment; Pariston gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilted your head back to look up at him.

He regarded you for a few moments, yet another smile spreading across his flawless face.  He gave your cheek a little slap with his free hand, then another, before backhanding you hard across the face.

You cried out, reeling from the force of the strike.  Pariston had never hit you before; you’d never asked him to, it being something that had always lain beyond the realm of things you could ask of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, rubbing his knuckles, “now.  Hands and knees. Take off the robe.”

You obeyed, despite logic screaming at you not to.  Pariston was being cruel, mocking; and yet you couldn’t say no to him.  Despite the shame and humiliation, your entire body buzzed with the desire, the need to be dominated.  It coursed through your body, lighting up your nerve endings with a certain itch; you needed more of whatever Pariston was planning to give you, no matter the cost.

The blonde stood behind you, his large hands caressing the curve of your ass and squeezing the fat of your thighs.  You whimpered when you felt his finger running along your slit.

“So wet,” he observed, his voice teetering on the edge of a chuckle.  “I never would have guessed what a filthy slut you were.  Good thing I know now.”  He pressed two fingers into you, drawing out a moan.  “I’d fuck you, but you see, who knows where you’ve been?” he continued conversationally, pumping his fingers in and out, crooking them to press against your g-spot.  “I’m feeling generous, though, and may let you cum, if you’re good.”

“P-Pariston-“ you moaned out weakly, legs beginning to shake.  A loud smack echoed throughout the room when Pariston brought his hand down hard onto your ass; your moan morphed into a keen of agonized pleasure.

“I didn’t say you could talk.” He continued to finger you; you could feel his unyielding eyes boring into your back.  “But, as you’re so insistent on opening your slut mouth, why don’t you address me properly.”

Properly?  What did he mean by properly?

“Pariston?”

He smacked you again, this time much harder than the last. “Don’t be stupid.  Do it properly.”

“Mr. Hill?”

Another smack, this one so hard you cried out.  “No.  I want you to call me by the name the whores in those stories you read use.”

Oh. Oh.  Your cheeks burned with humiliation as the realization of what he wanted finally dawned on you.

“Daddy?”

“Daddy what?”

“Daddy please!”

“Please what?”

You swallowed the last remnants of pride.  “Please let me cum, Daddy.”

Pariston hummed in satisfaction.  “See? Now that wasn’t so hard now was it?” He began to finger you quicker, reaching around with his other hand to stroke your clitoris.  When you didn’t respond, he asked again.  “Was it?”

“N-no Daddy,” you answered, biting your lip as your orgasm approached.

“Good girl.”

That did it.  That tiny modicum of praise sent you reeling over the edge; your walls spasmed around Pariston’s fingers, coating them with wetness.

“Filthy.”  Pariston withdrew his fingers and wiped them on a tissue he grabbed from the bedside table.  “Absolutely disgusting.”

You collapsed on the bed, too exhausted from your orgasm to really care.  The shame of what had just happened was slowly setting in, but so was exhaustion.

“Go take a bath.” Pariston’s voice cut through the fog of your post-orgasmic bliss.

“But I just—”

“Go.  Take a bath.”  Pariston’s voice was quiet and flat.  Deadly serious.  “You’re going to need to get nice and clean before I allow you to sleep next to me, you know?”  He stroked your hair softly.  “I can’t just let a slut like you sleep in this bed with me now, can I?”  The gentleness of his voice contrasted sharply with the harshness of his words.

Nodding, you sat up, tears threatening to spill again, and hurried to the bathroom.  As soon as the door closed, you gave in to the urge and allowed the sobs to overwhelm you, not caring if Pariston could hear.  For all you knew, he liked hearing you cry.

[steveng-rogers]

Hostie and Wine PRIEST AU(happygowriting kinktober day 1=Food Kink )

Pairings: Stucky(StevexBucky), Dandy(DaytonxAndy), slight Ducky(DaytonxBucky) Dark-ish!Steve and Andy. College boys Bucky and Dayton. 

Rating: M+ (to be clear that is Mature, meaning if you’re under the age of 18 DO NOT READ or INTERACT)

Word Count:  4,143 

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ ONLY. M/M. Heavy blasphemy kink. Food kink. Restraints, gagging(not too heavy). Dirty talk, mild degrading. Alcohol. Demonic chants(not too weird, translation will be at the end of the fic) the real warning is the bad Latin. Blowjobs, hand jobs, anal sex, male giving and receiving. Praise kink. (If there are any thats not listed and you think I should list, let me know)

Summary: Harmless fun for Bucky and Dayton turns into a fantasy filled night with the help of father Steve and Father Andy. 

A/N:  I used CPDV(Catholic Public Domain Version) translation of the Bible because it’s easier to understand. I don’t know any Latin, so what you find here is google translated. Don’t repost this anywhere unless you have asked me for permission. I worked very hard on this :) thankyou for curtisbb for proof reading this and happygowriting for providing this awesome prompts. 

    Morning Sunday mass, early, boring, and so hard to pay attention to. It’s 

their day off and if it were any other colleges, they would be in bed and do

 whatever they desired. But being in a Catholic private college means they live

 under a strict rule of Catholicism and their many masses and some might say

 “rituals”. 

    Dayton White and Bucky Barnes are now sitting on the third row from the 

altar. Not stiff enough to sit on the very first row and not rebellious enough to

 sit in the back row like those hooligans. Plus they have enough heads to keep

 them from getting in trouble from talking to each other and from here they 

have enough distance between those heads to steal glances at their new

 priests. That is exactly their topic of whispers for almost three weeks now. 

    They look at each other, giving each other the “eyes” when the Bishop is 

trying to use slang or use any remarks to be funny. 

    “In our reading today we learned that Jesus was brought out by the spirit to

 be tempted by Satan. Now as you all know Jesus was or rather still is the OP

 (Over Powered)  man and God. He refused to be tempted you see..”

    Dayton rolled his eyes, really OP? “What is this? A video game convention?”

 Bucky laughs quietly at Dayton’s comment, making sure to bow his head so it’ll

 look like he’s coughing or something. Dayton smirks and pat Bucky’s back to

 make it more convincing to others that are watching. The angels and the

 heavens are not the only ones who've been watching the two, there are two

 pairs of glistening blues who already set their eyes on them. They know their 

ticks and their subtle coded movements. 

    Dayton felt the burns of their stare and because he is Dayton White he

 dares to look at the two priests. Father Andrew Barber holds up a finger to his

 lips, ever so subtle and quick to tell him to “hush” and Father Steve Rogers on

 the other side of him, just raised his eyebrows at the younger men. Dayton

 nudges Bucky’s elbow and points with his chin to them. He looks up, a little too

 quickly and finds Father Steve already looking at him. They look away and

 back to the Bishop. Both of the young men feel the cold shiver running down 

their spines, making them clutch the matte black blazer of their school’s 

uniform tighter around their body. Something is amidst. Something dark.  

    “And just like Jesus said in Matthew 4 verse 7, you can say to Satan that

 they cannot tempt you for you are a child of God and your faith will save you.” 

    When the time of the communion came, their favorite part. They wait for

 their turn and go in line to receive their hostie and wine. The body and the

 blood of Jesus. 

    Father Andrew holds out the white, round hostie and Dayton submissively

 opens his mouth to receive it. And father Andrew places the hostie in Dayton’s

 mouth and gives a light pressure on his thumb as it reaches the top of

 Dayton’s tongue. Bucky on the other hand is on his way to receive the wine

 from none other than Father Steve. Father Steve extends the gold chalice to

 Bucky and Bucky couldn’t help but to lick his lips. The wine is not the one he

 had in mind to satiate his thirst and father Steve saw that in his eyes. So he

 tips the chalice to Bucky’s mouth, his index finger brushes lightly against

 Bucky’s lips as it was so strategically placed on the outline of the chalice by

 father Steve. 

    No one noticed when these exchanges happened, for they are subtle and

 very easy to miss. But for the four of them, it leaves them breathless and

 wanting more, so much more. 

    Long after the mass was done and dinner was served, Bucky and Dayton

 decided to lounge around their common room. Dayton is sitting on the sofa,

 close to the window, catching up on some assigned reading and Bucky is

 sitting close to the fireplace finishing up his essay. After hours, both boys grew

 bored. Their minds start to idle and they can’t seem to concentrate on their

 task. And the saying goes, “An idle mind is the devil’s workshop.” Usually 

Dayton is the one who would come up with things to do, but today Bucky came

 up with something. Rather devilish. 

    “Dayton.” Bucky closes his laptop and sits towards his bestfriend, a playful 

grin on his face.

    “What is it?” Dayton looks up from his book and raises his eyebrows at him,

 clearly interested. 

    “You know when the priests and church staff go to sleep right?”

    “Yeah, around 9 oclock. Why?”

    “What do you say we steal some hostie and raid the wine cellar?” Bucky

 suggested and Dayton just shakes his head, impressed at how reckless Bucky

 is being right now. 

    “No and you know why.”

    Bucky stood and went over to Dayton. “They’re not yet blessed, so we'd only

 be guilty of stealing. Plus the confession room opens tomorrow and you know 

who is going to be there.” Dayton thought about being alone in the room with 

father Andrew and he’s sold. 

   “Okay fine, you got me. If we get caught, you’re taking the blame.”

    “Alright so you’re calling cauliflower?” Bucky said their code word and

 Dayton gave him a nod. The plan is locked and loaded. 

     Around nine oclock, the two best friends waited until the light on their hal

l was dimmed. Then Bucky leads them to a room where the unblessed hostie

 are made. Dayton waited outside while Bucky went in to snatch some bags of 

hostie, sure they tasted like nothing but when you’re tempted the devil will help

 you indulge. 

    Then out of the corner of his eyes, Dayton saw two figures walking towards

 where he is at. It was so dark and Dayton can only see dark shadows and by

 God, if these are ghosts he’s gonna make a run for it. Then as they walk

 closer, Dayton can make up the outline of a face and oh. Oh. He knows that 

beard, those broad shoulders, and the cross necklaces. It’s the twin priests.

 They were too busy arguing quietly until father Andrew saw him and father 

Steve followed his gaze. 

    “Mister White? What are you doing out so late?” Father Andrew raises his

 eyebrows in question and Dayton can feel his palms getting clammy. 

    “And where is mister Barnes? You two are usually together, are you not?” 

Father Steve asked as he looked around for Bucky. Dayton smiles nervously 

and reminds himself to be calm.

    “Oh well, Barnes and I are looking for uh..” He trails off as he hears Bucky’s 

footsteps getting closer to the door. “Cauliflower!” Dayton exclaimed, loud 

enough for Bucky to hear and the footsteps stopped abruptly. 

    “Cauliflower?” Father Steve and Father Andrew look at each other and back

 at Dayton. 

    “For what?” Dayton cursed in his heart, damn it. “For a project that we’re 

working on.”

    “Well, I better not find you in the confession booth tomorrow confessing

 about this lie. Or they will be severe punishments.” Father Andrew 

emphasized on the word punishment and that sends chills throughout Dayton’s

 body. 

    “Yes, father.” With that the two priests left him there and once they’re out of 

sight, Dayton exhales and knocks on the door for Bucky to come out. “Oh my

 god, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Bucky laughs with the bag of hostie in

 his hands. “Shut up, we almost got caught.” Bucky grins and throws one of the

 bags at Dayton. “But we didn't, so come on. One more stop.” 

    Dayton went inside the wine cellar this time and Bucky was outside, to look

 out for them. Once they got the goods, they head back to their dorm room 

completely unaware that they’ve been followed. 

    The clock strikes midnight and the two boys are enjoying their wine and 

hostie in their dorm room. They’ve spiked the wine with vodka, a gift from their

 Russian friend Pietro. They’re a giggling mess, the slight buzz was a nice 

feeling, and the tasteless hostie somehow is sweeter in their mouths. 

    At exactly 12:12 am, the door opened and the boys were met with large 

figures standing on the door. “You didn’t lock the fucking door Barnes.” Dayton

 glares at Bucky, who is now looking up at father Steve. “I’m sorry..” 

    “What do we have here?” Father Steve crouches down and grabs the 

opened bag of hostie from Bucky’s hand. 

    “This doesn’t look like a cauliflower, does it?” Father Andrew asked as he 

inhaled the tip of the wine bottle. 

    Bucky and Dayton weren't sure on what to do other than to look up to the 

two men. “But you knew that Dayton and Bucky?” Father Andrew looked into 

their eyes. Both boys look down, shame burns the words out of their mouths. 

    “Come on, you two are smart right? Use your words.” Father Steve edge on.

 But they can’t even whisper a word out. “Get up both of you.” Dayton can feel

 his legs wobbles as he slowly stood. Bucky was not much better because he’s

 still on the ground. 

    “Bucky.” Father Steve warns and Bucky immediately stands. “We can expel 

the both of you for this. Do you want that?” Father Steve said, tilting Bucky’s

 chin up to look at him. Both boys shake their heads. “Didn’t I say use your 

words?” He warned them, annoyance laced his tone. “N-no father.” Bucky 

managed to stammer out. 

    “Please we’ll do anything to not get expelled.” Dayton finally spoke. “Hm 

anything?” Father Andrew hums as he locks the door behind him. “Yes, father 

Andrew anything.” He stalks over and stands in front of Dayton. “Call me 

Andy.” Dayton swallows the lump on his throat and nods. The older men

 exchange a knowing look to each other and when they turn their heads to the 

boys, the pupils in their eyes grow dark. The younger boys gasp, prickles of

 arousal dance down their bodies as the men extend their hands out to them. 

    Steve snakes his arm around Bucky’s waist and Bucky voluntarily steps 

closer to him, pressing their bodies together. Andy runs his index finger down

 Dayton’s jawline slowly, eyes following Dayton’s lips. 

    “Kiss me.” They whisper to the boys with their lips so temptingly close to 

them. 

    Bucky and Dayton close their eyes and kiss them. Dayton almost whimpers 

when Andy returns his kiss, so demanding his kiss was. He kissed Dayton so 

deeply, almost as if he wanted a taste of the wine he’d been drinking. 

    Bucky inhales deeply when Steve kisses him back, so soft as if he is to savor

 Bucky’s lips with his. He wraps his arms around Steve’s shoulder, one hand 

running through his golden locks and he tugs as Steve bites down on his lips. 

That earned Steve a hopeless moan from Bucky. 

    Andy backs Dayton to his bed. His lips find its ways to Dayton’s neck as he 

pushes him down to his bed. “Been wanting to taste you. Ever since you lick 

my finger on our first communion. You know exactly what you’re doing to me.” 

Andy whispers with his thumb brushing against Dayton’s lower lips and he bites

 down on his thumb teasingly. “ ‘course I do father, had to lay my claim on you.”

 Andy chuckles, dark and deep as he tugs Dayton’s white button down off. 

    Steve has Bucky’s legs wrapped around his waist as they kiss hungrily.

 When Bucky lays down on the bed and looks up, Steve’s black button down

 was already half opened thanks to Bucky’s wandering hands. Steve ripped his

 shirt open and maybe it’s the alcohol, but Bucky lost it as he looked up, seeing 

Steve’s bare chest and the little sun tattoo just underneath his left collar bone.

 He groans and moans out, “Daddy.” Steve smirks down at him. “Oh? You’re 

daddy’s boy huh?” Bucky’s face flushed red, pupils blown darker than the new

 moon. “Hm.” And he nods. Steve huffs, hand palming Bucky’s crotch “Use your

 words Bucky.” He gasps out, “Yes! I’m daddy’s boy.” 

    Andy pulls down Dayton’s pants along with his red briefs, then he starts to 

stroke his length drawing sweet little noises from him. “You’re already

 throbbing baby. What happens if I put my mouth on you hm? Are you gonna 

cum right away like a horny teenager?” Dayton groans in protest. Sure he had 

been deprived of this kind of fun, but that doesn’t mean he and Bucky hadn’t 

fooled around or that he was an inexperienced virgin. “Why don’t you find out

 mister Barber? Put your mouth around me and I’ll prove to you how 

‘inexperience’ I am?” Dayton smirks, he can see a flash of anger on Andy’s

 dark eyes. “You think you’re in charge here? Oh I don’t think so.  I am and 

you’ll do as I say.” Andy pulls his belt off his waist and runs the metallic tip on 

Dayton’s bare chest, making him tremble. “I told you there is going to be a 

severe punishment if I caught you and here we are.” 

    Bucky was bare as the day he was born, a quivering, and a flushed little 

thing Steve thought. “Play with yourself sweetheart, imagine it was me just like 

you’ve been confessing in the booth.” Bucky bites down on his bottom lips,

 trying to contain his moans as he slides his hand up and down his own cock. 

Steve grabs the bottle of wine and takes a huge swig out of it, palming himself 

as he watches Bucky play with himself. “Don’t bother being quiet, come on let

 daddy hear how good you sound .” Bucky’s toes curl as he moans out Steve’s

 name. “O-ohhh S..S-Steve, daddy please touch me, touch me.” Steve takes 

another swig of the wine, then he leans down to kiss Bucky, filling his mouth 

with the red liquid. “Good boy, keep going. Keep touching that pretty thing. 

Make daddy proud.” Bucky is a sucker for praises and Steve amplified that, 

with his husky and soft voice and Steve, he goddamn knows it. 

    Dayton’s hand is now all tied up to the upper railing on his bed, his fingers 

bare down on his palm, making his knuckles white as Andy toys around with 

his nipples. “Don’t you make a fucking sound. Or I’ll edge you and make you

 watch your best friend get fucked like you wanted while you’re here,

 pathetically begging for me to make you cum.” Andy sits up and takes his 

black button down off him, showing off the little moon tattoo under his left collar

 bone and that makes Dayton’s mouth water at the thought of having his mouth

 all over that tattoo. “Maybe I like to be edge Andy, won’t be the first time I 

watched my best friend get his way.” Now that was a mistake and Dayton was 

too late to pull back. Andy fished out his white, clergy collar, and enfold it

 around Dayton’s jaw, muffling his mouth. The priest breaks down the hostie 

into smaller pieces, placing it down Dayton’s chest to his happy trail where the

 skin glistens with Dayton’s precum. “I want you to remember that verse from

 Luke 22nd, about the last supper. Recite it, the last of verse 19.” Andy pulls 

down the collar just a little so Dayton could talk. The younger man breathes 

heavily as he tries to remember it. “This is my body, which is given for y-you. 

Do this as a commemoration of me ohh...” Andy growls as he licks and eats

 the white pieces of hostie along Dayton’s body. “Good, good boy.” He coos

 softly, putting the collar back on to Dayton’s mouth. 

    Bucky almost came under Steve’s watch and of course, Steve being the 

sadist that he is pulls his hand away. Bucky whined, closing his legs to hide his

 painfully hard on from Steve. “No sweetheart, keep it wide open. I want you to

 recite the memory verse I have given you. Come on I’ll help you, Luke 22nd,

 the last of verse 20.” Bucky’s wine stained lips quiver as he struggles to

 ground himself, Steve is all but smiles and proud because he knows Bucky

 could do it. “This.. uhm chalice is the new covenant in my blood, which will be

 shed f..f-for you.” Steve opens up Bucky’s jaw and pour the remaining of the

 wine into his mouth. “Drink sweet boy and don’t waste a single drop.” Steve

 commands him and Bucky gulps it down like he was told to. Before Bucky 

could finish, Steve wraps his hand around Bucky’s neck and squeezes it, 

enough to make him gasp and then he kissed him like a starved man. His 

other hand, strokes Bucky’s cock making the younger man moan into their 

kiss. “Bucky, sweetheart. Cum on my hand. You deserve it, for being so fucking

 good to me.” He whispers as he licks the droplets of the red liquor along 

Bucky’s lips and like the command of God, Bucky moans out and came all over

 the priest’s hand. “Ah! Steve-oh god, da-daddy..ah.” Bucky’s whole body 

trembles as Steve strokes his cock some more. 

    Andy and Steve are prepared to have this moment with them, have been 

planning it for months, and it’s finally here. They came willingly, well one of 

them certainly did. They glances at each other as they grab the small pack of 

lube that they’ve brought with them. Once they’ve stripped themselves naked 

and on their knees above their chosen ones, the twins starts to chant 

something like prayers under their ragged breaths. 

            “Satanas Domino, per gratiam tuam

            Concede mihi precor te 

            Ut ad virtutis in 

            Mente consipere ac reddere 

            Quam ad facere cupio.” 

    Steve teases the rim of Bucky’s hole and he shudders, still sensitive from 

coming too hard. Steve hush him quietly as he slides his lube coated fingers 

into him. Stretching him open and getting him ready for him. “Barely put up a 

fight with me. Was I always the subject in your wet dreams Bucky? Those 

things you’ve confessed to me in that dark booth, all me huh?” Bucky thought 

he was being subtle, but the shame of getting caught shot arousal to his dick

 and he tightened around Steve’s digits. “Answer me.” Steve demands and

 Bucky whimpers out, “Yes, yes. ‘S all you Steve.” 

    Dayton is painfully hard, he wanted to protest, but his mouth is stuffed and

 not in the way that he likes. Andy chuckles darkly at his attempts and without

 warning he drips the cold liquid of the lube on Dayton’s red rim and that earns

 him a choked out moan from Dayton. “You’ve finally found your match? 

Somehow you know only I can make you like this, you came with me with your

 inappropriate comments thinking that I might blush and came again wishing

 that I do them to you.” Andy slides his digits in and made a scissoring motion 

inside him, Dayton bites down on the collar trying his hardest to be quiet. Andy

 adds to the torture as he licks and sucks on the top of Dayton’s cock. 

“Mmmph-Andy!..” 

    They toy and play around with the two for what feels like hours. They want 

them savored and teased like Satan did to Eve in the garden of Eden. 

    Steve strokes himself and with Bucky all ready for him, he slid inside him 

slowly. Bucky immediately tightened around him, feeling every veins on Steve’s

 cock. “F-fuck Steve.” He moans desperately, cock already twitching and 

wanting to cum again. “By God Bucky, don’t you cum before I tell you to.” Steve

 sets a slow pace until he’s all sheathed inside him. “Fuck. Oh yes, all hot and 

tight for me. All for me huh Bucky? Goin to fuck the sweet sin into you.” Bucky 

wraps his legs around Steve, hands on his back with his fingers clawing at the 

older man’s back. Steve’s words, his cock, and the way his hand squeezes his 

legs made Bucky desperate to let go, but he can’t it all feels so good and all he

 wanted is for Steve to have him like this for the rest of his days. “Daddy oh 

god, ngh- please fuck me, harder Oh!” Steve grabs the headboard and starts

 to fuck him slow and hard, making Bucky feel every inch of him. 

    Andy has Dayton’s legs on his shoulders as he keeps teasing him, sweeping

 the tip of his cock and slowly putting it inside Dayton but not quite fucking him. 

Dayton let out a frustrated, pushing his hips down to seek more of Andy. 

“Darling you’ve got to earn it, you know that don’t you?” Tears slipped down 

Dayton’s flush cheeks, he’s so unbelievably hard and he hasn’t cum in the last 

hour. He’s aching and desperate for Andy to just fuck the daylight out of him. 

Andy took the collar off Dayton’s mouth, wanting to listen to Dayton’s pleas 

more clearly. “Andy please, you’ve tortured me enough, ah-I can’t please.” 

Andy smiles devilishly, kissing Dayton’s wet cheeks. “Can’t what hm? Take it 

anymore?” Dayton nods, his walls finally crumbling down under Andy’s touch.

 “I love hearing you beg. That honeyed voice of yours darling.” Andy gave 

Dayton what he'd been pleading for and Dayton swore he saw the halo on top 

of Andy’s head as he felt the delicious stretch on his hole. Dayton’s hole 

swallows Andy’s dick almost all the way in and Dayton is already a whimpering 

mess under the priest. Andy pushed in some more till he bottoms out, making 

Dayton cry out in pleasure, “Jesus-ah! Andy, A-ah Andy.” The said man starts 

one unrelenting pace as he pressed Dayton’s legs up to his chest to fuck him 

deeper. “Sweet heavens, you felt better than I’d imagine. Look the way you

 take my cock. Like a good fucking whore.” 

    Steve fucked Bucky until he’s on his third orgasm, Bucky is all but a writhing,

 sweet thing under him and Steve hasn’t even come once, but he’s so 

goddamn close. Steve’s hand closed around the metal railing of the headboard

 as he moves his hips hard against him. “Steve, Steve oh daddy. Fuck, fuck. ‘S 

too much.” Bucky whined, high pitched and breathy and that edged Steve on

 even more. “Almost sweetheart, daddy’s gonna cum in you yeah? Fill up that 

sweet ass of yours and make you cum again.” Bucky clenches around Steve, 

making Steve bend the metal in his hand. He rams his hips harshly as he 

finally spills his seed inside Bucky and Bucky moans lewdly as his own cock 

twitch and he came for the fourth time. “Ouhh daddy. Steve hahh.” Steve holds

 Bucky close as he rides his high, his hand loosened around the metal and he

 moans deeply in Bucky’s ear. 

    Andy has Dayton on all fours, his reddened ass in the air and his face all 

flushed against the pillow. Andy spanks Dayton’s ass as he rails him from

 behind, making Dayton whined all high pitched into the pillow that he’s 

clutching. “Fucking Christ Dayton, darling look at you. All nice and fucked out.

 Want me to cum inside you hm? Fill you nice till all you can feel is me?” Andy 

whispered in Dayton’s ear with his deep voice that made Dayton shiver. “Yes,

 yes. Give it to me. Fill me up, fill me up -ah!” Andy rams that sweet spot of 

Dayton’s as his hand snakes down to pump his cock. “Cum Dayton, you’ve 

earned it. Be a sweet boy for me darling, make me fucking proud.” Dayton’s 

mouth falls open, but not a whisper of word comes; instead his ass clenches 

around Andy’s cock as his cock shoots out hot, white cum on the sheet 

beneath him. “Yes, there you go sweet boy. You’re my sweet boy, keep coming

 baby.” Andy gave a couple of hard thrusts till he came inside Dayton, his head 

falling upward like Cain did when he worshipped God. Andy growled deep and

hoarse as he filled Dayton up, Dayton hums sweetly as Andy leans down and 

kisses down his back. 

    The twin cleans their partners up with warm towels, making sure they’re 

going to be comfortable come morning. The clock strikes 3 am and the two 

priests quietly slip out of the dorm room. Their eyes gave out glints of red, a

 devilish smirk painted across their lips as they walked side by side. “Who 

would’ve thought?” Steve chuckles. “You know what he said,  fruits taste better 

when they’re forbidden.” Who would’ve thought that demons only prey on 

beautiful women? They prey on beautiful men too.

Translation of the Latin piece: Lord Satan, by your grace, grant me, I pray thee the power to conceive in my mind and to execute that which I desire to do. 

[queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm]

Daminette December Day 2: Blind Date

——————————————————————————

Marinette Dupain-Chang had experienced many forms of love. From platonic, familial, and romantic she stole hearts wherever she lay her feet. That was until someone stole hers, they stole her heart and only gave it back when it was broken. Who would dare harm an angel such as Marinette? Why that would be Adrien Alastair Agreste of course.

The devil himself dwelled within that boy. He stole her first kiss, first love, and her confidence in romance. Adrien was kind to others and sweet on Ladybug, but once in a relationship he became someone Marinette didn’t recognize. Possessive, hot-headed, fast to aggression, etc. could all be used to describe him.

Adrien “Sunshine” Agreste could flirt with whoever, have whatever he wanted, voice his own feelings, but kwami-forbid Marinette even suggest anything of the sort. He would lash out in the worst ways, “Why are you so clingy?” He would ask harshly, “You’re always breathing down my neck! ‘Adrien I’m right here? Stop that! Can we go out?’ It’s like it’s never enough with you!”

“Adrien... all I asked was to refer to me as your girlfriend. I didn’t ask for your hand in marriage,” Marinette responded weakly.

“I don’t like labels. You know that. Plus how would it look if I was caught dating a baker’s daughter?”

She was taken aback by that remark, “So I can pour my heart out to you, give you all of me, and all that you need, but the second I ask something of you... you can’t comply no matter how small the task?!??” Marinette was seething, “You would not only degrade me, but my family just because we aren’t as rich as you? Adrien Alastair Agreste, you can do whatever you want! It’s clear to me that you don’t love me and now I’m not sure that I love you anymore either. I wish you the best without me because you and me: don’t exist remember?”

Adrien sighed, “Don’t be petty, Marinette. There’s no reason that we can’t continue whatever this is because you can’t control your emotions.”

Marinette hadn’t said a word when she calmly walked out of the Agreste Manor, she walked all the way home without a sound or tear falling from her Crystal blue eyes. Adrien didn’t even try to stop or follow her. He believed she would come back to him no matter what he did, and he was wrong. Once Marinette was gone, there was no turning back

*Line break*

A year had passed and Marinette had turn her website, “Miss Fortune,” into her own fashion house. Adrien had tried to contact her after he realized she wasn’t coming back, but she had blocked him on everything, changed her number, blocked his number, and moved to a whole other country.

Metropolis had been kind to the French-Asian woman, it had gifted her new loves: her friends. She was blessed with Jon Kent, Felix Culpa, Bridgette Yang, Garfield Logan (they met after he went to visit Jon). She also kept in contact with a reconciled Cloé, Kagami, and Luka. She had all the love she would ever need surrounding her or just one phone call away. She’s done with Cupid. She has no need for him after he delivered her to the devil on a silver platter. She vowed that she would never find that romanticized love. And Cupid, decided to take that as a personal challenge.

“Marinette please,” Jon clasped his hands together and pleaded with the French-Asian woman, “ i’m begging you here, one date that’s all I’m asking!”

“Jon, I’m not going to go on a date with someone I’ve never met. Who do you think I am?” Marinette said while working out.

“If not for you than for me, please! It’s my best friend and I promise he’s a good guy!” Jon was practically on his hands and knees at this point.

“You know how I feel about romance,” Marinette said just below a whisper.

“I know and I respect that, but he could really use someone as beautiful, talented, and sweet like someone like you,” Jon looked like a kicked puppy.

One look in his eyes and she was gone. Rookie mistake. Marinette sighed, “ I- you know what? Fine. I’ll go on this date just for you, but I swear if he is creepy or tries anything, Jon, I will not hesitate to destroy him.”

“You have my word my queen,” he said playfully.

“ Okay Superboy,” she laughed at his remark. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Job and Superboy are the same person.

How was he supposed to have a secret identity when his only protection is a pair of glasses when he’s a civilian? In retaliation she had disclosed to John that she was moonlighting as a superhero as well, Longmu. With Longg at her side now, Marinette became what is known as the queen of the dragons in China.

Luckily, Marinette did not have to make a new dress for the occasion. She had previously made a red cheongsam embroidered with flowers and ladybugs on top, there was a slit on her right leg that ended mid thigh, her hair was pinned back by two black hair clips, she wore black 4 inch stilettos, and had a black handbag with a rose painted on the front.  Marinette is too humble to admit that she looked like a goddess.

After finishing getting ready, Marinette had 30 minutes before she had to be at the restaurant that they were meeting at. She had outgrown the habit of being late since she had become the CEO and founder of “Miss Fortune.”  this restaurant in particular was her favorite. She’d come here whenever she had the time, and knew almost all of the staff by name.

Being a hero herself, Marinette, had made reservations to be poised out looking in the front door. Having said that she did not expect to see Robin in Metropolis, only to see him disappear and find another green eyed, black haired, gorgeous boy in his wake. said boy was none other than her date Damien Wayne.

The name seemed familiar, however, Marinette couldn’t put her finger on where she had heard it from. In any case she called him towards her table, “You must be Damien! Hi, my name is Marinette,” she extended her hand to greet him.

Damien was taken aback by Marinette beauty, though he’d never admit it. He quickly recovered and took her out reach to hand. He then took her hand up to his face to kiss it, “Damian, nice to meet you.”

After they were introduced, they had fell into pleasant Conversation and were beginning to be getting to know each other. They had ordered their food and ate dessert. Even after they paid, they stayed to chat. Not wanting the night to end so soon, Damien had offered the invitation to stroll around Metropolis city park.

As they continued their stroll, they came across a would be mugger. Before Damien could act, Marinette had already disarmed and pinned the man to the floor. She twisted his arm behind him as she asked if Damien was all right, “Hey, you okay? He didn’t hurt you did he?”

“How could he when you took them down before he had a chance? In any case, thank you,” Damian was impressed by Marinette’s combat skill, but had the question of how she knew what she knew.

Superboy had shown up to retrieve the criminal, ��Marinette Dupain-Cheng, you know I could’ve gotten here before he did anything! You shouldn’t put yourself in unnecessary danger!” He whined even though it was all for show. Superboy knew that Marinette could easily beat him in a fight without kryptonite. Magic is his weakness after all.

“ I know but I had some precious cargo to take care of,” she sent a wink towards Damian’s direction. Suddenly it was 100 degrees on Damian’s face.

He knew Jon would never let him live this down, but what’s this about this not being the first time she has taken down wantabe thugs. Superboy finished his mock scolding and left with the apprehended suspect to the police station. Also, she’s the Marinette Dupain-Chang, “Wait, you said you’re into fashion, right? You would let happen to be the owner of the Miss Fortune fashion house, would you?”

Marinette nodded gingerly, “Yes, that’s me.”

“My brother would die if he knew it was you I was going out with tonight. He’s a huge fan of your work.”

“I’d be happy to sign something for him. And maybe give you my number?” Marinette asked sweetly.

She didn’t know what had gotten into her, after a year of not wanting anything to do with romance why would this guy (that she’s only known for a couple of hours) make a difference. She didn’t know, but also she didn’t mind, “That is, if you want it.”

“Yes!” Damian cleared his voice, “He would appreciate that, and I would be greatful if I could have your number. And if I maybe so bold, would you be willing to accompany me on another date some time soon?”

Cupid looked at the girl how would try and defy him with a smirk. No one can resist their fate. Marinette nodded rapidly, “I would love to, Damian.”

The night came to a close with both superheroes on cloud nine. Something about the other would draw them together. Once each had their chance, they would thank Jon for setting up this blind date for them.

*Line Break*

Two years have passed since their first date, now Damian and Marinette were attending a Charity Gala for Bruce when they came across Adrian “Asshole” Agreste. He had seen Marinette by herself as Damian stepped away to mingle with his brothers for a momment and Adrien saw an opening, “Long time no see, Princess.”

Marinette didn’t even acknowledge his presence, just as he did all those years ago. He no longer exsites to Marinette. Adrien died years ago in Marinette’s mind. She’d brushed him off in search of her boyfriend.

Adrien didn’t take kindly to being ignored, “So that’s it then? You’re not even going to say ‘hello?’ That’s petty.”

Marinette continued walking, refusing to turn back to give him what he wants. Eventually she found her loving boyfriend, only to find him down on one knee in front of everyone. Marinette raised her hands to her face in disbelief, “Marinette Louise Dupain-Cheng, I’ve been in love with you from the momment I laid my eyes on you. Every day I thank Jon for forcing me to go on that blind date with you. You are radiant, brilliant, talented, and many more things. Would you do me the honors of marrying me and adding Wayne to your already long name.”

Marinette’s face was wet with tears, she couldn’t find what to say. All she could do is nod and kiss her fiancée. Adrien was seething, he had lost.

Cupid looked down again, smirking in triumph. Looks like he won against another goddess and the devil.

——————————————————————————

A/N: This is late because I had to rewrite it 3 times. Tumblr kept deleting it and I almost gave up, but I really wanted to make the readers of Daminette December smile a little. I hope you guys enjoyed. 🥺😊

@daminette-december2019

[vee-angel]

First Day of School (Part of the Sodom Virus Chronicles)

Synopsis and content warning: This series is set in a world where The Sodom Virus has infected everyone in the world. While it’s asymptomatic in males, females eventually get sick and die unless they’re regularly able to ingest sperm (for reasons not fully understood, the genetic virus seems to bond with male DNA, but only in it’s incomplete form). It can be swallowed, but is most efficiently absorbed through the membranes of the anus and (to a lesser extent) the vagina. If you want the full Introduction to the Sodom Virus universe, you can click the #sodomvirus tag at the bottom to find the post I wrote a while ago where I gave the details. 

This first story details a girl named Ricki who has spent her life up until now in a religious sanctuary where she was protected from the depravity of the outside world. Now she’s going to have to go to school in the real world to catch up on her education. 

Fair warning, stories set in this world will be sort of a grab-bag of extreme and taboo fetishes. Female inferiority is the central theme, but filth, violence, and abuse of all kinds will be scattered throughout the stories pretty casually. 

Also, this will be my first ever illustrated story! Which is a trend I hope to continue. 

* * * * *

First Subject: Female Humiliation and Degradation

“What do you mean, I’m “Property of the high-school??” 

Ricki’s life had been in a rapid free-fall for the last three days. She had spent her life in a religious sanctuary where she’d been insulated from the misogynistic objectification the rest of the country participated in. She grew up hearing stories about how females were treated in the outside world. Rape, torture, humiliation, degradation. They were treated like objects with no regard for their humanity and expected to smile and thank their abusers. 

As a child, Ricki had assumed that such tales were exaggerations meant to reinforce the safety of the sanctuary, but now that she’d seen a bit of the world, she wasn’t so sure. 

“There’s another cunt who lives here at the school who I’ve assigned as your mentor to help you catch up on your education. You’ll meet her in your first class.” 

The man across the desk from her seemed annoyed at her presence so Ricki decided against pushing further for fear of accidentally inciting some kind of punishment. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” She replied before gathering her things and using the school-map she was given to navigate to her first classroom. As she walked, she wondered about what questions she should ask the “cunt” who was assigned to help her assimilate to this strange new world. Ricki wasn’t exactly sure what the word “cunt” meant, but she’d heard it a lot since the government raided her home a few days before, it seemed like it was a word these people used to refer to women and girls, but that was about all she could glean. 

Ricki worried about her mother, the men from the government said that she had been declared a feminist and was being sent to a repository along with all the other adult women from the sanctuary. The men had been arrested and were charged with crimes as well, but she got the distinct sense that the penalty for the women was much harsher. They had told her that due to her age and circumstances, they were going to give her a chance to escape the same fate as her mother, but that she had better learn to abandon her feminist ideology “really fucking quick.” 

She never thought of herself as a feminist. She grew up believing that her purpose was to be a good daughter, wife, and mother. To smile, and be pretty, and kind, and always pleasing to others. Ricki wasn’t sure how that could make her a feminist.

Well, she didn’t think it was right to be cruel to women, but that was because she didn’t think it was right to be cruel in general. Could that be it? Just because she thought women should be treated like people? 

She wanted to be good, so she hoped that the other girl assigned to help her would be a good mentor. Maybe she would end up being like a big sister to her! She could only hope. 

Finally, she reached the room indicated as her first class on the map. The lettering on the door read “Female Humiliation and Degradation.” Was that the name of the class?? Nerves made her pause briefly before entering, but she figured that good girls should be eager to do as they’re told, so she went in. 

The first thing she noticed is that the room seemed very…. open. The far wall was almost entirely glass, overlooking a rather pleasant looking courtyard that Ricki guessed was used for leisure time between classes. There was an alternating pattern between tall, solid glass panels, and large windows that seemed able to slide up about four feet from ground level. Otherwise, the classroom seemed relatively ordinary, A few rows of neatly organized desks, and girls mulling about and chatting with one another as they wait for class to begin. The fashion sense of many of the girls was quite striking in its variety and daring. She noticed a girl she thought was wearing skin-colored leggings before realizing that she’d actually come to school completely bottomless! Ricki blushed as she wondered how common it was for girls to go around so…. on display, and turned her attention back to the lovely view through the glass wall. She briefly wondered why the windows opened from the floor, but her thoughts were interrupted by a smiling girl waving from the back of the classroom. 

“Hey, you’re the new girl, right?” she called from across the room. 

She turned to look at the source of the call. Whoa. The girl smiling and waving to her from the back of the room was breathtaking. So much that Ricki’s breath was literally taken. She just stared for a moment before remembering to breathe. She walked toward her and found her even more beautiful from up close. 

She was tall, with long waves of cascading black hair framing exotic middle-eastern features. Sapphire eyes emphasized by dark eyeliner upon lightly tanned skin the color of beach sand. She wore a form-fitting off-the-shoulder crop top that barely covered what appeared to be very large and very perky breasts. Her bottom half was covered with what appeared to be tight blue-jeans that had a strange sort of lacing across the front. 

“Hi!” Ricki greeted her new friend and extended her hand for a handshake. 

The raven-haired beauty stared down at her hand, seemingly confused for a moment before understanding dawned on her. “Oh!” she said as she grabbed Ricki’s wrist and pressed her hand against her left breast, “You don’t need to wait for permission, you stupid cunt, you can just grab my tits whenever you want! That goes for all girls, by the way. Unless a man tells you not to.” 

“Oh! Umm, thank you.” Ricki replied. She wasn’t really into girls sexually, but she didn’t want to make things harder for herself by being rude, so she made an effort to give the firm, perky orb a nice squeeze before removing her hand. “They’re very nice!” 

“They’re fake, I used to have pathetic, ugly little C-cups like you, so I had to get pumped full of silicone so I could have a cute, little pair of bolt-on bimbotits.” 

The way she spoke was jarring, both because of the insults she casually hurled at Ricki, and because of the dehumanizing way she spoke of herself. 

“I’m Ricki, by the way.” she introduced herself, resisting the urge to extend her hand again. 

“What a stupid name for a cunt.” she said giggling slightly, “I’m Sharaje” she said before leaning forward and pressing her pillowy scarlet lips against Ricki’s. 

She tried not to seem unnerved by the emotional whiplash of Sharaje insulting her name and then kissing her on the mouth. In a weird way, the mean things she was saying didn’t seem hostile. She’d been smiling the whole time, it was more like she just casually disrespects all women out of habit. 

This put Ricki in a predicament, would it be seen as “feminist” if she failed to disrespect Sharaje in return, or was she obligated to submit to her as a superior? When in doubt, she defaulted to being nice. “That’s a very pretty name.” 

“Thanks, it means butthole. That’s my best feature.” Sharaje turned around to reveal that the jeans she was wearing were actually a very fashionable garment Ricki would later learn were called “Spreaders.” The middle section of the back was cut out, with the remaining fabric held up with what seemed to be some kind of adhesive attaching them to her butt cheeks. The laces she’d noticed on the front now made sense, as they allowed Sharaje to tighten the front of the garment in order to spread her ass apart, ensuring that her anus was perpetually on display. And while Ricki hadn’t made it a habit of admiring other girl’s assholes, she had to admit, Sharaje’s was remarkably pretty. Flawlessly clean-looking, lightly-tanned skin led to a tiny muscular pucker. 

“It looks like a virgin’s huh? Can you believe I get buttfucked like ten times a day?” 

She couldn’t believe it. Ten times a day?? She’d heard that women in the outside world were treated like sex objects, but surely Sharaje was exaggerating. 

“So… umm, they said you were assigned to be my mentor or something? They didn’t really explain much.” 

Sharaje turned to face her again, “Yeah, they told me you were in some kind of fucked-up chastity cult and-” She stopped mid-sentence to deliver a sharp slap across Ricki’s face. “Hey! Stare at my tits when I’m talking to you!” 

Ricki was stunned, but obeyed, turning her eyes to stare intently at the perky nipples straining against the tight, plum colored fabric as she continued. 

“So anyway, they thought I’d be good at de-programming all the stuff your ugly, feminist cunt-mom and her cult friends taught you because I’m captain of the bullying squad here.”

“Bullying squad? What’s-” 

Ricki was interrupted by a twenty-something statuesque blonde woman who entered and stood at the front of the class. “Okay, sluts,” she announced with a serious expression, “Class is starting, so get your sexy teenage asses in your seats.” The girls scattered around the room casually made their way to desks. Sharaje indicated at a seat directly in front of her where Ricki was to sit.

The teacher’s face turned to a look of shameful resignation as she introduced herself, “I’m Miss Fartface, please feel welcome to fart in my face because I love the smell and taste of dirty teen girl assholes.” Her voice was mechanical, as though forced to read from a script. The students laughed at her. 

Ricki felt Sharaje’s breath on her ear as she whispered, “She’s actually straight, and a major germaphobe. Her owner makes her act like she’s obsessed with face-fucking our shitters to humiliate her.” 

The teacher went on, now speaking more naturally, “I understand we have a new student joining us today.” she said looking at Ricki; or more accurately, at her tits, “Would the new cunt please come to the front of the class and introduce herself?” 

Ricki’s heart was beating in her throat, but she made her way to the front of the room on shaky legs. All the other girls appeared to be staring at her body judgmentally; she’d never felt more on display. 

“M- my name is R-Ricki,” she began unsteadily. She could already see a lot of the other girls in class openly showing disgust at her name. “My stupid feminist mom cunt gave me that name… umm, I grew up in a… a fucked-up chastity cult… and that was bad? But now I’m going to try to learn how to not be a dumb feminist, and to be a good girl, like all of you?” 

She looked out at the rows of desks hoping to see a glimmer or approval, she was trying to hard to assimilate to their world, but it seemed so unfamiliar to her. 

A sudden voice from the back of the room broke the silence, “Hey, show us your pussy!” It was Sharaje. She wasn’t sure what she should do. Was it just an obscene jeer that she could ignore? Several seconds of silence passed. Ricki looked around to see expectant faces. She tried to go on as though nothing had happened. “I look forward to making a lot of new friend-” 

“Ricki, you’ve been given a command.” The teacher stated flatly. She couldn’t believe this was real. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t have been so bad. It was a room full of girls, after all. But Ricki was getting the distinct impression that the other girls were waiting to mock and criticize her most private areas. What was worse was that it appeared that one of the other classes had let out recently, and the courtyard just past the floor-to-ceiling windows was filling up with students of both genders who could easily see into the classroom. 

“Are you fucking retarded? If I have to ask again, I’m going to strip you naked myself and have every girl in class fist you. At the same time.” Sharaje had a certain authority to her words that made her believe the threat wasn’t hollow. 

Ricki lifted the hem of her dress high enough that she could pin it to her chest with her chin, then hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pulled them to the floor to reveal a rather unkempt patch of fur between her legs. 

She heard a few of the girls pointedly making noises of disgust at the sight of her ungroomed bush, but before anyone could articulate an insult, an Asian girl cosplaying some slutty anime character spoke up.

“Hey, what’s that weird diaper thing she was wearing under her dress?” For a brief moment, Ricki’s humiliation was replaced with confusion. Diaper thing? 

“They’re called panties,” the teacher began, “They’re not very common anymore, but before the Virus, almost all women wore them under their clothes. Nowadays, they’re mostly worn when men dress up girls in historically accurate costumes.” 

“Wait,” a different girl chimed in, “Wouldn’t cunts need to take them off every time they got fucked?” 

“Oh!” Yet another girl began, “Girls used to get, like, pussy-diseases back then, huh? I bet those pantie-thingies used to be, like, a code so that everyone would know that a girl was just for face-fucking, right?” 

“That’s a good guess, Ditzy, but no.” Miss Fartface explained. “Actually, before the Virus, the average girl went weeks or months without being fucked. By some reports, certain women actually went years.” A few of the students looked shocked or saddened. 

Ricki wanted to cover her naked crotch during this exchange, but dared not cover herself without permission. 

“But didn’t they get sick and die if they didn’t get fucked everyday???” Ditsy asked. 

“She’s talking about before the Virus, stupid!” A nerdy looking girl in a too-small school-girl outfit said condescendingly to Ditsy. “I read that girl’s used to live as long as men, but hardly any of them got to have sex more than a few times a week.” 

“Oh my god! Did men used to be, like, super mean in the old days?!?” Ditzy exclaimed. 

“That’s enough, cunts.” The teacher said, quieting the chatter. “Actually, men have always been kind enough to fuck us, and at many points in history, they tried to create societies to put women in our proper place where we could be happy as servants and fucktoys; However, these men endured abuse and harassment at the hands of feminists who believed that cunts deserved to be equal to men.” 

Sharaje raised her hand. 

“Yes, Sharaje?” 

“How did they think cunts could be equal? I mean, everything I do is to please men. The way I talk, the way I eat, the way I dress. I abuse other cunts because it gets me attention from men. So if feminists somehow didn’t care about pleasing men, than why do anything? Did they just want to lay in the dirt until they die? What’s the purpose of a cunt even existing if she doesn’t please anyone? It’s not like girls can get pleasure without men.” 

The blonde teacher just shrugged, “I’m sorry, but I really don’t know. It’s true that the health and happiness of cunts is conditional upon their ability to serve and please the superior sex; and that’s been explained to feminists many times throughout history, but somehow they were too stupid to even understand that simple fact. It’s why the Sodom Virus was such a godsend. Who knows how long it would have taken society to progress to where we are today without it. And while we’re on the topic of pleasing men, why don’t we all go around the room and mention one way that our new student here could improve her fuckhole?” 

With that, the classes attention was back on Ricki, or more accurately, their attention was on her exposed genitals. The teacher went down each row. 

“It’s way too hairy. Some men like that, but she needs to at least trim it properly.” 

“Her pussy-lips are too big, she needs to get those trimmed, too.” 

“Also, do you see how dark they are?! Look really close, her whole pussy is a darker color than the rest of her. It’s so fucking disgusting!” 

“It should be puffier. Puffy pussies like mine are super cute. Hers isn’t cute at all. 

“She needs to spread her legs more; She doesn’t even know how to show her fuckhole correctly!” 

“Well her thighs are so short and fat, even if she did spread, you can barely even see her pussy through all the flab.” 

“I don’t think we talked about her cuntlips enough. They’re wrinkly, too. It’s super gross, it looks like she stuffed roast beef in her twat and some of it’s coming out.” 

“It looks like it smells bad, too.”

“Oh my god, you’re, like, so totally right! I don’t want to get close enough, but it looks like it’d smell like dead fish!” 

“It wouldn’t even be sexy to make a girl eat her out. A man would only make me lick her pussy if he was punishing me!” 

The onslaught of humiliating insults wasn’t even half over, and Ricki was already openly bawling. The girls seemed indifferent to her tears as they continued hurling deeply personal jabs about her most intimate area while she was forced to display herself. She could barely see through the tears, but she could still tell that there was a small cluster of boys and girls looking through the window and giggling to one another as they observed the degrading ritual. 

Thankfully, it was nearly over. Sharaje was the last one to comment on her parts. 

“Honestly, I wouldn’t even call that thing between her legs a pussy. There’s no way it could ever please anyone. If I were her, I’d just get the whole thing cut off and sew up the hole. Better to be a two-hole whore than to make men look at something that fucking ugly.”  

Somehow, Sharaje’s comment hurt the worst. Being taught that her primary reason for existing in this world was to get fucked, and then being told that the hole created solely for that purpose was worthless devastated her. It made her feel like a failure as a woman. 

Ricki made her way back to the empty seat in front of Sharaje and wept quietly as the teacher spent the next few minutes explaining the intricacies of female humiliation and degradation. Focusing mainly on their necessity to inoculate against the threat of feminism. She used the verbal hazing Ricki had just endured as an example multiple times throughout the lecture. 

Eventually the teacher segued into explaining their assignment for the upcoming week. “You are each going to be given two cards, one of them is going to have a fetish that will degrade, dehumanize, and/or objectify you. The other card will have your enjoyment level of the fetish; categorized as reluctant, eager, or desperate. Each of you is to sincerely live and embody your assigned fetish with your assigned enjoyment level for the next week. And for those of you who choose “reluctant,” you still need to make every available attempt to fulfill your new fetish, even though it humiliates or disgusts you!” she finished with a smile. Miss Fartface seemed to have plenty of experience being forced to live out a fetish she hated, so perhaps the smile was due to a certain sense of sadism at getting to have her students do the same. 

“Sharaje, you went last when we were shaming Ricki for her ugly cunt-hole, why don’t you go first this time and show the other girls how to properly announce their new fetishes to the class.” 

“Sure! But since you’re not going to be using your tongue to lecture, you really should be using it to clean all of our assholes, don’t you think? I mean, that is your favorite thing in the world, isn’t it??

The teacher’s smile faded and she stared daggers at the middle-eastern beauty. “Yes, of course.” She said in a reluctant monotone, “I’d love to shove my tongue in each and every one of your dirty teen assholes.” 

“And?” Sharaje pushed with a sadistic grin. 

The older woman sighed, “And thank you again for making me follow you to the bathroom last week so that you could use my tongue as toilet paper, Sharaje. I can never thank you enough for allowing me to use my ugly old tongue to lick the shit from your perfect, young asshole. I beg you to please let me do it again as soon as possible, and as often as possible.” Miss Fartface was almost sneering in disgust at the memory, but at the same time, there was no way she could refuse to humiliate herself while teaching a class on female humiliation. Sharaje delighted at the torment as she skipped to the front of the class where the blonde woman grimaced as she forced her tongue inside the pristine teen anus. 

Sharaje flipped over the cards assigned to her and her face lit up. “Yes! I got the best one!” She looked out at the other girls in class with a toothy smile and even waved to some of the students out past the window to come closer to hear.

“So I know I’ve never mentioned this before, but it’s actually probably my biggest kink. I’ve always had this fantasy of getting fucked by dogs while a lot of people watch. And I mean, like, a LOT of people. The way I picture it, everybody has their camera phones out and they’re getting good shots of dog-cock in my pussy and ass. Maybe videos of me sucking a dog’s dick straight out of my butthole. Definitely get my face in the picture, and post it online with my name and ID number. I want everyone to know forever that I’m a dog-fucker. It should be the first picture that comes up anytime someone searches for me online. I seriously want it to follow me around for the rest of my life. I’m super glad I got an “eager” card for this, because there’s no way I could be reluctant, it’s just… Oh my god, it’s just the hottest fucking thing to think about, I almost came as soon as I turned the card over.” 

She finished by roughly yanking the teacher’s face from between her butt-cheeks and returning to her seat. The next girl took her place at the front of the class and explained her fetish while being rimmed by the teacher. Ricki wasn’t exactly sure if all the girls were acting like they loved the fetishes they were supposed to love and hated the ones they were supposed to hate, or if the teacher was just nice enough to make things easy on them. Either way, she learned a variety of things about the strange, horrible, and disgusting acts that some people seem to fetishize. 

Finally it was her turn. She timidly made her way up to the front of the class. She gasped slightly when the teacher lifted the hem of her dress, pulled down her panties to began tongue-fucking her ass. Even though she’d seen it happen to about two dozen girls before her, she still wasn’t totally prepared for it. 

She turned over her cards one at a time. “Reluctant” was written on the first. Good, she thought, at least she wouldn’t need to pretend to like whatever horrible thing she had to say she was into. She turned the other card over and her heart sank. Tears once again began to well up in her eyes. 

Without looking up, she began, “Hi… so my fetish, which I love, is having my pussy destroyed, and made even uglier than it already is. I want… I…” She broke down and heaved heavy tears for several seconds before she could continue. The teacher being forced to tongue-rape her up the ass didn’t relent. “I want my vagina so totally destroyed that it can never bring me pleasure. So that I can be denied orgasms for the rest of my life, and so that my pussy gets so ugly that no one would ever think of fucking it ever again.” 

She tried to control her weeping while she rushed back to her desk. The teacher said that this concluded first period and that they could socialize while waiting for their next class. Sharaje wasted no time and was already being sodomized by a boy who’d been waiting outside. Another girl was on her knees letting a man piss in her mouth through the strangely low windows. Ricki seemed to have figured out the purpose for their unusual placement now.

Everything going on around her was so obscene, it was like the men in this world regarded them as little more than masturbation toys. Was she really never going to get to go back to her old life? Was she really going to have to ask people to destroy her vagina so that she could never have another orgasm? Everything was already so horrible and it was only just the end of first period!

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Best of the Best | Part 1

Genre: Smut and Angst

Word Count: 4k

Summary: You promised yourself you’d never fall for another clingy, needy boy who demanded you gave him all your love, only to leave you after he has sucked you dry. Yet here you were, making that same mistake again. Alternatively: It wasn’t easy being perfect. Sometimes, Taeyong needed someone else to take control. Sometimes, he needed to be broken down completely in order to be put back together again, better and stronger. 

A/N: I tried to get as close as I can to ty’s actual personality in this one. This is largely inspired by his verse in Whiplash and some tidbits about his life that I learned from @nctforuandme she’s honestly single-handedly responsible for reigniting my obsession with ty so thank you a lot babe

Warnings: femdom, sub!taeyong, dom!reader, student/professor relationship, age-gap, dry humping, thigh riding, degradation, sexist remarks, breath play, semi-public sex, cheating, Miss kink (?), pwb professors with benefits, usage of the painfully cliche trope of “but you can’t fall in love with me”

“What is this?” You hear someone bark out. At first, you don’t think the wrathful inquiry is directed at you. After all, who would dare speak to you this way? But when you hear the same voice shout out again, much closer this time, you look up to find that the person, that poor fucker, was in fact talking to you. “Are you deaf? I asked you a question.” The students, who were just starting to file out of the room at the end of your lecture, freeze in their tracks and look over, varying degrees of shock and trepidation displayed on their faces. One of them, a tall bespectacled boy who you know you guess is a friend of the boy with the suicidal wish, Lee Taeyong, bravely steps forward to try and pull him back, muttering quietly to him, “Let’s go, man. It’s not worth it.” But the silver haired boy shakes him off, never taking his hateful gaze off of you. “No, this is bullshit. This paper is worth twenty-five percent of our final score and she gave me a D. A fucking D! This is gonna mess up my whole grade.” Gasps echo around the room as more students come into the room instead of getting out in order to watch the scene unfold. The boy’s friend pales and urgently whispers to him, “Dude, the man-eater is gonna have your balls for this. Apologize and let’s—“ You’ve heard enough.

“Everyone, get the hell out of my lecture room.” Your voice booms out, making students jump in fear and slip out hurriedly. When you see some still hesitate to leave, their curiosity getting the best of them, you threaten, “I’m going to count to five, and if I see anyone else in here after I’m done besides Mr. Lee, they can expect a zero on their next exam.” At that, everyone quickly rushes out. Even Lee’s friend backs away, his hands raised in the air as if to say he has nothing to do with his friends stupidity, and then he leaves too. When the room is empty sans you and Lee, you speak again. “What seems to be the problem, Mr. Lee?” “I want you to change my grade to an A.” He demands as if it was his right to get the grade he wanted, looking every bit the spoiled brat whose daddy always gave him everything he’s ever asked for. It wasn’t a look becoming of a young man studying at a prestigious university such as this, and the look you give him in response speaks volumes of how little you appreciated that.   “You don’t deserve an A. Your work wasn’t up to par.” You say dismissively. Your response seems to make him light up with pure fury. “Bullshit! I worked my ass off on this paper. I’ve been getting straight A’s eve since I set foot in this damn college. I’m not going to have my perfect score ruined by you.” “Well, you should’ve thought of that earlier. Maybe then you would’ve given me something better than the dismal excuse for a paper that you handed in. You’re lucky I even let you pass. Don’t make me rethink my decision.” You threaten him, hoping to dissuade him from his silly tantrum. Despite your reputation for being a merciless “man-eater”, you really didn’t derive any joy from making the lives of your students miserable, whether they were male or female. You cared about your students. You took pride in your work. That’s the whole reason you were so strict in the first place. You wanted to have a positive impact on their lives. You worked your ass off so that years from now, one of these students might look back on their college years and think ‘Man, I really learned something of value from Miss ___.’ That used to be the case anyway. Now, having endured years of indifferent students and spiteful colleagues, you’ve all but lost your passion for what used to be your dream job. But even so, you still cared about your students and you were still willing to let Lee’s little tantrum go if he backs down and apologizes, despite him having so brazenly disrespected you in front of the entire class.  But it seems he’s not too smart, that one. “I gave you my best work. I always give my best work! That’s why every other professor before you has given me straight A’s.” “Hmm, is that why? Funny. And here I thought all the others were just kissing your ass because your father is a major investor in this university and they’re just trying to save their own cowardly asses. Sorry, sweetheart, I’m just so dumb sometimes.” You smack your forehead with your palm, pretending to extrude the stupidity out. “Don’t you dare—“ He seethes, looking absolutely murderous, and you swear you can actually hear his teeth grinding together. “I got this far through my hard work and my hard work alone. I will not let you take that away from me.” “Let’s see that hard work in your next assignment then.” You try to end it there, feeling weary already, but still wanting to give him a second chance that he didn’t deserve to tuck his tail between his legs and run. Turning your back to him, you grab your folder off the desk, looking to gather your things and leave, but he promptly rips it from your hands and throws it to the side, your carefully collected and sorted papers flying out and scattering all over the floor. You don’t have any time to react as he backs you into the desk and looms over you with equal parts anger and desperation. “Look, just tell me what you want and you’ll have it. You want a Rolex? How about a nice Louis Vuitton bag, huh? Say what you want and it’s yours. Just… please, I need that A.” His sudden change in demeanor from lethal to excessively desperate was concerning and a little bit unsettling. Why did he need that A so bad? It’s not like it’s going to affect his overall score that much. He won’t get a perfect GPA but it wouldn’t be too far off. “Mr. Lee, look at me.” You sigh in exasperation and gesture towards your generic, economic outfit of a simple white blouse and a black skirt. “Don’t you think a watch or a bag that cost more than my entire wardrobe would look silly on me?” “I could buy you a whole new wardrobe then, to fit your new accessories. Is that what you want?” He hurries to say, a knowing glint in his eyes as if he’s onto you. “Are you even listening? What I want is for you to leave me alone.” You take a step to the side, trying to get out from under him but he slams his hands down on either side of you, trapping you against the desk. “So the rumors about you are true, huh? You really are a bitter bitch who takes pleasure in making the lives of her male students miserable in order to make up for her own sad and loveless life.” He snarls, looking down his nose at you. “You know, maybe if you weren’t such a frigid bitch, a man would actually want to touch your shriveled up pussy. Give me that A and I’ll give you that dicking I know you’re dying for, baby.” “Oh, but Mr. Lee…” You gasp, looking up at him demurely, lulling him into a false sense of security as you lightly trail a hand up his chest towards his neck. “I don’t fuck little whores.”   You circle your fingers around his neck and press down, cutting off the gasp that tried to fight its way out of his throat. As you lightly choke him, you monitor his reaction closely, ready to pull back at any sign of distress. But just like you had predicted, he stays rooted to the spot, looking at you like an animal caught in a trap, his eyes jumping around in alarm as he tries to catch his breath and make sense of what is happening. Smirking, you press down harder on his throat, slimming his breathing down to a wheeze. “What makes you think that you would even be allowed to put your dirty, little cock anywhere near my pussy? You’re just a stuck-up, spoiled little brat who needs to be reminded how to properly talk to his superiors. Do you know what you should be calling me, boy, or are you too dumb to even remember?” “Yes,” He grits out, getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen to his brain. He was glaring bloody murder at you but he never once attempts to pull back. You knew he wouldn’t. You had always been an excellent judge of character, a skill that’s came in handy quite often in your profession, and you knew just what this boy so desperately needed. “Yes, what, little slut?” “Yes, Miss.” He wheezes out and bucks his hips against you, making you snap at him and press down harder on his windpipe, blocking his airflow entirely. “Did I say you could do that? How are you going to ‘give me that dicking I’m dying for’ when just having my hand on your throat is making you hump me like a horny virgin?”     All at once, you take the pressure off his neck and he folds over, molding his body to yours as he sucks in deep, gasping breaths. Grabbing his jaw, you press your face close to his. “Look at you, so wrecked already. Are you that easy? I didn’t even need to touch your little dick. I bet you would cum if I so much as lay a finger on you, wouldn’t you?”   When he doesn’t reply, you clench your hand down on his jaw, your fingers digging into his cheeks, and ask again, “Wouldn’t you?” “Yes, Miss.”  “Would you like that?” “Yes, please, Miss.” “No.” You deadpan, “You don’t deserve it.” He slumps, looking positively crestfallen, but doesn’t protest. You’re quiet for a moment, your face a mask of cold disinterest as you stare him down, watching as he slowly unravels under the weight of your unimpressed gaze. He was trying so hard to hold onto his pride even as his eyes start to tear up and his hips move ever so slightly against you, timidly pleading you to give him something, anything. "You really want that A, huh?” Your face breaks out into a triumphant grin, “OK, I’ll give it to you.” Caught up in your game, he had forgotten what this was about in the first place, and so he starts, thrown off by the sudden reminder. “That’s what you wanted, right?” You taunt, smirking as you watch him gape and fumble. “Yes, b-but—“ “B-b-b-but,” You mock, laughing, and the boy’s face flushes crimson. He bites his lip and averts his eyes in embarrassment. You smile at him knowingly, stating state what you knew he wished to say, “But now you’re all wound up now and you want to cum too, don’t you, greedy little slut?” “I'll tell you what? I'll give you that A you’re whoring yourself out for, and I’ll not force you walk out of here with blue balls and a stiff cock. How does that sound?” The boy gives you what might possibly be the most innocent look you’ve ever seen on his face, or anyone’s face for that matter. He was wide eyed and slack jawed, fear and hope flitting over his face in alternating ripples as he tries to make out what your angle here was. You half-expect to see little restless ears sprout up from the top of his head for how much he resembled a frightened little kitty right now. He looked so unlike his normally cold and severe self. Right in front of your eyes, he seems to transform into someone else entirely; his white skin turning warm and tan, his demeanor tender and inviting, his sharp features broadening and a full, boxy smile replacing the thin-lipped pout on his face… But as soon as you blink, he’s Lee Taeyong again, and not the boy who broke your heart so many years ago. Pushing him away, he stumbles on unsteady feet as you walk around the desk and sit on the leather chair. You pat your thigh, flushing the intrusive thoughts away and ordering him tightly, “Come here.” He doesn’t protest, just walks up to you in a daze and sits down on your lap, straddling your thigh between his legs and looking at you expectantly. “What I’m offering you here is a chance to get everything you want. If you can get yourself off just by riding my thigh, I’ll give you that A you so desperately want." Taeyong looked positively terrified, his face paling as he tries to figure out if this was a trick or not. Taking pity on him, you cradle his face in your hands and gently ask, “Can you do that for me, Mr. Lee? Can you show me what a good, hard working boy you are?” He nods fervently, eager to believe you, his hands going to his pants to unbutton them, but you brush them away. "No. Keep them on. I want to see you make a mess for me." Sucking in a breath, he whispers harshly, “Yes, Miss.” When he starts moving on top of you, it’s a little uncomfortable. He is somehow both heavy and bony, but you don’t dwell on it for long, not when he almost immediately picks up his pace, grinding against you earnestly as if he just suddenly realized how badly he needed to get off.  You watch his frantic movements in amusement, remarking, “You know, if we had enough time, I would never have let you off this easily. I would’ve edged you on for so long that you’d cum on command.” He shivers at your words, his hips grinding down harder against your thighs as delicious little moans fall freely from his mouth. You support his head in your palm as it lolls to the side, “Then I’d make you cum again and again. I would make you cum so many times that by the end of the night you'll be crying and begging me to hurt you even more." “Yeah, yeah,” He moans encouragingly, clutching onto you and swiveling his hips around in circles, his cock driving into the flesh of your thigh hard. "Be quiet kitten or someone will hear your mewls." You laugh, slipping a hand under his shirt to softly caress his stomach. He was shuddering like a leaf above you, barely able to control his movements, and he doesn't calm down. He only gets louder. "Damn, you’re a loud little slut." You push the fingers of the hand that had been cradling his face into his mouth, muffling his moans, and he immediately goes to work licking and sucking on your fingers like a lollipop.  "I knew I was right about you. From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I knew that you were just begging for someone to strip you off of your abrasive and entitled attitude and whip you back into shape. But no one ever did, right? They all saw you acting cold and clawing at anyone who tries to come near, and they assumed you’re a lion trying eat them up. But you’re not a lion. You’re just a frightened little kitty looking for someone worthy enough to tame him.” You confidently, watching as the boy melts under your words, allowing you to gaze upon his true self.  You know it’s hard for him, exposing himself like this, so you try to be gentle with him. “Poor kitty, you must’ve been waiting for so long. I can’t imagine that your pretty little girlfriend ever took charge of you like you crave. I bet she just lets you do whatever you please with her. I bet she never once punished you for being so insolent or fucked you until you cried out for forgiveness. Isn’t that right, little kitty?” Taeyong’s legs clench around your thigh and he pulls his head back, your fingers slip out of his mouth and tracking strings of saliva behind them as he cries out, “I’m so close, Miss. Please, let me cum.” Since all of this must be so overwhelming for him and yet he was still well-behaved enough to ask before cumming without you needing to tell him to, you decide to take it easy on him. “Cum, little kitten, show me what a good boy you can be.” He gives a few last erratic thrusts before his body seizes up and he cries out, finally cumming. You quickly clamp a hand over his mouth to muffle his screams, feeling warmth coat the fabric of your skirt as he shudders above you. When he hunches over you, completely spent, you wraps your arms around him and rub his back soothingly, listening to him gasp for air and feeling his heart beat wildly through his frail rib-cage. "Hush little kitten. It’s OK. You’re OK. I’ve got you.” "Thank you, Miss." His reply is muffled as he buries his face in your shoulder. As his body slowly relaxes and his breathing settles down, you slowly become aware of what exactly you just did... You got yourself sexually involved with a student, a clearly troubled boy who craves affection and support and who probably now thinks you can give him that.  Why do you always go after the broken ones?  Technically, it wasn’t against school policy to hook up with a student but you could still get a lot of grief over this, and that’s just the administrative and interpersonal-relationships  aspects of it… You sigh, pushing the boy up so you can lock eyes with him. "You did well, Mr. Lee. You’ll be getting that A you were promised. You just need to keep what happened between us to yourself. After we leave this room, you have to promise to never talk about this again, not to me, not to anyone. Is that understood?" You hope he would gladly take your offer and leave. After all, he just got the grade he wanted and an orgasm to boot. But when he hesitates to answer you, you know you’re in trouble. “Mr. Lee, do we have a deal?” For another agonizing second, he remains quiet, throwing you into a vicious loop of worrying about all the improbable reasons behind his silence and how you’re going to deal with them and all the possible ways this could end badly for you.  Finally though, he breaks eye contact and answers you with a timid, “Okay.” As you watch him leave the lecture room, his gait funny because of the sticky mess in his pants, you pray to god that the feeling of dread washing over you is completely unjustified and that this wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass later. •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• As always though, your gut feeling was correct. After your little encounter with Mr. Lee, it was like he became obsessed with you. He would openly stare at you during lectures then find any flimsy excuse to talk to you after, leaving his friends to scratch their heads and wonder why the boy who was just about to end you a week ago was now always following you around like a little duckling. It was all getting very suspicious and you found yourself forced to intervene quickly before anyone figured it out. Rounding him up in your office--a concerningly easy feat seeing as the boy was more than happy to be locked up in a room alone with you-- you turn on him, “Mr. Lee, what on earth are you doing?” “I—I am asking you about the assignment.” He gulps, trying not to give himself away and failing miserably. “I don’t understand the part where—“ “Cut the crap, Lee. You understand it perfectly. You’re not very smooth, you know? Now tell me, what is this about?” You demand. You weren’t slick either. You knew what he wanted but you were desperately hoping you were wrong, the sickening sense of déjà vu coursing through your brain so strong, it was nauseating. You couldn’t handle another needy, clingy boy who demands all your love then leaves you when he has run you dry. The boy scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, and stumbles through his words, "Can I... can we...do... it again? What happened last week, I mean. Not exactly the same though! I can make you feel good too I swear I—“ “Didn’t we agree to never talk about that again? You’re talking about it.” “I know but I just can’t stop thinking about it! That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had and you didn’t even touch me. Holy shit, I can’t wait to see what you can do if you actually touch me.” “Then I’m afraid you’ll be waiting for a long time. What I did was wrong and unprofessional and as your professor, I sincerely apologize to you for that. It can’t happen again." “Why?” He whines childishly.  "Because I’m your professor.” You say it like it’s matter-of-fact, because it is. “If the other professors find out I’m sexually involved with a student, they’ll ostracize me. It’s already hard enough with all the malicious rumors running around about me just because I’m a woman who dares to be assertive and not let men walk all over her. If they find out about this, it will just be more proof in their minds that I hate men and I’m taking it out on a poor student.” “They won’t find out. I’ll make sure of it. I'll keep pretending I hate you and no one will ever know. And even if they did, I can shut them up. You said it yourself; my father is the biggest investor in this college and they all want to stay on my good graces. Please, I need this.” “That’s not how it works, Mr. Lee. They’ll only shut up in front of you but they’ll still talk behind your back. Why don’t you just hire a dominatrix or something if you need this so bad?” "I don’t want a fucking dominatrix. I want you." There was that fire in his eyes again, the all-consuming passion to get what he wants at whatever cost that you’re so used to seeing from him. This Taeyong was completely different from your previous lover. He was rage and determination and cold, blue fire; nothing like the warm and soothing orange of the other, softer boy. You knew this Taeyong. You could handle this Taeyong. “I don’t want a strange woman whipping me around and telling me to lick her boots. I want you. You get me! You saw me in a way no one ever did before. I just... I’m so close to losing it. I have to put on this persona every minute of every day but it’s slipping off and I can’t keep it in place anymore. I need to let go for once and let someone else take charge or I’m going to snap. Please, help me.” The problem is that you believed him wholeheartedly; you sympathized with him wholeheartedly. Because beneath his hard exterior, there was a soft, mushy thing inside that frail rib-cage of his that mirrored your own. You couldn’t turn him away when you saw yourself in him. So you agree, under one condition. “You can’t fall in love with me. If you do then it’s over.” Taeyong laughs incredulously, taken aback by the weird condition, and his mood immediately lifts up, clearly not taking what you’re saying seriously. “Look, Miss, I’m just trying to get fucked. Nobody’s falling in love here, at least not me.” That arrogant smirk was back on his face again. He looked so damn confident. So why was your gut feeling telling you that this is all a huge mistake? “Good.” You say, squashing the feeling down and taking in the beautiful, broken boy. •❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅• A/N: AHHHHHH I’m so excited for this series y’all. This was long overdue. Anticipate a lot of angst with this one. It’s gonna be dark but not in a criminal way, more like a slowly soul-crushing way like THERAPY. ahahahha as always I live off feedback and I’m anticipating your wonderful messages 

[neohours]

Ex-Bestfriend - Part 2

➵ Pairing: Dom!Renjun x Reader.

➵ Genre: Smut, Fluff.

➵ Warnings: Unprotected rough sex, fingering, blowjob, almost face fucking, breeding kink, degradation, sir/babygirl kink.

➵ Words: 4138

Part 1

That's what Renjun always wanted to hear from you, "I love you too." He loved you since a long time, since the end of primary to be precise. Since the day you cried because a boy in your class had made fun of you because you had a bad grade. You were sensitive when you were young, so a simple remark like his could made you cry. And as a best friend, he consoled you, giving you a smile. It was from that moment, the one where you had wiped your tears and offered him your most beautiful smile that he knew he had fallen in love with you. He even wondered sometimes how you did it to never doubt of his feelings towards you. Almost everyone had noticed the way he looked at you, except you.

Your relationship became slightly ambiguous. You were both always best friends, but a little bit much more than that. Although he had told you his feelings and you had discovered yours, it was complicated. After a long conversation, you came to the conclusion that you would take things slowly. So no one else, except you both, knows that you were together. "Do you stay with me after school?" You were eating your sandwich, watching your best friend, or ex-best friend, shaking his head negatively. "No, sorry, I had planned to go back to my house to watch shows."

"Nice.." He chuckled at your disappointed look. "Don't worry, you're not going to die without me."

“Yes, I will!” He smiled at you before ruffling your hair and getting up. “Well, I’m going back to class first. I’ll see you later.” You acquired and he leaned over to kiss your cheek, before disappearing. You continued to eat your dinner in silence, being on your phone and paying no attention to anything else. “You’ve become closer to Renjun, recently.” You frowned and looked up, directly facing Jaemin who was looking at you, confused. “Yes, kind of..”

"You're in a relationship?" You raised an eyebrow. "Why this question? We aren't together anymore, as far as I know." You saw him bite the inside of his cheek, before leaning forward. He put his elbow on the table and supported his head with his palm. "It was just a question, you know." You looked at him for a moment, waiting for him to leave as he had come, but nothing. He didn't seem to want to leave. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, I'm not allowed to come see my ex-girlfriend?"

"Exactly, I'm not your ex for nothing." His smile vanished at your words, as he watched you get up and get ready to leave. "Wait.. Can I talk to you, please?" You rolled your eyes, looking at him annoyed. "You already did."

"Seriously.." You tossed your sandwich bag in the trash and stored your cell phone in the back pocket of your jeans. "What?"

"Well, I'd like to talk to you about something which is kind of important to me.." You rolled your eyes. "Join me in the chemistry class, after school, I'll have projects to finish, so if you really want to talk to me, come." You didn't give him time to answer you that you left. You weren't as interested in him as before. You realized that your feelings towards your best friend had only increased over time. The same simple little intentions that he used to give you could make your heart throb.

You went back to your class. Although you had no more sentimental connection with Jaemin, you couldn't help but wonder what he wanted to talk about. He hadn't spoken to you since you slept together during the party. You remembered that when you woke up the next morning, some discomfort was present between you two. Well, it didn't bother you more than that to being in bed with him, again, even though you were no longer together, but you felt like it was the exact opposite for him. He didn't dare to look into your eyes, as if he regretted this gesture and to be honest, although you were no longer in love with him, it hurted you a little.

"Miss Y/N, please listen to the class and stop dreaming." You jumped when a hand fell against your desk. You raised your head quickly to your teacher and slowly nodded, blushing in embarrassment. When you wanted to look back to the blackboard, wanting to correctly follow the subject, you caught Renjun's gaze, looking at you perplexed. You avoided his attention and focused on the class again. As soon as the bell announcing the end of classes rang, you got up exhausted and began to pack your things.

"So miss, we don't listen in class?" You laughed at the stupid imitation of your teacher that Renjun did. "What were you thinking about?" You shrugged and put your bag on your back, leading to the exit at the same time. "Nothing very important.." You accompanied him to his locker and watched him take what he needed. You wanted him to stay with you, but you didn't try to convince him one more time. You blinked a few times as he closed his locker, before turning to you and placing a quick kiss on your lips.

"See you tomorrow." You smiled at him and kissed him back as quickly as he did, then watched him go to the exit. Once out of your sight, always a silly grin adorning your lips, you went to your locker. Putting your bag in it, you grabbed some books and headed to the class. No sooner had you stepped into the classroom than you found yourself in front of Jaemin, looking at you with folded arms. "I thought there was nothing between you?" You raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I saw you guys kissing, best friends don't kiss each other's mouths as far as I know." You sighed and stepped forward to put your things on one of the many tables. "I repeat, it's none of your business." A silence settled between you. The only audible noise in the room was the one you were doing by flipping through your notebook. "Does the fact that we slept together mean something to you?"

"We were drunk, so we weren't the aware of our actions." You didn't looked at him, your eyes always stick to your notes. "So it means nothing to you that you slept with me, again.." You pinched your irritated lip and turned finally your attention to him, rolling your eyes. "Oh.. don't tell me that in the end it means something to you, you haven't spoken to me since and you completely ignored me, and now you dare to talk to me about it?" He said nothing for a moment, looking simply at you, before lowering his head.

"You know.. Even after six months, I think I still have feelings for you." You were taught by his words. Earlier, you could have exclaimed with joy to hear him say this, but not anymore. Certainly, you were quite surprised by this sudden statement, but your heart didn't beat as fast as before. You felt no flutter in your belly. You didn't have the same feelings than when you're with Renjun. "Ah.." You only managed to say those words. He looked at you confused for a moment, before slowly approaching you. "I can't stop thinking about you.. And this night with you made the whole thing worse."

"I remind you that it's you who has to break with me." He caught you between him and the table, putting his hands on your hips. "I never dared to tell you it, but I really regret it.." You froze on the spot when he leaned down and kissed your cheek. "Please come back with me.. I love y-" His words got cut by a throat clearing. As Jaemin turned slightly backwards, you widened your eyes when you saw Renjun. You could clearly determine in the way he stared at you, that he was angry.

"Am I bothering you?" You blushed violently. "A little yes." You could tell Jaemin was smiling. He loved to provoke him even when you were together. That was one of the reasons why Renjun had never liked him. He was going to add something, but you cut him off. "Jaemin stops.." He made you face again and gave you his most beautiful smile. "And why? It's starting to get fun."

"No, just stop, please.." He found the game fun, but when you told him to stop, he stops. "Y/N, could I talk to you?" The tone of his voice could seem calm at first, but you knew it was way too quiet to really be. "Okay.." You released shyly from the grip of Jaemin. You were ready to walk toward your old bestfriend, but got stopped by your ex. He was looking at you with a slight veil of affection in his eyes. You felt almost bad. "You're coming back, aren't you?"

You acquired, faking a smile to reassure him, before returned to Renjun. Facing this scene, he rolled his eyes, annoyed. Barely you stepped outside of the room that he left, forcing you to follow him.

He said nothing, which disturbed you. You knew he was annoyed, even a little angry, but the fact that he was quiet was bothering you. "Stop being dramatic and talk to me!" You saw him clench his fists and stop abruptly, making you go into him. You moaned in pain, rubbing your nose and looking up when he turned around. His eyes were black, making you shudder. "Stop being dramatic? Are you fucking kidding me?!"

You began to step backwards, when he began to walk towards you. He had the same anger as when you faced him a few weeks ago. You were caught off guard when your back hit the wall of the corridor. He then took the opportunity to tackle a hand on each side of your head, bringing his face closer to yours, but still keeping a certain closeness. "You were planning to do what if I had not intervened? To agree to come back with him? To kiss him like you had done before and act as if nothing had happened between us?" You shook your head. He gravely grabbed your forearm, squeezing it enough to make you feel pain. "Renjun you hurt me.."

"That's why you didn't listen in class, it's because you thought of him?" You bit your lip hard, not daring to deny his words, not wanting to lie to him. You still wanted to protest, tell him that you didn't feel anything for Jaemin, that your feelings were felt for him, but you were cut off in your thoughts when he kissed you suddenly. The kiss was a mess, but you could feel the passion through it. Your hands came wrapping around his neck, pressing your palms against the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. Passing the barrier of his lips, your tongue came touch its twin.

Breathless, he withdraws, not without pulling your lower lip with his teeth. Panting, you look into his eyes, knowing both that you want more, like the last time. You were lost for a moment in his eyes, admiring his face, all his features, all his imperfections that made him beautiful to your eyes. You were sure, you were in love with him and you even wondered how, in all these years, you never put your relationship with him in question. Picking up on your toes, you wanted to kiss him again, but he dodged the kiss. Frowning, you were going to retort, but he stopped you by grabbing your forearm and pulling you with him, so you were forced to follow him, again. You had a grin on the corner when he stepped into an individual toilet, pushing you inside it and shutting the door behind you. You stood close to the wall while he sat on the toilet, without detaching once his eager gaze from yours. "Strip for me." You widened your eyes. Seeing his serious look, you bit nervously your lower lip. "B-but.."

"I said, strip." You lowered your head, slightly blushing and began to take off your shirt with hesitation. Certainly, he had already seen you naked, but his dominant side will always surprise you. He had the possibility to make you totally submissive. "Faster, you know that Sir doesn't like to wait." You executed his words and removed definitively your top and started to detach your bra. "Wiggle your hips." You began to move, sensually, your hips, removing your underwear. Quickly, you took taste of it. You could clearly feel the sexual tension of the room increase and your excitement as much as this one. To see him thus, biting his lower lip, his eyes following each of your movements, made you satisfied. You approached him and sat on his lap, waving your hips, rubbing your crotch against his. His hands came over your thighs, gripping them harshly, to encourage your movements. "Damn, you've so much effect on me."

His warm breaths, crashed into the hollow of your ear, giving you goosebumps. The beating of your heart quickened and you moaned softly as he began to bite and suck the sensitive spot on your neck. As you continue to rub against each other's sexual spot, your hand came into his hair, ruffling it slightly. His came to your breast, kneading and pinching hard your nipples. None of you speak, deeply appreciating this moment, while only your heavy breaths were heard in the small room.

You felt his member hard pressing against your dripping pussy, still covered. Withdrawing from his grip, you didn't waste time kneeling in front of him, slowly unstapling the belt of his pants. You looked up at your lover and crossed his amused grin as he let you take care of him. His hand went into your hair, caressing them gently. "Good girl, always there to please her Sir. Well, you started to understand that you belong to me, it's a good beginning." His grip on your hair tightened when you released his cock, already perfectly hard. You leaned and licked its full length, before immediately taking it in your mouth. You focused on taking it ever deeper into your mouth, enjoying the slight moans escaping from his mouth.

"Look at me." You looked up and faced his cellphone. You were confused enough, but you still didn't stop. You open your eyes wide when you hear the sound of a camera. Seeing him smile at his phone, you were sure that he had taken a picture of you. "You're so cute when you have my dick between your lips, I hope Jaemin will find you as beautiful as I find you." You wanted to withdraw and protest, but his hand on your head gave such pressure that you couldn't raise your head. Continuing so, he made you deep throat him, which tore him A very deep groan. "Keep sucking me like the little whore you are. Don't worry, if he dares to keep this picture and ah-Fuck.. I'm gonna beat him." He took control of the rhythm. You closed your eyes tightly, as he almost fucked your mouth. Your hand went down from its length to his balls, starting to massage them, doubling the volume of his moans. You could feel your saliva running down his length, which obviously didn't bother him. You could, after a while, feel his cock twist inside your mouth, while he grunted several times that he was coming. You let him cum into your mouth, swallowing what you could.

You stayed a few seconds in the same position, although he released the grip he had on the back of your head and gently pulled you back. Always having some seed in your mouth and flowing in the corner of your lips, he grabbed your jaw and wiped with his thumb the remaining semen that dripped your mouth, then luring you to lick. "Swallow everything, baby girl, I love when I see you filled with my seed." He took again suddenly, possession of your lips. He pushed you against the ground and helped you to take off your pant. Touching your clothed slit, he has a grin when he noticed that how wet you were. "It will always make me laugh how you get soaked just because you sucked my dick." He moved your panties to the side and easily inserted a finger between your tight ripe ones. The sound of wet sounded clearly throughout the small room. You put a hand on your mouth, wanting to stifle your moans, when he introduced a second finger, but he suddenly grabbed your arm. Planting his eyes, suddenly black, in yours. He held his strong grip on your arm and fingered you harshly. "Don't even think once to hold back your moans or I'll have to punish you."

You no longer thought, expressing freely the pleasure he gave you. He was looking at you all the way, while you were taking pleasure under his fingers. He loved to see you so absorbed by what he made you feel, without fucking you directly with his cock. As you felt your orgasm approaching, a voice coming from outside tore you from your thoughts. You immediately recognized Jaemin's voice, calling your name. You looked at Renjun for a moment, panicked, but he didn't seem to care more than that and didn't seem to want to stop. As the voice drew closer, you pinched your lips, holding back your moans, the most you could. Suddenly, your ex-best-friend's fingers retreated from inside of you, making your wave of pleasure vanish. You whine with frustration, at the emptiness you're feeling now. He only looked at you, coldly, from above. "Stand up." You got back on your feet, avoiding as much as possible his eyes. He pushed you against the counter, so that you face the mirror. His hand came down against the skin of your ass.

"I told you not to hold back your moans." He followed his words by a new spanking, stronger than the others. The noise echoed between the walls, making you moan loudly in pain. "If you want to restrain them so much, suck." Reopening your eyes, your pupils rested on the two fingers he presented to you. The two who were pushing in you, a few minutes earlier. You opened your mouth as he introduced them inside. You almost choked on them when a new pain spread on your thigh. "You like that sucking them, right? My beautiful slut." You sighed with ease as an answer. You knew Jaemin had probably heard you and added that Renjun had sent him a picture of you sucking him, you knew it would take a long time before you could look at him straight in the eyes. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth and raised your chin with his index, wanting you to look into his eyes through the mirror. "Lean backward." You did it, showing him your ass. You see him staring at it, licking his lips. "So tempting, so sexy, babygirl." You bite your lip, pushing your ass further backward, so that it rubs against his member still hard. "Just for you, Sir."

He moved closer to your ear and licked your lobe sensually. "I hope." You were completely naked, compared to him who had only his pants lowered. The coldness of the counter made you shudder, your nipples becoming hard in contact with it. He rubbed his tip against your clit, then your wet slit, lubricating his member before introducing himself into you of all its length. You moaned loudly as he began to thrust roughly, stretching you from inside. "Fuck.. S-sir!" He gave you a cocky smirk. You clung to the sink, your knuckles clenched against the surface of it as he redoubled the intensity of his blows. Only the sounds of skins slamming against each other and your groans filled the room. "Scream my name, baby, let me hear the name of the one who makes you see stars." He grabbed your forearms, pulling you backwards, still fucking you violently from behind.

"R-Renjun" You screamed his name several times, making him ever more satisfied every time his name slipped down your tongue. He pressed you against his chest, while one of his hands lowered to your pussy and began to rub your clit. Your head rested on his shoulder, while a wave of pleasure spread in your body, due to the stimulation of your clit and his penetrations. You gave him free access to your neck, giving him a great desire to mark it. You felt the same sensation, from earlier, rise inside of your lower abdomen. "Sir.. I-I'm cumming.." He kissed your neck, whispering dirty words in your ear. The contraction of your walls around his cock made him go completely insane, making him cum some time after you, in a deep grunt. You felt him fill your inside, making you feel full. Your legs almost let you down, but he been able to catch you just before you fell. He laughed softly at the sight of your fucked up face. "It's not funny!"

But you couldn't help but giggle slightly in your turn, despite everything. He helped you sit on the toilet, letting his seed flow from you to the toilet bowl. "If to make you completely mine, you have to get pregnant, I'm ready to tear you the pills." You bent over to take your sweater, that you had removed, to put it back. You shook your head then, before taking his hand to pull it to make him lean towards you. "Stop saying bullshit, Renjun. I'm already yours and will always be yours. So stop doubt of it." You smiled at him tenderly, kissing him on the mouth. "If you really want everything to go well, let's formalize our relationship." He nodded vigorously, smiling. That's what he wanted for a long time ago and knowing that you wanted it as much as he wanted it makes him more than happy. He helped you to clean up properly, before you stepped out of the bathroom, hand in hand. You sighed with relief when you saw no one around, which meant that only Jaemin knew that you had fucked in the school washroom.

You went back to the classroom, to get your things back, when you faced your ex, looking at his phone, eyes wide. You felt yourself blush as he looked up at you and bit his lower lip. "Go get your things, baby." You made what he told you and headed you to pick up your notebooks. You didn't even do the revisions you originally planned to do, but it didn't matter anymore. You saw Jaemin hesitating to approach, but as soon as he did, Renjun's voice stopped him. "Don't even think about getting near her, again. She's all mine, as you've seen, I fucked her and I'll be the only one to fuck her for a long time yet." His last ones accentuated the redness of your face. You squeezed the edges of your stuffs between your fingers as you came back to his side. Your gaze was fixed on the ground as you didn't dared to raise it. "I fuck her better than you've ever done. Make yourself clear, Jaemin. You're nothing to her, anymore. You're only her ex now."

Renjun grabs your hand, entwining your fingers with his. Your heart fluttered with the comforting warmth of his palm against yours. You made your way to the exit, but he turned one last time to throw a more than black look at the one who used to be your boyfriend, almost half a year ago. "And if I heard that you shared the picture I sent you, I wouldn't hesitate to beat your fucking face." He took you out of the room as soon as he finished his speech, leaving no time for the other boy to put a single word. God, you loved him. His possessiveness and jealousy, but also his cute side. You knew now that he was the one you loved. It was Renjun, your best friend, who you wanted to be with and no one else.

[ficstogo]

What You Want

Pairing: Edward Nygma x Reader

Word Count: 3,032

Summary: As a fellow night stalker, what you wanted was out of the picture. Your purpose in this line of work is to serve and give what the customer wants and it seems that this quirky man is no exception.

Warning: Almost smut but not really….?

A/N: Just so you guys know, I really appreciate CheshyFreshy at Wattpad for being a beta reader and helping me edit this story so it can be as great as it is now and not come out as sloppy as I would usually leave a story.

He couldn’t help it - the strange urge that was bothering him, that was keeping him up tonight. The natural instinct that every man feels from time to time, some more than others, and him not at all. At least, not until now. He just couldn’t help it.

Edward lay there on his bed, under blankets that were warmer than usual. He needed the release. This was unusual. He never really had this problem before and he didn’t know what set it off. He’d been completely fine all day, at least, until he got home, then he went to bed and dreamt about her. The woman who stole his heart, his attention, and maybe his mind. It wasn’t uncommon of him to dream of Kristen. Some dreams were sad, others were pleasant, and sometimes they were just memories. But it was different tonight. Tonight they weren’t dreams but fantasies that he would not dare speak to anyone about. Fantasies that put him to shame for having such thoughts.

Edward was yearning for her, for a dead woman’s touch. Her light touch, her skin against his, the small pecks that littered his face and blessed his lips.

Then he stopped. He opened his eyes wide as he realized his hands had traveled slowly from his chest to his abdomen right above his area in which was aching for some sort of pleasure. “You should really get that fixed.” Edwards head whipped to the side, looking at a dark figure beside his bed. “I mean, ya know.” A high whistle left his lips as his hand motioned up and down as if he was holding onto something.

Baffled at this, Edward sat up straight and turned himself to face his counterpart. “No! No I’m not going to degrade myself into doing some lowly indecent way of "fixing” my problem.“ Even if he were by himself, he would never think of doing something of the sort. No one would know, but he would. He didn’t want to shame himself later on about the things he did at night, especially his other half.

"Right. And killing people is a hell of a lot better thing to do than jacking off. You know, I’m more apart from you than a part of you.” He said, leaning against the dresser as a sigh left his lips but then his eyes lit up and a smile grew on his face looking forward. He then turned to look at Edward with a smirk. “Oh I see…You want the real thing, not just you lying there feeling like some sort of lonely, pathetic, idiotic, loser.”

Edward only looked down as he felt heat spread out from his face to his ears and even to his neck. He wasn’t wrong.

“Of course I’m not wrong. I’m you. Well, I’ve got a great idea, even though all my ideas are great.” he said smugly, rubbing his hands together.

.~.~.~.~.~.~.

It was dark and it was freezing yet here you were wearing a short black skirt with fishnet stockings and black heels. As for your top, you wore a simple white tank top that exposed more than you would have liked but thankfully you had a fur tan coat to keep you somewhat warm.

Every night, on that corner, where you would get picked up by strangers and humiliate yourself even further, doing things you never thought you’d end up doing, in the heat of the late night hours where you faked your pleasures in exchange for the green that let you survive life, you question as to what decisions led you to lead this dark and dreadful hallucination of a life.

You kept walking around like you had for the past hour, staying away from the other girls who had already marked their territory. That’s when a mint green vehicle started cruising slowly down the street and disappeared into another. You didn’t think anything of it until it passed by again. Your eyebrows dug into your skin. Usually, the customers would pull up to any random street walker. It didn’t matter who they got as long as they got some tail. You stood there thinking as to how picky this particular joe is until it pulled up right in front of you.

Well, that’s my cue, you grumbled to yourself. You walk towards the car to its passenger side and lean down to meet your man for the evening. He looked like a nervous wreck, his face red as he stared straight ahead, knuckles turning white from holding onto the steering wheel too tight.

“Looking for a good time sweetheart?” you said with a smirk, making sure to show off your bust to him. He side glanced at you and nervously pushed up his glasses.

He cleared his throat and a small scared voice squeaked out of him, “Um, do you mind?”

“Not at all. As long as you got the dough to go, I’ll do anything for you sweetheart.” You opened the door to another night of loveless sex and entered his small car.

“Um, y-your seatbelt.”

“What?” you said looking at him.

“You’re not wearing your seatbelt. I prefer that you do, you know, just in case.”

“Oh, uh, alright.” you said with a bit of confusion and pulled on your seatbelt.

Throughout the ride it was completely silent except for the rumbling of the engine. This man, which you still didn’t know the name of, kept his eyes straight forward, either because he couldn’t look at his future mistake or, and you hope, that he was all about safety. “Soo… What’s your name?”

“Edward. And yours?”

“_” that was it. It went back to the silence until you pulled up to a building. At least we’re not doing it in his car, you thought, a little less sleazy. He got out without you noticing, Too busy in your own thoughts, that he went to the other side and opened your door.

Your heels clicked through the silent halls of the building until you reached a metal door. Edward leaned over to unlock it and enter his small domain. You took a seat on his bed, legs crossed trying to make yourself look a little more seducing. “Nice place.” you said in a sweet voice.

“T-thank you. Tea?” he said stiffly, strangely, have stood in his home not knowing what to do with himself, his lanky body fidgety until he rushed to the sink to fill up a kettle with water. You realized how different he is from most of the men you spent nights with before. He was clean-cut, he wasn’t sleazy looking nor did he act like it. Not a single rude or promiscuous remark left his pretty pink lips, and surprisingly he was good looking as well compared to all the middle aged, married men you’ve met up with before.

You got up and walked towards him, his back to you. Your hands laid on his waist which caused him to take in a breath and become still. “No, it’s fine, I don’t need tea…just you.” You whispered in his ear sliding your hand low until you reached the button of his pants.

Edward jumped at this. You snapped your hands back to yourself as he turned around and faced you with an awkward out of place smile on his face. Frustration grew on your face as you placed your hands on your hips. “Look, are we gonna do this or what? I don’t have all night for you to make up your mind if you want it or not. I got other people to satisfy.”

“No! I’m sorry, it’s just that… I’ve never done this before -”

“And you didn’t think a handie could satisfy your need?”

Told you. “Shut up!” Edward harshly whispered to himself.

“’Scuse me?” you asked with arms crossed.

“Nothing! I didn’t say anything! So that tea…” Edward said, quickly redirecting the topic. You sighed, knowing this wasn’t going to be a simple night.

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” you said placing a hand to your temple as you walked to his sofa to sit on. Although you seemed irritated by him, (which is a bit harsh since he did say it’s his first time doing this) you were not. The whole week wasn’t going through ease. You were tired, being up so late, meeting strange men, everything down to your very soul.

At that moment you just wanted to rest for just a bit. He was making tea which would take a bit of time so it wouldn’t hurt to rest your eyes. A few minutes in, and you were startled at the fact that you were falling asleep. Your eyes went wide, compelling yourself not to fall asleep, but you found yourself cozied up under a blanket.

Instantly you rose from your spot looking around the apartment to find the lanky man sitting on his bed reading his book. “Oh, uh, you’re awake…”

“How long have I’ve been out?” you questioned all panicky.

“Um, about an hour I believe.” you groaned at this. You could’ve earned more money by staying out at the streets then being here with this guy. Unless…

“Did you do anything while-” When Edward realized where you were going with that sentence he immediately cut you off.

“No no no no! Never! When I saw you, I just thought you needed some sleep, so I got you one of my sheets…”

“Oh, well thanks…”

“If you like, I can just drive you home and pay you for your time-”

That’s when you stopped him from going on. He was a nice guy, if it were anyone else giving you this opportunity of freedom you would’ve taken it but he was honest and decent. Might as well give him his moneys worth. “No that’s okay. You paid for a good night and that’s what I’m gonna give you.”

You stood up and walked towards him. You took the book out of his hands and placed it on the tiny table next to his bed. Your hand went to the back of his head and curled your fingers in his hair. For some reason, there was a small smile on your lips while he looked up at you in wonderment. You placed a small kiss on his lips testing to see if he would enjoy it. Edward continued to stare at you but his eyes fluttered close as his hands placed themselves on your hips. You climbed on top of him, his legs between your knees.

Edward enjoyed the kiss until he opened his eyes at the sound of an all too familiar voice. “She’s enjoying this. Maybe if I, you know, took over, we’d probably be the best she’s ever had. Might even come back to us instead of the other way around….”

Edward pulled away from you whispering a no causing you to open your eyes and look at him with confusion. “What? If you want me to leave I can.”

“What?” He whipped his head to look at you with wide eyes. “Uh, no, I mean, I don’t want you to leave, it would be nice if you’d stay, I mean, if you like.” he said in a sputtering mess. You couldn’t help once more at smiling at him. A complete nervous wreck. All the men you’ve been with try to put up a macho man act but this one was acting exactly how he’s feeling. It was different but you enjoy it, that he wasn’t trying to impress you or make his ego bigger than what it is.

“Alright.” you responded, a hand now to his cheek as you gave him another kiss. Edward melted back into the kiss. For what felt like forever, you two kissed each other as if you were high schoolers at makeout point. You pulled away asking “how do you want it?” remembering this is a job.

“How? I don’t think-”

“The sex. How do you want it?”

Edward was at a loss of words. How did he want it? A question he had no answer to. Why not tease her? Tie her up. Torture her a bit? No. That’s not how things will go. You will not be apart of this night. At. All. “ How would you want it?”

This surprised you. Someone asked what you wanted. Nobody really cared what your wants and needs were. Nobody wanted to listen. This wasn’t about the sex either. The fact that someone even asked someone who was as low in the chain as you, maybe lower than dirt, and they actually wanted your opinion on something. That was a change and it felt nice. You placed kisses from his cheek to his ear And whispered “I would want it nice….” you did the same thing to the other side of his face and finished your sentence at his other ear “and slow.”

Chills went through Edward at how sensual your whispers were. His eyes fluttered closed as your divine lips took a journey from the corners of his lips to his neck where you felt the fast pulse go in time and then right back to his face where your lips hovered over his, giving light sensations and little breaths to tease him further.

_________

“You’re a very gentle lover.”

“Is that good?”

“Honey, that’s what every woman wants. That tenderness. Where you take your time and not rush into things, No filthy words, where you’re putting emotion into it instead of just it all being one sided. Where you feel like it’s actual love being made instead of just sex. Where you don’t feel like an object…” you sighed. It was tiresome. That’s all you ever wanted. At first you had no idea that you blurred the lines between love and lust. Any attention to you from a man you had mistaken it of them wanting to be with you when really they wanted to be in you. At first you thought that every man was like this, and maybe that is the case, but down the line after each short relationship, it was you. You always found yourself falling for the wrong kind of men. Each one used you or abused you in some sort of way. In the end, it was you who ruined your own life and no one else. You can try to place blame on a plate to whoever you want but the truth is always clear that it’s you who placed yourself on the worst of situations.

“I-I’m really sorry…..” Edward had no clue what to say to you. He figured that you would feel unsatisfied with your occupation but he didn’t realize how much of a heart you had that was broken. When you told him how you felt, he heard the damaged person you are and how much of your life you wish didn’t want to live. Now here he is, lying next to a woman that he made feel worse and he felt guilty. He deserved it. That was the entire plan. Just to find someone to help with his urge.

“I need to get going. I’ve been here a lot longer than I needed to be.” You snapped him out of his thoughts as he watched you sit up in his bed, back to him, putting your top back on preparing to leave for another stranger. “Just pay me for the hour you wanted, you don’t have to pay extra.”

“N-No, I-I, let me pay for the hours you stayed. I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t.”

You turned to look at him with a straight face and then went back to getting dressed. “If you insist…” Standing up you turned to him with your hand out. A bit startled, Edward sat up making sure that the bottom half of his body is covered up and reached for his pants that laid on the ground. The transaction conducted made him feel even more guilty than before. He looked at you, a tired, drained look upon your face. It’s reasonable for that look.

Once the money was in your hands, you turned ready to head out of the door, more than likely to never see him again. Suddenly something inside Edward made him blurt out the words he didn’t he would actually say again. “C-can I see you again?”

A frown on your face, you turned and looked at him. “I don’t make appointments, you’ll just have to meet me at that corner if you want more.”

“No! I mean, not in that way. In the daytime, like, for lunch.” You stood surprised at this request. Someone wanted to see you to probably get to know you.

“As in, like a date?”

“Well, I suppose, and can make you dinner instead, if you don’t want lunch.” He said. His face was red beyond belief. You walked up to him, cost in your arms, a bit apprehensive at your response, but you knew that nothing could go wrong.

“I can go for lunch…and maybe dinner next time round.” he looked up at you first with shock, but then a bright smile came by. “If you want, maybe you can stay for the night….I mean, it’s Gotham, a bit dangerous at this time of night…”

“Although I wouldn’t mind that at all, I can’t. I gotta get back to my post or else I’m deep fried.” you giggled.

“Let me drive you back then.”

.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Edward pulled up at the opposite side of where the other night stalkers were. There you two sat in a small bit of silence until you spoke up. “Um, so that lunch date, where at?”

“There’s this little restaurant right down the road from here. This italian place. We can meet there if you like.”

A smile appeared on your face. It was like high school girl being asked out for her very first date. You were actually happy. Another change that you can get use to. “Yeah…I can do that.” you looked at Edward, him having a smile as well. Undoing your seat belt, you got out of Edward’s car and leaned into the window saying “Thank you.”