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hwanchaesong · 3 years ago

Note

can you please do the seonghwa version of the ateez as your sugar daddy next please? i love love loved the first 2 ones 😫

a/n: thank you so much for the support 🥺 and yass, i would love to write for seonghwa as well, here ya go and enjoy~ 🌼

"Dom-estique"

SugarDaddy!Seonghwa X Reader

Synopsis: When the nanny is the one that got taken care of in an unexpected way.

genre and warnings: smut, kinks all the way, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), pet names, public & pool sex, slight degredation, praising, sprinkle of angst, fluffy ending, some cursing, mentions of pregnancy and cheating, this is 18+ so minors DO NOT INTERACT. this is based on ATEEZ as your sugar daddy

word count: 8.0k

/ ATEEZ Sugar Daddy Oneshots Masterlist /

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Your eyes closely followed the figure of a young girl who’s running around in the carpets of the gigantic living room, busy making drinks that she oh, so graciously offered you.

Park Shinhwa, an adorable 5-year old child that is unbelievably intelligent at such a young age. She’s great at writing and reading, not to mention, she loves math even if that subject makes you want to vomit. Her personality is out of this world as well. Polite, respectful, and outgoing, she really was raised in a loving family. Although, the sad thing is, her mother isn’t here anymore. She abandoned her after giving birth, leaving with an another man, thus, Shinhwa’s father took the responsibility of raising a baby all alone.

That’s where you come in, a broke college student that attends the morning classes and turns into a nanny in the afternoon ‘til night. You needed the money for your extra expenses, that’s when your friend Jongho recommended you this job. All those efforts of applying in websites, going as far as sticking posters on the street poles paid off when one night, a man with a deep voice called you.

“Hello, this is the babysitter’s number right? Good, I want to hire you.”

Apparently, Shinhwa’s father works all night, only going home at midnight or sometimes at dawn. So he needs someone to watch over his daughter, preferrably someone who looks harmless and is responsible enough, and it seems that you fit those criteria perfectly. You don’t know much about the man other than he’s handsome, hot, sexy, a total d-

Okay, do not steer away from the original topic at hand.

The job as a babysitter pays well, considering that you have to keep an eye on a sweet child that behaves so well, not giving you any headaches or problems, which you are eternally grateful for.

You watched as she marched towards your direction, a proud smile on her face as she poured you a ‘cup of tea.’

“Here, I made this with all my love and care for you!” she giggled cutely, a coo coming out of your lips as you drank the imaginary tea in the pink plastic cup.

“Delicious! How did you even do this? Can you please teach me your recipe?” you asked her, a curious expression forming on your face as she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word in, a booming voice called out just outside the door.

“Shinhwa! I’m home!”

That eerily, familiar voice that you have grown used to for the past few weeks. Now, the advantages of being a nanny were laid out just a while ago, but what about the disadvantages?

There’s only one, and that is the father himself, Park motherfucking Seonghwa.

You won’t complain about the money, but rather about the person, as he is the reason of your suffering and pain. The way his doe eyes look at his daughter with so much love, then it turn into slits when he directs his gaze at you. Maybe it’s the way he removes his shirt or whatever clothing he has on right in front of you, baring his well sculpted body that you couldn’t help but gawk at. Or, that goddamned tongue of his that he keeps on darting out like a chameleon.

You’ll never know the exact reason why he does those things, but as a functioning human being, you did your best to stay on the rational side, thinking that those are the habits that he gained over the years of living in this great, big world.

As the man in question entered the house, you immediately closed your eyes when he removed his blazer, muscles bulging through his tight polo shirt. only opening them when you heard Shinhwa’s squealing. Craning your neck, you saw that he’s already carrying the child in his arms, smooching her cheeks as Shinhwa chortled excitedly.

You looked at the time, 9:11 PM, that’s a new record for him.

“You’re home early, Mr. Park.” you commented, standing up from the sofa, bowing at him as a greeting. You failed to see the way he smirked, probably because the loose shirt that you’re wearing showed enough skin for him to see when you bent down to bow at him, but let’s move on.

“Yes, I have finalized the paperworks back there, so here I am.” he replied, smiling at you like he wasn’t checking you out a few seconds ago.

“Then-”

“Have you eaten yet?”

His question startled you, nevertheless, you still answered him.

“No, I still haven’t.”

His smile widened at your response, “Great! Have dinner with us.” he said, dropping his daughter down gently on the floor to get his phone, calling a chinese restaurant to order food. Your brain went into panic mode, because please no, you don’t want to spend more time with him or else your uncreative mind would turn into an innovative one with the amount of imagining that you’ll do.

You frantically waved your hands around, “No, Mr. Park, it’s fine, I can just buy Mcdonalds or something along the way home.” you tried reasoning out, but you failed when Shinhwa looked up at you with puppy eyes, “You don’t want to eat with us?”

How can you turn them down when the child that you have grown attached with is pulling you into her magic using that cute pout of hers?

Gulping down the anxiety, you accepted the offer. At least the tiny cheer that Shinhwa let out is more than enough payment for your sacrifice.

After his phone call, Seonghwa watched the whole scene with a soft look in his eyes. He’s not ready to admit it yet, but he is deeply enamored by you. The way you handle his child, or the way you smile and laugh, everything about you makes him want to believe in love again.

Ever since his ex-girlfriend left him and Shinhwa all alone to fend for themselves, he promised that he will never lose his head over a girl ever again, then you entered his life. Really, all he wanted was a nanny that will take care of his daughter while he’s gone for work, but the more he sees and interacts with you, the more his brain thinks that you are more than that.

He shook his head, calming his self down. You are a college student for goodness sake, and he is grown working man. He really should control his hormones or something, this growing attraction towards you is nothing but a simple infatuation that will go away sooner or later. But if it did not, then he’ll have to do something about it.

He steps forward, approaching his child and picking her up before he turned to you, telling you to sit down and be comfortable. You followed his instructions, but you were shocked when he sat down next to you, Shinhwa still in his arms, as he turned the television on.

You were fidgeting in your seat, the buzzing of the television played in the background as you pray to all gods out there for the food to arrive as soon as possible. And when the door bell rings, signifying that the food is here, you thanked the heavens silently.

The dinner went well, small talks here and there and the occasional laughter due to Shinhwa’s funny retorts to what her father is saying.

“I’ll clean this up,” you offered, “please let me do this, think of it as a way of thanking you for free dinner.” you smiled at Seonghwa, and he doesn’t really much have of a choice when your eyes looked at him pleadingly.

“Alright,” he sighed, “I’ll go upstairs and take a shower.” he then reckoned for his daughter, “Darling, please stay here and accompany Ms. Y/N, okay?” he requested, the child nodding eagerly before coming over to you, holding your pinky finger in her small hand, babbling something about the dishwasher.

“Call me if you need anything.” he said, leaving you and Shinhwa alone to tend the dining area.

Cleaning up is much faster with the guidance of the young girl, she knows where to put the items or how to operate the various machines in the kitchen. You bent down to her level, patting her head and praising her for being well informed about things like this, making her puff her chest out of joy, delighted that she got a compliment from you. When you were about to leave, you remembered that you still haven’t gotten your pay for tonight’s babysitting.

“Mr. Park!” you hollered, trudging towards the stairs when you heard a faint ‘Come on up here.’

Setting foot in the second floor of the house, you can’t help but inspect the area. It’s much more homey and cozy here, unlike the formal and elegant feel of the first floor. Recalling what you were really here for, you bellowed for the man’s name once again, his reply made your heart rate go nuts.

“Bathroom, just stand by the door so we don’t have to yell.” he instructed, and you were sure that you are sweating a lot, nerves kicking in. Slowly walking in the direction of what seems to be the the bathroom, since you can clearly hear the shower running, you inhaled before speaking.

“I am done with the chores, Mr. Park. I have to leave now, and..” you rethink what you were about to say, wouldn’t it be rude for you to ask that? Whatever, you need the money so you have to set down your pride, “I still haven’t gotten my pay for tonight.”

Silence ensued for a few seconds, and now you’re thinking that you fucked up, you’ll lose the job, you have to find an another one, you-

“Go to the left, you’ll see a big door, that’s my room. Go inside and take the envelope of money, it’s placed on top of the dresser.”

You sighed in relief, placing a hand over your chest, relief flooding your mind that you wouldn’t get fired, you thanked the man before going over to his room, upon opening it, you smelled the fresh scent of baby lotion mixed with his perfume. If this is what heaven smells like, you would wish to live here forever.

Your eyes roamed over the place, searching for the said dresser without invading much of his privacy. When you saw the furniture, you immediately went to it, grabbing the envelope on top but a small velvet box caught your attention. You shouldn’t be touching it, but your nosy ass just had to check it out.

“I don’t think that’s what you need to get here.” a voice from behind you made you gasp, simultaneously dropping the box that you were holding. Turning around in your heels, ready to apologize and run for your life, but you didn’t get to do that as two hands slammed down on either side of you, trapping you in your place.

You were greeted with a pair of dark, intense eyes, “Didn’t take you for an inquisitive person, Y/N.”

Shit. He dropped the formalities.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park, I didn’t m-” you were cut off when he leaned closer to you, enough for you to get a whiff of his manly fragrance. “Unbelievable,” your noses are now touching, droplets of water falling on you, only then you realized that he’s not wearing anything but a towel on his waist, “you really make me want to-” this time, he was the one who didn’t get to continue what he was saying as you yeeted yourself out by force.

You made a beeline to the front door, picking your bag up on a hurry and running away from the house. Your cash forgotten, but that didn’t matter, as of now, you’re sure that you are now jobless. You have always wanted to call Seonghwa out whenever he does things that are borderline seducing you, but now that plan has been scratched, at the back of your mind, you already know that you won’t step inside that house anymore.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa didn’t like that one bit, just one step away from having you and he let you escape his grasp. He let out a loud exhale, retrieving the box on the floor and putting it back to where it was before.

Looks like he has to do more than that, a scheme forming in his mind as he thought of ways on how he would be able to claim you as his.

The next day, you entered your classroom and sat down beside your friend, Jongho, your face planted on your table right away, making him look at you with concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked and you answered with a disgruntled groan, “I fucked up.”

He smiled a bit, “You always do.” you shot up from your seat, slapping his buff arm, “This is not a joking matter!” you cried out, stomping your feet while pulling your hair, almost crying out of frustration.

“Calm down, Y/N, what’s up?” now Jongho’s genuinely worried about you, it seems like something has been bothering you, the dark bags under your eyes are a dead giveaway that you didn’t get enough sleep.

“How can I calm down?!” you shrieked, hands flying up in the air as a way to express how frantic you are, “I think I’ll go penniless for a while, not to mention, I humiliated my self infront of my employer, please, I just want to crawl in a hole and die.” you ranted, your friend patting your back empathetically, somehow soothing your distressed state.

You went on with your day in low spirits, silently appreciating the fact it’s Friday today, meaning that you won’t have to deal with the Parks, not in the mood to face the looming problem that will inevitably dawn upon you. But maybe, that wishful thinking was the one that got you in trouble in the first place.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, fishing for it, you saw a message from the one person that you wouldn’t want to interact with. You closed your eyes, opening the text and your heart leaped, whether it’s because of happiness or nervousness, you’ll never know.

“Ms. Y/N, may I request for you to come here and watch over Shinhwa for tonight? I know it’s your day off, but I was called at work and I have to go there asap. Thank you.”

Damn it.

Just when you thought you’re safe, this happens, but still, you can’t just leave the child alone, so you opted to go there.

You rang the doorbell of the household, surprised etched on your face when a sweaty Seonghwa opened the door, “Come in, I’m sorry I was working out.”

“So where is..” your words trailed off, eyes widening when you saw him remove his shirt, his back muscles flexing and you’re sure that your mouth is hanging wide open when he turned around to face you, his abs on full display for your gaping eyes.

He saw the way you oggled at him, and he couldn’t help the growing smirk on his face, pride swelling within him knowing that he has that certain effect on you.

Your daydreaming was cut short when his voice brought you back to reality, “You were saying something?”

Snapping out of your stupor, “Uh, yes, Mr. Park, I was gonna ask you where Shinhwa is?” you said, putting on a strained smile on your face to hide your growing discomfort, the situation you’re in is kinda fishy.

“Ah, she’s not here. I brought her to her uncles, she’ll spend the night there.” he replied nonchalantly, and you nodded your head in understanding, then a thought crossed your mind.

‘If Shinhwa’s not here then, what should you do here? Did he purposely lied to you?’

As if he’s reading your mind, he answered your question, “Yes, I lied.”

The man walked towards your spot, steps dangerously predatory as he circled around, halting when he’s standing right behind you. His hands situated themselves on your shoulders, running down on your arms until it landed on your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“You must be wondering why,” his voice barely above a whisper, making goosebumps raise on your skin, “it’s because I want to have you all by myself tonight.”

After that statement, he lifted you up in his arms, carrying you and dropping you down on the sofa, pinning your arms on either side while he hovered above you. The position is daring, sensual to the point that he hasn’t even done much and you already feel youself getting wet down there.

He lowered his head down to your neck, breathing in your scent before speaking in a hushed tone, “You ran away from me yesterday, kind of rude but I will let it slide,” he then lifted his head, face inches away from you, “though you have to give me something in return.”

You were paralyzed, what should you do in situations like these? Smile and nod? Agree to what he’s saying? You do not have the time to contemplate as you felt his mouth on your collarbone, making you gasp as he sucked on it.

“Silence means yes,” he mumbled, licking your neck up to your jawline, “so I’ll assume that I am allowed to this.”

His hands crawled up on your thighs, hiking your skirt up until his fingers are able to reach your underwear, “I really thought that I’ll be able to control these feelings,” he pulled the elastic bands of your panties before letting it slap your skin, the stinging sensation made you yelp, “but you make it so damn hard.”

He peered into your half-lidded eyes, seeing that he already got you falling in his trap, a smirk forming in his lips before he leaned forward, almost kissing you if not for the small distance that he created between the two of you.

“That is why I’ll make sure to act upon it, and you won’t have any choice but to take all of it.” he breathed into your lips as he closed the gap and turned it into a heated kiss, you gasped when you felt his hand sneaking underneath your clothes, fondling your breast.

His tongue slipped inside you mouth, sliding at your teeth before massaging yours in a physically gratifying way. Moans are slipping out of you, and Seonghwa lives for it.

“Enjoying this baby?” he asked after pulling away from you, a string of saliva connecting your lips together, “Yes.” you panted out, “I need more, please.”

A kiss and small touches are all he needed to do for you to break, but he wants more from you than begging.

“Shinhwa calls me papa,” Seonghwa said out of the blue as he started unbuttoning your shirt, “and you know that she’s my princess,” he continued, discarding your skirt somewhere on the floor, “and now, you’re my baby. Don’t get me wrong, I love how you call me Mr. Park, but it would be better if you called me,” he paused, ripping your undergarments apart that allowed him to see every inch of you, “Daddy.”

The cold breeze from the airconditioner made you hug yourself and close your legs, unconsciously hiding yourself from Seonghwa, causing him to click his tongue as he pulled your arms away, exposing your supple bosom to him. He licked his lips, your erect nipples are basically requesting to be sucked on, so he did just that.

He dived into you, putting your nub in his mouth as his tongue circled and flicked around it, he used his teeth to catch your nipple, gently pulling it before releasing. He did the same to your other boob, making sure to get his hands working as it snaked down, prying your legs open and dipping a finger in your heat.

“So wet,” he remarked, chuckling when you let out a whine, “does my baby want these fingers inside her?” he cooed at you, wanting to hear that word from your mouth. He is aware that when you said it, he’ll go wild, can’t contain his self anymore, and it’s not like he plans to.

“Yes, daddy, I want your fingers inside me. Please, give it to me.” you asked him coyly, eyes looking all innocent yet your words are full of lust.

“Since you asked so nicely.” he slipped two fingers inside, your wet cunt sucking his fingers in just right, “Shit, so tight, I can’t wait to fuck this pussy.” he uttered before pumping in and out of your hole, his long digits curling and hitting the spot that makes your toes curl from how good it feels.

The squelching and your loud moans echoed throughout the room, Seonghwa groaned when he felt your walls clenched around his fingers, signalling that you’re close. He continued his ministrations, fingering you harder and faster that had you gripping the sofa that you’re laid on.

“Daddy, I’m-” you tried speaking, but the pleasure that you’re feeling right now is hindering you from doing so. “Shh, baby, let it out. I got you.” he whispered in your ear before he leaned down, mouth ghosting over your heat, his hot breath tingling your whole body. And when you think that you won’t get anymore than this, he started guzzling on your clit. Your breathing stopped as a you let out a loud wail, your intense climax washing over you.

You tried to stabilize your breathing, until you felt this overwhelming sensation that is caused by overstimulation, you looked down, only to see Seonghwa still going on with his services on your cunt. You shied your body away from him, but he kept a tight grip on your legs, not letting you go that easily. He momentarily detaches his lips from your drenched hole, his lips shiny from your juices.

“One more time, baby girl, you can do it.” he encouraged you, then he goes back to eating you out like he didn’t have a proper meal for days. His obnoxious slurping and forceful lapping made your head spin, it’s too much for you take. You feel like fainting, revelling at the moment as your mind went to the clouds when your second orgasm came crashing at you like a wave, drowning you in euphoria.

Seonghwa lifted his head, licking his lips and savoring every tad bit of your essence, feeling satisfied when he saw your fucked out face, but sorry not sorry, he’s not done with you yet.

You stirred around when you felt your legs being wrapped around a waist, you didn’t felt him move with how exhausted you are, but looking at him now, he had already removed his pants, and he’s now exposing his all, ready to screw the hell out of you.

“Wait a minute, please give me some time to rest.” you mumbled, but he only smirked devilishly at your request, “Resting is for when we are done, babe.” he said, slipping in you slowly and your hands automatically went on his neck, the initial stretch making you feel so full with how thick and large he is. He’s nice enough to let you adjust yet rough like a barbarian as he started pounding into you in a hard and animalistic pace.

You don’t know how he does it, but in every thrust he takes, your walls wrap around him lusciously that you feel every piece of his shaft in you, even the way his tip bumps in your cervix. If this is what miracles feel like, you thanked the deities for letting you experience this once in a lifetime opportunity.

Your grip on his hair tighten as he angled his hips, letting him go deeper into you and hitting your sweet spot, ripping a loud moan out of your throat.

“So tight and warm for me,” Seonghwa panted out, grabbing your boobs, squeezing them and pinching your nipples, “all for me right? Every part of you is mine from now on.”

You love the way he sounded so possessive right now, and it’s given that you’re already consumed with desire for the man, thus, you won’t have any qualms about giving yourself to him.

“Yes, I’m yours, daddy. I’m all yours, take me, all of me, please.”

He will do that, he will fucking do that as he increased his speed, ramming into you relentlessy, your pussy eating his cock deliciously. His thrusts got messier but still is enough to send you over the edge, you constricted around him, it’s like his manhood is getting choked, the walls on his balls getting knocked down and opening the dams, and there goes his own release coating your insides white.

He pulled out of you after regaining his composure, his cum mixing with yours, dripping onto the sofa as the both you of heaves some air in your lungs after that zealous session. He watched as you stood up with all your strength, legs wobbly but you still tried your best to clean yourself up and put your clothes on. Those actions made Seonghwa’s eyes squint.

“What are you doing?” he asked, eyes observing as you picked your bag up and began making yourself presentable for the public to see, “What do you think? Getting ready to leave.” you said, turning on your heels to walk out of the door when a hand clutched your wrist, preventing you from leaving.

“Stay.”

One word that you never expected from him, is that the reason why you are elated to hear that? Because your standards are low and now he went out of his way to exceed it?

You looked at him, surprise written all over your face as you let out a dumb ‘What?’ at his request, or more like a command.

“Spend the night here, I,” he paused, picking his words carefully so he won’t scare you off, “I want you here beside me tonight.” he finished, eyes staring at you earnestly, hoping that you’ll consider what he’s saying.

You nodded your head, “Alright b-” your statement was cut short when a cheery Seonghwa carried you, bridal style, all the way to bedroom, dumping you on the mattress and cuddling you, his neverending thank you’s ringing in your ears.

“Put some clothes on please, and hey! Watch where you’re touching me!”

All of your halfhearted complaints went on deaf ears as Seonghwa already made his self comfortable in your presence under the covers. Drifting off to dreamland, two things are in his mind, first is how much he enjoys being with you, and second, he should probably spray some air freshener and disinfect the sofa so that his child won’t come home to a sex filled air and home.

After that passionate night with Seonghwa, you find yourself on their household a lot more than you should have. It’s not exactly your fault, but counting the number of your intercourse with the man of the house, it intrinsically made you sleep there every single night.

One more thing, the amount of money he gives you has been doubled. He handed you the envelope that you left when you bolted yourself out of his freshly showered body, and upon opening it, you noticed that the cash is thicker than before. No one’s complaining though, you get more money and great sex, you’re basically living the life that most people would die for.

Two more things, you’re basically living there at this point wherein there are those times when everything feels so domestic.

Like that one time when the both of you decided to cook breakfast together, feeding each other pancakes and laughing when Shinhwa got jealous for not getting any. Let’s also count the cleaning day, doing household chores together and him backhugging you and kissing your cheeks everytime he gets the chance.

But maybe, the most memorable one is the thing that happened this morning. Your eyelids fluttering when you felt hands running on your hair, and there greeted you the most handsome face with a pleasant smile, his deep voice telling you a goodmorning and a surprise that he prepared.

“I already got our tickets to Hawaii booked, so pack your bags and get ready for our flight tomorrow.”

How romantic really, it feels like a family trip, and you’re all set, ready to get your beauty sleep so you’ll have the energy for tomorrow but apparently, the man who set the whole thing up has other plans.

“We won’t be able to do this during the trip, Shinhwa will be sleeping with us in the room.” he reiterated when you tried pushing him off, continuing to bury his face in your womanhood, his tongue pushing inside your soaked hole and making sure to lap up all of your juices while his thumb played with your clit. Your sweet release building up in your lower abdomen. Just a few more of his tongue in you, mo-

“Papa?”

The two of you jolted when you heard the small voice of a child, detangling your bodies and hiding under the blanket, frantically putting your discarded panties and clothing that Seonghwa thankfully didn’t throw around the room.

“Yes sweetie? Do you need something?” Seonghwa asked his daughter, putting on a frazzled smile, calming his heart rate down after getting the shock of his life. The young girl looked at you, waddling over to your side and making grabby hands, “Mommy, I can’t sleep.”

You blinked once, twice, thrice, okay, what? Did she just called you that? For real? Or is she sleep deprived that she’s hallucinating or making up words?

On the other hand, Seonghwa only smirked, not opposed to the idea that his genius of a daughter had laid out.

“Well, she can’t sleep, what are you gonna do about it, 'mommy’?” he teased, you shot him a wide eyed look, even then, your attention went back to the child, you sighed, leaving the bed and picking her up, setting her down in the space between you and his father.

“Looks like someone is excited for tomorrow’s trip.” you mumbled, pushing the hair away from Shinhwa’s face before patting her hips gently, making the child relax on your hold, a yawn escaping her lips after a few minutes.

This is a sight that Seonghwa could get used to, he did not misjudged you at all, you truly are perfect. The missing puzzle piece that will complete the picture that he’s been yearning for. His main objective, not to let you go.

Maybe not, disbelief clouding his sanity as his ex-girlfriend coincidentally showed up in the same hotel that the three of you checked in.

“Hey Seonghwa, it’s been a while since I last saw you.” she said, flashing her pearly white teeth, the man in front of her can only let out a fake smile, wanting to get out of here as soon as possible.

“Nayoung, yes it’s been a long time.” he stood there awkwardly, his feet bouncing as he wished for the employee to come back with the keys for the room where you’ll stay in, and as if the gods are mocking him, you entered the lobby along with Shinhwa, asking what’s taking him so long.

You stopped in your tracks when you saw a drop dead gorgeous lady beside him, and seeing their body language, it’s not hard to put the pieces together.

The lady stopped her yapping at Seonghwa, focusing her eyes on the child that is standing behind you, “Oh my God! Is this our daughter?!”

That left a bitter taste in your mouth, she clearly said that out loud on purpose and you wanted to slap her right across the face. She has the audacity to call Shinhwa her daughter when she literally abandoned her for some other man. Your annoyance soon turned into hurt when she picked the young girl up, Seonghwa marching up to her to reprimand her behavior.

You felt out of place, looking at them, they look like the picture perfect family. A pretty mother, handsome father, and an adorable child, and you are nothing but the babysitter that they need whenever they have to go on date nights.

Oh no, your emotions are acting up, tears swelling on the corner of your eyes, but you held your pride up, you won’t cry in front of them, never.

“I’ll leave you all be.” you said in a shaky voice, speed walking away from the trio, your heart breaking the more you stand in the same room with them.

You missed the way Nayoung’s face contorted into indignation when Shinhwa’s hands reached out for you, calling you mommy and wanting to stay in your arms rather than the lady that’s currently holding unto her.

“No!” she exclaimed, “I am mommy, not her!” she angrily said, scaring the child who started wailing as she looked at her father.

“Stop it, Nayoung!” Seonghwa reproached the woman, taking Shinhwa and rocking her softly in his arms, her bawling ceased bit by bit, “What? Don’t tell me you’re into that girl? You are so much b-” Nayoung’s words died down on her throat when Seonghwa looked at her with resent, shrinking on her spot when he loomed over her.

“Don’t say things like that ever again,” he started, voice full of vex as if he’s ready to fight someone, “you are not Shinhwa’s mother, you never did, and you never will. Y/N is the one who occupies that spot.”

The lady scoffed, not wanting to back down as her pride would be hurt by the fact that Seonghwa would choose you instead of her, “Do you even love her?”

“Yes, I love her. Heck, my feelings for her are even greater than when I was with you,” he replied without hesitance, fully acknowledging the blooming fondness in his chest that he’s been harboring for so long, “so back off before I make your already regretful life a living hell.” he warned, the woman gritted her teeth in humiliation, leaving with a scowl in her face.

Seonghwa sighed in relief, “Are you okay, darling?” he asked his daughter, and when she gave an affirmative nod, he dropped her off in the hotel room.

“Stay here, okay? Papa will come back with mommy soon.” he said, hugging his daughter before dashing out of the door, a guard already stationed outside, of course he’ll take extra precautions, he won’t leave his child alone.

Beads of sweat are sliding down on his face, his nerves going in an overdrive as he wracked his head of your whereabouts. It’s been an hour since you left, and the sun is already setting down. For sure you didn’t went anywhere outside of the hotel, you won’t risk getting lost in a different country. Or maybe you would?

‘No, don’t overthink, you’ll find her.’ he thought, convincing his self that, he just needs to think hard of where you could be. And like a miracle, as he passed through the pool area, he saw the familiar mop of hair, you were sitting beside the pool, playing with the chlorine waters.

He dashed his way over to you, banging his head over a glass wall that he didn’t notice, the sound catching your attention as you turned your head to see a brooding Seonghwa. You stood up in a hurry, you just finished your crying session and you don’t want him to see your puffy face, what you didn’t estimated was the slippery floor. Your world spinned for a second before the cold water soaked you, it should be like that but you felt something warm on your body, upon opening your eyes, you see the man you’re hiding from.

“Baby, are you okay?” you mumbled a small ‘yes’, making him sigh in relief, “I tried to save you from falling, but I fell with you instead.” he explained, the context behind his words made your heart soar, but then it sank down when you remembered his ex-girlfriend.

“Shouldn’t you be wi-” your statement was cut short when a pair of lips shut you up, his hands cupping your face as yours instinctively went over his shoulders.

“I already am with you, love, and that is what matters the most.”

You gaped at him, not believing what he’s saying, and it seems that it reflected in your face as he squished your cheeks, chuckling at you and stroking your skin gently.

“Listen, I have no feelings for that bitch anymore,” you snorted at that, him cussing at his ex is funny, you have to admit, “it’s you that I want, ever since I laid my eyes on your figure that is scared shitless in front of me,” you slapped his chest, letting out a soft ‘hey’ as he reminisced the time when he first met you, “I knew I’ll love you.” he leaned his forehead into yours, the air around you turning into an intimate one, “And I’ll show you how much you mean to me right now.”

He backed you off into the corner of the pool before he lurched forward, pouring all of his emotions in the kiss so you will always remember that he’ll always go back to you, that it’s you that he’ll choose even until the afterlife.

You willingly opened your mouth for him to explore, his tongue massaging yours while a hand went over to your chest, pulling your dress down with your bra, revealing your breasts and already perky nipples. He gave your tits a squeeze, his fingers rolling and pulling on your nubs as he detaches from the kiss, his mouth trailing down your jawline as he left love bites all over your neck.

“Wait,” you panted as he hummed against your skin, “what if someone comes in? They’ll see us.”

He groaned, fingers snaking their way in your lower area, “Let them enjoy the show then,” he murmured, spreading your legs apart and pushing your panties to the side, plunging two fingers inside you that had your back arching in pleasure, “I want them to see how much of a slut you are for me.”

That’s the first time he used that word on you, he never degraded you before, and now that he did, you wanted him to do it again.

His digits stilled inside you, making you whine at the loss of friction, he chuckled at how needy you are for him.

“My baby wants more?” he cooed in your ears, his scorching breath vibrating throughout your body, “If you want more then beg for it.”

You whimpered before gathering the courage to slip your hand in his pants, sliding it down as you started to stroke his hardening member, making his breathing hitch at your touch.

“Please daddy, I’ll be good, touch me more please.” you shamelessly begged for him, and he doesn’t need to be told twice as he instantly curled his fingers inside you in a constant pace, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, your hand halting its movement on his shaft as you focused on the pleasure that’s been building up inside you.

“Daddy, close-” you gasped when his thumb started toying with your clit in a circular motion, your neck snapping at the back as you let out a loud cry of his name, your sweet release washing over your whole being. Seonghwa pumped his finger in and out for a few seconds, letting you ride your high before pulling it out when you started to pull away from him due to the over satiation.

He situated his self in between your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist, he adjusted your position, causing his tip to poke at your wet entrance, a mewl coming out of your mouth at the slight intrusion.

“I won’t go easy on you baby girl.” he mumbled, pecking your lips before going inside you in one powerful push, eliciting a loud moan out of you. His pace started out slow, but you soon got impatient, “Daddy please,” you clawed at his back, “faster, fuck me harder.”

It’s a good thing that he let you adjust first, because the moment you said that, the man went feral, all sweetness and gentle touches were replaced with brutal and bestial pounding that had your toes curling from the amount of tantalizing delight that you’re feeling.

You felt him hit deep inside, and you’re sure that his dick is bulging in your lower abdomen.

“Loving this?” he whispered, tugging your hair and exposing your neck for him to mark all over, “Yes, daddy, god, I love this so much, please don’t stop.” he bit your collarbone at your response, you clearly know how to get him going, knows the exact words to say for him to crack the gentleman facade he built up over the years.

“Such a lewd girl,” he remarked, “and it’s all mine.” he muttered, each word punctuated with a thrust, reminding you that you are already his possession, a trophy that no one is allowed to touch but him.

When his cock hits a certain spot, you let out a loud shriek, a bubble forming that is ready to burst when jabbed, nothing to worry about, Seonghwa is more than willing to do that job. His digits returned on your bundle of nerves, playing with it until you reached your high.

He waited until your ragged breathing turned into a more stable one, pulling out of you and brushing your hair back, “But you still haven’t cum yet.” you said weakly as he let your feet down on the ground, “And who said that we’re done?” and with that, he spun you around, placing his hands on your waist to support you.

“I still haven’t made you scream,” he laughed sinisterly, a guttural groan coming out of him as he entered you from behind, your sensitive walls tensing around him, “and that is my mission for tonight.”

Being railed from behind is like being blindfolded itself, you can’t see who’s fucking you so good, but all you know is that every stretch of his thick, pulsating cock is pure paradise. Especially when the man wrapped a hand around your throat, cutting a bit of air in your lungs, and you’re suddenly hyperaware of everything that is happening on your surrounding and in your body.

“You take me up so good, baby,” he leaned towards you, licking the curvature of your spine up to your neck, “I’m close, and want, no, need to cum inside you.”

You let out a loud cry at his insinuation, “Bet you want that,” the water splashing around as his pounding got sloppy, hands slithering upwards and gripping your breasts tightly, “you full of my cum, god, I’ll put a baby in your belly if you said so.”

His dirty talk did nothing to contain your upcoming third orgasm, and the fact that he let his breeding kink out is so hot, “Yes daddy, fill me up with you cum and get me pregnant. I’ll gladly carry your children.” you said, tilting your head to the side as you signalled for him to lean down, pulling him in a searing kiss, mouths clashing together as you sucked on his tongue, earning you moan from him.

Just the thought of your swollen stomach, knowing that it’s his child growing inside you, that’s enough to send him over the edge. His warmth filling your core has you thrashing around, coming after him that caused your walls to tighten and literally sucked all his seeds out.

“Let’s fix ourselves, can you walk?” he asked when he pulled out of you, the emptiness that you felt almost made you whine, but you held it back. “Yeah, I can, let’s go back to our room.”

He helped you get out of the pool, walking hand in hand in the hallways and not minding the weird looks that some people threw at the both of you. It’s natural, seeing two wet people, giggling like maniacs.

Upon opening the door, Shinhwa immediately ran to you, hugging you and telling you how much she missed you. Then she asked the dreaded question, “Why are you and papa wet? You’re really messy too!” she exclaimed before pointing an accusatory finger at her father, “Did you hurt mommy?!”

Seonghwa smirked, “No, honey, actually it’s the contrary, I- Ouch!” he yelped in pain when you pinched his side, feigning a smile at the child, you crouched down at her height, “We’re fine, some things just happened,” you heard the man behind you snort, your head snapped at him, shooting him a warning look to which he only shrugged off, “don’t worry too much and let’s go to sleep, yeah?”

Shinhwa looks a bit doubtful, but since she doesn’t have any proof of what is really going on, she decided to let it go, “Okay.” she pouted as you stood up, “This young lady should be a detective, she’s awfully perceptive and she’s only five!” you whisper-yelled at Seonghwa, causing him to chortle as he put an arm around your shoulders.

“Let’s take a shower and change our clothes, don’t want anyone of us getting sick.” he mumbled, kissing your hair before doing all the night time routine before heading to bed.

Your peaceful slumber was disrupted when the continuous tapping on your forehead won’t stop, you opened your eyes and was about to curse but you successfully stopped yourself when you saw Shinhwa beaming at you at like, 5:47 in the morning?

“Sweetie, why are you up?” you asked her groggily, about to call Seonghwa but you noticed that he wasn’t on his side of the bed.

“Come with me!” the child tugged at your arm, she’s so energetic in the morning, must be nice being a kid, you laughed a bit as you put on your shoes, “Okay, okay, I’ll go with you.”

To your confusion, she brought you to the beach, and not so far away, there stood Park Seonghwa in all his glory, looking at the horizon.

It’s amazing how you got a man like him, as you observe his side profile, you realized how flawless he is. Sharp nose line, full kissable lips, bright wide eyes, tall, lean, and you could go on about him for days if not for him looking at you, making your brain malfunction and all thoughts just went away. The soft glow of the sunrise lit him up like a prince, and you momentarily forgot to breathe when he went closer to you.

“Goodmorning babe, how was your sleep?” he queried, making you raise an eyebrow, “Fine.” you answered back, “That’s nice.”

His eyes trained to Shinhwa who excitedly pulled out something from her pocket, extending it towards her father, “Do you remember this?” the man in received the item, showing you what it is afterwards.

“That!”

It was the box back then, the one that you dropped when you were caught snooping in Seonghwa’s room.

“Good to know that you still haven’t forgotten this,” he glanced at the velvet box, sadness flashing in his eyes as he opened up to you, “this is the last thing that I got from my mother before she died.” He proceeded to open the box, revealing what’s inside it.

A beautiful silver ring with a diamond on top, he plucked the ring out and held it up to you, the light from the sun making it sparkle, “Did you know what she told me?” an endeared smile forming on his lips as his eyes moved towards your beautiful face, “She told me to give this to the person that I would want to spend an eternity with.”

Your eyes glossed over with tears, hands clasping over your mouth, you can’t find it in yourself to believe that what’s happening right now is real.

As the sun continues its ascend up in the sky, so is your heartbeat as Seonghwa’s eyes shined with love,

“I want you to bind your red string on me and I will blindly put my faith in you. So, will you grow old with me?”

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

Taglist:

@hyuckilstan @gwenchwana @bloomingsann @btsreader12 @hwadump @minkiflwr @ateezbabysitters

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viviennevermillion · 3 years ago

Text

aubade [n.]

notes: 5th repost because this website literally hates me and removed this post from the tags which I hope are fixed now. rubs hands The song in the story is "Her Voice" which is sung by Prince Eric from the Little Mermaid Broadway Musical, it has she/her pronouns in the song but it'd work with any gender so I rewrote the lines to fit the gn!reader. If you want to you could imagine Azul singing it for you in this story. This absolutely does line up with my headcanon that Azul passionately sings musical numbers when he thinks no one is listening. I can honestly can see him actually have that voice.

aubade [n.]: a love song sung at dawn; dawn serenade

contains: Azul x gn!reader, a very flustered Azul, Azul in his octopus form, reader has magic in this

warnings: none

It was 7am, a godforsaken hour in the morning, in your opinion, and you had barely slept that whole night as you were trying to do a week's worth of homework, starting in the middle of the night. Procrastination seemed like it'd be fitting to be one of the modern world's cardinal sins and you were now suffering from god's punishment which came in the form of a headache, eyes that didn't want to stay open and the question how you'd survive the day without consuming an unholy amount of caffeine or dramatically perishing on Professor Trein's table. Why didn't I do these tasks earlier? I didn't even have to deal with an overblot this week...

So for now, since sleeping was out of the question, you had decided to spend your last couple of hours before class taking a flight across the Isle, which was technically not allowed but Crowley had given you a key to the broom closet "for emergencies" and this was quite obviously, at least in your eyes, an emergency. You had at least gotten rid of your headache thanks to the nurse in the infirmary and spending some time flying, knowing you could fall to your death at any given minute, surely should wake you up. In a way you could understand Azul and his attitude towards flying.

Ah yes, Azul Ashengrotto. The guy you were hopelessly in love with since the day he almost knocked you out with a tentacle while screaming "I can't do this anymore" only to later sob and want to withdraw to his octopus pot. A horrible moment to pick for realizing your feelings for somebody, really. If anyone would ever ask you about this, you vowed to just say it was love at first sight when he picked up your pen in the hallway or something.

Not that you'd ever tell him anyway. He'd probably just try to scam you or use that information to his advantage in some other way. You looked over the landscapes below you and noticed the ocean at sunrise reminded you of Azul's beautiful eyes. I really should stop thinking about him every time my brain isn't busy with class, overblots or Crowley's horrible management of his school..., you thought to yourself as you decided to land on the beach and take a quick break there. It was a secluded part of the beach that you had found a couple of weeks ago and that was pretty hard to get to if you didn't swim or use a broom.

You were about to sit down in the sand and watch the sunrise as you heard a voice coming from further along the beach. You decided to walk towards it, curious who was singing so beautifully at this early hour.

"Somewhere there's the one who's like the shimmer of the wind upon the water, somewhere there's someone who's like the glimmer of the sunlight on the sea, somewhere there's the one who's like a swell of endless music"

You almost gasped in surprise as your eyes laid upon Azul, sitting on a rock near the shore in what appeared to be his true form. He was simply mesmerizing.

"And their voice, it's sweet as angels sighing; and their voice, it's warm as summer sky; and that sound, it haunts my dreams and spins me round until it seems I'm flying"

You didn't dare disrupt him, as you feared he'd stop and try to disappear into the ocean. You couldn't believe he detested this form as much as he did. He was beautiful. If only he could see it. If only he knew you loved him.

"Strange as a dream, real as the sea; if you can hear me now, come set me free"

He finished his beautiful serenade, slowly turning around. "Come set me fr- EEK", he shrieked as he saw you and it looked as if he was about to fall off the rock if his tentacles didn't cling to it. He was about to scoot off into the sea when you walked towards him.

"Azul, no no no, wait!", you called out to him and he realized that if he wanted to get out of this situation it was better to confront you now and offer you some deal you couldn't refuse. As long as no one ever found out about this, maybe he'd be fine. He grabbed the potion he had placed beside the rock and frantically downed it, turning back into his human form not shortly after. His shoes and socks were wet from basically still standing in the water and his legs were shaking as if he was standing on his feet for the first time. He just hoped you wouldn't notice.

"Please forget you've ever seen that form", he told you, trying to sound as composed as possible as he walked back to the shore, "I can offer you a deal-" "I think you have such a beautiful voice", you marveled at the song you just heard him sing, "I could listen to you sing for hours. And I think you're actually really pretty....in both forms I mean"

He almost choked on his own spit and hid his face behind his hands, blushing furiously. "You're making it worse, you know that?", he pouted. You let out a small chuckle. "Really what do you want so you don't tell anyone about this? And to never talk about this again in general", he picked up his glasses and put them on. You insisted that you didn't want anything but he didn't back off.

"Fine", you said, "I suppose there is something. But only if you want. If not, I'll pick something different." He gestured for you to go ahead. "How about we go out sometime. As like....you know....a date?" Azul stared at you in shock. "Wait wha-" "I want to go out with you", you said, this time more clearly, cursing yourself whilst knowing your bravery or more accurately, recklessness, definitely came from the sleep deprivation. Azul needed a moment to process what it was you had said. "Uh, I- I suppose we could arrange that", he cleared his throat and reached out his hand to you, "to seal the deal." You smiled at him. "How about we seal it with a kiss?", you suggested.

A blush once again crept onto Azul's face and he just nodded while trying to avoid looking into your eyes. You stepped closer to him and pressed a sweet, soft kiss to his cheek. "I never thought we'd have a deal I like one day", you chuckled and gently brushed a strand of his still wet hair out of his face. As you left the beach that morning, you could see Azul looking after you and you could have sworn you've seen him smile to himself when you told him you were looking forward to your date with him. I do too, y/n, more than you know..., he thought.

#twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x you

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bopbopstyles · 4 years ago

Photo

ELEVATED SURFACES

RATING: R/smut (sex, heavy alcohol use, smoking, lots of cursing)

WORD COUNT: 11.6k

CATEGORIES: fratboy!harry

MASTERLIST (check it out for extras) | INSPO TAG | PLAYLIST

a/n: as a recently graduated srat girl and lover of a good frat party, this one shot was intended to fill the whole in my heart which is LEGIT frat Harry. he is fratty and hot and long haired and a mess. if u like this try out TEMPTATION which is my other frat!h series and the first thing i ever wrote on this gd website (he’s not as fratty but we love him a LOT)

a/n pt.2: as a note, i want to make very clear that frats and greek organizations frequently harbor predators and abusers. i do not in any way condone that behavior or that reality, and i would like to bring attention to a petition to remove a fraterity that had done truly many horrible things--your signature would be a huge help. for survivors of assault, you are not alone, and it is not your fault.

As you rose up, your eyes locked on a figure in the doorway of the basement. His long hair was loose, curls that had been pulled out from the hair tie he always had on his wrist, a tight white shirt that you knew meant all of his tattoos were on display. Harry was watching you, you realized as you twisted your hips and bounced your arms up and down with the beat, singing the words. So you kept his gaze, and just to taunt him, when the chorus hit again, you dropped down, ass hitting your heels, eyes on his the whole time.

Harry is a very fratty frat boy and Y/N is a really good dancer

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

“We really should not be still going to our own mixers,” Emily said to you, fluffing her hair and rotating to check her ass in her jeans. You looked up from where you were sitting on your bed, a gin and tonic in one hand to get your blood flowing before the party started. Emily sighed, and then turned from the mirror to you, grabbing the coffee cup that had never seen coffee, just alcohol. “Are people even going?”

You nodded, tossing your phone next to you and leaning against the bed frame. “Alexis is on her way over—she got held up finishing an essay. Maya said she might come, I tried to convince her by promising I’d bring my flask and you’d have your Juul.”

“I swear, she has to just give in and get one of her own.” Emily took a long sip and crossed her arms.

“She claims that will make her addicted.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “She’s already addicted—she uses half my pods and ends up hanging out with whatever guy will let her take a hit. Is it just going to be us and all the new members?”

“No, I think some juniors are going. And definitely the sophomores—they’re all on the little hunt.” You got up, going to your computer to change the song, scrolling through your comprehensive and well-curated pregame playlist. “Plus, who gives a fuck, we’ll only be there for an hour or two for the free alcohol and then we’re hitting the bars.”

“True.” A knock came from the door, and Emily hollered to come in, and Alexis appeared in the doorway, her makeup looking utterly flawless as always. You had always wanted Alexis’s wardrobe and told her constantly, to which Alexis always replied that she wished you were the same size. Unfortunately, Alexis was a solid five inches shorter than you and had a completely different bra size, making sharing quite difficult.

“Bitches, I brought tequila!” Alexis swung into the room in a cloud of perfume, and threw her arms around you and Emily’s shoulders. “Come on, we need to get tipsy before we get to this mixer. Nick already texted me making sure I was coming.”

“Grab the shot glasses,” You replied, nodding to the makeshift bar cart in the corner, which as laden with glasses of all kinds and all your alcohol. “Are you hooking up with him tonight?”

Alexis shrugged, pulling her tequila from her bag and setting it on your desk before turning and going for the shot glasses. “Probably. I don’t know, he’s been weird lately—we hooked up on Monday night, but then he got all weird and left like immediately after and hasn’t texted me since. Barely acknowledged me when we saw each other in the library.”

“Was the sex weird?” Emily asked, unscrewing the top on the tequila so she could pour.

“Yeah,” Alexis replied, holding the glasses steady while Emily poured. “Like weirdly…intense? I let him come inside me which was probably a stupid idea, but I’m on the IUD so we should be all good. And then I offered to let him stay and he just got all flustered and said he had to go.”

You took your full shot glass, and you all clinked before tossing them back, the alcohol burning on your throat. You hated tequila shots but Alexis loved them, and you did admit they did their job. “Do you think he’s caught feelings?”

Alexis’s eyes widened. She had been pining after Nick for ages, his tall basketball stature and surprisingly good fashion sense a dime a dozen. Much less, apparently the sex was insane, so what wasn’t to like? “You think? I thought it might’ve not been his vibe.”

Emily grabbed the bottle. “Another?” You all nodded, and she poured again, The Weeknd crooning in the background. “Just see what happens tonight, feel out what his vibe his.”

“Good idea.” You slammed back another shot, hissing before setting down the glass. “Okay, that’s enough tequila or you two are going to be carrying me home tonight.”

Emily and Alexis laughed, before taking seats on your bed, continuing to chatter about the night ahead. It was a Friday, your favorite night because it was usually just mixers, no general parties, which as a senior you had grown to despise. The fighting for watered down alcohol, packed bodies and horrific gender ratio was simply no longer something you had the energy to deal with. Mixers were your preferred zone, filled with your sorority sisters who you adored, the opportunity to actually hang out with the frat brothers whose presence you enjoyed, and usually pong. Sometimes they even let you DJ because you had the best party playlists. The president of Sig Ep had actually asked for the link one time and you’d heard they used it sometimes when the brothers didn’t want to man the computer anymore.

You surveyed your outfit in your narrow mirror, the black denim jeans and simple white tank that showed a bit of stomach and your tan you’d worked hard on during your winter escape to the Caribbean with your lineage. It was simple, yet it suited your needs—after three and a half years of college parties, you had discovered getting dressed up for frat parties was a useless activity, since your clothes would get drenched in jungle juice and sweat anyways. You left your best outfits for Saturday nights spent clubbing downtown.

If you were being honest, the whole reason you were going tonight was because at the last mixer you’d had with Beta, you’d turned around on the dance floor to find Harry’s eyes on you. You were already dancing with another one of the brothers and ended up making out with him in a corner until you got bored, but you hadn’t been able to get the sight of his eyes on you out of your head.

You’d known Harry since freshman year, your interactions limited mostly to mixers and the occasional run-in in the dining halls when you exchanged pleasantries, or the one time he’d volunteered for a karaoke team for your sorority philanthropy event and you’d been in charge of his team. But the two of you had rarely ever spent time together. That didn’t mean you hadn’t had a lingering crush on him since you’d first laid eyes on him, though, and over the years he’d only gotten more attracted. A body that filled out his white t-shirts and black jeans, hair long and sweeping his shoulders to where he wore it in a bun most times, a jaw that could cut glass. He was hot and he knew it, as did everyone else on campus.

As juniors you had both been on the executive boards of your respective Greek organizations and had ended up in meetings together about housing violations and social calendars, but it hadn’t ever led to much more than you both complaining about how fucking annoying FIJI and their insistent requests for a house was, considering they’d trashed their last one. But this year, you’d found his eyes on you multiple times, and you wondered if perhaps your time had arrived. You’d both always danced around each other and you were curious after all these years if he was finally interested in hooking up. Not that you really expected much more, or were looking for much else—you were a senior, after all, and you were enjoying it.

“Y/N.” Alexis’s voice ripped you from your musings over Harry, her fingers snapping from her spot on your bed. “What’s got you thinking hard over there?”

“Harry?” Emily guessed, one eyebrow raising. “Emmett said he’ll be there tonight.”

“He’s always there,” you replied, because he was. Like you, he seemed to enjoy the mixers, but usually avoided the open parties unless he was on door duty.

“You’d hook up with him, right?”

You looked at Alexis. “Obviously. He’s so fucking hot.”

She laughed, as did Emily. “Then go for it, girl. It’s not like he’ll say no.”

You shrugged. “He might. Never know.”

“I seriously doubt that. You look hot as fuck, as usual, and are the life of the party. Beta adores you. They literally asked you to move in this year when they had an open spot.”

“It was a joke,” you reminded them, because it was—you wouldn’t ever be allowed to live in the house and they knew that. It was true though, you had become a bit of a groupie over the past few years, preferring the more laid back vibe in their house. You’d become friends with all the senior guys, except the weird or obnoxious ones, and had become a regular invite to Bachelor Monday watch parties in their second floor living room. You brought snacks and your friends, they provided the booze and the cable.

“Still,” Emily said, nudging you the toe of her black booties. “Don’t sell yourself short, babes. He is missing a brain if he’s not interested in you.”

“And seriously missing out,” Alexis added. You shot her a look, but she just chuckled. “Bitch, I lived next door to you last year. You are loud.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you said, laughing, but she was right. You were. Guys had told you on countless occasions, but you really couldn’t find it in yourself to care all that much. “Come on, we should go. Maya is texting me asking when we’re leaving.”

“Do you have your cigs?” Alexis asks you, downing the rest of the drink she’d made while you had been staring into space.

It was your vice, one you had picked up during a semester abroad and only did when you were drunk. You knew you should stop, but something about it made you feel powerful, a bit badass, so you kept doing it. “Obviously. Emmett will have a fit if I don’t.” You swiped your pack from your desk drawer and your trusty pale blue lighter, and shoved them into the pocket of your jacket. With one last swig of your drink, your veins buzzing with alcohol just the right amount, the three of you were off, singing an old Hannah Montana song in the elevator down to the lobby of your dorm.

One of the pledges was working the door, but happily let you three into the frat house. The lights on the main floor were off, except for the ones in the front study that doubled as a coat room, where you tied the arms of your jackets together and set them in the corner so you didn’t lose them. Your cigs were transferred to your back pocket, and you just prayed you didn’t forget they were there and crush them again.

Josephine and another junior were the sober sisters, and offered you three hugs before checking your names off the list. You got positive points for being there, as if that was the main reason you had shown up.

“Emmett!” Emily called, and the blond-headed boy’s head flipped up from where he was standing behind the bar. A Gatorade water cooler was sitting on the high bar, stacks of red solo cups and boxes of white claws and beers sitting on top of one another.

Aka, your happy place. “He’s bartending, thank god,” you said, and grabbed Emily and Alexis, weaving through the crowd. Girls stopped you all as you moved, hugs and squeals at your appearance. You had to admit, you were popular in your sorority, but mainly because you had made it your mission to get your money worth. As a result of your exec position, you’d gotten to know the sophomore member class and you adored them all, chaotic messes who always turned up with you and made you laugh hysterically. Honestly, you were sad to graduate because it meant leaving behind so many fun friends and memories.

“We’ve been waiting for you three,” Emmett said when you arrived in front of him. He was wearing the frat’s homecoming shirt from the previous year and his eyes were dilated, obvious that he had smoked before. “What are we drinking?”

“What’s the mix?” You asked, pointing to the cooler.

He grabbed three cups, knowing you would be taking it. “Shit ton of vodka, Kool Aid, water, the usual.”

“My favorite,” you replied, blowing him a kiss. “How is it downstairs?”

He filled the cups and handed them to you all. “They just wrapped up pong so it’s still getting moving.”

Alexis took a long sip before grabbing your hand. “Sounds like we need to get people dancing.” With that she turned around, her long slick black hair moving in a circle. “Let’s dance!” She called, and the girls around you cheered, following the three of you down the slippery steps to the basement.

Downstairs, The Motto was playing and you bobbed your head along with the beat, moving your hips as you entered the large basement space. It was dark except for a glowing sign with the Beta letters in narrow neon lights, casting the room with a tint of green. Your battered frat shoes, an old pair of white Vans, stuck against the beer and jungle juice-covered floor as you made your way to the middle. A couple of other girls and brothers were scattered around the floor, and you broke from Emily and Alexis’s hands as you twirled on the floor.

You raised your cup above your head and started dancing, rapping the lyrics by heart, moving your hands and hips along with the song. Emily and Alexis sang along with you and some of the younger girls showed up, then some other seniors who shared your love for frat parties. All of a sudden your little was screaming and running towards you, Mallory’s arms wrapping around your waist.

“Oh my fuck god, MOM,” she screamed, using the nickname she’d had for you since you’d taken her as your little two years ago. You laughed and threw your arm around her shoulders, screaming the lyrics. There was a specific reason you had taken Mallory as your little, and it was because she lost her shit at parties just as much as you did. You two were a dynamic duo like no other, and if your grand little didn’t have a huge exam on Monday, she’d be here too and you would all be dancing together as usual.

You downed your jungle juice, the sugary drink combined with the loud music blasting and your friends making your adrenaline kick into high gear. And then Maya appeared, arms waving like crazy, and then she dropped it low and you remembered why you adored her, even if she always stole Emily’s Juul. She had a beer in one hand and a white claw in the other, ready for the night ahead.

Then Emmett appeared, trailed by some of the other brothers in tank tops and t-shirts, one carrying a six pack on his shoulder and handing out warm beers to the brothers he passed. Emmett beelined for Emily, his arm thrown around her shoulder, their completely platonic friendship on show for everyone. The song ended and you took a breath, crushing your cup and tossing it into the corner so you could have your hands free. Emily pulled her Juul free and took a hit, passing it to Maya next without a question between them.

The opening notes of Come Get Her started and you immediately grabbed Alexis and Emily, beelining for the bar that the speakers rested on, something you weren’t even sure how it got there, but it was your favorite elevated surface of all time. Wide enough to dance, tall enough to be high but not too high where you couldn’t mostly stand. You clamored up, coming to nearly full height and turning to your friends.

“Somebody come get her, she’s dancing like a stripper!” You screamed, your friends coming in a circle in front of the three of you, some other girls getting up on the bar. When the line came through again, you decided fuck it, and you dropped your ass low, bending your knees and tipping your head back.

When you danced, you didn’t give a single fuck about impressing guys or any of that. You just simply loved to dance with your friends, move your hips, and didn’t care what you looked like. Mallory screamed when you got low, your name falling from her lips in a squeal of joy.

That had him moving. He joined a circle where Emmett and some other senior guys were dancing with some other girls, beers in hand as they shifted back and forth. But you knew what would have them all actually dancing and screaming and jumping along with you. You needed to see Harry like that—loose and free. So you turned around and grabbed the attention of the sophomore on aux, his name something along the lines of Justin, and screamed your song choice to him. He gave you a thumbs up, and then you turned back around. Your hair was sticking to the back of your neck, and you rolled it into a loose, high bun, pulling the elastic on your wrist around it as you swayed to the song.

You could hear the song ending, and with your eyes on Harry, you decided you would get down. He was next to a pledge with a six pack, and you wanted a beer. You were mixing alcohols like nobody’s business tonight, but you’d done worse. You squatted down and kicked your feet out, Mallory’s hand coming out to help you down. “You good?” She asked, leaning in to you.

“Yeah, just hot,” you replied. “Going to get a beer.” She nodded and let you go. There wasn’t a need to watch your friends as much in a normal party, since you knew all the girls here. Maya pulled you in for a hug as you moved, and then the current president called out your name from where she stood with her boyfriend, a white claw in her hand.

Squeezing next to Emmett, you nudged the waist of the pledge next to you. “Can I get one?” You asked, pointing to the beers.

“Yeah,” he replied, pulling one from the case and handing it to you. It was a Natty Light, but you really could’ve given fewer fucks—they were a frat after all, they didn’t buy the good stuff.

You popped the tab and took a long swig, the liquid quelling your rough throat from singing. And then, the song changed, and you smiled, eyes meeting Harry’s. You decided you were going to draw him out. “I got hoes, callin’!” You screamed, the song starting the speakers, and the boys all joined in. Fuck it, you thought, and chugged the rest of your beer so that you could jump, your arms outstretched and pumping up and down. Your bun was bouncing on your head and you were grinning, the music flowing through you.

Harry was watching you, his head tapping, hair swishing back and forth. You needed more. So you moved into the center of the circle, knowing the guys would hype you up, and reached for him. “Why aren’t you dancing?” You asked him playfully, and his eyebrow shot up.

“Fuck! Shit! Bitch!” The best lines of the song ran through the speaker and you just grabbed his hand, which was warm, and pulled on him. Suddenly his body was in front of you, close, and you tried to process what your original plan was. But then, Harry started moving, back and forth, head bopping, rapping the lyrics in time, and you knew you had gotten him. “I be ballin’, like a motherfuckin’ pro,” you sang, starting up to jump, and to your surprise, Harry joined you, a carefree expression finally crossing his face. He was screaming the lyrics then, hair bouncing as he moved. He rotated, grabbing the shoulders of another one of the boys, who joined in with him, them screaming the lyrics at each other.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the change in his demeanor so sudden. When the song changed, T-Shirt by Migos coming on, he turned back to you. All of a sudden, his lips were next to your ear and you choked on air. “Fuckin’ love that song,” he said, accent smooth in your ear.

“You and every other frat boy,” you replied, stepping backwards. You had ended up at the side of the circle closer to the wall, and so you moved towards it, freeing yourself from the heavy circle of boys.

The song was slower, not a jumping and dancing song, but one that suggested the slow grinding of hips and closeness of bodies. Which fuck it, you wanted. Desperately. He was looking at you with an intense stare, smile sloppy from alcohol, Harry sweaty on his forehead, arms straining under the fabric of his shirt. He was following you, taking a step away from his friends and following your body as if magnetic. So you just went for it, putting your weight lower, and rolled your hips back and forth to the music.

Mama told me/not to sell work/Seventeen five/same color T-shirt

Your eyes met his, and the shared intensity of his gaze stirred something inside of you. Desire. A need to know what his skin felt like, a desire that had been lingering since you first saw him. Your hands moved on their own, draping over his shoulders, and his hands found the curve of your waist, and suddenly you knew what his skin felt like on yours. They found the bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the top of your jeans, burning your already warm skin.

Justin-something on aux changed the song, deciding that was enough, and then No Role Modelz was on, and you moved, swaying back and forth, your chests coming closer and closer. His face was inches from yours and you wondered what his lips would taste like. The slow rap and smooth feel of the beat had your eyes fluttering shut, mind twirling from the alcohol and the lowlights, the heat of the packed basement. If you didn’t have Harry under your hands, you might have left for a smoke break, an excuse for air. But you weren’t letting go of him anytime soon. So you turned around and when your ass touched his dick you couldn’t help but smile—he was already hard. You felt his arm move and watched him sip his beer, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he drank. You rolled your hips against him and then reached up, grabbing the can and bringing it to your own lips, taking a sip and watching him watch you. The two of you were taunting each other, acting on a feeling that had always been an undercurrent in every one of your interactions, a slight sexual tension that if you pulled on would become taught.

Which as you pressed against him, you fucking yanked on. His free hand clasped around your hip, holding you close and swaying in time with you. You could feel the sweat that had soaked through his t-shirt a bit, but you didn’t care—you were sweaty yourself, so was everyone in the room. It was part of the appeal, the fact that everyone was a mess and no one cared. He was rock hard between the denim of both of your jeans, and you could feel the power racing through you, the fact that you had him like this going straight to your head.

When Mr. Brightside came on, you decided that was your smoke break time. You couldn’t stand the song after so many years, and the feeling of bodies pressing together as they jumped was too much for you. “I’m going to get some air,” you said, turning around so you could face Harry.

He was so close to you, just inches away, when his tongue licked over his lip. “Can I come with?”

“Sure.” You grabbed his hand as you moved through the crowd, pushing between frat brothers and your sorority sisters who were all dancing together to the song. When you made it through the exit you sighed, the stale air of the stairwell even feeling better than that room.

“Fuck it was hot in there,” Harry said, your hand dropping from his. He followed you up the stairs and you nodded. You pushed open the door and a Doja Cat song was playing, some people upstairs scattered around, drinking and talking, some sitting on couches together. You waved to Maya, who seemed to have also needed a break, and nodded to the door as if to tell her you were getting some air.

“I’m going to smoke if that’s okay,” you told him as you made your way to the door, pulling your cigs and lighter from your back pocket.

He nodded. “Can I bum one?”

You opened the heavy oak door and said hello to the handful of guys sitting on the steps, who were manning the door and making sure no one random got in. “Sure,” you responded to Harry finally, sitting down on the concrete half wall that lined the landing. You could hear the slight thump of the music, but for the most part it was quiet, the the frat house a couple yards away not throwing anything tonight.

Harry leaned against the wall close to you, taking your offered cigarette. You flicked the lighter and raised it to your cigarette, taking a drag when it lit. Then you handed it to Harry, who accepted it gladly, doing the same. The smoke filled your lungs and your drunken mind considered that you should quit, but at the same time, you liked having something to do when you got air, an excuse to be on the steps. One of the other guys asked for one, and you handed one over, making a new friend.

And then you looked back to Harry. “So,” you said, tapping the ash on your cig. “How have you been?”

You hadn’t seen him since your last mixer with Beta, but you two hadn’t talked in ages. “Good,” he replied. “Busy with classes and stuff.”

“What are you studying again?”

“Political science,” he answered, and your eyebrows shot up. You had expected business or economics, like most of the Beta brothers.

“Why poli sci?”

He shrugged, tapping the ash before taking another drag. “Dunno, really. Took a class freshman year and liked it enough.”

“You don’t want to work in politics or something?”

“I don’t really know what I want to do, honestly.”

“You make it sound like that’s unusual,” you tell him. “Most people don’t.”

He chuckles, a low sound from the back of his throat, and you like the sound of it. “I’ll tell my dad that next time we talk.” You could tell there was a story there, but didn’t push. It wasn’t that kind of moment. “What about you?”

“Psych and pre-law,” you reply, the answer rolling off your tongue with ease.

“Oh? What kind of law?”

You took another drag before answering. “Criminal defense, but I want to work with people on death row.”

His eyes widen, just as you expected. It’s the usual response from people. “Fuck, that’s awesome. What made you interested in it?”

“I just got really into true crime when I was in middle school and ended up doing research on the criminal justice system and what a fucking disaster it is. Death sentences and death row especially. So I want to overturn false convictions.”

He puffed a cloud of smoke, and you watched his lips form a circle, a dark pink color that drew you in. “And you said most people don’t know what they want to do.”

A breeze made the hair on your arm hair stand up, and you rubbed the skin to warm up. It was cold tonight. “I’m unusual,” you told him. “Most of my friends have no idea what they’re doing after graduation.”

You had reached the end of your cigarette, so you dropped it to the ground and stamped it out, the combination of the nicotine and alcohol making your head deliciously hazy. “I’m going back in.”

Harry dropped his cigarette too, putting out the bud. “Lead the way.” He swiped his ID card on the door to let you both in, and you held the door for him, the sound of Post Malone sweeping through the house. “Want another drink?”

You mentally considered how drunk you were, came to the conclusion that you could take some more, and nodded. “White claw, please.” If you laid off the jungle juice you would last a bit longer, and you weren’t particularly wanting to get wasted tonight—you wanted to see where this went.

Harry nodded and walked towards the bar, while you turned to the group of girls closest to you, who were drinking juice and chattering amongst themselves. They immediately started asking you about Harry, about what was happening, and you shrugged because you truly didn’t know. “He’s hot,” one of them, a sophomore named Cat said. “You going to go for it?”

“If the opportunity presents itself,” you replied. You weren’t going to push with Harry, the last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself in front of him. You’d follow his lead, see what he was interested in, matching his flirting and see where it went. Not to say you weren’t forward, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either. “What about you guys?”

Cat launched into an in-depth analysis of the weird flirtation she’d been having with a junior guy in Beta, how they’d hooked up once but not again, but he kept looking at her. You encouraged her to go for it if she wanted, and she grinned, perhaps just needing an extra push. All of a sudden, you felt a hand on your back, and Harry was next to you, a Black Cherry white claw in one hand, a Heineken in the other.

“If I’d know there were Heinekens I would’ve had that,” you told him, accepting your white claw.

His hair fell behind his shoulders when he tipped the beer back. “Most girls don’t like beer.”

“Well you’ve met one now.” You liked messing with him, dropping flirtations into the conversation and pushing buttons. It made him smirk at you and you loved it, the twinkle in his eyes and the pinkness of his lips.

“H.” A guy appeared behind Harry. “We’re out of vodka.”

“How are we out?” He asked, taking another sip of his beer.

The guy, a pledge from the looks of him, grimaced. “Someone took one of the bottles.”

“Fuck,” Harry said with a sigh. “Have one of the other pledges go get more and keep the receipt. Get more claws while you’re out, we’re running low.” With that, he turned back to you, exhaling sharply. The boy disappeared, sensing that was his cue.

Right as you were about to speak, you heard the opening notes of I Love It from downstairs, and you turned to the girls around you. “Downstairs,” you told them, and they all tossed back the rest of their drinks before tossing them into the trash can a few paces away. You opened the door to the basement and then looked back to Harry. “Coming?”

That made him move, following you down into the dark stairwell that smelled of stale beer and sweat. He stayed close to you, and when your foot slipped on a stair he reached out to steady you, a hand to your side that made your body warm with more than just the temperature of the room. The girls in front of you streamed into the room, screaming the lyrics to the song.

“You’re such a fucking hoe/I love it!” You joined in, laughing at the lyrics in spite of yourself, but the truth is you fucking loved the song. It was absurd and was filthy, but you liked screaming the lyrics in a room with a bunch of your friends.

You twirled around and walked into the room backward, moving your body with the beat, taunting Harry to follow you. Which he did, as if connected to you by a magnet. You could see his lips moving, the lyrics falling from his lips to match you. You stopped moving in the middle of the room and Harry’s hands found your hips. Turning in his hands, a coy smile on your face, you knew what this song was going to involve. Hips moved on their own accord, grinding hard against him. You could feel his breath on your neck, the lyrics I’m a sick fuck/I like a quick fuck/I like my dick sucked/I’ll buy you a sick truck in your ear. Hearing the words on his lips for some reason had your blood pumping, and you wanted to hear them again on a loop.

His dick was hard against your ass and your hands stretched behind you, finding his hips to hold him close. His head fell to your neck, nosing at your skin, his fingers on the bare skin at your waist clenching. Your hips moved in time with each other, his body dropping to be at the height as yours, chasing the desire that was running between you. Your head tipped back against his chest and eyes fluttered shut, letting the alcohol in your veins and the music pounding in your ears take over. All you could feel was him, the cut of his body and the strength of his arms next to you, his hips insistently rubbing against yours and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually grind on him.

The song changed, Work Out by J. Cole sounding through the speakers and you pulled away from him and turned to face him. You were going to put on a bit of a show, you decided, because why the fuck not. It was clear at this point that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, so why pretend like anything else was happening?

So when the lyrics Let me see you get/High then go low/Now, girl won't you drop that thing down to the floor? fell through the speakers you dropped to the ground, Harry’s eyes following you came back up slowly, your body just inches from his. His hands fell on your body, grabbing at your waist to keep you close, pressing his hips forward to grind right over the front of your jeans and you panted from both the heat in the room and the pleasure ripping through your body. When the chorus came again, you dropped down, and this time you ran your hands down his legs lightly as you moved, fingers dancing down and then back up the seams of his jeans.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said and you could barely hear him over the music.

His eyes met yours, searing into yours, a question passing between you. And then you were moving towards each other, an answer to the question in the way your lips met, slotted together and pulled at one another. Your hands were pulling at his shirt, grabbing at the material and the skin underneath, one of his hand holding your head close to his, the other at your waist. It was fast and messy, your lip pulling on his bottom one, before chasing him, his tongue brushing at the seam of your lips before dipping inside.

Kissing Harry was hot. It was like setting your whole body on fire with desire and you just wanted to know what the rest of him felt like because his lips were sending you to another planet. He tugged on your bottom lip with his teeth and a moan escaped you, desperation clear in your throat. You could feel bodies press around you, the notes of Fire by Louis the Child ringing through the room. When the beat dropped, you knew people were jumping, the guys doing that thing where they slammed into each other like some kind of mosh. But Harry just stayed there, pulling his lips into yours, drawing wet pants from your body. He was holding tight to you as if you were going to slip away, even though that was the last place you wanted to go.

But you decided you wanted to tease him a bit more. Not let him get away, but just…push him a bit. So you drew away, enough to where you could dance, your sorority sisters at your back—you had seen Alexis move behind you. You grinding on her, your asses touching, and you could hear her laughter, before moving against you. It was something you two always did, dancing partners since the moment you met.

“If I go down in flames/The smoke going to spell my name,” you sang.

Harry watched you, his eyes burning a line down your body, the ministrations of your hips against Alexis’s. And then he was moving towards you, his front pressed yours and his lips were at your ear. “Drink?”

You nodded, and let him pull you through the crowd and towards the stairs. People were moving down them and you pressed yourself to the wall to let them pass, before following Harry up the stairs to the main floor. “Is there anything better than that shit?” You asked him when you stood next to him, his arm loosely around your waist, holding you to him.

His gaze drifted to the bar and then back to you. “I’ve got some stuff in my room.”

You knew he lived in the house, the result of being on exec last year and having first dibs after the current exec board was placed, the hierarchy the same as in your own sorority house. “Do you have mixers?” As much as you drank, you still hated drinking most straight alcohol, especially if you were going to be sipping on it. When he nodded, you replied, “Let’s go.”

You caught the eye of Emily who was standing on the other side of the room, watching you, and you pointed upstairs to tell her where you were going. After she gave you a thumbs up, letting you know she’d check in before leaving, a silent conversation well rehearsed over the years, you followed Harry up the stairs. Other guys and girls streamed down them, coming from rooms where they were smoking or using the bathroom or drinking just like you.

“What floor are you on?” You asked when you passed the first floor, twisting to go up the second flight.

“Third,” he replied, not pausing no the stairs. “It’s quieter.”

That made sense, as you could imagine if he didn’t feel like partying one night it would be kind of hard to avoid. You followed him up, the sound of the music fading as you made your way higher into the frat house. You passed other girls on the way you exchanged hugs and promises to catch up after chapter on Monday night. Finally, you made it to the third floor, and Harry pushed open the door to a room with his name on it.

You followed him in and the first thing you noticed was how much of a boy’s room it was. Messy comforter, clothes on the floor, alcohol bottles lining the window sill, the frat’s flag above his bed. Some posters and photos littered the opposite wall, a single framed photo of what looked like his family on his dresser, along with some random items like cologne and a brush and hair ties. A pair of athletic shoes and boots were shoved into one corner, and a tub of protein powder sat on top of his mini-fridge, along with a stack of solo cups. On his desk was a bong and a couple of lighters, his computer sitting next to it on a charger. The dorm room was narrow, most of it taken up with a double bed that you were a bit confused by, since most rooms just had a single.

“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess,” he said, shutting the door behind you. If you focused on it, you could hear nerves in his voice, a low laugh in the back of his throat as he surveyed his room. “Didn’t expect to have people up here.”

“It’s fine,” you told him, moving into the middle of the room to get out of the doorway, taking in the space.

“Uh, I’ve got Tito’s, Jack, some gin one of the guys got me.”

It drew you back to the whole reason you were in his room. He was standing next to his mini-fridge, a solo cup in his hand as he looked at you. “What mixers do you have?”

“Coke, juice, and tonic,” he replied. “Sorry, it’s not much.”

You shook your head. “Tito’s and tonic,” you told him. Usually you would’ve been all over the Jack and coke option, but considering how much you’d already drank the last thing you needed was to mix clear and dark liquors.

You watched him pour, leaning against his desk as you waited. He handed you the cup, asking you to try it and tell him if it was too strong. You took a sip and it was strong, but not too much. Then, he made a whiskey and coke you were jealous of, and the two of you stood in his room, not quite sure what to do. You didn’t want to go back down the party, the feeling of fresh air—even though it smelled vaguely like college boy, a mixture of sweat and cologne that you keenly recognized—feeling good on your skin.

“Want to listen to some music?” He asked, moving towards you. There was a bluetooth speaker on his desk, you realized, and shifted away so he could get at his computer.

You decided to sit on the bed, thighs resting on the soft comforter. “Sure.” You pulled your cigarettes and lighter from your back pocket, before looking back at him.

He fiddled with the speaker, the sound of it connecting ricocheting in the small room, before clicking keys to wake up his computer. “Any preferences?”

“I’m good with whatever,” you replied. “I like pretty much everything.” It was true, you had everything from country to Top 40s and rap on your Spotify, a variety of playlists to fit the mood.

He pulled on his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger as he perused his Spotify and you tried not to focus on the sight. Low music began to sound in the room and you immediately recognized the beginning notes of Let Her Go by 6LACK, a smile drifting onto your face. He must have noticed, because he turned around, his cup in his hand. “You like 6LACK?”

“More like obsessed,” you replied and he chuckled.

He sat on the edge of the desk, his knees falling open, his back slumped a bit. “I don’t know a single girl who even knows who he is.”

You took a sip of your drink before replying, resting your body back on one hand. “They must not have good music taste, then.”

Harry gave you a small smile, an edge of playfulness to it. “Where’s home for you?”

“Denver,” you responded. “You?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

“Where’s that?”

He brushed a hand through his hair, the long locks slipping between his fingers and you couldn’t help but wish you were the one doing it. “South of Manchester. It’s a small town, lots of fields and shit like that.”

You’d never been to England so you had no idea of where Manchester was, but you didn’t ask. “Do you like it?”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t want to like, move back or anything. But it’s a good place to go home to.”

Denver felt the same way to you—it was home, but it wasn’t a place you saw a future in. You’d go where law school took you, and then the work, wherever you could make the biggest impact. “Where do you want to go?”

The solo cup hung in his hands, and he twirled it a bit, the rim of the cup pressed between his fingers. “LA, maybe. New York. Not sure, really. London, most likely, unless I can get a job and someone to sponsor my Visa so I can stay.”

“Do you like the states?” You knew you were asking a lot of questions, but you’d never had a conversation like this with him and you were curious. Curious about him, about who he was, underneath all the frat shit that he loved so much.

“It’s different than home,” he replied, and you understood what he meant. “I don’t think I’ll want to be here forever, but it’s good for right now. Got friends here now.”

You took another sip of your drink, and then pushed yourself up, the need to pee suddenly overtaking your body. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the hall. Make sure you slam on the door before locking it—it got fucked up during homecoming and hasn’t been the same ever since.”

You nodded and took your cup with you, four years of college ingraining some lessons into your bones. Down the hall, you found a blond wood door and a doorknob that was barely attached to the door. You pushed it open and shut it quickly, shoving against it with your shoulder so that you could flip the lock. Inside, you wondered for the millionth time why boys were in capable from having a properly stocked bathroom. Head & Shoulders shampoo littered the floor of the shower, a flimsy shower curtain that had come free from a couple of the rings. You squatted to pee, grabbing the toilet paper roll that sat on top of the toilet, no one even bothering to properly put it away.

As you peed, you scrolled through your phone. Mallory had texted saying she was going bar hopping with some of her friends and you told her to text you if she needed anything and a heart, before checking her on Find My Friends to see she was, in fact at a bar. Then you texted your group chat with Emily and Alexis and Maya, who had asked how you were doing. You told them you were with Harry and most likely going to be here for a while, which got excited responses and Alexis sent the eggplant emoji, which made you snort. They told you to text you if you ended up staying the night so they could keep track of where you were, which you agree to do.

When you went to wash your hands, you rolled your eyes because of course they couldn’t even buy hand soap. You went to the shower and found a bottle of body wash, and squirted some into your hands before going back to the sink, rinsing them off. Then you looked at your face in the mirror, eyeliner and mascara still in tact, but your hair was a disaster. You pulled the bun free and let your hair tumble down your back, running through it with your fingers to calm the strands that were askew.

Standing the mirror, you had the opportunity to consider your choices. Did you want to hook up with Harry? Yes. That was a clear answer, despite your alcohol-hazed mind. Did he want to? Most likely—every indication had pointed towards yes. So your mind was made up as you pulled the door open and made your way back to his room, your phone tucked into your jeans and solo cup in your hand.

“You guys really need soap.”

He was still sitting on the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone and sipping on his drink when you came into the room. At the sight of you, he put his phone down. “I know—it’s fucking disgusting. I have my own, though. Sorry for not sharing.”

You set your cup on his dresser, deciding you were done, and moved towards him. “It’s fine. I made do.” His eyes trailed down your front, the sexual tension thick in the room. When he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth and chewed on it, you decided fuck it you were done waiting.

You crossed the space between the two of you in second, slotting yourself between his knees. His hands found your waist immediately, his solo cup moving to rest on the table once your body was pressed to his. Without pausing, you pressed your lips to his, reconnecting them in a fire—you needed him, you wanted him, you craved his hands on your skin. Now that you were alone, it was like you couldn’t hold yourself together and neither could he. His hands moved up and down your back, tugging you into his chest as your hands curled in his long hair. Lips fought for dominance, teeth tugging and tongues pressing for more. When he licked into your mouth a wet moan left your lips and you pressed into the crotch of his pants without even meaning to.

6LACK was still flowing through the speaker, and the smooth RnB just adding to the desire rolling through your body. When his lips dropped to your neck, sucking and biting on your skin, a desperate, filthy noise fell from your mouth and you couldn’t help but smile when Harry grunted into you. “I—fuck,” he mumbled, squeezing at your hips.

Suddenly your clothes were too warm, burning against your skin. You leaned back and pulled at the hem of your tank top, pulling it up over your head and letting it fall to the floor. Harry’s eyes went wide, blown out irises from alcohol and desire criss-crossing over your body. “You can touch me,” you said, confidence coursing through your veins and just desperate for him to do something.

He didn’t hesitate, pulling you back into him and attaching his mouth to the swell of your breast, right above the lace of your bra. Hot breath on your skin had you keening into him, back arching up into his mouth, your fingers tugging into his hair. You loved his hair, having something to hold onto and anchor yourself, and from the pleased hums he liked it too. His hands fumbled with your bra clasp, and when he got it free and pulled the material away, he pulled your nipple into his mouth and you audibly sighed. When he sucked on it, then laved over it with his tongue you couldn’t help but buck into him. You were putty in his arms and he had barely done anything.

Your hands pulled at his shirt, the desire to see his skin overwhelming you. He didn’t make you wait, helping you tug it over his head, and let it drop to the floor. Black ink scattered across his skin, words and images that made a million questions swirl in your mind. The G on his shoulder, the ship on his bicep, the name Jackson scrawled above a rose, the swallows across his collarbones and a butterfly on his stomach. He sat there, chest heaving as he caught his breath and your fingers brushed his skin, curiosity getting the better of you.

“Y/N,” he rasped, “bed?”

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with ease, and he was backing you into it immediately, hands in your hair and lips on yours. Your bare chests touching sent you into overdrive, the brush of your nipples on his warm skin, a sheen of sweat covering both of you from dancing all night.

The comforter was plush underneath your back as you scrambled up the length of his bed, his body following yours immediately. Your legs fell apart so he could fit between you, and when he did, his dick rested right against your clothed clit and it made you gasp. “Feel good?” He mumbled, the words a haze in your ears as he plucked your lips between his.

All you could do was buck up, your knees finding either side of him. You wanted to be on top, to be in control. You wanted to grind on him properly, after waiting for so long. With a hand at his chest, you pushed slightly, enough for him to move back. He must have understood what you wanted because he flopped onto the bed next to you, one hand on either of your thighs and you mounted him, your ass sitting on the top of his thighs.

When you moved your center over his dick, both of you groaned, deep and drawn out, your head thrown back in pleasure. It was bliss, after so much waiting, to finally be able to do this, his hands crawling from your thighs to your hips to hold you in place, exactly where he wanted you. You put your hands on his chest to hold yourself up, and let your hips find a sinful rhythm, one that was making pleasure curl in your stomach. Pants left your mouth, matched by Harry, who was watching you as if you were a fucking art exhibit, eyes trying to take in every inch of you. Fingernails curled into his skin, red marks that you expected to be there tomorrow, when he nudged at your clit, and you rubbed that spot a few more times, his name falling from your lips in a beg. “Harry.”

That had him moving, pulling your lips down to his so he could kiss you again, his fingers cradling the back of your head. It was just rough enough where you were scrambling to catch up and it felt good, that this was consuming every part of your brain. You rolled your hips again, your hands pressing into the pillow under his head. Then, you felt his thighs agains your ass, and he was pushing up into you, making him snugly flush against you, the only thing between you two being your clothes.

Which you wanted off, and wanted off now. You moved back, crawling between his legs, and his eyes followed you, panting as he watched you pop the button on his pants. He lifted his hips to help you and you tugged the tight skinny jeans that showed every inch of his thickness underneath them down his legs. Then, you pulled on his briefs, and he was bare in front of you, exactly as you wanted him. Your jeans were constricting your movement so you turned tot he side, pulling the denim off of your body so you were left in your underwear.

Then you were on him again, but this time, it was your hand on his dick, fingers running up the length of him.

“Fuck,” he said, voice husky in your ears. He was gorgeous underneath you, desperation making his eyebrows crease, his long hair a mess on the pillow. Why had you waited so long to act on this desire? You suddenly couldn’t remember.

He watched you spit onto his most sensitive part, and then slide your hand over him, spreading the moisture. He hissed at the feeling and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long here—he was already hard, his tip red and throbbing. The fact that you had him this turned on and you’d barely done anything made your ego soar, to be honest. You pumped him three times before licking up the underside of him, his hands curling in the comforter, a stream of curses falling from his lips.

When you took him into your mouth, a low, rough grunt filled the room and you smiled. You hollowed your cheeks and immediately took him all the way into your mouth, resisting the urge to gag when he hit the back of your throat. “Shit,” he rasped. “You—shit.”

You’d done what you were about to give him just a handful of times before, only with people who you knew you would feel pleasure from too when they did it, and trusted. And Harry fit both of those categories, because he could fucking smile and you’d want to fuck him. So you grabbed his hand and placed it on the back of your head, before taking him all the way to the back of your throat. Your mouth was full of him and it felt so good.

“Want me to fuck your mouth?” His eyes were glimmering in the light, completely focused on you. You were happy you had left the lights on, because it meant you could every inch of him, every reaction you drew from him.

In response, you licked at his tip, hoping he knew that meant yes.

He seemed to, because he curled his fingers into your hair and pushed his hips up, his tip hitting your throat immediately. You groaned around his dick and he cursed at the vibrations. Then, he kept his hips on the bed and instead pulled you up and down him, fucking your mouth just as you had wanted. You couldn’t do much from this position, so you focused on inhaling through your nose and running your hands over his skin, scratching at the butterfly on his torso. Leaving reminders of this night, of you, on his body.

“Shit,” he mumbled, pulling you off. “I—I have to stop. But, shit, you feel so good, babe.”

The pet name made you smile, sitting back on your heels to wipe at your mouth, the taste of his salty precum still on your tongue. “Do you have a condom?” You asked, because all that you had done had left you more than ready—you needed him inside of you.

Harry’s eyes went wide and he scrambled up. “Fuck,” he exhaled, grabbing at his desk drawer and pulling it open. Watching him look through his drawers completely naked was, you had to admit, a bit amusing, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. He wrenched another drawer open, tossing the contents about as he looked. Then he sighed, and looked back at you. “I’m out.”

“Go find one,” you told him, leaning back against the wall, letting your knees drop open to show your underwear. You could feel the wet spot on them and you knew he saw it too. “I’ll wait here.”

“Yeah, okay, I’ll—yeah I’ll find one.” He pulled on his jeans, not even bothering with his briefs, eyes flickering to you every once and a while. “Shit, I’ll—I’ll be back.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how flustered he was, pushing open his door and letting it slam shut behind him. Through the door you could hear him knocking on the door next to his, some muffled words, and then him knocking again. He was going fucking door to door looking for a condom, you realized with amusement. Then, the patter of feet on the stairs, and you knew he was going downstairs, that no one else was in their rooms.

While you waited, you grabbed your phone and scrolled through it. Caught up on texts, liked shit on Instagram, checked Snapchat even though you barely used the app. Most people were at bars, as far as you could tell, but it looked like they’d set back up pong downstairs according to Emily’s story.

All of a sudden, feet pounded on the stairs and you knew it was Harry. You pushed your phone back onto the desk, and when the door opened, he was standing there holding probably ten condoms. “How many did you get?”

He looked down at the wad in his hand and visibly blushed. “I—I thought I’d re-stock.”

You let it slide, even though you knew exactly why he got so many. He was hoping you’d have a couple rounds, and you were not opposed to the idea. “Come here,” you said, and let your legs fall back open.

He was on you in second, his pants kicked down his legs as he moved and you were surprised he didn’t trip. Hands found your skin and he pushed you up the bed, this time he was the one hovering over you, lips drawing eager mewls from you. You pressed your hips into his unclothed erection and he cursed, a grimace crossing his face that you knew was from him restraining himself. “Can I take these off?” He asked, fingers pulling at your underwear.

“Please,” you replied and that made him smile at you. He peeled them down your legs, tossing them to the ground, a forgotten memory. Then he brushed a finger over your slit and you gasped, cool touch sending waves of pleasure through you. “Need you.” The two words made his head snap up from where he was looking at your pussy, eyes connecting with yours.

“I was going to go down on you,” he said, and although the thought was tantalizing, you needed him inside of you.

You shook your head. “Later.”

Harry wasn’t complaining. He grabbed one of the condoms from his desk and ripped it open, rolling it down his dick with a concentrated gaze. Then, he crawled up your body, reconnecting your lips, and you both sighed at the feeling of his dick rolling against your center. “Okay?” He asked, pulling away just a hair to check in.

“Please,” you begged, and that had him moving immediately.

He tugged one of your legs around his waist, and then he gripped his dick, brushing his tip to your slit once, twice, three times. On the third time, though, he pressed in, and your wetness accepted him immediately, allowing him to push in about halfway before he stopped.

It burned a bit—mainly just from his size, which was bigger than most other guys you’d been with. You hands scrambled across his chest, grabbing at his skin, struggling to get your breathing under control. “You’re big,” you said, unable to stop the words that fell from your lips.

A cocky smile drifted over his face and you mentally kicked yourself for adding to his ego. “Can I move?” He asked though and you nodded. His head bobbed down, and you realized he was watching where you two were connected as he pulled back and then pushed in all the way. A choked moan left your mouth and a similar one sounded from Harry’s, although his had a string of curses attached. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he rasped, hands adjusting so they were next to your head, his face above yours. “Fuck.”

You were about to tell him to move when he did it on his own accord, pulling out and back into you, the impact making your body shift on the comforter. There was a very real possibility of you having sore legs tomorrow, but you really didn’t give a fuck because he felt so good. “Holy shit,” you babbled, those words the only ones you could find as he thrusted in and out of you, finding a rhythm that made you both pant with pleasure.

Sounds drifted out of you without you even realizing, something that always happened when you had drunk sex. You couldn’t control yourself as much, unable to process how loud you were being, what you were saying. Looking back you couldn’t even remember exactly what you had said, but you knew it was a mess of curses and his name and God and just pants and mewls that were feeding Harry like a fucking three course meal.

He loved your sounds, used them to figure out what you liked, where to move and shift. You could tell because when you’d let out a sharp gasp he’d say, “Yeah, there? That’s the spot?” and drive in and out of you, hitting your g-spot perfectly with every move of his hips. Your hands were clutching at his hair as he thrusted into you, your ankles hooked around his lower back, and your body was desperate for release.

But you could also tell he was not going to last. His eyes were heavy, eyelids drawing shut with pleasure, fingers curling in the pillow next to you. Shoulders tensing and abdomen tight as he swiveled his hips, a broken moan falling between you. “Close,” he finally said, and dropped down to his elbows, so his face hovered above yours, only a hair away. “You feel so good, shit, oh my god—how do you feel so good?” His words were broken and that made them even better, that he had no control over what he was saying.

“Want you to come,” you babbled, “want to feel it, come on Harry, come for me, please, I need it.”

“Holy fuck—“ that had him snapping into you, hips slapping against yours, the sound of skin on skin overpowering the music that still played in the background. You gripped his shoulders when his head hung in the crook of your shoulder, and you knew he was about to come.

So you said one more thing. “I need you to come, Harry, please.” The words came out as a beg, exactly as you intended. His hips were stuttering immediately, curses falling between you like a broken record, repeating over and over again as he shot into the condom. He smattered kisses on your shoulder as he collapsed into you, sweat sticking to your skin.

He laid there for a second, panting, and you didn’t mind, even though you desperately needed to come. Perhaps it was how you clamped down on him, or you shifted your hips to feel slightly more of him, but Harry seemed to figure out what you needed. He lifted his head, took one look at you, and then pulled out, ripping off the condom and tossing it into his trash before crawling down your legs.

When his tongue licked your slit, you mewled his name, your hands moving into his hair immediately. You tugged and pulled on it as he licked over you, drawing circles that pulled desire from your flesh. And then he went inside, darting his deftly skilled tongue into you and practically thrusting it into you. His thumb brushed across your nub and you let our a shuddering moan, bucking up into his face. You were close—insanely close—the combination of his tongue inside of you and the thumb on your nub drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Harry,” you rasped, voice broken from panting. “I’m close.”

He seemed double his effort, tongue moving in and out of you at double time, his thumb brushing a brutal pace over you. You were twisting in his arms, hips bucking, curses leaving your lips. And when he pulled his thumb away and sucked on your clit, that’s when you came, in a mess of his name and broken gasps, choking on air. Your fingers curled tightly in his hair, anchoring his face to your center as you came, bucking up into him. He didn’t mind though, he just held your hips and took it, licking at you to draw out all of your aftershocks. Your eyes squeezed shut and your mind was a mess, swirling without the ability to grasp onto a single thread of thought, just a mess under his lips.

When you finally regained the ability to breathe, you pulled your hands from his hair and he sat up. You watched in awe as he licked his lips, gathering your juice, and swallowed them, a smile on his face. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re really good at that?”

He gave you a cocky expression and then flopped down next to you. “They have, in fact.”

“Good. I’d be concerned about the other girls if they hadn’t.”

He laughed, and then pulled you into his body. You were surprised at his desire to cuddle, but you weren’t mad. “You can stay if you want. There’s people downstairs still and it’s cold out.”

You propped your head up on his shoulder. “There’s also all those condoms.”

“That’s true. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”

You trailed your fingers up his torso. “Might have to just stay the whole weekend if we’re trying to use them all.”

His eyebrows quirked, but he wasn’t mad at the prospect. “Wanna be my study break for the weekend?”

You smirked, leaning up to quickly peck his lips. “As long as you’re mine.”

He hauled your body on top of his and curled his fingers into your hair. “We’ll get your shit in the morning, then.”

“It’s a deal.” You kissed him, lips slotting against one another, slower and less hurried than before, but that same undercurrent of desire stringing between you two. You were already grinding into him, hips brushing over his as you moved.

Suddenly, a pounding sound came from the door, and you froze. “Fuck off!” Harry called, pulling the comforter that had ended up at the bottom of the bed over the two of you.

“Fuck—sorry—I need a condom, man.” The words were muffled, but you heard them all the same.

Harry snorted, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go ask Nick,” he replied, “and leave me the fuck alone.” His hands grabbed at you, kneading into your ass, and you licked at his nipple.

It was going to be a long weekend.

SEND ME CONCEPTS ABOUT Y/N AND HARRY!

#frat boy harry #frat boy au #frat boy fan fiction #Harry Styles #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing

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physicalturian · 4 years ago

Text

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 1

Summary : Being overwhelmed with work is exhausting. To release some of that stress, you make your way on a website to talk to strangers. One of them strike your interest and while the conversation flows you find yourself being dommed online. An unusual occurrence you might get a liking to. The thrill of letting someone take the control when too much weight is on your shoulders, no strings attached. Unless...

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5034 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Masturbation / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Vaginal fingering... If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

. . . . .

Boredom makes you do crazy things. Lack of free time too, mix them together and you end up stumbling on a website, talking to strangers from all across the world.

With my work done, it was already pretty late, but I deserved some distraction for working so hard. I did not really care how late it was, I wanted to relax and have some fun, no matter the kind of fun.

Arriving on the home page, I stared at it “Clean chat or NSFW chat? Well…” I mumbled to myself, clicking on the NSFW tab, I had to find a name now. It had to be explicit enough so that the person would know what I want right? Yeah, but what do I want? Huffing, I typed down “Entertain me” Before entering and getting matched with a random person.

They did not stay long, and their names were surprising to say the least. It took me a lot of time to match with someone that did not have a weird name, and did not leave the minute they got matched with me. I almost gave up too. Now, I was not one to kink shame, but neither was I into anthro dogs and role playing as people’s daughter.

But funny enough, when they had a slightly normal name. They’d be the most boring person ever, I had to laugh every time people who had “dom” in their name, were the least charismatic people I’d ever met. I had to give it a thought and wonder, were they dom or did they just top their whole life?

Huffing, I pressed the escape key on my keyboard once more to refresh the conversation and leaned back on my pillows. “At this point, I should just go to sleep.” I pondered out loud, my eyes riveted on the loading screen. I had probably skipped everybody on this website, and now they couldn’t give me anything. When I was about to leave, I was matched with someone named “A real doctor”.

I couldn’t help the chuckled that escaped my lips as I leaned forward and wrote down.

Entertain me: Now, are you really a doctor? Or do you want to get people to be horny over you?

Entertain me: ah, wait, also, how old are you? I’m 23, she/her.

A real doctor: There is no reason for me to lie, I don’t even need to tell them I’m a doctor to have them horny. People are always horny on this website.

A real doctor: 29, he/him. How long have you been looking to be entertained?

Laughing I shook my head, I was surprised to meet someone who was 29 when most people I’d met until now were 18 or 19. I skipped them too. But I was definitely relieved, and it showed in my reply.

Entertain me: thank god you’re 29, I was afraid I was going to catch a case! So many young people here, it’s frightening.

A real doctor: Are you telling me I’m old?

Entertain me: no no no, definitely not, no you’re the perfect age don’t worry. But since you’re asking so kindly, I’ve been here for about two hours and I have not had a single one good conversation.

A real doctor: Good, then I’m here to change that. What kind of entertainment are you looking for?

I stared at my screen for a second, for some reason I was starting to feel excited. His question was a good one, and valid one too, and now I had to give him an adequate answer. Running my hands over my face, I was going to type back when he sent something.

A real doctor: I guess, since we’re both on the NSFW chat the question is: what are your kinks? Your limits, perhaps?

I don’t know why I answered so quickly, but my fingers did the talking.

Entertain me: Hey maybe I should ask you that, maybe I want to dom you. How about that? You’d be surprised with how versatile I am.

A real doctor: You’re cute, but I don’t recall mentioning domming. Quite the lapsus you did there, I want to play a game with you but to do so you’ll have to tell me your kinks and your limits, dear.

Why did I blush? A stranger called me dear, and I was feeling funny inside. For the first time tonight, someone was taking the reins and I kind of enjoyed it a lot. With my hands shaking slightly in excitment, I typed,

Entertain me: I suppose you make a fair point…

A real doctor: Of course, I do, now do tell me.

Entertain me: right away, sir.

I said half-jokingly, but that did not go through with the text. If anything, it fueled a certain fire, and perhaps I’ll admit I was testing the waters.

A real doctor: Already catching on I see, good girl.

Why was that so hot? My breath hitched and I simply looked at those words a few seconds, taking them in. Sighing, I leaned towards the left and open the drawer of my bed table, grabbing my toy. What am I doing… I thought. Putting the vibrator next to me, I took my time to reply.

Entertain me: first of all, that’s kind of hot and you are definitely entertaining me.

A real doctor: I barely started, good to know you’re already hooked.

Entertain me: oh fuck off, it’s just the charisma. You got the pzazz, that’s all.

A real doctor: Check the attitude, and give me an answer.

Gulping, I typed back, weighing my words this time.

Entertain me: Well, avoid degradation because that’s not my cup of tea but… I suppose, while some of those might be hard through a screen… Body worship is cool, very cool… The entire idea of BDSM is lovely, I like praising, spanking, public stuff has some appeal and…

I didn’t write the last one, feeling like it was too much. Should I say that? It sounds to fucking submissive. Which is my role right now, clearly, so I should just go for it. Sighing, I read his message and groaned, writing back.

A real doctor: Go ahead. And? I want clear answers and you’re not done yet.

Entertain me: I like to please my partner, is that a kink?

A real doctor: A service sub? How cute. I’ll definitely make good use of that. Any limits?

Entertain me: I’m never showing my face, but pics are okay. I mean, if you’d like some of course. Consent and all that. I’m willing to try other stuff if we take things slow, too!

Oh god, that sounded desperate. I don’t even know what he looks like and I’m telling him all of my deepest tastes. “Well, that’s the idea, right? I’ll never meet him, but I can have some fun, right? It’s all about having some fun, both of us. We both get off, and then never talk again.” I whispered to myself, looking up at the time. Noticing it was already 2 am, I was going to leave but I couldn’t find the strength to do so and waited for the man’s reply.

A real doctor: Very well, I love the eagerness. I’ll be taking notes of those, now you’re curious about the game, aren’t you?

Entertain me: Don’t flatter yourself, if it’s some weird shit I’ll just leave. It really all depends on what’s your game. And please, don’t tell me it’s truth or dare.

A real doctor: Give me some credits, I’m not a teenage boy.

A real doctor: You’ll like it.

A real doctor: The game is this, I tell you what to do, and you do it.

Entertain me: okay…

A real doctor: Interested?

Entertain me: I’ll need more details, but I haven’t left, have I?

A real doctor: You haven’t indeed. Good girl, see you want to be ordered around. It’ll be my pleasure.

A real doctor: Your hands off your keyboard, I’ll be guiding you. All you’ll have to do, is read me. Is that alright?

I took in his words for a moment. Was I really going to let him tell me what to do? My own voice resonated in my head, telling him that was the fun of it, it was hot. It was exciting, and different, nothing bad could happen.

Entertain me: Would it be interesting to tell you I have a vibrator next to me right now, sir?

I facepalmed behind my screen, maybe that wasn’t his shit. Maybe he just wanted me to finger myself or something, maybe I fucked it all up and now I was going to go to bed horny and sad. My self-depreciation dissipated when I saw his reply.

A real doctor: It’s interesting, speeds?

Entertain me: Five, sir.

A real doctor: Hands off the keyboard, lay on your back, let’s start.

And I did. With the laptop right next to me, I laid on back and waited for his words, following each of his instruction. Each in a separate message, fired like bullets.

If you’re dressed, I want you to get completely naked. Undress slowly. Feel yourself. Your hands caressing each of your curves. Brushing over your breasts. Stop there. Pinch your nipples, hard and tug. Feel the sting. The warmth that follows. Spread your legs wide. Let one hand travel between them. Slowly start playing with yourself. Your fingers slowly spreading your folds. Rubbing yourself for me. You’re enjoying this, you like being ordered around. You want to be played with, you’re doing exactly as I’m telling you, like a good girl.

I arched my back, a hand still on my breast while brushing my finger against my clit. I was burning up, my head digging inside the pillow, it felt strange. He was not wrong, and I could feel my arousing growing and growing.

A real doctor: Want to continue? Are we still good, dear?

Groaning I turned on the side and wrote with one hand.

Entertain me: yes, sir.

A real doctor: Good. Back on your back, take your toy.

Grabbing it, I waited for the next instruction, my hand having left my clit. It was pulsing, I never thought this would have so much effect but I was starting to get angsty.

Brush it between your folds. Slowly. Get it wet for me. Good, like that. Keep at it a while. Your free hand, I want it caressing your body. Feel every sensation. Feel every touch, every brush.

I let out a huff and wrote him, while still brushing the tip of my toy between my folds. I was starting to breathe heavily, feeling needy.

Entertain me: it’s cold here, goosebumps.

A real doctor: Imagine my warm hands traveling your body.

Entertain me: fuck, can I fuck myself? Please sir

A real doctor: Already? No, no. Not just yet, let’s take our time.

Groaning, I let my head hit the pillow and considered turning on the vibrator but thought against it. He had not told me to yet, I should wait, make it more fun. But fuck, I needed it.

Let’s start slowly. You asked nicely, like a good girl. And since you’ve been listening until now… Put it in, speed one. But don’t fuck yourself. Leave it there. Legs spread wide. Now that your hands are free, bring them back to your chest. Give yourself firm, hard, gropes. Feel the vibrations inside you. Slide your hands down your torso, to your belly and gently brush your hands on your inner thighs. Feel the texture, your cold fingers on your burning skin. I want you to rub your clit, take a deep breath and start playing with it. Feel the electricity coursing.

See yourself, enjoying the idea of being commanded. Look at yourself, look down at your hands. See yourself masturbating for me. Feel your toy stretching you, filling you up. Now start pumping in and out. But not too hard. That’s it, good girl. Slowly, very slowly. It’s painfully slow, isn’t it? Keep doing good, and we’ll speed things up.

I whined and brought a hand to my mouth, muffling the noises escaping it. My roommates were probably sleeping, I had to keep it quiet. I hate how slow paced it was, but I loved how thrilling it was to do this. I bucked my hips to try to meet the toy as I pulled it out to pull it back in, slowly.

Look at you. Shoving a dildo inside you. Just because I told you so. I blushed and let out a whimper. You’re actually enjoying yourself. You are being entertained, just as you asked. I can almost see the smile on your face. Tell me, is my good girl desperate yet?

Bringing my hands to my hair, I got the wild strands of hair out of my face and wrote back. My face was on fire, but no one would know. What happened here was between this stranger and I, no one would know how I was being guided to fuck myself by a total stranger.

Entertain me: sir… can I up the speed?

A real doctor: Very cute, you haven’t answered, dear.

Entertain me: please…

Entertain me: sir.

A real doctor: Alright, dear. You can put it at 2.

A real doctor: But you stop the thrusting, I want you to keep it deep inside you. Close your legs and feel the vibrations, when you think you’re close, you stop. Understood?

Entertain me: yes sir!!

A real doctor: How eager, lovely. Hands off now.

Huffing, I did as he asked and upped the speed. A giggle escaped my lips before my breath caught in my throat and I could feel everything strongly, with how deep it was. I closed my eyes for a moment, missing some of the messages but opened them again, and read everything while feeling the sensations inside me.

Angle it right. That’s right. Turn the speed one notch now. It should be at three, if you’ve been following right. See your face, you’re enjoying this. How cute, I can only imagine the sinful sounds leaving that pretty mouth of yours. It can probably do a lot more than moan. It can whimper. As it’s being fucked. As you’re being fucked. Bring your fingers inside your mouth and suck on it. That’s it, suck it. Push the toy deeper inside you. You can speed up the pace. Not too wild.

“Fuck” I breathed out, my fingers hooked in my mouth as I met each of thrusts. I wanted to go faster, I wanted to do as I pleased and find a quick relief. I knew myself; I knew what to do but there was this thrill in giving the control to this stranger. My walls were clenched around the toy, I could feel it against my walls even more at each thrust. I desperately grabbed my blanket, almost making my laptop tumble off my bed and muffled my voice while biting down the fabric.

I was surprised when a whine came out of my mouth, I put my hand over my muffled mouth to, hopefully, muffle it better.

A real doctor: You’ve been good. Such a good girl, haven’t you?

I sighed and leaned on my side, typing very slowly. My thrusts, slowing down as my focus was on the conversation.

Entertain me: Yes sir, I’m so good

A real doctor: Good. Then I want you to grab the base of your toy and…

A real doctor: Fuck your brains out, go wild. While you’re at it, speed at 4.

My arms were screaming for me to stop, it had been so long. But I felt the knot in my stomach grow in excitement and did exactly as he had asked. The pleasure was so good, it was so good. I had been waiting for this since we had started. One hand was gripping the base of the vibrator tight, while the other was rubbing my clit. My eyes rolled back a few times when it touched the right spot, but then I had to thrust more and lost it. I hated it but at the same time, I loved the mix of pain and pleasure of the fast and deep thrusts.

Here we go. Hard, and fast. I want you to go wild. Let yourself go. Fuck your hole good. Groan, squirm, moan, plead for more. I’m sure you’re sore, but you’re doing so great. Such a good girl, doing exactly as you’re told. Keep going, don’t stop. Feel your toy stretching you out. You’re so wet, you can probably hear it, right? God, such a good girl. Spread your legs wide and keep going, good. Good. Now, read well, dear.

I want you to go to the last speed, and keep your toy deep like last time. Don’t move it. Cross your legs and keep it there. I’ll count to 20, you’ll keep it there until I’m done. Are we good? Don’t answer, just follow my instruction. Come on, last speed. And here we go. That’s it dear. Good. Let’s start.

Then he started sending a message for each number starting from 1. I watched the screen with half-lidded eyes, feeling the toy vibrating inside me, my hand starting to go numb from the said vibrations. My thighs were a bit sore, but I ignored it and moved the toy slightly to angle it only to find the right spot, I closed my eyes and focused on the sensation, only peeking to see the count was at 13. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My thighs were closed around my hand so hard, it hurt a bit but I was getting close.

That’s it, what a view. Fucked out, exhausted. But you’re not done yet. Pick up the pace now, thrust and shove, hold it there. And again. And again. Hit that sweet spot. That’s it. Good girl, so obedient. Feel the soreness between your legs. Feel your clit throbbing. Feel yourself getting closer. Just from being told what to do? Pay attention to the throbbing. Fuck yourself hard a minute again. Then keep it there. That’s it, yes. I’m sure you must be quite the sight. I want you to be noisy. To be loud. Get wild. Buck your hips against the toy. That’s it. So obedient.

My legs tensed the moment the knot inside my stomach reached its peak. I let out a high-pitched breath inside the blanket and let my head fall back on the pillow. I hadn’t realized I had contracted my whole body, and let out a chuckle at the realization. Slowly, I turned back to the screen, moving my tired arms to type back.

Entertain me: I am good, exhausted, and I came, sir.

I laid back on the pillow with another sigh. What time is it? How long did this take? I should probably get up and get cleaned but I’m too lazy right now.

A real doctor: Good.

I saw him type but typed my question faster.

Entertain me: But it’s weird, you didn’t get to get off. Do you need anything? I could send you pictures if you want, I feel kind of bad that you just… helped me out and I did not do anything.

A real doctor: Oh, you did plenty. I get off on knowing you did as I instructed. And you did, didn’t you?

Entertain me: Yes, of course. Yeah, it was hot… And I enjoyed it, yes.

A real doctor: Is that so? Anything else you’d like to share? I’ve never had such obedient girl. You are very interesting.

Entertain me: Come on, it’s just in this setting that I’m like that. I’m very feisty in real life, I was just wondering what it’d feel like to let go of the control for once, I guess.

Entertain me: But if you need more feedbacks… I hated/loved how long you took to up the speed, and I am genuinely physically drained haha. But in a good way! A very good way.

A real doctor: Let’s talk more once you’ve hydrated. Get some water, and if you can, get cleaned up. I’ll be right here, alright?

Entertain me: right, right. Brb.

Moving the laptop on my pillow while I sat up, I wrapped my toy with the towel that I had set under myself. When my feet met the ground and I balanced myself, I felt my legs wobbling a bit then made my way to the bathroom silently. I turned on the sink and let the water flow until it was warm and cleaned my toy before cleaning myself and getting changed.

I made a detour by the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and a sandwich before going back to my bed and sitting down, tailor-style, with my laptop in front of me. There were a few new messages from the doctor, so I put down my food and was ready to reply.

A real doctor: If you’re willing, I would like to see a picture of your body to check if you’re good.

A real doctor: Now this website does not allow it, but if you have any media in mind, I’m all ears.

Entertain me: Yeah, sure, yep. I don’t have any bruises or anything, but if you’re that worried yeah! Maybe Discord? You’re a doctor, I feel like you don’t have discord.

A real doctor: I don’t know if you’re bratty, or if you are being an idiot on purpose.

Entertain me: omg none? I was voicing my train of thought!

A real doctor: Right. HandSurgeon#4766

Entertain me: Funny name, don’t judge mine. It’s my personal discord, so no sexy pic just, well you’ll see.

Going to the friend list, I pasted the username in the search bar and added him. I was added back very fast and bided him good night on the website once I was sure it was him on discord. I made sure to save the conversation, just in case… Maybe for later use, if I felt bored.

HandSurgeon: I don’t even know what’s your profile picture, but I’m not going to mention it again.

Edelweiss: It’s a tardigrade, come on. It’s fun, a bit, right?

Edelweiss: Anyway, let me take that nude for you sir 😉

HandSurgeon: Don’t call it that, it’s to check if you didn’t go too crazy.

Edelweiss: That’s what they say, then they ask for more

I had to strip down naked once more to take the picture before getting dressed back up, it was getting late but I was still buzzing with energy. I probably won’t talk about this with my roommates, but if they asked why I was up so late I’d have to find an excuse. Telling them I was working would probably work, but then I’d get yelled at for not taking care of myself and having the worse sleep schedule.

Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: Here we go. Sorry if I’m not your type, maybe we should have talked about that first. Now I’m self-conscious, but it’s too late haha…

HandSurgeon: You look gorgeous, don’t go thinking you’re not my type. You are very, very hot. I can see you have food next to you, that’s good. You are taking care, good girl.

HandSurgeon: I can also see from your clock that we’re on the same time zone.

HandSurgeon: Which is good and bad, it’s already 3 am and you are not asleep. Why is that?

Edelweiss: living the student life, only the best life. I was working on some project for my master degree, and I thought: hey I’m horny, let’s go on that funny website.

Edelweiss: And here we are.

Edelweiss: Why are you awake? Shouldn’t you be… getting some sleep to be saving lives in the morning or something?

HandSurgeon: I had just finished a 10 hours surgery, I needed something to distract my mind while working on some paperwork. You did very well in being distracting.

It felt a lot more real when I read his message. It was now sinking in that he was really a doctor, not any kind, a surgeon. I was not going to ask more details, the less I knew the better. But it was slightly intimidating and at the same time interesting to know he was the real deal. My pride was swelling when I read I was able to distract him from his work, he had done his fair share of helping me out too.

Edelweiss: I am sorry? Is it… important paperwork? I could let you be, if you want. We could talk another time, when you’re free? My sleeping schedule is fucked up, I don’t know about yours but I am going to be online many late nights haha.

Edelweiss: if you want to, of course. Maybe you don’t want to hear from me again. Actually, I thought I’d be the one to leave the website and not come back, but I kind of enjoyed our session… I wouldn’t mind doing this a bit more if we’re both in the mood of course.

HandSurgeon: You’re so nervous. Don’t be, I’m not going to let you go. What kind of dom would I be if I let such an obedient girl go? Go to sleep, we’ll talk later Edelweiss. Any reason for that name?

Edelweiss: god I didn’t want you to ask, it’s just. It’s a cool flower, it means strength and toughness you know? I’m a tough woman, I deal with shit. I can handle shit, you know?

I read my message many times, thinking maybe I should have found something funny but thought not. It was just bonding, we were discussing, getting to know one another. It wasn’t half bad. I turned off my computer, and moved to Discord on my phone, to keep talking. When I looked at his picture, it was just a white bear, it looked cute. Funny how he had such a cute picture and he was domming someone on the side, two sides of the same coin I suppose. Come to think of it, maybe he could be an old man, maybe he wasn’t who he said he was…

HandSurgeon: Interesting, I like it. It’s better than calling you ‘Entertain me’. Not very creative, if you ask me.

Edelweiss: Oh right, because ‘A real doctor’ is better? Maybe you’re not even a doctor. Maybe you’re catfishing me. And I sent you a nude. Oh my god…

HandSurgeon: I am not catfishing you, I can send you a picture. What do you need on it?

Edelweiss: Uh, I don’t know? Write down my name on a paper, and hold it against your chest, then take the picture? With the date! Yeah.

There wasn’t any reply for a moment, I was starting to panic. Then I received the picture and gasped loudly. Surrounded by the darkness of the room, it was all that could drown my shock. I had to take a double take as I wrote back.

HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

Edelweiss: I mean, … Thank you for... it’s uh. Very. You’re not catfishing me. Nope. I understand why HandSurgeon now, you uh. Yep. Nice gloved hands, very slender. Most people would have held a huge piece of paper between their index finger and their thumb.

Edelweiss: but you opted for middle finger and index. And a smaller paper. Almost as if you were posing really. I do not mind. It’s uh. Enjoyable. Not an old man, no. And the scrubs and all, love it.

HandSurgeon: The scrubs, yes. You believe me, good. You can rest easy now, go to sleep Edelweiss. You probably have work to do tomorrow, and so do I.

HandSurgeon: Sleep well.

Edelweiss: Sweet dreams doc!

I stared at the screen a bit longer before leaving the app and turning my phone face down on my night stand. What a night. I was so tired, and yet buzzing with excitement. It was strange, it was a strange dynamic but I wanted to discover more. I wanted to know more about this world. What else could this man offer me?

Closing my eyes, I thought, maybe I could buy a connected sex toy? Sure, they were for couples, but they could definitely be used for other people. It could be fitting if I wanted to give him the control…

My hands met my face full force and I groaned, I had met this man at best 4 hours ago and I was already desperate to have another session. I was already desperate to let him have the control.

But it felt nice, so nice to not be in control for once. Yes, I had to hold the toy and read, but he was the one guiding me, it was elating! God, what am I doing? No, it’s alright. I’m an adult, he’s an adult. We’re both consenting adults, having fun. Nothing bad there.

I’m a sore adult though. Maybe I’d need a few days before letting him have his fun. My eyes closed; I was thinking back on how his undershirt was hugging his form. Was it legal to look like that? I mean, I did not know what he looked like, but the little I saw was enough to make someone dream. His long-sleeved grey shirt was showing off his muscles and it definitely made me weak.

I scoffed into my pillow, a surgeon. I wonder what else his hands could do. Fortunately, I’ll never meet him in real life, if I met the man I did not know if I’d want to jump him or run away from how intimidating his entire being was.

It only took me a lot of stupid questions and day dreaming, for my brain to finally shut down and let me sleep. I went to sleep a lot easier than I usually did, perhaps it was because of the nice fucking I gave myself. Or perhaps it was thanks to the energy I spent overthinking the situation. Whichever it was, I was passed out in no time.

Tomorrow I’ll talk more to the hot doctor and have a bit more fun with him.

[Part 2]

#trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar law #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar law x reader #one piece #one piece x reader #law one piece #law x reader #words of pleasure #WoP #physicalturian #ao3 #writer #writing #writings #fanfiction #N/SFW

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

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Day 26: Parental Moxiety

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 26 - You can’t see shades of your soulmate’s eye color a certain color until you meet [your soulmate] and look into each other’s eyes for the first time. (I misread the prompt! Whoops!)

Content warnings: mentions of lousy foster system, orphanage, implied past abuse/neglect, social workers, aro/ace character, past minor injuries (pet inflicted), mentions of anxiety and PTSD.

Word count: 2.8k

Note: Not beta-read

Patton never doubted the fact that he was lucky.

His heart always went out to those who were missing colors like green, and blue. It must be horrible, he thought, to be missing out on the hue of a grassy field or the sky forever being grey, even on clear days. But then again, meeting your soulmate after seeing nature as dismal shades for years must be amazing; trees suddenly lighting up in brilliant emerald and water becoming as crystal blue as a diamond. So he was grateful, because he was missing a color that was surprisingly rare to find in nature, if the shocking lack of grey was enough of an indicator. Grateful, because that meant he wouldn’t be missing out. Grateful, because Patton didn’t want a soulmate.

It had taken him years to realize why he was so adamant about actually finding his soulmate. Everyone, from his middle school class to his university study group to his coworkers now, had frequent conversations about the topic. Common ice breakers amongst groups were “what color are you missing?” and “tell us about the first time you saw ‘insert color name here’” and just anything else that reminded Patton of how little he wanted all of that. He was happy with his friends, happy with his family-- both blood and chosen-- and the idea of… romantic relationships just made him uncomfortable. He hated that it seemed to be the rest of the world’s main drive in life. Every time he explained his ‘predicament’, had to explain to someone that he was aro/ace and just didn’t want all that, he was met with pity looks. No one believed him when he insisted that it didn’t make him sad, he wasn’t just waiting for the right person, he just didn’t want it and that was okay.

That didn’t explain why he was missing a color, though. If it were up to him, he’d spend the rest of his life content with the way it was going, not searching for a so-called “better half”. He wished that soulmates weren’t a thing, in full honesty. Because then he wouldn’t be reminded every time he looked at a dull lilac bush that no, the universe had paired him up with someone and it was only a matter of time until he was subject to meeting them. It was the thing he dreaded more than anything else.

These were the thoughts going through his mind as he fiddled with a pen between his fingers that appeared as grey to him, absently wondering what ‘purple’ actually looked like. The door to his right opened and he looked up, a bright smile spreading across his face.

“Hi, Mr. Sanders. My name is Deborah, I’m one of the social workers here.”

“Nice to meet you,” Patton said, his heart almost beating out of it’s chest. She took a seat across the desk from him, placing the file in her hands onto the pristine wood. He laid the pen back on the desk where he’d taken it from.

“So,” Her tone was all business, but her eyes held a distinct sparkle that could only be taken as a good sign, “I’m the social worker of one of the children’s profiles you flagged on the adoption website. Do you remember a ‘Virgil Storm’?”

“Absolutely!” Patton remembered the picture of the kid well. A small boy sitting cross legged in a sandbox, looking at the camera with an expression that could only be described as disdain, hands buried in the sand. He was noticeably separated from the group, the hood of his black jacket pulled over his eyes despite the shining sun. After reading the small blurb about him, and immediately growing attached to the toddler that had been tossed around four foster homes in the single year he’d been orphaned, he’d clicked the small smiley face in the top right corner with no hesitation.

“I was given your file, and after discussing it with your social worker, we’ve decided you two might be a match.”

Patton nearly dropped on the spot, trying in vain to hold back his huge grin, “I thought they said that could take up to a year!”

“That is our usual estimate. While, unfortunately, the adoption rate is a lot lower for single men, you were put through faster due to your profession. You being a therapist definitely pushed you forward in the right direction.”

Opening the file, she pulled out a stack of papers and a single picture, handing them to him. The picture was the same as the one on the adoption website, so his eyes turned to scan the printed profile.

“This is all his current information. Known family history, allergies, education level, etcetera,” The social worker continued, gesturing to the file, “That picture’s a bit old. He just turned three. He’s had a… pretty rough go of it so far. The information about his parent’s passing are in his file, if you want to give the whole thing a read when you have the chance.”

Patton tore his eyes away from the photo, “And he’s a possible match?”

“Yes, he is. He needs a stable home environment with no pets and no other children, and due to the trauma he experienced, has severe anxiety. Him developing PTSD as he ages is a large possibility. He’s a bit of a tough nut to crack, but we believe he’ll thrive with you.”

He took a deep breath, nodding mutely along with her words. He didn’t trust himself to speak right now, not with the odd mix of pure heartbreak and elation flowing through him. The poor kid…

“You can take the file home, take some time to think about it-”

“No,” He said quickly, “I mean… I don’t need to think about it. How do you determine if we match well?”

Deborah blinked a couple times, taken back by his abruptness. “Well… chemistry after a first meeting, judging if the child’s uncomfortable with the other, and meeting with the child and parent weekly for the first three months, then bi-weekly for the next three. After a six month residency, we can get the adoption legalized by the court. Both your social worker and I will be there every step of the way to answer any questions, help with the adjustment process, and just support you both.” She looked to Patton with a raised eyebrow, “Are you sure you don’t want to take some time?”

“I’m very sure.” He’d flagged many profiles on the website, feeling an unexplainable amount of guilt every time he didn’t, but Virgil’s had stuck with him more than any other. The idea of a kid already riddled with social anxiety and trauma had hit him hard, and he wanted nothing more than to be able to help him through it.

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Yes please,” He said before she had even finished speaking. She gave him a small smile and headed to the door, warning him it might be a while to convince the boy to come with her, so to just sit tight.

When she’d closed the door behind her, Patton turned his attention back to the file on his lap. He might as well read it while she was gone, anyways. It didn’t take long for him to read the few pages of information, committing Virgil’s birthday to memory. A small part of his brain advised that that might not be the smartest thing to do, already getting attached to a child he hadn’t even met, but his heart broke reading over the history of someone so young, still a toddler, undergoing trauma that no one should ever have to go through. The poor kid watched his parents die, and they were pretty awful people to begin with.

He’d read the file twice over when the door reopened. At first he thought she’d come back alone and his heart sunk, until she shifted to the side and revealed the small boy who’d tucked himself behind her. He wasn’t touching her, not holding the hand she had offered to him, just following steps behind, like he was equally scared of her as he was of everything else. Pulled over his head was the same black hoodie as in the picture, looking a size too small now. It took a lot of tugging for him to hide his hands in the short sleeves, an anxious sign that Patton recognized immediately. Though, it wasn’t hard to narrow down, not with the way he was absolutely shaking.

Patton slid off his chair with no hesitation, smoothly lowering himself to the ground so he was closer to eye level with Virgil. Still, the young child pulled his chin even closer to his chest, adamant on not meeting the man’s eyes.

“Hey kiddo,” Patton cooed gently, “My name’s Patton. You can call me Pat if that’s easier, okay? What’s your name?” He already knew everything about him, obviously, but it seemed a smart choice to let the kid introduce himself; avoid spooking him.

“Virgil,” he whispered back, mouth half covered by the collar of his hoodie.

“That’s a real nice name, kiddo.”

Finally, the small boy looked up, dark brown eyes barely peeking through his equally dark bangs. His head tilted to the side, not unlike a curious puppy, as he studied the man in front of him, the man who was willingly sitting on the floor for him. None of his foster parents had done that before, and he highly doubted his parents would have ever considered it. Thinking of his birth parents caused him to shrink in on himself slightly.

“How would you feel about living with me, Virgil?”

He looked down, wrestling his hands free of the dirty sleeves to fiddle with his zipper. “Like a foster home? I don’ like foster homes.” His speech was slow and fumbly, like he was working with new words.

“No, not like a foster home. For good.”

“With other kids?” Hands flat, he pushed his bangs out of his face and ended up letting his hood flop back. “In my last foster home, there were four kids.” He held up four fingers to emphasize his point.

“Nope,” Patton chuckled, leaning over to reattach the velcro on Virgil’s sneakers, “It would just be you and me. But I live really close to a park, so we can go play with other kids any time you want. And I have some friends with kids your age, and whenever you feel ready, you can meet them.”

This seemed to send a flurry of mixed emotions across the toddlers face. He glanced at the social worker, who had taken her seat and was watching the meeting with rapt attention.

“Do you have pets?”

“Nope. Why, do you like pets?”

He shook his head with clear fear, ruining all his hard work of pushing his bangs away as they fell right back into his eyes, “No pets.”

“Well, then it’s good I don’t have any.”

Virgil gave him a hard look and Patton was silent, letting the child scrutinize him with all the intensity of a rocket scientist. Watching the elder’s hands carefully, the kid dropped to the ground in front of him, slowly meeting his eyes again. Patton couldn’t help the wide grin that stretched across his face.

“Welcome to the floor, kiddo.” And oh, it was a blessed day, because the tiny smile he got in return was enough to make his heart melt. “Tell me, Virgil, what��s your favorite show?”

“Paw Patrol.”

“Ah, a classic! Do you have a favorite pup?”

“Rubble,” He mumbled after a moment of consideration, scratching at the rip in his jeans, right over his knee, “He’s funny. He falls in the elevator, and he says ‘Rubble ooon the double!’”

“You don’t like pets, but you like Paw Patrol? Why’s that?” He couldn’t help his own inner therapist coming out.

Virgil shrugged, “They don’t bark loud, and they’re little. And they don’t make big messes or bite. Dogs are cute but I don’t like them. Dogs are too loud and they leave a mess.”

He felt there was probably a lot to unpack there, but that could definitely wait for another day. Deep inside, he knew there must be some trauma buried with that sentiment. “Do you like cats?”

“No. They scratch and bite and hiss too much,” He held up his hand to Patton, showing him the light scars on the backs of them, “We had a cat named Whiskers and he did that. He’d come in my room at night and bite me.”

“Just as well. I’m allergic to cats anyways.”

“I’m allergic to peanuts.”

Patton giggled, and a relieved expression crossed the younger’s face. “What about fish? They’re pretty quiet, and they for sure don’t bite. Do you like fish?”

He seemed to ponder this for a moment, before shrugging again, “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay. Maybe if you like fish, we can get some. How does that sound?”

Virgil perked up, his leg starting to bounce from where it was crossed under him, “Really?”

“Yeah, kiddo. We can also get you a new hoodie, since that one seems a bit small.” Of course, he meant to buy him more than just a hoodie, but he might as well start small. The very idea of getting a fish seemed to almost overwhelm him.

“I like my hoodie,” Virgil’s voice dropped and he curled in on himself, wrestling to pull the sleeves over his fingers again.

“Oh, that’s okay! You can keep that one, but we’ll get more, just so you can wear them when this one is in the wash.”

His eyebrows scrunched together adorably, his back relaxing. It hurt Patton, to think that having such basic needs met was a shock for him.

“If you two don’t mind, I’m going to talk to just Virgil for a little bit,” Deborah spoke up, causing Virgil to flinch. “Is that okay with you, sweetie?”

He nodded reluctantly, and Patton took his leave, sending Virgil one final supportive smile before closing the office door behind him. He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, before taking a seat in the waiting room. It would be a lie to admit he wasn’t already enamoured with the little kid, but the final decision wasn’t up to him. Ultimately, it would be Virgil and the social worker who would deem it a match or not. Knowing that’s what was happening on the other side of the door was enough to make his leg bounce nervously.

He passed the time by pulling out his phone and sending a vague update to his friends. The onslaught of messages he got in return, mostly ecstatic, was enough to distract him as he waited to be called back in. Of course, not all the responses were enthusiastic, mainly from his parents and sister, asking if he was sure he was ready for this. Those, he just left on read. Because yes, he was ready. He had been for a long time.

When he was called back into the room, Virgil was sitting in the much too large chair in front of the desk, his feet pulled up under him again and looking between him and the social worker. His hood was back on his head, sleeves covering his hands once more.

“From what Virgil and I discussed, it seems we are ready to begin the process of moving him into your house, and beginning your residency period.”

Patton tried not to whoop at the news, grinning wider than he had all day. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this utterly elated, so light on his feet.

They agreed to show Virgil the home, just to get him used to the layout before finally moving there, and he would come visit during the days for the next few weeks, still spending his nights in the orphanage. It was a gradual transition, one that Patton hoped went smoothly, because oh gosh he couldn’t believe this was happening.

As he led Virgil out of the building, the small boy hesitantly reached up and took his hand, head tucked to his chest. He was so scared. Patton squeezed his hand a little, heart equally shattered and melted, as he walked to the social worker’s car and let her buckle him into her carseat. They agreed to meet at the house, and Patton pulled onto the main road, music blasting to try and drown out the indescribable joy bubbling in his chest.

If he hadn’t been so distracted, he might have noticed the pen he’d placed on the desk back in the office, would now have been a shimmering purple in his eyes.

#lywrites #tsshipmonth2020 #parental moxiety #patton sanders #virgil sanders #ts soulmate au #sanders sides #sanderssides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssidesau #ts adoption au

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snelbz · 4 years ago

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Lost Time {10}

A/N: A sweet and emotional chapter for you!

Co-written by @tacmc.

FIND PREVIOUS CHAPTERS HERE

SHELBY’S ASK BOX // SHELBY’S MASTERLIST

TARA’S ASK BOX // TARA’S MASTERLIST

Azriel’s eyes slowly opened. With a yawn, he rolled onto his back, completely unaware of how long he’d been out. He flung out his arm to the other side of the bed, but found it empty. The pillow and the sheets on her side of the bed were still disheveled, so he assumed she had just gotten up.

“Elain?” he called, his voice tired and his throat was still dry from his mass alcohol consumption.

No reply came, and when he looked to the bathroom door, it was wide open. He fell back on the pillows, assuming she had just gone out for some ice or a quick phone call.

After running his hands through his wild, messy hair, he took her pillow and brought it close to him, propping it beneath his head. Her scent lingered, like lilies and vanilla, along with the scent of what they’d done.

He remembered every time he had ever made love to Elain, but none of them compared to what they’d done. It was more than sex. It had always been more than sex with her, but this time, it was the reconnection of two souls.

Turning his face into the pillow, he inhaled deeply and he swore that the mingling scents of her and of sex still hanging in their room had him ready to go again, though that was probably thanks to his morning wood, as well. He closed his eyes letting himself doze for a few more minutes, until he realized that her side of the bed wasn’t just empty. It was cold.

He sat up, half expecting to find her sitting at the desk, flipping through his pictures again. Except she wasn’t there.

The empty feeling in his chest was so strong that he wondered if there’d ever been anything in there before. He pulled his knees up and rested his arms on them, the blanket draped across, and hung his head. He blew out a sharp breath.

Fuck. So that was what it felt like.

He looked around the room, not finding a single thing out of place that belonged to her. Even his laptop was sitting in the exact same place he’d left it.

It couldn’t have been a dream, there was no way. There was no cosmic being out there that was that much of an asshole. Azriel dragged his hand down his face and he froze.

He could still still smell her on his fingers. It was no dream.

Without another thought, he was out of bed, reaching for the shirt and sweats that had been discarded at the end of the bed. He had to-.

The lock made a whirring noise as the keycard was used and the door opened. Elain stepped in and found Azriel standing at the end of the bed, very confused and very naked. Her eyes trailed down his body and she kicked her lips before she said, “I went to get lunch.”

He looked down at that moment and found the note scribbled on the scratch pad on the desk. He cleared his throat, “I see that.”

She raised a brow as she kicked the door shut and carried a large paper bag to the little table by the window. “You look frazzled.”

Azriel hesitated, then tugged on his sweatpants as she set out the contents from the paper bag. It smelled delicious. “I just…” He trailed off, and shook his head before coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. She leaned back into him and smiled.

“There’s a decent cup of coffee there to erase the crappy hotel coffee you had this morning,” she said, quietly, nodding to a large cup in the middle of the table.

“Thank you,” he whispered into her ear before nibbling at her earlobe.

She giggled, softly, before turning around to look up into his soft, hazel eyes.

“You went to the Tavern,” he said, kissing her nose.

“I did,” she grinned.

“I love the Tavern.”

“I know,” she said, falling into his chest, pressing her lips between his pecs. “You also love their ham and swiss sandwiches, on homemade rye bread, with their homemade chips, which is what I got you.”

Gods, he’d missed her.

Her lips continued to move lower.

He’d really, really missed her.

By the time he got to his sandwich and coffee, he’d had to heat it up in the small microwave on top of the fridge. Elain ate her BLT, his arm lazily wrapped around her as they leaned back against the pillows.

“So,” Elain began, pulling a piece of bacon from between the two pieces of bread and feeding it to him. He detested tomatoes, but had been eyeing the bacon since she unwrapped it. “What have you been doing the past four years?”

He laughed as he mindlessly dragged his finger along her bare shoulder. “You want the full breakdown or the cliff notes version?”

She debated. “Cliff notes.”

Azriel nodded, taking another massive bite of his sandwich before giving his answer. “Taking pictures.”

She stared up at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but he just went back to eating his sandwich. “Okay,” she said, blinking, “when I said to give me the shorter version, I didn’t think it’d be that short.”

He laughed, quietly, before setting his sandwich down on the wrapping and popping a chip into his mouth. “I mean, that’s pretty much all I’ve done. Travel, take pictures…” He shrugged. “Send those pictures into the magazines or websites that hired me to take them, and then I repeat the process.”

“Do you still want to travel?” Elain asked. “When companies ask you to?”

His smile softened. “If you come with me, of course.”

Elain chuckled and nudged him in the ribs before taking another little bite of her BLT - although it was now nearly baconless. “I don’t know, you never were a good travelling companion.”

“That’s not true,” he argued.

She rolled her eyes. “You got carsick when we went up to the mountains and we had to pull over every five minutes for you to puke.”

Azriel’s lips pursed which only made Elain laugh louder. As she laid her head against his shoulder, he said, “I’ve come a long way.”

She patted his knee, her laughing simmering, as she finished off her sandwich.

“What about you? What have you been doing the past four years?” he asked, taking her hand into his. “Aside from taking care of Novan, of course.”

She shrugged. “That’s mostly it. He’s taken up most of my time, but your parents have been the biggest help. Whenever I have to work my shifts, it means he gets a day with his Meme.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed. “Shifts? You have a job?”

She laughed. “Yes, a part time job. I have to pay for things, of course. It’s not like I had a baby daddy that could send me money every week.”

He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her and she stuck out her tongue at him. “I work at the antique shop in the square in the mornings.”

He tilted his head to the side and asked, “What about the flower shop you were going to open?”

She chuckled, but the sound was much sadder than her last laugh and when she rested her head back into the crook of his neck, his arm tightened around her. “Being a single mother doesn’t leave much time for your own dreams.”

An overwhelming sense of guilt crashed into him as he rubbed her arm. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing,” Elain whispered. “I didn’t say it to make you feel bad, but it’s the truth.”

“I do need to keep apologizing,” Azriel said, then looked down at her and lifted her chin to meet his gaze. “I want to be a part of his life now, Elain. I want to help, do my part. I want us to be a family.”

Her eyes softened as she let out a long, slow breath.

Azriel hesitated, his hand falling onto his lap. “You do want to tell him that I’m his dad, right?”

It came out more insecure than he’d intended, but a sudden fear settled in the pit of his stomach.

Elain gave him a comforting smile. “Of course, I do. I just...don’t know how.”

He swallowed, roughly, and asked, “Do you want to wait? Until things have settled down from dad dying?”

Elain saw the guttering in Azriel’s eyes and she took his hand in her own, looking down as their fingers intertwined. “Are you okay? From losing him?”

For a moment, Azriel said nothing. He tried to sort his emotions, tried to put everything he felt into a simple sentence. Eventually, he came up with, “No. I should’ve been around, you know? I hadn’t seen him in years, and then he died. There was so much I didn’t get to say to him, so much we didn’t get to do. And now I won’t get the chance.”

Elain nodded, staring at their hands, clasped together. “Novan sure loved him. And Drakon always talked about how Novan reminded him of you.”

Azriel gave her a curious look, because Elain laughed. “We all see it. His little mannerisms, the looks he gives, the light in his eyes when he’s excited about something. You may not have been there for the last few years with Drakon, Azriel, but every time he was around Novan, which was often, he had a little piece of you there with him.”

If Elain saw the silver lining her eyes, she didn’t say anything, just let him process her words. He turned towards the wall, sniffling quietly, and he wiped his cheeks with the back of his hand. When he turned back to her, his eyes were sad, yes, but they were soft. He tugged her down into the pillows, and she didn’t hesitate to lay her head over his heart. They laid like that for a while, neither of them saying anything. Occasionally, she’d brush her lips against his chest or he’d press a soft kiss to the top of her head. Azriel had always needed quiet moments to process his thoughts and one of the things he loved about Elain is that she never felt the need to fill every spare moment with mindless chatter, just for the sake of talking.

When Azriel did finally speak, his words were strong and steady, as he said, “I promise, Elain, I’m going to do whatever it takes to be the father Novan has always dreamed of.” But he paused, and then his voice was shaking when he added, “The father that dad expected me to be.”

She gently rested her palm against his cheek as she breathed, “I know. I believe you. And you’re going to be a damn good dad.”

Azriel nodded, mostly because he didn’t trust himself to speak.

“You should come with me,” she said, running her fingertips along his forearm. “When I pick him up from your mom.”

“Okay,” he said, quietly. “I will.”

She smiled before taking his face into her hands and kissing his mouth, softly, then again and again until her back was pressed down against the blankets and he was lying on top of her, propped on his elbows.

“I don’t want to stop kissing you,” he said, muttered against her lips. “Ever.”

“Then don’t,” she shot back, her hands trailing down his back, to his ass, which is where they remained.

He decided he wouldn’t, not for a little while at least. Though it wasn’t always her mouth he was kissing.

They were lounging in the tub when the questions started. “What was his first word?”

Elain smiled, settling back against his chest, scooting deeper into the water. “Meme, but she’s always been his favorite, so none of us ever had a chance.”

A full smile, full of love for his sweet mother. “What has he been for Halloween?”

“Let’s see.” She licked her lips as she thought and Azriel wanted to turn her and capture them with his own. “He was a spider when he was a baby, a t-rex when he was two, he was a cop with Uncle Cass last year, and so far, it seems we’re on par to be a cop again.”

He laughed, loving the warmth in her eyes when she talked about their son. And on and on his questions went. Some were superficial - has he ever broken a bone, what’s his favorite sport, is he scared of monsters - while others were harder for Elain to answer - what did you tell him when he first asked where I was, does he care for Lucien, how did he handle the death of his Papa.

The mention of Azriel’s dad had his heart feeling heavy again.

“Thank you,” he said, quietly, his mouth by her ear raising goosebumps on her arms.

She turned to look at him, but he was staring ahead. “For what?”

He blinked away the moisture in his eyes, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last time, not by a long shot. “For letting my family be in his life. Even after my poor choices.”

She snorted, which was not the reaction he was expecting. “You act like I would have been able to anyways. Cassian was practically pacing outside of my room when he was in the NICU.”

“In the NICU?” Azriel asked, turning his body to look at her. “Why was he in the NICU?”

“He was born eight weeks early,” she said, quietly. “You’d never know it by looking at him, but he struggled for a few weeks. At first, they weren’t sure if he was going to make it or not. But he did, and he thrived.”

Another reason for Azriel to feel guilty, another thing to add to his list, but Elain was taking her hand into his as he said, “Strong. Just like his mommy.”

Elain looked over her shoulder and smiled, softly. “I guess he should’ve gotten something from me.”

Azriel’s simple smile turned into a wide grin. “He got everything from you, it seems. All but his appearance.”

“Did you know it?” Elain asked. “When you saw him for the first time, did you know he was yours?”

“Yes,” Azriel breathed. “I didn’t admit it to myself...I was confused; but, I knew.”

A soft smile graced Elain’s lips. “I wish you could have seen your face. You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”

He laughed quietly, the sound rumbling in his chest. “So did you.”

“I thought I was,” she quietly admitted. “For a moment, I thought I had to be dreaming, but then Nesta slapped you and I knew I was awake.” She was smiling broadly by the end of her sentence.

He shook his head, his cheeks tinting pink, remembering when he found all eyes on him. “I’m glad she didn’t punch me, cause I think she’d have a hell of a right hook.”

Elain asked, “You forget who her fiancé is.”

He blew out a breath. “How could I? That’s- I never thought that- How did that even happen?”

She laughed. “I don’t know, but it’s like they were at each other’s throats like always and then overnight, they truly found each other and it’s been that way ever since.”

Az nodded and was about to say something when Elain’s phone began to ring from the bedroom.

“Shit, that’s your mom,” she said, recognizing the ringtone.

Azriel was out of the bathtub in seconds, carefully hurrying into the bedroom and answering Elain’s phone. “Hey, mom. Is everything okay?”

The beat of silence told Azriel that Miryam hadn’t been expecting to hear her youngest son’s voice. “Yes, everything is fine. Are...you with Elain?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Hmmm.”

That one sound had more meaning to it than some speeches. He repeated, “Hmmm?”

She just repeated, “Hmmm.” Az was about to say something when Miryam said, “Would you mind asking Elain what time she was going to pick up Novan? I thought I might take him out for dinner tonight.”

He moved the phone away from his face and turned back to the bathroom, where Elain was getting out of the draining bathtub, toweling off her naked body. He swallowed hard and asked, “Mom wants to take Novan to dinner, what time did you want to get him?”

She wrapped the towel around her breasts and tied her hair up in a loose bun. “Dinner is fine, so around six-thirty or seven.”

He relayed the message. “We can be there about seven.”

“We…” Miryam repeated. “Hmmm.”

“Mom,” Azriel warned.

“I didn’t say anything,” she defended, but he could hear the smile in her voice. “I’ll see you in a bit. I love you.”

“Love you, mom.” He hung you the phone and Elain walked towards him with a dry towel.

She looked at him with an arched brow. “Did she say everything was okay?”

“With Novan? Yes,” Azriel said. “With us, she sounded a little suspicious.”

Elain chuckled. “And what did she think was happening here?”

She wrapped her arms around Azriel’s bare waist, and he was just remembering that he was completely nude. “Probably exactly what’s happening.”

She laughed, quietly, before she looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand. “We have three hours yet before we need to get Novan. We could go out to dinner, too.”

Azriel grinned. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Maybe,” she said, jabbing him in the chest. “If you’re lucky.”

“And am I lucky?” he asked, quietly, before leaning down to catch her lips with his own.

“I don’t know,” she said, quietly. “Are you?”

“I’m feeling pretty damn lucky,” he whispered. They barely made it out of the room, when all it took was a look from across the room and jeans being zipped were forgotten as their lips found one another’s again. But eventually, Elain managed to finish her makeup and slip on the sun dress she’d grabbed from the house on her food run.

The low whistle from Az as she stepped into the small living area wasn’t complimentary enough. “Gods, you look…”

He stood, stepping towards her and before he could kiss her, she put a hand to his chest. “I’m starving and if you kiss me now, we’ll never leave.”

Azriel arched a brow. “You act like that’s a bad thing.”

“I’m starving,” she repeated. “If I wait any longer to eat, I’m eating you.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad,” he mumbled, and she nudged him in the shoulder as he laughed, and took her hand, and led her out of the room. Considering his truck was still at the bar, which they made a mental note to grab on the way back, Azriel fell into the passenger side of Elain’s car.

The same car she’d always had.

“Alright,” he said, putting on his seatbelt. “Where are you taking me?”

She asked. “You didn’t start any weird celebrity diets or anything, right? You still eat normal food?”

He laughed. “I still eat the same shit I used to.”

“I just had to make sure, because since you look like that and you were in New York,” she said. “I was making sure you weren’t vegan or something suddenly.”

“No, I couldn’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I love bacon too much.”

She laughed and said, “Good, I know just the place.”

Rita’s was a pizzeria that had been in Velaris for as long as anyone could remember. Their pizzas were made from scratch every single time and when they pulled up, Azriel couldn’t help the smile on his face.

They were seated quickly and after ordering their drinks, they sat across from each other in the booth. Azriel was smirking at her and Elain couldn’t take it anymore. “What?”

His smile grew. “You think I forgot.”

The picture of innocence. “Forgot what?”

He took her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “That this is where I took you on our first date.”

Her smile was wide, bright. “I would never accuse you of forgetting.”

Azriel laughed, quietly. “That was a good night.”

“You were a nervous wreck,” she said, shaking her head.

“I was,” he agreed. “And I had a right to be. You were stunning. I had no idea why you said yes to going out with me.”

“Why wouldn’t I have?” Elain grinned. “You were sweet. And my friend.”

“You were so beautiful,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. “Kind, genuine, funny, talented. My dream girl.”

Elain blushed, but she simply asked, “Is that so?”

Azriel nodded. “I tried on five different outfits before I came and picked you up.”

She blinked. “All of your clothes looked the same.”

He laughed. “Exactly, I think it’s been established that I was a nervous wreck. But, how couldn't I be? I was taking Elain Archeron out on a date.”

“And how was she?” Elain asked, intrigued. “This Elain Archeron?”

“Hmmm.” Azriel leaned back in his chair. “Well, she kisses on the first date, I’ll tell you that.”

Elain’s cheeks turned pink as she remembered how he kissed her goodnight on the front porch. She opened her menu and flipped through the pages though nothing she looked at registered. “You know what they say about a girl who kisses on the first date,” she said, finally glancing up at him.

“What’s that?” He asked, opening his own menu, but not even bothering to look down at it.

“She’d been dreaming of kissing you for years, you just finally gave her the opportunity to do so.”

Azriel’s eyes softened and he leaned forward, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “What about on the second first date? Anything she’s been dreaming of for years this time?”

“Only what we’ve already done today,” she replied, quietly, her cheeks reddened. “As for what comes next, you’ll have to finish the date first.”

Azriel was grateful he was sitting because his knees grew weak. He couldn’t imagine anything better than the moments they’d already shared that day,

“This will be our last first date,” he promised, quietly, and Elain’s smile softened. “I promise you that.”

Elain nodded, her fingers tightening around his hand. “You better mean that, Azriel Draeven.”

“I mean it,” he promised. “I swear it.”

She nodded, as her eyes lined with tears, her smile bright. Just as she was about to say something more, the waitress came to take their order. Neither of them had looked at the menu, but they ended up ordering a pizza to share, with pepperoni and ham, the same that they had on their very first date.

They finished their pizza and Azriel paid before they walked out of Rita’s, hand in hand. The evening was comfortable and they had another hour or so before they were supposed to get Donovan, so they walked through the Square. They talked about storefronts that had changed in the past few years and the ones that stayed the same. Azriel was relieved when he saw that the ice cream parlor on the corner still remained and he pulled her in that direction. Elain only shook her head and laughed, as once again, Azriel proved he was Novan’s dad.

Elain carried her small cup, and Azriel attempted to eat his cone with two scoops while the walked but eventually, they stepped off and sat at one of the benches overlooking the park. Az wiped the last bit of chocolate ice cream from his face and pointed at a sign. “Is that the antique shop you work for?” Elain nodded and he asked, “What do you do for them?”

She shrugged. “A little is everything. I appraise what I can, but I leave that to them as often as I can. I answer questions, I check people out. But mostly, I salvaged and re-finish the furniture.”

“Really?” He asked. “That sounds fun.”

She shrugged. “As far as jobs go, I definitely can’t complain.”

“Is any of that furniture in your house?” Azriel asked. Last time he was there, looking at the furniture was the last thing on his mind.

“There’s a table against the wall right when you walk in the front door that I re-finished.” She smiled at Azriel’s impressed look. “The coffee table, too.”

“Nice,” he said, and meant it. “I didn’t know you were into such things.”

She shrugged. “Like I said, it’s a job. But, it’s enjoyable, and pretty relaxing. I’ll be able to do more of it when Novan goes to school next year.”

Azriel smiled and checked his watch. “Speaking of, it’s getting close to seven. We should probably get you over to moms.”

Elain nodded, then kissed him, sweetly. “I had a nice second first date.”

“I did, too.” He pressed his lips to hers again and said, “Why don’t we try to-.”

Elain’s phone rang again, the tone belonging to Miryam ringing out. She fished it from her purse and pressed it to her ear. “Hi, I’m so sorry, we stopped for dinner and time got away from us.”

Azriel watched as Elain’s brow furrowed while she listened to Miryam. And then she blushed, eyes going wide as she glanced up at Azriel and then down at the ground. “Yes, ma’am. Yes, ma’am. We’ll see you tomorrow. Have him call to say goodnight before bed, please. I love you, too.”

Elain pulled the phone from her ear and said, “Your mom is going to keep Novan for the night.”

Azriel’s mouth dried out as he realized that meant he got a full night with her, uninterrupted. Even he surprised himself when he said, “Come have a drink with me.”

Her smile grew. “You’re not still paying for last night?”

Azriel laughed, quietly. “I can handle a drink with you.”

“Fine,” she said, starting to walk again, tugging on his hand. “But I pick the place.”

“Do you even know of a place that sells alcohol?” He asked.

She laughed, and nudged him in the side before she said, “Yes! I drink. Sometimes. I mean, me and my sisters go out, from time to time.”

Azriel watched her, amused. She used to never drink, used to be the designated driver at every event.

“Alright,” Azriel said, unable to stop grinning for even a second. “Lead the way, Lainy.”

At the sound of her old nickname, she looked at him with narrowed eyes, her smile so vulnerable and beautiful that it sent chills down his spine.

She took his hand and led him towards the car, still parked at Rita’s.

#lost time #toab tacmc collab #shara collab #toab lost time #elriel lost time #elriel #acotar #acomaf #acowar

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oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Text

Girls’ Night — a girlfriends’ tale

Characters: OCs (Vixen, Princess, Lace), small Namjoon intromission

Wordcount: 12.2k

Genre: slice of life with discussion of BDSM themes, conversation

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello doves! As I announced the other day, I have been working on extra pieces that I really loved as a concept. This one — I must admit — is especially dear to me since it covers topics that I consider extremely important. This fic discusses mature themes. Please minors, do not read or interact.

Quick recap: (read Jimin’s Love Talk if you want to know the whole background for this story) Princess — Jimin’s girlfriend — has ventured into the world of BDSM after Jimin expressed his interest in being dominated and spanked. A few days after her first brief session with Jimin, two old acquaintances come to her help: Vixen — Namjoon’s girlfriend and Princess’ high school classmate — and Lace, Vixen’s best friend, Princess’ university flatmate but also Taehyung’s latest crush. (Tae and Lace met through Vixen at Taehyung’s housewarming party). The girls meet for dinner at Princess’ apartment and after some confessions and girl talk, they explore the most important rules and procedures a person should know before dominating their partner in a basic impact play scenario, with special contributions of a trained domme and an experienced brat.

The piece is written with the girls as characters described through the POV of an external narrator. If you want to get to know the characters a bit better, you can find their headcanons here (Vixen — Princess — Lace).

On a lexical note: throughout the text I’ve used the word “dom” both as in short of the verb and of the noun. Even though the feminine form is usually “domme”, I’ve considered it gender neutral, as a short term for both “dominator” and “dominatrix”.

On an ethical note: I wanted to raise awareness on how a safe, sane and consensual domination works. These days there’s an increasing number of BDSM pieces coming out, and very few of them mention the level of emotional connection that is necessary in these circumstances. Most of them focus on the scene, without showing how pre-session negotiations, aftercare and post-session feedback work. I wanted this piece to be educational and I wanted to show the “background work” on how I plan each BDSM-themed piece before I write it. Though I’ve done a lot of research on handbooks, websites and forums, I am NOT a BDSM educator, so I would recommend reading more in-depth manuals in case you ever decided to venture in this world, and possibly speak with an expert first.

On to trigger warnings: swearing, consumption of alcohol, obviously there is in-depth discussion of NSFW and BDSM themes with focus on impact play. Discussion of hard limits, negotiations, SSC (safe, sane, consensual), safewords, aftercare, bruising, cutting/puncturing (connected with cane and cat-o-nine-tales whipping), marking, pain kink, punishment, drop (both for subs and doms), anatomy of impact play (where to hit, how to hit), sex toys (spanking, face slapping, paddle, riding crop, slapper, strap, whip, flogger, cane). That should be all. In terms of angst, there is some insecurity, jealousy, and slightly traumatic past experiences. Lace recalls one time she “dropped”, Vixen recalls a series of quite intense scenes. There are mentions of Vixen’s second relationship (toxic relationship with a man who called her out for her sex drive, kinkshamed her and forced her into becoming exclusively vanilla). Both Princess and Vixen mention abandoning some friends since they couldn’t trust them close to their boyfriends, or not respecting their privacy. Lace mentions traumas that lead her to learn domination. She also explains her insecurities about possibly dating Taehyung.

Word count: lengthy. 12.2k words. Reading is not necessary but recommended since a lot of pieces stem directly from this one.

Here is my masterlist!

Enjoy 💖

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EDIT: You can find part two here

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Lace came through with the loud stomps of the heels of her boots, the bag on her shoulder swaying heavily. It looked like she was ready to enter Cat Woman mode, wearing a cropped leather jacket rimmed with a thick black-fur neck. Her wondrous thighs were clad in tight, high-waisted jeans, her black leather knee boots completing the look. She impeccably wore her part.

As she neared the door, she checked her watch, noticing that she was a couple minutes early.

Five minutes later, always fashionably late, arrived Vixen, her hair falling perfectly around her pretty face, her lips tinged with a deep wine red, her doe eyes as inquisitive and wide as usual. It was exactly the girl she had met two years before on the other side of the counter of her shop, it looked like she hadn't aged a week.

"Hello!" She greeted her friend.

"Hi there! Look at you, you look like the best girlie in the world." Lace hollered back.

"Because I am." Vixen replied, basking in the attention and the praises.

"That self esteem is thriving! Freshly fucked and ready to misbehave?"

"Unfortunately not freshly enough, but you know me, I'm always ready to misbehave." Vixen winked before making her way to the entrance of the building, pressing the buzz for Princess' apartment.

"Isn't your big boy attending to his duties?" Lace asked, curious about the whole situation. She had personally met Namjoon and had seen the two of them together. They looked like the it-couple and she would gladly bet big money on the pair. Plus she knew about Vixen's collection and Namjoon's taste in terms of lingerie and negligees: in her honest opinion that's a solid base for a lasting union.

"He's attending, yes, but I don't want to vex him with my continuous cravings."

"Baby, not all of us are like that slut-shaming bastard of your ex. Stop thinking that needing to get laid more than once a week is a shame."

Princess voice sounded from the intercom. "Hi! It's floor 16 number 41!"

"Thank you!" Vixen replied before pushing the door open.

Lace slapped her hand and held the door as Vixen walked through. The other followed. "It's just that… He's been busy, plus he keeps saying he likes to come back early so we can have dinner together, he's always rushing from the studio to the dorms to his apartment. He looks like he'll get drunk on motion sickness before the tour even starts."

Lace stared at her feet as you both stood in the lift. How could she start something serious with Taehyung if they were going on tour? By the time she would get used to him he would be travelling on the other side of the world.

"So he stays at the dorms?" Lace fixed her bag on her shoulder.

"Often, yes. He stays at the apartment when I'm around, but he prefers the dorms when he's by himself or working."

The lift dinged and you exited, heading down the hallway "Thirty-eight, forty, there!" Lace chirped, noticing the open door.

There stood Princess, hair in a ponytail, wearing a fashionable white turtleneck and a thigh knee-length skirt. She looked classy and smart, just like she had appeared during previous meetings.

"Hello girls!" She waved at the pair, gesturing at them to come in.

"Hi there!" said Lace, "long time no see."

"We don’t see each other in ages and then two times in less than a month." Princess replied while hugging her. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if we reacquainted?”

Vixen nodded with a cute smile. "It would. I must say it was a surprise to meet you at the party with Jimin." Vixen took off her shoes as Princess offered her a pair of slippers.

"It seems like fate brought us back together." Princess replied.

“Indeed.” She commented, thinking about how they would get even closer if she gave in to the preternatural connection with Taehyung. Lace tugged at her boots, fighting with them a little before finally removing them, lost in her thoughts. She clumsily tried to avoid Vixen’s stare. She knew the girl would spot her secret in a second. Not now, she told herself. With the slippers on, Lace still looked like Catwoman from the ankles up, but her feet were clad with a pair of pink panther slippers that gave the outfit a hilarious twist.

"Let's move to the kitchen," Princess said, leading the way. "The apartment is small, sorry."

"Don't worry sweetie, with a view like this I would gladly live in a shoebox." Vixen commented, looking out of the window. "Plus you live pretty high up."

"It was accidental. I just needed something close to my office."

"What did you end up doing?" Lace asked as she looked at the prints on the wall.

"I work for a fashion magazine. Usually I do model casting and a little bit of everything about organising photoshoots." Princess replied.

"That sounds great!" Lace exclaimed, grinning.

Princess clumsily opened a bottle of wine, but fortunately no damage resulted. "What about you?"

"I'm a shop assistant in a lingerie shop." Lace replied.

"Don't diminish yourself like that." Vixen said, looking away from the window. "She works at the La Perla boutique in Gangnam, plus she has her own studio where she creates customised orders." The woman patted her friend on the shoulder. "She's amazing."

Princess lit up. "So you managed to make part of your dream come true!"

"A small part. I'm still far from having my own shop." Lace exhaled.

"But she's getting there." Vixen added with a positive note.

"I ordered in a little bit of everything." Princess said, taking the food out of the oven. "I didn't trust my cooking skills knowing this one." She pointed at Vixen. "I've heard you're almost a chef."

"I just took lessons." She shrugged. "I just really like everything that feels like home."

Sniffing at the air, Vixen sparked up, getting cozy at the smell of bulgogi. "This smells very nice."

"A little bird told me it's your favourite." Princess winked.

"Do I know that little bird?"

"He knows you very well." Princess said, admiring how the polished, elegant woman-girl turned completely smitten.

"I'll make sure to thank him."

Lace snickered. "Do you need help?" She offered, while Princess laid out a bunch of smaller plates and bowls with side dishes. "I got some dumplings, pancakes and our baby's favourite: braised potatoes."

Vixen clapped enthusiastically.

Dinner proceeded calmly, all the partakers digging in quietly, chitchatting between one serving and another, catching up on the various mishaps that had happened during those years apart.

"So you studied in Europe, right?" Princess asked Vixen.

"I spent almost two years between France and England, yes." She replied politely, sipping her wine composedly as if she hadn't devoured her serving of potatoes like a very smug wolf.

"Cool. But you came back here." Princess continued.

"Yes, I missed home. And I missed jajangmyeon." Vixen grinned. "Food in general. I like my life here. Living in Europe to me felt like being continuously on the sidetrack of something. Catching up with the culture is seriously a challenge, especially when you're in the art world."

"Right, you're an interior designer." Princess reminded herself.

"Exactly."

"I've heard you met Namjoon because of that."

Vixen smiled. "Yeah, well… The usual. We met at a gallery, I had a meeting with the artist and he accidentally participated. The artist and the director of the gallery accompanied us through the exhibition and at the end he asked if I wanted to grab a coffee. At the beginning I thought it strange that he hadn't booked a private visit, but he said that because of a last minute plan he had begged the director to book him in anytime. Since I'm friends with the director and I have strict privacy agreements at the firm, the curator thought it was a good idea."

"Who would have thought, uh?" Lace chirped in, laying her chopsticks on her empty bowl.

"Y'all, soju?" Princess asked, now that they were all done with the food.

While Vixen nodded, Lace held back. "I think I'll take just a sip. It gets me bloated."

The table was clean, the small cups for soju laying on the table as Princess shook the bottle and poured it according to tradition.

"Cheers to your taken asses and my single one." Offered Lace, the three of them laughing and downing the liquid. Princess drank it without even blinking, Lace taking it in a small measured way while Vixen downed it and scrunched her nose, shutting her eyes tight and shaking her head as she processed the burn.

"You're still a doll." Princess commented.

"And you're still otherworldly cool." Vixen replied, smirking. "You were the most bad ass girl of the class. I had lots of respect for you, but I was so scared of approaching you."

"You were so tiny and shy." Princess gushed. "You were everyone's crush but you were so smart. And a bit strange. It felt wrong to even think of you like that."

Vixen shook her head, "It feels strange to bring up those memories. After university and being abroad it feels like another life."

"Because many things changed in the meantime." Lace argued. "I've known you since you started working, two years ago."

"I spent half of my first paycheck at your shop."

"You did. And I asked you for coffee because I liked your sense of fashion."

"I thought you wanted to date me." Vixen laughed.

"Well, when you're done snuggling your big bear, you know you can come to me." Lace winked.

"My bear is pretty big so it might take me a while to be done with that." Vixen joked. "Plus I'm pretty happy. I haven't been this happy since I was nineteen. I'm content. Satisfied. Taken care of. Loved. I'm thriving." She closed her eyes and shrugged, smiling.

"My bad." Lace patted her own shoulder in support. "What about you and Jimin?"

"Oh, we met during a photoshoot. I assisted in his shoot and when he was done he asked to see the pictures that would feature on the magazine. That's when he asked me out for dinner." Princess said, her eyes shining as she remembered the event.

Lace noticed the two women staring at her. "Well time for my story… Me and my dildo met at the store, he was cute, I was needy and I invited him to my bed. That's how we first met and we've been happy ever since." Lace told emotionally. The other two burst out laughing, Vixen holding her belly while Princess leaned on the table.

"Oh goodness." The smaller one said.

"I think it's time we face our main topic. Would you like to start?." Lace asked Princess.

"Okay. I'll be very direct." Princess warned.

"Don't worry, we're all grown ups here. You're safe, darling." Vixen stretched her arm out to caress her forearm. "And we're pretty open minded, trust me."

"Okay. Basically, Jimin would like me to get a bit more rough in the bedroom. Namely, we tried spankings the other week. He sort of power-bottomed? Like he gave me instructions on how to do it."

Lace nodded.

"I am worried about how to handle this. I want to do it, but I don't know how to do it right. I don't want to hurt him." Princess said with a frown. “And I’m a little worried I liked it so much.”

Lace’s lips formed a small conspiratorial smile. “At the beginning there’s always a little bit of fear. And a bit of… Shame.”

“Yes.” Princess confirmed. “But it’s not something that bothers me. Like, it’s there but it doesn’t bother me. I don’t think it will persist. When I think about what we did… Well, I’m almost proud.”

Lace smirked and nodded. “That’s good. What would you like to work on? Is it just impact play — you called it "spanking" — or is it also domination on a broader sense?"

"Well… Wait, I took notes." Princess looked around, walking towards her bedroom and coming back with a small notebook and the guide.

"It's the book!" Lace exclaimed.

"The book." Vixen wiggled her eyebrows knowingly.

"You, vixen." Lace smirked. "Namjoon is right calling you that."

"You have no idea." The other replied. "Now, let's see."

"I'll return you the book." Princess reassured her.

"You can keep it for another bit. You'll need it again with Jimin."

"We have our own copy, don't worry." Princess replied, with a quick smirk. "Well, I think I can dom pretty fine — as I read the book I realised I already have some of those behaviours. However there are some practices I might have to learn in person."

"Normally we teach how to dom through subbing: what you experienced the first time with Jimin was subliminally subbing." Lace took the reins and explained. "It is one of the most sophisticated forms of domming — being a power bottom — and the fact that he did that should suggest you that A — he's a very skilled sub, or B — he's generically a very smart person with good manipulative skills."

Princess listened to the explanation quite raptured. "Personally, I don't know how far he's gone with his exes but I would say he has taken the lead before and he's quite used to speak up and order me around a little, so his behaviour might come from that."

Lace nodded. "I would recommend that you talk to him and try to design a specific plan for the two of you. As I hinted before I have taken lessons on BDSM practices in a club here in the city. I have received almost two years of training and I have taken part as an assistant to a teacher for another two years, that's why I might sound academic and serious. You can stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable or when you need to ask a question." That's when Lace shifted. Her whole position changed: her back got straighter and her hands splayed on the table, somehow squaring her position.

"Okay." Princess confirmed.

"You know that during university I took that course on acrobatic yoga?" Lace asked.

Princess frowned. "Yeah, I remember."

"Well, it wasn't exactly acrobatic yoga." Lace shrugged and raised her eyebrows. "At the beginning I did do some acrobatic yoga lessons but then one of the students introduced me to this BDSM course and I left yoga for… yeah, you know." Lace laughed.

Vixen listened quietly, observing Princess' reaction.

"Would you consider taking lessons from an expert?" Lace asked.

Princess shrugged. "I think that the book was very good on general analysis. Personally, I've never considered meeting an expert mostly because I wouldn't know where to look for one. Plus, I've only had a week to think about this."

Vixen looked at Lace. "I'll be very blunt here, darling. I think that the best thing to do would be discussing the whole book thing with Jimin. Have pre-session negotiations. Discuss stuff. Find out what you want to explore and go there together."

Lace raised an eyebrow. "However, it is perfectly okay if you want to practice by yourself. Being a good dominant means that you can convey control and safety through your stance and behaviour. That requires practice."

Vixen nodded before adding, "It's okay if you want to take some steps by yourself before bringing him into the equation."

"Okay, so I reckon you have quite some knowledge on the theme. Maybe you could teach me something?" Princess asked Lace, a bit shy but fully determined.

Lace smirked. "That's why I came prepared. However, I must remind you I have been a co-trainer, and that doesn't mean I am a teacher, therefore I can only cover the basic stuff, which for now will suffice."

Vixen's eyes burned expectantly.

"Our girl here might help you see stuff through a submissive's eyes, right?" Lace questioned.

Vixen nodded and smiled, reassuring Princess by placing a hand on top of hers.

"Okay. Let's talk about general principles. BDSM is an acronym for Bondage, Domination, Sadism and Masochism. But I guess you read this in the book." Lace presented.

Princess nodded.

"The golden rule is SSC: Safe, Sane, Consensual. Use protection and make sure that you're both tested and clean if you go without a condom or dental dams. Also, keep your toys clean. Do not start anything if your judgement is clouded — by alcohol, drugs or violent, instinctual emotions. Make sure that both you and your partner want the same things. Explain what is going to happen and negotiate before each session — at least for the first few times. This is also the right moment to talk about safe words."

"Me and Jimin covered these already." Princess noted.

“Then you’re already halfway there. The biggest part of training is making people always aware of all the steps that could possibly go wrong and make sure that you’re prepared for the worst case scenario.”

Vixen nodded. “As a sub, it is important to feel safe. An anxious sub is a sub who can hardly feel pleasure, and that invalidates the experience as a whole. We only do it for pleasure.”

Princess listened carefully and thought about it a little. “How… How does it feel…To be a sub? I mean, I’ve sort of subbed with Jimin but… Yeah.”

“Well, I’m leaning-sub. That means I rarely dom, and when I do I’m a power bottom — that thing that Jimin did when he gave you instructions on how to dominate him. Being a sub has a lot to do with feeling cherished and taken care of. Some of us are not comfortable with power and responsibilities. Some of us simply like to be told what to do and please. I like doing what Joon tells me to do and do it perfectly the way he wants it to be done, because I know he will praise me and reward me. I know that he loves me regardless of me doing what he wants, but it pleases me immensely to use my submission to show him how far my trust and love for him go. I feel safe when I'm in his hands. And I like punishment, it helps me deal with guilt. When I make a mistake, I always torture myself with guilt and self-hate, but punishment makes me feel like I've made a mistake and I've paid for it. The point is not the punishment, but rather the forgiveness and the sense of atonement afterwards." Vixen spoke with a composed attitude, however her eyes wandered around nervously, as if trying to avoid meeting the others’ gazes.

"In that case the dominant is supposed to be attentive in terms of how far the submissive pushes themself. A sub looking for forgiveness is a sub willing to go further than normal, which means that they might inadvertently reach their breaking point — which shall never happen." Lace highlighted.

"The golden rule is to always leave hungry. There is a fine line between satiety and nausea. The moment you overstep and reach nausea is the moment your sub might hurt themself." Vixen said, tight lipped.

Princess nodded. "I'm glad we can have this conversation. It's not something I can quite talk about with my friends since the whole situation with the boys is pretty delicate. I had to close some of those friendships to keep Jimin safe. I realised I couldn't trust some of those people and I'm glad I realised before it was too late."

Vixen’s leg started bouncing. “Same with Joon. I don’t have that many friends in the city, mostly because of the time abroad and the fact that all of the friends I had by now are married and/or with kids. I couldn’t trust many of them, but you —” she said, gesturing towards Lace, “and when I introduced you to Namjoon I told him you were one of the most discreet people in the world, because you value your privacy and other people’s privacy because of your, uhm, lessons.”

“It feels good to have someone to share this burden with. I’m pretty scared of the tour.” Vixen looked down. The poised young woman seemed to crumble, giving space to an insecure little creature. “We’ve been dating since last November, but our relationship hasn’t really begun until late February. To be honest I’m terrified.”

Both Lace and Princess reached out for her.

“I’m scared.”

“Have you told him?”

“Yes, he knows.” Vixen sparked up for a minute. “We talk a lot. He always asks me how I feel about things. Lately I’ve been spending all my time away from work with him. It’s been… maybe three days since I last went back to my apartment. And in the last month or so I’ve slept alone maybe three or four nights. I don’t know what I’ll do when he’s away.” Vixen’s eyes welled up with tears before she smiled classily and recomposed herself. “But that’s not relevant.”

“It is, baby.” Princess rubbed her shoulder. “You have my number. You can reach out to me anytime.”

“I’ll be there too, you know. I know I’m not your Big Bear, but I can cook and I’m an excellent vintage movie marathon partner.” Lace rubbed the other shoulder, catching the few tears that had fallen. This was a further confirmation that Namjoon was the right man for Vixen: he had reached out to Lace a few weeks after they had been introduced, asking her if it was cool if he asked her updates on Vixen during the tour, mostly because he knew she would put up her strong, charming face in front of him, but secretly she would be worrying over his absence. That brought them close; it felt good to create this safety net for Vixen and it felt even better to know her in the hands of a man worthy of her, attentive despite his busy schedule and strong work ethic.

“Thank you, girls. That’s really sweet of you.”

“You’re the one who made this possible,” said Princess, gesturing to the three of them sitting at the table together. “I owe you. And I reckon this is a good time to make amends for not making friends with you in high school.” Princess laughed. “We’ll all need each other. We could have a group chat with Jin’s girlfriend too. Plus Jimin mentioned Yoongi is seeing someone.”

“Yes, Namjoon mentioned too. I’ve heard she’s a lawyer. He’s got this insanely huge crush on her.” Vixen giggled. “I haven’t met her yet but I’ve heard they were supposed to go out tonight.”

“Maybe we’ll see her at the next gathering.” Princess wondered. “I must admit I’m curious.”

“I am too.”

Lace felt a bit out of the conversation. “Me and Taehyung have been texting.”

Vixen blinked and turned to her. “What?” She had this face that read perfect confusion. “How long? And you’ve never told me? I mean, I gave him your number but I didn’t—”

“It’s because I haven’t been really taking him into consideration until recently.” Lace replied. “Normally I would reply to him with small texts, just to avoid sounding rude.”

“You mean to tell me you have Taehyung wrapped around your little finger — Kim Heartthrob Taehyung — and you weren’t even interested? Have you been doing drugs too?” Vixen looked outraged. “Fucking insane.” She shook her head.

“You know me. I value my privacy. Do you know how fucking un-private it is to potentially date that man? What if they find out about my extracurriculars?” Lace pointed out.

Vixen exhaled and formed a tight-lipped smile.

“Don’t give me the disappointed mom look.” Lace replied. “Plus I’m the same age as you, you have no right to turn judgemental.”

“Of course.” Vixen nodded. “Your safety first, love.”

“It’s just that I want to, but I can barely imagine how fucked up that could be.”

Princess breathed out. “Jimin and I have been extremely private about us and me being so close to the press means I am risking so much.” Princess opened her arms wide. “But it would take a catastrophe to take him away from me.”

“Give him a chance. Tell him about everything outright and let him choose. He’ll take his chance. Don’t choose for him.” Vixen pointed out. “That’s how I did with Joon. We talked and clearly said ‘this is what I need and what I can give, can you comply? Are you okay with it?’ It’s a bit of a bet, but I think the prospect of gain outweighs the actual risk of it.”

Lace nodded. “And then there’s the tour.”

Vixen and Princess nodded. Vixen tried to keep her insecurity and jealousy at bait. All those girls drooling over him, all those female staff members travelling with him. She propped her elbows on the table and pressed her forehead against her palms, her lovely hair falling forward.

Princess, sitting beside her, rubbed her back. “What if you just give him one date. Tell him your situation both about your, uhm— hobby and your emotional state. I’m sure he will understand. His emotional intelligence is impressive.” Princess stated, nodding, her hand still rubbing Vixen’s spine.

“He’s the kind of man I would gladly be a sucker for.” Lace explained. “I knew I was a dom since I was eighteen, but Jesus, I know I would sub for him.” Vixen seemed to awaken at that comment. “I’ve seen his stages. He is insane.” Lace bit her lip. “But I need time to trust him. And it would feel useless to get cosy with him only to have him leave for the tour.”

“Just tell him.” Vixen encouraged her. “He will surely work with you on a compromise.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Are you okay?” Lace checked in on Vixen.

“Yup. Just a sudden jealousy rush.”

Lace frowned. “He would never. Don’t worry about that.” Lace cocked her head to the side. “He worships the ground you step on.”

“Girls throw thems—”

“He throws himself at you.” Lace remarked. “Plus he loves you. You love him. That’s all that matters. He gave you the passcode to his house, basically made you move in, what else do you need? I bet he’d gladly handcuff himself to you if you asked kindly enough.” Lace joked.

“Scratch that ‘kindly enough’. He’d cuff himself to you without you even asking.” Princess remarked.

“Can we move back to the BDSM introductory lessons?” Vixen asked, shaking her head, but with a tiny smile on her face.

Lace saw that was a good sign. Princess smiled beside her. “Okay, I’ll go with my request. I know I told you I wanted to get to know more of impact play and if we could focus on that...”

“Yes, I get where you’re headed. Let’s get it. But we’ll need a clean table for this.” Lace explained.

“Let’s do this.” Princess stood up from the table, beginning to clean up everything. It took the girls only a couple minutes to get rid of dirty dishes, empty boxes, the glasses and the soju. Even the fruit basket the guests had bought was moved on the kitchen counter.

“Do you have any sanitizer, perhaps?” Lace asked.

“Isn’t it better if we move to the sofa?” Suggested Vixen. “Use the coffee table?”

Princess shrugged. “Same to me.”

Lace nodded convincedly. “Let’s prep the coffee table. Sorry for the main table.”

Princess shrugged. “Needed to clean it anyways.”

A few minutes later the girls were all sitting around the coffee table, Lace’s bag placed at her side while Vixen occupied her other side, Princess sitting in front of them.

“Let’s do an impact play in depth analysis. What you need is one — a dom, two — a sub, three — optional, — supplies.” Lace listed. “Let’s go a bit at a time. First, the dom. A dom must be sober, lucid. No alcohol, drugs, and most importantly, no impulsive, instinctual emotions. If you’re furious, don’t go there. Violent emotions can cloud your judgement. Don’t let those lead you. Of course you might be angry or aroused, but that must not take the lead. If your anger makes you want to give them fifty spanks, but normally your sub can take twenty, you can negotiate maybe twenty-five. Be judicious, never hungry.”

“Good.” Said Princess, focusing on every single one of Lace’s words.

“Once you’re sure you’re in a coherent, calm mindset, you should negotiate with your sub. Remember: safe, sane, consensual. Safe, in this case, involves that your supplies are clean and cannot hurt your sub, both in terms of cleanliness and state of use. Check for loose threads, scratches on leather that could possibly host bacteria or dirt, splinters in case of wooden devices, porous surfaces. We’ll talk about this more accurately in the supplies section. Sane means to check your mindset and your sub’s mindset. Same rules as before: no alcohol, drugs, violent emotions.”

Vixen made eye contact with Lace, silently requesting permission to speak. “Small note on that, may I?”

Lace nodded.

“Your sub might come to you while being emotionally unstable. They might need you for comfort or atonement. Make sure to heal that emotionally before dealing with it sexually. It means to discuss what caused the upset state of mind in order to identify the real entity of the problem, correct the perception of it and negotiate the atonement.”

“Excellent point.” Replied Lace.

Vixen smiled cutely.

“Can I have an example?” Asked Princess with a frown.

“Of course. Let’s say I fucked up at work, I booked the wrong artwork and the artwork they wanted is no longer available. I manage to find an alternative but I somehow feel like I let down my client. I go home and I am scolding myself because I didn’t deliver what was asked of me. My dom may spot my disappointment or may recognise self-punishment. Also, I might explicitly tell my dom I am not feeling well due to a sense of guilt. This leads to my dom asking me why I am upset or why I am punishing myself. I — along other perfectionists like Jimin — tend to overestimate my mistakes, making them a bigger deal than what they actually are. My dom corrects my perspective through objective analysis, underlines my successful abilities in dealing with the issue and suggests potential improvements on those things I didn’t manage to solve. Perfectionists have a strict inner judge that scolds them and punishes them. Therefore their psych is divided into victim and punisher. This fracture obviously causes discomfort. The dom’s goal is to heal this fracture, especially since the perfectionist’s “punisher” side — so to say — is very strict and usually overestimates the damage and subsequently overestimates the punishment. After correcting the perception of the mistake, the dom gives an appropriate price for atonement.”

“So the goal is to stop the guilt trip mechanism?” Princess asked.

“Yes.” Vixen confirmed. “But this is just one kind of spanking. There are other cases. It can be educational or simply sexual. Educational is when the dom corrects the sub’s behaviour because they violated a rule or an order. In that case it’s mostly dom-initiated—”

“Unless the sub willingly misbehaved to earn a punishment.” Lace added.

“That sounds Jimin.” Princess commented, rubbing her forehead.

Vixen smiled widely.

“That’s not funny, you brat!” Lace scolded her.

“When you find your sub willingly misbehaving, you should talk to them very clearly. Usually they do it to attract attention. Ignoring them might hurt them or bring them to further misbehaviour, which can turn dangerous. I normally recommend conversation.” Lace explained. “Pay attention to them and ask why they broke the rule, what they were trying to get out of it. You can give them the punishment they were asking for — for example if your sub disobeyed because it earns them spanks and they like spanks, you can either give them spanks or punish them with something that they really don’t like, for example edging.”

Princess nodded. “That’s interesting, thank you.”

“Any remark, Vixen?”

She shrugged. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What about sexual spanks?” Princess questioned.

“Those can be incorporated into foreplay. Some people are simply aroused by pain.” Vixen shrugged. “It puts the sub into a vulnerable position, and it underlines a power imbalance. It makes the sub feel smaller, powerless — or almost so — and sometimes humiliated.” Vixen explained.

“Exactly. I would add that it stimulates the circulation of blood to the pelvis region, which means that skin is more sensitive, arousal increases and the whole perception intensifies. It builds trust and sometimes, according to personal history of each sub, it can send them back to childhood memories, mimicking the power imbalance between child and adult who disciplined them. It has strong disciplinary and educational value, back to the punishment scene.”

“Oh, about punishment!” Vixen exclaimed. “We forgot the most important part of it all. But it refers to all sorts of spanking, to be true. Negotiation. Once you have identified the fault, tell your sub how many hits there will be, how you will deliver them and with which instrument, which position they will have to assume. Repeat safewords. Make sure that they agree fully to every detail of the spanking. If they do not agree to some parts, ask to find a compromise, a middle ground between your and their needs. Once you have the green light, you can talk your sub through the whole experience as the scene actually develops. Once you are done with the scene, say a code phrase that means that the scene has finished.”

“Okay, me and Jimin did this stuff our first time trying this.” Princess confirmed.

“Wonderful. Was it a positive experience? Did you have any uncertainties, questions?”

“It was a very positive experience, both in mine and his opinion. We talked it out the morning after, since I preferred to have some time to elaborate my personal feelings about the scene”

“That’s okay. As a dom you can experience mixed feelings, especially after a first scene, with activities that are usually misjudged by society”. Lace explained, gently patting Princess’ hand on top of the table.

“I think that Jimin’s positive reaction and guidance helped me feeling positive about the whole scene. He was truly supportive through all of it.” Princess smiled softly.

“That’s a good partner. Both for life and for play”. Lace smiled herself, glad that Princess’ first experience went well.

“There were very deep emotions of care and support and love during the whole scene. A kind of affection and vulnerability I had never experienced with anyone else. I hope I can go there again with him, but next time I want to be more reliable and secure and experienced. I thought that a general introduction, especially about supplies, could help me, since Jimin was interested in that.”

“Okay, let’s just finish the general intro. We were saying safe, sane and consensual. Safe means toys, safewords and aftercare supplies. Sane means both parties know what they’re doing, the dom is aware of the sub’s mental space. Consensual means negotiation about number of blows, technique, position and eventually toys. Make sure that your sub always knows about the motive of the spanking. The natural response, especially to pain, is ‘why’. Make sure they know. Eventually, remind them. Once more remind them of safewords and the final sentence.”

“Do not ever stop unless they safeword.” Vixen said. “If they repeatedly tell you to stop, remind them they have their safewords if they want to. As a sub I’ve said both ‘stop’ and ‘why’ at least a hundred time during a spanking. ‘Stop’ and similar are pretty recurrent. Just say ‘You know your safeword, love’. If they really need them, they will use them, trust me. Just remind them all the time. You could maybe need to slow down, make sure that they aren’t panicking and they do actually remember their words.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Lace confirmed before turning to Vixen. “Have you been studying?” She joked.

“I’ve been reading lately.” Vixen confirmed, with a very happy smile on her face.

Lace mirrored her expression. She knew Vixen had been pushed into quitting BDSM activities by her ex boyfriend. Knowing that she was finally back to something she liked, something she was comfortable with made her happy. “I’m glad you’re back on track, sweetie.”

“Thank you.” Vixen closed the small exchange with Lace.

“Once a scene is closed, your sub might have different responses. They might ask to be left alone. In that case, make sure that healing supplies are ready for their self care. Remind them to check for abrasions. If the skin is damaged on a surface level — that means it is not only bruised, but also broken — you will need disinfectant and probably band aids.” Lace explained.

“But that happens rarely, right?” Vixen asked.

“With average spanking, that is quite rare. Normally you need specific instruments specifically meant to cause abrasions.”

“Like canes and spiked toys?”

“Yes, but not only those. I’ve seen pretty heavy damage caused by an apparently regular flogger.” Lace commented, shuddering at the memory.

Vixen blinked, a bit shocked. “Okay, back to aftercare.”

“Yeah,” said Princess, exhaling and looking away.

“So, unless your sub wants you to leave, you stay around. Provide for them. Rub lotion first. Some subs store specific lotion for this kind of stuff. To ease the burn, the sting, or lessen the bruises.”

Vixen interrupted. “I must say, most of us like the bruises and the reminder-sting, so they don’t really do much about it. Still, it depends on how far you’ve gone and how the sub feels. Usually, my favourites are a cold cloth, lotion and if I went particularly far maybe a painkiller. Normally herbal lotion and muscle relaxant are an excellent solution. They’re softer and safer, especially since you never know how a sub might react to medicines. As usual, make sure that whatever you use on them is safe. Let them prepare their usual medication. Make sure you have plenty of time to ascertain that they are emotionally stable. Do not leave them alone unless they request so, and tendentially it is good etiquette to stay in proximity, in case they change their mind.”

“Thank you so much for all the head ups.” Princess said, true gratitude shining all over her face. “I feel more comfortable knowing that we followed those lines during the first time too. It’s not something absurd. Youjust really need to use your common sense.”

Vixen nodded. “Being smart sure helps, but it’s not everything. You can only truly learn it by making it a routine.”

“You mean practice?” Princess questioned.

Lace nodded. “Yes. Once you actually start practicing, you’ll immediately find out your forte and potential weaknesses. Be comfortable with those: you can ask us or look it up on the guide, or on BDSM blogs. I can send you reliable sources, if need be. I would say you can reach out to my dungeon, it is a safe and discreet environment, but I fully understand your position, and I get that you might prefer to have a private approach to this. You can eventually book personal appointments with an expert. Those normally include non-disclosure agreements and Jimin could be protected from the public eye, as far as it can go.” Lace explained. “We have had many, many clients who have requested so. It would be perfectly normal.”

Princess thought about it and nodded. “I’ll discuss it with Jimin.”

“Perfect. As you can see the key to this is communication.”

“Indeed.” Confirmed Princess.

“Now, let’s get down to the actual business.” Lace opened the bag but left all the contents inside. “Impact play can happen on different parts of the body. Vixen?” Lace called.

Vixen stood up gingerly.

“Tie your hair, doll.” Lace reminded her.

The woman fished a ribbon from her pocket and did a soft ponytail.

“Good. I’ll show you.” Lace fished out a long, silky bag from her weekender; untying the ribbon, she pushed her hand in and extracted a long stick. A cane, Princess corrected herself.

Lace didn’t pay much attention. Its purpose was that of a pointing stick at that moment. “Number one, the derrière.” Vixen turned and Lace let the wooden instrument hover over the girl’s ass. “You know what to do to hit here?”

“Find the tailbone and place your non-dominant hand over it to protect it. Alternate sides, rub between a spank and another. Hit the lower region, far from the nerves up high. Where the flesh swells, that’s where I can hit. Also the back of the thighs.”

“Excellent. That’s all.” Lace congratulated. “Other spots are the back of the legs, more precisely the back of the knees and the calves. However, knees are delicate, so you can only deliver delicate blows with a restricted selection of toys. I would not recommend it. The back of the calves also offer a limited selection of toys, but it is slightly safer to go there. Still, the surface is limited and the knees and ankles are close. The risk of missing your target is high. Since you’re a beginner I would not go there.”

Princess nodded. “What kind of toys can I use?”

“We’ll cover that later. For now let’s just run through anatomy.” Lace answered calmly. “Are you good, Vixen?”

“Yup.” The other replied.

“Perfect. Turn to your side profile.” Lace asked and Vixen quickly provided.

Lace pressed the cane in a line connecting the peaks of each of Vixen’s glutes. “From here—” she moved all the way down to her mid thighs “— to here it’s good. The peak to the midthigh.”

“Great. Got it.” Princess replied. “There are other places? Like…?”

“Would you like to talk?” Lace asked Vixen. “You're the expert.”

“May I?” She asked.

“Of course, sweetie. You’re the expert in this.”

Princess raised an eyebrow at the comment, but still she stayed focused. To say she was intrigued was a big understatement.

Vixen’s sweet voice began speaking. “Other than the backside, as we’ve just mentioned, there are other spots that can be involved in impact play. While the back of the thighs and the butt can stand harsher beatings with almost all toys intended for impact play, other areas are more sensitive, more delicate or consist in a smaller expanse of skin, therefore they shall be treated differently. Both the palms and the back of the hands, just like the soles of the feet can be involved, especially when matched with instruments with a smaller surface of beating, like a slapper, a riding crop and a cane — for example. They shall be treated lightly, since they have lots of nerve endings, bones and tendons exposed.”

“What’s a leather strap?” Princess asked.

Lace lifted a finger as a sign to wait, before digging her other hand in her bag and extracting a small device, of maybe twentyish centimetres of length and five or six of width; she placed it on the table to let Princess observe it. “Handle and slappers.” She pointed. “Very noisy, actually pretty innocuous. The leather bits slap against each other and create a single impact that sounds like a double.”

“It sounds scary, though.” Vixen noted. It always made her blood curl in her veins, the heavy smack turning into a torturous feel as the hit didn’t match the noise. Fear worked, but the sensation didn’t. It was not something she liked, usually.

Lace nodded. “I haven’t used it much. Usually people like the cane on the back of the hands. Because of old school punishments.” Lace explained.

“Right. Thanks.” Princess nodded.

Vixen waited for a sign before moving on. Once she had both women’s attention, she proceeded. ”Thighs are generally all good, if they’re fleshy and plump enough. Make sure that you don’t go too hard when hitting close to private parts. While a vulva can handle a fair bit, the penis is generally more delicate in the structure. Thighs can handle all toys, just like the ass. Paddles, slappers, straps, riding crops, whips and canes. For private parts I recommend the riding crop.” Vixen smiled politely.

Princess interrupted. “The strap is that kind of… like?” She gestured a long and thin rectangle with her hands, looking for words.

“It looks like a belt bent in two, with a handle. Maybe I have it…” She rummaged in her bag. “No. Sorry. I think I left it at home.”

Princess waved her hands. “Don’t worry, that’s okay, I think I visualised it pretty well.” She smiled. “There’s more?” Princess said, marvelled as Vixen began talking again.

“Well, yes. Oh, first a small warning — before I forget. You must absolutely stay away from the belly and the stomach. Same for the lower back.” Vixen showed the various spots on her body with precise gestures of her hands. “Too many vulnerable organs left unprotected there.” She took a small pause and then moved on.

“Some people can handle hits on their shoulders and upper back, where the internal organs are protected by the ribcage and other bone structures; however I would talk with a professional about that kind of scene since you need to flawlessly master advanced equipment — people tendentially use whips and similar, or the strap.” Vixen stopped for a second, looking at Lace as if asking whether she had anything more to ask. Lace shook her head, inviting the other woman to proceed.

“Now, about delicate parts: some people like being slapped in the face, but then again, that must be clearly stated in the negotiations. I’d say you should only use hands, but maybe I’m projecting.”

“In four years, I’ve only used and seen other use hands. Also, riding crops, but usually that’s just to direct head movements or to pat the face, rather than slapping it.”

Vixen nodded. “Great. About interesting stuff, nipples can be gently stimulated with small, very delicate pats. Riding crops are excellent for this use. Also slappers. Maybe canes in some cases.” — Lace did a so-and-so motion with her head. Vixen continued, — “Some people can go very hard on nipples and technically — just like with the butt — women who have bigger breasts can stand more intense stimulation”.

“Oh, that yes. You can use, as usual, riding crops, but also paddles, straps and whips — if you’re experienced.” Lace added.

Princess nodded with an interested expression. She could mention that to Jimin. Imagining him with a riding crop, standing at the side of the bed, rubbing the leather bit against her nipples before whipping them harshly had her losing focus for a second, taking in a big breath and biting her lip.

Vixen grinned. She could practically read the other woman’s thoughts. “For women with smaller breasts and men, I would say to stay on the more gentle side for the first few sessions and eventually — once you know each other and once you know your sub’s pain threshold — you can get more heavy-handed, so to say. As I said before female private parts can handle pretty harsh whippings, especially since arousal tends to make the labia plumper and therefore protect the skin better. Still, you should start slow and work your way up. Male crotch area is a lot more delicate, however the shaft can take a medium-intense whipping. I recommend riding crops and small leather straps.”

Lace raised her eyebrows at Vixen with a proud grin. “Nothing to add. This should be all.”

“Wow.” Princess was a bit excited. If Jimin had looked that good with a few spanks, she could only imagine what he would do once she got more experienced and learned what actually drove him crazy.

“That’s a lot of stuff, I know.” Lace reassured her.

“I’m actually excited. Like, it sounds very interesting. There’s a lot of trust and knowing each other. I really like that. I think it brings the partners very close.”

Vixen nodded. “It does.”

Princess bit her lip. “I don’t want to pry but… Do you do all of that?” She looked at Vixen with a slight blush.

The woman giggled. “Not anymore, no.” She took a meditative pause, like she was reminiscing something. It felt strange that a girl so young could feel so old every now and then. That dark cloud that obscured Vixen’s doll-like traits disappeared, leaving only a fond grin in tow. “Now I do the bits I like best.” She grinned.

Lace looked at her with a bit of worry before smiling again.

“Before we actually start with tools I need to make sure that you know all you need about aftercare and drops.” Lace said seriously.

“Yes, please.” Princess said. “May I recap what we said about aftercare?”

“Yes, sure.” Lace invited her.

“Prepare the stuff before. Check for abrasions: if there are, then disinfectant and band aids. Next cold cloth, lotion and eventually painskiller. Use medicines that my sub takes regularly. Make sure that they’re okay emotionally. If they want me to leave, I do, but I stay close.”

“Amazing. Quick learner.” Lace cheered.

“Those were also in the book.” Princess commented, diminishing her feat. “Plus I did it already. Sort of.”

“I’ve seen people take weeks to put all of that together. You did a good job, stop doubting yourself.” Lace corrected her. God, these two insecure creatures would be the death of her.

“Aftercare is not only physical, but mostly emotional. If your sub wants you close, cuddle them. Jimin looks like the type to want cuddles and reassurance afterwards. Make sure you give plenty. Would you like to explain the drop Vixen?”

“Yes, of course.” Vixen intervened before addressing Princess. “I always like to talk about this subject because it can affect anyone, without any need to get involved in BDSM. ًWhen experiencing an orgasm, our bodies produce an incredible quantity of hormones that make us literally ecstatic. What happens sometimes, especially after long or intense scenes is that our bodies get high on these hormones, experiencing a sense of withdrawal once the rush is over. Such withdrawal, so to say, can cause pretty intense sadness that can lead to numbness, indifference, or even hate and depressive or aggressive behaviours. A good way to slow down this sadness is providing the body with other hormones that usually calm us and relax us. Cuddles and sugars usually are a good way to help the body produce oxytocin — commonly named ‘the hormone of happiness’. It’s the same hormone that spikes when mothers are breastfeeding their babies.” Vixen smiled fondly.

“This is incredible.” Princess said, completely amused. “So cuddles heal both the sub and the dom, I assume.”

“I think so, yes. Usually I’m the cuddler while Joon is the cuddlee during aftercare. Both subs and doms can experience the drop since both suffer the shift in hormones. It’s really about mutual care. Usually though, there are people who suffer more.” Vixen commented.

Lace spoke shyly. “Once I went so hard on a sub that I felt awful with myself after the scene was done.” Lace said. The silence felt heavy, like in some part of her mind Lace was still seeing that scene. “Usually the dom is expected to give the sub water, sweets and a cozy blanket — water for the body fluids, sweets for rebalancing the sugars after an intense effort and the blanket for emotional safety. I remember that one time the sub used the aftercare kit on me. It took me almost an hour to get back on a neutral state of mind.” It was Lace’s turn to be comforted. As Vixen rubbed her friend’s back, Princess spoke.

“So I might experience guilt and sadness afterwards and that’s normal?”

As Lace was still thinking, Vixen spoke up. “It happens, though usually, if your partner reassures you and supports you properly, you should be able to deal with it together with quite some ease. I myself have shouted slurs at my dom in the past during punishment, but that is because pain or anger make you do that. I may have sent him into a drop once, and since that time I always make sure that I praise and cuddle my dom once the scene is over. It’s important that you remind yourself that what is said during an intense scene is due to the sub’s sensations in that moment, therefore you shouldn’t give it much importance. Still, once you have your post-session chat you have every right to say ‘that hurt me, please don’t do that again’. It’s etiquette.” Vixen said with a serious note.

Princess nodded. “So cuddles, water, sweets and a good comfort blanket.”

“Normally, yes.” Vixen replied. “Sometimes shower or bath together, wash your partner clean or have them wash you. For some people physical cleanliness is also spiritual cleanliness. It eases the mind from whatever ‘dirty thing’ you’ve done during the scene. The rest is really what you would normally do during self-care, but with your sub. Facemask? Junk food? Lotion? Massage? Tea? Whatever you like as long as you do it with affection.”

Princess nodded. “This is really helpful. I just need to do anything that Jimin likes, and do it with him.”

“Yes, if he wants you close — which I assume he does, knowing the two of you.” Vixen smiled.

Lace added her own contribution. “If possible, remember to schedule a post-session chat. Whenever it feels comfortable. Normally you wait until all parties have fully recovered before saying ‘let’s talk about it together’, but some subs are already okay talking about it during aftercare. Just make sure that you know how your sub felt about the stuff that you did together, and that you tell them how you felt yourself. This is not one-sided. Power imbalance is limited to the scene: once you’re done, You’re equal again — that’s why a final sentence is necessary. It breaks the power imbalance and repristinates equality. All parties are equally entitled to support and communication.” Lace said, making sure that Princess grasped the concept. That’s where most couples went wrong: communicating.

“Thank you girls.” Princess said gently. “Thank you for the insights, and for your personal experiences.”

“You’re welcome.” Lace said heartily before grinning. “Now, let’s discuss supplies.”

Vixen cheered with a small ‘yes’ at which Lace replied murmuring ‘painslut’, chuckling playfully.

“Let’s start with these.” Lace showed her hands, letting the sleeves of her shirt fall a little, exposing her wrists. “These are your main instruments.” She showed the palms, then the backs. “You can use them everywhere. You can use your whole palm, flat, for a sting and cupped for a thud.”

“What’s that?” Princess asked.

“Vixen.” Lace called.

“A sting is when it prickles and bites, a thud is when it reverberates and goes deeper. You go with a quick, fleeting swat when you go for a sting—the palm must be flat and there must be a bit of wrist game. To deliver a thud, you should let your hand cup slightly and hit hard, keeping your hand pressed where you hit. It’s a matter of angle and speed.” Vixen replied readily, as if she were being asked what is two and two.

Princess grinned and nodded. “I see. Jimin mentioned something about it, but I don’t remember clearly. Which one hurts the most?” Princess asked Vixen.

“Well, it depends. It’s a different kind of pain and it depends on one’s sensitivity. Personally I prefer thuds, because usually it’s the muscle taking most of the impact, in case of traditional, over-the-knee butt spankings. Stings make my eyes water a little, because it hits a smaller area of skin with more pressure. But it really depends on what your sub feels.”

“It is all in the way it is delivered.” Lace stated.

Vixen bit her lip, nodding, and moved on.

“Hands can be also used to slap the face, as we said,— that should be especially clarified during negotiation — but also nipples and genitalia. Also, thighs, calves, hands and feet — though in some cases they might be too mild. Always remember that it is good manners to try the toys on yourself first, especially if it’s a toy you’ve never used before. Get familiar with its weight and density and grip, so you know how it affects you before affecting your sub. Make sure to start slow and eventually intensify, always asking your sub if they’re okay in the first place. Be careful with your sub’s pain threshold: since you don’t have direct perception of how much you’re hurting them, try to increase force and pattern a bit at a time.” Lace explained.

Princess felt sure about the directions. Common sense and the guide told her the same things, which reassured her about the fact that she would remember all the complicated passages. Sure, it would be easier to have an actual practical exercise.

But for now she would make do.

“You ready for the next?”

“Yes.” Vixen replied.

Lace tutted. “The question was not meant for you, menace.” She said, reprimanding a grinning Vixen.

Princess cackled. “Sure.”

Lace picked up another object from her bag. “Here we have a paddle. It can have different shapes and textures. Some contain small indentations, or even spikes. The main features are the handle.” She showed the part. “And a flat surface, used to hit the sub. In terms of tenacity and resistance, mine has a hardwood interior covered in a leather exterior. Oh, and it’s branded.” She showed a red leather heart sewn onto the black leather cover. “It leaves a mark.” Lace smiled cutely. “Best used on wide, fleshy surfaces. Questions?”

Princess shook her head. “Oh, yeah. How much is it?”

Lace twisted the object in her hands. “A good one is around thirty five thousand won or so. If you want something that lasts and that is actually covered in true leather, the price might be higher. I could recommend a shop that sells excellent gear.”

“Thank you. Also, you said it comes in different shapes.”

“Yes. A dom in my dungeon has a pretty extravagant one in a cherry shape.”

“With a double sting?” Vixen asks, eyes almost glittering.

“Yup.”

“Amazing. I had spotted it once but I never bought it. Maybe I’ll have it commissioned.” She mused.

“Joon would?” Lace asked, eyebrows raised.

Vixen shrugged. “I just need to be good — or bad — enough.”

“See, darling, this is a brat.” Lace addressed Princess, pointing at the other girl in the room. “Their anatomy is five percent manners, five percent playfulness and ninety percent utterly smart evil.”

Vixen smiled before cocking her head to the side prettily. “Yes, that’s me.”

Princess bit her lip and smiled. Vixen was a lot more interesting than she thought. All those cute manners and polished looks could not entirely shade the dark magnetism of her eyes. She would pay good money to see what ruckus she could cause with Namjoon in the bedroom. And it would be even more interesting to see what poised, calm Lace could do to teach her how to behave.

Lace put her paddle down before fishing something else from inside her bag. “For tonight let’s cover only the basics. I’ll keep more lowkey devices for another time. Or maybe I could show you what I have and you ask me about what looks interesting to you.”

Princess nodded. “That would be lovely. Plus I’m sure you’ll have to get back to Joon since he’ll want to see you before they leave tomorrow.” Princess asked Vixen.

“I don’t know if I’ll see him— oh, that one looks lovely!” She said, looking at a riding crop from Lace’s collection and distracting herself with it. “Yeah, I told him he should stay at the dorms and rest. His week has been hectic with all the briefings for the press conferences and tv shows.” Vixen explained as she picked up the crop, studying the red, heart-shaped bit.

“Yeah, I figure. Jimin and I are meeting for an early breakfast tomorrow, before they leave.” Princess explained.

Vixen’s fleeting gaze moved away. She seemed visibly unsettled. Still, her mood changed once more as she collected Lace’s paddle from the coffee table, the other woman not even noticing one of her devices had attracted Vixen’s attention.

Vixen rolled it in her palm a couple times, shifting it to feel the weight distribution and the texture.

Princess looked at how she studied the object, carefully taking in every detail. Vixen’s perfectionism showed in that exact moment, in the undisturbed, slow way she felt every ridge and stitch with her fingers. If she could think of an adjective it was ‘thorough’, in the first place. ‘Sensual’ in the second.

Raising an eyebrow and biting her lip, Vixen opened her free hand, lifted the paddle and delivered a heavy thwack.

A shiver ran down Princess’s spine. She could almost feel how Jimin would moan after a smack like that.

Lace turned around, looking at Vixen. “Like it?”

Vixen simply nodded with a wicked smile. “Do you know what wood it is?”

“Not sure, possibly birch or cherry tree. Soft wood but very elastic.” Lace sat upright as she was done taking out all of her collection.

“And the leather is splinter-proof.” Vixen commented.

Lace hummed in confirmation. “See anything interesting, Princess?”

Princess creased her brow. “What about the riding crop?”

Vixen smiled mischievously as Lace wrapped her palm around the handle, lifting the object. “Here. This is a personal riding crop. It has been commissioned specifically for me. It’s my favourite and somehow my brand.” She smiled fondly as she studied it. “However, I would say one should never grow fond of a vulnerable thing such as a riding crop. They break fairly easily. Anyway — the general traits of a riding crop are the shaft, the handle and the tip. In terms of length, I normally recommend minimum sixty centimeters, to increase flexibility and impact strength. The shaft should be elastic, but not too much or it loses impact strength and a submissive usually doesn’t want the whoosh without the smash.”

Vixen giggled at her side.

“What is that?” Princess asked, frowning.

Opening her palm, Lace calculated the distance and whipped the leather bit hard against the soft flesh at the base of the thumb. Princess clearly recognised the sound of air whistling before she hit her skin with a thin clap. “That’s what I meant.”

Princess nodded with eager eyes, keeping an amused silence.

“Fiberglass is a good material for beginners. If you’re buying one in person — which I recommend for the first time — make sure that it can make a forty-five degree angle when you bend the tip towards the handle. A forty to fifty degrees with a fair amount of resistance means it’s flexible enough, just make sure that it’s not too close to the breaking point. The handle is normally made of leather or very good rubber to improve the grip. Some cheap riding crops — also, the ones not intended for BDSM purposes — come with a strap to slip your wrist into. I recommend you don’t use the strap or that you remove it completely because first, you shouldn’t need it and second, you should avoid everything that keeps you from interrupting the scene and comforting your sub as quickly as possible. Sometimes even a couple seconds can be very important when it comes to subdrop. Remember this at all time, in all scenes. Remove everything that could keep you from helping your sub.”

“Okay. But if my riding crop falls?”

Lace smiled darkly. “Trust me dear, you’ll hold on to that as if it were the sceptre of England.” Princess laughed. “And if it falls, it’s usually a sign of poor mastering of your tools. Train yourself. You can use a dense pillow to learn the variety of strokes that a crop can deliver. It can be used for sensation play, simply rubbing your sub’s skin, caressing it, spending some time to arouse them before the whipping starts—”

Vixen purred at that.

Princess thought of Jimin biting his plump lips, eyelids fluttering at the gentle touch of the leather tickling his body.

“Are you with me?” Lace called for Princess’ attention, an amused grin on her face. Lace almost wanted to congratulate her for staying focused for so long.

“Yeah, just — thinking.”

Lace exhaled and wore a grin on her face. “I get that. Let me just finish this and we can take a pause. The tip is the important part of the crop. Mine has a fancy, heart-shaped tip, however, the best standard ones have triangular or rectangular tips that are a couple fingers wide on the very tip and restrict around the head of the stick.”

“Sounds nice.” Princess said.

“It is.” Vixen mused. “As Lace said, riding crops aren’t excessively difficult to use, if one has the patience to learn the basics and take some time to experiment. They can offer plenty of freedom to the dom in terms of use since they can be incredibly harsh, but also extremely light and gentle. You can use them on most spanking areas: breasts and nipples, feet, thighs, ass, shoulders and genitals, both male and female. Also the face, if you’re being light-handed enough.”

“Jesus, you’re wicked.” Lace snickered.

Vixen shrugged. “Says you.”

Princess looked at the exchange quite amused. “Okay. I think I got it. Oh, isn’t that a flogger?”

“Yes, it is. But that is for your sophomore lessons. For now, let’s stick to the beginner deals.” Lace said, slowing down Princess’ enthusiasm.

“Oh.” The other answered, taken aback.

“The bigger the toy, the more difficult it is to use it. Floggers, also called multi-tailed whips, are unpredictable because the whips are really flexible, usually made of leather, and very light. You must have excellent wrist flexibility and great spatial awareness. Once you can use your crop with your eyes closed, then you can consider learning the basics of flogging.”

“Okay. I assume canes and that fancy thing over there are off-limit too.” Princess noticed.

“Isn’t that a cat-o-nine-tales?” Vixen said, wide eyed. “It’s been years since I last saw one. Since my training.” Vixen shivered. “He had silver studs on the tips.”

“Did he ever use it on you?” Lace asked, very serious.

“Once. I didn’t speak to him for a week afterwards.” Vixen said, gaze empty. “I’ve never seen one like that in my life, though. Are those flowers?”

“Yes.They have a silver bead in the middle with some petals around it. The effect is very unusual, or so I’ve been told.” Lace answered with a chuckle. “It was a gift from one of my students. Lovely girl. Kinkier than hell.” Lace smiled and took the toy. “See. Those are meant to hurt. Mark or scar even, in some cases.” She showed the appendage to Princess.

“I don’t like that.” She replied with tiny hesitance.

“The cane is also a vicious one.” Lace suggested.

“The first time I safeworded was with a cane.” Vixen said with a meditative smile. “It hurts like hell. Normally I can take around forty to fifty spanks. I couldn’t handle ten with a cane.”

“I don’t think I like that either. My favourite so far are the paddle and the riding crop. I think Jimin likes the paddle, or at least the idea of it. The riding crop is… for personal reasons.”

“Excellent choice.” Lace grabbed a glass of water and drank, easing her mouth and throat after all the talking. “A riding crop can really gratify a dom at their first experience. You can study it, if you want to.” Lace encouraged Princess to hold the toy and look at it from up close.

Princess thanked her before lifting the crop from the table. “It’s very light.”

“Indeed. It’s a lot lighter than a paddle, that’s why it’s a personal favourite to most female doms. Plus it can be used to praise and to punish, making it a tool of great versatility.”

Princess studied the handle, with a thick leather band wrapped around the stick to grant a good grip. Lace, previously standing, bent down behind Princess. “The leather has been treated so to reduce any slipping.” She corrected Princess’ grip around the handle, placing her hand wrapped tight around it and fixing her thumb. “Like this.” Next, she placed the tip on the flat of the opposite hand. “Always make sure that there are no loose stitches here. Make sure that the spot where the tip meets the stick isn’t rough or hard or juts out in a way that could cut the skin.” She fingered the spot, tracing it. “Also remember to check the flexibility, see?” Lace made Princess’ fingers wrap around that spot, making her push it towards the butt of the handle. The sensation was extremely elastic, with a bit of give still, but far more resistance. “That is good elasticity for a versatile crop. Try it on your forearm.” She suggested, pushing Princess’ shirt upwards.

A bit hesitant, Princess lifted her dominant arm up. Lace corrected her stance, repositioning her elbow. “You only need to do a slight rotation of your forearm for now. Keep your elbow still and smack your forearm down, like you were arm wrestling but with more snap.”

Princess nodded, her eyes closing before she let her arm snap. First she heard the ‘whoosh’ of the stick cut through the air, and then the snapping sound, like a dry cracking.

“Good one. Did it hurt?”

Princess tutted. “Not too bad. The bite was pleasing.”

The sound awakened Vixen from her trance. She had been staring at the paddle for a few minutes, thinking.

“Try using it feather-light now. Like it was a make-up brush on your skin.” Lace placed the tip of the crop on Princess skin with the lightest pressure, the touch so soft that the tip didn’t even bend a little to accommodate the skin. It was simply lingering, grazing.

“I really like it. I think I’d love to own one.” Princess said enthusiastically. “Would you come with me if I go buy one?” She looked up to her friend.

“Yes, sure. You have my number, we can arrange someday this week, or whenever you like it.” Lace smiled genuinely. Her cheeks puffed up in round apples.

“I think you should check on Vixen.” She whispered.

The girl was being too quiet. It meant she was thinking. Overthinking, if Lace knew her friend well.

“Are you okay?” Lace moved towards Vixen, looking at her vacant stare, her skittish mood and the insecure nibbling on her lower lip.

“Yeah, I was just thinking...” Vixen replied, still unfocused from her surroundings. “I don’t know if Princess is okay with this. It’s her home, after all.”

“What is it?” Asked the other one, immediately alarmed.

“Would it be awkward if we tried a small simulation? Not a scene, just an exercise. For practice.” Vixen proposed. “If you’re all okay with it.”

Lace studied Vixen’s expression. “What about Namjoon?”

“I could ask him. I think he’s awake, I’ll text him. Ask him if it’s okay with him. This is nothing sexual. It’s just for learning purposes.” Vixen shrugged.

A part of Princess’ brain was already seeing it happen, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “If it’s not too much of a bother, I think it would be really helpful to me if you and Lace tried. I don’t think I want to do it myself, but I’d like to watch.” She admitted.

“Are you in the right mindset to do this, sweetie?” Lace asked. “You’ve been on mood swings the whole night. Are you sure?” Lace asked, seriously concerned.

“Yes, I’m sure. Trust me,” Vixen said, reassuring her friend with a kind smile. “I just need to ask Joon.”

Lace thought about it. Doing such a thing with Vixen of course could be extremely helpful to Princess, showing her how a scene worked, however Vixen’s mood swings suggested that she was looking for reassurance, that she was hoping someone would literally spank her negative thoughts out of her. She probably wanted Namjoon instead of Lace, but maybe this mechanism of simulation and education was what she needed to rein in her insecurities. Vixen was a smart woman, extremely aware of her emotions and the mechanisms to handle them. Lace decided. “Okay. Call him.”

“Let me grab my purse, then.” Vixen stood up and reached for her phone at the dining table. “Thank you”, she said to Lace before unlocking her phone and finding Namjoon’s number on her shortcuts.

“Put it on speaker.” Lace told her.

The three women waited expectantly as the ringing echoed through the small room — Lace with cold ice settling in her veins, Princess with ebullient anticipation and curiosity, Vixen with a certain emptiness in her gaze, her free hand toying with the small pendant laying between her collarbones while she rubbed the flat of her upper chest.

The ringing stopped, followed by a couple seconds of silence.

“Hello?”

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Part two here

#bts blog #the Girlfriends #introducing the girlfriends #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fic #Bts smut #bangtan smut #Introducing vixen #introducing princess #Introducing lace #namjoon x reader #namjoon x vixen #jimin x reader #Jimin x princess #taehyung x reader #taehyung x lace #bts fanfiction

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dorki-c · 4 years ago

Text

Metanoia

Characters: Dabi and reader

Relationship: Dabi X Pro-hero! Reader

Quote: “Metanoia”

Gift for: @glitterfreezed (Aka photoshop goddess) THANK YOU for being one of my very first moots on this crazy platform! I really hope you enjoy this one shot (as I spent way too much time on it XD) and for anybody reading this: GO CHECK OUT GLITTERS PLAYLISTS!! They are honestly amazing!

Tw: Kidnapping, Use of Guns, Slight nudity

Going on patrol lately has been boring.

Sure, (y/n) wouldn’t pass it up for helping little old ladies get across the road or helping itty bitty children find their parents within a crowd.

But besides that, there was little to nothing to do- no paperwork, no criminals terrorising the streets, or vigilantes on loose- the streets were cleared and scrubbed down from any crime lately.

It was strange.

Nothing has been the same ever since Kamino ward as well.

The moment you found out your lover was a villain; you took great lengths to create distance from him. Not sparing him a second glance or another phone call- let’s not forget you blocked his number- although doing these things made you seem like an asshole; you are a hero.

Heroes do not date Villains.

Its absolutely forbidden.

Though should you have stayed with him, something could’ve happened- he could’ve used you for blackmail, ransom, and maybe trafficking- as terrifying as it sounds, at least your far from your old apartment.

At least your away from that freak. That sadistic freakshow, with his stupid smirk and (beautiful) weird ass scars.

Luckily, the clock had ticked to the hour that announced your release from countless wasted minutes of scrolling through your phone as two feet laid disrespectfully on the hero agencies desk where nobody pointed out the blatant rudeness she was showing.

Even if she wanted to stay here, the female should get home soon. Even if there was no problem during the day, that doesn’t reassure that there will be trouble when walking through the evening.

Where you had the inkling of protection that is provided to you by your muscle memory, nobody should rely on themselves to do a simple task like walking home when there is such a thing as societies creepy-crawly insects withering across the nooks and crannies of cities and flooding the deepest rabbit holes with their sickening ideals.

Just thinking about them brings revolting nausea into the churning acid within the insides of your body as it screams out to stay aware of the footsteps you take, of the glances you throw out, and of your hands gripping the cheap handbag- that you bought on a whim from that one charity shop around the corner of the apartment building- when a hand of yours dipped inside the bag to grip the weapon that laid unaware of whose blood it could spill today.

The three walled mirror room moved down from whatever floor it was on and when opening the doors, a small (and annoying) ping was heard through the (also) small lobby area.

When approaching your apartment door with your guard up and one of your hands swiftly opening the rusted door handle allowing a small gust of air to run into the vacant apartment, the eyes of a human watchdog sporadically darted from one place to another.

Making sure she can securely (slam) open the door, the pro hero steps in one footstep at a time like one of the cliché spy movies before throwing her bag down and yanking the heavy weapon out of her bag.

Its matte black exterior elongated to show the vertical and horizontal bits and pieces of the weapon as (Y/n) rested one of her fingers on the trigger whilst fiddling with the safety lock to make it unlock.

Once unlocking the safety lock of the gun, she leaned it towards the ground, turned around for a brief second to retrieve the key from her apartment door, then kicked said door shut with the heel of her foot.

Even when she investigates her almost empty apartment three times without a peaceful resolve at the end, the female is already sitting on her couch scrolling through another apartment renting website for herself.

It’s pathetic.

She’s on the run from her ex-boyfriend because she knows that if she gets caught by him, there will be a low chance of her escaping from his grasp again. It was quite evident from his group’s little broadcast that if anyone “tries to catch us, you’re going to be caught first.”

What if that applies to people wanting to escape from them?

Stripping herself of the day’s tiredness, the female wore the loosest clothing within her wardrobe and ventured out to the shit-tip of her kitchen- the sink only had a few dishes in it, but, otherwise the trash looked like it got taken out once a year and there were so many letters scattered in piles over the counters.

Sighing at the sight, letting a hand of hers travel up her shirt to soothe an itch on her back, (y/n) shook her head at her own mess and still continued to go towards the fridge to dig through it in order to find the cheap- most definitely shitty- microwavable food she bought from the store only three days ago because to be completely honest, she’s saving up for buying a ticket out of this shit country and living in another one.

Ripping the film cover off of the food’s plastic container, she shoved her shitty food in the microwave and let the annoying beep sound through the apartment while (y/n) went into the small living room, grabbed some shorts that were sunbathing under the flickering yellow bulb and put them on in order to take out the trash.

When entering back into the apartment however, a flash of darkness alerted her body to go limp.

What was this feeling of restraint around her arms and legs? Moving one of her wrists- in an attempt to pull them out of the bindings- a harsh rub of a frictional material bit across the sensitive layer of the underside of your wrist, where it elicited a hiss to very subtly slip from your lips.

That seemingly helped beg a question in your curious mind. “Are my eyes covered?” Although when opening your eyes, a flurry of white blinded you causing a multitude of red freckles to dance across the pale illumination.

Whoever thought not putting a blindfold on you was a smart idea, it seems clear to me that they didn’t watch enough spy movies.

Okay, time to take a look of your surroundings.

First of all, Y/n glanced down to see if she had any major injuries- nope, the only thing missing from her body was her clothes and if that didn’t count as being kinky, then (y/n) doesn’t know what it counts as- along with her feet barely touching the carpeted floor, her ankles were tied to what she assumes to be a wooden chair.

Looking off to the side after shifting her gaze from her feet to her forearm her eyes picked out the surroundings behind her and the type of seat she was sitting in. Wow, whoever kidnapped you, really knows how to do it inefficiently.

Though, if they’ve used cheap ass rope and tied you up to a wooden chair- out of all the chairs in the world, they choose a wooden chair- along with forgetting to put a blindfold on you, they probably didn’t take any precaution when kidnapping you because the criminals probably have back up on hold.

Meaning there was more than one culprit involved and that they don’t expect you to get out of this area due to being outnumbered.

Moving your head upwards once more, the outlines of what seems to be a closet and a drawer were all that you could observe before some sort of jiggling sound was emitted through the silent room.

It wasn’t till the door opened that it revealed somebody that (y/n) didn’t expect. A hitch lodged itself like a six-foot down corpse where only grave looters would be able to find it. Was she seeing a ghost? Perhaps. Did she care? Maybe, however she was trained to not overreact in a situation like this.

“Well, look what we have here…” The metal contraptions that held the person’s tough layer of skin nudged a little in the direction of the muscle’s movement. “…A squirming itty-bitty hero.” The venomous hiss of their voice slipped real close to her ear as the lamp pointing obnoxiously into her right eye was turned off.

“So, this was your doing?” Snapped the hero as the villain sat down on her lap and gently grasped her chin- just like the old days- where his fucked up (handsome) grin shone brighter than the hero on her first debut. Dodging the question, the male let his weight lean onto the female’s thighs as she harshly craned her jutted out facial bone away from his hold.

“Oh, and it looks like your still as feisty as ever.”

“Yeah, I am. Got a problem with it, villain?” The hiss made the patchwork villain only recoil an inch backwards before narrowing his pupils at the nickname and gripping the very first thing his eyes land on, your neck, where the surface of his skin was smouldering to the touch.

“I wouldn’t say that if I was in your position.” He proclaimed as the slimming of her lips straightened out to a thin line, “Now, I’m here to offer you a position and…” From somewhere on his body, he pulled a gun- one of the many similar pistols that you hoarded in your apartment for safe keeping- then pointed it straight at your thinly protected heart where the brush of stainless chilled metal tingled the very fabric of your body.

“…it would be wise of you to listen.” Sure, a gun was pointed literally at her chest- lets not forget that she’s being forced into this position of unwillingness- but hopefully, some otherworldly deity will let (y/n) live one more second.

“Okay, good girl?” You’ve never committed to metanoia before, but at this point, you might as well.

#dabi x reader #Dabi lives rent free in my mind #dabi mha #dabi x y/n #Tw: kidnapping mention #Tw: slight nudity #Dabi X prohero! Reader #mha angst #tw: gun mention

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heckfick · 4 years ago

Text

Part one

The first call.

Word count:2k+

Pairing:Y/N x Feitan

Warnings:Swearing, mentions of death.

————————————

Y/N sat in her chair, silently leaning against the back of it. She stared blankly at the monitor before her, her mind utterly blank. Her father, her partner in crime, was out at the time and training didn't sound too pleasing at the moment. And, dispite having the surface, deep, and dark web all at her disposal, things got rather boring quickly. The same old drama, government files, and red rooms just weren't appealing anymore.

So, she sat there, staring at her setup. "Wonder what dad is picking up at the store." She thought, scanning her desk for a moment before grabbing her water bottle and twisting the cap off. "Our next client better be interesting at the very least." She hoped. She brought the plastic to her lips, taking a swig of water. When her and her father got a client, she was in charge of planning, and she wasn't always planning the same thing.

On occasion they were hired to be a bodyguard, occasionally an assassin. The jobs varied, there were some that they just wouldn't take and others that they were more than happy to do. Y/N was in charge of finding out the details, helping her father understand what was to be done, and she was the one to come up with what would be done. Of course, if they ever worked for a celebrity then she would tag along. Just to meet them, maybe get their autograph or a couple of pictures. She was more than capable to handle their business all by herself, though. She was strong and smart, talented in what she did.

Her father, however, wasn't able to work by himself. He needed an idea of how things were going to happen, it was just who he was. The more detailed the plan, the calmer he was and without any idea at all, he panicked. He was really the only one she had, so she stuck with him. She worked to keep things in check, and he reeled in clients and handled most of the dirty work.

These were the thoughts that crossed her mind as she zoned out, snapping out of her trance only when she heard the door open. "Speak of the devil!" Y/N shouted, even though she hadn't been actually speaking.

"We have a client!" He boomed, clearly happy.

She grabbed the arms of her chair, standing up to help him put away whatever he had gotten. "Really? Who is it?" She asked, curious as she walked out of her room.

"Come here, I wanna see your reaction." She rolled her eyes at this, knowing that he knew she was on the way. Nevertheless, she picked up the pace until she was in the kitchen.

She walked over, grabbing one of the bags that he set on the counter, digging through it and grabbing a loaf of bread out of it. Her curiosity was now peaked, she saw her father smiling wildly out of the corner of her eye, he was just staring at her. "Well?" She asked, turning her head to look at him better.

He was silent for a moment, it was clear that he was ecstatic, almost bouncing off the walls. "The Spiders." He said, there was a pause, but then she laughed.

"You really shouldn't mess with me like that." She giggled. The Phantom Troupe needing their services? What a crazy idea.

"I'm not fucking with you, they want our help taking out some bodyguards." He explained. She had never seen him this happy.

"You're serious?" She asked, he nodded. "The Troupe." She murmured, trying to take it in. "The Troupe." She said louder, finally getting grasp of the situation. "We're working with the fucking Phantom Troupe!" She screamed, immediately dropping the bread and wrapping her arms around her fathers neck, nearly crying with joy.

He spun her around, as if she were still a little girl and not an adult serial killer. They were excited for two different reasons, Y/N had always admired the Phantom Troupe, their witt, strength and ability to get a job done was almost unbelievable. F/N was excited for the opportunity, if they did well, then a group as well known as the Phantom Troupe recommending them was good for getting business. Dispite their different reason for being happy, they still spun in the kitchen.

He eventually bumped into the counter, however, causing them to stop. They let go of eachother, both of their faces still as happy as ever. "I told the man I talked to to email you, it was about a hour ago. As if on cue, one of her monitors let out a noise that signaled she had a notification.

"And your sure it's them?" She asked, just wanting one last assuring word so she didn't get her hopes up for nothing.

"You know I have my ways of making sure people are the real deal, now go answer him, he said that we'll move out in three weeks so make a good impression!" He said, turning around and continuing to unload groceries.

She turned as well, heading towards her bedroom. She had been with dozens of clients, each and everyone leaving some sort of impression. Very few flirted with her, which she didn't find surprising. This was a professional job, and they didn't offer those kinds of services, although many had asked. An unpleasant thought then popped into her head. "What if the one I talk to is a pervert?"

What if he flirted, would she flirt back? No, she was professional, and while connections did mean alot, almost everything. She wouldn't go as low as to going out with someone just for work. That's something she told herself after she reached eighteen, she didn't care who it was, she wouldn't do that just for work.

So, if he was a pervert, she was fully prepared to ignore it. As she entered her room, the notification was on the screen still. So, she sat down and clicked on it. Her thoughts had ruined the mood she was in, almost instantly.

Blue apple. Hot pink watermelon

This was the message that her father told whoever was on the other end to send, it confirmed that she was talking to the same person and not just a random person who thought it would be funny to email her. With each client came a different secret message, they were all random and some were rushed, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that these helped.

Keep your fruit! For I have a lock of hair!

Be careful, for I only offer you one strand.

Y/N sent this message, followed by a link that would send him to her website, where he would have to enter yet another secret code that her father gave him. It didn't matter if he changed his account, the website wouldn't pop up anymore if he got it wrong he only had one chance. So, if he wanted to try again, he would have to go out and get an entirely different device.

On the same note, if he got it right, then as long as he stayed on whatever device he was using, he wouldn't have to enter the code ever again. She clicked on the link, her screen immediately changed. The website had a dark theme, it was simply easier on her eyes when she had to work late at night. She kept her eyes on the welcome back message, reading it even though she already knew what it said. There wasn't alot on her mind, now that her one main worry had taken over her mood, she thought of this as another job. Until she had talked to the man, just to make sure he wouldn't hit on her or anything of that nature, she decided to stay calm.

Y/N put on her headset, crossing her legs while in the chair.

She made sure that it was plugged in, adjusting the mic so that it was in front of her mouth. She just waited, staring at the screen for about a minute before a small rectangle popped up at the bottom, informing her that she was getting a call. She moved her mouse, hovering over the accept button for a moment, putting on a welcoming smile before clicking.

There was a few seconds of silence, as she scanned her face on her side of the screen to make sure she was looking half decent.

"Hello," she said, pausing as her gaze drifted over to the other side of the screen. "My names Y/N." She quickly took in his features, black hair that seemed wet. Maybe he just got out of the shower, or it could have been raining where he was. He seemed to be scowling, but she wasn't judging. Most of the time business made her grumpy, too.

"Feitan." He said, his voice sounding a little raspy.

"Nice to meet you, will there be anyone else joining the call?" She asked.

"No. I'll relay all of the information to to the others." He explained, leaning back onto the wall behind him. A dark hoodie and what she could only make out to be sweatpants were his clothing of choice, making her feel a little better about wearing a t-shirt and shorts.

She nodded. "Okay, got it. Would you mind explaining the operation?" She leaned forward, grabbing her binder and opening it, picking up the pen that simply laid inside.

"There's a man, he has some stuff we want. So we're going to go take it. He's said to have some skilled bodyguards. I'm sure we would have been able to handle it but Shalnark heard of you and wanted to see if it was worth what people paid for your work." Such a vague description,

"Mhm, could you give me a idea of where it is?" She ignored the last bit, not really caring why they were hired.

"Somewhere out east. It's called Bog Mansion."

She nodded, quickly jotting down this information. "Okay and now I'm going to need some info on the abilities of everyone whose going to be working with us." She prepared to start writing, but what she was asking for wasn't given to her.

"Why would I tell you that?" He questioned.

"I need to plan, that's the whole point of this call. I'll get and gather information, then I'll come up with a plan so you don't have to." She explained.

He considered it, eventually sighing. "I trust the person who wanted to hire you, but since it was his idea I'll leave it up to him to go kill you if you give our information away."

Y/N wasn't fazed, everything was classified of course, that's why she wrote everything on paper and not electronically. If it was stored electronically, you can never tell who has a hold of it even if you think it is only visible to you. "Would you like my address? Hell, I'll gladly deliver myself on a silver platter if I sell you out, of course I never will but still."

This caused Feitan to smile for whatever reason. "Okay, how about you tell me your ability as well. Your father already told me his so don't bother."

"Oh, my ability? It's nothing special I call it Satan's Zoo, and I just make animals with my aura. I have a pole that I use for close range fighting but it's in my closet somewhere." She glanced over to the closet in question. "Of course how many animals I make and the size of them both effect each other, but I can also modify animals it's a little difficult but I think I've gotten pretty good at it."

He took this in, being silent for a little bit as if he was thinking of what to say next. After about a minute he spoke up. "Will you be coming with your father with at a job?" He asked.

She was slightly taken back, of all things she expected him to ask this wasn't one of them. "Yes, I'd like to meet in person so I'll be tagging along."

"Then I would like to fight with you before we go to Bog Mansion." Feitan said calmly.

This was definitely unexpected, it left her speechless. A Phantom Toupe member thinking that she might be worth fighting? This was an odd honor.

"Your ability intrigues me." He said, perhaps trying to carry the conversation after seeing her speachless. "I'll try my best not to kill you. But I'd like to see your ability I person while your fighting against me rather than running into you in the mansion." He explained and all of a sudden her excitement returned.

"Really? You think I'm worth fighting?" Y/N asked, still star struck.

"Why do you sound so happy? I could kill you by mistake." He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I've looked up to the Phantom Troupe for a while. The pure strength that all of the members posses is amazing and I strive to be like all of you. Fast, efficient and good at what I do." She was smiling from ear to ear, making no effort to hide her happiness.

Feitan seemed like an okay guy, focused on business from what she had seen so far.

"Your strange." He commented. "I've never met a Phantom Troupe fangirl." He snickered, but she wasn't insulted.

"Well now you have, maybe you should release merchandise I'm sure there are people who would buy it." This caused him to laugh again, and this time Y/N joined him.

"Anyway, back on track." She said. "Go on ahead and start explaining everyone's abilities and such please." She readied her pen, excited to fill up her page full of information about her favorite group of thieves.

—————————————————

A single page wasn't able to contain all of information. It took at least a full page front and back for each member, sometimes more. With five members the exact number of pages came down to eight pages front and back. Her wrist was used to writing nowadays, but this was the closest it had come to hurting in a while. It was almost overwhelming how much Feitan knew about his teammates. Although, the more she knew the more solid the plan could be but still.

"Well, I have to say Shizuku's ability seems most interesting." She commented, closing the binder. "But I would also like to see your umbrella." She said, sighing as she closed the binder, leaving the pen inside. "I'll do some research and see if I can get a layout of the building and some intel on the bodyga-" while sitting her binder down she removed her eyes from the screen for a split second, and in that split second he was gone.

"Uh, Feitan?" She asked. It was only a moment before he moved back into frame with the umbrella. He sat back down onto the bed, grabbing the handle and actual umbrella before pulling a few inches of the concealed weapon out.

"Wow! That's actually really cool." She said, staring at it for a moment. "Did you just have it laying around?"

He closed it, placing it beside his bed. "Yes, it's best to have a weapon close to you when theres people out for your head."

"Has anyone actually tried to assassinate you?" She asked, wondering who might be stupid enough to try and kill a member of the Troupe.

"A few, unfortunate souls down on their luck. I'm guessing that people have a pretty high bounty on us." He sighed, crossing his arms. "What about you?" He asked.

"Well, people have actually sent some pretty skilled assassins after me. Thankfully, no ones sent in the Zoyldic family yet!" She joked, placing a finger inbetween her two collarbones and starting to trace down. "A man with a sword actually got me right through here." She continued to trace the old scar, moving down until right below her chest, where it curved to the left. "I beat him, of course but he left me with a pretty nasty scar." Her hand returned to her arm rest.

"Now that I I've told you our abilities, what now?" He asked.

She dreaded her next sentence. Talking to him was actually more pleasant than most of her clients, so this would be a little more difficult to let go. "Well, you call me around this time tommorow and until then, I get to work! I'll figure out everything I can and use what knowledge you've given me to make a plan!"

Feitan pursed his lips. "Okay I guess."

"I'll talk to you later, just message me if you have any questions!" She smiled. "Goodbye!"

"Bye." And just like that the call was over.

Y/N grabbed up the binder, opening it up to a new blank page. She needed to impress him, get a good word in with the Troupe and she might be able to work with them again! This was so exciting. So, as her heart pounded in her chest, she got to work on figuring out everything she could about Bog Mansion and the people who lived within it.

#hxh #fanfiction #fanfic #feitan #feitan x reader #phantom troupe #hunter x hunter #anime

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