#so many links n kinks to work out for it but he’s been cooking in my head for at least 2 weeks now

[qismet]

another jjk original living in my head rent free … hōrōsha kisen you are so important to me

[notjustjavierpena]

Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia: Chapter III

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: I'm excited to bring to you the next chapter! Happy reading!

Chapter Summary: In which you experience your wedding night and an uncomfortable conversation takes place.

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Chapter warnings: +18, arranged marriage, historical sexism, probably historical inaccuracies, large age gap, religion in the form of Roman Gods, shitty parents, anxieties over wedding night, virginity loss, female masturbation, handjobs, piv sex, praise kink, dirty talk, painful sex but also not painful sex, creampie, politics, Marcus gets angry

Word count: 9k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57443332/chapters/154904269

Chapter III: You're a woman and a wife now

After you enter the room, Marcus closes the door to his night chambers with a soft click. He secures it to give the two of you an illusion of privacy despite the many servants walking up and down the halls that now belong to you as well, cleaning the rooms of any signs of guests so that new people can relish in festivities tomorrow too. 

“I noticed you regained your appetite. Did you like the feast?” He asks as he starts undoing his sandals with steadier hands than you can muster right now in your anxiety-riddled body, untying them where they stop just underneath his knees until he can step out of them completely. 

“Your cook is better than ours,” you compliment with a little smile, your arms crossed over your chest until you can hug yourself with your palms on your back. You try to self-soothe like when you had first met but the thought of the wifely duties that lie ahead makes your heartbeat pound in your chest in a dizzying fashion. 

“He is your cook now too,” he delves into small talk, trying to make a mundane situation out of something that so evidently weighs heavily on you. He is just about to continue when you hold up your hand to stop him, reluctantly having let go of yourself to signal that you wish to speak.

“Marcus,” you start in a soft voice without knowing where the sentence will go, doing the utmost to make sure that you are not sounding as if you are going to refuse to share a bed with him in case of evoking anger in him. He watches you curiously, graciously allowing you to interrupt him all the while you swallow the lump in your throat, “I must confess that I am nervous.”

You can barely get the sentence out before tears start to well up in your eyes, your throat constricting as you find yourself on the verge of crying. You reach for some of the fabric of your tunic, clutching it desperately as you hold a sob at bay. 

Marcus looks at you with sympathy that shouldn’t surprise you but still does despite the moment you shared the last time you were alone with each other.  

“What bothers you?” He asks despite knowing the answer already. 

“Is it not obvious?” You ask with a whimper, “I am dreading the thing that all wives so desperately long for on their wedding night. I have been told stories of blood and cries, of men being cruel in their passion, and— I know that it is my duty, that this is as important as the ceremony itself but it scares me. What if my body simply isn’t made for this act?“

It is odd to confess something so personal to a near-stranger but you suppose that there is no point in tiptoeing around the fact that you are united in marriage which demands the deepest form of vulnerability towards each other. A tear manages to escape your eye and it rolls down until it drips off your chin. 

“Carissima,” Marcus soothes gently. He dares walk to stand in front of you, his bare feet quiet on the cold floor and even though he can potentially reach out to put his hands on you, he does not, “Goddess Nox has given us plenty of time to take things slowly before dawn. These stories you have heard… I wish you would not think of me as such a brutal man. Our chambers are not a battlefield.” 

You reach up with the back of your hand to swipe away the tears that have started to continuously fall from your chin, catching some on your cheeks before they even manage to go so far. You feel a pang of guilt at your assumptions because Marcus is right and the proof is in the way he kissed you so carefully yesterday when you had asked. 

“I’m sorry,” you cry unhappily and stare down at your feet again, hating the way you come off as a scared child. You are married to a general of the great Roman Empire, meant to exude grace and strength even when the two of you are alone in your home. Your home. These chambers will forever be yours too.

“I know this is difficult but this is something we must do to start our lives together as man and wife,” Marcus coos back at you. He dares to put a hand underneath your damp chin to tilt your head up again, looking into your eyes with his own that seems to be miles deep with their brown color. You whimper but he shakes his head, “No more of that. I will not have you remember your first night in these halls with remorse and terror.”

His hand moves up to cup your whole cheek with how large his palm is, and as you feel his warm and gentle fingers on your skin, you close your eyes and lean into the same kind of touch that had made you explore yourself in bed last night. He smiles as you melt a little, “Very good, that’s it.”

Your eyes shoot open again as he praises you so effortlessly, a warmth spreading through your lower body at hearing words you have never heard from any man before. A tiny drop of need pools in your belly, making you bold enough to make a request, “Will you kiss me like yesterday? Perhaps then I might relax more.”

Marcus nods. You move to remove the crown of flowers that secures the veil covering your hair. You place it on one of the many marble surfaces in the room, handling it with the care that comes from your superstition as to what would happen if you were to tear it. You do the same with the veil, draping it across a chair while Marcus waits patiently. No tears fall from your eyes anymore.

You signal to him that you are ready and you don’t flinch as he leans close, the tip of his thumb resting underneath your chin while the rest of his hand is spread across your face. He pokes his nose into your cheek, pecking you there with featherlight touches of his lips before gently going inward to capture your mouth. 

The kiss is even better than yesterday. It makes you release the fabric of your dress in an instant, your arms coming up instinctively to wrap around your husband’s shoulders. You kiss him back with a desire that must have been asleep in your body because it wakes up as fiercely as linen catching fire. 

“What do I do?” You pant when he gives you a moment to breathe, your faces barely an inch apart. You might drown in his eyes. 

“You trust me,” he replies without hesitation and you can do nothing but nod slightly, so eager to follow orders that it terrifies you a little. You feel his strong hands bunch up the fabric of your tunic that’s draping over your hips as he captures your mouth once more, a soft moan leaving you as his tongue slips past your lips. 

He leads you towards the bed without pulling away. You can taste the honey and fruit from the dessert on his tongue, smell him when he forces you to breathe through your nose when his mouth does not leave yours. He smells faintly of scented oil that a servant probably recommended after a shave along his neck, of sweat and of himself, which you will fall asleep and wake up to for many days to come. He has you not worrying about yourself for even a second, not even when one of his hands reaches for the woven belt around your waist to undo it with utmost care. 

It sways in the air as it falls to the floor, lying forgotten for the maids to clean up tomorrow. He allows you a breath when he breaks the kiss but he takes the air from your lungs once more when his hands touch your shoulders. You feel lightheaded as he slips the tunic off of them, the soft fabric slipping down your arms and chest until it catches on your hips. You have never been this exposed to anyone before, the slightly cooler air outside of your clothes making your nipples harden and catch Marcus’ attention. He admires your bare chest without words at first but it makes you hesitate, knowing how effortlessly he had complimented your appearance when you had first met. However, when you reach up to cover yourself, he shakes his head. 

“You are radiant,” he praises and warmth goes to your face, eyes dropping to the floor at the idea that he might mean it wholly. You gain a shred of courage, pretending that you haven’t looked at the floor again by fixing your gaze on your skirt. You work the draping fabric over the swell of your hips, ripe for bearing children if that is what he should want, and let it pool around your feet. You have already had your blood this month, so you have no garments covering your sex. Suddenly, you are more exposed than you have ever even seen the depictions of Venus. Does he find you just as beautiful now that you are in nothing but the golden jewelry that your mother said he had sent?

Without word, your instincts guide you to sit down on the large bed and Marcus waits patiently while you crawl back on the linen sheets. You move your arms back to support yourself, bending your knees slightly but not daring to let your legs fall open like you know you probably should. You consider the pose of a siren, legs together like a tail and laying to one side to show off the curve of your body. 

“Seems like Venus has favored you. I shall wonder how your father has kept you in his house for so long,” Marcus finally breaks the silence but only to make you smile shyly, stirring up a little laughter and shortness of breath in your chest. Cupid seems to have hit you square in the chest with his golden-tipped arrow, filling you up with desire for your new husband when he says praise so effortlessly. 

“Are you going to join me now?” You ask, finding that nervousness is best fought by being direct. You gaze at his face to read him but you have no clue how these situations unfold, so you are unable to read his mind and foresee his next move. 

“You will not be ready,” he shakes his head. You narrow your eyes as you ponder what he means, watching him undo the knot of red fabric on his shoulder to slip off the top layer of his toga. He hangs it on the chair next to your matching veil. 

“Ready? But I am in your bed,” you let him know of your confusion. When he turns around to face you once more, you gasp at the sight of his sex, the length of it. He is visible through the toga now that the top layer isn’t covering him up anymore. His cock is outlined by it from the way he has gotten hard in response to seeing you naked, a thing you knew was going to happen but never could have imagined what looked like. 

“Come closer,” he says as he stands by the end of your bed. His tone has changed a little but you cannot confirm whether it has to do with him being aroused underneath the remnants of his clothes. It seems like a command now, so you follow through with a pounding heartbeat until your heels are pressing into the mattress right at the edge of the bed. 

“What did you mean?” You ask. 

“When you are alone,” he begins but the tone of his voice is still to the gentler side, his hand reaching out and hovering above your knee. He makes you gasp as he grabs it, carefully pulling it outwards until the most private part of your body exposes itself to him. His eyes only look down briefly, “Do you touch yourself here? Between your legs?” 

You glance away quickly as your heart leaps into your throat. The images of last night flood through your mind and you feel embarrassed, so you shake your head in response, “No, of course not.”

“I don’t believe your words for a second, Carissima,” he chuckles, his dominant hand going up your thigh until he removes it altogether to catch your wrist. He moves your hand to rest between your thighs, “Show me what you do.”

You release a breath you didn’t know you have been holding, feeling the warmth of your cunt against your fingers and how it aches for you to caress the spots you like the most. Your pulse is everywhere now but mostly centered around your clit, the pearl-shaped nub that you have explored just the night before. 

“I don’t do it long,” you babble nervously as you start to touch gently between your legs, two fingers rubbing in gentle circles over your clit. It makes you gasp a little, the sensations in your lower body heightened by being in another person’s proximity as you touch yourself, “I always stop right before… before something happens.”

“There’s no need to stop. Something beautiful happens when you keep going and get to that pinnacle,” Marcus teaches you with a kind expression, moving his hand to push your other leg out to the side. You are opened up to him like a lotus flower but he still doesn’t seem like he will move on top of you yet, crush you with his weight, and fall asleep afterward with horrible snoring that your sisters have joked about. 

You start to feel familiar wetness increase between your legs, your fingers gliding over your cunt easier and making you speed up your touches as the pressure increases. Marcus sees it from the way your slit glistens in the dim light of the oil lamp on the nightstand. He encourages you, his cock even more prominent underneath his clothes, “If you have touched between your thighs, you will know of what I speak. I see it now, the signs of your body welcoming intrusion by making itself warm and wet for me. It will feel like you are missing something… I assure you that I will give it.”

You furrow your brow at those words while you stroke yourself and feel a flutter of pleasure intense enough to make you moan, Marcus’ eyes dropping to his own lap where his length twitches. He readjusts himself with a soft groan and then something clicks. You do feel exactly like he said, perplexed by why you have not noticed the gaping emptiness all the other times you have done this. 

Experimentally, you reach lower to prod a finger at your entrance and you groan at the way it slips effortlessly inside yourself. You aren’t sure what to do next, letting the finger stay still inside of you as you get used to the unusual pressure, but the heel of your hand starts grinding down onto your clit in earnest. 

Marcus steps a little closer at the temptation you bring him with your growing pleasure. He squeezes your thigh and you nearly laugh in surprise when you can feel your walls squeezing your finger, “Will I not hurt you if I… grip you with my…”

You cannot say any of the words you know. Cunt, heat, sex. It somehow feels more exposing, more intimate in a way than the physical gestures you are performing for him. You hear him laugh but his eyes are not cheerful when you find them, instead, they’re dark with lust and you squeeze your digit again. 

“On the contrary,” he touches himself on top of his toga, his stomach rising and falling faster than just a moment ago when he didn’t have a hand on himself, “It’ll feel like I was made for nothing else.”

There’s the familiar gathering inside of your belly. Sweat prickles at your skin, pleasure steadily blossoming from inside of you as you reach a point of no return. This would be where you would stop back home, leaving you sensitive and emotional as you forced sleep onto yourself. This time, you chase the feelings that terrify you.

You feel like the most fragile person ever; like you are made of clay that might shatter at any moment. You clutch at the sheets with your free hand, Marcus’ eyes sure to make you succumb to how brittle you are as he watches intensely. You bite your bottom lip, a small whimper escaping you as you teeter on what you have always shied away from. 

“Don’t stop,” he urges when you hesitate for less than a second. His breathing is ragged now, synchronized with your own as you suddenly realize that you are doing the same thing. He seems better at controlling it than you, “Let it come, so we can enjoy each other.” 

You cannot breathe, snapping for air as you press a little harder on your hard clit. You want to squeeze your eyes shut but then you’ll miss the look on Marcus’ face as he sees you come undone, so you power through and, and… and—

A cry of surprise and pleasure leaps from your chest as you find release. You lift your hips to meet your hand, your index finger slipping out of you as you instinctively know to focus on your pulsing clit. It is like nothing you have ever felt before, going on for several maddening seconds where you don’t know whether to chase more or stop when you can do nothing but tremble from the sensation. 

The linen on the bed is wet underneath you and a cockiness within you tells you that you could handle him tenfold if you wanted. You are disoriented by the heat ebbing out of your body, leaving you in a state of daze and a mix of emotions that you cannot fathom has nothing to do with the wine during the feast. You let your hand rest on your stomach, feeling your panting underneath it and suppressing a giggle that bubbles up all the way from your belly. 

“Will it be like that every time?” You ask and stretch your legs to let your feet hang out over the edge. 

“It can be,” he replies with slight amusement, hiding a lopsided grin. He is standing with his knees brushing against the bed, having itched to get as close as possible without overwhelming you and perhaps scaring you off. He lets your foot brush his toga, “However it might get better with time and practice.” 

You stare at him in disbelief, not sure if you believe that there’s something even better awaiting you somewhere in your future. You stare down between his legs where he must be aching like you’ve been several times in the past. You are already aware that you are wrong in the assumptions you have about pleasure because you’ve learned so much in less than ten minutes. How will it feel when he gives it to you?

“Can I touch you?” You boldly ask and slowly find the confidence to sit up, feet planted on the floor. You are so close to his lap, “When you are undressed?”

“You can,” he nods, not able to hide the surprise on his face as you look curious above all else. He undoes the belt around his waist and lets it clatter to the floor, and you watch with nervous breath how he lets his own garments slip from his body until the whole of him is revealed. It is fascinating to see a man like this, much different from the statues around Rome and particularly where you sometimes have felt scared to look. 

He steps between your knees, looking down at you and the height difference should be intimidating but is not. Instead, there’s the calming reassurance of being watched and guided as you lift your hand to rest your palm on the softness of his stomach. He has muscles there, just a little less toned than what the working men back at the village sport. His arms are what hold his tremendous strength, the effects of carrying a sword or spear on the battlefield. He is gorgeous, you think to yourself while curiosity and unexpected heat stir in your loins. 

Your eyes wander while your palm skims lower. They follow the sculpt of his torso, a long scar weaving itself around his hip distracting you until your gaze settles on the sight of his erect cock. It is much larger than you expected - thick, long, and intimidating but somehow also beautiful - and the thought of it entering you brings new anxiety to your body and mind. 

“You are nervous,” he points out, chest rising and falling slowly as you explore the fine hair on his skin which becomes thicker the further down on his abdomen they are. You run your nails through the trail just below his navel, looking up as his cock jumps at the contact. 

“I try not to be. I’d rather be curious,” you tell him, finally bold enough to touch him where he is hard and straining. You wrap your fingers around his generous girth. He is warm in your hand as you stroke him lightly to simply feel the weight of him and it takes little else before he lets out a low, appreciative groan. The confidence his response gives you makes your mouth water but despite what your brain tells you to do, that seems over the line right now. 

Instead, you look up at him with big eyes as you continue in a rhythm that he seems to like because you can hear the catch of his breath. You think he might stop you when he covers your hand with his own but instead, he adds slight pressure to guide you in how he likes to be touched. 

You hadn’t thought this was how everything would go down. There’s a strange form of equality between the two of you when you are naked together, a comfortable feeling in your chest at the idea of a whole night of giving and taking pleasure from each other being before you. What you had gathered from what Cassius so disgustingly had tried to explain to you whenever you were by the river alone, it was supposed to be a cruel act for the woman. This is not cruel. 

Eventually, Marcus’ breathing has become labored and you know that he is within reach of his own pleasure. However, he tightens his grip on your hand to slow down your movements much to your confusion. 

“You’re a quick learner, almost too quick,” he says with a warm chuckle, removing your hand from his cock. There’s a bead of clear liquid at the tip, threatening to drip down onto your thigh. The room somehow smells sweeter when the both of you have been so close to experiencing a peak together. 

“Why did you stop me?” You ask curiously and let your hand drop to your lap. You can still feel his warmth radiating from his heated skin, it glowing with a sheen of sweat already. 

“I don’t want this to be over yet,” he explains with a few controlled breaths that seem to calm him. His jaw clenches as if he is in pain but he doesn’t sound like you have done anything wrong, “And it will be if I lose myself.” 

“Am I… are we ready now?” You question once more. 

“Lie back,” he orders with a nod. You do as you are told and he joins you on the bed with confident grace, as if he has done this a million times before, the mattress dipping underneath him. Gently, he pushes on your chest to make you lie down on your back. When you are comfortable, he lies down next to you with his body turned towards you. 

You see him come closer and meet him halfway, pressing your lips to his in a kiss even deeper than the first you’ve shared with him. He makes a noise of approval at your eagerness, cupping your face with a single giant hand while you cup the back of his head with both of your own. You try to initiate more kisses but suddenly his lips descend to your throat, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he pecks along the sensitive skin of your collarbone too. You start to feel impatient for another high with him, another peak of pleasure to dance its way through your veins. 

“Marcus,” you say with your fingers in his hair, “I’m ready.”

“Let me make sure,” he says while the hand on your face settles on your thigh instead. He rakes his fingernails across your skin when he goes inwards, causing you to gasp at the idea of what he means. Are you wet for him? Yes, you are. You know you are. 

Two fingers slide between your legs. He parts your thighs slightly to gain more access and then simply feels the slick that has been dripping from your cunt since you kissed him fully clothed. A gasp leaves you at the feeling of being touched by a man in a place that you’ve been told is your most private. In return, a smile spreads across his face and a satisfied hum escapes him. 

“You’re ready,” he whispers with his gaze fixed on you. Teasingly, he holds his fingers up before you and turns his wrist so you can see your wetness shine in the light. He then puts his digits in his mouth and licks them clean, to which you want to hide your face with a squeak. He describes you as ripe and sweet, juicy like the peaches in the Summer, all the while he shifts his weight and positions himself between your thighs. 

Feeling him like this - the skin of his rough thighs, the coarse hairs that feel nothing like yours as they grace your softness - makes a fresh wave of nerves wash over you. It feels like there’s suddenly a very short time to prepare for what you have come to understand will be a transformative experience. You start to tremble, looking down between Marcus’ legs and wondering how on Earth you are supposed to allow him into your body. Above you, you hear him say your name but it sounds like you’ve been trapped inside a bell jar. 

“We will go slow,” he promises when you look like a hunted doe. He has placed his hands on your thighs to soothe you, letting his calloused palms skim up and down your skin, but you tense up even more since he has barely touched you before. You swallow as he goes on, “You will guide me with your comfort. If anything hurts, I promise it’ll only be for a moment.”

“You will stop if I tell you to?” You ask with uncertainty. A part of you already knows that you will try to power through no matter the pain. 

“Yes,” he promises and removes his hand again when he realizes its effect on you. He places it on your chest instead, feeling your unsteady breaths underneath it, “But I need you to relax, Carissima. Take a deep breath and tell me what you fear.”

You do as he says, heaving for a large mouthful of air that makes your heartbeat settle down slightly as it fills your lungs. For once, you don’t shy away from his gaze as you talk about lying with him in such explicit terms. You chew your bottom lip after a few breaths, “What if it doesn’t fit?”

Marcus laughs and you feel embarrassed. He shakes his head as he notices, leaning over you to hover just above your lips. You hold onto the arm on your chest as he reassures you, “It’ll fit, I promise on the Gods. Your body and mine were made for this; for the act of making beautiful children.”

You decide to be brave and kiss him now that he is so close, and slowly, as you taste his mouth again, you tangle together in a way that makes sense for what you are about to do. Marcus is close enough to map out every detail of your face, one hand on your hip and the other resting just above your head. You, on the other hand, have grabbed both his bare shoulders, holding onto him tight enough for your fingertips to dent his skin. He has promised that it will be okay if you scratch him with your nails, that he, if he is completely honest, likes that sort of thing. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” you say with determination, feeling the way Marcus lets go of your hip to run his fingers through your folds again. You moan softly as he lets his hand gather wetness, your eyes going down to watch him take his cock in hand and smear it with slick. 

“Don’t look down there, look at me,” he guides you gently as he prods against your slit. You force yourself to meet his eyes again, a gaze in them that holds a mix of desire and restraint. He takes a deep breath that is followed by him starting to push forward, the feeling so intense that you whimper while keeping eye contact. 

“Shh,” he soothes during the initial sensation. There's a painful sting as the head stretches your walls that have never known such intrusion. It makes you breathe rapidly and shudder from discomfort until a cry leaves you when you are breached. Tears form at the corners of your eyes as it burns. It’s a feeling that you can’t describe, a fullness that feels unnatural and natural at the same time. He pushes beyond the thick head and it makes you tighten around him, so much he has to still completely. He looks angry but he isn’t, his teeth gritted as he continues to push despite the danger of finishing, “You’re tight around me, try to relax.”

“S-sorry,” you attempt to follow his instruction, try focusing on the exciting intensity of his gaze, the delicious way he looks at you because he wants you. His weight on you is so heavenly, his skin is warm against yours that is riddled with goosebumps despite not being cold, and the sound of his breathing reminds you of the way your own breath is rapid when you pleasure yourself. 

Yet when you seem to think that the worst is over, he goes a little faster with feeding you his cock and the pain intensifies by blooming into something more sharp. The air inside your lungs feels trapped as your breath hitches but you force it out until it releases into a pained cry. Mostly, you just want to stop but you’re reminded that this has to happen if the marriage is to be successful and legitimate. So instead, you clutch at Marcus’ shoulders and whine. 

“Am I hurting you?” He asks, resting his forehead against yours and stilling his hips. You nod at first but then shake your head quickly afterward, unable to speak in case you’ll sob. He doesn’t seem convinced, “I’ll try moving. I won’t go further in before you can handle it.”

You nod in approval, your heart beating so fast it is making your mind feel clouded. He begins to move with gentle, shallow thrusts of his hips, his eyes glued to you in search of anything that might tell him that it’s too much. The first few moments have you thinking that you might split in half but you find that the repeated fill of your cunt makes everything turn into a dull ache as you get used to it. Your noises are pained yet soft, soon switching to quiet moaning as he moves inside of you. 

“Doing so well,” he praises as you welcome him further without thinking. A sensation that you had thought would only be painful has kickstarted a different kind of feeling. It’s a warmth that spreads through your lower body, pleasure that mixes in with the rest in an almost insistent way. Marcus makes a noise that makes you clench around his cock, and he finds your mouth in a messy kiss, “I’m almost all the way in. It’s supposed to feel good. Does it feel good?” 

You nod repeatedly as you feel connected to him in a way that you never thought you would with another person. He is so deep inside of you and the discomfort that you thought would persist is fading away fast, leaving only a tug of pleasure that tightens more and more. You close your eyes and squeeze them shut as you moan a little louder for the first time. 

Without control of your body, your hips rise up to meet his and he fucks you a little harder. The friction is significantly more intense than what you have felt alone, but you can feel its effects mixing with your previous orgasm’s warmth. The room fills with the lewd sounds of your shared breaths and the scent of sex. 

Marcus’ hand settles on your hip, his incredible strength hauling your leg over his own hip so he can switch up the angle. Meanwhile, his other hand reaches down and pushes hard down on the back of your thigh to open you up even further to him. He stretches so his upper body towers over you and rolls his hips with controlled desire, mouth hanging open a little in his breathless state as he concentrates on making the pain disappear completely. 

It does a moment later. An involuntary moan leaves you when the head of his cock slides over a spot that seems different from every other place inside of you. Your eyes fly open after having been squeezed shut for so many seconds, fireworks going off in your peripheral vision. Your gaze moves down between your bodies to see a faint trace of red on his cock, setting your heartbeat into overdrive. You should be shoving him off now that you are bleeding but what the hell felt so good? He hits the same spot once again to make you cry out and crane your neck. 

“You like that? Was that all I had to do?” He asks with a satisfied smirk, breathing raggedly on top of you as he treats you to even more of the same pleasure. You want to come again, your hips rising to meet his thrusts more insistently if it means him giving you pleasure like that over and over again without fail. As your pleasure starts building into another peak, a shocked laugh leaves you. 

“How do you… How did you—?“ You start. 

“I knew where I wanted to reach. Feel that? That spot is made for feeling good,” he explains with a voice rough with his own pleasure before you manage to finish your inexperienced question, “I wanna hit that over and over, fill you up so you can feel it there for days when I’m done.” 

“Don’t stop,” you groan. 

“I’m not going to,” he promises but instincts tell you to make sure, that if he even falters a little, you’ll feel the frustration of no release like you have since you discovered what is between your legs. You tighten your thighs around his hips, locking your ankles around the small of his back and the move makes Marcus growl. 

He, who you are ready to call a master in the art of love, leans down over you and drives into you like a wild animal. You whimper but it isn’t of pain, the familiar feeling of ecstasy building rapidly between your legs again. He feels huge inside of you, the whole length of him throbbing against your overstretched walls. 

And he kisses you, seemingly not in control of himself anymore when he feels the same pressure in his lower abdomen. It is messy and sweet and rough at the same time, your hands cupping his face until they automatically slide up into his hair. You can feel his chest rub against your breasts, your nipples more sensitive than they ever have been and you moan as a fact runs through your head. No man has ever been this close to you before. Only the sun’s rays or the clouds’ rain has been this close to you.

You come once more with this thought in your mind, the intense and warm feeling hitting you as suddenly as the snapping of a dry twig found in the sun. You arch your back with a groan, feeling it even deeper inside of you than before because it seems to be the spot inside of you that has triggered it. 

“Oh! Oh Gods,” you moan into the air, Marcus’ lips having descended to your now-exposed neck and kissing with the same fervor as he had your mouth. His own noises have grown in volume, his cock seeming to respond to how your heat clenches around it. You have tears coming down your face without knowing why; you aren’t upset but rather quite the opposite. Everything below your navel is sensitive, slick, and used up. 

You feel it as he goes rigid as you have just done, a rough growl leaving him as he has his own orgasm. However, you instantly realize that Cassius forgot to mention something in his horrible renditions of love-making; the sticky, warm waves that come along with a man’s ultimate pleasure. You gasp in shock, looking down between the two of you as Marcus fills you up with his seed.

You cling to him, your hands grabbing at whatever they can while you whimper, and you stare at the milky white ring that forms around his length. He keeps going for a few thrusts more, and the noises coming from your connected bodies are on the verge of making you embarrassed. It’s squeaky and wet, but it’s not making you want to pull away. Instead, it makes you reach up to cup Marcus’ face so you drag his lips to your mouth and kiss him, the sensation of his seed inside of you making you feel more connected than ever.

You kiss for a moment before your husband buries his face in your neck. He leaves you empty when he softens, eliciting a weak gasp from you when you become aware of the sticky wetness smearing your inner thighs. Marcus pants against your already burning skin and chuckles without any particular reason. You are in awe of what has just happened, seeming to somehow know that this was the completion of the act. 

This act, once so unfamiliar and feared, now feels like a revelation to you. The new dimension of pleasure, so uniquely intense and intimate, makes you wonder how anyone gets anything done when they can do this all the time. You are sticky with sweat, dizzy with tears and pleasure, and by the Gods, you want to do it again and again with him. He will not leave this bed until you get tired of feeling this way between your legs. You think of commanding him this but you are already aware that it is an impossibility. He would probably laugh at you but given the way he lifts his head and looks at you now, he might also follow through on your order by sinking back into the mess between your legs.

You miss his weight on you when he rolls off, the both of you staring towards the ceiling. The room becomes very quiet in the aftermath, torches and candlelight flickering around you. You have a hand on your chest, trying to calm your racing heartbeat to no avail and breathing rapidly to catch your breath. Your whole body buzzes, feeling like it is aglow and warm, and you dare sometimes look at your husband out of the corner of your eye. He looks the same but less surprised by the state he is in, clearly experienced and you find it all enticing when everything inside you has shifted.

You let your back and legs relax fully into the bed. Marcus watches as you stretch your body, and there is some kind of tension between you that you cannot put into words. You know it stems from the silence that is also between you, an unspoken game of who breaks it first, and when you dare peek at him, you find him staring right back at you. Your heart rate spikes once more but Marcus holds your gaze in a way that makes you unable to look away. 

“Are you alright?” He asks after a beat. You see him look at you with a softness that reflects how vulnerable you must look right now. He reaches out to take your hand, brushing your knuckles with his thumb, “You are not in pain?”

“No. I– I’m fine,” you shake your head. You say the words and realize that they are true even despite your uncertainty at first. For now, your body feels afloat but you have a gnawing feeling that it won’t last. A thought enters your mind, “What do we do now? I mean, what does one do after being together like this?”

“Well, given our roles and the expectations placed upon our union, there’s a thing that I would like to do. I’d like to help you arrange yourself comfortably if you’ll allow me,” he gently releases your hand and shifts to sit upright beside you. 

You give him a puzzled look, not sure what he is talking about but you nod. It’s natural to trust him, you find, and his proposition intrigues you, “Yes, of course.”

Marcus reaches for the pillow against the headboard on his side of the bed. He fluffs it with care before patting your thigh, causing you to follow your instincts and automatically lift your pelvis towards the ceiling. When you have given him the room for it, he slips the soft pillow underneath your hips to elevate them, resulting in them laying comfortably at a gentle angle. 

Afterwards, he lies back down beside you but this time with his body facing yours. You try to smile at him but there’s embarrassment in your chest as the intention behind his act becomes clear. However, even as he senses your vulnerability, your new husband simply reaches for your hand again to kiss your knuckles. It is soft and intimate, it is kind reassurance in your time of transition. 

A moment after, he guides you to rest your palm just below your navel and places his own on top of it, caressing where new life may spring after tonight if Goddess Juno has the both of you in her favor.

"The pillow will help," he says quietly as he gently feels the soft skin on your stomach, the skin made to carry a child, "To ensure that our union bears fruit. Our alliance is only strong if I put a baby in your belly."

The words remind you of how your partnership is a part of something much bigger than yourselves, something to do with your father’s power and greed that you aren’t sure if Marcus feels too. Yet despite the impersonal nature of your union, the General’s tone is gentle and speaks of more than just mere duty. 

“And while we wait? What then?” You question, daring to entwine your fingers and feeling your chest flutter when he doesn’t protest. 

“We may rest…” He suggests with a smile, “Or, if you prefer, we may talk. It is different in every marriage.” 

There’s something about the way he words it that makes you feel more secure in your situation, that even if this is new territory, he is giving you permission to join in on shaping your relationship. 

You nod, “I think I would like to talk.”

“Then talk we shall,” he agrees without question, “Tell me something about yourself.”

You let go of his hand to place both palms on your stomach, looking to the ceiling as you reminisce about the life you have left behind back home. You tell him about the river all over again, about the sparkles the sun leaves on the surface of it, so beautiful it makes it seem like you can pick them with your bare hands. You tell him about wine and bread from the market, about a secret orange tree that you think only you and your sisters know of, and then you tell him about your sisters who all married for love. 

The latter makes Marcus shift slightly. A fleeting expression crosses his face before he gently clears his throat and gives you a small, hesitant smile to reassure you, “Do you think you’ll be happy here?” 

You take a moment to mull it over. You don’t want to lie to him but he looks so hopeful and sad at the same time, “I suppose that there’s always going to be a part of me that is going to wonder what would have happened if I had followed my own path and married someone I was deeply in love with, but I hope I will find happiness here. Perhaps it would have been you anyway, you never know. I would be as lucky as my sisters then.”

You say the last sentence with a twinkle in your eye, a soft and playful smile on your face, and Marcus looks almost shy, the importance and duty that he usually carries crumbling. You take the opportunity to see further under the surface, “And what about you? Do you have family that you are close to? I couldn’t help but notice that there were no formal introductions at the festivities.”

He hesitates briefly before answering, “My parents passed when I was merely a child. Thus the military became my family in many ways. I’ve always admired their dedication to each other. The responsibilities for the men I command seem like the next closest thing.”

“I’m sorry about your parents,” you say sincerely, touching his wrist gently, “I suppose it explains your dedication.”

He looks modest as he smiles, “I suppose it does.”

There’s a comfortable silence in the large chamber. Marcus looks down at your hand, opening his palm to invite you to place your own in it. You take his hand without hesitation and it feels natural, a thing so calming and warm, which invites you to venture further into his world. 

“May I ask you something?” You ask. 

“Of course,” he replies.

“Our conversation was interrupted earlier by one of your men, and I wanted to ask what was whispered in your ear. I hope I am not intruding—“ You tiptoe into the conversation, hoping your curiosity doesn’t come off too strong. 

He interrupts you, waving a hand dismissively, “We are husband and wife. I support the idea that we shouldn’t keep secrets from each other.”

“Yes. Yes, I quite agree with that,” you say with relief in your voice, “So you’ll tell me?”

“There was some unrest in the city today. The man was one of my men telling me that there’d been an incident - a confrontation - in one of the town squares. It led to the death of two of my soldiers.”

You gasp, “Gods! That’s terrible!” 

“The loss is shameful and upsetting, yes, but the people are hungry,” he explains simply, “Even the smallest of disputes can escalate when tensions are high. When one feels unheard by leaders, one can be driven to acts one might never have considered before.”

“But surely Rome’s subjects know better than to challenge Roman authorities?” You note with your brows furrowed, suddenly finding yourself speaking words that you have heard too many times around the dinner table at your childhood home, "A firm hand might be necessary to keep the peace. If the people are allowed this kind of behavior towards the empire - and thus the emperors - they might sometimes need to be reminded of their place."

There’s a shift so small that you could almost miss it in Marcus’ expression but disappointment clouds his eyes. You notice it because he follows it by subtly slipping his hand out of yours. He measures you with his gaze for a moment, “You don’t truly believe that instilling fear with unyielding force is the right way to rule?”

You sense his disapproval and feel embarrassed flood your system. With warm cheeks, you sit up and stutter a reply, "I... I suppose that's what I've been taught. My father always says that strength and control keep the empire strong and unwavering."

“And if I ask you to look past your upbringing?” He says it casually but there’s a command in his voice. Suddenly, the security you had felt moments ago is washed away by the feeling of being a mere little girl.

You look down at your hands, not able to keep eye contact despite how close you have just been, "I didn't mean to offend. I don’t— I don’t think I have ever taken the time to consider other perspectives. My father has given little room for such discussion."

“Is that so?” He raises a brow, “And does he seek influence in Rome’s leadership?”

"Yes," you reply hesitantly, still yet unaware of the implications of your words, "He hopes that our marriage might help him gain favor, perhaps even become an advisor to the emperors."

“It seems like your father was unaware of the fact that I served under Maximus Decimus Meridius, a man who believed in ruling with honor instead of fear. He would have done himself a favor by seeking alliances elsewhere if he aligns himself with ruling through oppression. Perhaps he should have married you off to the emperors themselves,” he says firmly, jaw tight and words filled with frustration, tingeing on angry. They come out a lot more venomous than you think are his intentions yet they sting nonetheless and you have to bite your lip to keep tears at bay. 

“I didn’t— I’m sorry, I was just repeating what I have always heard,” you stammer, swallowing around a lump in your throat. The vulnerability of your situation suddenly crashes over you like a wave trying to drown you, making you choke on a sob as his hard gaze scrutinizes you. You are young, barely out of childhood, and thrust into the role of a wife. You have never been expected to relay your views to anyone let alone a commanding general of the highest order in Rome. 

For a moment, an uncomfortable silence fills up the growing distance between you. You try to shift away on the bed but there’s a sudden ache between your legs from the previous activities of your wedding night. It’s shameful to look back at him but you have no one else to turn to right now. A tear escapes your eye but you find the courage to say what you need to say even if it is with a dizzying heartbeat, “My whole life, I have been taught to be obedient, to serve along with my sisters. My mother even. I don’t know who I am outside of that.”

Marcus suddenly mirrors your expression of shame, evidently grappling with his own emotions behind his eyes. He gently lifts his hand to catch the tear running down your face until it threatens to drip down from your chin. 

“Forgive me, I should not have raised my voice at you,” he says sincerely. He cups your cheek with a softening demeanor and you allow him, needing the affection and this is where you can receive it, “I know you have your concerns but I hope you can entertain the idea that this union might not just be a different cage.”

You nod, leaning your cheek into his gentle touch and earning a smile. There’s a promise beneath his words and despite everything, you allow yourself to feel hopeful. This man is not your father, actually far from it, and he is offering you something you are not used to; partnership and respect. 

Instead of answering him, you chew on your bottom lip and try to find the same courage that made him apologize so you can address the ache in your lower body. The pillow under your legs is all askew. You try to busy yourself by straightening it, “It has started to hurt where you…— Is that normal?”

"It can be," he says gently, and the hand on your cheek goes to skim over your bare thigh in an attempt to soothe,  "Your body needs time to adjust and recover.”

You pout as you automatically lie down again. You look like a child not getting their way, “Time to recover? Does this mean we can’t do it again?” 

Marcus’ expression flashes with amusement at your eagerness. He raises a brow, “Eager, aren't we? I admire your enthusiasm, but it's important that you give yourself time to heal. Rest might help.”

“Surely there's something else we can do?” You only just abstain from pleading him, tilting your head.

“This, my dear wife, was your husband's subtle way of saying goodnight,” Marcus chuckles quietly and you find that all tension has slipped from the room once more. He dips down to kiss your forehead, the tip of his nose skimming down the length of yours. He stares into your eyes, only an inch from you, “Say it.”

You smile and kiss him softly, “Goodnight, Marcus.”

“Goodnight, Carissima,” he whispers.You go to sleep next to your general, the man who is slowly becoming the commander of your heartbeat, unaware that your conversation has changed the course of your father’s future gains from your powerful marriage.

.

.

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[simpxxstan]

i’ve just finished reading your wonwoo!fics from the 550 followers event and i decided i need to request something myself because they were just TOO GOOD

given that, i thought about police officer!wonwoo (or mingyu, i wouldn’t mind—) who’s like super handsome and hot and all but also super nice and helpful and loves cats and—

and maybe he’s living in the same neighbourhood as y/n and they just feel drawn towards each other? idk, i’m not really good at making up scenarios 😭😭

it can go both ways, starting fluffy and then get smutty or angsty, everything’s gonna be fine <3

all i know is that i need to read something from you again 🫶🏼🫶🏼

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST! so firstly, I apologise if I disappoint you because instead of wonu, I did mingyu, because I had this wildest fantasy about him but I hope you like it still!! And I also added a few twists in the plot, because I wanted to spice it up a bit. I really pray you'll enjoy my version too!

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here!

also, thank you to everyone who's interacted with the event <333 your enthusiasm is so so much appreciated! the event is still on till the end of this month so you can still send in requests, my inbox is open hehe :) also to those who have sent in requests, T_T i am SOR SORRY for making you wait but honestly i am trying my best :((( i will answer your request as soon as i can, thank you for your patience <3

genre: strangers to lovers, police and criminal au, smut, fluff, neighbours au

word count: 5k words

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT police officer!mingyu, discussions of illegal racing, gangs, criminals, criminal activities, gambling (but nothing is explicit except the racing activities). smut warnings: unprotected sex (please please do not do this irl), almost public sex, oral (m. receiving), making out, usage of pet names, size kink, mingyu's a perv for reader

It's been six months since Mingyu has shifted to this town, and he's not regretted it a single day. it's a wonderful, quaint little town, on the edge of the city, that's close enough to the hustle but far enough to not be a site for trouble. The people are lovely and they've really accepted him with a full heart- the old ladies who bring him their delicious cooked food during his lunch breaks, the young boys who follow his gym routine meticulously, the mothers who either shamelessly flirt with him or try to set up their children with him, the fathers who pat his back proudly after a long day of work, the children who run around his clean police station with curious eyes.

After his busy five years in his posting at the city, this feels like heaven to him. He had joined the force in his craving for adrenaline and his innate nature of being helpful to everyone had driven him deeper into the profession. But he's twenty-seven now, and maturity has dampened the fire within his soul, although not his desire for social peace and justice- hence his choice to shift here.

It's not a town renowned for crime, and most of his days are peaceful with minor reports of petty theft or pickpocketing. But Mingyu has his fair share of excitement- being on the outskirts of the city, the edges of the town are less tame than the heart of it. It's a den for many gangs- all linked by the illegal racing grounds outside the town. Mingyu doesn't have any way to reach the gangs- they're being pursued by the force in the bigger cities with far more resources than sanctioned to his police station. But he tries to ensure the gangs and their dirty business doesn't get into his town. And Mingyu has his hands full with it.

But being busy keeps Mingyu happy. He's loved by the townsfolk and he's found a kind of peace here, different and yet beautiful. It's a slow town, and he's fallen into a routine that's good for his slowing-down body and his slowing-down mind.

So it's been a long, long day of work and at the end of the week, he's tired and ready to fall into his bed after eating anything that's in the fridge. But when he's walking up the stairs of his apartment building, his eyes meet a scene that's out of routine.

"Hello? Can I help you?" Mingyu walks up quickly as he sees you struggle to pull up two suitcases up the stairs, along with the clearly heavy rucksack on your back. "No! Thanks, no, I'm fine." "Please allow me, I live right here on this floor." And Mingyu casually picks up the suitcases, with a smile on his face. He doesn't miss the ways your body relaxes instantly and your eyes light up. "Umm, I'm here on this floor too. Just moved in into 309." "And I'm in 311. Right across your flat!" "I'm so happy to meet a neighbour already. I'm Y/N." "And I'm Mingyu."

And Mingyu feels the exhaustion of the day wear out when he sees your whole smile- not a tight-lipped smile, but the one that shows your teeth and your dimples. Well, dimple. There's only one big dimple on your left cheek, and it's a beautiful smile that stays on Mingyu's mind long through the night after you disappear into your flat and Mingyu goes into his own.

_

Mingyu doesn't know why he's suddenly choosing to skip his daily gym routine in favour of a run through the town at 5.30 am (nearly an hour before he's ever woken up in his entire life). Maybe one day he wakes up at 5.30 to use the washroom but spots you leave the building in your jogging shorts and earplugs. He joins the dots and his body joins them too- safe to say, he couldn't sleep again that morning. And neither the morning after that, because he's determined to join you on your run.

You don't talk much except brief interactions, and your speed is much faster than him, but he doesn't mind the exhaustion. The wink you throw him every time he lags behind and the bottle of water you offer him right after you drink from it too is enough motivation for him to keep running. Of course it helps that you compliment the way his muscles strain through his tank top and Mingyu's chest blows up even further with pride.

And it's so subtle, but Mingyu feels you slowly open up more to him.

It's in the won't you come in for coffee? I make a mean iced coffee.

It's in the I was shopping for groceries and brought you cooking oil, since you were asking for it yesterday. I thought you may not have had the time to go for shopping, since you're so busy at work.

It's in the see this magnet? my baby cousin made it.

And Mingyu goes to you like a moth drawn to a flame. He's drawn to you when he decides to take you out (for a friendly afternoon outing, he calls it officially, but internally he's treating it as a date). He's drawn to you when you show him around the veterinary where you work. He's drawn to you when he sees you eating ice cream on his couch after he's cooked dinner for the two of you. He's drawn to you when you barely touch his arm and tell him that you really like all your neighbours and the entire community in the town is great, but you're especially glad to have found Mingyu because he's one of the only people here who's near your age. And he's drawn to you when you smile for him, that rich, dimpled smile, after he tells you that you're exactly the friend he's been looking for since he's come here.

After that, Mingyu doesn't know what happens in what order. Do you kiss him first? Or does he kiss you first? Do you climb into his lap? Or does he pull you onto him? Do you bite his lip when his hands wander down to your ass that he's been eyeing for weeks now on every morning run? Or does he bite your lip when your hands weave through his hair? It's a blur, and when you pull back for a breath, your lips swollen, the first button of your shirt open, and a hickey already blooming near your collarbone, Mingyu knows only one thing. How he wants. Wants you. Wants more. Wants now-

"Mingyu, I- I don't know how to say this... it's not like I didn't like this. And I- I- umm. Maybe I should leave? Because if I stay I won't be able to hold back and I want to think about this a little bit?"

And oh, your eyes are so wide and so pretty, and the skin of your arms feel like butter under his touch, but he lets you go. He lets you walk away, a shy smile on your lips. He lets you kiss him on his cheek once before disappearing into your own flat, and Mingyu shuts the door and takes deep breaths as he leans on his door.

He's ready to give you all the time in the world to think, but he's sure that he's already yours. He just knows at the end of it, he needs to make you his too.

_

"Hello, darling."

The tone on the other end is unmistakable, and Mingyu sighs. "Don't try to seduce me, love. It's not gonna work." He's said this before, but the message clearly hasn't gotten through. The honey voice drawls on in a painfully slow pace, "You're late tonight. What's up?" "I was busy," he huffs, his heart still beating fast from making out with you a few minutes ago.

"Busy? Unbelievable." "A police officer can't be busy? Is it so unfathomable?" "No. What's unfathomable is that Kim Mingyu is off his routine. I wonder if there's something new... or someone new?"

The voice laughs, and Mingyu knows it's friendly prodding. His relationship with the person on the other side of the line might be anything but friendly but it's yet again become a part of his routine, and at least the friendly banter breaks the monotony.

"Are you jealous that I talk to women apart from you?" Mingyu smirks, knowing two can play this game.

"I'm jealous that she's taking up my time. You have to show her what's her place, really."

"Don't be rude love. You know I've got my ears on your voice only. Now, tell me if you have any news."

"Oh, getting straight to the point, I see..."

"Oh come on!"

The voice becomes serious instantly. Gone is the sexy drawl, and it's replaced by crisp words that are music to Mingyu's ears. "I've heard Taffy's gang making some noise in the borders. You might wanna come and look at it once for yourself."

"Do you have any more information?"

"Nothing much right now, officer. Look, I'm holding up my end of the bargain but you've got to be patient."

Mingyu groans. It's not good news, and it's certainly not enough news. But he'll take a look himself to make sure he understands the graveness of the situation correctly.

"Okay. When should I come? Tell me when Taffy's men are lurking around the area?"

The voice shifts again into a teasing, seductive tone, making Mingyu jerk at the sudden transition.

"Come tomorrow? Race night."

"Yeah no that's not happening. I'll-"

"Tomorrow, babe. Wanna see you race. A big boy like you likes his fast bikes, don't you?"

The thought of racing sends a spike of adrenaline rushing through his veins, but he knows this is illegal. It's one thing allowing the leader of the races to become his informant so that he can keep an eye on the circuit as well as get key pieces of information that remain hidden to the legal eye. But it's an entirely different thing getting into the centre of the mess himself and be involved in it.

And yet, a part of him wants to feel the thrill again. Tonight, after years, he felt that adrenaline rushing through him when you'd tugged at his collar and kissed him repeatedly. Fuck. It had felt good, hadn't it? One night won't matter, will it?

"I'll be there."

"Fantastic. Can't wait to see you, babe."

_

Mingyu doesn't see you the next morning. He waits outside your door at 5.30, but doesn't knock, hoping you'll come out eventually. But you don't. He doesn't spot you through the rest of the day either, and it makes him worry. But he's decided to give you your space and time, so he will be patient... at least for one more day.

It's a Sunday so Mingyu has a half-day at work. When he's back from work, his mind is still all over the place. Should he even go to the race tonight? He's raced a bit back in college days, but everything pretty legal. Nothing like the den of vice he knows he's going to walk into tonight. But he also knows that this is the best way for him to infiltrate through the layers of middlemen that stop information from reaching his ears.

By the time 8.30 comes around, there's no text from you. Instead, there's a text from his informant, saved under the codename of layla (he knows it's not her real name, but he doesn't care enough to ask about it).

I'll see you at the circuit tonight, darling. Don't be late.

Mingyu's heart speeds up. Is it wrong to feel excited right now? As a conscientious police officer, he should definitely not feel excited. But as nothing more than a man, he feels his blood become warm at the thought of meeting the woman behind that voice he's spoken to for almost three months now. He's almost 100% sure the voice isn't generated by a voice modifier or AI, but it's also impossible for that to be someone's real voice, so there must be some pitch changes or something along those lines. Nevertheless, their conversations has often made him wonder about the woman herself.

She's a shadow- no one really knows who she is. But about four months ago, when she'd called him up herself to supply information in order to buy protection for herself and her racing infrastructure, Mingyu had yielded instantly by weighing his priorities. And since then, he's tried endless times to put a face to the voice, but it's been a search in vain.

Not tonight.

Tonight, he's gonna see the face for himself and put all his wandering thoughts to rest. Thoughts late at night after a particularly long phone call with his informant, that made him wonder whether the flirting was real or all for show. Wonder whether the woman herself would be as sexy as the voice. And wonder what kind of woman she must be in order to be capable enough to singlehandedly run an entire illegal racing system.

Fuck it, Mingyu thinks, after seeing the clock strike 8.45 and still no contact from your end. He wears a black tank top along with a black leather jacket- intending to fit right into the crowd he expects to see there. He just hopes there's no one else there who'll recognise him. And he certainly hopes nothing will happen to make him regret this decision for life.

_

You're such a fool, Mingyu, he thinks to himself. You're such a fool for thinking you'd fit in.

Mingyu may be just twenty-seven but he doesn't feel young at all when he sees the crowd at the race. The people here must be of his age, but they all seem so different from him. Perhaps it's because his job has taken away his youth that he'll always feel perpetually distant from even people of his own age.

And so Mingyu stands there awkwardly, stiff amidst a crowd of half-drunk and half-high people, wearing colourful headbands and smearing eclectic neon colours on their skin. He feels out of place- and yet, a part of him wishes he could fit in. He wishes he could have enjoyed his youth like this- on the edge of the other side of the law. He wishes he could have lived like this for even moment of his life- beyond academics, beyond career, beyond mere survival.

"Hi beautiful, looking for someone?" A woman with a cigarette between her fingers strolls up to him. Her hair is flying in the wind, exposing the tattoos all over her skin.

Before Mingyu can say anything, the crowd around him suddenly erupts in loud cheers, and she quickly pulls his hand and drags him towards the centre of the entire crowd. He sees two bikers mount on their bikes- exquisitely reworked to glow in the dark. A woman hops up on a platform in the middle of the two bikers and lifts a gun towards the sky. And as the crowd counts down, she shoots the gun right after 1 and the two bikers zoom out into the blackness ahead, the crowd going wild with cheers for the biker they support.

The scene makes Mingyu's skin feel alive too- the sheer speed of the two bikes, the sound of the engines revving and the general merriness around him induces adrenaline to flow through his veins. When he turns to look at the woman next to him, he sees her looking at him with a curious smile on her face. "Umm, I'm... I'm not really here for the race."

"You're not? Layla told me you would be." The smile on her face deepens, and Mingyu gasps. "You know Layla?" "I do. But that's not important. Let's get you on a bike, hmm?" Mingyu's somehow missed to noticed how her hand's still on his arm, gently stroking his bicep over his jacket. "No, really I don't want to." She steps right up close to him, "But you can try once, pretty boy." Her eyelashes cast long shadows on her cheeks, but Mingyu doesn't care. "I don't want to try." "Let loose for one night." "I'm not here for fun. I'm here for work-" The woman in front of his laughs. "Yes Layla said that too. Don't worry, she's going to work. But only after you race against her."

Mingyu feels his heart speed up. Race against Layla? Fuck. Now, why does that sound so tempting? It makes him only more curious to meet his informant, because why must she make herself so mysterious?

"Are you her friend?" Mingyu knows that this woman is not Layla, because the voice doesn't match by miles. This woman here has a lisp in her voice, unlike Layla's clear diction, and no amount of pitch changing or machine alterations can change that (Mingyu knows that the hard way).

"I'm her sister. Well, kind of. Now, no more questions pretty boy. Next race starts in a few minutes. Let's get you on a bike!" And Mingyu finds himself in no position to protest as the woman drags him away without hearing him anymore.

_

In the blink of an eye, Mingyu finds himself on a beautiful beast of a motorbike, his entire body drunk on adrenaline. There's so many people he's never even met before, but they're hyping him up. The attention-whore in him goes crazy at the cheers. There's coloured smoke being released into the sky, and Mingyu wears his helmet to prevent it from clouding his eyes. And finally when the smoke fades away, he sees his opponent standing along side him.

Layla.

Fuck.

Still no face to the voice in his head, but it's still an enigmatic visual that draws Mingyu in and reels his mind. He watches the way her black latex pants hug her long legs as she swings her legs over her bike. And he watches the way her helmet covers her face but her hair's still flying in the air. There's something still mysterious about her, and yet so oddly familiar.

But before he can say or do anything, the crowd begins the countdown, and in a second, the gunshot goes off. And Mingyu zooms ahead, revving his engine from 0 to 100 in a moment, a smile spreading on his face as the excitement of the speed injects itself in his veins. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Layla take a spin around the corner of the racetrack, her stable figure undeterred by the sharp turn. Mingyu may not be a professional, but it's not the first time he's racing. He's done this before and he can feel that familiar thrill returning, as he picks up speed and makes up his mind to defeat his worthy opponent.

It's a long and winding course, but to Mingyu it feels like a few minutes only. The cold night air hits his body and makes him feel like he's flying. Soon the ending flag is in sight, and he sees Layla speed up, hunching over her bike, determined to get there first.

But at the last minute, she steps back, her posture loosening as she sits back and watches Mingyu whizz off ahead of her.

Fuck, he mutters under his breath. Knowing she let him win easily hurts his ego, and he slows the bike down as they drive into the nothingness of the deserted roads ahead. When he finally comes to a stop, he gets off the bike and sees her stand a few metres away from him, her helmet still on her head stretching her legs.

"Hey! Layla! You let me win! I would've won anyway- fair and sq-"

Layla spins around and takes off her helmet, her hair whipping across her face, and Mingyu finally sees the face behind the voice.

_

"Y/N?" Mingyu's eyes are wide, his brain running as fast as his bike was a short while back, as he tries to connect the dots.

The voice is unmistakable, now slightly higher in pitch, and Mingyu wants to kick himself as he realises how big a fool he's been. "We finally meet, Kim Mingyu." There's a beautiful smile on your face, one he's not seen before. There are other things too- there's a nose pin on your button nose, making your features look sharper, and a necklace hanging off your neck, which is odd since he's never seen you wear jewellery before.

"Y/N? H- wh- how?!"

You don't answer him. You simply walk towards him, your hips swaying and Mingyu groans at the sight of your pretty legs in those tight pants. Fuck him for not recognising that ass sooner in spite of being obsessed with it for weeks.

"I thought I should come clean to you, officer, before you make any choices." You casually slot yourself between his legs, as Mingyu leans back against his motorbike. "What do you think?"

What does he think?

He thinks he's a fool for not finding out more about you before falling for you. He thinks he's a fool for maintaining a contact with someone as dangerous as La- you. And he thinks he's a fool for finding you even sexier after discovering this persona of yours.

And he thinks he would be a fool with regrets for all his life if he lets go of you now.

So Mingyu grabs onto your hips, and pulls you closer.

"You've got me by my balls, baby. Got me eating out of your hand. And you know I happen to like it. So it doesn't matter what I think, love. What matters is what you think." His fingers rub against the skin exposed as your crop top rises up as you dangle your hands around his shoulders. You laugh at his words, pressing even closer to him, the air between you two turning to electricity. "It doesn't matter what I think either- because I'd fallen for you ages ago when I first saw you around in town. The new, dashing police officer, Kim Mingyu, enquiring about gangsters and fending himself off prying old ladies at the same time. Since then I've just wanted to make you mine." Mingyu's heart hasn't stopped thumping loudly all night, and at your confession, his body tingles with a dangerous feeling.

"Glad we're on the same page, baby."

_

"This is my office," you whisper to him in between kisses as you drag him to a shady-looking room at the back of the building that's on the edge of the racing circuit, now deserted because everyone's busy at the races. "Office?" Mingyu giggles, because the term is ridiculous. The place is anything but an office- with the way dishevelled boxes are just stacked everywhere, and instead of desks there are more pool tables and boxes of alcohol. It's a small, dingy place, and the single tubelight at the end of the corridor flickers every other minute, but it's a vibe. Mingyu's not unfamiliar with seedy places in his line of work, but it's so novel to think this is where you truly work.

But fuck him if he doesn't think it just makes you hotter. Because there's something about you being the boss of a pack of hundred delinquents associated with even more hardened criminals that makes his dick chub up real quick.

Like it is right now, when your hands make quick work of removing his jacket and throwing it on the floor as you touch his bare muscle. Mingyu carelessly runs a hand through his hair as he sees you push him onto a chair on a desk that's in your office, the room lit only by the mercy of the distant tubelight and the moonlight streaming in through the window panes. "Fuck, you're so big Mingyu. Let me blow you? Please? Wanted to do this for so long." Your eyes are so pretty as you bend in front of him, fingers lazily rubbing into the tent in his pants, making him hiss. "Go on, baby. Whatever you like. Fuck, but kiss me once more."

And you do. You taste like berries, and Mingyu loves it. Mingyu knows he's got it bad, but he doesn't care. You're on your knees and you want to blow him, and if this isn't the mental image to which he's jerked off for days now, he'd be damned. So he pushes you down in between his knees after kissing you to his heart's content, and you quickly take off his pants. "God," you almost drool and Mingyu whimpers when you take off his boxers too. "You're so fucking big, Gyu. Never seen such a big, pretty cock," you say reverently, as you pump it and it twitches in your hands. Your eyes go wide when you lick it and fit your mouth barely against the tip, and Mingyu throws his head back and moans. He's not going to last long, if just this much has got him feeling like this.

Thankfully, you don't tease him much, eager to feel the heavy weight on your tongue too. So you take him as much as your throat allows, and Mingyu feels himself on the brink of heaven. When you bob your head a couple of times, Mingyu reaches down to tug your hair back and you moan around his cock. The vibrations send him over, and he cums into your mouth even as you continue to suck him. When you finally pull off with a pop, another squirt from his dick leaves a string of white cum on your lips and Mingyu feels himself getting hard again.

"That was so hot baby. You're so hot," he says, as he picks you up from the floor and on the desk. It's so easy for him to manhandle you like that, and you pull him close quickly. "You're hotter, Gyu. Can't tell you what fantasies I've had about you in these last few months." Mingyu smirks, his hands removing your beautiful pants, and spreading your thighs apart as he feels his way through your folds. "Umm? Really? Now don't be a bad girl, and tell me what you've thought about me."

You open your mouth to say something but then Mingyu pinches your clit, and any words fall away as you moan out loudly. Your hands steady themselves on his biceps as Mingyu begins to finger you painfully slowly- to the extent that he can hear the squelching sounds, and it drives him crazy.

"Tell me, Y/N."

When your breathing slows down as you feel Mingyu driving two fingers into you at a steady pace, his eyes fixed on yours, biting his lip in concentration, you tell him softly.

"Before I shifted into the flat... I wondered what you'd be like from up close. Because I'd only seen you from afar. And after hearing your v- aaah- voice, it just got worse." You feel Mingyu stretching you, hitting your g-spot repeatedly as he kissed your neck.

"And then when I did shift in... fuck. It was so hard to not give in to you. Whenever you looked at me with your puppy eyes and y- y- your smile- ah, fuck I'm g- gonna cum, Mingyu!" You scream as he fingers you through your orgasm, and he licks his fingers clean once you come down from your high.

"Then who asked you to not give in to me?"

"I wanted to make sure you'd like me in real life and not judge me simply as an informant." Your simple, vulnerable words take his breath away, and Mingyu pulls off your top in one go. "Fuck, you're so cute baby. I'd like you in every form, in every life. You drive me crazy, do you know that?" And Mingyu knows that now, as you hold on to his shoulders as he enters you in one go. "God, you're so tight, Y/N. Tighter than your pretty mouth, fuck." He's trying so hard not to cum right now, but as you grip his hair and moan filthily, a stream of curses falling off your pretty lips, Mingyu lets his adrenaline take over. And he thrusts into you without any hesitance, hips moving fast, his balls heavy as he slams against you again and again. The desk creaks, and you pant in his ears, begging him to go harder, and Mingyu can feel the way your pussy clenches him at every thrust.

"Gonna cum, Gyu. Please-" Your nails dig into his nape, and it drives him over the edge. When you come along with him, there's a sharp buzz spreading through his body and he feels like he's gone to heaven.

He holds you close like that for the next few minutes, unable and uninterested in letting you go. When you both finally feel the high subside, you look up at him, a hazy smile on your face. "I really like you, Gyu. I hope you can like me too beyond who I am in this racing circuit. Trust me, it's.... it's not my entire life. I am a person bey-"

He kisses you quiet. "Stop explaining yourself." You try to protest, but he kisses you again. "You know Y/N, I think I liked you from the first day I met you. And I get what you're saying but... trust me. Fuck. I don't know how to say this. But safe to say if I thought you were amazing as Y/N? I think you're absolutely the epitome of perfection as Y/N plus Layla. So hot, so gorgeous, and I love every bit of you."

And then there's that single-dimpled smile again.

"I also like the nose pin. Why'd you take it off?"

You giggle, "Didn't want it to be a deal-breaker once I had my mind set on you."

Mingyu kisses your nose at the pin itself and you shiver in his arms.

"Nothing about you can be a deal-breaker, baby."

[novaiya]

Arthur Morgan x Reader NSFW Alphabet

AO3 Link.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Arthur’s very lovey-dovey after sex. He’ll shower you in kisses and hold your body so close to his that you’ll feel his heartbeat. Affection is something he craves, and that hunger will only grow tenfold as the post-coital bliss washes over him. Falling asleep with you by his side, your naked body pressed against his, your head on his chest feels like home to him, where he can be free and safe.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his arms and hands. Not only are they a powerful tool that he uses on the daily to kill, rob, and steal, they also come in handy (hehe) in the bedroom. He’ll run his hands all over your body, pinching, touching, twisting. The feeling of your skin under his fingers is intoxicating, and so is the knowledge that it’s his touch that can make you moan and writhe in pleasure.

When it comes to you, it’s hard for him to pick just one favorite aspect. He loves every part of you, from your legs, to your hips and your waist, to your breasts and of course your face. If he absolutely has to choose, then he’ll pick your waist. He feels content when he has his hand on your waist, bringing you close to him and feeling your body next to his, be it when the two of you are out, or simply sitting by the campfire in camp.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves coming inside of you, be it in your mouth or your pussy. There’s just something so intimate and romantic in the feeling of being enveloped by your warm walls as he reaches his own release.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes to be dominated from time to time. It’s easy to understand; Arthur always has to take the lead, be the protector and the leader of the gang, making sure the people are safe and fed. It’s a lot of responsibility, and it weighs heavy on his shoulders. Sometimes he just wants to let go and have somebody else be in control. This want seeps into your intimate life, and at first, he’s embarrassed to voice it. He’s so used to being the strong, masculine outlaw that he’s not sure how to be anything else but that. You sense that something is wrong, so after a lot of prying and kissing he relents and tells you what he’s been thinking. He’s expecting you to laugh at him and dismiss his thoughts as silly, but you don’t. You ask if that’s what he really wants, and he nods. The night takes a completely different turn, with you having your way with Arthur, taking control of his pleasures. You’ll have him on the edge, teasing him relentlessly only to not give him what he needs.

“You think you deserve to cum?” you’ll say, nipping at his ear. “Think you’ve been good?”

He’ll moan your name, bucking his hips towards you and say, “Please.”

“That’s Madame for you,” you’ll correct him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

You wanna thank the woman (or women) who taught Arthur what he knows. From sucking on your clit, to hitting your G spot and nipping on your neck, the man knows every secret in the book that will have your toes curling and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Another great thing about him is that not only is he experienced, but he’s open to learning and trying something new. He’s not the type of man to get upset if you correct him on his technique. If you don’t like something and tell him to do it differently, he’s more than happy to correct himself. Your pleasure is more important than his ego.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

With you on your stomach and him on top, fucking you into the mattress. He loves the classic such as missionary and cowgirl during which he can see your face, but there’s something so intimate in being pressed so close against you, his chest touching your back.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Arthur is somewhere in the middle, leaning more towards serious. He can laugh during the process, but more often than not he’s concentrated, lost in pleasure and lust.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Arthur is hairy all over; from his head to his chest to his legs, and, well, there too. If it bothers you, he has no problem trimming down there, but he himself doesn’t care.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

During your love making (and it is love making, not fucking (thought that happens too sometimes)), he’s very romantic, making sure to tell you, “You’re so beautiful” and “I love you so much, darlin’.” He’ll shower your body in kisses, worshiping you like the goddess you are, kissing every inch of skin and murmuring praises and love confessions. The time you spend in each other's arms, bringing each other pleasure is not only about satisfying your carnal desires, it’s about being close, becoming one and showing just how much you love each other. It’s a process that neither of you want to rush, sometimes spending hours in each other’s arms, proving your love all. night. long.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

The two of you spend almost every waking hour together, but sometimes there are jobs that Arthur has to do alone (like bounty hunting or collecting debts). Some of those jobs are quick, and if he leaves in the morning he’s back in camp right before supper to spend the night with you. Others, however, can stretch for days, even longer if his destination is way out in the country. When he’s away from you for that long, taking himself in his hand is all he can do. He’ll wrap his fingers around his cock, starting with slow up and down movements, imagining it’s your hand and not his. He’ll bring to memory the image of your naked body under his, the sound of your voice moaning his name and the feeling of your walls spasming around him. If he’s alone, he’ll moan your name under his breath, his cock twitching in his hand as he’s nearing his release. With a cry of your name he’ll come, spilling himself on the ground, his hand working his cock to push every drop out.

It’s not the same as having you with him, that’s for sure, but it’ll have to do before he can have the real you in-front of him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Light bondage. He enjoys tying you up, like your hands behind your back or your hands to the bedpost. If the two of you are in a particular mood, he might even tie up your legs. After telling you his “dirty secret”, he enjoys being the one tied up as well. Both of you know he can get out of the ties easily, break the rope with just a flex of his muscles, but it’s the knowledge that he’s tied down and at your mercy that turns him on.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Somewhere that has a full sized bed (preferably a king sized one). As much as he enjoys the cozy atmosphere of his tent and the familiarity of his cot, it can be a bit annoying with two full sized adults trying to go at it on a bed that was made only for one person.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He loves hearing you moan his name, the sound of it coming broken and shaky from your lips. Feeling your legs shake, your body writhe and your hands holding on to him for support is his biggest motivation to work harder to bring you to your release, wanting nothing more than to see you fall apart to his touch.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degradation and physical abuse. A spank on your ass here and there is okay, and so is dirty talk, but nothing that crosses a line into actual degradation and physical abuse.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Homeboy loves getting his dick sucked. Having you on your knees with his cock in your mouth is one of the images that warms up his soul when he’s alone and away from you.

As far as giving, he enjoys it, and can spend hours between your thighs, lapping at your like you’re his last meal. He enjoys how you are when you’re nearing your release, your thighs shaking on his shoulders, your fingers holding on to his hair and holding him where you need him. Once your orgasm washes over you and you’re laying on the bed, panting, your eyes closed, he’ll emerge from between your legs, licking his lips, a satisfied smirk on them.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Arthur prefers slow, sensual lovemaking to rough and fast fucking any day of the week. He enjoys dragging his cock in and out of your pussy, the slow strokes driving you insane. His pace would be slow, but it would be deep and intense, making you see stars each time he hits a spot inside of you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

With how often Arthur has to go on jobs, quickies are a necessity in your relationship. Sometimes, he’ll only be in camp for an hour or two before heading back out, so as much as he’d love to pull down the flaps of his tent and ravish your body for hours on end, a quickie is all he can afford.

He’ll have you pinned to a tree on the outskirts of camp, his pants pulled down enough to pull out his dick, your skirt hiked up and your drawers pushed to the side. You’ll bite down on your fingers, trying to keep your moans at minimum as he pushes in you, his girth stretching you as it always does. It’ll be quick, dirty and sinfully delicious, and it will leave you craving more, waiting for Arthur to come back as soon as possible.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Arthur’s always game to try something new as long as it’s safe and both of you are on the same page.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Arthur can go all night long. The man has an implacable self control, and he can make you come countless times before cumming himself.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Arthur is a type of man that wants to do everything himself, be it cooking his own meals instead or ordering UberEats, or making you cum with his fingers instead of a vibrator. Personally, he doesn’t see a necessity for toys, but if it’s something you wanna try, he’s more than happy to use them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

When he’s in a mood, Arthur can tease you ceaselessly. He’ll have you on the edge of orgasm for hours, making you think that he’s about to give you what you want, only to pull away at the last possible moment. You’ll be a shaking, moaning mess by the end of it, teetering on the edge of insanity and begging him to finally let you cum. He’ll smile that devilish smile, perhaps even cock his head to the side and take a moment to think before saying, “Nah,” and go back to teasing you for hours more.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

When the two of you are in camp, Arthur has no problem at keeping his volume to a minimum. He’ll grunt here and there, maybe let out a moan a few times, but nothing over the top, because he doesn’t want to bother other gang members. When the two of you are alone however, it’s a completely different story. The man moans. He lets out grunts, sighs and moans, but most of all, he lets out praises and comments.

“Shit, darlin’, you’re so tight,” he would grunt as he slips in your heat, “Gonna make me bust already.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he’d say as he circles your clit with his fingers, bringing you to your release for the unpteenth time that day, “I know you got it in you.”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The idea of you getting pregnant turns him on, a lot. The two of you are not actively trying to get pregnant, but the knowledge that he could do that to you, could put a baby in you and have you swollen and with a big belly because of him turns him on. When the two of you do decide to try for a child, he’ll be the one tracking your cycle and seeing which days you’re ovulating. On those days, you’ll barely leave the bed, only taking time to eat and relieve yourself before going back to making love in hopes of expanding your family.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Arthur’s hung. That’s all.

Jk, that’s not all. He’s long and thick, something that made a shiver run down your spine the first time you saw him naked. Even after being together for however long you were, his girth still manages to stretch you to your limits and need a moment to get used to. Arthur would never say it, but hearing you say, “You’re so big” gives him a high for hours and feeds his ego like nothing else.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Before getting in a relationship with you, Arthur’s sex drive was mediocre. He might’ve sought the company of working girls a couple of times a month, but that was more like scratching an itch and not doing it out of pure lust. After getting in a relationship with you however, well, that’s a different story. Just the sight of you walking through camp can set his mind on fire. He has a hard time keeping his hands off of you, and can be a big distraction when you have to work. If you’re game, he’ll have you multiple times throughout the day; in the morning, after lunch during your guard duty, at night in the tent. The man wants you all the time and he’s not shy to tell you so.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Arthur is the type of man to fall asleep with his face in your tits. As soon as he makes sure that both of you are clean and comfortable, he’s out. He’ll be scooping you up in his arms and snoring in no time (and so will you, because Arthur’s snores and his warm chest is better than any Melatonin)

[sashi-ya]

Hiii can you do Zoro and Sanji (seperate) for the spicy week event🌶 and can it be number 47🤭

Hi!! of course! I hope you like it! Thanks for requesting 💖 ~

NSFW ~ Roronoa Zoro and Sanji x F! Reader ~ A competition ~

Kinks:

🌶 #47: Squirting

TW: NSFW. Squirting. Fingering. Masturbating. Oral sex.

WC: 1054

A/N: So I thought about what could possibly motivate this two to make their S/O squirt, and I came up with a competition between them because of a tweet. So I hope you enjoy this idea ♥ ~

I created the fake tweet with an app called "Tweet Creator" on my phone

A normal day in Zoro & Sanji’s life. A tweet that motivated new experiences for both of them and their S/Os...

@ Zoro’s House.

“Oi, Y/n, what the fuck is “making a girl squirt”?”, asks Zoro while entering the room. You are on a zoom call meeting, but luckily no one heard your boyfriend because you are muted. “Zoro… what the fuck. I’m working. Why are you asking me that??” you say scandalized. “The stupid ero cook told me on Twitter I haven’t ever made you “squirt” ...”, he says, yawning. You try not to laugh, but it’s almost impossible. Zoro is a very inexperienced man, yet he learns really quick and has an innate talent to send you to heaven. “Listen, I’m on a meeting, I’m sending you a video, watch it and then we will talk about it, ok?” you tell him while you search for a video on your laptop, fast enough for nobody in the meeting to realize. You send the link to Zoro’s phone and forget about it until late in the afternoon. You are going downstairs, and Zoro is waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. You smile at him, opening your arms because you love to hug him after a stressful day. He receives you in his arms and hugs you tight. “Oi… I want to make you squirt”, the green haired boy tells you nuzzling on your shoulder. His sleepy voice tells you that… oh God. “I want you to make me squirt, babe”, you tell him with a wicked smile. Zoro loses no time and grabbing you by your waist sits you over the kitchen table and starts to kiss your neck passionately. You gasp and let his mouth do wonders while kissing your flesh. Your hands travel through his back and take off his white shirt. He has been training so he is still a little sweaty, and there’s nothing you love the most than your strong lover's manly scent. Your jogging pants end up over the floor, and Zoro starts fingering you, while his lips are softly pressed against yours. Your mouth opens, as he hits with perfect motion your G spot. Two fingers inside pump faster, and says to you “come on babe, come for me”. He has learned so quickly about how and where to touch that you are about to reach climax in a couple of minutes. He keeps moving his strong arm in and out of you. A beckoning motion inside you, until your core can't take it anymore and the knot that has been forming on your lower stomach, finally snaps. You squirm and arch your back pressing your sex against his hand. The pressure of the wet products of your arousal makes Zoro take his hand back and let them damp his whole right arm and leg. But he is not satisfied yet, he learned there's so much more liquid. He is back for some more motion, making you squirt multiple times until you beg him to stop. The aftermath of that tweet, leaves you trembling, wondering who is gonna clean the kitchen floor after what's coming next, but mainly thanking Sanji for such a good idea ~

@ Sanji’s home.

“Sanji-kun, I want you here in no time!!” you shout mad at your boyfriend from the bedroom. The cook runs through the halls of your house and reaches the room instantly, “My lady, what do you need?”, he asks. You show Sanji your phone, “Sanji, how many times do I have to tell you to stop teasing your poor friend?”. Sanji burst into laughter at the verge of tears. “Why are you laughing like this? How many times have you made me squirt, huh?” you ask him, mad. Sanji’s cheeks turn to red, and he looks at the floor covering his face with his blond bangs. “Ah you see…”, you scold him. A few seconds pass and Sanji grabs a cigarette and lights it on. “Oh shit… I think… omg”, you realize that what you said hurt him -a lot- and he won't rest until he makes you squirt. You were just trying to stop him from teasing his friend, and now your blond boyfriend is over you, grabbing you by the wrists on bed. “S- Sanji-kun? babe?” you ask him a little bit scared by his sudden reaction. “You are right, I have… I have never… I never made you squirt, my princess. But things are gonna change here”, he says as he slides your pants off. He lifts up your blouse and starts kissing your tummy, he does it so soft and caring. His pretty lips travel through your skin, placing smooches all over your lower stomach and pelvis. Sanji hugs you, pressing his cheeks over your panties. He enjoys every little spot of your body; he takes his time. He makes love to you with all his heart. Slowly he slides your panties off, and as he does so he keeps placing sweet kisses over your core. You arch your back and move your hips towards him, your body wants more, but he takes his time, little by little to make you burn in desire for his touch. His tongue plays over your labia, licks your sex, and slowly tastes your clit with divine dedication. His index finger penetrates your entrance. So soft, so sleek. The finger goes up and down, intermittently reaching your g spot. Every time he does, you moan, and his ears are delighted with the singing of his Goddess. Suddenly, and surprisingly Sanji changes his index finger for his middle and ring finger. He kneels on the bed and places his other hand over your lower stomach, making some pressure, so the tip of his fingers can push your pleasure point even better. His steady pace accelerates more and more, in and out, making you throw your head back. Your toes curling, and your hands grabbing the sheets. Satin fabric that got completely soaked with you reaching climax, squirting, and whining Sanji’s name. Your blond cook doesn’t stop until your last drop is out, making your body fall into exhaustion. He carries you to the bathroom and gives you a cute relaxing bath, where of course the two of you keep playing until dinner time ♥ ~

[the-witty-pen-name]

Deadbeat Pt. 7

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), fluff, angst, cursing, abandonment, toxic parent, violence, toxic siblings, infatuation, cheating/divorce, insecurity, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official, fake relationship, jealousy

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N:

IMPORTANT UPDATE

I made a Google form to be added to my taglists, so if you want to be added, the link is in my bio. I’ll only be adding people to the list if they requested to be added by filling out the form! This way all of the requests are just in one place so I don’t miss requests! Thank you!!!

I’m sorry for this chapter being shorter than normal, but it is more of a transitional chapter to set up some new stuff! I’m trying a new writing style in this chapter and this is why the word count is shorter. I’m nervous about posting this chapter honestly, since I tried something different. The following chapters will be back up to 3.5-4k as usual! This story is not over! 

Thank you all so much for reading and sharing my work. Everyone whose reached out and told me how much they love the story really makes my day, oh my gosh!! I love you all so much, I’m so thankful.

Address mentioned is completely made up. 

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! I hope you all enjoy!

Tags and Requests are OPEN

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five // Part Six

Lee never stopped telling you how much he loved you. At first, you had thought it was a spur of the moment exclamation but you were mistaken. When you realized he meant it, you reciprocated telling him you loved him too, making him the happiest man in the world. It all happened so fast, and your relationship was evolving quickly.

Maybe living together played a factor in how quickly the relationship progressed. It’s hard to just be dating someone you already live with and can’t take out on proper dates. It made everything else happen faster. He wished he could spoil you and take you to restaurants and walk into a room with you on his arm, but he couldn’t yet.

But from that moment on, he never stopped telling you. He said the phrase probably every moment he could manage. Every time he called from his office; he wouldn’t hang up without muttering the phrase. He’d tell you that he loved you before he left the house, or he’d just announce it unprompted when you both were home together, like it was some epiphany or declaration. He’d love to whisper it to you, especially at night with you pulled tightly to his chest.

He made sure he’d tell you in nonverbal ways as well, always letting you know he was thinking about you. Somehow, you’d end up with flowers on your desk at work at least once a week as well, never with a card. He’d cook, and on his days off, he’d spend them with you or he would surprise you by fixing things on the house. Never in a million years had you ever expected Lee Bodecker to be such a romantic, and when you’d joke about it, he’d say,

“You give me a reason to be, doll.”

It was thrilling, having someone to love and to have those feelings reciprocated. The ability to just be able to give and receive love was something he was never able to manage, perhaps it was just never the right person, or perhaps he had always been too selfish.

Now for the first time in a very long time, he wasn’t thinking about himself.

You gave him purpose and something worth fighting for.

“When this whole thing is over and we’re out of this town, I’m gonna marry you,” he said rubbing your arm as you lay in bed cuddled up to his side. You lay your arm across his tummy and rest your head on his chest. You hum in agreement, resting your eyes, both of you waking up earlier than you needed and you were enjoying the peaceful moment of the morning together.

“I hate seeing you with that Russel kid,” he’ll mutter, possessively pulling you closer, you could feel the vulnerability in his voice.

The past weeks have been really hard on Lee. It bothered him more and more each day, knowing Arvin was the one who got to drive you home from work and just being out and about with you. He knew you were his, and he never didn’t trust you. But you were so blind to the boy’s obvious feelings for you. It was something that would eat at him at night.

He couldn’t even blame you, if Arvin was able to sweep you away from him. Arvin was a good kid- took care of his family, worked a decent job, went to Church, and he was your age. He was much better looking in the traditional sense than Lee as well. Plus, you had a history. The boy was your first love and no one forgets their first love.

He knew you didn’t look at Arvin the same way Arvin looked at you, but he was always worried that a shift could come. If that damned reporter wouldn’t leave town and the more time you spent with Arvin, the more you’d see how much you’d actually want to be with him instead. You always told Lee he was the one you wanted and he believed you, but he worried that you would change your mind. He was so insecure, and he felt guilt, and he knew that he didn’t deserve to be happy, that he didn’t deserve your affection.

Sometimes he couldn’t let himself relax. Scenarios of all the different reasons you could leave him for polluted his mind and he hated how it took him out of being in the moments he just wanted to enjoy. He’d see you in his mind, happy with Arvin, marrying him instead and creating all those experiences with Arvin instead of him.

“He’s just my friend,” you reiterate, probably now for the millionth time. You were patient, and it never seemed to bother you, that the two of you ending up having this same conversation over and over. He needed the constant reassurance, and he hated the fact that he did.

“I want you, Lee,” you’ll mumble affectionately, trying to shower him with compliments and praise, to lift him up when he got down like this. “I don’t want any other man,” you’d affirm.

“This town is poison,” Lee mutters, looking out the window, the blinds pulled back as the sun is steadily rising. “Everything feels like it’s tainted,” he observes.

“Except us,” you correct him. He nods, but he knows his statement especially applies to him.

“Except you,” he sighs, his fingertips tracing circles on your bare shoulder.

“You don’t think you’ve ruined me, Sheriff?” you tease, making him smile, gradually pulling him out of his state. You’d lean up and kiss him, and the sensation would help his thoughts fade away for a few minutes. The feeling of your lips and soft skin against his own just putting his mind at ease, using his other senses to just keep his mind at bay.

He’s not sure if you realize how much he means it when he talks about escaping away from the town and marrying you. He thought about it all the time and it was what he was working toward. He knew even if he managed to go straight, if when Curtis left town, if the case around your mom was resolved, the town would still eat you up. The image of you both would be sullied. Reputation was crucial for survival in a town like this. You’d already been subjected to it before your relationship started.

He knew the solution was simple. He needed to take you away from Ross County, move to a new town where no one knew you both. It would just be a Sheriff and his new bride looking for a place to settle down. No rumors, or peeping eyes, or reporters, or exes, no corruption- just the two of you. Get a house, maybe start a family if you wanted that too.

He hoped you did. He’d be content either way, but he wanted a big family. His growing up was much less than ideal and it was just him and his sister. He loved the idea of a bigger family. He loved the image of having a house that was loud in a different way than what he grew up in. He often worried if he’d be a good father, but he never once doubted how excellent of a mother you would be if you wanted.

The only thing he wanted in his future was you, and everything else would be a blissful bonus of things he also doesn’t deserve. But to him you deserved the world and he simultaneously wanted to give you everything but then at the same time he felt like he would hold you back. You were young and had so many good years ahead of you. He couldn’t imagine you’d want to waste the rest of your life or even the rest of your twenties with him.  

You could get a job doing anything you wanted and he could run for Sheriff in the new town maybe, or he could do something else. It didn’t matter to him anymore really. The time he’s been with you has really helped him see what is actually important. It was the only thing he wanted. He wanted to be able to give you that because he knew that you deserved it and more than he’d ever be able to give you.

Laying in bed with you on this lazy morning, reminded him of the last time he was there when you were still bartending. It was the first time that pesky day dream of his started. It was something a lot bigger now than it was then. He loved you, and he was relieved he could say it to you now, and he wanted to settle down. This backwards way the two of you got together was a mess but it was yours. He wouldn’t trade it for anything, but he knew he needed to make things right.

He had been so blind, for so long, and he finally started to feel like he could be someone he actually wanted to be.

All he needed was time and he could set it all straight.

***

Arrest of Pimp in Knockemstiff, Ohio Reveals Corruption of Town Sheriff

By: Henry Curtis

Sheriff of Ross County, Lee Bodecker, has been allegedly involved in the coverup of a local brothel, run by Leroy Brown. Brown and several of his associates were arrested on Wednesday night by local police for drug possession and possession of illegal firearms. As the group resisted arrest, there was a shoot out at a small bar in Meade, which was revealed to serve as a front for their operation. Seven men, including Brown, were arrested Wednesday night for questioning by the local police.

While giving his statement, Brown confessed to the charges and in hopes of a lesser sentence, cooperated with police and provided names of all involved in the underground prostitution ring. He provided the police with twelve names, including that of the local Sheriff Lee Bodecker and his sister Sandy Henderson, who has since also been apprehended by the local authorities.

Sandy Henderson was apprehended on Thursday morning, and made bail for $500 that Saturday. Henderson and her husband, both denied an opportunity to provide a statement. The pair only stated they will be promptly returning home and want to put this behind them.

Although there has been no release of his official statement as of yet regarding this alleged involvement, Bodecker was taken into custody the next morning, apprehended by his deputies from his home. Deputy Bill Thomas has since announced that the Sheriff will be subject to a trial in the near future, and for now faces an indefinite suspension from his post until his innocence has been proven. Deputy Thomas has also said that regardless of the outcome of the trial, Bodecker will be unable to run for reelection next term.

With this new development, it is also worth noting that the Sheriff is a tenant of (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the daughter of Estelle (Y/L/N)-Tucker who is currently wanted by law enforcement for embezzling thousands from her husband Harvey Tucker’s company, Tucker Brokerage, and then fleeing with her sixteen-year-old son. When police arrived at her home Thursday morning to apprehend the Sheriff, deputies on scene took an official statement from (Y/L/N), where she denied knowledge of the Sheriff’s involvement in any of the alleged criminal activities nor any knowledge regarding her mother or brother’s whereabouts.

Woman Wanted for Embezzling Funds from Tucker Brokerage Arrested in Indiana

By: Henry Curtis

Former resident of Knockemstiff, Ohio, Estelle (Y/L/N)-Tucker was arrested in South Bend, Indiana yesterday morning before dawn. Being able to identify her as a wanted person, Este and Harold Turner, owners of the Sunnyside Motel where (Y/L/N)-Tucker had been staying for about three days prior to the arrest, notified the local authorities she was staying in one of their rooms. She also was accompanied by her sixteen-year-old son.

The boy’s older sister has now become the boy’s sole guardian and he has since returned to his hometown. According to the police, the boy was completely cooperative and they believe he had no knowledge of his mother’s crimes. In a statement given the night of the arrest, the boy told police he believed they were running from his step-father, as his mother insinuated, she had been a victim of domestic abuse. There is no evidence yet as to whether her statement is true, but there will be an investigation of husband, Harvey Tucker, to discover if this claim is true.

Both children of Estelle (Y/L/N)-Tucker have not agreed to speak about their mother or the situation to anyone except police. Daughter, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), said when she arrived in Indiana to pick up her brother, seemed to only care about getting her brother home safely. Locals report she never asked to see her mother, and only focused on her brother.

As of now, (Y/L/N)-Tucker will remain in the custody of the South Bend Police until they are ready to transport her to Columbus, Ohio where she will face jail time and then eventually a trial.

Corruption in Knockemstiff High School Staff, Principal Arrested for Illegal Distilling- Sheriff Involved in Cover Up

By: Henry Curtis

Principal of local high school, Mark Cunningham, was arrested today after local police discover an illegal distillery on his residence. Police had retrieved a warrant to search Cunningham’s land after receiving an anonymous tip from a source close to the Principal.

Following his arrest, Cunningham admitted to the felony, but also claimed Ross County’s previous Sherriff, Lee Bodecker, had prior knowledge of the still, and in exchange for his silence, he demanded Cunningham offer a secretarial job at the high school to his landlord, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), who is the daughter of Estelle (Y/L/N)-Tucker, who recently was tried for embezzlement.

The vice-principal of the high school, Meredith Lively, has stepped forth as interim principal until the position can be filled, and ensured the press (Y/L/N) had been fired effective immediately, despite her claims of being unaware any such deal had conspired. Police have found no evidence to contradict (Y/L/N)’s statement, and in an official statement taken from Bodecker, he confirmed that it was part of the deal she not be made aware of the circumstances.

New Sheriff Elected to Ross County

By: Henry Curtis

Former Deputy Bill Thomas has been elected Sheriff of Ross County. Following the trial of former Sheriff Lee Bodecker, who had been found guilty of all charges, Bodecker was barred from office, and given a five-year sentence.

Deputy Thomas in an acceptance speech during a recent town hall meeting, ensured residents of Knockemstiff that “one bad apple doesn’t spoil the whole bunch” and the Sheriff’s department under new control will keep the town safe, and clean of crime and corruption. When asked by reporters how he felt about Bodecker, Thomas only described his situation as “unfortunate.”

There has been no other evidence of corruption within Ross County Sheriff’s Department although the investigation is still ongoing. When asked during his trial if he received any corroboration from any other law officials, Bodecker stated he never involved other members of the force with his wrongdoings.

REAL ESTATE  

Room Available for Rent in Knockemstiff, Ohio

$50 monthly rent (utilities included)

1 Bedroom (250 sq. ft.), furnished

Private bathroom with shower

4 Birch Street

Knockemstiff, Ohio

Please call the following number with serious offers. Price negotiable.

PART EIGHT

Taglist

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01 @rosalynshields @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3 @hersilencedscreams @malar-region @purplerain85 @vesper852 @smilewolfdolan @softshell-taco @champagnebucky @lilacmeadows @mollygetssherlockcoffee

[dadolorian]

Diamonds and Daddies Ch 2 Whiskey X F!Reader

A/N: Thank you again to @oloreaa​ for being my Beta reader despite not liking this Yeehonk bitch XD  And thanks to @talesfromtheguild​ for the name idea and letting me bounce ideas for this story in general off of you

Fandom: Kingsman the golden circle Ship: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x Cis F!reader Warning/tags: Kink and consent discussion, Possessive (consensual) language, spanking, slight choking, Daddy kink/ DD/LG/BDSM style relationship, aftercare, fingering, P/V (protected) sex, dirty talk,  reaffirming consent/ checking in with safe word, Jack being possessive/controlling but has readers enthusiastic consent on it. 

Word count: 6K + 

AO3 LINK - coming soon

Summary: Whiskey tries Tinder, and when that doesn’t work discovers a Sugar Baby app that has him most intrigued. Jack gives his Babygirl her first punishment. 

Soft light filtered through sheer curtains, you stretched out lazily, feeling your joints pop and click. Idly, your foggy brain wondered just when your bed became this big and soft. 

You fought to drift back off to sleep as memories of last night slowly came back to you, 

          Cracking an eye open to confirm that yes, you had gone home with the sexy Daddy who wined and dined you last night. You couldn’t contain the smile on your face as you remembered everything that had happened, the slight ache between your legs reminding you of the best part. 

You turned over to snuggle up to your cowboy Daddy, only to find he wasn’t there. You sat up, disappointed and confused, looking around the expansive room for him,  reaching to his side you deduced he had been gone only a short while by the lukewarm heat left on the sheets, you listened carefully, trying to figure out just where he was. 

There was muffled shuffling outside of the room, coming from downstairs, and the delicious smell that was wafting into the room made your stomach growl.

You slid out of the covers to go explore, picking up Jack’s discarded dress shirt off the floor and throwing it on before heading off in search of him.  As you left the bedroom you heard him softly humming, a familiar country tune you couldn’t quite place. Softly padding your way down the stairs there you found him, in his open kitchen, wearing a stetson, jeans and nothing else. His back was facing you, you watched the muscles there ripple as he poured batter into the waffle iron beside him, cursing when hot batter splashed back onto his bare stomach. “Careful Daddy,” you teased, as you leaned against an island counter, making him jump slightly. 

He turned to face you with a soft smile, wiping the batter off of his front with a rag. 

“Morning Honey Bee. Did I wake you?” he asked, rounding the island to give you a gentle kiss.

You hummed at the name, it was the same one you had used on the Sugar baby App, which you still needed to delete for him. 

“Not at all, Cowboy,” you teased, flicking his stetson playfully. 

“I was hoping to give you breakfast in bed,” he drawled, playing with the hem of the shirt you were wearing absentmindedly. His other hand went to the small of your back, gently holding you to his front as he rocked the two of you slowly, dancing in place to music that wasn’t there. 

“Seems that plans out the window now, you hungry?” 

You nodded your head. “Starving. I worked up quite an appetite last night,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around him and resting your chin on his soft front, looking up at him with a giddy smile. 

He chuckled,and bent forward to place a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“That you did, I guess riding takes a lot out of you huh?” he teased with a wink. 

You rolled your eyes at the joke, but your smile confirmed to him you liked it either way.

              He was content holding you just like that, swaying gently together as if you were the only two people in existence, the only thing pulling him away from your embrace was the smell of burning batter.

“Shit, shit!” he cursed, untangling himself from your arms, trying to save what he could of the breakfast. “Damn!”

He unplugged the iron and wafted away the faint smoke with his stetson, trying to thin it out enough to avoid the smoke alarm going off. 

“Sorry, Darlin, I was trying to be all romantic and make you breakfast,” he coughed, scraping burnt batter out of the machine. “But it seems my cooking skills ain't up to par.”

“I’m just flattered that you went through the effort for me,” you smiled, coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around him again, kissing his bare shoulder blades. 

“Of course, gotta take care of my girl,” he moved the waffle iron to the side and cleaned up the mess on the bench.

“How bout we just order something Darl? Since i’ve made such a mess of this?” He suggested, turning in your embrace and resting his large hands on your hips. 

“Sounds delightful” you hummed, standing on your tiptoes to give him a chaste kiss. 

“Here,” he said as he pulled his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it and passing it to you.

“You open that ‘uber’ app and pick whatever you’re fancying Princess.” 

You took the phone and browsed through the app as he cleaned up what he could, deciding on the safe bet of waffle house, since Jack had seemed so insistent on making them for you to begin with. 

With the food ordered and on its way, you relaxed on the couch, waiting for him to finish cleaning up. You lay on your stomach, making sure his shirt was only just covering your ass as you flipped through a TV magazine he had laying around.

The rummaging in the kitchen eventually grew silent, shortly followed by warm fingers gently caressing up the back of your thigh to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. 

You hummed, pleased as you felt his weight join you, blanketing himself over you carefully, making sure he didn’t crush you. 

You giggled as you felt his mustache tickle your neck, where he peppered many hot kisses across your skin. 

“D-Daddy,” you giggled, wiggling in his grasp as he continued to tickle you with his facial hair. “Food will be here soon.” 

He growled, not too pleased at the idea of having to cut his playtime short before it had even had a chance to get started. 

“You’re right, Baby, we’ll have to have some fun later,” he sighed, burying his face into your neck for soft snuggles rather than the heated kisses, a change you had no complaint about either way.  “Don’t need to get all worked up before heading to the lobby. Might give a poor delivery driver a heart attack if I answer the door full mast,” he snickered into your neck. 

You rolled your eyes again at his immature humor but you were once more unable to keep your own smile off of your face. 

“We can play after breakfast though. Right Daddy?” You asked, running your foot over this strong calves teasingly.

“Mmhhhh, of course Baby, “ he said, placing another kiss on your neck. “You only have to ask and Daddy will play with you whenever you want. Unless you’re being a brat for me.” 

You hummed in appreciation at the implication.  Past Daddies had never been very...successful at the whole punishment and reward aspect of your usual relationship dynamic. Your string of bad luck when it came to your relationships didn’t just translate to the relationships with your Daddies failing, but also to how skilled they were with mixing the punishments and pleasures you hungered for. You had never been left completely satisfied in a relationship before. 

But, since meeting him, there wasn't a doubt in your mind that Jack’s ability to take care of you, to punish and pleasure you in the way you had been craving for years, would finally scratch that itch. To satisfy your hunger. You weren’t just a sugar Baby for the money after all. 

“I’ll be good for you,” you teased, breathlessly lifting your ass up into his hips, causing him to groan. 

“Teasing's not what a good girl does, Honey Bee,” he warned, using your moniker again. It was like he was reminding you of your place, something that should have been a red flag in any other type of relationship, but with Jack, it only served to turn you on more. 

“What happened to not answering the door at full mast?” You continued to tease. 

“Half mast...different story,” Jack joked, snatching his phone up with one hand to check on the progress of the food. 

“It’s on its way,” he hummed, getting up off of you carefully, gently patting your ass as he straightened up. “Should probably go put a shirt on then.” 

“Awww,” you pouted, flipping over to watch him walk over to the stairs.

“I’ll take my shirt back off when I get back with the food baby, but only if you take yours off first, Honey Bee,” he winked playfully at you before heading upstairs.

He returned from his room, now wearing a plain white T-shirt which showed off his biceps deliciously, and some fancy looking cowboy boots to complete his casual country look.  “I’ll be back with the food in just a minute Darlin,” he said, coming over to you and giving you a slow, deep kiss. “Be good.” 

You batted your eyelashes up at him, playing innocent as he took off, grabbing his keys and leaving you alone in his apartment. 

Bored without his attention and curious about him, you took the opportunity alone to explore. You hopped up off the couch and started to inspect his apartment. Upstairs you found an additional two bedrooms and bathroom , they were of little interest to you outside of their stunning views of the city, the interesting parts of his apartment were all downstairs, you discovered.  A private gym, a balcony with views of central park and his own pool! You were half tempted to jump in and wait for him to return but you didn’t want to get in trouble with him, at least not yet.  You headed back inside and were about to inspect the last room of the house when you spied through the glass door a heavy wooden desk and laptop sitting on top of it, it was his office. Remembering his warning, you loosened your grip on the handle, backing away slowly. 

“What did I tell you bout my office, Babygirl?” his deep baritone startled you, you hadn’t heard him return.    He stood in the open lounge behind you, one hand on his hip, the other holding the takeout boxes, quirking an eyebrow at you questioningly.  His question was a clear warning to you. 

“You said I can't go in there, and I remembered!” You explained as you turned to face him fully. “I didn’t go in, I stopped as soon as I realized it was your office Daddy, I promise.”

 He regarded you for a moment, searching your eyes. He believed you it seemed. “Good,” he purred, putting the boxes on the coffee table. He grabbed two plates and cutlery from the adjacent kitchen and returned to flop onto the couch with as much grace a man his age could muster.

 “Come here Baby,” Jack beckoned you with his finger, before he sat down and toed off his boots, kicking them underneath the coffee table. 

He held out his arm in invitation of a cuddle which you happily accepted, tucking your knees under yourself as you curled up to his side. He gave you a tender kiss to your forehead then served up the food onto the plates. 

“There you go, Baby,” he smiled, handing you a plate. “Wish i could have made it myself, but this will have to do for now. One day I'll make you a romantic breakfast in bed.” 

“I like that idea Daddy,” you hummed, digging into your food quite happily. “But i’m certainly not complaining about this either.”

You both sat, lazily cuddling as you ate your breakfast together, not in any particular rush to get on with the rest of the day. You finished first, putting your plate on the coffee table in front of you while you waited for him. “You might finish it quicker if you let go of me Daddy,” you teased, causing him to cock an eyebrow at you, looking at you as if you had just grown two heads. “Now why would I want to do that, Babygirl?” He asked, the arm around you squeezing the flesh of your exposed thigh. 

“I wasn’t complaining Daddy, I just thought it might have been easier.”

“I know Baby,” he kissed your cheek. “But i much prefer this.” When he had finally finished his food he stacked his plate on top of yours, picked up a blank notepad off the glass top then pulled you up onto his lap. 

“Now, Baby,” he murmured, playing with the top button of the shirt you were wearing, his shirt. 

“What do you say we get that little ‘contract’ sorted? Should be something we get out of the way before we have anymore fun together, don’cha think? I don't want to overstep any boundaries with you.” You nodded in agreement, looping your arms around his neck as he began writing. 

You found it really cute the way his brow would furrow as he wrote, trying his best to balance the notepad between the two of you and not get distracted by your close proximity. When he was done, he re-read the whole page, giving it a nod of approval before flipping it for you to read. 

You made sure to read it properly, to make sure everything was covered. It was a detailed list of all the rules you had both agreed to the previous night, with the important ones underlined for emphasis, safeword, exclusivity, communication. You smiled, giving him your approval. He then flipped to another page, writing down a list, you tried your best to read it upside down, curious as to what else he could be writing. Figuring out a few of the words you realized he was writing a list of kinks. 

He gave it another once over before showing you. 

“Like I said Princess, I don’t want to cross any boundaries with you, I need to know beforehand if you’ll be just as enthusiastic for these as I am,” he said, rubbing your thigh as you took the list and read it. “It's all fun and games talking punishment and rewards until I get to it and find out you don’t like what I'm doing to ya.” 

You took the pen from his hand, crossing out the hard no’s, leaving only your favorites on his expansive list.

Over stimulation Choking Bondage/restraints Throat fucking Spanking Slapping Riding crop Public sex Collars Toys- Plugs, vibrators, Dildos- others Orgasm denial Cock warming Roleplay - costumes Rough sex Ice Candle wax Degradation/name calling  Fisting Anal Spitting

“Perfect” you purred, handing it back to him so he could confirm what you had approved off. He grinned widely as he read it, his eyes growing dark from lust. You were just the same, already feeling the familiar sensation of your arousal pooling.

“Hooo, Honey Bee,” he growled contentedly, reading your amendments. “You left all my favorites on here.” He tossed the notepad onto a side table, discarding it and leaving his full attention on you. “Now keep in mind, those kinks are just for punishments and rewards...We can add more if we want to later, and we can explore other kinks any other time...I just need to know what you want when Daddy punishes you.” You nodded, agreeing with his words. You were exceptionally grateful at just how serious he was taking his role and control over you, making sure you would be comfortable and feel safe with everything he wanted to do with you, confirming to both of you he had your enthusiastic consent for some of the more...extreme elements of your growing relationship. 

“Mind answering a question for me, Darlin?” He asked, gently undoing the top button of your shirt.

“Of course not Daddy, ask away.”

“Got any toys at home?” His hands continued popping buttons of the shirt you were wearing, his voice was curious, with that hungry growl still hidden beneath it.

“Y-yes, i have toys,” you admitted truthfully.

“Get rid of them,” he ordered firmly, staring at your chest as his calloused hand slipped underneath your now unbuttoned shirt, pushing the shirt off of your shoulders, exposing you to him.

“B-but Daddy, they were expensive,” you whined, gripping his shoulders as his large, rough hands moved to cup your breasts.

He dragged his gaze away from your tits to look you in the eyes.

“What was that? You answering back to me already, baby?” He growled, giving your breasts a harsh squeeze in warning, making you gasp. “Your pleasure belongs to me now, remember? I decide when you get to feel good…And no toy is going to do my job for you.” He began rolling your nipples in his fingers, causing your head to fall back in pleasure. He gave you a growl in warning, a wordless command of eyes on me, and you dragged your gaze back to him, whimpering at his touches. You had started to get wet as you read his Kink list, just the idea of exploring them had started to work you up, but now, with his deft fingers and possessive words, you feel yourself getting wetter. 

“When you get home, you’re going to throw all those toys you have in the trash,” he squeezed your breasts together, still toying with your nipples. “Then you’re going to send Daddy a photo to prove it….And then, when i think you’ve earned it, we’re going shopping for some new, special toys we get to use together. For when you’ve been a good girl for Daddy…or a Bad girl.”

You bit your lip to hide the whimper at the implications, unsuccessfully. Once again he was proving just how capable he was at his Daddy role for you. He chuckled at how helpless you sounded, dragging one of his hands down your front to slip between your legs, fingers quickly becoming covered in your slick. “You’re very naughty baby, forgetting to put your panties on this morning...Only bad girls go about with no underwear,” he teased, pushing one, long finger inside you slowly. “B-But...You weren't wearing underwear last night!” You gasped, opening your legs wider to give him better access. The hand still on your tit squeezed harder. 

“Answering back again?” he growled, shoving another finger inside of you. His other hand let go of your breast and looped around you, pulling you tight up against his front, holding you in place so he could attack your neck with his mouth.  He kissed and licked, running his teeth over the sensitive skin there before growling right into your ear.  “Don’t you dare go around thinking that you can answer back to me, Honey Bee, or that what Daddy says don’t matter.” 

Your moniker, again, reminding you just what you were to him, what he was to you.

One simple name you had heard many times before, but coming from his mouth, his husky voice, it held so much power and control over you. 

The two fingers inside you pushed in as deep as they could go, curling back and forth to tease at your sweet spot. You tried to wiggle in his grasp, either to get away from the stimulation or get closer, you weren’t sure, but his grip on you held fast.

“If I say something makes you a bad girl, then you best listen...Don’t matter if Daddy does it too, you do as I say, not as I do...You’re not a big enough girl to behave like that…” he teased you, gently curling his fingers one minute then thrusting his hand into you harshly the next, fingering you as fast as he could in the position. “Thought you wanted to be my good girl?” he rasped, chuckling darkly when you began writhing in his hold, whining and arching your back, holding onto him for dear life, your manicured nails digging into his biceps as the obscene wet slaps of his hand thrusting into you joined your whines. 

His words and deft fingers had brought you quicker to the edge than you had ever been in your life. Something about the way he became so possessive and controlling over you turned you on so easily, you felt your core tighten up and more arousal seep down your thighs. 

Gripping his shoulders you whimpered out a warning that you were going to cum. He sped his hand up, thumb rubbing quick circles into your clit for one teasing moment, and right before you flew over the edge, he pulled his fingers free from you. “W-wha?” you asked befuddled, straightening back up to look at him. “Daddy why?” 

He stood up, tossing you onto the couch on your back before bringing his fingers to his mouth, moaning as he tasted your essence still coating them. “I’ll tell you why, Baby,” he said, pulling his fingers free and licking his lips as if he had just eaten the finest dessert. “You talked back to Daddy,” he leant over top of you so his nose brushed yours. “And then I find out you’re being a filthy little girl by not wearing panties…” He slapped your thigh hard enough to sting. “And then you had the gall to talk back to me, again.” 

He shoved his mouth against yours for a deep, domineering kiss. It was bruising. You could taste the faint flavor of the syrup from the waffles you shared, combined with your own juices, on his tongue. He cupped your jaw to deepen the kiss, then pulling away only when you had become lost to the sensation, driving you insane once again by denying you just as it got really heated. “Now, we’re both new to this...It’s going to take a while for us both to learn all the rules,” he said, straightening up and pulling his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side, forgotten. He was back on you, kneeling between your legs before you could even admire his soft tummy again.  “But if I let this one slide, Baby, I fear you won’t learn the rules...If I let you get away with answering back to me, and being filthy now...Well you won’t learn your lesson, will ya?”

One hand slid back between your legs, ghosting over your soaked folds teasingly. You whimpered again, listing your hips for more contact, batting your eyes up at him in hopes to soften him up 

“But since this is a first offence,” Jack chuckled, gently pinching your clit between two fingers, “I’ll go easy on you. But don’t think those pretty eyes will work on me all the time, baby.” 

“Daddy” you whined, feeling completely helpless underneath him and loving it. “Hmmm? Now what do we think is an appropriate punishment for a first time offence?” He asked, pushing one finger back inside you, thrusting it in and out agonizingly slowly while his thumb circled your clit with feather light passes. Touching you and filling you up, but not enough to satisfy the burning need in you. He watched intently as you tried to seek out more stimulation, raising your hips up into his hand, but he put a stop to that quickly, holding your hips down with his free hand.  “Stay still,” he growled. “You take what I give you, Honey bee, don’t be greedy.”  He watched you with his head cocked, as he decided on your punishment.  “I think we’ll keep it simple,” he continued. “A spanking seems appropriate...Don’t you agree?”

Jack paused, and you realized he was waiting for a response, an approval and consent over his chosen punishment.  “Y-yes...a spanking seems fair Daddy,” you pouted, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Good” he rumbled, scooping you up and gently laying you across his lap. You could feel his erection pressed up against your belly.

You wanted it inside you, but you knew you had to earn it. One of his arms looped around your middle, keeping you still while the other was gently massaging your ass and rubbing your pussy. “Listen up, Girl,” he said, voice firm. “You are to say “red” if this gets too much, you understand?” he asked, waiting for your verbal affirmation before continuing. “Good, after each spank, I want you to say ‘I will not talk back to Daddy’. Can you repeat that for me?” “I- I will not talk back to Daddy,” you moaned, wiggling your hips to get more friction up against your pussy. “Good,” he praised again, rewarding you with more friction just where you wanted it, his palm rubbing up and down over your folds. 

“You’re going to get ten spanks...And then Daddy's going to give you a reward afterwards, if you’re good for me.”

You nodded, letting him know you understood. “I want you to count them out too,” was his final instruction as he raised his hand, bringing it back down against your ass with a hard SLAP! “O-one!” You yelped. “I will not talk back to Daddy!” He hummed in approval, you felt his erection brush up against your stomach again, twitching in the confines of his pants. SLAP! “Two!” I will now talk back to Daddy!” 

It continued, you tried your hardest to keep still with each slap, to stop rubbing your thighs together, but each slap only seemed to make you wetter, to make you want him more. Slap after slap after slap, you remained his good little girl. “T-Ten! I- I will not talk back to Daddy!”  you cried, tears from the pain running down your face. You were left sore and sensitive, but despite the pain you felt burning pleasure fill your whole body. Jack really was living up to your dream expectations as your Daddy, you were reminded one again just how perfect he was for you.

He proved himself more with how he treated you after a punishment.  

His hand began massaging your ass again, soothing the sting. Jack nuzzled the side of your face affectionately as he stroked the hand shaped welts forming on your ass gently. 

“Whats your color, Babygirl?” he asked softly, kissing your cheek. 

“G-green,” you panted, calming your breath and racing heart down. “Good, good,” he praised, carefully helping you stand on your feet, back facing him. Your legs felt like jelly, you were ready to collapse but his hands on your waist kept you standing. “You took your punishment so well, baby, Daddy is so proud of you!” He kissed the growing welts, praising you. “What a good girl you are, taking Daddys punishment. And look at this,” one of his hands pushed between your legs, coating his fingers once again in your arousal. “You’re even wetter than before...I’m not sure it's much of a punishment if you liked it that much, but a promise is a promise, you took your punishment and behaved...My little girl deserves her reward now, don’t you think?” You moaned and nodded, pushing back against his hand despite how sore you were. “Hmmmm, and I know you’re sore baby, but damn if you didn’t make Daddy as hard as a fucking rock through out all of that. Think you’ll be able to take my cock?” 

He chuckled when you nodded eagerly. 

“Course you can, you’re fucking soaked.” He stood up and gently laid you down on your stomach on the couch. You watched over your shoulder as he pulled a condom out of his pocket and began unbuckling his belt, shoving his pants down his hips. 

Once again, he wasn’t wearing underwear, the hypocrite, but you held your tongue. 

Daddy had just taught you a lesson about answering back, you weren't willing to give up your reward after all that delicious torture. “You’re ass looks fucking gorgeous covered in my hand prints,” he rasped, kicking his pants away and ripping the packet open with his teeth.  “I just want to stare at those pretty welts as I fuck you with my cock, might get a little sore again, baby...Tell me to stop and I will.” 

You nodded, letting him know you understood as he positioned himself behind you, he rolled the condom on, briefly wiping up the precum that had gathered at his tip onto his hand, he held his fingers to your mouth for you to taste. 

He groaned as you swirled your tongue around them, coating his fingers in your saliva and tasting the proof of his arousal. With the condom in place, Jack held himself at his base, rubbing his tip up against your soaked folds, back and forth. “Tell me you’ll be a good girl for me from now on,” he teased, you could hear that arrogant smile in his voice. You whined, frustrated he was holding your reward over your head so to speak. “I’ll be a good girl for you, Daddy...I won't answer back like that again!” you moaned into one of the throw pillows on the couch, holding it against your chest and face, anchoring yourself to something as you tried not to scream from frustration at his teasing. “Yeah? You’ll be a good girl and listen to Daddy too? Keeping still when I tell you to? Not arguing if I deem your behavior naughty?” 

At this point you were sure he was just trying to torture you further. “Yes! Yes Daddy! Please! I swear I'll be good, just please!” you begged. “I’ve been a good girl! Please, I just want your cock!” You didn’t care how pathetic or desperate you sounded as you begged him to fill you, he had manhandled you and spanked you deliciously, in a way no Daddy ever had before and if this was just a ‘mild’ punishment, it excited you further to think how he would handle something more extreme in the future. 

You had never been more aroused in your entire life. 

“Good girls don’t speak like that” he warned, you feared another punishment when you were this close to your pleasure that you actually sobbed into the pillow. “But I'll forgive you, you have been a good girl for me, taking your punishment so well....” he trailed off, distracted by the sight of his aching tip poking at your folds that were framed by his growing marks. He was so close to just...pushing in. It was agonizing having him so close to filling you up and you let him know. Pleading and sobbing harder into the pillow. Taking mercy on you, he pushed forward excruciatingly slow, making you sob in relief, satisfying your burning need, if only for a moment.   “You’re just so desperate for Daddy’s cock,” he rasped, enraptured by his effect on you. 

You moaned and continued sobbing into the pillow, overwhelmed to be finally filled with him. 

His guttural moan joined yours as he bottomed out, sinfully loud.The stretch of his was slightly painful, given he did not take the time to prepare you as carefully as he did the night before. But the way he split you open, was divine. He wasn’t wrong in saying you were desperate for his cock,  and who could blame you when he filled you up so good?

“Jesus, fuck, I don’t think I ever been inside a hole this wet before, Baby,” he grated, rocking his hips into you slowly.  “I can feel it, coating down our legs...Didn’t realize you were such a whore for punishment and Daddy's cock.”  It sounded like an insult, but the wicked grin you heard in his voice told you otherwise. He was delighted at the discovery of just how needy he could make you. 

You were about to comment back when he slowly pulled out of you and then thrust back in, hard, making you scream at the devastating pleasure of him stretching and filling you and the deliciously painful sensation of his hips slapping up against your sore ass. 

Jack chuckled again, beginning a steady, fast and deep pace thrusting into you. He grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you up enough so your face wasn’t buried in the throw pillow. “I want to hear your screams, baby,” he snarled, punctuating his sentence with a devastatingly harsh thrust.  He laughed at you, mockingly, as you screamed again. 

“Fuck, I love hearing your noises, baby, you sound so hot, makes Daddy even harder.”  You felt him twitch inside you as he said it, making you whimper. 

You had no words left, only able to focus on the way he filled you up and rammed against your deepest spot. The burning sting of your ass each time his hips met yours drove you wild. He moaned and growled in approval at the noises you were making, but you were so lost that you weren't even aware you were making them or what you were saying. He rambled on behind you, his raspy voice praising how tight you were, how good you felt around him. You could barely focus on his words.

“Rub your clit baby,” he ordered, the hand not gripping your neck rubbing your ass as he admired your marks. “Daddy wants you to cum on his cock...You’ve earned it” 

You did as you were told, reaching beneath you to rub yourself with a trembling arm. You could feel his balls slap against your fingers with earth thrust. And he was right, you were soaked, your fingers were able to glide smoothly over your bud, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body like electricity.  You felt your core clamping down on him instantly, making him moan. 

“Fuck, just when I think you can’t get any tighter,” he rumbled. “You’re close, aren't cha Honey Bee? I can feel it,you’re such a perfect little cock whore for me, come on..cum for Daddy, fucking soak me even more.” You whimpered, rubbing your clit faster at his words.

“Cum for Daddy, right fucking now!” You obeyed, you felt like you were being hit by a freight train. 

His teasing and leaving you right as you reached your peak earlier, mixed with the unbearable arousal he had caused with his spanking and dirty words resulted in the most powerful orgasm you had ever felt in your entire life. You felt the wind being knocked out of you as your core clamped down around him almost painfully and milk him for all he was worth.  Your entire body contorted with pleasure, your legs shook violently as you tried to cling to anything to ride out the powerful waves.            You heard him curse behind you, slamming into you harder, painfully so given how tender your ass was but it only added to the pleasure.  He growled out his release, gripping your neck harder.  “Jesus fuck baby that’s it! Yes! Yes! Fuuuucccck!”  His desperate bucking as he chased his own pleasure as you milked him dry simply intensified your orgasm, leaving you a breathless, panting, sweaty mess as your body shook and came down from your high.  “Perfect fucking pussy.”

Even when you were done, as you began winding down from your high, every slight movement of him behind you made your walls flutter more, making you whimper from the over stimulation. 

He groaned deeply behind you as he pulled out, cooing gently at you as you whined. “There we go baby, shhhh now,” came Jack's soothing words. 

You melted into the couch, feeling like a heap of boneless jelly as your eyes started to rift close. He got up off the couch and you heard him walk to the kitchen, disposing of his condom you assumed, you were too tired to even care. You were surprised when he came back and rolled you over gently, picking you up bridal style. You let you a whimper of pain and confusion. “Shhh baby, Daddy’s just taking care of you,” he consoled, kissing the crown of your head. “Rest, let me do all the work.” He carried you upstairs, to his room, gently putting you back on ‘your’ side.

You closed your eyes, ready to drift off as you heard him rummage about in his ensuite. He came back, and you felt him gently begin cleaning you up with another warm washcloth. “Look at my baby...so beautiful,” he murmured tenderly, wiping up and down your thighs, throwing the wash cloth to the side to clean up later once your slick had been cleaned up. “You did so well, took Daddy's punishment and cock so well...What a lucky man I am.” He continued to praise you as he gently rolled you onto your front. You whimpered, your body aching and protesting but you let him manhandle you more. You heard something else rustle, then a zipper. There was a pop of a cap followed by the soothing sensation of his hands rubbing cream into your abused skin.           You whined, the cream too cold for your burning skin but he soothed you with gentle kisses peppered along your shoulder blades. “Let Daddy take care of you, it will be done soon,” he promised. With your welts thoroughly coated you sighed in content, already feeling the stinging sensation start to fade away. “There we go,” he praised, packing up what you now knew to be the first aid kit. He went to put it away and wash his hands before he returned. He moved to lay next to you, fidgeting a bit, wanting to pull you up against him but not willing to agitate your sore ass. He contented himself by laying on his side,  watching you as one hand resting on your back, stroking it affectionately and limbs intertwined  with yours. He kissed everywhere he could reach, just as he had last night, he spoke to you gently, letting you focus on his words rather than on how sore you were. “Rest Baby, when you wake up, we’ll have a lot of work to do,” he hummed. “Gonna get'cha all cleaned up, put a nice meal in your belly, make sure you’re all taken care of.” You snuggled deeper into the plush pillow you were laying on, a smile forming on your lips at his soft promises. “Then Daddy's going to have to get ya home, gonna need to get your allowance sorted, and see you get your appointment for your implant...Daddy wants you without a condom as soon as possible.” he teased, his fingers dancing on your back gently, making the flesh jump.

You whined at the ticklish sensation and he chuckled. “Go to sleep baby, i’ll be here when you wake up this time,” he murmured the promise into your ear as you finally drifted off. 

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Taglist: 

@thats-one-tender-foot​  @luminescentlily​ @nuttybeardetective​ @ishqinbbc​ @ben-is-a-hoe​ @calamity-queen​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @talesfromtheguild​

[keilemdarkmode]

crybaby

🚫contains themes of abuse, noncon/dubcon, yandere. 🚫

all characters aged 18+

(r18+)

pro hero! hitoshi shinsou x reader 

word count: 2.4k

you cry so pretty, all for him. 

a/n: hey y’all! please don’t read if this isn’t your cup of tea!!

this is my first (posted) story with like. dark themes. finally, i am able to filthily indulge my crying kink <3333 enjoy!!

warnings: yandere, spanking, dacryphilia, kidnapping, isolation, degradation, spanking, light pet play (collars and nicknames), light non-con

||||||||||||||||| 

You were so fucking pretty when you cried.

For him, anyway.

Just him.

If anyone other than Hitoshi dared to upset you to the point of tears, they would hardly be around much longer to tell about it.

No, Hitoshi took pride— hot, ego-boosting, revolting— pride in making you hiccup and wail to the point of a migraine once your tears had settled. Fuck toeing the line of pain and pleasure, he’d shove you over its jagged edge without a thought if it got you to tears.

If he was in a particularly cruel mood, he’d keep you sobbing for hours.

It never felt long enough for him, but he prided himself on knowing what limits of yours he could safely break without breaking you. The last thing he wanted was a lifeless doll, that would defeat the entire purpose of keeping you in the first place.

There were surely thousands of other tight cunts in the world that would fall all over the famed, underground hero ‘MindBreak’, but Hitoshi didn’t want any of them. He’d had a fangirl or two strung up in his bed during his early years of professional hero work, but it was always lackluster. Too many clawing, exaggerated moans and needy cuddling for his liking. He’d rather beat one out alone than pretend he enjoyed indulging a girl’s selfish fantasy.

Hitoshi had given up on ever finding a partner who would suit him just right.

Until he met you, of course.

...

A hostage situation, easily diffused with a handful of words in the twilight of a closing luxury shop, expensive purses and watches lining the walls.

It was far too simple for Hitoshi to bait the villains that dared to put you in harm's way.

When he first saw your tear-flushed cheeks, the barrel of a villain's handgun to your temple, Hitoshi knew he was beyond fucked.

His cock shouldn’t have twitched at the sight, yet it did. He was sporting a half-chub the entire mission, endlessly glad that his costume was baggy enough to hide it and that his voice modulator covered his hot, shamed cheeks.

When Hitoshi finally got to you, carefully checking you over for bumps and bruises, he let his hands linger. Any potential self-imposed disgust that bubbled in his throat died the second he felt your skin against his own.

He was hooked.

You thanked him, tearfully, over and over as he walked you to a waiting ambulance, rubbing at your eyes with the backs of your wrists. Hitoshi kept a firm hand on your lower back, quietly reassuring you that you were ‘safe, alright, protected—’

The last word might’ve been a bit much for a pro-hero to a civilian, but you were too busy sobbing to notice.

...

Hitoshi had to be subtle at first.

Showing up at your work, always bearing a coffee and a smile, talking to you like an old friend and not a near-stranger who kept too many tabs on you. You didn’t know about his behavior and Hitoshi was convinced you wouldn’t care either. You always grinned so sweetly from behind the counter, sipping the beverages he always treated you to.

Blissfully ignorant.

You were sweet, far-too innocent to notice how Hitoshi pushed and pulled you into the undertow of his fucked-up desires.

Maybe he was first disgusted with himself, for a small while, but he was quick to rationalize, easily mushing and tugging his own mind into a lull of lust and instinctual compliance.

You needed him, it was obvious. You needed a sweet man to kiss and blot your pretty tears away, keep you safe from the horrors of the world while he did so.

Hitoshi was happy to provide.

...

You fought him, of course, when he first brought you home.

He was careful not to push you in the beginning, letting you sputter and beg your lips dry and eyes red before even thinking about reacting. The kitten-kicks and punches you landed phase him in the slightest.

Hitoshi wasn’t delusional enough to think you wouldn’t need time to adjust to your new existence.

But, truly, giving you constantly neutral expressions hurt him too.

He wanted to scoop you up, kiss your pains away and keep you safe, like he knew he would. But, Hitoshi wasn’t an idiot. If he pushed you, there was no chance you’d ever trust him.

He had to be patient.

Hitoshi also knew that he should only use pain if he needed to. No need to punish your tears that he loved so, so much. It was only when you acted out that he ever would use force.

...

Such as the time you’d tried to pry off the pretty collar Hitoshi had made for you.

Sleek, black leather, a few o-rings, silver hardware and even a damn bell. The whole thing was even studier than it looked, a thin band of metal running between the layers of fabric, making it more than industrial grade. The last thing Hitoshi wanted was to snap the pretty present he'd even you— not to mention it had to stand up to the heavy links of chain that tethered you to the headboard of your silk-covered king-size bed.

See, he was even nice enough to let you have your own room while you settled.

Though you chose to spit on that kindness quickly.

He’d walked in to give you breakfast—  a warm, home-cooked meal, your favorite, when he found you, bloodied at the neck, as you had slipped a fork (you must’ve saved it from dinner the night prior) between the unyielding collar and the fragile, weak skin of your throat. Tears spilled down your chin and cheeks, frustration and rage so clear in your eyes.

Hitoshi had never truly been upset with you until then.

He felt his own face fall.

When you finally noticed him at the unbolted door, you chucked the bloody fork at him.

You missed by a mile.

What Hitoshi didn’t miss was every strike he laid the plump flesh of your ass that day.

With every strike, Hitoshi wondered why he hadn't bent you over his knee sooner. Maybe it was his early boundaries and need for some order in his own mind.

He loved you, he didn’t want to hurt you.

But now, you fucking deserved it—

And he’d take advantage of it.

He yanked the chain attached to your pretty collar, forcing your neck and spine to curl just right as he smacked his hand down against your bare ass yet again.

“Bad kittens don’t deserve to feel good, do they?” Hitoshi asked, knowing you wouldn’t be able to reply with anything other than fat tears. You’d already soaked the sheets below. Hitoshi had particularly reveled in getting to grind your cheeks into your own mess.

Part of him was tempted to take it a step farther.

He only teased you, though. A single finger trailing from your tight hole to your clit, smearing what little slick you provided (He made a mental note to purchase lube.) Through his touch, obliviously teasing, you had shuddered for him, squirming harder, trills of pleas dripping from your bitten lips, ‘please, no, no, I’m sorry— please, Hitoshi, please, don’t— ‘

Hitoshi didn’t, as much as he wanted to watch you sob while he broke your cunt with his fat fingers.

He had to be patient.

Instead, he settled for spanking you until your ass was bruised and battered. He didn’t even try to count his strikes, rather he stopped when he ran out of ways to verbally berate you.

“If you just listened, kitten, I wouldn’t have to do this,” Hitoshi tsked, shaking his head as he slapped at your upper thighs. “If you were a good girl, I wouldn’t have to spank this cute little ass, would I?”

You squirmed, wailing into the sheets. You’d already begged yourself silly for a reprieve, but Hitoshi didn’t care. Hitoshi didn’t want an apology.

He wanted to see you weep.

He wanted to see you millimeters from shattering, preferably with your tight, silky cunt around his cock. It was a goal he aspired to reach.

But first, you needed to be trained as a proper pet.

At the end of that first punishment, Hitoshi yanked you upright by your collar, back painfully arched as you panted, shaking and writhing in his grip.

Hitoshi forced your thighs around his own, relishing the fear that continued to spill from the wrinkles and lines around your eyes.

It got even cuter when he spit on your lips, harshly slapping your cheek, though tender enough to catch your jaw as you reel.

“So, what did my sweet kitty learn?” Hitoshi asked, watching the way your glassy eyes refocused on him. The tears on your cheeks had yet to slow or stop. Hitoshi wondered if he could get you to run yourself dry.

“T-that— t-that— “ You sniffled, wrists flexing in Hitoshi’s vice grip. “Um—”

Your eyes went blank, vacant.

It hurt some part of him, though it was buried quickly.

It was necessary.

Hitoshi squeezed your cheeks in one hand, cock twitching at the feeling of your precious tears wetting his hand, “Feel that, kitten? In your head— you know what this is? Answer honestly.”

You shook your head, slow and methodically.

“It’s my quirk. You’ll do anything I say without question.” Hitoshi massaged your slack cheeks, tightening his grip on your wrists. “Anything. Do you understand?”

You nodded.

Hitoshi didn’t want to use his quirk on you— no, he wanted to make you his handiwork, not the byproduct of his feared-quirk.

Still, it was a nice safety net.

“I’m going to release you, and then you’re going to tell me what you learned.” Hitoshi already started to let you go. “And, kitten, be quick about it. I wouldn’t want to keep you bent over for much longer, especially since you’ve already made such a mess.”

The moment his hold was fully released with his last words, your eyes went wide, body going rigid.

“Bad kittens don’t get to feel good!”

You panted it out, pain and panic having stripped your already raw mind bare.

Hitoshi was nice enough to sit with you as shakily ate your cold breakfast, praising you in the same breath as calling you a ‘disobedient cunt’ and an ‘ungrateful whore’.

It was cute to see the whiplash in your eyes.

...

You got better, under Hitoshi’s training.

It just took a bit of time and coaxing.

You cried a lot after that first punishment, flinching whenever Hitoshi got within a few feet.

Hitoshi’s response to this was simple—

Get you nice and needy.

He was the only person you saw anyways, so it wasn't a hard feat.  

A few crushed up sleeping pills into your dinner left you knocked out and pliant, though Hitoshi only tucked you into bed, allowing himself to even kiss your forehead as he got to work.

He removed all of the books and drawing paper he’d given you. All of your clothes sans three distinct, uncomfortably fitting outfits were removed from your closet.

Each bit and piece of stimulation Hitoshi could find, he stole away. Even the alarm clock at your bedside.

He even took away your towels, though graciously, he left behind your toothbrush and toothpaste. Hitoshi really patted himself on the back for his grace.

He left you to awaken only with a sheet on your bed and a sweet note from him on your bed.

Kitten,

Be a good girl.

Hitoshi (Master)

...

His plan worked wonderfully.

At first, you were still reluctant to get near him. Though it hardly mattered.

Hitoshi made a point to hardly speak or spend time with you when he would drop off your meals. He didn’t linger.

Though, he did make a point to praise you a single time, each day. Just a small, insignificant ‘good girl’ with dinner just before exiting to rebolt the door to your room.

He’d always wait in the nearby hallway, pulling out his phone to check the hidden cameras that dotted your room.

Typically, you would eat quietly, then tucking into yourself in your favorite corner of the room under your single sheet for the rest of the day. Maybe Hitoshi would have felt some remorse over your shivering, scared form if he doubted himself and his methods.

It wasn’t long before you started to crack.

You’d sniffle behind the door, rubbing at your eyes from the view of the cameras.

Quickly, you went from cries to sobs, then all-out wails.

The first time you screamed, something wretched and high, Hitoshi left you to beg and plead behind the door, as much as it pained him.

As cute as your begging was, he couldn’t deviate from his methods when he was so fucking close to his goal.

With a sly, curling grin, Hitoshi felt confident that the next time he graced you with his presence, you’d be wrapped around his finger.

...

You had become so well-trained.

Perfect, like Hitoshi always knew.

You’d taken to sitting on the floor as Hitoshi busied himself with the day’s paperwork. Some program droned on in the background, just white noise for the evening.

You’d been good that day, particularly good as Hitoshi ate your cunt like it was his last meal over the arm of the couch he was now sitting on.

He couldn’t count the amount of time you wept ‘thank you’ as Hitoshi drove you into a mess of snot and sobs.

After the fanfare, your body spent and tired, he’d given you some reprieve. Your cheek rested on his knee, eyes half-lidded, shoulders relaxed.

Softened, good and proper.

All for him.

You had your slipups, notably. Mistakes were human, weren’t they? You still jumped sometimes if Hitoshi got too loud. You’d shriek if he surprised you, in jest or otherwise. Still needed a lesson drilled into you once in awhile, but overall you were a very well-trained pet for him.

“Kitten?” Hitoshi hummed, not looking up from his papers. “Up on the couch. Head on my lap.”

You sweetly climbed up, the skirt you wore riding up against your thighs. Hitoshi watched your hand twitch to cover yourself, but quickly, you stilled.

That particular lesson had been hard for him to get through your dumb little skull, but eventually, finally, you understood that Hitoshi was the one who decided how much you bared and when.

Luckily, he was more fatigued than normal. He reached out to smooth your skirt flat, squeezing your thigh as he did.

You laid on him, so pliant and soft. Hitoshi absent-mindedly played with your hair, skirting his nails against the shell of your ear, cherishing the way you shivered against him.

It was moments like this that were his favorite.

You started sniffling.

Though your head was directed towards the TV, Hitoshi knew better than to think it was the show that triggered your tears.

No, it was just circumstantial.

Hitoshi enjoyed the soft moments. No fighting, no need to bruise and hollow out your mind, just you so sweetly curled up for him like the perfect kitten you were.

The tender moments are what made you cry so hard.

You slowly dissolved into ragged breaths, fisting the fabric of his joggers and burying your face in his thigh as you wept.

Hitoshi felt his dick twitch.  

He let you do this, despite knowing why you did. He felt no guilt as you shattered with sobs against him. You needed the catharsis of it, Hitoshi knew this and wouldn’t take that away from you.

He was just so gracious.

As was so routine, he dragged you up, wide hands positioning your thighs around his own. You sagged in his hold, half-limp and half-relieved by his contact. You settled on his lap just like he taught you, tucking into his neck with your hands bunching up the front of his shirt as you wept.

Deliciously hot tears seared Hitoshi so well that his eyes rolled back into his head. Though, he kept himself appearing unaffected, sorting through his paperwork all the same, though lightly rocking and cooing to you as he did.

His fucking crybaby was right where they belonged.

[softboywriting]

Don’t Go | Nathan Bateman | Ex Machina

Summary: One difficult boss, one contraband cat, and a whole lot of emotional turmoil. That’s your life these days. When you leave for a few months to get things settled back home before moving into the facility officially, Nathan doesn’t cope with your absence well. Upon your return you have to deal with Nathan being moodier than ever, hiding your cat Baxter in your room, and sorting out just what your relationship with Nathan is. [Light Angst] [Swearing] [Insecurity] [Daddy Kink if you squint] [Fluff] [No use of Y/N] [Sexual/Flirting Situations] [F!ReaderxNathan] [Assistant!Reader] 

Word Count: 5.2k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Four months. You're gone from Nathan's facility for four months while sorting out fully moving to Alaska with him, closing your leased apartment, and finding a home for your cat. Everything was squared away finally. All of your furniture and non personal items were sold and you were ready to move into his place in the middle of nowhere. Of course you couldn't find a home for Baxter, your cat, and you refused to put him up for adoption, so he was coming with you. 

Nathan didn't want a cat he explicitly said don't bring him but here you are in the helicopter with your bags and totes full of what you have left of your old life, and strapped in the back is Baxter in his tan cat carrier. You had to get special medication to help him stay calm but it was worth it. Surely Nathan won't kick him out once you've snuck him in. You'll just keep him in your room. 

You never see Nathan. He didn't help you carry everything in, he never saw Baxter, he didn't even leave a message. It's not until after you've unpacked the essentials and gotten Baxter settled into the bedroom that Nathan calls to you on the intercom system. 

"Meet me on the deck."

You jump, startled by the sudden break in silence. You slip out the door quickly to keep Baxter inside and head for the outdoor deck where the punching bag is hung. You round the corner of the kitchen and stop dead, eyes on the man on the deck, back to you. 

"Nathan?" You call out, walking forward carefully. It can't be. This man has hair. Quite a bit actually. But it looks like Nathan from the back. That is surely his ass. 

Nathan turns around and oh, it's definitely him. He looks so different without the buzzcut, he looks softer, sweeter. "About time you came back."

"Did I miss a day of work?" You roll your eyes. He may look softer but that snippy attitude was ever prominent. "Don't act like you missed me."

"You worked? I barely noticed." He quips, stepping down and unwrapping his hands.

You fold your arms. "So you just remembered to go shopping for groceries, to get your hand wraps, and to get the mineral water from the specialty place on your own? You just remembered that you had to eat every day? You don't need an assistant?"

"I'm an adult. Of course I can do all of that without you."

"So you definitely didn't use those alarms and reminders I set?"

He scoffs.

"Oh no, you did." You click your tongue. "Because they're linked to my tasks app and every time you shut one off I got a notification. And look!" You gesture to him. "You're not starved to death or bloody knuckled from training with no wraps!" 

Nathan rolls his eyes. 

"No come back?" 

"Fuck off." He sneers, grabbing his glasses off the table. 

You walk around the table and run a hand over his hair. "What's this?"

"Hair?" He pushes your hand away. 

"You've never had hair. Ever." You shove your hand back into his hair. It's short, but long enough you can grip the top. Curly, thick, dark. It's beautiful. It must grow like a weed, and with his genetics, you're not surprised it's this long in only four months. "Why now?" 

Nathan growls, shoving you back away from him gently. "Quit touching it!" 

"Then answer my questions!" 

"Fuck you!" 

"Fuck you too, Nathan!"

He narrows his eyes at you, glaring daggers. This is how it always is with him. Constant fighting about stupid shit because he doesn't know how to express himself around another human being eighty percent of the time. You're sure it's why he hired you, so he didn't go feral out here on his own. The other twenty percent of the time he is bearable and you actually really like that twenty percent. 

You let out a soft sigh and relax your shoulders. Yelling at each other isn't going to get you anywhere right now. You'll take the initiative and soothe the room. "Did your clippers break?" 

"Yeah." He grumbles, no longer looking at you, but to the bar behind the dining table. 

"And you didn't buy a new one when you went for groceries?" 

"I didn't go."

"What?" 

"I didn't go for groceries."

You close the gap and step in front of his line of sight. "Nathan, what have you been surviving on?"

"What was left. I've got some MREs in the office for emergencies. Well, I did." He runs a hand through his hair and turns away. "I'm fine. I'm alive, obviously." 

"So you just dismissed my alarms? Why didn't you go? I know the flight is a pain in the ass but it's better than starving. Is there nothing left?"

He walks out of the room, toward the kitchen. 

"Nathan!" You groan and let out a yell of frustration. If he ate everything and didn't replenish anything, then you're going to have to call the pilot back tomorrow and ride another two hours into the city, go shopping, then ride two hours back. 

"Fuck!"

_____________________

After a grueling day of travel and shopping you start making dinner. You've not seen hide or hair of Nathan since you found out he's been barely living for the last four months. You can't fathom why he wouldn't go out, why he wouldn't even get you to bring him something. Sure you were in Seattle for the time you were gone but you probably could have managed to get on a plane and bring him some protein bars. It just kills you, knowing he just let himself suffer. But why? To prove a point? What was it?

"Dinner is almost ready." You say, pressing the talk button on the kitchen com system. He probably isn't listening but it's worth a try. The man must be desperate for a real meal. 

As soon as you get everything plated, on the table and glasses of wine poured, Nathan appears. You can only assume he watched you on the cameras, so he knew exactly when to show up. He is always checking in on you with those cameras. It was alarming at first, when you arrived about a year ago now. But these days it's alright, a sense of security, knowing that if something were to happen he would be there in a heartbeat. 

"Steak, spinach salad with bleu cheese, and a potato." You say softly, presenting the food like a gameshow host with your hand as he sits down. 

"I can see what it is."

"Mmhmm." You stuff a fork full of spinach in your mouth. "Can you see the poison then?"

A small smile plays at the corners of his lips and you don't miss it for a millisecond. "Must be tucked into the cheese crumbles."

You grin around the rim of your wine glass. "Soaked the steak in it actually." 

"Clever." He mutters dully, biting a piece of said steak off his fork. 

You eat a few more bites in silence, just staring awkwardly at each other. You have so many questions about what he was doing while you were gone. But you know he won't answer them, not now at least. He will have to be exhausted or perhaps less sober. That actually is another question. Has he been sober for all this time? Or did he ration his alcohol?

"Good food?" 

"Fucking amazing." He says, voice barely above a whisper.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." He rubs his last bite of meat around in the bleu cheese. "You can cook like no other."

You feel a flush rise in your chest. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." 

"Don't get used to it." 

"Oh I won't." 

Nathan stands and takes his plate to the kitchen. "Did you get my shaver?" 

"Yes." You follow close behind and drop your plate in the sink beside his. "But I like it." 

"What?" 

"Your hair. I like it." You lean against the counter and he runs a hand over his head. "It looks... different."

Nathan rolls his eyes. 

"It's up to you, obviously. I'm sure you keep it shaved for whatever reason." You shrug and look away from him. "The shaver is in your bathroom."

"Thanks." He mutters and heads off into the house. He's going to the lab no doubt. 

_____________________

Finally two weeks later. Nathan is wasted. Gobsmacked, shit faced and three sheets to the wind. You got an allegory for it, that is this man right this second. Your chance is now, you can get his ass on the spot and start interrogating him. Well. That is if you can get him out of his lab. 

"Nathan, I have something for you." You coo softly into the com beside the door to his lab. "Something you'll like."

"Go away."

"Come on!" 

"Unless you're out there in some red panties and stockings then I'm not coming out."

You flush and close your eyes. He did not just say that. Surely he cannot mean that he actually wants to see you like that. God that's hot. Does he really want to see you like that? No. He's your boss. 

"What if I am?" 

"You're not."

"I could be."

"You aren't. Fuck off."

"You wanna see me all undressed hmm?" 

Nathan groans and opens the door, glaring you down. "You lied. Fuck off."

"No, I never said I was out here undressed. But now I have you." You shove your way into the lab office and plop down on his sofa. "You're not gonna get rid of me." 

Nathan stands at the door and sways on his feet. He seemingly is perplexed how you managed to overcome him and slip into his space. "You're a pain the ass."

"Mmm and you're a thorn in my side." You lay back on the sofa, and prop your legs up on the armrest. "C'mere, I wanna talk." 

"You wanna talk? What do I look like? One of your gal pals?" 

"Maybe with a little mascara, some eight inch pumps...yeah."

"I'll give you eight inches alright." He sinks into his desk chair and grabs a bottle from the desk to press to his lips. "What do you want?" 

You sit up and brace your elbows on your knees. "I want to know why you didn't leave here in four months."

"I didn't need to." 

"Nathan, you were living on MRE rations like a bunker crazed maniac. You barely called me, and when you did it sounded like you were doing fine. What happened?" 

"You left."

"Yeah?" You chuckle softly. "I had to settle things back home. I told you that, you knew where I went." 

Nathan takes his glasses off and sets them aside. "I think...I think I rabbit holed into my insecurities and loneliness."

You raise your eyebrows. This is going deeper than you imagined it would. "Okay. How so?" 

He tips the bottle up against his lips. "I thought, well maybe you wouldn't come back. Why would you? You got out, I let you go willingly. I felt like I just deserved to suffer alone." He shakes his head. 

"Nathan, why didn't you tell me this sooner?" 

"And make me look like a desperate fucking idiot? How would that look? Desperate lonely billionaire misses assistant so much he begs her to come back." 

"So you did miss me."

"Fuck." He rubs his palm into his eye and lets out a yell of frustration. "You're the only person I've had proper physical contact with in like three years, I've gotten attached to you, and you just don't even understand how messed up I am!"

You stand and walk over to him. "Nathan, do you have feelings for me?" 

He stares up at you, and sets his bottle aside. It's sloshes, mostly empty. "Don't play with me."

"No one's playing."

"You hate me. I'm so mean to you, and I yell at you and piss you off everyday."

You chuckle softly. "Oh yeah, that's all true. But when you're not being difficult, that's when you're incredible. You're so hot and cold I should have run away but somehow I still wanted to come home."

"Home?"

"Yeah." You run your hand over his hair and his head slumps forward. He hasn't shaved it off. It's been a few days. "You're insufferable but I can't get enough. I love how you talk, how you think, how you are always making sure I'm comfortable and happy even if you think I don't notice. I love how you look at me, glancing to make sure I'm still there, to make sure I'm real. I know how you need me."

"Don't want you to leave." He mutters, eyes heavy. 

"I'm not leaving." You kneel down, arms across his lap and he looks at you, hand going to your cheek.

He strokes his thumb over your lower lip. "Be my good girl."

"Nathan," you whisper and your heart threatens to explode and you're flushing, heat pooling between your legs. "You're really out of it."

He smiles lopsidedly, pressing his thumb between your lips and you open your mouth automatically. 

You lick the pad of his thumb and give a quick suck before pulling back and standing up. "You're way too drunk." 

"Come back here."

"I'm going to bed." You lick your lip, the taste of his thumb is salty. If he weren't wasted you would consider exploring this further. You've wondered if there would be more between the two of you. It felt natural. But he's your boss. This is your job and as much as you would like to be more with Nathan you know this has to end here. He's not a relationship guy. 

Nathan pushes up from his chair and slumps over onto the couch. God he's fucking gone. He won't even remember this in the morning. It's for the best. 

"Good night." 

_____________________

You make your way to Nathan's room with a bottle of water, two Tylenol and a banana. He's going to be so hungover it's not funny. You hadn't realized how much he was drinking until you found the empty bottle of vodka in the kitchen trash can and the rest of a small bottle of whiskey in the office trash and you had only bought both just the other day. Not to mention all the beers he sucked down while in the lab, a good six of the eight pack. Oh boy is he going to be hurting. 

"Nathan, hey," you call softly, sinking down beside him on his bed. "It's almost noon."

"Lea'me 'lone." He grumbles into his pillow, wrapping his arms around it tightly. 

You run a hand up his back, settling between his shoulder blades. "I brought water and a snack." 

He turns his head, face smushed into the pillows as he looks at you. "What happened last night?" 

"You got very drunk and drank literally everything we had. I'm not sure how you're alive." 

"Did I do anything?" 

"Nothing I wouldn't expect of you." 

He shoots you a leery glare. "The fuck's that mean?" 

You shake your head. He doesn't need to know he started spilling his guts and coming on to you more than playfully. "Nothing. You were a dick."

"I'm always a dick sweetheart. I told you that when you started."

"You did." You rub his shoulder and he groans. "Come on, get up. Have your banana, pills and water. Get a shower. You've got a video call in an hour."

"Oh fuck off." He presses his face into the pillows. "Attend for me. I want to sleep."

"It needs to be you. It's an HR meeting about hiring new staff to run diagnostics on Blue Book backlog data."

Nathan grumbles unintelligibly. 

"I'll make your favorite lunch." 

"Mm'not hungry."

"I'll join you in the shower." 

He pushes up fast, nearly knocking the Tylenol from your hand. "No take backs." 

"Nathan! I'm not actually going to shower with you! You're my boss for God's sake. I just said it for shock value to get you to roll your hungover ass out of bed. Shit."

"Yeah but no take backs." He grins and swallows back the pills you hand him. "Come on, it's not like you haven't seen me naked."

"Uh no, I most certainly have not."

"Oh yeah you have." He smirks, eyes holding yours in a challenging gaze. "You liked it too."

"What?!" You shove him and stand up, throwing the banana at his lap. "Eat your snack and get your shit together. I'm going to take a hike." 

Nathan rips his banana top off to peel it and takes a bite. "You're not gonna set up the meeting stuff?" 

"You just turn on your webcam when they call, Nathan."

"What if I need help?" He says teasingly. "You're my assistant after all."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Would you like me to wait until they call? You want me to stand beside your desk and click the button to answer with a video camera on? Is that it?" 

"You could sit on my lap." He pats his legs. "Keep it nice and warm for me."

You twist your face quickly into an expression of distaste before a flush begins to heat your skin. This is just Nathan. He isn't flirting. He's being an asshole to get a reaction from you. He's like a child. Don't reward bad behavior. 

"Oh you're thinking about it." He murmurs, voice dropping lower than usual. It's almost sultry. You've not heard this tone but maybe once before. "You wanna fuck your boss don't you?"

"Absolutely not." You grip the side of the door a little harsher than you mean to. Just another step and you're out of the room. Away from his eyes. Fuck. His eyes. What is that look for? It's so...commanding. 

Nathan presses the door closed and you lean against it. "You're a horrible liar."

"You're projecting."

"Am I? Or were you on your knees in front of me last night?" He raises his eyebrows. "Oh you think I don't remember? That's cute."

"You know that isn't what happened." 

"I know you let me put my thumb in your mouth. I know you licked it, sucked it, willingly." He catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "You really want me don't you?" 

You narrow your eyes. "Maybe I want you, but I have morals. You're my boss, I'm not going to just fuck you for no reason and I intend on keeping it that way."

Nathan drops his hand from your face. "You'll come around. You can be my employee and still fuck me. I'll allow it."

"Yeah, whatever." You pull the door open and he steps back. "Go shower. You've wasted enough time."

_____________________

 Days later you go for a supply run and come home late in the afternoon. As you haul the bags from the cart you use to get them from the helicopter to the front door you see Baxter on the sofa in the living room. He's curled up, the fireplace is on, he's living his best life. Wait. Baxter. No. 

"Bax what are you doing in here?!" You set the bags down and hurry to the fireplace to snatch the little gray cat up from his warm nap spot. "How did you-"

"You're back." Nathan says sleepily from the couch. He sits up and runs a hand through his hair. God it looks so good, it's gotten longer you swear and fuck the curls are just maddening. "You wanna tell me something?" 

"I'm sorry. I couldn't leave him with anyone and he is like my child. I couldn't just abandon him." You cradle Baxter against your chest. "I'll leave, if I have to. You can fire me."

Nathan chuckles softly. "Fire you? For having a cat?" 

"You said he couldn't come with me. You specifically said no pets under any circumstances."

"Yeah, but maybe I can make an exception for this guy." 

You set Baxter down as he begins to squirm. He hurries over to Nathan and winds around his legs. 

"Come here." Nathan pats his lap. "Come see daddy." 

Baxter jumps up and curls up on Nathan's lap, head butting his hand for attention. It's the most bizarre thing. Baxter has never taken a liking to anyone this fast. It's as if he's been living with Nathan for weeks. 

"He never likes people like this. What did you do to him?" 

Nathan strokes his hand down Baxter's back and massages his ears. "I didn't do anything. I gave him affection."

"How did you find him?" 

"He's loud." Nathan laughs, looking at you with a soft smile. "You were on a walk in the woods and I heard him crying one day-"

"Wait what? You've known about him before today?"

"Yes." He gives you a look that says you're not fooling anyone. "I've been seeing him for days now. Almost two weeks."

You groan and press your back against the fireplace. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted you to tell me. I wanted to see how long you thought you could lie to me."

"I didn't lie. I never said he wasn't here."

"Very true."

"So he was meowing? That's how you found him?" 

"Mmhmm." Nathan chuckles again. "You must have forgotten to feed him before your walk. Because as soon as I gave him food he was happy."

"Fuck. I probably did." You sigh and laugh softly at yourself. "I'm terrible at hiding things."

"Yes you are." His eyes catch yours and you glare at him. "What's the look for? You jealous?" He pats his leg where Baxter isn't stretched out. "You wanna sit on Daddy's lap too?"

You cover your face with your hand. "For fucks sake you're a freak. No, I would not like to sit. I'd like help with these groceries." You point to the long forgotten bags by the door. 

Nathan peeks over the back of the couch. 

"Come on," you shoo Baxter off his lap and as you turn away to go get the bags, Nathan pulls you backwards down onto his legs. "Nathan."

He chuckles deeply against your back. "What?"

"I'm not sitting on your lap."

"Mmm, yes you are." 

"Nathan," you sigh softly and stand up just long enough to turn around and straddle his legs, facing him on the couch. It stuns him silent for a second as he stares up at you in bewilderment. "This what you want?"

He grins big, hands running up your thighs. "Just remember that you escalated this, not me."

"I just sat down."

"Oh no sweetheart, you sat down with a purpose." He pulls you flush against him. "I thought you had morals."

"I do." You lean in and his lips part instinctively. "I haven't done anything against them."

Nathan grips your ass and you collapse against him, foreheads together. "You're pushing it."

"I just wanna see you weak, Bateman."

He narrows his eyes and shoves you off his lap. "Little late for that." He mutters as he retreats into the house and you climb up off the floor. If he thinks you're not going to push him to admit he wants you more than sex then he has something else coming. 

_____________________

Two days later you're making breakfast and out of the corner of your eye you see Nathan walk in. You pay no mind. It's not unusual that he comes and grabs a water or a cup of tea before breakfast. You turn, plates in hand to put the eggs on and the moment you see Nathan you drop them. 

He shaved. Holy fucking shit he shaved his beard very close and his hair is still grown out. He doesn't have his glasses on and who...who the fuck is this? How does one person literally shapeshift? 

"Oh fuck, are you okay?" Nathan looks down at the shattered plates. "What happened?" 

"What- you! What happened?!" You gesture wildly to his face. "Who are you?!" 

He laughs, straight up laughs at you. "Is it that bad?"

"Bad? I wouldn't call it bad." You run a hand over your hair and look around for a tea towel to pick the glass up with safely. "It's not bad." You can't help but continuously glance at him. 

Nathan grabs a large bowl from the cabinet on his side of the kitchen and you both kneel down to clean up the glass. "You like it." 

"It's different."

"Good different."

"Yeah." You sit back on your heels and take another good look. "I almost couldn't believe it was you." 

Nathan drops the last piece of glass into the bowl and brushes his hands off on his sweater. "It's been a while since I went this short. Ten years maybe."

"Damn."

He smiles and it's like he's a different man. You cannot stop staring. It's all familiar, like if you were seeing his brother, or maybe twin. It's the same teeth, same turn of his lips, but that beard being nearly gone makes him so...fucking attractive. Not that he wasn't attractive before, you dug the buzzcut and beard combo, you dug the beard and grown out hair combo. But this is...this is hard.

"Hey, your eggs are burning." 

"What! Fuck!" You scramble to your feet and sure enough the sunny side up eggs are hard yolked and brown around the edges. 

Nathan dumps the bowl of glass in the trash and places the bowl in the sink. "Let me make something."

"I- what? You?"

"Yeah." He wraps his hand around yours on the pan handle and moves it back off of the burner. "I can cook y'know. I did it a lot before you moved in."

You step back and let him carry the pan to the trash. "Is it April fool's day?" 

"No? It's November." 

"You're being nice to me."

"Am I?" 

"Yes?" You fold your arms across your chest. "Suspiciously nice."

Nathan turns and quirks one eyebrow up. "Suspiciously nice? I don't think I'm being suspiciously nice. Maybe...considerate."

"Not a word I would associate with you either." 

"Well, I can just have a power bar and get out of your way if you like." He folds his arms, mimicking your pose. 

You chew on your lip. "Are you okay? Seriously, you've never offered to cook and you've managed to not insult me for a solid ten minutes. You even helped me clean up the glass. You're not...you."

"I had a good night's sleep."

"So you've been a dick because you haven't slept properly since I met you?" 

"Maybe." 

"Maybe? Okay y'know what." You raise your hands and let out a little laugh. "I get it. You are trying to get me to sleep with you. You have been for weeks and I can't just sleep with someone without being in a relationship. You've changed your appearance, knowing I'd like it. You're being nice, acting like you're some normal guy as if you think I'm into that. You just want to get in my pants so bad that-" 

"Or maybe I am trying to be a better person because I realized I'm going to run you out of my life if I keep being the way I am." He runs a hand over his hair and tugs. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come on so strong."

You're floored. He's left you speechless. Never has he said he's sorry, for anything. 

"You don't have to say anything. It's fine. I understand that I'm a lot to handle. You have been so patient, and understanding in this last year, and you go toe to toe with me and you don't stand for my shit, so I think you must have been put in my life to force me to make a change. I've been trying to get in your pants, yes, but I don't just want that. I want you." 

"Oh."

"I've been thinking about this since you left, and even since you came back. It's consumed me for the last five months and I-" He bites his lip and looks away from you. "I'm in love with you."

Your eyes widen. "You....Nathan..."

"It's fine, I understand if you don't love me. I've been awful and selfish and-" 

"You're really in love with me?"

"I don't waste words, you know that." 

You step forward and reach out to touch his cheek. The beard is so short, still there, but not bushy in the least. "I love you too. Even if you're a pain in the ass and a little egotistical." 

"So I don't have to be disgustingly nice?"

"I didn't fall for disgustingly nice Nathan."

"Thank fuckin God." He grabs your hips and pulls you against him. "Felt like I was playing house." 

You giggle and he groans. "Nathan."

"I love your laugh." He grips your hair and tilts your head back, kissing your throat. "I love how you say my name." 

A little moan escapes your lips as he scrapes his teeth along your neck. "Hey, easy, relationship first and sex later."

"Mmm. What do you want sweetheart? A date? Gifts? Long walks in the moonlight?" He leans back and looks at you. "I've got a proposal for you."

"What's that?" 

"Be my girlfriend. No, be my wife." He bites his lip and cradles your face. "Yeah, you'd be a damn good wife."

You raise your eyebrows. "Not sure I like the implications of that." 

"You don't like the implication that you'll be the richest woman in this country, own half of Blue Book, have everything you could ever want, and be a goddess to a god?" 

"A goddess to a god huh?" 

He smiles and presses his head against yours. "That's right. Besides, we already have a kid." 

"We do?"

"Mmhmm. Baxter. I'm his daddy and he knows it."

"Oh hell. Shut up." You roll your eyes. 

"I'm your daddy too." He hauls you against him, hands on your ass. "You like it, admit it."

"No!" 

"Yeah you do." He kisses across your jaw and down your neck. "It's okay, it's just us you can admit it." His tongue lavishes against your sensitive pulse point. "Come on, tell me you like it."

"Nathan," you moan softly and he rolls his hips against you. "Please."

"Just say it." 

"Never."

He chuckles and pulls back, leaving your neck damp and aching. "I'll get it out of you. I know you wanna say it but you're too shy." He bumps his nose against yours and your head swims "I will bide my time."

"Yeah, a long time." You press your lips to his and he hums softly. "I'll think about your proposal."

He chases your lips as you pull back. "I'll be waiting."

"Relationship first." You run a hand over his hair and push him back. "Gotta show me you truly want more than what's in my pants." 

"Absolutely." He pushes his sleeves up. "I'll be the best husband." 

"Let's stick to boyfriend for now."

"Husband sounds better." He grabs a clean pan from the rack over the stove. "So, breakfast?" 

You hop up on the counter and watch as he moves about easily. "I'll take whatever you got."

"I've got a lot." He smirks and you roll your eyes. "But let's start with breakfast."

"Yeah, let's."

End 

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Header by delicate-venus

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you read or enjoyed and support content creators like myself - A

*****Note: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted works.*****

[mashedpotittiess]

Games of Tomorrow

Header created by my muse and bb R. Title: Games of Tomorrow. Pairing: Taehyung x Reader. Mentions of: Hoseok, Jin, Subin (Victon) and OC’s Summary: A simple game of beer pong stirred up some not so innocent feelings between you and the man you held much disdain for. After all, he was your enemy. The person you couldn’t seem beat when it came to grades. You were never enough for the rich and popular but maybe just maybe you’d show them what you were all about.  Words: 13k Rating: M  Genre: Enemies to Lovers!au, College au!, Smut, Fluff, Angst.

This was all inspired by this photo which I just edited (color, background and the text)so all original photo credits go to the owner.

A/N: What started as a simple short drabble ended in this much longer than intended fic. This is my first pic so pls be gentle. I am but a noob to tumblr writing. I hope you enjoy this craziness <3 this fic is dedicated to my friend who picked Tae to be the first character I wrote about and sat there and listened to me freaking out cause the fic kept getting longer. Ily R. This is Un-Edited so i apologize in advance for the mistakes. I’ll re-read it and fix mistakes as i come across them. Tags/Warnings: Smutty smut smut, Jealousy, Drinking, Mention of Marijuana, Oral (female receiving) Fingering (female receiving), Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids) Fluff, Angst, Size kink, Tae mentioning his DIG BICK, semi rough sex (not really though).

Fic inspired Playlist Link:

spotify:playlist:77Hd51hVnDHe8Q9JaLxGbD

Taglist: @a-mess-of-fandoms @dnyad

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“Absolutely not” you said calmly into the cellphone receiver. “But y/n! You need to let loose once in awhile, and no I’m not talking about sitting on your couch eating bowls of Ramen and cheese popcorn while watching re-runs of Boy Meets World with a big glass of too much Whiskey” Layla practically whined. She had been trying to convince you to go with her to Seokjin’s party on Saturday for an entire hour. She was right, you knew this coming weekend you’d be plopped onto that same blue couch in your big band t-shirt and fuzzy socks doing exactly that. “I’ll think about it” you finally mumbled out and could practically hear the smile in your best friends voice as she exclaimed a ‘woot woot’ “Okay Hot Stuff, i’ll text you later, gotta get to Volleyball Practice” with that she hung up and you continued your walk to what you’d call a ‘Headache’ of a class.  It’s not that you hated Econ per say, it’s that you studied your ass off, completed extra credit assignments with a flourish and took wonderfully color coded notes (if you say so yourself). But yet, HE still scored higher than you (even if it was just by one point) and what’s worse is that he NEVER seemed to study, never seemed to care.  Trudging into class you took your usual seat in the second row close to the middle. Organizing your laptop, books and assortment of pencils and pens on the table. As Professor Carmine began his lesson writing “Principles of Economics” onto the whiteboard with his usual navy blue marker, you diligently took notes and nodded along with his rhetorical questions.  “Before we end for today lets see who can answer this simple yet intriguing question, “Would you consider Inflation or Deflation of cost cycles to be more costly to a business?” You pondered on how to word your answer for about two seconds before raising your hand. “Yes Ms. Y/L/N” you shifted in your seat slightly. “While I know this question has no definite answer as it can be interpreted many ways, I would say with our current Economy, Inflation of prices would be more costly,” Before you could continue you heard a Deep Baritone voice that you knew too well scoff. “So you think Deflation would benefit a business? that’s essentially lowering your prices which in turn leads to loss of income” You rolled your eyes nonchalantly and turned around in your seat to look at the man in the fourth row who had not only interrupted you but disagreed and voiced his disagreement.  “I said with our current economy Inflation could hurt a business. Do you think regular people can afford to buy a $3,000 purse when they make minimum wage? It could cost a company to make said purse for $200 with cost of material and labor. If you lower those prices by a fraction, said company would still be making money and you could possibly have more demand as more people with regular paying jobs can afford you buy said purse. If you higher the price less  regular people can afford such a luxury item which could hurt the demand. Thus causing an issue with the income for a business”. You said staring at the red haired man pulling a cock of his right eyebrow from him. “Regular people don’t need a $3,000 bag, you want brands to lower the prices so poor people can buy their items? How sad. Tae is right, just higher the prices and get more money. Businesses will make their money regardless of the lower or middle class purchasing their items, as long as they have people like us,” a high pitched voice you recognized as Nami said gesturing to herself and the perfect barbies next to her “buying from them”. Before you continue the alarm from your Professors phone startled you and signaled the end of not only your Monday class but your discussion as well. You picked up your items, shoving them in your bag and trudged out of class. As you passed Taehyung with Nami, Michelle, Hoseok and Gigi at his back he smirked at you and you swore you heard Nami giggling ‘Bet she’s never even held a Chanel bag in her hands. she just wants everybody to be ratchet like people like her’. Smiling to yourself you turned around and flipped them the bird “At least I don’t have to go crying to daddy to buy me a new set of tits, I make my own money and work hard for it. Something you wouldn’t know a thing about, and THAT is what I find sad about your entailed fake ass”. your voice carrying through the hall as you turned back around and made your way back to your dorm. ——————————————— “You know what day it is? TACO Tuesday” You exclaimed while taking a shot of Jose Cuervo and stirring your meat to ensure its cooked properly. Your roommate Casey giggled and Layla downed a shot with you while blasting a Pitbull song. After plating your dinner of carne picada tacos topped with all your usual veggies and homemade Salsa you smiled while your friends posted pics to their instas, Captioning “BB y/n made us food”.  “I still can’t believe you told Nami her tits were fake” Casey giggled while shoving a fistful of popcorn into her mouth. “y/n said her tits and her ass were fake” Layla corrected and you smiled at your dorky friends. “She deserved it, nothing I said wasn’t true. You all were sprawled out on the couch pilled high with fluffy blankets watching a random episode of The Nanny and laughing at random jokes Layla said while scrolling through her Insta feed. “OOOOOOh Valeria is getting ice cream with Subin” Casey practically pouted at the post and you sighed knowing your roommates crush on Valeria which did not go unseen by Layla, causing a metaphorical lightbulb to go off in her head. “You know Casey, Valeria is going to be at Jin’s party on Saturday” Casey being held buzzed sat up catching the bait and worried her bottom lip “Is she?” Layla nodded “This could be your chance to get a fistful of all that Latina, metaphorically and not so metaphorically” she crudely added with a wiggle of her eyebrows and you literally face palmed at your best friends words. Instead of being equally gassed out, Casey however downed her coke and stood up triumphantly “It’s time I tell her!” Layla stood up with her screaming a loud ‘yaaaaas queen’ and both pairs of eyes looked towards you sitting their nursing your Sprite. “What?” you questioned and immediately regretted when both girls practically jumped on you, squishing you between their bodies. “I can’t confess without knowing you and Layla are both there” Casey pouted her soft pink colored lips causing you to shake your head. “You do not need me there while you confess to your crush.”  “But what if it goes bad? what if she rejects me, or worse; makes fun of me? What if i need to leave and I’m crying and I have snot everywhere an-“ Before she could continue you sighed and covered her mouth with your right hand. Nodding you stood up and smiled at both girls “Fuck it, Let’s get your Girl!” you knew Casey had liked her for literally an entire year and you knew you’d feel like shit if you weren’t there supporting your friend as she bared her heart. “I’m only doing this for you though, so know that I love you.” ——————————————— While the rest of the week you were dreading the party Saturday knowing Nami, Taehyung and the other were going to be there, it was Thursday night that was the straw that broke the Camels back. You had just finished returning your copy of Ulysses when you passed Nami practically hanging on the redhead talking about her Angel costume for Seokjins party. Rolling your eyes as you passed you stopped as you heard her ask “What are you rolling your eyes about? This is a private conversation” she flipped her hair over her left shoulder and you yet again rolled your eyes. “This is a public hallway, which means anything you say that can be heard by others can in fact get a response be it verbal or physical by someone other than the intended person in the conversation.” You were just about to turn around when she hmmphed “Whatever, mind your own business” turning around you were met with Layla jogging towards you. “Hot Stuff, what are we going to wear to the party? I’m thinking Doja Cat from the ‘Juicy’ MV, omg you should be -“ Before your best friend could continue, Nami stepped towards you with her arms crossed. “And how did someone like you, get an invitation?” punctuating the ‘you’ she pointed at you. “Jin and I are both on the Volleyball team” Layla stated and turned towards you “And he said I can bring whoever I wanted.” “I still don’t know why you hang around people like her” she once again pointed to you with her baby pink manicured index finger. You knew Layla had money and could very well fit in with their group. You sometimes felt like you were her downfall, the anchor to her social climb. But she always reassured you that she hated people like Nami and never understood why out of everyone, she hated you in particular for the passed two years. “Maybe because she’s my BEST friend, whoever gets invited to the party doesn’t involve you Nami. It’s JINS party, not yours.” Layla shook her head and you bit your bottom lip while curling your fists at your sides trying to calm yourself down.”Maybe she should be Donkey from Shrek, or maybe an edgy emo kid from 2010 with her ugly tattoos” Nami smirked and you heard Taehyung ‘who was scrolling on his phone let out a light laugh, his deep baritone further fueling Nami’s ego. “Have you ever even been to a party? like have you ever even left you dorm for something other than classes and your jobs” she sneered at the words jobs. “You should just reconsider coming, people like YOU don’t belong. People like YOU really should know your place” Your jaw visibly ticked “Seems like you have an obsession with anything my best friend does, is this like you having a big lesbian crush on her?” Layla said while placing a hand on your shoulder and doing her best Janice from Mean Girls impression. Before Nami could say anything back Taehyung nodded out a “Guess we will see you there then, bye Layla, bye y/n” turning to leave. Nami rolled her eyes and checked her phone “Not like it’ll matter what you wear, wait, OMG you should soo wear a ghost costume, it would suit you. Get it? cause you’ll be invisible and you don’t belong” then turned around, her yellow heels clacking against the tile as she following Taehyung down the hall cackling. “I still don’t know why she’s always hated you of all people? like it’s been two years of the same thing with her. I honestly don’t know how you haven’t hit her. I’ve seen you fight” She smiled and grabbed your hand, holding it while you all made your way down the hall, which made you smile and let out a small giggle at her comment about you fighting. She knew about your childhood and how you practically lived at you neighbors boxing gym to let off steam as a stress reliever. You had agreed to find a suitable costume as rage filled you from Navi’s moments and Taehyung’s lack of interest in the matter. (not that you would’ve expected much from him)

As you scanned the rows of costumes hung on the wall neatly you waited by the changing room while Layla and Casey tried on their costumes. “I think i’ll just go with this one” Casey smiled softly while twirling in her peter pan costume, her blond bob swishing lightly. “It’s so cute!” you hugged her and turned to see Layla emerging with a shake of her head “This isn’t giving me enough Doja Vibes”. You let out a hmm and pulled the pink/red mid length wig from your left and threw her a pair of red tights telling her to go put those on while you scoured the items on the racks.  Layla finally emerged from the dressing room after you finished giving her the scattered pieces you had found. Clutching the green watermelon rind skirt, she twirled around in the same manor Casey did earlier and shook her pinky/red bandeau covered chest at you. After tightening the green suspenders that were connected to the skirt she smirked “Now it’s your turn Babe, and Casey and i are paying” before you could interrupt her she continues “not buts! You agreed to find a costume” Shaking your head you said a chorus of “No’s” vehemently at every option she held in front of you. “Y/n you need something to accentuate how hot you are! make her eat her words” you huffed and shook your head “Naughty Nerd is not the way to go Nami” Hanging the customer back on the rack she mumbled a “she said nerd so i figured hot nerd would be well, hot”. You grabbed a simple Witch costume that consisted of a mid length purple dress and a black hat with matching stockings, something low key but still a costume. Before you could go pay for it Layla grabbed your hand and stopped you. “No, y/n that isn’t enough, plays were paying” she pointed to herself and Casey who nodded.  “Layla I don’t want to draw anymore attention to myself, I don’t need to look “hot” cause I’m not. I’m just a regular person who isn’t enough for these people. I’ll never be or do enough” You look down at your right arm and traced the intricate patterns of your black and white peonies and hibiscus that lined your inner arm. Your friends had never seemed you look so vulnerable, and something in Layla snapped.  “She called you invisible and said you weren’t enough but guess what? She knows all about you makes sure you’re always uncomfortable around them. Which means she sees you as a threat”. you bit your bottom lip at her words “She has called you ugly, ratchet ‘which who says that anymore, poor, insignificant and she made fun of you working your ass off to pay your tuition because your deadbeat parents can’t do shit for you. You’re the smartest person in class, you’ve got street smarts and fuck man, you can literally kick a grown mans ass. Remember when those guys were grabbing Casey at the club and you stood up for her and literally fought two of them and won? Little miss prissy bitch couldn’t stand a 5 secs with that y/n. I know you don’t bother with fighting her cause you’re afraid of her connections and getting kicked out of school but fuck y/n grow some balls”  Snapping your head in her direction you walking up to her standing in her face and exclaimed “Firstly Taehyung is the smartest in my Econ class. Secondly, don’t you think I’m already aware of what she says about me? don’t you think i want to punch that stupid smile off her face full of fillers? You wan’t me to grow some balls? FUCKING FINE, but I’m not wearing a “sexy nerd costume.” Smirking and trailing your fingers along a row of costumes  you looked at your friends. “I’ll show her just how hot I can be”  Layla smirked at you “That’s my girl, so what do you have in mind then” You slid your fingers along what felt like vinyl. Cocking your right eyebrow up you gripped the material. “What’s hotter than the Devil?” ——————————————— Standing in front of your mirror in your bedroom you were already regretting your choice in outfits for tonight. As you stared at yourself you reminded yourself why you were doing this. You were going to prove a point and that was all that mattered. you were going to prove you weren’t any of the negative things Nami said about you. Running your hands down the scrappy vinyl like material that was covering your chest and part of your upper body. Your hands stopped above your navel where the top stopped and you cocked your hip to the side, descending your hands further down your bare skin to the top of the matching vinyl like skin tight pants that resembled shiny black liquid covering your skin leaving little to the imagination. You plopped yourself in front of your desk to the makeshift vanity that was full of makeup products for the nights preparations. Curling the ends of your hair you laughed as Layla pranced around shimmying to Nasty by Brooke Candy. “Don’t trust that hoe he N A S T Y” you all yelled the lyrics.  Finishing your Deep Burgundy and black smokey eye, you applied a sharp winged eyeliner and smoked out the lower lash line. Applying small round black jewels under your eyes you finished the look with a deep burgundy matte lipstick, fluffy lashes and a soft pink toned blinding highlighter. “We have like 5 minutes, get your asses in gear” Layla announced as you were tying your simple black leather choker around your neck. After zipping up your over the knee 5 inch stiletto vinyl black boots, you placed your black horned headband on your head securing the little clips in your hair and primped the strands around your face to frame sexily.  The ride there was filled with bopping to music and Layla yelling that you were a bad bitch out of the windows for all of the campus to hear which caused you to yell as the Uber driver. Taking a deep breath, you exited the car and holding Layla and Caseys hands, you walked the short distance of the walkway to Seokjin’s Lavish off campus Townhome. The smell of weed and alcohol mixed with the sound of loud bass thumping greeted you as Layla pushed open the door. Walking through a sea of bodies you felt several pairs of eyes on you and you had to remind yourself it was fine. Settling yourselves in the kitchen, you started to make you all some drinks while Casey looked out for Valeria and Layla handed you cups and bottles. You decided simple Margaritas on the rocks were safe for the night and handed them to your friends. A tall and beautiful man you knew as Seokjin himself walked in and greeted you all, making sure to give Layla a hug to which you noticed her little blush creeping down her neck.  “I’m glad you all could make it! Layla are you Doja Cat? omg Casey you’re Peter Pan! y/n are you the devil? oooooh are those Margs I see?” SeokJin asked which you nodded and asked if he wanted one as well. “Yes please! I suck at making drinks, oh and please just call me Jin” Smiling you stirred the mixture into a clear cup and handed it to him earning a dazzling smile. As he took a sip, Jin pressed his right hand to his chest over his heart “You NEED to come to all of my parties and make me drinks. This is so delicious” As he mimicked the chefs kiss signal you laughed and Layla beamed a smile at him. “Y/n works as a bartender part time at Nely’s next to campus” You nodded and sipped you drink while surveying the beautiful white marble kitchen and chrome accents. “You have a beautiful Home Jin” you smiled to him which made him softly pat you on the back “Thank you! I take pride in my kitchen. It’s where I blow off steam from Volleyball practice” Layla shook her head “You need to blow off steam? you practically don’t even sweat while we run plays” to which Jin scoffed “We all need to blow off steam Layla” You and Casey watched as both people seemed really comfortable with being around each other. You noticed Layla blush and Jin smile every time their eyes met. “Oh you’re here” said a shrill voice you knew none other than Nami herself, dressed in a fluffy white see thru robe, white satin dress that barely covered her butt, knee high white vinyl go-go boots, white lace stockings and sitting atop her head a thin gold halo attached to a headband. Next to you Layla smiled and placed her hand on her hip “Yeah, we said we would be here so here we are” you heard the brattiness in her voice and giggled when you notice Jin staring at her hips. “Ew, don’t stay too long” Nami said while walking out. Jin shook his head which prompted Layla to ask why he had invited Nami. “Well our families are friends and my roommates are friends with her” You cocked an eyebrow” You have roommates?” Before Jin could answer you heard a deep baritone laugh getting closer, turning your head to the side you saw Taehyung accompanied by Hoseok walking into the safe haven of the kitchen. “Tae, Hoseok, come meet Layla and her friends Casey and y/n!” Jin smiled “These are my roommates” As the men stepped closer you tried your best to cover the shocked look on your face. “HEY we have two devils!” Hoseok yelled out and smirked.  Taehyungs hair was parted down the middle and some of his fringe was swept up into two red ‘horns’ he donned black skin tight vinyl pants, red shiny shoes that looked a lot like Gucci Mules, a sequined Blazer with only one button down right above his navel that accentuated his chest as he decided to forgo a shirt and a thing black choker similar to yours but tied in a small bow sitting in the hollow of his throat. Feeling his eyes roaming over your body and landing on you horns you busied yourself by chugging your drink and earned a holler from Hoseok. “Hey y/n can party!”  Before anything else could be said, Casey spotted Valeria who was waving at you all to join her in the living room. Throwing your cup in the trash you followed Casey out of the now suffocating kitchen and tried to hide your expression as your eyes met the Red Devil while you slid passed him.  “Hey girls!” Valeria smiled and hugged you both causing Casey to blush. Layla had stayed in the kitchen talking to Jin which made you smirk knowingly. “This is Subin” the man next to her looked up from his phone and sent a side your way, you noticed his costume as a werewolf from the looks of his tattered ripped shirt and what looked like a gnarly bite mark on his collarbone.  “Hi I’m y/n and this is Casey” Casey narrowed her eyes at the man and how close he was standing to Valeria mumbling out a ‘I know who Subin is’. As you four talked you noticed Valeria standing closer and closer to Casey while laughing at some inside joke they shared. Before you knew it Valeria had swung an arm around your friend and they shared a soft smile. You really hoped all went well for Casey, if not, you might have to kick some ass. While you were thinking of the cuteness overload that Casey and Valeria together could be you heard a shuffle from your right “you look nice when you smile” Subin smiled at you and you felt the pink tint forming on your cheeks. As Casey pulled Valeria with her outside for some “fresh air” which you knew as go time. You decided to get straight to it and ask Subin himself “Are you and Valeria a thing?” choking on his drink he coughed out a loud ‘no no no no’ and you cocked an eyebrow. “Val and I are just friends, plus she’s not really into someone like me like that?.” “Someone like you?” Nodding Subin smiled knowingly and looked towards the door both girls had just slipped through. “As in she like boobs, your friends boobs to be exact.” Your eyes widened “Wait no! not her boobs, she liked your friend in general i was just saying boobs to accentuate how Val wouldn’t like me anatomically.” You giggled at how flushed he had gotten and he smiled along with you. You hadn’t noticed a pair of eyes staring as you talking to the man dressed as a werewolf. Hoseok noticed the look in his friends eyes, it was the same one Taehyung had gotten anytime you rolled your eyes at him, ignored his presence or had gotten in a heated debate. He had been sporting that look every time he looked at you for a little over two years now. Since your first year of college when you had shared a Psych class and battled for top spot in class. He knew his friend had taken an interest in you and it never dissipated.  Taehyung sipped his beer and kept his eyes glued to your face while you smiled and laughed at something the man next to you had said. Hoseok was tired of nothing coming from this and slammed his beer down hopping onto the coffee table earning a ‘that wasn’t cheap get down!’ from Jin “It’s beer pong time!” Hopping off the table he stood in front of you in all of his Napoleon Dynamite Glory. “Y/n come play beer pong” he smiled at you and you could help but notice how beautiful Hoseoks smile was. Shaking your head “I don’t think i’ll be playing tonight Hoseok but than-“ Nami cackled at you from her band of barbies and interrupted “ Hope, don’t waste your time with her she isn’t worth it. Plus she probably can’t even play, she’s never even been to a party before.” Thats what caused you to roll your eyes and place your hand into Hoses outstretched one. “I’ll play”. You and Subin followed Hoseok to the side of the living room where a few beer pong tables were already set up. Layla and Jin had joined you as well, intrigued to see you playing. “Okay teams of two. Usual rules of no leaning over the table, must drink your drink if a ball is sunk, one re-rack per person on each team, and if a trick shot made with one hand behind your back and a foot away from the table is sunk by the opposing team they may make a request that you have to complete. Said request can’t be anything illegal or THAAAT bad. “Can I take a shot instead of drinking a beer? I don’t really do well with beer” you asked honestly which cause Hoseok to holler “Fuck yeah!”  Before you could pick a teammate Hoseok smiled and pulled Taehyung over “We have to have the two Devil’s playing” You shrugged and asked Subin if he would be your partner to which he smiled an ‘of course’ which earned a cock of an eyebrow from Taehyung which Hoseok noticed and smirked. “I’d be on Tae’s team but I think to make it fair we should have another female” Nami walked over laying her hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and smirked “I’ll play” you rolled your eyes and mumbled an ‘i’ll play’ mimicking her shrill voice which earned a chuckle from Subin. “Ooh an Angel and a Devil on the same team, how heaven and hell” Hoseok smirked and set up the cups handing each team their set of ping pong balls. Layla and Jin brought you a bottle of tequila (your eyebrows shot up when you noticed it was ‘Gran Patron’ and then you remembered these people are well off. You had made the marg’s with a different bottle of Patron which while not cheap wasn’t as expensive as this particular bottle was) and shot glasses to replace the typical drink of beer if a ball is sunk. Beer really didn’t sit well with your stomach, you assumed it was the carbonation.  “Layla you do know this is like a $500 bottle of alcohol right?” Layla smirked and Jin smiled responding “I don’t really drink Tequila unless it’s in a marg and my uncle left this bottle here from his last stay, as far as I’m concerned you can have it.” You opened the bottle letting the smell of Agave fill your senses and re capped it. “Ready?” Hoseok asked to which both teams agreed.  Taehyungs team started to which Nami missed her shot, the next shot was Subins and he sunk it, picking her to chug what looked like some sort of fruity cider. Taehyung was next and he lined up his shot before seemingly sinking it before he looked up “Subin drinks” he said smoothly and Subin drank what was left in his cup. You were up next, carefully lining up your shot you watched as the ball plopped right into the cup and looked at the duo in from of you. “Nami drinks” Nami rolled her eyes “Ughh again??” she exclaimed and you smirked “What? can’t keep up?” you asked to which she grumbled and drank what looked like another cider. Nami sunk her next shot and picked you to drink, as you poured the liquid into your shot glass you smirked right at her while downing the shot like it was water. Unknown to you, a pair of dark eyes watched as you licked your lips while placing the glass down. The game continued with each of the teams missing and sinking shots until you won the game, hugging Subin you both had only had around 3 drinks each and decimated the other team. Taehyung called for another game as in 2/3 wins to win the full game. You had surprisingly agreed but only because Nami wouldn’t shut the fuck up with her little snide comments and you loved the look on her face every time she missed or you sunk her shot.  The second game continued until there were only 4 cups left on your end and 3 on the opposing team. You and Subin hugged each other after your last shot that nailed Nami yet again and she held her stomach calling celebrity shot which basically called Hoseok into the game to replace her. You were 5 shots in and feeling light, not nearly drunk but nicely buzzing as you could hold your liquor well. Stepping in Hoseok smirked “Imma flip things up, If i sink this shot ya’ll gotta do my request” Folding his left arm around his back he took a few steps away from the table and focused on nailing the center shot, and to your surprise he actually did nail it. “Hmm little devil, I request that you take a shot” Your eyebrows shot up as that sounded easy enough. “Oh dear, not a normal shot. I’m talking about a body shot, your partner needs to lay on the table and you have to follow all body shot steps down to the lime in his mouth.” Rolling your eyes you turned to Subin to ask if it was okay with him. Your buzzing partner agreed and insisted after you asked if he was sure. Laying his body down on the table with the crown of his head facing Hoseok and Teahyung. He lifted his shirt up to his chest so that you could sprinkle salt from his navel up to his chest. Filling the shot glass, you placed it above his belly button and gave him the lime wedge to slip between his lips. Taehyung gritted his tech as you climbed onto the white table situating yourself above Subins lap. People who were watching the game from afar gathered closer to watch as you once again asked Subin if it was okay and he smiled a yes. Leaning down you tentatively dragged your tongue from his belly button up to his chest licking up the salt, then dipped back down to his belly button and wrapped your lips around the shot glass leaning up and getting the liquid pour into your mouth and down your throat. You crawled up his body and carefully took the lime from his mouth, making sure to dig into the flesh of the lime and not actually touch his mouth. After all, you just met him and didn’t want him to think you were taking advantage of anything. Throwing the wedge into a discarded cup you hopped off of the table and handed Subin a napkin to wipe the remnants of salt and tequila off of his body.  “Can we get on with the game?” Taehyung grumbled and you rolled your eyes nodding. Subin sunk his next shot and Hoseok took a shot of Tequila instead of chugging a beer. It was now 3 to 2 and Taehyung missed his next shot, too focused on the way you were fanning your hand over the back of your next from the warmth the liquor was giving you. It was your turn and you sunk your next shot causing Taehyung to chug the beer Jin handed to him. Hoseok smiled and once again moved his left arm around his back “Might as well make it interesting, another request for another trick shot” you rolled your eyes and smiled at the brunette as he wagged his eyebrows and closed his eyes. You truly did not think he would sink another trick shot, let along with his eyes closed. But as you watched the ball sink into one of your cups your eyes went wide. You heard hollers and screams hyping up the shot that Hoseok had just made and mentally readied yourself for another body shot. “If you’re thinking I’m going to have you do the same thing, you’re wrong” Your eyebrows furrowed and he smirked “It’s Subins turn to take a body shot” Taehyung let out a deep warning “Hoseok, don’t” You didn’t understand why he would have a problem with it but you turned around to look at Subin to ask if he was once again okay with such a thing. He nodded and in turn asked if you were okay. Smiling you handed him a shot glass. After you situated yourself the same way Subin had, you saw him falter on where to put the salt since your top stopped right above your navel, and you grabbed the bottle of salt from his hand and placed a trail from your collarbone up your next. You figured it was safer than your cleavage.  Subin handed you the lime wedge and you softly bit into it watching him fill the shot glass and place it above your belly button. Layla looked down at you and smiled as she saw you getting chorus of “Fuck yeah y/n” which had made Nami who was sitting down roll her eyes. Climbing into your body and leaning down, Subin let his tongue drag along your collarbone to your neck slowly before leaning down and wrapping his lips around the shot glass in the same way you had done to him and leaned up to gulp it down. Leaning down once again he was about to take the lime wedge from your mouth when a hand n his shoulder stopped him. Before you could ask what was going on you saw a strand of red and felt a pair of lips on yours pulling the lime away.  Taehyung had had enough, he was tired of seeing you with Subin and even more tired of the games Hoseok was playing. When he watched Subin lean down to your mouth he couldn’t take it anymore and his body reacted on it’s own. Doing what it had been wanting to do for years.  You watched as Taehyung spit out the lime wedge a leaned back down to capture your lips in his in an upside down kiss. A chorus of oohs and oh shits followed which caused you to push him off and jump off of the table. You shook your head at him and wrapped your arms around your body “What the fuck Taehyung?” you asked but before anybody could answer you, you asked Jin where the bathroom was to which he pointed out and you ran there hearing a “wait” being yelled but you didn’t care you needed to get out of there. You were being watched by everybody and that accompanied with the kiss from someone you thought you hated and assumed he hated you as well, well that was too much. Walking into the first floor bathroom you slammed the door and made your way to the sink. You looked at yourself in the mirror then looked down, bracing your hands on either side of the sink trying to calm yourself down.  You could hear the bass thumping, causing the walls to lightly vibrate. There was a loud knock on the door followed by a series of “y/n please please open the door.” Letting out a deep breath you ran your index finger along your lash line, wiping any excess makeup that had smudged during your beer pong game. Stepping towards the door you swung it open only to be greeted with your best friend flinging herself on your short frame despite the high heeled boots you donned. “Hi, I love you, and before you say it. I know you want to go home but please don’t let those people get to you. So what if Tae kissed you? Don’t even acknowledge that ass wipe, and omg you should’ve seen Navi’s face when he kissed you. She legit looked like she was going to blow up like some sort of doll filled with helium!” Layla placed her hands on either side of you, softly gripping your shoulders, her deep brown eyes staring into yours softly. “Hey, talk to me? If you really do want to go home, i’ll go with you. But I really think you shouldn’t let anything that just happened get you down. Let’s just go back to the living room and dance all these feelings away! You’ve got me, Jin, Subin and Casey and Val ‘not that i know where they are.” While she rambled on you took in your surroundings, noting the pristine glass shower situated in the corner followed by the chrome towel rack that supported plush light grey towels. The porcelain toilet stood across from it, tucked into a corner of the light grey walls that matched the towels. As she finished her speech you already knew what you had to do, you weren’t going to let this get you down. You were so fucking tired of letting people get to you, you had no control over your life growing up but you sure as hell had control over your current self. You had amazing friends, were incredibly intelligent, worked your ass off at both of your jobs and were happy with the way you looked. Quirking up the left corner of your mouth you leaned in and planted a big smooch on your besties left cheek. “Layla, you’re right” Surprise crossed your best friends face, followed by a knowing smirk. “That’s my best bitch! Let’s get our asses down there and show them what a bad bitch you are, not that you haven’t already. I mean, dude you totes slammed like 6 shots no problem and you look HOT AS HELL.”  Giggling you took her arm into yours and let her take you down the hallway into the crowded living area. The LED lights lit a soft purple hue that bounced off of the cream colored walls, further creating that fantasy look that enticed party goers to let all their inhibitions go. You noticed someone had moved the coffee table to a far corner closer to the beer pong tables, which had expanded the makeshift dance floor. The DJ was bopping his head to the current track he was mixing and the sea of bodies moving themselves to the beat was massive. You clutched Layla’s hand in yours as she pushed her way through the dancers and you all finally settled closer to one of the couches that had been pushed to a corner opposite of the tables where Jin, Subin and Hoseok had been waiting for you two. Jin placed a hand on your shoulder as if you check if you were alright and you smiled while nodding. “I’m so so sorry y/n, are you okay?” Subin asked and searched your face for an answer. Smiling at the man who had been your partner in crime for the passed hour, you nodded. “It’s all good, no need to be sorry. I do need another drink though. I think that little stint in the bathroom may have sobered be up more than i’m happy about.  Hoseok smiled and shouted a ‘Gotchu’ before he bounded back off to the kitchen mixing up some concoction you knew would be strong. “Theres seems to be a lot more dancing than before” you jutted your chin towards the sea of bodies and Jin laughed. “I think most people are in that drunks haze where dancing is all they can do since they can’t seem to stand straight.” You chucked softly as you knew all too well how dancing enticed drunk people. The brunette thrusted a clear cup into your hands, quirking an eyebrow at him he responded with a chuckle. “It’s just bourbon on the rocks” Testing the liquid in the cup you smiled confirming it was in fact bourbon and nothing gross. You spotted Nami hanging herself on Taehyung in the corner towards the tables, your eyes met as she looked back at you with what looked like rage. Leaning her body upwards she leaned in towards his right ear and appeared to be whispering something to which he shook his head while staring into his glass. This seemed to upset her, huffing she once again leaned back up and attached you pink gloss covered lip to his neck. For some reason this had annoyed you to no end. For years Nami had been al over the tall man, only to be semi rejected with her advances which had brought you an odd sense of joy and seeing her lips on his neck as he just stood there caused you to rip your gaze away fro the pair and bring your cup up to your still burgundy tinted lips as the lipstick had faded away and left you with a just bitten look. Leaning you head back you downed the contents of the glass and slammed it down on the nearby end table that was situated by the couch. “Let’s dance?” you handed Jin your purse pulling Layla to the dance floor with you, not needing an answer to your question. As you both pushed through to the middle of the grinding crowd you best friend leaned in to your ear letting you know she’d be right back. Before you could ask what she was doing you saw her watermelon headband bounding up to the DJ who nodded when she leaned in close to him. As the first notes of the beat started you couldn’t help the smirk that planted itself on your lips. You giggled as Layla shimmied her way towards you and the first lines of the song began. Letting your body sway to the music, Layla laid her hands on your hips. “That’s my best friend, she a real bad bitch. Got her own money.” You both sang as you moved your hips in her hands.  Placing both of your hands on her shoulders you turned her around and pulled her back close to your chest. Jin had been staring at your friend’s hips swaying along with yours and you decided you wanted to put on a show for him. Running your hands up her tight covered thighs up to her waist she leaned forward and gave her ass a little twerk causing you to chuckle. Turning her body around she gripped your hand in hers and spun you around, you made sure to wiggle your hips as you spun. “She been down since the jellies and the bow-bows” you shimmied your hips and saw Casey and Val bounding their way towards you two. As they got closer you noticed Caseys Peter Pan hat had gone missing and Vals pink lipstick was smudged, both girls walking hand in hand. Throwing Casey a knowing smirk she shrugged lightly and Layla wrapped her arms around both girls, creating a circle. “Where have you BEEN?” Layla yelled over the music at the two but shook her head after taking in their appearances “Nevermind I don’t want to know, wait, or do I?” wiggling her eyebrows she smoothed down Caseys wild blonde bob. Val seemed to enjoy the blush that had formed on Caseys cheek and she leaned close to place a kiss on either cheek, further fueling the crimson on her cheeks. As the intro to Bad Bitch by Bebe Rexha came into play you all raised your hands up into the air and swayed to the beat. Hoseok came into view, thrusting a shot into each of your friends hands and you all posed for his snapchat video while downing the shots of what tasted like whiskey. “Gross, I don’t know how you like liquor” Casey said, her cute face scrunching up into a sour expression and you giggled.  Leaning down you touched your toes and twerked your ass to the beat earning a “fuck it up” from Layla and Val. As you ground your hips back into your best friend you looked up catching Taehyungs burning gaze on your flushed face. Cocking an eyebrow up at him you turned around in Layla’s hold swaying your hips. “Ugh, prissy bitch incoming” Layla whispered into your ear and you followed her eyes to Nami who pulled Michelle and a bored looking Taehyung onto the dance floor. Your eyes followed Navi’s movements as they slid up and down the devils chest and Michelle settled her hands on his shoulders behind him. Your jaw tensed as Nami’s hands trailed up to his neck. Meeting his dark gaze you narrowed your eyes slightly and shook your head, turning around and grabbing Hoseoks hands pulling him closer to you. The LED lights turned a deep red hue as the opening to Streets - Silhouette remix started and Val exclaimed “Let me put this on insta, y/n your horns loom so good in this light!” Posing with your back towards Hoseoks with your head leaning onto his shoulder, the latter gripped your hips and leaned his face into your neck while Val took the picture.  As the tune changed and the beat dropped with it’s intoxicatingly slow beat you swayed your hips against Hoseoks, bending your knees and slowly sliding up and down his body. Trailing his fingers up your sides he grilled your hips and turned you around to face him. You heard Layla lean into Casey saying something along the lines of ‘oh shit’. ‘I found it hard to find someone like you’ you slid your body down the Brunettes, never leaving his gaze ‘send your location come thru’. Leaning back up you rolled your head around and he wrapped a hand into your hair, his other gripping your right hip tighter. your hands settled themself on his shoulders and you leaned towards his left, your eyes catching onto Taehyungs dark gaze, his eyes never leaving yours as Hoseok ground his hips into yours. Even as Nami wiggled her hips in front of his and trailed her hands under his blazer, his arms stayed at his sides, never touching the Angel nor the Bunny who still danced her body against his back. Hoseok knew his friend was watching and he couldn’t help but smirk, gripping your hair tighter he moved your face towards him and pulled you in until you were a few centimeters from his lips as he moved your hips along with his. ‘We belong and I can’t be without you’ Doja’s voice crooned through the speakers as Hoseok leaned in closer to your lips over the hazey cloud of smoke and tightly packed bodies. You internally debated wether or not you truly wanted him to close that gap and land his lips on yours, but the only thing you could think of was the gaze of a certain someone on yours.  Before you fully decided on if you wanted the man in front of you to kiss you, your body was pulled away from his. A strong grip was formed around your wrist and all you registered was Layla and Casey wide eyes before you were being pulled away from the dancing bodies and up the stairs. You barely registered the click of a door being opened followed by your back hitting the hard wood. “What the hell were you doing?” Taehyung rasped out staring deeply into your eyes with a mixture of what looked like want and fury. You placed your hands on his chest pushing him back slightly and jutted your chin upwards. “Excuse me? I was dancing with my friends and Hoseok, not that that’s any of you business” Taking a step towards him. “What the hell do YOU think you’re doing? dragging me up to this room and thinking you can manhandle me.” Receiving no answer you shook your head and were prepared to turn around and walk right back out of that door. “You drive me fucking insane. Seeing that Subin guys hands all over you and then you dancing like that with my best friend.” You felt yourself being pressed against the door once again with his large hands on either side of your head, his rings glinting against the soft light filtering in through the open curtains. Cocking your eyebrow up at him you stood your ground. “What? are you Jealous?” you snorted out. “Yeah, yeah I fucking am” At his surprising answer you looked up seeing nothing but want in his deep eyes with a glint of something else you couldn’t quite place. “You’re fucking insane. Don’t play with me” you rasped out, your voice hoarse from singing and dancing earlier. “I’m not playing” was all you heard before your head knocked back against the wooden frame of the door followed by a pair of plush lips crushing yours with a ferocity you suddenly craved. He tasted like cinnamon and liquor and you loved it. Something inside you both seemed to snap in that moment and you trailed one of your hands up, curling your fingers into his soft hair and tugging on the makeshift horns it was styled into. Your other hand settled itself onto his warm chest fingering the labels of his blazer. Taehyung growled out at you reciprocated the kiss and trailed his right hand down the door, settling on your hip and pulling you impossibly closer to his body. Feeling teeth nibbling at your lower lip you gasped out and he took the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth, your tongues immediately fighting for dominance. Tugging his hair harder you felt his hand that had been on your hip slide lower until it was gripping a handful of your ass cheek, followed by a grunt. You could still hear the music that was thumping downstairs but it was slowly being drowned out by the man in front of you. The plush pair of lips that was against yours slowly trailed down to your jaw, nipping at the flesh softly until they reached your neck. Nuzzling his face against your warm flesh as he littered the area with whisper soft kisses. Slipping your hand under his blazer you trailed your nails lightly along his skin earning a low hiss from his deep voice. Smirking, you dug you nails harder “You’re playing with fire babygirl” Taehyung gripped both of your hands into one of his large palms and pressed them against the door frame grinding his hips into yours. Feeling his length against your covered core you couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped your lips. Taehyung trailed his lips back to your neck and sucked on your pulse point causing you to arch your back. “Y/n i really don’t want to stop, but I need to know that you want this too” the man in front of you pulled back slightly while he waited for a response. Letting out a small ‘yes’ he leaned back down capturing you in another searing kiss. Flexing your wrists in an outwards circular motion you freed yourself from his grip and took a step forward placing your hands against his chest and effectively spinning him around so his back hit the door.  Despite the height different even with your heels you kept your palms flat on his chest with your strength, keeping him against the door. Arching a dark brow up at you Taehyung smirked. “Not going to lie, that was pretty hot” you felt him grumble against your mouth as it attached itself to his tan neck. Sucking a few bruises against his flesh you felt his need growing against your stomach and you couldn’t help your involuntary clench of your thighs. His smell was intoxicating, a mixture of fresh linen, cinnamon and musk. You felt his hands trail up the backs of your thighs and grind the flesh under your ass, signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist. Leaving one more bite against his neck you complied and jumped up latching your legs around his sturdy hips. Walking you both backwards, Taehyung leaned you downwards until your back was hitting the large bed tucked against the wall. Arching your back towards him you pulled him onto your body by his shoulder and moaned into his mouth as he captured your lips in his. Biting down on your lower lip hard, Taehyung ground his hips down against yours.  While his mouth felt incredible against yours you knew you wanted, no, needed more.“Need more” you whispered out causing his to chuckle against your lips and lean his body up. Smirking down at you he cocked his head to the side and trailed his index finger up your torso and chest. “Sorry love, I couldn’t hear you. What was that?” Rolling your eyes you reached up tugging his hair into your grip. “I said, I.Need.More” you said though gritted teeth at the knowing look in his eyes. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” before you could retort you felt his mouth latch itself on your collarbone and his hands trailing down your legs, pulling the zippers to your boots down before tossing them on the floor somewhere. Trailing his hands behind your back he began trying to undo your top. “While these straps are hot, they aren’t fucking functional for shit. How the hell do I take this off?” Taehyung practically growled out causing a chuckle to leave your lips. Leaning up slightly you helped him unhook the main portion of the top and pull the strappy harness over your neck. Tossing the item he had been fumbling with to the side he couldn’t stop admiring your breasts covered only by your black lace bra.  You shivered as he trailed his hands up your chest, his cold rings causing your nipples to perk up and a gasp to leave your mouth. Leaning his face down, Taehyung started trailing soft kisses along your chest downwards to your torso and back up. His hands were once again at your back, this time working fast successfully unhooking your bra. Looking into your eyes he hooked his fingers under the straps on your shoulder and slowly pulled down releasing your breasts from their confinement. Biting down on his lip he started at your perky nipples and full breasts. He had always loved your curves and didn’t ever think he’d get to see them this way. You felt his soft lips wrap around one of your nipples and gasped as his tongue lightly flicked against the hard pebble. Your hand in his hair pulled him closer to your chest and he smirked. He pinched your other nipple between his fingers which earned a low moan. His mouth being soft on one of your nipples and his fingers being rough on your other one caused an intoxicating juxtaposition and you couldn’t help the little whines that left your throat. Fiddling with your button and zipper, Taehyung successfully started to pull your pants down, leaning up and leaving your nipple with a loud pop of his mouth. Tugging to pull your pants off of your legs he hissed when he saw your core only covered by your thin lace panties. You heard your pants hit the floor in a loud thump and bit your lip in nervousness as you realized just how exposed you were in front of this infuriatingly beautiful man. “You’re fucking beautiful” He rasped out, trailing his eyes up your body and landing on your face. Before he could hike your legs open and upwards you spoke up “You have way too many articles of clothing on” Smirking he complied with your request and popped the single button holding his blazer together, sliding it down his shoulders and throwing it in a heap on the floor. You heard his shoes being kicked off as well before he leaned back down to resume his earlier ministrations. His large hands slid down the insides of your thighs and pulled them open to reveal your soaked panty covered core. You swore you head him let out a low whine but before you could comment on it you felt a warm pair of lips latch onto your clit through the fabric. Arching your back off of the bed you gripped his shoulder in your hand. Taehyung rubbed his index and middle finger along your slit and hooked themselves around the fabric pulling it to the side and exposing yourself to the cool air and his waiting mouth. Laying his left palm flat against your lower tummy he leaned in giving you a soft tentative lick to your slit. Biting your lip between your teeth you moaned out when he latched his mouth around your clit and sucked harshly. “F..Fuck” Hearing your moan he sucked against and gripped the flesh of your thigh with his other hand keeping your legs open. Alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue against your sensitive nub he loved the way you tasted and couldn’t get enough of it. If it was up to him he would do this all day every day.  You ground your hips up into his mouth causing him to smirk against your cunt. “Needy” he growled out and trailed his fingers that had been on your thigh down to your slit, running the tip of his middle finger around your opening before sliding itself in to the knuckle. You brought your right fist to your mouth and bit down to keep yourself from moaning out. Slowly pumping his finger in and out, he watched as your finger disappeared into your wet heat taking him in so good. “Fuck you’re wet” Looking up into your eyes he saw you biting down onto your fist and stopped his ministrations “ If you want more I need to hear you babygirl” Muffling a ‘please’ you released your fist from your mouth and wove it into his hair. Pleased with your sounds he continued sliding his finger in and out of you, adding his index finger into your heat hissing at how tight you were. “Shit you’re tight, gotta make sure you’re nice and ready for my big cock babygirl” Arching your back, you felt his press against your inner walls and curl his fingers causing you to dig your fingernails into his shoulder and tug his hair harder with your other hand. Latching his mouth back onto your clit he lightly hummed which sent vibrations through your body. Whining with need you continued grinding your hips up onto his face and rolled your eyes closed. Taehyung looked up at you watching your fucked out expression and almost choked when he heard you whining his name. Working his tongue against your click he started to harshly pump his fingers into you before slowing down and inching his middle finger into your heat. You felt your cunt burning at the stretch but the look in his eyes caused another gush of arousal to seep out and coat his fingers further. “Jesus..fuck you’re so hot and you taste so fucking delicious” As he slowly pumped his fingers in and out you felt your stomach clenching, that familiar feeling on your realize building with each flick of his tongue against your clit. “Tae.. Tae i’m going to cum if you keep doing that.” Sucking harshly he curled his fingers and pressed against your g spot “Cum babygirl, let me taste you before I slid my fat cock into your needy cunt” Rolling your eyes back you felt your legs start to shake as you gripped his hair almost painfully between your fingers. Your stomach tightened and you felt yourself clench around his fingers. Your breath becoming shallow as you let out a series of ‘oh fuck yes’ and ‘omg omg’ your hand that had been on his shoulder came up to your chest as your pinched your nipple between your feelings and felt the metaphorical dam of your orgasm approaching.   Taehyung sucked harshly before grazing his teeth lightly against your clit and your eyes shot open feeling your legs convulse and your toes curl. With a final whine you felt yourself cum all over his tongue which he licked up like a starved man. Breathing deeply you felt the sweat drip down your brow for your intense orgasm and when he stood your eyes followed down his torso gleaming with sweat and down to the prominent bulge in his pants. Biting your lip you caught him staring at your cunt that had just cum around his finger and he started to pull your beyond soaked panties down and off of your legs. Looking back up into your eyes he slipped each finger between his plums lips and licked them clean.  Groaning at the action you felt yourself clench. “Think you can take more baby?” He smirked at you and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him against you and ground your soaking cunt against his covered length. “You’re getting me all dirty, fuck that’s hot” He growled out and slid his fingers down unbuckling his belt. Popping the button of his pants, he pulled the zipper down with your eyes following every movement. Sliding his pants down his thighs he kicked them off and hooked him thumbs into his black briefs. You couldn’t tell if you were really drooling but once his slid his fried down and his cock sprang free you knew me heard your very audible groan followed by a clench of your thighs. Sliding his hand along his shaft, he pumped his leaking length a few times and reached to the side opening a drawer and seemingly looking for a condom. Gripping his arm you shook your head “I’m on the pill, are you clean?” His eyes widened at the possibility of what you were saying and he nodded “I haven’t had sex in a few months and when I did I wore a condom, I also get checked every month if you want to see the results I have them on my pho-“ You cut him off by leaned up and kissing him. As you layed back down against the pillows you smiled up at him an he swore he felt his heart flutter and his cock pulsate. Hooking his right index finger under your thin leather choker he pulled you up and he ground his uncovered cock against your dripping pussy. “As much as I love these, they have to come off they’re barely hanging on your head. Not knowing what he was talking abut you felt his fingers prodding at your scalp and finally run through your hair with the devil horned headband and clips in his hand. Setting them down on the beside table he leaned back piping his cock and wrapping his fingers around his thick head of his shaft. Leaning down he took your mouth against his and you felt his thick tip push against your slit. Locking your ankles around his back you ran your hands down his shoulder and gripped his back. Your walls pulsated around him as he slid in inch by inch and you threw your head back as your walls accommodated his thick size. When he finally bottomed out in your heat he stilled letting you relax as he filled you to the brim.  Sliding his tongue against your he grunted when you involuntarily clenched around him. “You're so fucking tight, you make me crazy” he growled out and settled his mouth against your neck, nipping and sucking the skin as he slowly pulled out only to ram himself back in. Moaning loudly your grip on his shoulders tightened and you knew you were leaving crescent moons on his luscious tan skin. “Crazy? you seem pretty soft to me. Why don’t you fuck me and show me just how crazy I make you” you teased. After sucking harshly on your neck he sat back up and gripped the undersides of your thighs pulling them apart from his hips. “You’re so bad, want me to ruin you? Open you up with my fat cock?” you nodded and  trailed your tongue along your lower lip preparing yourself for what he was about to do.  Ramming himself up into you again you grated your teeth and looked up into his dark eyes. His rhythm was slow and harsh, pounds into you with each thrust of his hips. Your walls enveloped him and he swore he wasn’t giving you up after this, hell he wasn’t giving you up after that first kiss on that beer pong table. He was going to make sure you knew how he felt and hopefully you felt the same way. If not, he’d respect it but at least he’d know you knew how he felt. Watching your tits bounce with each thrust he heard you mumble out a raspy ‘faster’ and he complied, pushing your thighs farther up against your chest. At this knew angle you swore you felt him in your stomach. “Oh god” you ground out and his eyes flashed even deeper if that was possible “Fuck yeah, moan for me y/n”  Sliding himself in and out of you at a fast pace, you could hear his balls slapping against your ass. The room filled with shallow breathes and curses spewing from either of your mouths.  Taehyung slid his palms under your ass and gripped your cheeks between his large hands, squeezing harshly before pulling you up so you were sitting on his lip with his cock still stuffed inside of you. As he thrusted upwards you met his thrusts by bouncing your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands held you by your ass, pushing and pulling your body on and off of his cock. Leaning towards him you sucked a bruise onto his neck and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. Feeling his cock his that sweet spot you shuddered and clenched around him tightly. “Stop doing that before I cum” he gritted out and you pulled back from his neck smirking. “mm maybe that’s what I want” With a sharp thrust upwards into your tight cunt he splayed his right hand agains the bottom of your spine and pulled you as close as you could get. “You’re devilish, I swear. You want me to fill up your little pussy with my cum? is that what you want? to get filled?” his deep baritone voice filled your ears and you clenched impossibly tighter around his shaft. “T..Tae fill me up..I need it!” you moaned out loudly and he pushed your body back down onto the bed, pushing your ankles towards your chest he situated himself on his knees and started ramming into you to the point where your body slid against the bed. Reaching one hand down, he lightly gripped your neck. “Yeah? want me to fill you up? Then cum baby, cum all over my cock.” “Tae..Tae..I’m going t..to cum. Fuck you’re so deep” your eyes fluttered closed as he gripped your throat and you held onto his back. “Cum for me y/n, let me feel you soak my cock as I fill you to the brim” Feeling your body start to convulse you opened your eyes to see his fucked out face, sweat dripping down his cherry colored hair and down his neck. His hand flexing on your neck and his abs flexing with every thrust. His low moan of your name sent you over the edge and you clenched around him. Your thighs closed around his hips and you moaned out his name. Curling your toes your this quivered and your inner walls fluttered around his throbbing shaft. Arching off of the bed and towards him his grip on your neck loosened and he leaned down capturing your hips in his as his hips stilled and you felt his warm cum spitting inside of your waiting heat. Thrusting his cock back in and out slowly he let out a low groan as the remnants of his cum filled you.  Taking deep breath he watched your face as he slowly slipped out of you and trailed his eyes down to watch the clear and white liquid leak out of you. Letting out a deep whine he leaned forward and captured your lips between his. His lips were soft against yours, still passionate but not as fiery as they had been earlier. Pulling back his gaze studied your face. “Tae..I” before you could continue he shook his head. “Wait before you say anything, please let me get this out. I’m sorry for the way things happened tonight but I don’t regret any of it. Iv’e literally liked you since we first argued about the attributes of the human brain during psych. That one time you called me an aloof imbecile I almost pulled you out of class and kissed that pretty look off of your face. I assumed you hated me and it made me mad, instead of being a normal human being and just asking you why you hated me I decided to take it out on you. If you didn’t like me, at least I could gain your attention arguing with you.” “And tonight, seeing you with those other guys..I couldn’t help but think it would’ve been better if it was me. I needed to stop being a pussy and just fucking tell you how i felt.” He shook his head as he spoke. “ What about you and Nami? and the fact that you laughed the other day when she made fun of what I should be for halloween and my tattoos” Scrunching his face he sighed. “First of all Nami is just a friend, well more like a family friend. Iv’e known her since I was young and I guess I was just used to her being there. Nami and i have never done anything and never will. Secondly, I didn’t laugh at whatever she said. to be completely honest I drowner out her voice after she asked how you got an invite. I has laughed at a meme Jin sent me of our other friend Namjoon whos away for a semester in Paris, with a bald cap on looking like a grandpa due to his old school vibe he always has. That being said, i’m sorry I never defended you when she said anything to or about you. I really wanted to but you were always so good at defending yourself and that one time Jose defended you, you had turned around and told him you didn’t ‘need a man’ to defend you. So that combined with me thinking you hated me, I just assumed you’d end up really hated me and wouldn’t give me the time of day when we argued anymore.” Climbing off of your body Taehyung sat down next to you and studied your expression. “I don’t hate you per say, I hated that you always argued with me, I hated that you scored higher than be despite never seeming to study while I worked my ass off, I hated that you came from money, you never had to fight for what you wanted or what you deserved. I hated that you were Nami’s friend and always seemed so aloof, like you really didn’t care about anything. But I didn’t..I don’t hate you as a person” you turned towards him. “Who said I never study? My parents would kill me if I scored sub-par. Hell, the only reason I can live here with Jin is if i keep up my grades and don’t disappoint them. If i didn’t care about anything my ass would be living in on campus housing and having an RA breath down my throat while my parents called me everyday asking if I was completing the study forms they sent over. Yeah I’m well off, but that’s my parents money and they worked hard for it. They put hard work and intelligence above all else.” your eyebrows rose at his confession and you get bad. You had assumed so much about him these passed two years and none of it seemed to be right. “I think that’s why I started to like you so much, you’re so intelligent, you work so hard at everything you do and you carry yourself like such a strong person. You kind of scare me if i’m honest” his deep voice chuckled and you smiled. “You’re beautiful inside and out”  Taehyung said softly brushing his thumbs against your cheeks. You could feel the tenderness in his chest and your heart fluttered. “Maybe I liked you too, maybe that’s why I always waited for you to argue with me. I like how intelligent you are, I like that you always have something to say about whatever point I’m trying to prove.” You said softly and the corner of his mouth lifter slightly “liked? past tense” Rolling your eyes you covered your face and grumbled. “fine, LIKE. As in present tense” Taehyung stepped off of the bed and chuckled “THE y/n likes me? i’m honored. Sure its not cause I just made you cum twice?” throwing your arm off of your eye you watched his figure retreating into another door before flicking a light on. “Shut up Tae!” Chuckling he emerged from what you assumed was an ensuite bathroom with a wet cloth and situated himself between your legs. “I like when you call me Tae” he said and you blushed, feeling the cool cloth wipe gently along your folds. Sliding the cloth along your legs he finished cleaning you up and smiled up at you gently with his every so beautiful boxy smile. Returning to the bathroom to drop off the cloth you heard the water turn on and assumed he was cleaning himself off as well. Letting your gaze look around the room you noticed the bookshelf across from the bed you were currently on. On its shelf sat different picture frames, books and what looked like plushies. On the other side of the same wall sat a dark grey desk complete with a laptop, a mini plant and various knickknacks and a chair with a navy blue hoodie that you noticed to be Taehyungs hanging off of the back of the chair. Next to the bed was a nightstand that had a lamp, an iPhone charging dock and a bottle of water. The door that connected to the rest of the house was on the same wall. Against the wall to the right of the bed was a large dark grey dresser that matched the desk and what you now noticed to be the bed frame. On the dresser sat bottles of cologne, accessories and a picture frame. Next to the dresser was the door Taehyung had disappeared into and another door you assumed to be maybe a closet. Furrowing your brows you realized this was Taehyung’s room and not just another guest room. Up until his confession earlier you assumed he lived in a luxurious off campus house paid for by his parents. While this was a luxurious Townhome it still wasn’t what you had pictured. As Taehyung walked out of the ensuite he opened a drawer and dug through until he found was he was looking for. Sauntering up to the bed he handed you a t-shirt and what had seemed to be your phone that had been tossed on the floor earlier and pulled on a pair of briefs over his legs. Holding the soft cotton material in your fingers you smiled and thanked him before slipping over your smaller frame. Checking your phone you immediately noticed a series of texts from Layla starting from concerned up to a text that had a winky face telling you to ‘get it, I came upstairs to check on you but your moaning let me know you were doing just fine’. Smacking your palm against your face you blushed bright crimson. Taehyung who had looking over your shoulder when you gasped at the text was giggling and you smacked his chest. “Ow, you hit hard” He said while still giggling. “So, would you..uh stay the night and maybe grab breakfast with me in the morning? I mean know that we’ve realized we both don’t hate each other and we kind of lik-“ Pressing your lips to his you felt him smile against your lips before you pulled back. “Yes, now can we sleep?.” Nodding Taehyung pulled you against his chest and brushed a few strands away from your face as your eyes fluttered closed. Running his hand along the flowers that decorated your right arm he smiled to himself before eventually closing his eyes as well. Interesting how Misunderstandings happen, isn’t it?

————————————

Omg this was supposed to just be a drabble from the pic of red haired Tae and inso from a game of beer pong, BUT ALAS this monster was born. this is my first fit so any constructive criticism is appreciated. Any love is beyond appreciated too <3 I have some ideas for other pics but i just want to get my page situated first. Any messages are welcome too <3 i lub talking to people.

-C otherwise known as, Potitties

[bakubabes-tatakae]

delicious 🤤 There’s this void inside him that needs filling. He wants a connection to keep him grounded and spies his super hot healer girlfriend playing with kids at the hospital and everything just...... clicks inside him. Breeding kink? And sasuke goes..... well, yeah. 🙈

Every Uchiha has a breeding kink. 🙌 I stand by that. I can’t see it any other way. 

Uchiha Lines || {NSFW} Sasuke x Reader

Warnings: breeding, unprotected sex, fluff, 18+ content, smut

Word Count: 1.1k

The walls of the hospital felt like they would close around Sasuke as he made his way down them. The eerie feeling that it left as he watched room after room filled with the injured nearly consuming him. He only ever came into the hospital to see you, but it was times like these that he wished that you had done something else for a living. The last thing he had wanted to do right now was be in this place. Guilt took over him as he stood before the many filled beds.

As he turned the corner to head toward your ward he knew that the feeling of hopelessness was going to consume him more. You worked on the pediatric ward of the hospital. Seeing the helpless children killed him every time. As he heard the sounds of commotion coming from the other side of the doors that separated the pediatric ward from the rest of the hospital. The door was an attempt to keep the despair of the injured Shinobi from the eyes of the children.

As his instincts kicked in Sasuke ran toward the door. He wasn’t able to decipher whether or not they were cries of pain or cries of happiness. But as he opened the doors he calmed. Five small children bounced around the figure of someone that he recognized.

He stopped in his tracks and admired you as your h/c hair bounced as you held a young girl’s hands, happily spinning with her. The aura of complete innocence that surrounded it pulling him in like a magnet. He had never seen something as wholesome as this sight, and it was making him wonder why he hadn’t thought of these things earlier.

He had never thought about how you would soon want children, or how great of a mother you would be in the end. He had never thought about how you had probably been wanting to ask him about children for some time. I mean... you did work with them after all. It should have been a big hint to him. His heart beat out of his chest with admiration as he saw all the young kid’s faces light up as they all danced with you like no one was watching.

But that’s when your eyes met. You stopped in your tracks and smiled at him, brushing your stray hairs from your face and slowly letting go of the young girl’s hand. As Sasuke leaned against the door frame you slowly approached him. You placed a hand on his chest. “What are you doing here Sasuke?”

A smirk tugged on the corner of Sasuke’s lip. “I just came to see you. I thought you might want to get lunch or something.” You smiled and looked behind you at the kids. “But if you’d rather hang out here I won’t stop you.”

You looked over at the desk that the other medical ninja sat at. “You guys can handle them for a little while right? I’m going to go have lunch.” When they nodded back to you you linked your arm in Sasuke’s. “Let’s go have lunch.”

He smiled and led you from the hospital. “I say we eat at home. I’ll cook.”

* * * * * *

As the front door of the house you shared opened the familiar atmosphere made you take a deep breath in. Before you could even say another word you felt Sasuke’s arms wrap around your waist, his hands slowly caressing the fabric that adorned your body. You looked to the side as you felt his lips meet the exposed skin on your neck. “Sasuke, what’s gotten into you.”

His lips left you neck and his warm breath upon your ear sent a shiver down your spine, his words causing the shiver to linger on. “I need you Y/n.”

You spun around and fell into his arms, your lips roughly meeting his. You hadn’t seen this much passion from Sasuke in ages. You looked at the clock that hung above the kitchen sink. Twenty minutes left of your break. “We don’t have long.”

He spoke against your lips, the vibrations making a pleasurable noise come from your throat. “I only need ten.” He grabbed your legs and lifted you off the ground, carrying you to the bedroom, your lips not once parting from his. “The way you were earlier at the hospital made me realize something. It’s time I put an Uchiha in you.”

With one swift movement Sasuke tossed you onto the bed behind you, tugging on the pants that dawned your waist and sending them across the room. The man was growing more and more feral with every passing second. He wasted no time. Knowing that you had barely any to spare he tugged his own pants down and freed his erection from its fabric prison. Lining himself up with your entrance and pushing your panties to the side he plunged into your core. You gripped the pillows behind your head as you tried to contain yourself.

His thrusts were animal-like as loud grunts and moans filled the room, accompanied by the sound of skin against skin. His ruthless thrusts were about to send you over the edge as you felt the tightness in your abdomen growing. As he felt your walls closing around him his pace slowed, the attempt to save himself futile as you felt his cock twitch inside you as your walls clamped against it, nearly suffocating him.

As he collapsed on the bed beside you he fought to catch his breath. You peered at the alarm clock that sat in front of your television and gave a sigh of relief. Five minutes to spare. Sasuke rolled back toward you and placed a hand on your cheek. You smiled and sighed. “We don’t have time for this Sasuke.”

His lips touched yours softly. “I just can’t get enough of you. You’re so intoxicating.”

You slowly sat up and tried to get off the bed, but his strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you back down. “Sasuke… I really need to get going. My break is over in five minutes.”

“Forget time limits. Just lay with me.” The Uchiha’s face was enough to have you melting as he looked back at you. “I just want to remember this moment forever.” You raised an eyebrow as you watched his soft features. “The moment that we become a family.”

[xperiwrites]

can you do some soft!geralt? 🥺🥺🥺 pretty please

This feels a tad like a cheat as I co-wrote this with @doodled93 for @geraskierweek buuut…..

TITLE: Conduction

SUMMARY: There’s a snowstorm, and Bards don’t hold heat the same way Witchers do.There is a (cuddly) solution.

WORD COUNT: 1801

(Netflix’s The Witcher) 

Day #3: Protection

Rating: G

Triggers/Warnings: None, just some cuddling and sharing body heat

Ao3 Link

The storm as it comes is not a surprise—it had been threatening and picking up since yesterday. Geralt had known from the start they wouldn’t make it to the next town in time. Jaskier had known, too—he could tell by the fact that the bard kept hypothesizing that, with a frankly unlikely amount of luck, they may yet beat the storm.

“The next town is four, five days you said? If we make it four, and maybe find an as yet unknown shortcut, that may cut it down to three.”

Geralt had hummed, watching Jaskier squint at the grey clouds, hands on his hips.

“Maybe if the wind stays at our backs we may travel at speed, cut it down to a further two and a half days…”

“The wind would have to push us off this mountain.”

“Why yes, Geralt, that is one way to look at it. Now then, two and a half days, well, two and a half days is nothing. The storm may not be that bad, you know? Despite all the,” he gestures, and he could mean the grey sky, the cold wind, the chill in the air, the darkness in the distance. “Well, you know all this. Could push through this grey and, ah, wind, and I bet at a good speed we could be only two days away from the next town… in fact,” Jaskier strode forward, arms sweeping ahead with flair, “in fact this wind is nothing! One might imagine that there might not be—ah, fuck!”

The wind picked up, then, and Geralt is smirking when Jaskier is shuffling back to Roach, arms tucked back to his sides, hands under his armpits.

“Well then,” Jaskier nudges into Geralts leg. “Four or five days to a town when there’s a storm like this brewing isn’t as impossible as one might expect, you know. I mean, it’s not entirely impossible we might encounter a… portal, of some sort. One we could reasonably and reliably assume would bring us, say, even a days’ ride away from the next town, and we’d certainly beat the storm with that sort of time on our hands.”

“And I’m sure you could recognize one such a portal, as well as the location it would bring us to?”

“Ah,” the man looks off to the side of the path, humming in a considering manner. “I… I do have many skills, as you well know. While that is not one of them—that I know of—it’s not unreasonable to assume that there are some skills I do not yet know of, but am perhaps born with. Perhaps I’m also a man with the skills to unconsciously put off very bad storms until after four or five days?”

“I suppose we’ll see.”

It would perhaps be annoying, all this hypothesizing, if the bard didn’t come up with consistently different ridiculous ways they might escape the inevitable. He’s been writing an ongoing maybe-it-would song for the past three years now, with familiar verses repeated with every bit of bad weather they encounter, the tune catchy even without an instrument. A quick beat to walk to, steps naturally falling in quick-time.

It’s not something Geralt has heard at a tavern, yet, so it likely hadn’t reached some milestone of completion Jaskier had set in that fool head of his—some of his songs were done in days or weeks, fine tuned to an audience well oiled with alcohol.

Then some of his songs, like this one, were worked over the course of months and years; Geralt could admit that the one about the nightwraith was both factually correct and catchy, but if he got it stuck in his head one more time…

The sky got steadily darker as more verse was added to the song, Jaskier repeating the established bits he’d gotten down the last time they’d been caught out in an awful rain storm. Geralt had caught two rabbits and a grouse in the meantime, hanging them from his saddle.

It could be the wind will come sweep us ahead

Skip days of this trudge—off some cliff, and we’re dead!

The clouds are so dark who’s to say night or noon

To be out in this cold must be truly a l-loon!

The d-damp it sinks in, soaking deep in my cl-lothing

So s-soggy I ssay, soon a Drowner be roaming—

“No,” Jaskier interrupted himself, shaking his head and following to where Geralt was leading off the edge of the path, only barely visible in the snow. “N-no, it’s no longer happy maybe’s, I’m afraid this bit of lyric has gotten away from me.”

Geralt got off Roach and led the two further off the path, listening to the faint whistling of the wind against an opening.

“You know, I don’t suppose it’d be very, ah, good to put the thought of a drowner d-down ones pants either, so—ah! A c-cave! Are we certain that it’s an unoc-c-cupied one?”

Geralt led Roach into the protection the cave’s narrow opening offered, checking the ground just beyond there for any recent markings. Theirs were the only tracks leading in or out of the cave, and that meant exactly nothing with this type of wind.

He checks deeper into the cave and finds nothing but dried brush blown in form years past and old, old bones. He comes back to a shivering bard and the beginnings of a puddle from where Roach shook off snow.

“Hmm.”

“Oh th-thank f-fuck.”

Geralt humms again and heads back out into the blistering cold and wind, heading further into the scrub and trees in a hunt for wood that should still be fairly dry—there was snow, yes, but with the sudden cold snap he’s hoping there’ll be enough just encrusted with snow that they can get a decent fire started.

He brings back what he finds that’s dry, nodding when he finds that Jaskier’s already looked after Roach, her things laid out over one of the rocks, her coat tended to, and sets his pile down next to where Jaskier is setting up rocks for a pit. Heads back out for more wood to put in a pile to dry out.

By the time he’s done Jaskier is still shivering, but has managed to coax a fire into existence; Geralt sees a pile of the dry brush from further in the cave in a heap to the side, more tinder should the fire get low.

They divide preparing the rabbits and cooking in relative silence, Jaskier’s shivering abating to a fine tremor. It’s never completely silent around Jaskier; even now the bard was peering at where he had set his lute, case protecting the instrument form the cold and damp. He’s humming, low and melodious, and every time he glances to his lute he’s flexing his too-pale fingers, and then putting them closer to the fire. Geralt doesn’t recognize the tune. They eat in that same relative silence, colour returning to the bards cheeks… the shivering doesn’t go away.

“Take off your jacket.”

“T-that—oh.”

Jaskier had looked up with a frown that cleared at the sight of Geralt pulling open his own jacket, undoing the ties. Jaskiers hands are still stiff even after the warm meal and the fire, so in the time it takes him to wrestle off his jacket Geralt has his open and has moved to open his bedroll close to the fire. Has pulled both their blankets nearby.

When Jaskier finally frees his last arm from the damp clutch of his sleeve, he seems surprised when Geralt plucks it from his hands, draping it over one of the rocks near the fire.

“D-d-damn it Geralt h-humans need a b-bit more than th-that… w-what are you d-doing?”

It takes very little effort to pull the shivering bard down into his lap and arranging stiff limbs to his satisfaction—tucking his arms into the warm cocoon within his jacket, and using one hand to pull that hunched back into his chest. Geralt arranged the blankets around them and over Jaskiers legs until just his feet were out, propped next to the fire, and pulled the rest around them into a barrier against the cold.

Having access to warmth seems to make Jaskiers shivering worse, chattering teeth just a mess of sound rather than any words Geralt could actually pick out. He hummed in response anyway, and that seemed to satisfy the bard that he was heard enough to settle down in Geralts lap.

That didn’t stop the humming from coming back—Geralts sigh at the sound only has Jaskier wiggling back even further, tilting and turning his head until it was pressed back to Geralts shoulder, and Jaskier was pressing a cold nose to his jaw. The humming was clearer, louder, and Geralt could feel a smile pressed against his neck.

He adjusts how Jaskier is sitting and happens to give him a squeeze, coincidentally pushing all the air from him and halting the noise, if only temporarily—when it starts up again it sounds distinctly fond pressed up against his skin.

The things he does for his bard.

X

Geralt has slipped into a meditative state by the time he realizes that the humming has petered out into even breathing, Jaskier having curled further in his embrace, face tucked into the hollow of his throat.

He’s been adding to the fire as needed, an ear to the howl of the wind—listening for the howl of anything else on the wind.

He’s not looking forward to hearing about a cricked neck from Jaskier however, and makes the decision to shift him; using one arm to prop him and the other to swing his legs first to the side, and then further manoeuvring him around…

Once the hard part is done, Jaskier adjusts himself well enough, tucking his face back into Geralts neck with a sigh, arms going around him and hands up his shirt to press against his warm back. It takes a bit of shuffling but the Bard settles more into his lap, seemingly happy enough to wrap his legs around behind him. Geralt readjusts the blankets to be sure that Jaskier is entirely covered in this new position straddling his lap, and settles back down to monitor the fire.

This new position means that along with not kinking Jaskiers neck, with them belly to belly like this it should keep Jaskiers neck, belly, and groin warm enough to not be damaged by the cold. In the morning he’d leave him on the bedroll to see if he couldn’t find more wood and possibly hunt something else to tide them through until the storm has fully passed. Until then he’d enjoy the rare quiet, arms holding his bard close.

[hecohansen31]

The Magic Words Is:

F&R! Michael Langdon+Inscure! Reader

(A/N): Hello there, lovely!

This suckety suck...

But also I don’t like keeping my things to myself and also... honestly... you have read worse from me, so...

This came up when I was talking with @blakewaterxx and she jokingly said, after I apologized a few too many times that if I kept doing that she would make Michael punish me... and I took it a bit more seriously than I should have... 

So here comes this...

Have fun reading it!

Let me know what you think, and I also let’s hope this doesn’t die as my all my fics lately... I am just too done to deal with that right noq!

WARNINGS: Dom-Sub Relationship, Spanking, Punishment, Sexual Themes, Mention of Sexual SItuations, Nudity, Mention of Self-Harm.

It wasn’t that Michael despised that you had this kind of gentleness and frailty to you.

No, he actually enjoyed it.

But he couldn’t tolerate anybody else taking advantage of it.

Aside him, obviously.

It was mostly because it would show some kind of emotion he had defined as weak since it would show your submission to someone else…

… that wasn’t him.

That morning: Jeff and Mutt had tormented you for the entire morning under Michael’s attentive gaze, and although he had wanted to intervene, he couldn’t do much, mostly because you personally didn’t want him to intervene in your work life, but also because he had wanted to see how far this would all go.

To see if you would fight them back.

Through the entire morning you had bended yourself to Jeff and Mutt’s will, the two cokeheads taking extreme advantage of your willingness to please, till it brought you over to the edge of a big psychotic attack, since their coke-burned brain thought that you could much more than it was humanly possible.

But you instead of shutting them off or fighting them off… you had continued on undergoing their humiliations, but worse of all, apologizing for any mistake they made you notice, although half the time it wasn’t your fault, and the other half… you didn’t do it on purpose.

He hated whenever you would apologize with no reason for it.

He desperately had tried to force that attitude away from you, in a calm way, simply trying to make you notice the error of your way, but apparently it wasn’t enough.

He had to use something that would get into your little insecure mind.

He had called you after lunch, making sure that the two cokeheads watched as his arrival accidentally burned their newest stash of purest coke and he made no secret of his link to you.

You never wanted to let your relationship be out in public, so this was a big no against all your rules.

“It wouldn’t be professional” you chanted gently, whenever the argument would be brought up, as he looked at you confused, mostly because he knew how much you liked being taken over the desk at work, but he didn’t dare intervene on such things, preferring to leave you the control of it.

But he had had enough, today.

“Mr Langdon, what did you need me for?” your eyes shone already bright as you closed the door behind you and he settled on his work-chair, preparing yourself to a session of hard sex, knowing all too well that Michael was a man that liked to be pleased at his own orders and commands and who requested extreme discipline.

“(Y/N)” but something broke your mental scenario as you heard him calling you like that.

You usually roleplayed since it was a kink you both shared, mostly if something was going down in the office, but whenever he called by your name not only it meant he wasn’t in the mood to play, but he wanted the true “(Y/N)”, not some doe-eyed and sex-starved secretary as in your shared fantasies.

It also, most of the time, meant trouble.

“Michael” you knew better than to answer with anything other than his name, since it shared some kind of deep intimacy Michael ached for, more than the sex and the thrill.

“… you do realize what you did today, don’t you?”.

You actually didn’t but you also knew that if Michael was using that tone you had done something bad for sure so there was no use in pretending.

“I don’t know, sir, but I am sure that it was something bad” because whenever you were Michael’s “good girl” he wouldn’t have that flaming look.

“Then why don’t we go over your morning?” he replied, mentioning for you to sit onto his lap, something that made you huff a breath of relief, although you knew it wasn’t over.

But the fact that you were allowed to touch Michael was something that made you truly happy, and wouldn’t always be allowed during your punishments, making everything even more hurtful.

“… I came in early as always…” mostly because it would be just you and Michael and more time than not, before he had to give an important discourse, he would love to have a quickie with you, so you had to be there for him… or you might get punished.

(One time you hadn’t been able to come at work because of a terrible stomach flu and hadn’t even been able to raise from the bed to tell the Cooperative that you would be taking a sick day and Michael had strangely surprised you to your apartment.

You had half-expected him to want sex or anything, but he had just explained to you all the research he had done on how to cure stomach flu, parading yourself with an entire pharmacy, and asking whether you felt up to eat something so that he could order someone to cook it for you.

You had tried to excuse your terrible state, but Michael had ignored all your “sorry”s and just pushed you again in bed, gently pushing away your sweat-filled hair from your forehead, meanwhile he cooed you to sleep and relax).

And from that memory you realized what you had done wrong.

“…is this because I said ‘sorry’ too many times?” because Michael had shushed you every time it would happen, mostly when it was about things you couldn’t control, like Jeff and Mutt’s stupidity.

He smirked, but his smile was in no way reassuring.

“Oh, don’t I have a smart girl on my lap?” he praised you and gently leaned down to kiss you, his hand securely lacing though your hair pulling on them lightly, but enough to make you moan in his mouth “… then you’ll know what you get for this”.

You nodded, already trying to make your way to his laps, in order to lay with your tummy flat against his them, but he kept his hold onto your hair tight, keeping you in place.

“… but first I need you to tell me what you did wrong and why it is so wrong”.

His tone was extremely honeyed, and he made sure to look at you in the eyes, another technique that you couldn’t stand, since when he had first met you, you would barely be able to hold his gaze, and although it still embarrassed you, mostly during sex, you had gotten better.

And Michael didn’t mind the little blush on your cheeks.

He actually cherished it.

“I showed no concern for my own physical and mental health, letting those two idiots…” Michael’s grin grew bigger, since before him you wouldn’t have even brought yourself to think even something remotely wrong about your colleagues, but he had influenced you, in some way…

… well it truly showed that he could corrupt even the purest of souls.

“Continue, (Y/N)”.

You trembled at the mention of your name, and he gently pushed a kiss onto your forehead: the stillness in his movement acting as some kind of calm before the storm.

“… and I let them bully me, and most importantly I acted as if it was my fault for every mistake they had done, hence apologizing uselessly and degrading myself to a position that doesn’t belong to me”.

“What is your natural position, lovely?” he asked and grabbed strongly onto your chin, making you face him, feeling the slight warmth of your heated cheeks.

“By your side, on your lap or down on my knees…” you replied, without thinking, something that pleased Michael to his oblivion, since he was rather glad that his pet knew her place “… solely belonging to you”.

“That is a good answer, sweetheart” he mumbled, but his gaze didn’t show any kind of mercy and he didn’t help you in the slightest as you pushed yourself to face the desk, moving your body so that your arms could rest onto it, meanwhile you moved away from Michael’s lap, pushing your toes to meet the ground and stay there.

Then your spread your thighs, although you didn’t dare to remove your skirt.

It was a frilly thing that Michael had gotten you for a day-event you had attended with him.

He hadn’t minded too much about the design or the price the most important thing to him was the easy access of the entire thing, barely needing for Michael to raise it and push your underwear apart to enter you.

…had you worn panties.

Which didn’t happen today.

Michael snickered at your improper condition and gently mouthed a small kiss onto your shoulder, over the silky fabric of your blouse, and then he blew some soothing air in your ear, making you shiver, the perfect occasion for him to remind you to stay still.

“I’ll need you to count…” he whispered in your ear, gently palming your perfect ass, a little lighter than the rest of your body, almost as a proof of your innocence, which he couldn’t wait to taint “… or I’ll lose the count and end up being a bit too rough, understood, lovely?”.

You nodded, but to Michael it wasn’t enough and pulled again on your hair.

“… yes, sir” you mumbled, and he welcomed your obedience with a caress on your lower back, which, although had some kind of calming effect, it didn’t make you less aware of what was going to happen.

“They’ll be fifteen slaps” he explained to you, meanwhile he got the skirt completely out of the way and you gripped onto the edge of his desk “… one for each time you said ‘sorry’, today“.

You rolled your eyes (you were almost thankful that he couldn’t see your face) at the thought that he had actually counted them.

You knew it pissed him off, but you didn’t expect him to get this serious about it, although it all worked in your favor, seeing as you could already feel wetness between your thighs and arousal pool in your stomach, making you quite excited.

You already knew it would have been a tough session, it always happened when you weren’t roleplaying.

But you were ready for it.

You almost ached for it.

“Understood, sir”.

The first slap was always the hardest one, and not because Michael could be vicious, but more because of the surprise effect it always had, not matter the fact that you knew it would be coming.

You swallowed and Michael hung his hand back, waiting for your response which came in a low squeal, mumbling “one” and a “thank you, sir”.

He smirked satisfied and leaned closer to you, who immediately shifted lightly away from him, again for the surprise and anxiety than for the actual hurt, which was soothed by his big hand, gently palming it.

“Good girl…” he mumbled in your ear, before he laid there a kiss, his hair tickling your shoulder.

The praise and the tickling sensation made you giggle, but another slap shushed you, pushing you further away on the desk.

The came an another.

And a fourth one.

Fifth and sixth where were you got used to the feeling, the constant burn of your ass, dulling a bit the following hits, meanwhile wetness kept on dribbling from your cunt

As you went to reach your tenth slap, you were lightly overwhelmed, since Michael had slapped your cunt instead of your ass, on the previous, making you yelp at the pleasurable pain and you were sure that one of your manicured nail had etched itself on his desk, at the sudden wave of pleasure.

You tried to calm your breath but the tenth was too sudden, again hitting your clit and setting it on fire and you screamed more out of instinct than actual thought:

“Yellow”.

Yellow was the color to make Michael slow down and he did, gently pushing himself away from you, meanwhile you took some deep breaths, trying to shift away your focus from your cunt and ass, both aching, but for different reason, hence making you even more confused and overwhelmed.

Michael brushed some strands of hair away from your face and solely in that moment you realized they were drenched with sweat, and your bottom lip being not only swollen from your compulsive biting, but also wet due to the saliva that had gotten on it.

“Was it too much” he asked, trying to keep his tone even and neutral.

He wanted to seem distanced, as he always did when you would either say your safe-word.

He thought that he could pretend he didn’t care, but you knew all too well he did.

He would hug you a bit too tight after those session, worried that you might run away.

“No, I just need a breather” you commented as soon as you regained your voice, calming yourself from the messy sensations going through your body, trying to focus on regaining control over it, meanwhile Michael gently caressed your back.

“I am ok, you can start again, sir” you commented once you felt comfortable again, gently setting down so that you wouldn’t get stabbed in the stomach by Michael’s laptop onto the desk.

He set himself up behind you, again, but before he went on to carry on the rest of the punishment he pulled you against him and not only you felt his breath against your ear, but you understood that you weren’t the only one affected by this situation, feeling him gently press his hard length against you.

“Do I have to avoid something, (YN)?” again your name meant that he was serious, and you just shook your head, but Michael needed again vocal confirmation.

“No, I am fine” and when he searched your eyes, you added “... seriously”.

At the start of your relationship you had used the harsh sex and the punishments as a way to cope with some awful things that had been going through you, hence it had been extremely painful for you, enough that although you should have safe-worded, you hadn’t.

This had reached a point that broke you internally, and Michael had known it…

… and he had brought you back from it.

He knew that he was supposed to be happy of your broken and corrupted soul, but he had realized that you didn’t deserve it.

And that was the moment he had realized that he loved you.

And would cherish you and protect you to the end of the world.

“… then you have five more, don’t you”.

You nodded your head eagerly, opening your mouth to answer him and he made you close it with a harsh slap, although he avoided your cunt this time, hitting the fullness of your blossom, so the hit was less painful.

The twelfth wasn’t, since he hit were the skin was more red and hurt, and you were sure that his handprint would already show on your ass and they would remain for even the following day.

You didn’t mind it.

The thirteenth was also strong and the fourteenth was slowed only by Michael’s own hand hurting, and it stilled on your ass, slowly moving to cup your cunt, making you gasp lowly and you closed your eyes at the sudden sensation of pleasure, already ready for the fifteenth slap to end this torment.

Would you have to beg Michael for the sweet release, or would he have given it to you as a reward?

“Sometimes I wonder whether I am truly punishing or indulging your little flaws” he mumbled, against your ear.

You could feel his hand being left in the air, halfway through meeting your ass, and you closed your eyes, squeezing them together, already ready for the pain.

But the fifteenth slap was a simple pat on your ass.

Which didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt, since your ass was irritated and swollen, but wasn’t what you expected, showing you a softness which was unusual with Michael, but you knew he held just for you.

It was what had brought you back after you had been thoroughly broken.

Michael wasn’t careful with you as a china-doll but he surely knew better than you your body.

“… but I also can’t deny that this has some kind of allure to me too” he said as he cupped your cunt and collected some wetness from there, swiftly turning you around and pushing you onto the desk, his laptop effectively burying and marking your back, but you didn’t care.

Not as Michael tasted you as if you were his favorite meal, gently swirling his tongue around his finger in a show of tongue that almost got impressed in your mind, and made you ignore his question.

This time a light tap was delivered to your thigh making you bite down onto your tongue and Michael sent you a harsh glare, although he did repeat what he asked of you.

“Why did I punish you pet?”.

“Because I put my health to risk, undervaluing myself” you knew it.

It was hard to fight that sense when you just felt so damn insecure all the time.

But slowly Michael was making it all better.

“It wasn’t you who was bad, was it?” he mumbled, gently pushing his fingers away from your thighs, moving onto your inner thighs, meanwhile he came closer enveloping you gently, being careful to avoid brushing your ass.

“No, it wasn’t me who was bad, it was my actions that were bad”.

“… and bad actions always have consequences” he finished softly, before he suddenly sank to his knees, between your thighs, a truly magical sight “… but good ones do also have some consequences. Are you ready pet for your reward?”.

Well this time, all you could say was “thank you”.

---

Tagging some of the few that are on my taglist:

@blakewaterxx @emmyrosee @1-800-bitchcraft @rocketgirl2410 @ladynuwanda @frenchbread4ever @lovelylangdonx @kaetastic @lathraios @rosegoldrichie

[scapegrace74-blog]

Saorsa, Chapter 25

A/N  Here is the next installment of Saorsa.  Comfortably ensconced in married life, Jamie and Claire settle down into married bliss at Lally...., no wait.  Wrong story.  Let’s call this one, working out the kinks, Saorsa-style.   With another cameo from my family (see the end for details). 

Rather than link to all previously posted chapters, I’ll just direct those of you wanting to catch up on your Saorsa-reading to my AO3 page, where the fic is posted in its entirety.

Thank you to each of you liking and reblogging!  It does my little fanfic writer’s heart good.

Their return to Lallybroch should have marked the beginning of marital bliss for Jamie and Claire.   There were certainly moments of pleasure: sharing quiet laughter at the supper table; listening to early spring rains flood the courtyard while sitting in front of the fire; and tentative journeys across the newly claimed territories of their bodies in the enormous laird’s bed each night.  Having nothing but the most elementary knowledge of sex prior to his marriage, Jamie was astounded at the array of physical satisfaction that they were discovering together.  It was fast becoming something of an obsession.

But for each moment of harmony, there was one of dissonance.  Raised as he was in a time of male pre-eminence, he regularly ran afoul of his new wife’s strong opinions and lack of docility.  She simply refused to accept his direction on even the most mundane decisions without questioning it first.   In one minor example, the topic of lambing season had arisen the previous afternoon.

“Last year Murtagh hired a half dozen boys from the village as shepherds to watch over the ewes,” Claire insisted, hands deep in a ball of bread dough.

“Aye, and ‘alf of those lads are in the trenches now.  Rupert kens a man wi’ a fine Collie bitch.  If we take a litter o’ pups now, I could ‘ave ‘em ready tae watch o’er the ewes by April.”  He dipped a finger into a pot of onion broth and tasted it with trepidation.   Claire was many things, but a fine cook was not one of them.   Cook was suffering a spell of gout and had been sent home to rest, so his wife was preparing the midday meal for the labourers.

“And then we’d have even more mouths to feed.  Really, Jamie.  Stop that!”  Claire smacked his hand as he tried to grab some chopped carrots from the counter beside her.

“I’m ‘ungry, Sassenach.  Squabblin’ wi’ ye makes me peckish.  Mayhap ye could offer me somethin’ else tae nibble at,” he murmured as he lifted her curls and set his teeth gently into the cords of her elegant neck.

“Imagine how we’d economize on provisions, if you saw fit to agree with me more often,” Claire retorted, stepping away from his curious mouth.  The apples of her cheeks were plumped, and he knew she was struggling not to smile.

“T’would no’ be worth it.”  He placed one last sloppy kiss on her jaw and left the kitchen before she could reply.

**

When Claire descended the stairs later that week, Jamie lay in front of the hearth, slowly being smothered by four wiggling four-legged bodies.  She looked stern, but couldn’t resist a grin as the imposing, once-ravaged body of her Highland warrior emitted a childish giggle when one pup attacked his chin with an enthusiastic pink tongue.

“I see we are now dog owners,” she commented as she eased her increasingly awkward weight into an armchair.

“Aye.  Angus brought ‘em o’er this mornin’.”  He pushed the puppies gently to the floor and rose to his feet, brushing stray hairs from his sweater.

“We never agreed to this scheme of yours, you know.”

Jamie was concentrating on not stepping on a paw or tail, but he knew exactly what he’d see if he glanced in Claire’s direction.  She had a particular expression that blended mild exasperation and the match-strike flare of defiance.  It annoyed and aroused him in equal measures.

“Nae, we did no’.  I dinna see why ye’er fightin’ me on this, Sassenach.  Lallybroch needs sheep tae survive, an’ sheep need a sheepdog tae protect ‘em.”

“Protect them from what, exactly?”

He let his tone slip towards condescension.  “From wolves, Claire.”

She sighed, glancing towards the kitchen to make certain they weren’t overheard.

“There haven’t been wolves in the British Isles since the eighteenth century, Jamie.   Last spring, we lost twenty lambs.   Two to an owl or eagle, and the rest to the local populace, who are starving and desperate.   I hope your dogs are quick with a rifle.”

She left him then, standing in the great hall covered in puppy fur and chagrin.

**

He woke to the sound of sleet hitting the north-facing window.   The fire smoldered in its grate and the Claire-shaped indentation on the sheets was cool to the touch.   He grabbed his bedrobe and followed the sound of excited yipping down the stairs.

His wife sat near the fire, the sphere of her swollen belly draped in a white linen nightshift.  She had spread an old stable blanket in front of the hearth, and it was currently occupied by four puppies and a pork hock that had been destined for tomorrow’s soup.

He stood beside her, letting his fingers tangle through the havoc of her unbound hair, glistening with raindrops.

“I couldn’t leave them in the stables when it’s so cold outside,” she confessed.

He could have insisted that the dogs were in the stables to ensure their protective instincts attached to the animal inhabitants of Lallybroch, not the human ones.  Or that Collies were bred with a thick undercoat to withstand Scottish winters.  Or still yet that the dogs were not pets, but labourers on the estate.  And according to Claire, unwelcome ones at that.

Instead he chuckled as the sharp teeth of the largest pup, a dominant male, accidentally bit into the tail of his smaller sister instead of the soup bone.  A sharp growl and bared teeth sent him cowering to the far corner of the blanket.

“Fionnghal may be wee, but she puts Rufus in his place,” he commented.

“You named them?” Claire asked, startled.

“Aye.  Rufus is a big ginger, like me, ye ken.  The lad wi’ the black mask is Macdui, after the mountain.  Fionnghal is a proper lady’s name. Fiona, ye would say, and I’ve been callin’ the roan one Cameron after a cousin on my Da’s side who….”

His wife extended her hand, silently asking for his help to stand.  He wasn’t finished talking, but the way she was pulling him back upstairs towards their bedchamber was an opening statement in an ongoing conversation he found infinitely more appealing.

***

Endnote: This is Fionnghal (aka Windy).  I grew up on a small farm where we always had one Rough Collie as our ‘outdoor’ dog.  We didn’t have sheep, but the collies didn’t mind.  They’d herd anything: cows, horses, the neighbour’s chickens, small children.  That herding instinct is strong.  Her second ear never did tip, which gave her a madcap look that was pretty fitting.

[void-knights]

It isn't fair: Chapter One

Square Filled: Bed Sharing Pairing: Loki / Original Male Character, Tags: Sharing a Bed, One-Sided Attraction, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Asgardian politics, Magic, Slight magic kink, Einherjar, Bisexual Loki, Pansexual OMC, Pre-Thor AU Summary: Forced to share a bed with Loki during an investigation into a group of raiders Faolán confronts his feelings for Prince Loki.  Word Count: 10,358 Written/Created for @lokibingo

AO3 Link

A/N: I uh... went to far with this one, when I have time I might write a sequel I kinda like this one. I only meant to aim around 2000 words. Sorry for it being so long! Tumblr Chapter Masterlist | AO3 Link |

There were seven people, which is why when they were preparing for this adventure Faolán had packed seven tents and seven bedrolls. So it came as a surprise when they came to a stop for the evening that he found three tents and five bedrolls.

He counted them trice to make sure he had not lost his memory or sanity during the last fight against the hydra. No, no there were three tents and five bedrolls.

“There are four tents and two bedrolls missing,” he announced when going over the cart a third time just to make sure. The other Einherjar had all their equipment, so why was this one caravan missing key items?

Sif and Loki were the first to come up to the caravan to check that Faolán hadn’t simply overlooked four tents and two bedrolls. No, he was right they were gone.

“But we have more food than we know what to do with,” Sif said lifting a bundle meats that had been securely packaged to keep them dry and warm but not overcooked.

“And alcohol,” Loki realized lifting a smallish barrel of mead, the trio turned to the other three. Hogun and Fandral stepped away from Thor and Volstagg, of course.

“We can ask the Einherjar to give up a couple of tents and share with their comrades,” Fandral suggested, that seemed an acceptable answer to Thor and the warriors three.

Faolán rolled his eyes, of course they would be  that inconsiderate.

“Brother, you are already dealing with a morale problem amongst the guard do not make the situation worse,” Loki sighed rubbing at his temple, he had been looking forward to a good nights rest.

“I don’t know why you are complaining Loki,” Thor wrinkled his nose, “You should have a tent and bed squirrelled away.”

That was a good point, both Sif and Faolán turned to the younger prince who was not pleased to admit that he assumed that a tent at least would be easy not to lose so no, he had not packed one in his pocket dimension.

“Yet you packed a more than one cape?” Sif asked him, the fresh cape had become muddy as well but at least this one was not weighed down like Thor’s.

Faolán hopped off the back of the caravan, “Then there is only one solution,” He announced to the group, cursing his luck for having selected for escorting the royal party.

Sif quickly caught on, “I am the only woman here, I am not sharing with anyone,” She put her foot down. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her friends, it was that she just did not want to share with any of them, previous experiences had left lasting impressions.

“If Prince Loki-” Faolán began but of course Loki had issues with the idea that he’d not even been allowed to finish.

“I am not shapeshifting into my female form just to appease Lady Sif,” Loki barked, oddly touched that Faolán would even suggest such a thing. Usually warriors would rather not remember that Loki shifted between whatever gender and sex he wanted whenever the mood struck. Besides, Sif had her own terrible sleeping habits.

A round of arguments that lasted an hour, (enough time for Faolán to cook, be mocked by his fellow einherjar when he escaped for a reprieve and clean his armour and weapons,) ended with Hogun suggested the democratic process of drawing out rune stones from a bag.

“If your stone matches you share a tent,” the usually silent man said holding out a brown leather bag.

“There are three tents,” Fandral quickly pointed out, as though they had all suddenly forgotten the issue at hand.

“Three tents, three matching sets of stones, two Halaz, two Sowilō, three Laguz,” Hogun announced.

Meaning that two tents would be divided amongst four people while one tent would be shared between three people.

Thor and Loki went first, Thor drew Laguz much to his annoyance while Loki drew Halaz, Sif and Volstagg went next both drew Sowilō, Faolán dipped his hand in and pulled out the matching Halaz leaving Fandral and Hogun with Laguz and Thor.

“Best two out of three?” Fandral hoped.

Faolán being cursed with a rather soft heart almost agreed to the idea, until the younger prince grabbed his blue cloak and pulled the Asgardian warrior away from the Vanir.

Sif had to agree of the bunch Volstagg was the better draw.

Though she  may have preferred Thor to herself and Volstagg being the largest of them meant less space for her she was simply grateful not to have Fandral with his roaming hands and quips, Or Hogun and his tense silence, or Loki and his constant need to pamper himself.

Loki knew this, that is why he had charmed the bag, Volstagg being married with a dozen children was the safest draw for Sif who would embarrass herself should she be partnered with Thor. Hogun was much too grim for the younger prince, he would be the perfect counter to Fandral and Thor who tended to be inconsiderate bedmates.

Faolán was the wild card, polite and respectful of status and boundaries he had shown himself to be kind and considerate to those around him. Loki settled on him.

“The next time we pass a town or village we should try to resolve this shortage issue,” Faolán wisely suggested much to the agreement of everyone else.

“But that still leaves us two bedrolls short,” Volstagg said, Sif was quick to claim herself one and Volstagg a second, leaving three bedrolls.

“I can sleep on the ground,” Faolán offered, leaving the other four to squabble amongst themselves over who should have a bedroll, he did not want to get in between two princes and two Vanir Lords.

It was safer to just put up with not having a bed for the night, even if it was chilly and the ground was hard with the days frost.

With a resound sigh he set to work putting up the tent making sure that everything was safe and secure, meanwhile in the background Thor and Loki were shouting at each other with increasing volume. The  one benefit of travelling with the royal party meant that he could at least sleep on the ground in a luxurious tent.

The tents the Einherjar were provided weren’t always the best, some had been used so many times they had developed holes and patches that never seemed to dry. This tent was new, he could tell, it was large to, big enough outmatch the size of his room in the barracks.

Rubbing at the back of his neck (as best he could in full plate armour) Faolán sighed heavily, this was going to be long night. It wasn’t going to be easy sharing with the younger prince, he had admired Loki for so long that he was sure his smallish attraction boarded on a little obsessive at times.

It was best to just ignore what was happening tonight and hope the next town had tents for purchase. Removing his helmet he set it aside in one corner. Just as he began removing the rest of of his plate armour Loki marched into the tent looking annoyed.

He had managed to claim a single bedroll for himself, he glanced around the space provided annoyed, “Remind me to construct a tent when we return to the palace,” he snapped tossing the bedroll onto the ground.

“Yes sir,” Faolán said clearly as training demanded, he kept his back to the prince afraid of what he may or may not see as he stripped off his vambraces. He could sleep in his under armour, the cloth and leather would protect him against the cold.

As quickly and quietly as he could he arranged his armour in a manner that would not take up to much space. Perhaps he should have wished to have drawn Lady Sif instead, at least they were of equal social standing.

Settling himself on the covered ground Faolán could feel the cold of the frost outside seep into the fabric that acted as their floor. He shook off that chill as best he could by using his cloak to create a thin barrier between himself and the ground.

He had slept in worse conditions, heats that bordered on torture, bogs that stank with decay, this was nothing. Or it would be nothing if Prince Loki wasn’t sat on his bedroll studying Faolán who was starting to itch at the attention. Nervously so not to appear concerned he turned to the prince who rather than look away like most would narrowed his eyes at Faolán.

“Is there something wrong my prince?” He asked nervous that somehow he had managed to offend Loki without trying.

Thin lips pressed into an even thinner line, as though there was something on Loki’s mind though he did not know how to say it. Rather unusual for the silver tongued prince who could talk himself out of a room with no doors or windows.

He really was quite lovely to look at, Faolán realizing he was staring turned his focus to the tent’s roof, outside Thor and his friends were squabbling about something that didn’t seem all that important. He closed his eyes hoping to shut out that feeling of Loki’s continued staring.

Thankfully the prince put out the lamps, with a flick of his wrist the lights died down and soon he settled down into his bedroll. Easy. Simple. That was that.

Faolán shivered. The night was long and the winter never waned in its desire to see him chilled to the bone.

The next morning Faolán woke with an ache that had settled deep into his bones, as though rime itself covered them. He shivered while Prince Loki stretched himself looking rather refreshed and ready to face the day.

Back in his armour they set off towards the next town, they would need to investigate the town before moving on, which gave them time to look around for an extra tent or bedroll at least.

Sadly the moment they entered the farming town Faolán had a feeling deep in his bones that they would not find what they needed, his fears were confirmed when the warriors three and Sif failed to anyone. What did they expect when coming to this small farming town?

While investigating with his fellow Einherjar Faolán tried to shake off the cold that had settled within him, “Why are you shaking like that?” a guard asked him.

“Prince Thor and his Vanir companions thought it would be good idea to pack more food and mead, they made space by discarding two bedrolls and three four tents,” Faolán complained shivering inside his armour.

Somehow even the sun was cold.

He caught up with the royal party in a tavern when the sun had long since set, why did they pack the additional food and drink if they could have stopped at a tavern? He tried not to be bitter as the rest of the party enjoyed themselves, he focused on warming himself up.

It felt as though a jötunn had managed to push ice into his body leaving him brittle and cursed never to feel the warmth of fire or sun again. Steadying his grip upon his mead he tried to ignore the pang of pain as the cold beverage hit him, even the warmth of the food – as basic as it was, it was filling – did not do a good enough job.

“You would think the locals would be honoured to give their beds to their princes!” Thor complained loudly.

Much to his chagrin Loki reminded his brother that this was supposed to be a show that the royal house cared about the people. He was not boosting confidence nor morale by shouting such complaints to a small town that had given them hospitality.

Thor stopped complaining about  that at least and instead turned his attentions to their lack of progress in this investigation. As the conversation around the table grew more heavy Faolán listened, fascinated, it was less a discussion and more of a debate.

In an attempt to still his shaking hands Faolán clasped them together, he could not recall the last time he had been so cold. When the option presented itself he went to the bar to request more drinks, the others were relieved not to have to go.

He was simply relieved not to have to spend too much time around them as their discussion delved into bickering and debates over which bar maid Fandral and Thor were eyeing up. Of course many of the maids had their eye on the older prince and dashing Vanir.

“What’ll it be love?” The woman behind the bar, a much older woman with greying red hair and a sunny but dangerous grin greeted him.

“The royal table is requesting refills, two pitchers of mead,” Faolán said rubbing his hands together.

The woman studied his hands as she had someone else fulfil the order, making sure to add a third pitcher for good measure. “You seem a tad cold lad, the others have not shared the same fate as you.”

“I am fine,” Faolán lied.

“Hm,” The woman was not convinced, “Then you shall have a warm drink and not complain will you?” he wouldn’t, he thanked her after paying for the warmed apple cider complete with spices from Alfheim. “You should watch yourself lad, the rot will set in if you stay cold for to long.”

That was an old wives tale, something shared in ignorance, it was more likely he could curdle milk by staring into the jug.

“Ah, your highness, how may I serve you?” Faolán froze (not literally of course though he still felt frozen) and turned to see Prince Loki stood beside him. How had he not noticed the prince approaching and coming to stand beside him?

“My brother wishes to know if you have more of those… pork things,” he twisted his face into a grimace.

“Ah the pork cracklings yes, I shall have a maid send more to his table,” The woman nodded while Faolán focused on finishing his heated drink.

It had helped, being inside a warm tavern that was packed to the brim with bodies helped as well, but the drink helped chase away some of the internal chill.

The short walk back to the tents undid most of the work, with final security checks completed for the evening Faolán collapsed back onto the ground. He almost wanted to cry at the chill that happily seeped its way back into his bones. There was a moment where he considered donning his armour once again, anything to have additional layers between him and the cold.

Outside the tent several voices were bickering, he recognized most of them, but the ones he did not meant he had to go and investigate. His armour back on he found himself face to face with Prince Thor, the warriors Three and a small group of nervous but furious locals.

Apparently Thor and Fandral had managed to talk a few local girls to returning to their tents, which was not unusual what was unusual was the furious locals. Half a dozen men did not like the idea of their sisters and daughters cavorting with the Prince and Vanir, though they never said it out loud, instead basing it on worried family and friends.

The winter was a dangerous season to be walking about in, Thor and Fandral conceded that perhaps it was best not to further antagonize the locals which meant Faolán was left escorting the towns folk back to their homes to ensure that nothing would befall them.

He could do nothing but offer polite apologizes, though he could not apologize on the princes behalf he could at least try and keep people happy by apologizing. The men sighed, understanding that this was not Faolán’s fault, the women were less pleased about being pushed and pulled about. The distant howl of wolves and the darkness of winter squashed some of those grievances, from a purely practical standpoint it had been rather foolish to sneak off in the dead of winter.

Once the last family were safely escorted back to their warm home Faolán began the long walk to the tents. It was long past any reasonable hour, the moons light dimmed by the cloud and forest cover meant that most of his walk was done in dimmed darkness, the torch he had barely served him.

The rest of the group had retreated into their tents by the time Faolán returned, he considered entering the tent. But then he felt an odd restricting feeling overcome him and settle deep in his gut, he couldn’t just barge in especially if  Prince Loki was sleeping. He would not be proper.

Sitting himself on a nearby rock he huddled in his armour, he had slept through worse, he could manage one more cold night. He would just need to be me much more careful tomorrow.

“What are you doing?” Faolán was either too exhausted, cold or beyond reason, because he did not jump when the voice of Prince Loki sounded behind quietly.

He slid off the boulder he’d found and tried to think up of an excuse, the truth was the best policy with the god of lies. “I did not wish to disturb you, your highness,” He said trying not to shiver when the god narrowed his emerald eyes at him as if seeking out an unspoken truth.

Loki however rolled his eyes, “You warriors,” it sounded like a rebuke, one well-earned given Faolán’s current situation.

He was about to offer some sort of protest when the prince grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him into the tent. It was somehow warmer outside on that boulder than on the cold hard ground, probably because he had been forced to strip out of his armour. This time he used his cloak as a blanket and tried to stave off the chill by curling up into himself.

They should be able to purchase blankets, a rug, something, he would check in on the town come the morning before they had the chance to set off.

“Must you be so stubborn?” Loki demanded causing Faolán to stiffen in fear, now what had he done to offend the prince? He tried running through all his thoughts, nothing came to his mind.

Before he could offer up any sort of explanation there was a blanket draped over him, it was surprisingly warm. Within the fibres of the fabric he could feel some sort of energy, the prince must have enchanted the material. He turned around, remembering the prince using this the previous night over his bedroll.

He couldn’t accept the generous gift, he grabbed the blanket and draped it over the confused Prince, confusion gave away to annoyance which turned to resignation. As though he had expected Faolán to reject his offering.

It dawned on Faolán rather quickly, the magic, the enchantment, perhaps that is why the prince thought he was rejecting the gift? So few in the Einherjar were overly comfortable with magic, some would go so far as to reject any sort of magic that could not be contained in a box, bottle, piece of tech or used by a female healer.

“It is a generous gift your highness, but I cannot risk you suffering from the cold,” Faolán responded taking his place back on the floor. He stared at the ceiling hoping sleep would not evade him to long. The blanket had been nice though.

“You are a spectacular kind of idiot aren’t you?” Loki said.

“Well if I must be an idiot I’m glad I’m a shining beacon of idiocy,” Faolán muttered without thinking. He clamped his mouth shut, keenly aware of the odd silence that filled the tent.

“I did not say shining beacon, merely that as idiots go, you are by far the most stubborn I have met,” The prince retorted.

The cold must have affected his brain because why else would Faolán respond, “But you  did call me outstanding.”

“Fool,” Loki snapped tossing the blanket back at Faolán, “If you die of rime rot do not curse me in Valhalla.”

“Should I return as a draugr and curse you that way, your highness?” yep, the frost had damaged him.

“Do not jest about such things,” Loki huffed before shivering and returning to his bedroll. Faolán knew from experience that bedrolls did a good job at keeping people warm, but this cold was not something one usually camped in. Kneeling beside the prince he once again returned the blanket to Loki who stared at him.

“The gesture is appreciated my prince,” Faolán said, “But your health and safety are far more important,” he added but that did not stop Loki from staring at Faolán from within his bedroll, he did not dare say how adorable he looked wrapped up like that.

Loki wanted to club some sense into the foolish solider, instead he grabbed the man and pulled him down before he could protest. Faolán was an asgardian male was strong, Loki as a god was stronger, somehow Faolán ended up wrangled onto the bedroll which had been spread out on the ground and beneath the blanket.

“Move and I shall have you executed,” The prince threatened Faolán who was deeply grateful he was face down on the upper half of the spread out bedroll. Loki could not see him blushing. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes sir,” Faolán said his voice muffled but at least Loki could understand what he had said.

His body warmed beneath the enchanted blanket, with warm layers between himself and the floor of the tent it helped chase away the chill that had infested his bones. Still, he shivered as his body slowly warmed itself.

Once he thought it was safe he chanced a peak at the prince, who of course was awake and glanced at Faolán at that exact moment. He didn’t know how to respond to that, still aware that he was blushing he tried to bury his face once again.

He could hear the rumbling from the prince before he broke out into a quiet laughter, “Does this offend your masculine pride solider?” he mocked.

That was a rather loaded question coming from the younger prince.

It was no secret that he was openly mocked and teased for his abilities, both magical and shapeshifting. He was not as… well he did not live up the perfect ideal of a warrior, the slender sorcerer-warrior was someone a warrior like Faolán should not admire, let alone have an attraction towards.

To have an interest in another man like that would open Faolán up to the same mockery. It was rather fortunate that he was also attracted to women, he could not imagine how other soldiers might suffer under the pressure of only being attracted to men.

“I would rather think I should be offended at myself, had I been a better solider I might have found a way to counter your ambush,” Faolán replied as he shifted onto his back, an ache settled itself in his body as it warmed, it was not completely unpleasant.

Loki’s lips twisted into something that could almost be amusement, “A cautious response,” he replied, “Perhaps you are not as foolish as I thought you to be.”

“Oh, I’m sure the opportunity for me to make a fool of myself will present itself before long, your highness,” Faolán answered politely.

To his surprise Loki laughed, a genuine sort of laugh causing the prince to light up in amusement and Faolán to stare. He was rather attractive when he laughed, the skin around his eyes crinkled, his eyes lit up brighter than ever, that hostile air seemed to vanish as something warmer settled within the prince.

He was never prepared for how beautiful the prince was, Faolán shifted pleased with himself for causing Loki to laugh but uncomfortable with how his dick  now  decided to make itself known within his trousers. The cold would prevent this sort of issue.

It would sort itself out before long, he just needed to keep thinking of unpleasant thing, being stuck in freezing mud, the smell of pigs left out in the sun, taxes, that sort of thing.

 Waking up warm and refreshed was a nice change from cold and stiff, only he suddenly became very aware of the body pressed up against his back and the arms around his waist. Faolán could not move, his legs were tangled up in the princes.

Already his mind was racing with a thousand possibilities and none of them matched his fantasies, instead all he could worry about was whether the prince would be angry. This was a dire breach of protocol. He could think of a dozen legitimate reasons that the prince could use to have him reprimanded, expelled from the guard or worse.

To many fears ran through him until Loki said, “You began to shiver in your sleep, this was the best way to keep you warm,” Loki’s breath was warm against the back of his neck.

Norns  , he couldn't blame his dick for stirring  this time  he just wished it didn’t, this was not the ideal time or place.

Suppressing his nerves as best he could Faolán responded, “Thank you, but you needn’t have gone to such trouble for me,” even to his own ears it sounded odd. Why would anyone say such a thing?

Thankfully any weirdness (of which there was plenty) vanished the moment a loud scuffle and shouting erupted outside the tents.

It turned out to be Thor and his friends all fighting over the last of the provisions. Which seemed odd to Faolán as the only reason they were sharing tents and beds in the first place was because the older prince and his friends had replaced the necessities with additional food and drink supplies.

“Even Volstagg could not have consumed our stocks overnight,” Loki pointed out inspecting the area, Faolán squatted down to pick up the remains of the cloth sacks, they had been shredded.

“Wild boar,” Faolán said indicating to the tracks not that the rest of the group cared to see, instead they would rather fight amongst themselves.

“Yes he can resemble a boar at times,” Loki folded his arms across his chest, how was he not cold in so few garments? “Though a boar does possess far more manners than our Vanir.”

“How about I cleave that tongue from your venomous mouth?” Volstagg snarled at Loki, this of course lead to further bickering so Faolán used his common sense and left to procure more supplies, enough to make a decent breakfast at least.

The other Einherjar took pity on him, patting him on the back, this was the reason nobody wanted to be the personal guard and escort of the princes. This is the reason they had to draw lots. Oh, it was easy and a well sought out position once inside the golden city but never outside. Everyone knew that the princes rarely made things easier for themselves let alone their assigned guard. How does someone go about protecting a god who can shapeshift into a fly or one who can fly with a swing of his hammer?

It was only when he began making breakfast did the others cease their arguments, looking at him like he had been the one to steal from them or at least was acting very odd.

“Wild boar that had not been able to hibernate had made off without supplies,” Faolán explained, once again pointing to the tracks this time people took notice, “The additional food stocks must have attracted them.”

“And the cider?” Lady Sif asked.

“Swine in general eat fermented fruits, an apple is an apple regardless of form,” Faolán explained.

“Or my brother decided to drink the last of it the previous evening before drinking at the taverns,” Loki also added.

“That… might be the more plausible answer,” Thor admitted sheepishly.

While the others got themselves cleaned up and dressed Faolán made stew, it was simple but it stuck to the ribs and filled the belly that would keep the party filled and warmed for a while at least. Even if they complained about the basic meal. He had just enough confidence in his cooking skills to offer it up to the others.

Volstagg thanked him with a cheery smile that made him feel better about spending two hours in the cold cooking. Fandral and Thor were to hungover to muster much of anything while Sif, Loki and Hogun offered a polite “Thank You”.

He sat a little distance away from the others annoyed at himself for not securing the caravan better. He should have known better, basic training covered these sorts of incidences. Angrily chewing a carrot he looked over the plans for the next couple of days, more investigations, more travelling between towns and villages and hopefully a return to the city by the end of the month,  if fortune favoured them.

There wasn’t much stew left for Faolán once he had made sure the others got more than enough food to eat, the supplies had been limited after all. Not that the others noticed, not that he wanted them to notice, he could try and procure more rations in the next town or try and hunt a couple of rabbits. The way this group ate they needed all the rations they could get their hands on.

They soon packed up their camp (with help from Loki’s magic) and walked on to the next town. As they walked they went over the findings, well Faolán mostly listened in on the sporadic mentions of their investigation before Prince Thor got bored and started talking about anything else to pass the time.

Chancing glances towards Prince Loki Faolán tried not to attract too much attention to himself as they continued their march. He suspected Loki noticed a couple of times, though he said nothing about it, why would he?

The next town was another dedicated fishing town located on the edge of the realm, complete with market and merchants and freezing cold winds. Shuddering in his armour Faolán cursed the winter gods and the air for being so bloody vicious. Even the full face plate helmet didn’t help, if anything it made things worse thanks to the wind seeping into every available opening.

Meeting up with the other guard Faolán went over their notes, so far the raiders seemed one step ahead, but in this climate that wasn’t to surprising. A small group were easier and faster to move than a large group. His captain asked if he needed to change, give someone else the opportunity to watch the princes and while he was tempted one glance around the tent all but confirmed nobody else wanted his job.

“No sir, I am managing fine,” aside from being hungry, exhausted and once again cold, his Captain nodded and sent Faolán along to rendezvous with the Princes group.

It was a short meeting, dull to the princes, but they at least paid attention and listened to everything the Einherjar had uncovered, they to had made some headway so while the group stopped off at a tavern Faolán relayed this information with his Captain.

“You’re looking exhausted,” His Captain said quietly.

“Can you blame me?” Faolán joked but his Captain was not pleased with this response. An exhausted Einherjar was a danger to not only himself but his fellow guard and most importantly of all those that he was meant to protect, “I am fine Captain, I would say so otherwise.”

If any hopes of finding a meal presented themselves they were soon dashed by Prince Thor exiting the Tavern and greeting him with an overly cheerful grin announcing that they were to retire for the night. The cold seaside town seemed to mock Faolán as once again he was forced to follow the princes out to the tents.

Maybe the next town will have a good place to rest, one that would give him a reprieve from the icy tents. That small flicker of hope kept him going as he watched the group argue amongst themselves about a matter that didn’t seem all that important. Apparently one of the bar maids had taken a fancy to Sif, though she denied it her cheeks did bloom with a potential confirmation.

“I will remain in the town a while longer,” Prince Loki announced confusing the group and Faolán.

The Captain sighed, “I can spare some guards to-”

“-This one will do,” Loki clasped his hand on Faolán’s shoulder, “You and your men can return to camp.”

The Captain was one of those men that did not like Loki for what he was, he felt the younger prince was a stain upon Odin’s ‘good’ name. A thing that did not belong amongst the royal house, Loki however was Odin’s son and therefore belonged no matter who or what he was.

Faolán tried not to get in-between his Captain, who stared at Faolán as if he would protest to Loki’s suggestion, (after all why would  he want to spend time with the younger prince over the older) and Prince Loki who waited for the Captain’s answer.

“As you say, your highness,” The Captain bowed and departed with the others.

Once enough distance was made by the two groups Faolán turned to Loki a little concerned, had he decided to reprimand him after all? “You have not eaten all day,” was not what he expected the prince to say, “Let us eat in  some modicum of peace.”

“I hate seafood, especially fish pie,” he should not snub food, he really shouldn’t, especially when it was offered to him by a prince but the idea of eating seafood turned his stomach.

“Then you at least have decent taste, they add whole boiled eggs to their fish pies here,” Just a simple mention turned Faolán’s stomach.

The prince found a smaller tavern, the one that they had not yet visited, it was right on the edge overlooking the oceans and void of space, not that the incredible sights could be seen from within the small tavern with the stain glass window and ridiculously thick stone walls.

A place by the fireside was opened up for the prince (and his guard) and while he felt guilty about taking what was the best seat in the place (as far as he was concerned) Faolán was selfish enough to enjoy it.

“You are overly considerate of everyone else,” was Loki’s first words and Faolán did not know what to say to that, “For instance I could sit here and eat a full-course meal by myself, which by Asgardian royal standards is seven whole courses and you would not say a word.”

Faolán did not know where Loki was going with this line of questioning and quite frankly he was too exhausted to be overly cautious of the potential traps, so he kept things simple, “It would be improper of me to dine with you, your highness.”

“Because of our differing social standings?” Loki asked watching as Faolán sipped his heated cider, the one that he liked rather than the one made with berries that he despised.

With a slight nod Faolán responded, “Yes sir, that and the fact that I am on duty until both you and Prince Thor retire for the evening.”

“You barely ate this morning,” Loki pointed out, “I noticed you made sure everyone had more than their fair share leaving you with what could not have been more than a couple of mouthfuls of stew.”

Again Faolán tensed, “I could not leave you, Prince Thor and his friends-”

“-Yes you could,” Loki leaned back lit by the light of the fire he was quite breathtaking, not that he wasn’t beautiful or handsome already but the warmth of the fire brought out the deepest greens of his eyes.

Faolán ducked his head, “Forgive me Sir but I could not, my duty means keeping you, Prince Thor and his friends safe, that includes making sure provisions are kept safe and secure. A task I failed to do as evidenced by the boars making off with our provisions.”

For a few moments Loki was silent, giving him time to study Faolán, the odd guard with the strange mannerisms. Most guards would jump at the chance to be amongst Prince Thor’s group, but this guard seemed less inclined towards Thor and more inclined to  him . Which was especially odd for a seasoned guard and warrior, most did not like Loki let alone want to spend any time with him.

He suspected the younger warrior harboured something that was more than a passing interest or fancy.

Too many moments of silence passed between them forcing Faolán to look up, nervous that he had probably done something wrong. Loki studied him, he was average as warriors went, brown hair and matching eyes, tanned skin even in the dead of winter and oddly the man seemed to smell of elderflower, something he had picked up on this morning.

“Will you be reprimanded for the lost supplies?” Loki asked as their food arrived, the prince already knew the answer to that question and it was,

“Yes,” Loki who had been about to take a bite of his game pie paused, studying Faolán confused, the answer was No, it should be no.

What guard would report the matter when it was easily ignored? Thor certainly would not have the guard punished for something that was out of his control, he was overly fond of the guards in general. It must be a warrior thing.

“No, the answer should be No, you made one mistake, in the days you have travelled with us you have given up enough to ensure that our party remain safe and warm,” Loki said.

Faolán of course refused to eat with him, so he stared at his plate, “I already reported the matter to my Captain, your highness. The appropriate measures will be taken upon our return to the city.”

“Eat,” and for good measure added, “That is an order,” Faolán was at first awkward about the issue but gave into his hunger, “And what are the appropriate measures?” he asked.

Faolán paused just as he was about to take the first bite of pie, “The appropriate measures vary depending upon who I am guarding at the time. Since I was guarding a royal party it will at least mean suspension without pay pending a review of my failings, your highness.”

The realization sat like a heavy stone in the bottom of Faolán’s gut, reminding him what a stupid man he was to have overlooked something so innocuous but important.

“And the harshest punishment?” Loki asked.

“I would be dishonourably discharged for dereliction of duties,” Faolán said.

Loki paused, surprised, “Surely it would not come to that for something so simple?” suspension alone seemed like overkill to him.

“It is more likely that…  that is the punishment I shall receive your highness,” Faolán answered, “I failed to secure supplies for the royal party, thus – especially in this season – opening you up to potential hunger and starvation, which should we be ambushed would mean you would have a lack of energy to defend yourselves. It was my own oversight and negligence that lead to the loss of the food… I am sorry for failing in my duty to protect you and your brother, sir.”

Faolán was no longer hungry, the weight had only made him feel nauseous, centuries of hard work, battles and war and this is how it ended.

“You should have lied,” Loki said cutting up a piece of carrot to eat, Faolán frowned.

“I mean no offence to you, my prince, but I would rather be honest,” Loki was not offended, more amused that Faolán might think he could offended by such a simple thing, “Besides if had I not reported the incident someone else would have done so.”

“Ah so you have enemies within the Einherjar?” Loki asked.

“None that I am aware of,” Faolán’s answer baffled the prince, “It is no secret that the Captain is due to retirement, so of course the race to be noticed for promotion has been a long one. One that has resorted to many underhand tricks and schemes.”

Loki smirked, “Ah politics then, which would imply by your very words that you are in fact a strong contender in becoming a Captain,” Loki chewed his piece of rabbit thoughtfully, “Which would explain why you were selected to guard us?”

Faolán sighed, “Yes sir, I am a strong contender but there are at least a dozen others just as strong as me, then of course there is still time for those not yet noticed to become noticed. My suspension or discharge would mean a place in that running opens up.”

“You would be forced to drop out of running for the captaincy regardless of what the outcome is?” Loki asked.

“Yes sir,” Faolán nodded, trying a piece of rabbit, his appetite once again getting the better of him, he managed a few more bites, carefully taking his time.

“A lie would have been preferable,” Loki continued, Faolán once again frowned.

“Perhaps I am not cut out for the role of Captain if that is the case,” Loki looked up surprised, “My mother says that I am cursed with an honest disposition.”

“I, too, curse honesty,” Loki said sipping his own warmed cider, he was surprised how nice it tasted alongside his food. “So you are to be dishonourably discharged then what?”

“Should the charge be deemed worthy of further punishment I will be sentenced to whatever timespan high royal highness deems enough within the prisons,” Faolán said.

“All for two sacks of vegetables, hams and one sack of salt?” Loki demanded.

“It is not the items that were lost, it is my negligence of duties on trail,” Faolán ducked his head ashamed that he was even permitted to eat with Loki especially with the upcoming future.

“The deck is stacked against you, you are punished for honesty,” Loki said.

Faolán didn’t agree with that, “It is to protect-”

“-It is politics, plain and simple, and  you  my naive fool are all too happy to be a scapegoat! No doubt someone with family connections to the previous captain will be elected in your place,” Loki’s harsh words cut deep.

Faolán instead chewed a piece of carrot and remained silent, what else was there to be said?

 The return to camp was fairly short, giving Faolán the chance to clear his head before turning in for the evening. After doing a final perimeter check and meeting up with the night guard to ensure all was safe and secure. One gave him a solemn pat on the back, news had travelled then.

He lay on the cold hard floor of the tent, his eyes turned to the ceiling of the darkened tent, “You are impossibly stubborn,” Loki said, Faolán turned to him confused, before he could argue he was once again pulled onto the spread out bedroll, only this time there seemed to be more padding. More blankets, a heavier blanket covered the pair of them.

“I… you purchased more blankets?” Faolán asked surprised he would do such a thing, if that were the case did they need to share a bedroll? Probably not, but he was not about to complain.

“No I conjured them from thin air,” Loki sarcastically uttered, usually people responded with wide-eyed awe or fear and asked ‘ really? ’

Faolán surprised him by saying, “That is impossible, something cannot be produced from nothing.”

“And what would you know of magic?” Loki asked.

“They teach us how to read,” Faolán muttered trying not to blush as he focused on a particular spot above him, the details had been lost in the dark, “I can even count.”

Loki grinned, “Well I am shocked, usually they leave that sort of higher education until you are ready to become a commander,” To Loki’s pleasant supply he managed to glean a rumble of laughter from the warrior, “Any other useful talents you may possess?”

“Aside from curling my tongue, none that I can think of,” Faolán of course had many talents, being such a long-lived being meant he had time to study and expand his talents and skills, but that would only bore Loki.

“Pardon?” Loki asked turning his head towards the warrior who immediately looked away the moment he turned his head to face the prince, ah so not just a passing interest then , his cheeks were ruby red.

“Uh, curl your tongue, you know?” he did not, so much to his embarrassment he demonstrated the process.

As soon as he turned away Loki tried it, he found he couldn’t do it, he could do many things with his tongue but apparently curling it was not an option. He caught Faolán snickering,  ah, so  he had been noticed.

“It is regretful that you have been put in this position,” Loki said which surprised Faolán, “You are not the worst bed companion I have had.”

That did the trick .

Faolán visibly stiffened, his entire face burning hot enough to keep the pair of them warm. “I-I um, you…” his stuttering was rather adorable to Loki who watched in amusement as Faolán tried to pretend that he was not flustered by Loki’s comment. Sense came back to Faolán who turned to the prince and asked, “Dare I ask who could be worse?”

“A rather fetching Lady who for some reason genuinely believed that I was sexually attracted to horses, so she dressed up as one and waited for me in my bed,” Loki said.

Faolán didn’t know whether that was the truth or a fabrication, it sounded like a lie but at the same time too strange to not be true, but the mental image made him laugh anyway much to Loki’s delight. The man had a rather attractive laugh when he wasn’t being a dour guard half freezing and starving to death.

At least that night was better than the previous nights, even with his impending punishment looming on the horizon.

Three days and nights spent on the roads walking to the next town while investigating the routes along the way had completely exhausted everyone.

Not because of the freezing biting winds, but because they had quite by accident run into the raiders that they had been pursuing. They were not the criminal masterminds the Einherjar commander made them out to be, rather they were just lucky. Ridiculously lucky, so lucky it could only be divine intervention.

It was not a good fight, fought in the hard cold muddy forest roads it was pure chaos. There was not a soul (not even a god) that was not left exhausted and aching by the end. Faolán was certain that he had somehow managed to break a couple of ribs, he certainly was bruised.

Thankfully the large merchant town they had just passed had some places to rest and recuperate. Though Faolán firmly believed that they would not have been given (for a fair price of course) these rooms had the princes not been with them. The rooms spread out across multiple inns were few forcing people to share once more.

The familiar sense of dread filled Faolán as he watched everyone follow that exact same routine they had taken when first sharing the tents. Hogun dropped rune stones into a bag which the others grabbed in hopes of getting a much better companion this time around.

Sif this time had to share with Hogun instead of Volstagg, this left Fandral worried he  might  have to partner with Thor  and Volstagg, that much body mass would crush him. (There was no way any of them would sleep on the floor) Then Loki pulled out a runestone matching not Fandral’s, but Thor and Volstagg’s did. Faolán swore he could hear a whimper come from the blond Vanir.

That meant once again Faolán was sharing with Loki, this time Faolán was suspicious, “Why do you get the guard,  again ?” Sif asked, which hurt he thought they at least bothered to learn his name after spending so much time together on the road.

“Luck was on my side it seems,” Loki preened.

“Luck or trickery, lets do this again and this time no magic!” Sif warned Loki.

“You would risk sharing a bed with Volstagg  and Thor?” Hogun countered quietly while the other three bickered about who slept in which position on the bed. Fandral refused to be in the middle.

“Or Volstagg again?” Loki offered up. Sif’s expression said it all, as cheerful as he was as a companion Volstagg’s size, girth and habit of farting in his sleep left a lot to be desired, especially in a tent.

“It’s not fair,” Sif complained.

“We would all rather have the guard, alas Loki was merely more cunning,” Hogun said putting his weight on his right leg to not to further injure the left as it healed.

I have a name , Faolán wanted to protest but no longer had the energy to do so.

While the other continued to argue amongst themselves Faolán set to work gathering supplies of which this merchant town had plenty. He managed to procure more food and drink for the royal party, not to mention more bedrolls and blankets at least that way everyone would be as comfortable as they could be on the travels back to the city. He had not managed to find any suitable tents that would protect them in this kind of weather.

His ribs still ached as he returned to the Inn, exhausted beyond all measure and relieved of his duties thanks to the other guards and Thor attempting to seduce every woman in a three-mile radius (aside from Sif) Faolán marched up the stairs to his assigned room.

At least he had been given the chance to bathe, though as he examined his wounds he sighed, not broken but defiantly battered and bruised. A good nights sleep and he would be fine.

“That looks painful,” Faolán jumped nerves getting the better of him.

Looking down Faolán sighed, “It is nothing, your highness,” he pulled his black tunic over his head covering his torso, he noticed the prince was still damp from the bath as well, “Is there something I can assist you with?” he asked after to long of staring by the prince.

“No,” answered Loki sitting down on the edge of the bed, he claimed the left side that was furthest from the window, “What do you intend to do should you lose your position amongst the Einherjar?” Loki asked him quite seriously.

Faolán of course had a plan, of course he did, it was foolish to assume that all his life’s plans would magically work out, and he would never need to consider alternatives.

He sat on the right side of the bed wincing slightly with the effort, Asgardians may heal quickly, but he envied the gods increased healing capabilities. The small cuts and scraps Loki had after the fight were long gone, a testament not only to his combat prowess but his physiology.

“Even disgraced I would be accepted in the Úlfhéðnar,” Faolán said causing Loki to look back stunned into silence.

“You would willingly throw your life away to become a wolf warrior? The life of a Einherjar is hard, the life of a Úlfhéðnar is unnecessarily brutal in this day and age,” Loki argued.

“I suppose I could leave Asgard and join the Vanir royal guard, I hear they accept anyone,” Faolán’s joke did not earn him a laugh.

“Because nobody is that dumb to join a guard that is beyond incompetent,” Loki derided, “You truly are a stubborn fool.”

“What would my alternative be?” Faolán asked, Loki frowned, “It is not as though a  disgraced warrior would be welcomed amongst warriors within the golden city.”

That much was true. And all because of a couple of supplies that had not meant to be there in the first place.

“You should rest, your highness,” Faolán suggested.

The room warmed by the hearth made the bed comfortable, then again any bed that was not sagging, broken, made of ground or had horse hair (which Faolán was allergic) amongst its filling was a good bed in his books.

He lay down ignoring the ache in his right side and instead looked out to the moonlit night where the cosmos itself was on full display. He settled down thinking it was best to try and sleep off the heaviness that had become a familiar friend as of the missing supplies incident.

Faolán was  almost asleep when he felt a hand press up against his ribs, he stiffened not out of fear (who else would it be other than Loki?) but out of surprise. Loki was surprised to feel Faolán relax a little, perhaps it was more than a mere attraction?

The warrior turned hesitantly to the prince, but twisting his body made it ache so he had to lay on his back, “Is something wrong?” he asked again.

“Your ribs are injured,” Loki supplied which yes, that tended to happen in combat, especially when someone with a war hammer gets a good hit in.

“It happens,” Faolán breathed carefully, expanding his chest to much made his ribs ache, it didn’t help that Loki  still kept his palm against Faolán’s ribs.

It happened because Volstagg did not watch his left side forcing Faolán to step in and save the unaware warrior from having his skull caved in. Had Faolán not had the skill or training he would perhaps be lay in the dirt body crumpled instead of heavily bruised.

It only occurred to a sheepish Volstagg after seeing Faolán decapitate the raider what the Einherjar had done for him. Not that anyone else would listen, he was credited with felling the raider captain while Thor felled the raider commander. Volstagg of course insisted that Faolán should get the praise. Nobody believed him.

Faolán lied, saying Volstagg was being modest which earned many laughs.

This annoyed Loki, “You should-”

“-It happens, your highness,” Faolán smiled in a tightly controlled way as Loki pulled back the blanket folding it just above Faolán’s waist to inspect the damage done. It was now that Faolán somehow realized his tunic was not on his person but resting on the back of a chair by his bedside.

“Many things happen,” Loki said his hand lighting up with his magic, to his constant surprise when it came to the stubborn warrior, Faolán did not flinch, pull away nor call him vile names believing he was cursing him. Instead, Faolán lay still breathing a little deeper with each breath.

It was a strangely incredible feeling, the power he could feel push through from Loki, the mending of flesh that he did not think battered and torn. It was like taking the first lungfuls of fresh air after being trapped in a dank mouldering house for days without reprieve. Everything felt better, greater than better, he could not fully describe how warm and wonderful the magic felt.

Then of course his body decided that this was quite amazing, his dick stirred, maybe it was the birth of some kind of kink? Or maybe it was Loki in general? Could someone develop an attraction to magic? It certainly seemed possible given his current state of arousal.

“Many of which are unfair,” Loki continued, studying Faolán who’s cheeks once again lit up ruby red only this time the light cast from Loki’s magic bathed him in a strange not unattractive green light.

“I can no more predict the future than you can devour the sun, your highness,” Faolán then turned to Loki, “You need not concern yourself over me. What happens will happen.”

“Oh?” Loki asked closing the distance between them, yes  he thought,  he is quite the attractive bed companion . Faolán smiled uneasy, on one hand it would be a dream come to (or at least fantasy) to pull Loki into a kiss, to feel his body against the god-prince. On the other hand…

Obviously it would simply be a one time fuck, Loki could have no long term relationship with a man, especially that of such a lower rank and an Einherjar (and possible disgraced warrior) no less! Which somehow made it harder and easier to pull away from the prince gently placing some space between them.

Loki reassessed everything, had he read Faolán’s attraction to him wrong?

Faolán blushed as he sat up, the ache long gone in his ribs though now his cock was demanding to know why he suddenly gave up his fantasy, this was an opportunity to fuck or be fucked by Loki, and he was not taking it?

“Do not think I am not flattered-” Faolán was cut off immediately

“-Most men would be offended,” Loki pointed out, annoyed at himself and rethinking where he might’ve gotten the wrong impression. A shame to, the man possessed such an attractive figure and face.

“Ah, well I am one of those odd sorts attracted to people regardless of sex and gender I’m afraid,” Faolán flushed crimson, admitting it out loud was dangerous and oddly terrifying, especially when confessing such a thing to a prince.

All he could think was how he should not have confessed such a thing, it was ridiculous but old fears clung tightly to his bones.

He was more than flattered by Loki’s advances, flustered, overly keen, he would, if younger and more reckless, accepted and responded without thinking of the consequences. Instead, he knew better, he was older, wiser, he knew not to start such things, even if it were just for one time.

His ribs grew cold without Loki’s touch, the lingering doubt and want cascaded into a complicated set of emotions that he dared not name or give too much attention to.

He turned to the Prince, who seemed angry, not at Faolán, he was certain the Prince could rend his bones to ash if that were the case, no he was angry at himself, so Faolán attempted to say something. Perhaps a last ditch attempt to be cordial.

“Do not bother with pleasantries,” Loki said rolling onto his side so that his back faced Faolán, “It will make things awkward.”

“I was not going to apologize, your highness,” Faolán admitted, Loki turned to him confused, “I simply think you should not be wasting any effort or time on me.”

There was a moments pause, where for one naive moment Faolán thought that the prince would argue, instead he sighed a heavy sigh the sort that left one feeling empty.

“You are not as foolish as I first assumed then,” Loki said betraying no emotion that he may or may not feel.

Faolán rolled back onto his side, aware of how his heart ached. It was safer this way, the prince may have simply been looking for stress relief after a fight but Faolán knew his own heart could not handle that.

They lay in a strange sort of silence until one or both of them fell asleep, neither recalled who had fallen asleep first.

Loki had returned to the golden city a week ago with everyone else, he quite by accident forgot all about Faolán. He had been tasked with continuing the odd appearances of the raiders, their sporadic targets and plans. Clearly there was some sort of order lingering within their schemes but for the life of him he could not fathom it, nor their grander plan.

So he did something he rarely did, he took a trip down to the Einherjar barracks where he met with the captain and others. He listened to the warriors drone on board, he already knew everything they were saying, he simply wished to compare notes but the captain was old-fashioned and liked to keep everything strictly organized.

One of the prospective captains, someone who looked like someone had (poorly) crafted a younger Thor from memory and added an unintelligent vapid grin to the youthful face that could not maintain a proper beard, stood and shuffled papers about.

“S-sorry, your highness, sir,” The man said, Loki rolled his eyes, the Captain appeared exhausted, clearly this was a common thing that he had to deal with, “Y-yo-you see follow-following um, Faolán’s discharge we-uh, well he-he was the one who kept things you know neat and stuff? So we kinda, we need to learn how to do this stuff, paperwork, office work.”

Loki perked up, “Faolán? Ah yes the warrior that was… discharged you say?” something hideous settled in the pit of his stomach.

The Captain nodded, “Yes, dishonourably discharged your highness following a dereliction of duty.”

That was quick, they had not been back a week, “How long did this process take?”

“I assure you it took less than a day, now to matters at hand,” The Captain continued, he had the air of a man who would rather drop this conversation. Clearly he had not agreed with it.

“For the sake of smuggled food, mead and salt?” Loki demanded to know, others looked at him sheepish, they clearly were just as uncomfortable as their captain.

“It… was an order from my commander,” The Captain glanced to the not-Thor before dropping his voice while the not-Thor continued to search for the right documents, “My replacement was selected, he is the nephew of our commander. As you know all to well, Politics can be an ugly game.”

“Indeed,” Loki thought back on the man with the sheepish smile, he had been so earnest, selfless, uncomplaining, honest… the fool. He pushed aside the handsome man with the endearing grin and brief flickers of aspirations and passion and instead focused on the mission at hand.

What was done, was done, there was no changing the past.

[justagirlsearchingforamuse]

For the Sean/Finn ask; I did mean all of them but if there are too many don’t worry about it 💞

A/N: Okay, also just so you know, this is sometime after the Blood Brother’s ending so Sean is 22, and Finn is 24 or 25 years old.

SFW

Who cooks?

Sean mostly does as his cooking just tastes better and he likes learning about a lot of different recipes, Finn loves his cooking especially when he cooks up some great Mexican dishes and one of his favorites has to be Sean’s cheesy empanada’s.

Who’s the messiest? The cleanest?

Finn is hella messy, often leaving his shit all around in their bedroom, and Sean is a bit cleaner than him and has been trying to get Finn to make it a habit to pick up after himself. It’s a tie between him and Daniel is who the messiest, overall Sean is the cleanest out of them both.

Who fixes the vehicle after a breakdown?

Of course, Sean does especially since he knows quite a bit about fixing up cars and stuff, so he’ll be the one to fix up the car to the best of his abilities. But of course, Finn will try to fix it if Sean is having trouble.

Living space has a leak! Who fixes it?

They’ll both try to fix it but Sean more or likely is the fixer up in the house he would try to fix it up and Finn would try to help him once he sees that he’s struggling.

Who buys the groceries?

Both buy groceries together but Finn will often go out when Sean is busy fixing up cars and whatnot, often they eat junk food especially when Finn buys food but Sean always makes sure that Finn isn’t just eating junk and makes sure that he’s eating full meals that will fill him up.

Going out to eat: Who pays? Who orders the most food? And who has dessert?

They both pay half or if Sean had paid before then Finn would pay and the other way around, also they both order an equal amount of food mostly because they don’t want to pay so much money for food. Also, Finn gets dessert most of the time which he only gets if Sean is fine with it which he is if they’re caught up on bills and have a little leftover.

Would they go to the beach?

Of course, they would I mean I believe that they would live by a beach and they go to the beach after a day of work or whenever they just want to relax and maybe swim together. They often go swimming together or just smoke together and talk about shit.

Who knows how to swim? Who doesn’t?

They both know how to swim greatly.

Is someone multilingual? Do they try to teach another language to the other? How does it go?

Of course, Sean is multilingual and knows great Spanish which he does teach Finn when they do make it to Mexico, it at first goes okay, he’s not the greatest at it but after a while, he becomes better and he often speaks Spanish at whatever chance he gets. Even badmouthing some people in Spanish which Sean tells him to stop and he becomes great at it by the time they have their first child and he’s happily teaching their daughter how to swear in Spanish.

Any pets? Or plants?

They do have 2 dogs and the only plants they keep are marijuana plants. The first dog is Daniella’s dog and it’s a small light brown Yorkie who’s named Caramel and they love the Yorkie a lot, well Finn loves Caramel a lot. Their second dog is a bit bigger and he’s a black Doberman who’s named Buffalo.

Baths or showers? Together or separate? Any bubbles or bubble fights?

They both enjoy showers together a lot especially when they don’t have a lot of time to take a bath but they’ll take a bath sometimes when they get the time to. Sometimes they’ll take showers together but it isn’t too often and they enjoy taking bath’s together all the time. If Finn’s in a playful mood, he might add bubbles and there might be a bubble fight between them if he keeps trying to throw bubbles on Sean’s face.

Can they stand silence? Who talks the most? Who talks the least?

They can stand the silence and enjoy it a lot especially when they’re just lying in bed or just smoking together. Also, Finn talks the most, and out of them both, Sean talks a little less.

Who stays up late? Who sleeps the most? Does the other have to force them to sleep/wake up?

They both stay up late sometimes depending on how much work needed to be done that day as well as Sean having a messed up sleeping pattern. Sean definitely sleeps the most and sometimes he has to shake Sean awake to take Daniel to school.

Who is the highest maintenance? Does the other mind?

Neither of them are really high maintenance, I mean Daniel is low-key a bit high maintenance but they both don’t mind unless he tries demanding things.

Vacation ideas: who decides them? Where would they go, if anywhere?

They try to both decide from a list of places that they all want to go to and if they could go anywhere it’d be either Costa Rica or Barbados.

NSFW

How often do they have sex, if at all?

They probably have sex 3 times a week and they go crazy on the weekends especially if Daniel is gone during the weekends, they do it whenever they have the chance to.

Who brings ideas? Who initiates?

Mostly Finn does and he often initiates it, he’ll try and tease Sean, his hands will be just feeling Sean up and he’ll try to hide his blush as well as his grin.

Any kinks they clash on?

Not really, they don’t do any kinks that the other may not like and they’re not gonna clash on something that the other doesn’t like and they just won’t do certain kinks if there’s gonna be a huge fuss about it.

Oddest place they’d have sex?

Either them doing it in Daniel’s bed when their bed was broken or them doing in it in one of their friends car’s whilst their friends were still driving.

Favorite positions?

The cradle sex position which I will link a picture here. Also, they love missionary as well the kneeling fox too. They like a variety of different positions as long as they’re not too hard to do.

Dom/top? Sub/bottom? Any switches?

Most of the time, Finn is on top but sometimes they’ll switch if Sean wants to be on top but most of the time Sean is bottoming. 2 out 5 times, Sean will get on top, the other times Finn will get on top.

Genital headcanons?

Finn has a dick that is made to be please everyone and anyone, he’s about 6.2 inches and he’s a bit curvy as well and he has a Prince Albert piercing, Sean thinks that he’s the perfect size and was glad that he wasn’t any bigger. He also shaves his pubic hair into an arrow pointing towards his crotch.

Sean is much more girthy and is 5.8 inches and is hella girthy, he never wanted to get anything done down there and he has a small bush down there.

Favorite erogenous zones?

For Finn, it’s his collarbone as well as his nipples, he’s also pretty sensitive on the back of his neck. He loves being kissed on those areas and it’s a surprise if he’s not gonna be a bit horny after Sean kisses him on those areas.

For Sean, he’s really sensitive on his neck as well as his thighs, and his hips, he loves when Finn kisses him on those spots or sucks on those spots, will be guaranteed to make him horny.

Quickest turn-ons? Immediate turn-offs?

For Finn, seeing Sean without a shirt on or being sweaty as hell, anything where he’s sweating or just showing off his chest is the quickest way for Finn to be all over Sean. His biggest turn off is when Sean is drunk or when Sean’s acting out of character, like being hella perverted or him throwing himself on Finn.

Sean’s biggest turn on has to be sweet-talking or Finn just whispering the things that he wants to do to Sean once they get to a bed, or even Finn teasing him like bending over in front of him or biting his lip. What makes it so much hotter is when Finn looks directly into his eyes. His biggest turn off is being Finn is being cocky or when Finn’s being hella prideful, like he just doesn’t like it when Finn gets hella cocky (pun not intended).

First to orgasm? Last to orgasm? Who comes the most? Does someone ever end up unfinished?

Well, Sean is the first to orgasm most of the time and unless Finn was teased a lot during foreplay, he might cum first which he’ll try not to get embarrassed and will still try to continue to make sure that Sean comes. Finn has a bit more experience than Sean and has a higher libido which is one of the reasons he almost always orgasms after him. Also, no, they both want to make sure that they both cum, it’s a must during sex.

Favorite romantic gestures during sex/orgasm?

For Finn, its Sean’s arms wrapped around him or him just sucking on any part of his skin, loves it when he kisses and sucks on his neck during sex as well as Sean’s fingers tugging lightly at his dreadlocks.

For Sean, he loves it when Finn kisses him deeply, or when he kisses him all over his body and or his chest, the boy just loves being kissed the hell out of, lol. He also loves it when he puts love bites all over him.

How are their afterglows?

They most likely kiss deeply after sex before cuddling each other or just lying next to each other and smoking as they either talk to each other or just enjoy the silence whilst smoking and or cuddling in each other’s arms.

Who’s loud? Who’s quiet? Does one try to make the other louder/quieter? How?

Both are equally open about voicing their pleasures but Finn can be a bit louder than Sean sometimes and Finn loves to make Sean just scream his head off in pure pleasure, whilst Sean is the one trying to get Finn to quiet down especially if Daniel’s asleep or if they’re doing it where nearby people are.

Lights on or off? Do they look at each other? Or is someone embarrassed?

They don’t mind but they both like it a lot more when the lights are off and they like looking at each other a lot, they find eye contact to be the sexiest thing ever and often look into each other’s eyes when they can.

Open or closed relationship? Do they sometimes share?

They have a kind of closed relationship, I mean they wouldn’t mind adding someone else to the mix or having threesomes but they aren’t sure about adding someone else to their relationship. I mean they don’t mind having threesomes sometimes but other than that they don’t really share the other.