#strict and unforgiving. ( daddy )

[willowcrowned]

the thing about qui gon and rael is that like. rael thinks qui gon is the version of him who didn't fail, right? qui gon was the one who didn't have to kill his padawan in the end. qui gon was the one who didn't fuck up in a way that unmade him. and qui gon knows that. qui gon believes that. qui gon thinks that all that's standing between him and the utter destruction of what's left of rael is the bare fact that he wasn't the one to physically kill his padawan. rael for qui gon is a version of himself that he hates. and that's something he can't ever acknowledge

[americanoemmy]

🌊🌊🌊🌊

[moonianbbyg]

asteroid achilles (588)

definiton; asteroid achilles represents our old traumas in our birth charts.

ACHILLES in houses:

house 1: this placement can show that this person could’ve possibly had body dysmorphia at a young age or was bullied for how they looked. you felt worthless at some points in your life and never accepted, you even had trouble fitting in. you suffer from it still and pay too much attention to your imperfections/insecurities. you suffer from childhood trauma that made you have bottled up emotions you can’t speak about, your sensitivity always grew bigger and so did your insecurities. you always wanted to feel like you’re enough. you are!! 💌 if you ever deal with infertility issues and that leaves a trauma on you (i hope you don’t though!) getting close to your husband’s/wife’s nephew/niece will make you feel better about it.

house 2: you may had to grow up in a home where your guardian(s) were/was strict on austerity. for you - being financially stable is important and you might think that happiness is money (you would choose money over love). you could’ve tried impressing your family a lot and they would never care, they’d be the type to look at the drawing you made for them and just roll their eyes then throw it away when you go away. you were alone helping yourself deal with depression. you valued your family a lot but they were the ones who caused you the most trauma before anyone ever could. [2H deals with immediate family that’s why this placement indicates that] women from your dad’s side were never in contact with you because they emotionally weren’t invested into you or interested + your dad might’ve abandoned you right when you were born, so you could possibly suffer from daddy issues too.

house 3: you could’ve had parents who always fought or would break up often and if you have siblings you never got along and you might’ve been the sibling that was hurt by that more. never having peace at home really started to build some sort of trauma for you because you need stability (this could’ve affected you even worse if your 3H is in earth) your parents could’ve always made you go to your grandparents’ house (or wherever you could) because staying near your home was terrible. while all stress you experienced from home you had issues expressing yourself and you felt like you have detached emotions at some point. could’ve gotten cat called as well and thought of self murder.

house 4: your mom could be the person that caused you the most trauma or her side of the family. you would argue with her all the time and some situations may have happened that you think are unforgivable or unforgettable. your mom couldn’t understand you most of the time so that’s what hurt you even more.. you wanted a mother figure so bad. if this isn’t the case your mom might’ve passed away while you were still young or she left you. you were the black sheep in the family everyone would talk bad about (some people could’ve even been almost poisoned by one of their family members.) you suffer from home issues and you’re looking for someone that will love you and not hurt you :(

house 5: (TRIGGER WARNING! MISCARRIAGE, this might be an extremely sensitive and hurtful topic for many so read at your own risk.) this placement can indicate a miscarriage so losing your child could’ve affected you so bad and you might even be afraid to get pregnant again, you’re afraid you can’t or you’re doubting yourself.. you think you’ll be a horrible mom/dad. if miscarriage isn’t the case here you might’ve went through some terrible experiences in kindergarten or while growing up. your childhood was rough and possibly violent. your granddad could’ve taught you a lot in life and losing him or him even raising his voice at you/saying hurtful things still sticks with you to this day. if you have a child you might argue a lot and that’s what will also leave you hurt. you always thought you can’t be yourself around others and spread your creativity around which made you feel helpless or fall into depression because you seek freedom

house 6: you had bad experiences at home since your birth and you could’ve felt close to your aunt (mom’s side) because she understood you. as you started growing up she started being less understanding which made you feel like you lost her as family too and that could’ve been trauma for you. you struggled with health issues and you’re always afraid when the littlest thing happens to you or others because it’s so traumatizing, deaths scare you too. you went through a period of life where you weren’t finically stable and it was traumatizing for you because you always want to provide the best for your surroundings, you hate seeing the ones around you sad the tiniest bit. you could’ve been the friend that’s left out when it came to going to prom and so on because you thought none of the girls/boys recognized you because you were so insecure about yourself.

house 7: trauma from your marriage. this indicates a violent marriage/cheating etc. your partner is possibly a sweet talker who’s very manipulative but you fell for it. if you tried divorcing your partner they could’ve possibly been acting like a psychopath and not wanting to let you go and you always feel like you’re being watched by someone or even followed so they could’ve left you very traumatized. 7H is your grandmother from your mom’s side too, and she might had to raise you so similar to 4H your mom was absent or too busy to take care for you. you understood your grandmother good and she understood you but growing up you started getting into many conflicts which left a stain on your heart.. or when she passed away it left trauma that’s hard to cope with.

house 8: (TW: RAPE, SEXUAL HARASSMENT) you were overly sexualized or raped/molested at a young age. you never payed attention to being cat called but you started to realize how disgusting and traumatizing it was the older you would get, and it would usually be older men that would give you disturbing compliments and so on. your first relationship probably had a huge age gap and you realized you were groomed as you got older as well. in your family - you experienced detached emotions from your family members, you never got told you’re loved directly and you could’ve been the black sheep in the family and to this day you still are. you want to be understood and accepted for who you are because you tend to feel like people think you’re annoying and can’t be yourself without getting/being judged.

house 9: your dad could’ve caused a lot of trauma to you and was your first “heartbreaker”. you weren’t affected by this a lot but now you find yourself chasing toxic people and getting into toxic relationships. you hate being told you act like or look like your dad because when you notice yourself behaving a bit similar to him you get disgusted. 9H also deals with your spouse’s younger sibling(s) so they may had forced you to cheat with them or have sex with them. this placement can indicate getting into car accidents a lot and whenever you went on vacation an accident could’ve happened. you struggled with school and felt helpless, this can also show having an affair with a teacher to pass the grade which can now leave you grossed out and traumatized because you just now realize how wrong that was.

house 10: another placement that shows being attached to your aunt. her death or you drifting apart affected you a lot. 10H deals with your mom’s nephews so when your aunt got her own kids you felt left out and it traumatized you losing her because it’s possible you got along with her better than your mom. people didn’t accept you for who you are and if you aren’t heterosexual and tried coming out you experienced not being accepted and facing terrible memories just for loving who you love. you might’ve been used a lot for sex and couldn’t say no. (this isn’t referring to rape but it’s referring to you saying yes just to please your partner/partners). since 10H deals with your public image you weren’t accepted for who you are which made you want to be someone you’re not and show your friends or your partner that you’re “perfect” that’s why you never had enough self respect.

house 11: people were never supportive of you or your goals. you felt left out from your friend group and that affected you a lot, needing support and affection made you traumatized because you wanted to feel important. if you have older siblings you might’ve argued with them a lot growing up because while you were little kids you were so close that the fall out with them because of the constant arguing made you experience trauma. you fear death and losing people, it shows you have bad attachment issues. you could’ve also been stalked or followed by someone where you had to press charges in order to feel safe, but the trauma here is - is that you can’t feel safe. (you are protected!!)

house 12: 12H represents your grandad (mom’s side) and your uncle(s). your grandad could’ve been a big inspiration for you or might’ve raised you because you were abandoned. your uncle or your uncles always talk bad about you or even force you to do as they say because they could’ve been the people you trusted a lot growing up - and now them knowing your secrets let them think they can take advantage of you. as a kid you could’ve had terrible nightmares or you saw murder happen in front of your eyes. small things leave you feeling depressed and all that together can cause trauma.

this post was created by @moonianbbyg on tumblr <3 if reposting my work please give credits.

[bimbonaparte]

daddy lessons (parenting in spn vs. being human)

I have not been able to stop thinking about this for weeks and it’s making me insane, so apologies to all but here we GO. McNair (Being Human UK) and John Winchester (Supernatural) both raised their sons to be weapons in a secret war and did unforgivable things in the process, but thanks to some key differences in their parenting approach, we get wildly different kids out of the equation. To recap the middle bit of the Venn diagram here, both fathers:

Dragged their kids around the country, raising them like soldiers to fight a supernatural enemy; it’s unclear when anybody’s first kills took place, to my knowledge, but we can safely say that they were at way too young an age

Weaponized the memory of a dead mother as an excuse for their crusade

Moved them around constantly and denied them almost any outside connections; by design, their whole world is wrapped up in each other

Raised their kids (Tom and Dean most successfully*) to have little identity outside of hunting and to be entirely beholden to the cause, leading to a very upsetting self-sacrificial streak

Demanded military-esque obedience; some questions may be allowed here and there, but ultimately dad is the superior officer and it’s his call

Lied repeatedly to their kids “for their own good” and kept them on a need-to-know-basis, even for stuff that they REALLY needed to know

*(I’m generally focusing on Dean & Tom in this analysis, since I think Sam escaped some of this by rebelling against the notion of a “good son”)

Hell, they even had similar deaths (i.e., made the decision to keep their kids in the dark -- rather than, say, explaining anything or asking for help -- and walk into a confrontation with an old enemy that they knew they wouldn’t survive). But despite all this overlap, we end up with two wildly different characters: jaded & emotionally volatile Dean, who drinks & throws punches to cope with feelings and performs toughness as if there’s a panel of judges in the corner at all times; and sincere & emotionally vulnerable Tom, who is also quick to throw a punch but who talks about his feelings, cries easily, and is totally unconcerned with whether or not he’s perceived as tough or masculine. I literally can’t stop thinking about it.

If you ask me, the two diverge thanks to some key differences between the McNair and John Winchester school of parenting. Despite the NUMEROUS mistakes McNair made in Tom’s upbringing, we have to give credit where credit is due:

McNair loved Tom. Unequivocally. Thought he was the best person to ever exist. Told him this daily. Told any given random stranger who stood still long enough in Tom’s general proximity. Reinforced it with physical affection and affirmation. Tom never had cause to doubt this for even a second during his entire upbringing, and it shows.

McNair must have realized at some point that Tom was different, that his take on the world was always going to be a little bit naive. Instead of trying to change this or toughen him up “for his own good” (which I can very much imagine being the John Winchester approach), McNair seems to have thoroughly embraced this aspect of Tom’s nature.

Part of that is expressed through the "code.” McNair raised Tom to live by a strict code geared towards a) survival as nomad werewolf vampire hunters, and b) survival as Tom, specifically, who has incredible physical aptitude but struggles with other kinds of learning & social cues. The code has its downsides (namely the unquestioning obedience bit mentioned above), but otherwise functions as a sort of framework that Tom can follow for navigating the societal rules & interactions he doesn’t fully understand. (There’s also the whole “teaching Tom to respect others” thing, which I could honestly write an entire dissertation on).

Beyond the rules McNair thinks they need to survive, however, McNair seems to delight in Tom simply being Tom. This shines through most with Tom’s disarming sincerity -- which he retains largely because McNair (and society at large) never tried to train or polish it out of him. There are a dozen examples where Tom cuts through layers of conversational propriety and is just genuine, because it doesn’t occur to him to be otherwise. Where other characters (like Hal) can’t help laughing at him at least a little, we see McNair take him seriously, respond with encouragement, and even match his sincerity (see: “You’re perfect”) despite the fact that McNair was raised in a society that would frown on men talking like this to their grown sons.

We therefore end up with a Tom who earnestly says things like “virginity is like a flower” with zero self-consciousness. Who would have come along to tell him men don’t talk about sex like this? McNair certainly wouldn’t have; his top priority throughout is supporting Tom as-is, not molding his personality into some idea of what a man is or should be.

The end result of all this is a very sweet, very straightforward, emotionally vulnerable killing machine. “Always be polite and kind and have the materials to build a bomb,” indeed. Tom is obsessed later on with being “a success” in a very performative way, but -- as all the characters around him repeatedly remind him -- this is not something that McNair ever cared about or put on him.

What I would love to do next is a) also acknowledge the incredibly profound ways that McNair wronged Tom (starting with killing his parents, which cannot be glossed over) and how this fucked him up; b) contrast all this with the John Winchester approach to raising child soldiers (SIGH) to see how it is that we ended up Dean; and c) look at Dean and Tom’s perception of their respective fathers. BUT. I unfortunately have to go do actual work stuff or I am gonna be in big trouble (plus this is getting LONG), so I’m gonna be revisiting this another time. In conclusion tho: Tom McNair fascinates me beyond measure, I cannot get over this, and I do not want to. TBC.

[hnychn]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 [𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈]

summary : levi wanted to believe the Fates were kind, but he should have known better

warnings : character death, heavy loss, a single mention of suicide, more greek myth allusions, fem! reader

word count : 3000+

a/n : omgomgomg tysm @yeehawslap for giving me permission to write this, i swear when i read their post i was immediately inspired to write this and i'm so sorry to your feelings :') also i swear i changed the title of this like, ten times

attack on titan masterlist || navigation

The Fates had dealt Levi a rough life. 

When the goddess Clotho had spun the thread of his life, she must have incorporated thorns into every string; even now Levi could feel the pricks of guilt that chipped away at his soul each time he opened the bottom drawer of his desk and faced the bloodied scout patches of the lives lost.. 

Lachesis had enforced his life; she had been the one to use his thread to create. Although, Levi must admit, the fates must have favored him a tiny bit if they had sent you to him. You, his lovely wife whom he met one late evening under the stars, a gash on his head and gauze in your hand ready for you to patch up. 

You had been there to take out every thorn in his thread Clotho had stuck in his life; every ounce of guilt, every second of regret had been a burden on his shoulders you relieved by simply being there. 

Perhaps the Fates weren't all that bad. 

They must have been even just an ounce of virtuous if they had allowed him to call you his forever. The fates had strung together a love story into his thread of life and allowed him to invite someone into the most intimate parts of him, allow him to find peace within someone; to create a life together. 

Levi could remember the day when you burst into his office, a smile so bright he was sure even the sun was envious of the warmth you radiated. No words were spoken as you pulled him into your arms and cried. 

It was only through hiccups and sobs did he hear your soft voice tell him he had created a life. And while your stomach was still as flat as it had been the night before and many nights before that, he pressed his hand against it nonetheless and promised to protect the life within you until his very last breath. 

Perhaps the Fates weren't all that bad. 

Isabel, as the two of you named your daughter, had become a nearly carbon copy of her father. not only did she share many features in common with him, she also inherited his strength. 

She was able to hold her head up on her own only a mere months after birth, and she often gave you a terrible fright when she climbed out of her crib at night with a strength a toddler shouldn't have. Though, it was of no real surprise to either of you; you were sure your womb must have taken a terrible beating with the strength of her kicks while she was still growing inside of you. 

And, with her strength and many similarities with her father, came her desire to join the scouts. 

It was the first time in her life Levi had denied her something. 

Admittedly, little Isabel had her cold, ruthless captain of a father wrapped around her stubby little finger since the moment you pushed her out of your womb. You could hear the way he promised to give her anything her little heart desired and often you found yourself being more strict with her. 

Though, this had been Levi's one fear. 

Levi has seen countless people fall beyond the walls. He's witnessed Farlan and Isabel (his daughter's namesake) tragically torn to pieces by those wandering monsters. He’s seen countless bodies piled up in wagons to return to the walls for burning. 

You’ve seen your fair share of horrors, too. You’ve seen the injuries people walk into your clinic with, the blood gushing through gaping wounds, their bones snapped in angles they shouldn't, the limbs you've had to amputate; and the sheer image of your daughter being one of them was enough for you to turn green with sickness. 

There were countless arguments between Levi and Isabel (you often found yourself the mediator of these fights and cursing the fates for making both father and daughter stubborn as mules). But ultimately, Levi had caved as he always did, and promised to train her harder than anyone else in the training corps.

True to his word, Isabel often returned home with bruises and collapsed next to you on the couch, her head falling into your lap with fatigue. You smiled as you ran your fingers through her hair as she tiredly recounted her training with her father and other members of the Training Corps. 

She had recounted many stories of the friends she’s made there; an arrogant boy named Jean who she loved to tease and roughhouse with, a boy with a buzzcut named Connie she liked to mess around with and prank occasionally, and a girl named Sasha. 

The dusty pink on her cheeks when she told you stories about her sprouted an inkling inside of you that made you think she was more than just a friend to your daughter. You only smiled as she went on. 

Though, late at night, when your husband had long ago fallen asleep and your daughter was tucked safely away in her room, did you find yourself praying to the Fates. You prayed no arm would come to your daughter and she would lead the happy life she deserved. You prayed the Fates were kind.  

Perhaps . . . the Fates weren't kind . . .  

Levi should have known the fates hadn't meant to give him a life as peaceful as his (or as peaceful as it could be with you and Isabel by his side). He should have known better than to think the Fates were righteous.  

Afterall, the goddess Atropos always came to collect what was due. Atropos was the third and final Fate, the goddess who cut the threads her sisters weaved and toyed with. She was the one who claimed souls. Atropos watched time and time again as Levi avoided her attempts to collect his thread and grew frustrated the more he slipped through her fingers like sand. So, Atropos did the next best thing. 

She stole a life close to him. 

Levi could feel his blood run cold when Jean walked in, his hands fisting the shirts of two children and his eyes wild with shock. His words were shaky and his eyes were covered in a daze of denial, as if his mind was trying to protect him from the inevitable heartbreak he would experience. 

Levi waited with a bated breath for Jean to crack a smile and admit this was all some sick joke he could punish him later for. That his whole thing was nothing but a nightmare and he was bak at home, cuddled in bed with you and your daughter was sleeping soundly in her room just down the hall. 

But he knew it wasn't a dream, not when you gasped as you did, when he could practically see your heart shattering in your eyes and the way you nearly pushed him to the floor as you ran to the back of the airship. Levi followed close. 

"ISABEL!" 

You had practically thrown Connie to the side to get to your daughter. Her eyes were hazy with the same veil of death you had seen time and time again with your patients and friends. Sasha stood still to the side, her eyes wide and her hands shaking, “should have been me, it should have been me.” She chanted the words like a spell that would somehow transfer the wound to her, a spell that would miraculously heal your daughter who lay on the cold hard floor of the airship, blood slowly seeping out of her. 

The logical medic in your brain delivered you the harsh truth as you assessed your daughter and her wounds. The unforgiving voice hissed in your ear about her inevitable death, the wound is too fatal, there’s no way she’ll make it back to the island. You hushed the voice as quick as it spoke, your heart denying the severity of the situation. 

"oh," Levi could only watch as you clutched onto Isabel, your hands working like clockwork as they put pressure on her wound despite the violent shake in them, "oh, my baby..." 

Levi took a hesitant step closer. It was haunting, watching his daughter who held so many of his qualities lay on the floor, bleeding to death. He had remembered the many times she pulled his hair as a child, giggling loudly as she pointed out the obvious, ‘I’m just like you, daddy!’ 

Oh, how he wished he could go back to those moments. When his daughter was nothing but a small child he cradled in his arms, tucking her safely under his chin as he gently rocked her side to side to lully her back into a deep sleep. He wished to go back to the nights he held your hair back as your stomach churned with nausea and your daughter was but a growing fetus, protected within the walls of your womb. 

"M . . . mommy . . .” Isabel breathed. 

You sobbed harder, "it's okay baby, i'm here, mommy's here." 

You ran your fingers through her hair, hushed her and soothing her as you once did many years ago when she was nothing but a small baby clutching onto the material of your dress. 

She had been so tiny then, so fragile and sweet and innocent. But she had long since grown out of her baby face and matured into a strong woman you were proud to have nurtured. But in this moment, it was as if she returned to the same fragile baby as she was years ago as she clutched onto the straps of your gear like a lifeline, her eyes dull but full of fear and hesitance.

"Mommy please, i'm- s' scared . . ." her voice was breathy and you could see the energy drain from her eyes the harder she tried to keep them open.

You wanted to be selfish, to tell her to keep her eyes open, to keep breathing and push through the pain. But you could see the pain flash in her eyes each time she took a breath, you could hear her breathy wince with every movement she made, and you knew you couldn’t be selfish. 

Levi could see your resolve slowly crumble, the way the shake in your hands grew more and more violent and he could practically see the screams bubble in your throat as you tried to swallow them down to comfort your daughter. Levi knew if he didn't step in now, there would be no salvaging the broken pieces of you after this. 

"It’s okay, princess." Levi crouched down on the other side of his daughter, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to keep his composure. 

Her head slowly turned to him, "d-daddy . . . ?" 

Levi hummed, "Yeah, it's me princess. It’s okay, you did so well, you were so brave." 

"I was?" her words were breathy and rushed as she tried to cling on to the last threads of her life. You could feel her grip in your gear lose its strength and you nearly let the screams clawing at your throat escape. 

pleasepleasepleaseplease, you begged, not her please not my baby. 

"So brave." 

Levi had never felt so helpless watching his daughter's eyes lose their life, he could only sit there and reassure her that everything would be fine and she had done good as she took her last breaths. Images of the other Isabel laying dead on the floor flashed through his mind and Levi nearly vomited. 

"I love you" 

Levi nodded, "I know. I love you too, princess. Now rest." 

The winds howled loudly outside, but there was nothing loud enough to drown out the screams that had finally escaped from you as you gripped your daughter’s hand so tight your knuckles turned white. Levi held you close as tears of his own dripped down his face and an indescribable weight placed itself in his heart.  

The Fates were not kind. 

Life after that seemed to lose its shine. 

Your home was hauntinly quiet. Every inch of the home had memories of your daughter carved into the wooden frame. Her first words, her first steps, her first breath. You had given birth to your daughter in the living room, and where the walls once gave you comfort and warmed your heart with reminders of the first life you had brought into the world, it now made you sick with grief and added to the weight in your heart. She had taken her first steps in the hallways, clutching your fingers tight as you guided her down the hall to Levi who waited for her with a proud smile. Her first words had been in the kitchen, where you and Levi cooked dinner for your quaint little family and she called out to the two of you, begging for attention. And who was Levi to deny his princess? 

You and Levi struggled to find your places in the world after that. Late at night, the two of you often clung to each other for comfort. Though, you knew Isabel’s death was hitting Levi harder than you. You could see it in the way he tucked her Scout badge into the left breast pocket of his shirts, hoping to keep the memory of her close to his heart; the way he avoided every mirror like it was the plague. You could see it in the way he flinched whenever he caught sight of his reflection, his own steel grey eyes and matted black hair staring hauntingly back at him. 

Isabel had taken after her father the most, afterall. 

You also found Levi’s features a bit hard to look at after that. It was hard to look into his eyes and see your daughter staring right back at you with a pleading look to not leave. There had been late night conversations where Levi assured you he knew of his similarities to Isabel and promised to not be mad if you wanted to leave him, 'I find it hard to look at myself sometimes.'

But you only held him tighter and stuck closer to his side, washing away any thoughts he had of you leaving him. You married him because you loved him, and nothing could change that. Even if he looked so similar to your lost daughter. 

The Fates also decided to make your lives a bit harder, as if taking away your first born hadn’t been enough suffering to put you both through. Levi had been sent away with Zeke into hiding. Initially, you wanted to go with him, to stick by his side and cling to your life support, but the others hadn’t allowed it. 

Hango could only grip your wrist tight as you watched Levi climb into the carriage and ride away. 

You begged Hange not to leave you alone after that; because you knew if you were left alone for long enough, there would be nothing stopping you from joining your daughter in the afterlife. 

Hange stayed by your side. 

You wanted to vomit. 

You could feel the sickening churn in your stomach as you stared down at the very girl who had stolen the life from your daughter. The images of your daughter clutching on to you tightly and her scared voice begging you to comfort her rang loud in your ears. Your mouth had dried instantly, any one of the thousand of words rattling in your head stopped by the numbness in your mouth. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many words you wanted to exchange with the girl who had taken your child from you. 

You could see Nicolo’s mouth move and his adam's apple bob with every sound he made, but it was all muffled whitenoise as your eyes trained onto the little girl who stared up at you with a look of horror and fear. 

“ . . . kill her,” Nicolo’s voice buzzed in your ears. 

You hadn’t even realised you took the knife from his hands until you heard Hange speak up from behind you. She begged you to put the knife down, to think rationally. 

But how could you? How could your mind think of anything other than harming the girl who was the cause of all your pain? When the girl who murdered your daughter was right in front of you, sitting on her knees, vulnerable. Your heart screamed and thrashed against the veins that held it in place for you to stab her, to make her feel the same pain your baby had to go through. 

But then she looked up at you. Her eyes were wide with the same fear and pleading look your daughter had in her final moments. You dropped the knife, your shoulders shaking as your eyes lined with unshed tears. 

“Kill a child. . . you- you want me to kill a child. . .” Armin stared at you from the side as your shoulders sagged and a few tears escaped your eyes, and he couldn’t help but realize how tired you looked. As if the weight the world had placed on your shoulders was finally catching up to you and your body struggled to carry it any longer. 

“I can’t do that. She’s a child. Someone’s daughter.” You collapsed to the floor, your hands digging to the carpet underneath you, “I can’t kill a child, not while I know what it feels like to lose your own. I can’t put another mother through the same pain I’m in. I just- can’t.” 

Hange kneeled next to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, her lips pressed into a thin line and sympathy swimming in her eyes for her friend who had lost her world. You looked back up to Gabi and she nearly flinched with how broken and tired your eyes looked, “I can only hope she’s found peace in the afterlife. . . 

“I can only hope the Goddesses of Fate are kind to her soul.”  

[rdrhoe]

what I need 2/2 (part 1 here)

daddy dutch x fem reader

warnings: dom/sub, rough sex, choking, bondage, orgasm denial etc, all the good stuff :)

also on ao3

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

You stilled as Dutchs promise washed over you. What did he mean your punishment wasn't over? Surely that had been enough!?

When you tried to voice this to Dutch however, he responded with a sharp slap to the back of thighs, his dark eyes meeting yours with a glare when you turned back to look at him, agape.

"I decide when you've had enough, girl. Have we not established that already?" Dutch sighed at you, pawing and kneading at your reddened backside, before tracing his fingers through your slick folds, but never entering you or touching your clit.

You tried not to protest or squirm, aware of how furious Dutch still was with you. Usually after he was done spanking you he was fairly quick to pin you down and have his wicked way with you. Eventually letting you come after he decided you were sorry enough.

You could sense his fury in the way he was holding you, the way he was yet to call you his good girl. But you knew you had to earn that, and although you tried to take your punishment well, you could tell Dutch was less than pleased with your attitude. It mainly stemming from the fact that, sure, you were sorry, but you were still mildly pissed about your pride being bruised. Having Dutch treat you like a possession constantly, in spite of how if you really listened to your inner most self wants, you would find that you almost certainly had no issue with being Dutchs play thing, but it was like, hey, at least ask you first?

You pushed your inner brat down, going docile and pliant in his lap, deciding to allow Dutch to do whatever he wanted with minimal complaining.

"That's my girl" Dutch purred above you, in recognition of your sudden complicity.

Dutch pulled you up gently, cradling you in his arms and kissing your forehead.

"You know I only want what's best for you, don't you sweetheart?" Dutch asked you, caressing your skin.

What's best for you, you thought bitterly, but instead bit your lip and stared up at him with big, adoring eyes.

"Yes daddy," you answered quietly.

Dutch hummed, "Good girl."

Oh, there it was. Those words. The ones that went right through you. Giving you goosebumps, and making your core heat up and your heart flutter. You tried to hide your smile in the crook of his neck, you adored being his good girl. At this point, you were fairly sure in yourself there wasn't a thing Dutch could inflict upon you that you would have an issue with, just as long as you always remained his good girl.

"Now then, sweetheart," Dutch began, once again sounding horribly wicked. "let's find out just how sorry you are"

And with that, you were suddenly tossed onto the bed, landing on your ass with a squeal. Dutch straddled you, grabbing your wrists and tying them to the headboard with some rope.

You tried not to wriggle around too much as you gazed up at him. You knew the rules; the more you fought against a punishment, the harsher he would be with you. Usually you'd struggle a little bit, both of you enjoying the battle you knew you would never win. But this wasn't a usual occurrence. There had only been a handful of times Dutch had truly been angry with you, and in those moments, you knew your only hope was to be as obedient as possible.

Dutch finished tying your hands, looking down at you with a look you couldn't decipher. Bringing his down to your breasts, squeezing and slapping them, before pinching both your nipples. Hard.

You tried and failed to suppress your squeals, the pain causing you an unfathomable amount of pleasure. Your body squirming beneath him out of your control.

"Such a pretty little thing... and all mine, isn't that right my love?" Dutch asked you, the slightest of smirks on his face. He loved this, loved when you knew you had crossed the line and he was going to put you back in your place.

"All yours, daddy" you agreed, trying to keep your voice steady, though it came out as a strained whisper.

Dutch hummed, apparently pleased with your response. He moved lower down the bed, tapping your thighs in order for you to stretch them out for him.

You displayed yourself appropriately, legs spread wide for Dutch. You pussy glistening and swollen with want. The look in his eyes made you shake. Still annoyed, but filled with hunger and lust.

His hands ever so slowly made their way up your thighs, heading towards where you so badly needed to be touched. Dutchs eyes remained glued to your expressions the whole time. He loved seeing what he did to you. In all honesty, if he could have you tied beneath him like this 24/7, desperately dripping wet for him, well, that's his vision of heaven on earth.

Dutch ever so gently began sliding a finger around your cunt, enough pressure to make you dizzy with want, but no where near what you really desired. Slowly, too slowly, using just his finger tip to enter you, just for a moment, before removing it and bringing his pad down on your clit. Again, just for a moment. The pleasure being overwhelming and instantaneous. You were moaning and withering beneath him in seconds, begging for more. He repeated this, ignoring your sobs and pleas throughout it all.

"... Daddy," you whimpered eventually, not having enough stimulation to bring you to your peak was driving you insane. "please... I need, more... Please"

Dutch ceased all movements then, his sinister smile could send the devil packing.

"Oh?" he answered, horribly amused. "And do you think you deserve that, princess? You know only good girls get to come"

You stilled then, trying to figure out if he was serious. He wasn't going to leave you hanging all night was he?

You stared up at him, trying to determine the best route possible for you.

"Dutch! M'sorry, I.. Daddy, please I just, I need..." your wrists were straining against your bonds already, panic beginning to set in that he'd only just started his ministrations on you.

Dutch laughed at you. Cruel and mocking. Before his hands reached for his belt buckle, and he released his hardened length.

You gaped at him, astonished. He never usually fucked you until you'd come two or three times from his fingers. Both because he loved seeing you come undone with his fingers alone, but also to help you with his size. He was big, and you'd always been a bit more on the petite side.

Dutch grabbed a hold of your ankles and raised them, pushing them back to each corner of the bed so you were folded in half, but still spread wide for him. He kept a hold of your legs (you thanking your lucky stars you were flexible enough for this) as he positioned himself, his dick sliding between your folds, causing you to mewl and whimper.

"Now then, my pretty little brat" Dutch spoke, demanding your attention. "I'm going to fuck you. Hard and deep, and you're going to take it like the good little whore I know you can be. Daddy's going to fill you up, and take his pleasure."

Your brain started scrambling. He wasn't going to let you come? Surely he wasn't serious? You looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Daddy, what-"

Before you could say another word, Dutch forced his length into you, the burn making you stiffen and shout. You both moaned as he bottomed out inside you. You tried to move your hips, either to escape or to chase the further pleasure, you weren't sure which. You pleaded with him, vague moans of "Daddy please I'm sorry I'll be good" and the like. Dutch ignored them all, his grip on your legs unrelenting, giving you no room for escape.

Dutch closed his eyes for a moment, sighing with content. "Perfect.." He stated, as he suddenly retracted fully from you, before slamming himself back into you, making sure you felt every inch of him.

You yelped and shouted as he started drilling into you, his pace hard and unforgiving. The stretch and burn inside you feeling more pleasurable by the second. Dutch kept a brutal pace, grunting at your tightness around him. You were so wet and needy for him, it wasn't long before you felt your orgasm building.

You bit your lip, trying not to make it obvious you were close. You were fairly certain he would stop if he did.

And sure enough, just before you felt the explosion you craved. Dutch halted his movements, and removed himself from you completely.

"Trying to come without permission are we? You really are bad aren't you?" Dutch sneered down at you, unimpressed with your sneaky attempt at pleasure.

You whimpered pitifully. Sure, Dutch was strict with you, but you usually knew how to get what you wanted. He couldn't resist your pleas, always so desperate to give his girl what she desired. But this time, he seemed to be in no mood for your games. Raising an eyebrow at you, he slowly continued to stroke himself, before entering you again once your budding release had elapsed.

"Mine, girl. You're all mine. And you need to learn to do as you're goddamn told"

Dutch started fucking you in earnest again, your moans and whimpers adding fuel to the fire.

"Daddy.." you gasped out through your moans, "can I... Can I please come, daddy... Please"

Dutch huffed a laugh.

"No"

You whined again. Pouting up at him. You were met with an equally unimpressed glare.

"I told you, only good girls get to come" Dutch said, bringing his hand down over your throat, enclosing your delicate neck in his iron grip.

Your eyes widened and you thrashed around beneath him in your bonds. Desperate for release and struggling to breath.

You tried to keep your eyes trained on Dutch, knowing he liked seeing you utterly wrecked. But it was hard, you could feel everything so intensely, but couldn't suppress the fear that was budding in you. There was something in Dutchs eyes you weren't quite used to. An almost primal glare. It could've almost looked like hatred.

"You know, I really was very upset with you, sweetheart" Dutch said as he eventually released his grip on your throat, allowing you to breath just as you were at your breaking point. He stilled his hips, but kept himself buried deep inside you.

"I'm still not sure entirely how this is going to end for you, my girl. So I really do recommend it to be in your best interest to behave"

You sniffled at him, blinking away your tears. Clearly in no mood to compromise. You knew you weren't getting out of this. And tried to express your obedience through your expressions, not wanting to piss him off further.

Dutch smiled at you, almost sweetly, but not quite.

"Now, don't you even think about coming. If you do... Well, there's always another hole I can use.." Dutchs implication was clear. You did not want that. Nor did you want him to be displeased with you any further.

You found yourself sinking deeper and deeper into the comfort of being his. It was times like this when you wondered why you were such a brat with him, when you truly adored having Dutch take care and control of you. Giving yourself up to him completely was one of life's greatest pleasures for you and him both.

Dutch was still looking at you. An expression on his face you couldn't quite comprehend. Want? Annoyance? Both seemingly pressed into one. You could hear the wheels turning in his head, no doubt thinking of your earlier misdemeanours, how best to further punish you.

"I'll never disobey you again, daddy. I promise" you tried, hoping to get back on his good side.

It didn't seem to work.

"Darling, we both know that's a promise you're not going to keep. But don't worry sweet thing, I suppose I've been too lenient with you. How can I expect my best girl to behave if she's not being properly disciplined. .." Dutch mused above you. Making sure you were hanging on his every word.

Your mind was racing, biting down hard on your tongue to refrain from quizzing him, not wishing to annoy.

You searched his eyes, pleading silently for him to take pity on you, and let you come.

It didn't work.

Dutch continued fucking you well into the night, never letting you spill overboard, but never giving you enough time to relax. The constant need and burning inside you becoming too much to handle.

You were long past the point of sobbing. You had tried everything. Promises of complete devotion and obedience. Promises that you wouldn't ever do anything without his permission ever again. Nothing worked. Dutch would merely answer with an "mhmm" or a particularly vicious snap of hips, leaving you crying and helpless.

He'd already come inside you twice, leaving his seed in you each time as he left you tied to the bed. Watching over you as you sobbed and pleaded with him, a cigar dangling from his lips.

Cruelly smirking at you, this time Dutch seemed to be enjoying seeing you so pitiful and desperate.

Usually by the time the water works had started, he was always fairly quick to give in to you. Not wanting his princess to suffer, but when you'd been bad, you needed to suffer. So Dutch knew you wouldn't fuck up like this again.

"Two whole nights you were gone, my girl. That's the longest we've been apart since we met" Dutch told you, taking a puff from his cigar, a malicious twinkle in his eye.

He was right, your infatuation with each other had been instant. You leaving your old life the second he offered you the opportunity to take you away with him. Keep you safe, and close, and his.

You blinked up at him through your tears. The knot in your stomach tightening. Where was he going with this?

"As a result, my love, the punishment should fit the crime." Dutch spoke, his tone leaving no room for arguments.

"Dutch, I, what are you-" you tried

"You know how helpless I felt? Waiting around for you?" Dutch interrupted you. "Well... that's how long you're going to go without release, sweet girl" Dutch told you as he watched the meaning of his words sink in.

You started sobbing again, "No! Daddy! Please I'll be good I swear, just please-"

"Now, sweetheart, this is for your own good. I can't have you running around here being a little brat now, can I?" Dutch answered you, revelling in your discomfort.

"You'll be lucky if I ever let you out of my sight again after your little stunt, let alone out of your current... predicament." He told you, looking dreadfully smug.

You wanted to slap him then. But all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and pray he would take it easy on you, but knowing and wanting in your truest of hearts, that if he was to keep you here, however long that may be, there wasn't a thing you could do to stop. And that's just the way you liked it.

[mintjamsblog]

I just read Fight and OMG it's perfect and I want more. I can't stop thinking about that 'disastrous shopping trip' Tommy and Alfie go on. What happened? Was Tommy trying to smarten Alfie up? Did Tommy need new gym gear? Would love to know more.

This ask was the motivation I needed to just drabble something. So thank you. Enjoy.... (Read Fight the full fic here, consider this an outtake). Have an appalling edit of images that may or may not have inspired me...

"Ninety-five fucking quid?" Alfie says, with no attempt to hide the incredulity in his voice.

"They are hand-stitched, with real leather-soles, Sir," confirms the rather snooty-looking assistant. Alfie doesn't miss the way she tilts her head back slightly as she glances through her stupidly tiny spectacles to give him a quick once-over. It makes his eye twitch.

"Don't change the fact they're for a seven year old, does it?"

"The school has a very strict uniform policy," Tommy says, glaring at Alfie with a look that clearly says shut the fuck up.

The assistant turns her attention away from Alfie as if his mere existence, let alone presence in this shop, offends her. Perhaps he is a little under-dressed for one of the most exclusive shopping streets in London, but when Tommy had said shopping for school shoes, he had imagined a quick trip to the local Clarks followed by a leisurely lunch, not getting off the tube at Bond street and dealing with all these wankers.  

"How do these feel?" the assistant asks, prodding Charlie's toes through the unforgiving leather.

"Hard," Charlie says. He's wearing a pout that could match his father's. Alfie really can't blame him, this is the fourth pair he's tried on and each looks uglier and more uncomfortable than the last.

"Well, I'm afraid these are the last of the styles accepted at St Christian's," the assistant says to Tommy. "They will soften up with wear," she adds. "We sell an excellent leather conditioner that will make them more supple in no time."

"I bet you fuckin' do," Alfie mutters.

Fifteen minutes later they're back on the sunny flagstones of South Molton Street, bumping through the crowds.

"Daylight robbery," Alfie mutters. "No need to worry 'bout pickpockets round 'ere. Just head into a shop."

"No one's going to pickpocket you, Alfie," Tommy says with a sly smirk.

"Well, no, that's on account of my clear physical superiority, innit?"

"It's on account of the fact you look like a bloody vagrant."

"Oh, right. Well that's charming, innit?" Alfie looks to Charlie for some moral support. "A man gives up his Saturday to assist a young lad in the soul-destroying task of shopping ... and this ... this is the thanks he gets."

"Best not take that cap off," Tommy continues, "someone might throw a few coins in it."

"You're very lucky young Charlie is here," Alfie says, sliding his sunglasses on, "or I'd take this cap off and teach you a thing or two." He slips his fingers into his pockets after that and decides to sulk for a bit. Just to show Tommy he doesn't care. His attempts at awkward silence are somewhat hampered by the presence of a seven year old.

"Can we go for lunch now, Dad?" Charlie asks.

Tommy looks at his wrist. "It's only half-eleven."

"But I'm hungry," Charlie whines.

"You're always hungry," Tommy says. "We'll go for a burger in a bit. I just want to nip into a shop round the corner first."

'Round the corner' turns out to be a euphemism for around several corners, down Regent Street and off another side alley that stinks of cash and snobbery. Alfie is as disgruntled as Charlie by the time they get there. Only he can't say anything, can he, because he's fucking sulking, right? Not that Tommy seems to have even noticed.

"I just want to get some new jeans. Ada threw wine on my other pair."

"Dad you have loads of pairs," Charlie moans. "Just wear some of the others."

"But they were my best pair. Look, we're here now. It won't take long."

"It will," Charlie says, kicking his feet and looking to Alfie for back-up. "He'll take ages. I bet you don't have hundreds of pairs do you?"

"No," says Alfie, seizing the opportunity to make a point. "I hate jeans." That's not entirely true. He likes looking at jeans. Particularly on certain people. Certain people who have a penchant for wearing them tight with a neat-fitting shirt and a good belt. But wearing them himself? That is another matter entirely.

"No one needs more than one pair of jeans" he says with a defiant glare at Tommy.

"Exactly!" Charlie looks to his dad as if this proves the point and starts to walk off down the street.

"One pair of jeans.. Are you serious?" Tommy says.

Oh fucking brilliant. That back-fired didn't it? Alfie looks down at his baggy joggers, at the way one waist-tie is dangling past his knee whilst the other is barely poking out of the waist band. He pulls at it to even them out.

"Some of us appreciate comfort, Thomas."

"Some of us appreciate style.”

Alfie looks up at the Japanese sign over the distinctly unwelcoming shop. Everything inside is white and shiny, like some sort of clinic. In the centre of the almost-empty space is a long thin table, with nothing but neat piles of folded denim. Alfie would rather be entering an actual clinic, where they stick needles into you, but the second Tommy crosses the shop's threshold there's an assistant at his side who looks like something out of a k-pop video; he wastes no time in eyeing Tommy up. Alfie takes a deep breath and walks in, shouting for Charlie to come back.

Tommy unlocks his phone and hands it to his son, "you can play on the games until I'm done," he says, nodding to the one chair in the corner. 

“This isn’t a good sign,” he whispers to Alfie.

"No youtube, understood?" 

Charlie nods and looks appeased. 

"Right, so that's him sorted, how about me?" Alfie asks.

"You’re coming over here," Tommy says in a voice that is not to be messed with.

"Can I recommend something I think would really suit your physique?" the assistant says.

"I usually wear the six-twenties," Tommy answers.

"Ah, yes. But I think that you're going to love these." K-pop boy stands back to get a good eyeful of Tommy's arse, one finger poised on his lower lip as if he's posing for a selfie. "30 inch waist, yes?"

"Yes," Tommy answers, but the kid is already flapping out a pair of small blue jeans from the table. He picks up three more pairs in barely-distinguishable shades of blue, and takes them to a small curtained-off area at the back that is meant to pass, Alfie supposes, for a changing room. He can't help but scan it for video-cameras.

"And my friend, here, would like something smart," Tommy says.

Alfie bristles. At everything. At being called a friend (not that he's sure how else Tommy should describe him); at being bullied into trying jeans; at the implication there is anything about this whole experience that he would like. At the suggestion he needs to smarten up. He is, in fact, so busy bristling that he doesn't notice the assistant walk over and place both hands on his waist. Then his hips. Then his arse.

"Sorry," says k-pop. "It's just so hard to tell your size with these ... baggy ..." he doesn't bother to finish the sentence, just sneers at Alfie's green tracksuit-bottoms. "Thirty-four maybe. Bear with me. I'll have to check out the back for that size."

Alfie glares at Tommy and snarls like a terrier. Tommy has the gumption to smile.

Ten minutes later they are both in the tiny changing room and the tables have most-decidedly turned. Alfie is staring at his reflection thinking that, okay, these jeans aren't bad.  No, they are not as comfortable as his trackies but yes, he did appreciate the look of approval on Tommy's face when he pulled them on. He scrubs up alright when he wants to. Perhaps he could make an effort once in a while — if only to see that glint of mischief in Tommy's oh-so-serious eyes.

Tommy, on the other hand, far from looking smug, now has a face like thunder. A full-blown cyclone even. Because those beloved 'six-twenties' he came in for are looking rather tight on his thighs. So tight, in fact, that when he's managed to button the fly they look decidedly obscene. It's Alfie's turn to smile. He's just thinking how much he likes the look when k-pop peers around the curtain and plants his greedy little eyes on Tommy's bulge. Okay, maybe not.

"Have you changed the cut?" Tommy asks.

"Would you like to try the 32?" k-pop purrs.  

"No," Tommy says.

"The six-thirties have a more generous fit on the upper leg," he offers.

"No thank you," Tommy repeats. His voice is clipped enough to make k-pop retreat, which leaves Alfie to stare in the mirror.

"All that gym time has certainly strengthened your legs," Alfie smirks.

"This is your bloody fault."

"I certainly hope so, sweetie." Alfie can't help but laugh at the sight of Tommy fighting his way out of the denim. "Bit of muscle suits you."

"Fuck off," Tommy replies. The pout that his son wore earlier is now plastered on Tommy's face. It makes Alfie want to kiss him.

"I've always appreciated a thicker thigh. Looks like all those squats have paid off, don't it?" he continues, ignoring the furious flush now spreading across Tommy's cheeks.

"If you've had me do those on purpose, Solomons ... I'll ..."

"Yeah? You'll what? High kick me with those well-developed quads?"

Tommy is too busy wrestling the denim from his ankles to answer.

"Bring me down with a scissor hold? Perhaps k-pop's got some larger sizes out the back you could try."

"Who?"

Alfie just winks.

Tommy refuses to buy anything after that. Alfie walks out wearing his jeans, which cost four times what he’d usually spend, just to be annoying.

"You look good," Charlie says. Smart kid, that one. "But why didn't you buy anything, Daddy?" Maybe not so smart.

"You're dad's a bit peckish, isn't he now?” Alfie says, feeling, inexplicably, like he should come to Tommy’s defence. “Let's go grab a burger."

Charlie is delighted. They head for a gourmet burger joint where Alfie proceeds to order the works: burgers, milkshakes, fries, extra cheese. He and Charlie stuff themselves, while Tommy refuses to take more than two bites.

"Cheer up, it's only denim," Alfie offers.

"M'fine," Tommy mumbles, and orders a beer. Alfie, is left to make conversation with Charlie.

Alfie learns that day that Tommy does everything with conviction — even sulking — he can keep it up for hours. And perhaps Alfie shouldn't have insisted on visiting two more shops and buying himself a shirt. And a cashmere jumper (there's a reason Tommy wears those things, he now understands. They're fucking comfortable aren't they?) But Alfie is a man of conviction too. And it is his utmost conviction that Tommy's thighs are far better naked, and slung over his shoulders. Which he tells the idiot repeatedly. Until finally he decides that actions speak louder than words and fireman's lifts Tommy into his bedroom to prove his bloody point. Turns out Tommy finds it hard to sulk when he's bent in half on his back. Alfie supposes he could put up with more shopping if it results in Tommy looking like this -- kind of like he looked in the dressing room -- cross and flustered and pink-cheeked. Good job he wasn't making these desperate little noises in the shop though. K-pop would probably have fainted. 

[wglim]

ATEEZ’S KINKS

S E O N G H W A

dom - seonghwa adores being in control. there’s just something about him, something that radiates this kind of energy. he loves being in control; it’s a necessity for him. having power over you is what really gets him off, regardless of everything else he enjoys.

orgasm denial ; giving

sexy lingerie

volume control

roleplay

spanking ; giving

light degradation ; giving

H O N G J O O N G

switch - the term switch is used very lightly here, in the sense that he’s primarily dominant, though he would never oppose if you expressed wanting to be in control. so used to leading his members, the dominant personality he assumes is often very strict.

choking ; giving

bondage ; giving/receiving

praise ; receiving

mild daddy kink

orgasm control ; giving/receiving

thigh riding ; giving

Y U N H O

dom - without a doubt, yunho is a soft dom. he can be rough when you want him to be and has no problems doing so, however he isn’t the type to get off on seeing you in pain. he’d much rather make you feel good, which is something he does in excess.

oral ; giving

overstimulation ; giving

praise ; giving

size kink

body worship ; giving/receiving

thigh riding ; giving

Y E O S A N G

neither - yeosang is more on the vanilla side, which leads me to believe he wouldn’t really care either way when it comes to the role he assumes. he may show different tendencies depending on what you’re doing, but he has no real preference, as he has the same kinks regardless.

light bondage ; giving

eye contact

mutual masturbation 

sensual sex

dirty talk ; giving/receiving

finger sucking ; giving 

S A N

dom - though san is very dominant, he’s open to other things as well. he’s so sexually experimental, he’s always eager to try something new or perhaps something you haven’t done in a minute... even if that’s letting you take control every once in a while. a yes isn’t a guarantee, but it’s more likely than you think.

choking ; giving

teasing ; giving

exhibitionism

experimentation

temperature play ; giving/receiving

body worship ; giving

M I N G I

dom - mingi is a dom, but like san, he isn’t so strict that he’ll deny you control every time you ask. he loves being in control, but he’s not afraid to be submissive every so often. he can be very intense or rough at times, but as long as you’re both enjoying yourselves, he doesn’t think it matters very much.

marking ; giving

spanking ; giving

food play

photography

oral ; receiving

orgasm control ; giving

W O O Y O U N G

dom - wooyoung loves asserting his dominance over you. he isn’t so strict that you can’t top him once in a blue moon, but submission is far from his favorite. when he’s really in the mood, he can be so rough, so unforgiving. he loves pain, though not enough to cause any long term damage.

thigh riding ; giving

spanking ; giving

volume control

blindfolds

teasing ; giving

light degradation ; giving

[evansbby]

Ok is poyt steve into spanking the puss or ass more. And would he use belt or hand?

Who is soft dom and hard dom out of

1. Ari

2. Ransom

3. Nomad Steve

4. Curtis

oooh thanks for both these questions! the answers are under the cut along with some smutty thots!!!

Who is a soft dom/hard dom out of:

1. Ari — both! This man is so beefy and dilfy and experienced, he usually switches depending on his mood. Meaning sometimes he’ll treat you like his little doll, with soft commands as he babies you and takes care of you, carries you everywhere, let’s you suck on his thumb or fingers when you feel like you need to. But he can be hard dom too. He’s capable of getting super rough and filthy — dragging you to the limit with some of the most kinkiest sex and punishments. He loves embarrassing you in public, public sex, almost getting caught etc.

2. Ransom — I’d like to think he’s a soft dom because I love the idea of the asshole villainous playboy being soft for his girl. He loves to dote on you, gives you whatever you want and although he does control you — he isn’t very strict with rules and punishments. Unlike…

3. Nomad Steve — this man is a hardcore hard dom. He’s very strict about his superiority over you and reinforcing his rules. He’s basically a strict disciplinarian and you don’t want to piss him off. Because he will punish you. Ruthlessly. No mercy. He’s also very stubborn and controlling. It’s his way or no way.

4. Curtis — he’s a hard dom. But less of a disciplinarian and more of just a cruel daddy. He can be very wicked and very hard and unforgiving with you. Similar to Ari, he’ll push you to your limit and he’s not gonna be nice about it.

As for your other question, POYT Steve loves spanking both your pussy and your ass, but he’s obsessed with your ass more than anything. And he prefers to use his hand. The belt only comes out if he’s super angry. Like feral, not-thinking-straight level of angry, kink of like he was in part 2 of poyt.

[btsunniemoonie]

Bangtan in bed (Hyung Line)

BIG NSFW WARNING

Don’t read if you aren’t over 18, smut begins under the cut

How would Bangtan be in bed? (Hyung Line)

(Credit to the owner of this gif)

By: Admin Sunnie ☀️

Maknae Line

Seokjin

He isn't that much into the dom/sub thing

This guy is all about intimacy, sharing love and being with each other

But don't let that fool you – he‘s one kinky guy

He's that guy who openly admitted that he likes the feeling of choking on food – so I think he'd be into choking in general too

He even admitted that he likes to be restricted (the moment where Cop!Jungkook wanted to arrest him)

He likes to restrict with his hands the most and choke with his hands too

He likes to get restricted and choked too

So, he isn't as vanilla as everyone says

He's into very intimate eye contact too, especially when he's working those delicious hips of his against you, as it's making everything even more intimate and passionate as it already is

Even though he likes to be choked, he still is in charge

I don't see him as a baby boy, he rather allows you to do these kinds of things with him

His fave position is, HANDS DOWN, missionary

Most say it's vanilla, but damn, he just likes to see all the reactions he elicits

Every. Little. Reaction.

He likes to be choked the most when you're riding him

He loves to eat you out too, but he's not that much into oral

Of course, he won't ever say no to a blowjob and sometimes, he just gets the urge to give you head too

But he loves the real deal too much, loves to be buried in your dripping heat, making you squirm and cry on his cock

He lowkey doesn't think that he's a dom, although he is pretty dominant

He gives his everything when he's fucking you and sometimes he doesn't even notice how he's overstimulating you:

You're begging him to stop, but he still pounds and pounds and pounds

Please stop, I-I can't-

But I am not finished. I know you can, princess. Do it for me.

He always calls you princess

And as soon as you both are married, you're becoming his queen

His moans start very restrictedly and deep, not wanting to let go so soon, but the closer he gets to his release, the higher and clearer his voice gets

He loves cream-pies

Seeing you drip with his cum

Having owned you in such a raw way

He's into quickies and that's the only time the both of you use condoms (stay save kids!)

He likes lingerie on you

And costumes too

Likes uniforms and tiny dresses, he likes cute things on you

Yoongi

He's very intimate, absolutely passionate and lovely

Many see him as the dom type, which he definitely is, but for his love, he'd even get on the subby side, but not too much

Only when his s/o wants to try it out

He's very into the dom/sub thing

He likes to be close to you at all costs, eye contact isn't that important to him however

Everyone says he is the worst when it comes to punishments, but honestly, he hates to punish you for the things you want

It makes him feel like he's above you in that relationship, which he doesn't like

He is your equal

He wants you to have as much fun as he has and he doesn't want to punish you just because you're liking it

Punishments are sometimes just too much

When he deeply and utterly loves you, he can't punish you

But he doesn't show it

His face is mostly harsh and he threatens you with his eyes only

And that's when you start to beg

He LOVES it when you beg for him

When your eyes get all big and pleading, nonsense bubbling out of your mouth because, damn, does his cock feel good!

He melts when that happens and drills into you even faster

The only punishments he gives you are some spanks here and there

And the fact that you love to be spanked by him, makes it even better

If you like it a little harsher he wouldn't mind using a belt on you too – but only when you two talked about it beforehand

But oh my oh my, when he starts to get jealous, he tends to lose control

He trusts you – but he doesn't trust other guys

But when you do something to tease him and elicit something out of him – that's when you should prepare for some serious punishment

Because that's the time you didn't yearn for him in particular, you yearned for the thrill that he can give you with one look only

If it really comes to that, he wouldn't mix too much pain into the punishment

It'd either be overstimulation or cum denial

Oh yeah? Little baby can't take it anymore? How sad that she has to, after making daddy so angry

He mostly seems so cold and untouchable but he isn't – especially not with you

When you start to moan he feels like he's in heaven

He'll get so many goosebumps

He'll probably lean over you and whisper into your ear

That's the only thing you're allowed to say, so keep going

He loves all of your sounds

All in all, he's a very loving dom

Calling you his pretty baby doll

He loves to praise you

And oh hell, when you start to praise him, he puts even more effort in it but tries not to show how affected he is by it but lowkey fails miserably

He can handle any sub, from bratty to obedient

He has this aura, this authority aura which maximizes in bed too

Just because he's soft for you doesn't mean he can't put you in place with one single look

He knows how to put you in your place again

If you cum when I say so you'll get a reward from me

He rather catches you with rewards than scaring you with punishments

He doesn't want to scare or intimidate you (especially because he is ALWAYS seen as the most grumpy and intimidating one), he wants you to put effort into it and enjoy it

Because I know my baby girl can do it the best, can't she?

He loves to take you from behind and add a finger into it

He doesn't have a favorite position, because As long as I am fucking you I don't need a special position

He loves to eat you out for hours

Making you drip on the sheets and on him

Making you cum so often you're about to cry

Just to then bury himself in your welcoming and dripping heat

He likes to have sex for hours

He doesn't like quickies, he wants to put his everything into it for you and to properly treat you too

He lives for the slow burn

Making you drip on his tongue or fingers before even entering you

He loves to stretch your sex sessions out

He won't push you too much over your limits, if you aren't acquainted with that type of long-lasting sex, he will help you to get used to it

He doesn't want to drag you behind him – he tests it all with you

He likes to give oral more than he likes to receive because Nothing comes close to that tight pussy of yours.

I mean, he won't ever say no to a blowjob, but he'd rather eat you out first and then fuck you

He likes anal, more than he likes to admit

He's an ass and boob guy, he loves it all

He's a groaner and growler, moans aren't that often to hear with him

He isn't quiet, he's more on the breathy groans side

He cusses way more than he's groaning or moaning

He starts to moan when he can't bear it anymore

When you clench around him so tightly he has to stop in his motions

He lives for dirty talk

He loves to tell you what he's doing right now, groaning it into your ear or, when he wants to truly tease you, moan into your ear

He likes double penetration and he loves to use his own fingers for it

Gliding into your pussy with his cock and sliding his finger into your forbidden hole, stretching it out and making your pussy even tighter for him

Curling his fingers inside of you and feeling himself

He likes to use sex toys on you too

And he isn't ashamed to go into a sex shop

Buying vibrators and maybe some nipple clamps for you if you like them

He'd even ask you beforehand if you want anything in particular – he will buy it for you

He likes to tease very much – but often more with words than actions

He doesn't mind if you're wearing the most expensive lingerie or some panties from the convenience store – you're always sexy to him

No matter what you wear

Okay, maybe when you're wearing one of his shirts he finds you even sexier

And he really likes to make you cum in his shirts too

Yoongi likes it raw

And he almost always wants to finish inside of you

Lemme taste us and clean you

Yes you read it right

He is into cum eating, but mostly when he creampied you

But that mostly happens when he's in a subby mood

Which doesn't happen so often and it mostly happens when your relationship is already very long

He needs very much trust to let himself fall into someone else's arms

Isn't the one who's overly submissive and starts to wear lingerie or anything like that

He just likes to sometimes give you the lead, letting himself fall into your embrace

Hoseok

Our Hobi likes it kinky, dirty and risky

He likes public sex, such as:

Car sex

Road jobs

Blowjobs/Handjobs in semi-public places

He's very into the dom/sub relationship

He's the dom

At all times

No submissive trait is in this man

He's into punishments, especially when you're into them too

Not that he would punish you for too many noises

Just when you behave overall bratty and don't listen to his commands

He can get very unforgiving then

Denying you your release for days weeks, but still playing with you

Eating you out

Fingering you

But when you're close to the edge, he would stop and grin at you

Only good girls are allowed to cum

Of course only when you're into that kind of thing

He likes to see you squirm and beg for him

He's a pretty strict dom

He loves when you're on your knees for him

He loves facials

He fucking loves to make you squirt like a fountain for him

He likes it pretty messy

He loves to leave his marks on you

Hickeys, love bites, you name it, he does it

He likes to be marked too

You both would definitely have a save word

He's very into pet play

You're his kitten

Seeing you in a collar, on your knees, waiting for him like a good girl makes his blood run south in seconds

He loves to show you off

You guys would often wear matching jewelry sometimes only that

When you'd wait for him like the good girl you are, on your knees, wearing your beautiful collar, only waiting for him

He'd be over the roof

His sunny persona gone in seconds, traded for a dark and promising expression

He'd tilt his head to the side

A cocky smile on his lips

His voice raspy and very dark

Did kitty miss me?

He would play hours with you if you greet him like that

Giving you multiple orgasms with his fingers and tongue

He lives for oral, giving and receiving

He likes when you beg, but he mostly likes it when you're behaving

He's a moaner, sometimes he tends to groan when you clench extra tightly around him, but he mostly moans

He cusses under his breath pretty often

Raw or not is absolutely up to you

He is okay with it, either way, the most important thing is that he gets to be with you

He likes to praise and be praised too

When you praise him during sex he probably goes even harder on you

Taking up a notch and getting faster, drilling into you

He likes to stimulate your g-spot so he really does his best to always find it

He loves the way your breath hitches and your face gets all red as soon as he finds it

He's very vocal

He likes to have some nicknames too, master, sir, daddy, he likes it all

But he isn't one to punish you when his real name slips from your lips

He loves you way too much to punish you for such a thing

He's still very loving and passionate and will only do these kinds of punishments when you're really into it

When you're not, he won't punish you too much

Maybe a few spanks here and there

He's a switch

But more on the dom side

Let's say 65% dom and 35% sub

But he needs someone to show him that it's okay to put the lead away for once

He's so used to always lead and guide, he's used to taking control so he just knows how to do it

And giving control away somehow scares him but excites him too

And once that door to the subby world is opened, he is loving it

He's a natural dom, he just knows what he has to do to make you work for it

He's a very thorough lover

He can get rough pretty easily

Especially when you ask him to be

He likes anal and doggy very much

His first priority is to make you cum

He likes to lose his control in the velvety and soft walls of you

He loves to call you babe

He loves to receive head, even more than giving it

But damn, it would be a shame if he wouldn't use that lips of his to eat you out properly

He loves every position there is

But he loves the ones where you can have eye contact and kiss

He loves to kiss your whole body

And leave hickeys in their wake

He loves the way your body looks covered in his hickeys

He doesn't like bite marks that much, but if you like them, you can bite him

Somehow he likes to be nibbled on

May it be his shoulder, earlobe or collarbone

Or even his chest

He really likes it and goes crazy over it

When you do that to him out of nowhere

Expect him to sport a boner in a few minutes

When he's on the subbier side he wants you to ride him

He wants you to use his body to pleasure yourself

He wants you to take control and just work yourself on him

He lives for praises when he's a sub

He gets putty in your hands as soon as you call him a good boy

When he's a dom, he's a groaner and he swears a lot, but he doesn't moan that much

But damn when he's a sub

He gets whiny

He starts to beg

Rather under his breath and very quiet, but he begs

He'd be so ashamed that he begs, but damn, it would make him twitch so much

P-please, g-grip me t-tighter, h-hold me, I-I'll b e a good boy, please, please, play with me!

His face would be so flushed

His lips all wet from his own drool

His body glistening from his sweat

He'd be so fucking whiny for you to touch him and bring him to his release

He doesn't like punishments

Not as a dom and not as a sub

Especially not as a sub

He needs much trust to let himself fall, so when he would be punished for something like that, it would heavily backfire and he wouldn't do that anymore

He likes to spank you very much, but not that much as a punishment, rather as a reward

[cornholio4]

Downfall of Snape

Author’s note: I have read and liked stories which have Snape in a positive role but I am not really a fan of him. If you are a Snape fan and don't like Anti Snape stories then don't read this. This story will not be kind to him at all. Snape fans can read and write their own stories but this is for Snape haters.I got this idea from reading stories where Harry managed to get Snape fired and arrested in some cases and I noticed about how it took Harry making a stand before anything was done. I decided to try my hand at this story showing Snape being dealt with before Harry even came to Hogwarts. Inspiration was the story Lily's Changes by Arekay.

Severus Snape sat in his dark cell at Azkaban trying in vain to block out the effects of the Dementors as they passed by. He had thought about the turn of events that led to him rotting in his cell.

It was about his 3rd year as a professor of Hogwarts and he had been doing what he had done for the past two years; praising his Slytherins while making sure the other houses especially the Gryffindors knew their place. Then came the day the first potions class of a first year Gryffindor who was the son of the Auror that had arrested him before Dumbledore managed to get him set free.

The Auror was not pleased and made his disapproval known in the Daily Prophet and he was looking forward to making the brat pay.

He would give snide insults to the boy and belittle him for any mistake he had made; one time a potion he was working on malfunctioned thanks to sabotage by another Slytherin student. He let the stupid boy have it belittle him and even finished it up with a comment that it was to be expected because of his oaf of a father who didn't know when to shut up about situations he had no clue about.

He was lost in the moment but was quite pleased with that last comment and the laughter of his Slytherins to the tears of the boy. However it would backfire spectacularly.

Sometime after that when the Daily Prophet people came and Severus almost lost his appetite over the headline "EX DEATH EATER BULLIES SON OF AUROR AT HOGWARTS!" The boy had written back to his father about what had been happening and the man had called for all the complaints of Severus to be investigated.

They were now working on a case against him at the Board of Governors and at the Wizengamot. He was being sued! Plus there was a letter from the Board of Governors calling him for a hearing about the complaints about him since he started at Hogwarts and his attitude in class.

He was shocked and furious especially at the mutterings of the students upon reading the Prophet; he then swept up and went to where the boy was sitting at the Gryffindor table and shouted at him "you think you are so clever boy running to daddy? Well I hope it will be worth it because fifty points form Gryffindor and you can look forward to a month cleaning cauldrons in detention..."

"He will not Severus, he will not be serving any detentions or any points loss!" thundered Professor McGonagall as she walked over to where Snape was. "You will not bothering him anymore Severus and I will be looking over any detention, points loss or gains from now on. You will sit down right now and you will be behaving yourself from now on. Do I make myself clear Severus?" she asked harshly and there were quiet cheers and laughter from the students.

Severus was now asking McGonagall what she was doing undermining his authority but McGonagall interrupted him by shouting "I said do I make myself clear Severus?" Snape was taken aback and silently nodded as he furiously went back to his seat humiliated.

He saw at the staff table there was not one sympathetic face among them, later he ended up barging into Dumbledore's office demanding he did something about all this but he had pushed his luck too far. Dumbledore was trying to sort everything out and had actually lost his patience by telling Severus to get out and he hopes he will behave himself if he doesn't want to make it worst for himself.

He was silent as he walked out.

Then came the hearing at the Board of Governors and they relayed the testimonials and complaints of the students. He tried to say he was a strict but fair professor but there were reports of students potions being sabotaged putting their lives into risk and Snape punishing the students.

He had looked to Lucius Malfoy his old ally in the Death Eaters as he had thinking he could at least count of him for support. However Lucius knew of the evidence against Snape would be hard to argue against and plus he thought losing Snape at his position at Hogwarts was worth it to make Dumbledore look bad for having him hired in the first place. He was looking for a chance to make Dumbledore look bad since his recent unsuccessful campaign to have Dumbledore and the rest of the Board ban the Fountain of Fair Fortune from the Hogwarts library.

The end result was that he was to be fired and Dumbledore agreed and Snape was not happy; especially since this evidence would be going to his hearing at the Wizengamot.

With his bullying of Hogwarts students including taking his grudge on the Auror on his son, outright slanderous statements that he had made of the man in front of the boy's class, putting them at risk with little regards of their saftey and his attitude about it all made the case clear.

He was forced to pay compensating to the students who suffered under his care; he was fined heavily; banned from any teaching profession and a restraining order against him bearing near the Auror, his son or the family.

He was furious about the indignity of it all had he wanted revenge. He had gathered some thugs and snuck into the family home at night.

He was met with the boy's father and blindsided him with the Cruciatus Curse before he managed to get it off. He wanted to make the man suffer with his own custom spells before he killed him; but he had failed to take into account that the man was a trained active Auror and he had not seen a fight or a duel in over 2 years.

The man had managed to sidestep his spells and disarm them and had before triggered an alarm to call more Aurors to his home through the floo. Snape and his thugs had been taken down and then arrested.

At their trial for his use of one of the Unforgivable Curses; breaking and entering; violating the restraining order placed upon him and attempted murder he was found guilty and sentenced to Azkaban.

That is where he had been since then and he remembered Dumbledore's disappointing face and his statement to the Daily Prophet saying that he regretted giving him so much free reign and wasn't strict enough with him.

He had come across a guard reading a paper talking how Harry Potter had come to Hogwarts; he was thinking about how he regretted not being able to put James Potter's spawn in his place.

[jksangelic]

more than friends (m)

↳ rating: M

↳ genre: smut, angst, tiny fluff, roommate!jungkook, 

↳ pairing: reader x jungkook (ft. taehyung as the “fuck buddy”)

↳ warnings: dom themes, daddy kink (I’m sorry I know), breath play, bondage (?), overstimulation, phone sex but not the kind you’re thinking of, jungkook has tattoos (-: maybe slight dubcon???? exhibitionism????? what ISN’T in this )-: 

↳ summary: you and jungkook have been roommates and close friends for a couple years, and you’re oblivious to the fact that the only reason why he hates your recent fuck-buddy is because he has the fattest crush on you. 

↳ note: i actually wrote this for a friend, so, um. this is for you, bitch. i spent days on this. anyway, to anyone else reading this trash, enjoy, you heathens!

↳ words: 7,694+

↳ series: one | two | ?

if you prefer to read this on ao3, click here.

“Tae,” you breathe, extending your neck and allowing him to litter kisses and scrape his teeth along your jaw, “Taehyung, he’s going to be home any second now.”

His large hand slides down your bare stomach, trailing his blunt nails up and down until he finally sneaks under your flimsy t-shirt and massages a breast. You internally thank yourself for forgetting to wear a bra and let your pleasure be heard.

Taehyung responds by humming lowly, letting you feel the vibrations through the hickey he was working on above your collarbone. You’ve always scolded him for leaving marks when he wouldn’t let you return the favor, but he was dominant in every aspect and shut out every rule you’ve ever given him; not that it was too much of a bad thing anyway.

For a second, he lifts his head, noses touching and eyes mocking, “So what? Not like you care when he’s home anyway.”

You roll your eyes and push him away, causing him to slump back to the end of your couch. He props his leg up devilishly, fully aware that his hard-on is on display and watching you with his head tilted back; he was testing you.

The act in itself was tempting, but the fact that it was Kim Taehyung, with long silver locks that covered one eye and parted for the other, his infamous boxy-grin that displayed wickedly perfect teeth, and golden skin that resembled honey was enough to make you hot and bothered.

Taehyung was a simple man; known as nothing more than an untouchably attractive philanderer that had taken a particular interest in you a little over a month ago. You had taken this “interest” to heart, thinking you could have been the woman to change his ways. However, upon confessing your feelings to Tae, he immediately turned you down and informed you of the other women he kept in his pockets, even during your intimate time together.

It hurt, sure, but leaving him and abandoning the pleasure he gave you was too many losses in one day. Even more, your pride was already crumpled from the events and you figured bouncing back with the “friends-with-benefits” proposition would keep you from feeling like a complete idiot.

“Sorry, hon, but you’re only supposed to be here to pick up your laptop,” you smirk, leaning forward and nestling your head in the crook of his groin, playfully nipping at the material of his sweatpants. “You have a date with Serena soon anyways.”

A growl rumbles in his throat, suddenly remembering the event he drunkenly planned at Jimin’s party the previous night.

The both of you being distracted by your own thoughts, you must have not heard the click of the front door upon a guest’s entry.

“Fucking gross. Y/N, you have a room for a reason. Fucking use it.” Jungkook aggravatingly spits, chucking his gym bag next to the kitchen island and raiding the contents of the fridge with vigor.

Removing your head from its comfortable spot, you pull your shirt back down and rearrange yourself as to not show your whole ass in your, conveniently for Tae, very short workout spandex to your roommate.

“Hi, Kookie. How was your day?” You retort with a fake, syrupy voice. When he doesn’t answer, you look back to Taehyung, who has softened and reached out for his laptop before tucking it underneath his arm.

“Alright, alright, prick. I’m leaving.” Tae chucks up his signature “V” to Jungkook, who was now eating a slice of pizza, and heads for the door.

After the door shuts, you attempt to sneak past Kook without further interrogation, but know better when he suddenly clicks his tongue.

“He’s such an ass, Y/N. You deserve so much better than that and you know it.”

You roll your eyes, having heard this before. You spin on your heel, walk towards Jungkook and lean on the fridge.

“We’re just friends and you know this. The benefits are mutual and I’m content with the way it is.”

“You’re that desperate for dick, huh? That’s pathetic.” He says, shoving a ridiculously large bite of pizza crust into his mouth.

“At least I’m having sex, Kookie. When was the last time you blew your load without the assistance of baby lotion and your right hand?”

With this, he rolls his head in annoyance and scoffs. “You’re a bitch.”

You wink, snatch the rest of the pizza crust that resorts in his hand, and finish it off while heading back to your room. Nothing was more enjoyable than winning a fight with him.

Your roommate, Jeon Jungkook, is nothing short of a temperamental college dropout. When you had first met, you were blinded by his straight dark hair, charming looks, and tattoo-cluttered arms; but a month into your quiet-yet-friendly living quarters, it was as if his free trial was over, and you now faced the full price and wrath that was Jungkook.

Jungkook was very… blunt, and in some ways, you really appreciated that. In others, you sometimes wished he would just shut the fuck up. Highly opinionated and judgmental, having him around was like having four older brothers living under the same roof consistently nagging you over anything you did.

Needless to say, it was difficult to talk about your personal love endeavors with him. Even though he was your friend, he treated you like you were naïve, and sometimes you knew you were, but it didn’t mean he had to undermine your actions or assume the worst. Even more, his whole mood inconveniently shifts from jerk to full-blown asshat, the recent conversation only scratching the surface of his regular lashings.

Aside from that, over the course of a couple years, you had finally grown comfortable of Jungkook’s disposition and loved him very much. Did you wish he would pick up around the apartment more? Sure. Did you ever try convincing him that blasting his music on his various speakers at 2AM is very annoying? Oh, yes. Did you embarrassingly beg him to stop leaving his jizz-filled tissues blatantly laying around in his room or on top of the bathroom trash bin? Unfortunately so.

But the world works in unforgiving ways and as much as you had wished for a quirky young female roomie to reply to your Facebook post, you got the galaxy’s cutest gangbanger.

After wasting a few hours on YouTube, you decide to wash up for the night; taking your phone, a pair of panties, and your favorite button-up that Jungkook gave you, you make your way to the shared bathroom and lock the door behind you. (There have been enough embarrassing encounters of Jungkook walking in on you, thank you very much.)

As the steaming water runs down your body, you can’t help but think of Taehyung. You knew you wouldn’t get any farther with him, but you couldn’t imagine leaving the relationship—or whatever it was, entirely. Maybe Jungkook was right, even though you established a strict boundary of “friends-with-benefits”, it was still toxic in the sense that you harbored fondness for Taehyung.

You knew one day you would have to end things for your own sake, but even then, being scarred from the first attempt at explaining your feelings made confrontation difficult for you.

Your mind went on like this for a while, looping back and forth between being uncomfortably content with the current situation and positively anxious knowing that you need to save yourself from getting any more involved.

Realizing you’ve been drowning in your self-pitying thoughts for the past twenty minutes, you finish washing your hair and shut off the, now cold, stream. Out the corner of your eye, you spot the flash of your phone and notice Tae had texted you a few minutes ago.

“Date didn’t go too well. Want to spend the night tonight? We can watch a movie or two if you’d like.”

And as simple as that, you caved like you weren’t silently combusting over your dilemma just twenty seconds ago.

“I’ll be over in 30,” you send, slamming your phone back onto the counter like it was the source of your disappointment. Throwing on the clothes you brought into the restroom, you walk back into your room and plop onto your bed face-first.

Jungkook must have smelled your distress as you heard him pad through the hallway and knock on your door almost immediately.

“Come in,” you muffle into your pillow.

“You look tired. Did you masturbate yourself to sleep?” He asks, potato chip bag in one hand and the other shoveling some into his mouth. God, that guy was a walking vacuum.

“Sadly, no,” you mutter, “I’m having an existential crisis.”

He frowns at this and plops down next to you in bed, his large body consuming your twin-size mattress. “What’s wrong? Do you want to talk about it?”

You shrug, “Not really. It’s just boy stuff.”

He looks appalled, throwing his hands in the air and spilling chips in the process, “I am a boy! How much more qualified do I need to be?”

You tilt your head and give a ha-ha before standing up and busying yourself with folding clothes or moving something from one place to another; antsy.

When you stand, Jungkook notices your very… revealing choice of clothing. When Jungkook had given you his old shirt, he had not expected you to utilize it as much as you did, and frankly, it made his heart and his dick jump at the sight almost every time.

As if the heavens had heard his pleas, you conveniently reach for a high shelf in your closet and expose the black lace panties that hid under his shirt. Gulping, Jungkook scrambles to look at anything else but you.

Breaking his trance, you suddenly speak, “Oh, by the way, I won’t be home tonight. I have plans. Do you mind just running the next laundry load while I’m gone?”

He ignores the chore you assign him and inquires, “Where are you going?”

Your movements stutter, knowing that if you told him you were spending the night at Taehyung’s, he would throw a fit. But whether you answered him or not, he knew.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes with balled fists, acting as if he held the world’s responsibilities on his shoulders.

“I know you’ll, like, cut my dick off or something but I swear to God, someday, I will pummel his face into oblivion.”

You giggle in amusement and locate the nearest duffel bag to shove clothes into. “I know, Kookie.”

He grunts, “If you know he’s shitty, why do you keep feeding him? Taehyung is like, bottom-of-the-barrel shit.”

You pout to him and zip up your things. Somewhere in your actions, you managed to find shorts and Jungkook is internally disappointed.

“Don’t be mean. He can be a good guy sometimes.”

“My ass, Y/N. If you looked up ‘small-dicked bastard’ in the dictionary, his face pops up. I know it,” he continues.

“Jungkook,” you throw a stuffed animal at his face, “literally shut up. If you’re going to harass me anymore before I leave, you can escort yourself back to your own room.”

He ignores you and furrows his brows, “Like, I’ve accidentally seen his dick, no thanks to you by the way; it’s not even impressive!” He begins counting on his fingers, “He’s small, he’s dumb as fuck, he doesn’t even like you that way—”

“Jeon Jungkook!” you yell in vexation.

“—he won’t ever love you, Y/N, that’s honestly just some bullshit fantasy of yours. You’re so blind to it and I can’t stand to pity you anymore,” he claims nonchalantly.

You froze, his comment figuratively slapping you in the face. For a second, the room is absolutely quiet and you feel blood rush to your face. Not only were you mortified, but livid at how easy it was for Jungkook to spew such an exclamation.

Your eyes sting and tears threaten to fall. Jungkook must have noticed because his eyes suddenly bulge and he’s sitting up quick.

“Y/N?” he voices with concern.

He won’t ever love you.

And as much as you needed to hear that exact sentence, you never wanted to hear it from someone like your best friend. He was right in every sense; Tae would never sympathize enough to genuinely interpret your feelings and reciprocate them, but now that it was said aloud and floated in the air, you wanted to sob.

More concerningly, Jungkook would never go this far in any of the conversations you two have had about Taehyung. Even he knew his boundaries, and you trusted him to still respect your heart as a woman. You trusted him and you were entirely wrong and he somehow managed to rip your heart out and stomp on it and give you his large, round puppy eyes like he was oblivious to how bad that hurt.

Ever so quietly, you breathe, “Fuck you.”

Jungkook watches as you wipe at your sniffling nose and red eyes. “What?”

“Fuck you!” you fume, grabbing your bag and storming towards your door, “get out of my room!”

He chuckles, “Are you serious? Baby, chill out. Come here and give me a hug or something.”

You flash him a close-lipped smile before slamming your door on him.

“Fuck all the way off,” you say to no one in particular. On the way to the front door, you snatch Jungkook’s Jeep keys off the coffee table, now declaring he won’t need the car for the night and march out of the apartment.

When you finally load your stuff into his black Jeep and fling yourself into the driver’s seat, you decide to give yourself a few minutes to cool off.

It wasn’t too big of a deal, you’re sure Jungkook’s fat mouth just got the best of him, but it still made you vehemently emotional. You weren’t head-over-heels for Taehyung either, but you were embarrassingly afraid of being alone and you desperately sought for affection, which is actually really dumb now that you think about it.

You sighed as you realized that you may have been oversensitive, but nonetheless, the fight only occurred ten minutes ago, and it would be best if you just left.

Reaching into your bag to grab your phone and text Tae, you feel your brain melt into realization.

You left your phone in the restroom from when you showered.

Lady Luck surely wasn’t on your side today, but you were very dependent on your phone and you would rather walk back inside, tail between your legs, than be petty enough to leave it entirely just because of a measly dispute.

Hopping out of his ridiculously lifted Jeep, you ride the elevator back to your floor and try to open the door as quietly as possible. Perhaps Jungkook wouldn’t even catch you coming back in if he was in his room.

Cautiously tiptoeing through the hall, you recognize the groan of the pipes in the walls and curse silently; Jungkook was showering. In the only bathroom of the apartment. With your phone comfortably laying on the counter.

Fortunately, he left the door ajar enough for your body to slip through and grab it without his knowing, hopefully. In front of the door, you can hear the shower stream fluctuating, assuming he must be washing still, you go for the kill only to be horrified by the occurring events.

Jungkook fucking moans; and not just a “yeah-this-shower-is-relaxing” moan, but a fully-fledged whine.

Suddenly, you hear, what you surmise to be, the rapid sounds of Kook pumping himself in the water and you force yourself to bite down on your lip so hard as to keep yourself from laughing, crying, or a pathetic combination of the two. You should just grab your phone and leave, but he doesn’t stop.

“Ah… Y/N…” Jungkook growls, stopping you in your tracks.

You whip your head to look back to the shower; did he catch you walking in on him?

Seeing that the shower curtain was, indeed, closed, it takes you a few moments to interpret why he called your name.

“F-Fuck, Y/N,” he grunts out again, voice low and heavy and you swear to god it rattled throughout your bones.

He’s fucking jacking himself off to you.

Jeon Jungkook, your hot-ass roommate that was also your best friend, is masturbating to the thought of you and is continuing to call out your name like it’s the sweetest fucking thing in the world.

You suddenly feel like you’re intruding and do your best to escort yourself as quick as possible from the bathroom, face hot and limbs resembling jelly. You retire in his room since its closest and sit on his desk, unfortunately now having to wait until he is out because you were too much of a wuss to grab your phone in the first place.

You’re in awe to think this is the first time you have ever caught Jungkook, let alone be the source of his sexual desires. Your mind failed to replay any moment where Jungkook seemed even remotely interested in you, so you just idled stupidly, twiddling your fingers while you hear Jungkook shut off the water in the other room.

Not wanting to risk the chance of him showing up naked, you voice your presence, “J-Jungkook! I’m in your room. Can you grab my phone?” you call out rather squeakily. In the midst of your question, Jungkook audibly startles and shuffles around before appearing in the doorframe, making eye contact with you.

Eyes wide and skin reddened from the shower, he doesn’t say anything as he walks inside and chucks your phone onto his bed. Facing his back towards you, he manages a sentence.

“When did you come back?”

“Uhh,” you start, distracted by the amount and depth of the tattoo that stretches across his back and shoulder blades. A traditional Japanese-style design is perfectly canvased on his muscular back; lotuses, peonies, and chrysanthemums perfectly mixed into black waves and god it must have taken hours for him to get it done. Only the flowers are featured in different shades of deep reds and pinks, everything else colorless or purposefully outlined, leaving some of his tanned skin peeking throughout some part of the tattoo.

“I’ve been here for a little while,” you finish, oblivious to the fact that you should have just lied to save yourself from the conversation that you were now trapped in.

He turns to face you, “Okay, uh. Do you want to take your phone?”

“Oh my god, when did you have these many tattoos?” you fluster shamelessly, raking your eyes over the ink that traveled on his chest and down his arms. It strictly stopped on his pecs, but it didn’t halt you from giving a once-over to his muscular stomach and indented “v” that peeked above his towel.

He quirks a brow at your gawking, “For a few months besides my arms. Are you done being mad now?”

You stand up and head towards his bed to grab your damned phone when you can feel him loom over you. Squeaking in surprise, you turn towards him, “What?”

“Y/N… please don’t leave,” he pleas, and you swear you’ve never heard him use this tone before.

“I was a jerk, I shouldn’t have said that to you. But Taehyung is an asshole and I meant it in a caring way. I don’t want to see you hurting from him anymore,” he says sincerely, “Don’t go.”

And even though this isn’t the right moment and for once, Jungkook is being sweet, the realization hits you.

“Jungkook, are you… jealous of Tae?” you say half-jokingly.

The question itself looks like it punched Kook in the stomach, as his face turns pink and he blinks too many times.

“Why the fuck—” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Kookie, do you like me? Is that why you hate Taehyung so much? And in the shower—”

“What do you mean ‘in the shower’?” his face flushes, already knowing the answer.

Shit, you didn’t mean to include that.

“Look, Y/N, I don’t want to ruin anything we have right now because, hell, we live together and it’s already fucking awkward that you like Taehyung and caught me legit getting off just minutes ago,” he starts, somewhat level-headed.

“Kookie, I don’t not like you? You’re just so annoying sometimes and you act like you’re my brother or something and it’s really off-putting, and I mean I find you attractive, super attractive! But I didn’t think you liked me or thought of me just as a friend so I tried to stay away and this is just so surprising to me like—”

More than anything, Jungkook just kisses you so you would stop talking, but then his hand reaches the back of your neck and pushes you in a little and you lay your hands on his wet chest to stable yourself and it just feels so good.

But then you realize what the hell is happening and push him far enough to break the kiss.

“Kookie, wait—” you sigh, but Jungkook’s eyes roll and his hand now travels in your hair and tugs it slightly.

“Stop fucking calling me that,” he growls, and you swear the room is so much hotter than it was ten seconds ago.

His hair is drenched and pushed back off of his forehead, leaking droplets of water onto his shoulders and sliding down his firm body. His eyes are glazed in lust, hooded, and keep flicking between your eyes and your lips. This literal sex god disguised as your roomie left your mind in goo and everything was just so confusing.

“Jungkook?” you respond quietly, secretly hoping to appease his request. You unconsciously reach out to draw circles on his taut stomach, even daring to reach so low to feel the jut of his hipbones.

His eyes flutter at the touch of your dainty hands and closes the distance by pushing his hips against yours. You look back into his eyes, so innocent and Kook has a sudden desire to ruin you right now and show you who you belong to.

He pretends to think for a moment, rolling his head around and showing off his thick neck until he answers, “Mmm, too casual.”

You tilt your head in confusion and tease him a little, “Are you a ‘baby’ kind of person?” He makes a distasteful face and leans in closer.

“I don’t want you calling me any pet names that you give to just anyone either,” he droops his head into the crook of your neck, his close warmth causing you to shudder as he whispers in your ear, “I just want to be yours. So how about ‘daddy’?”

You flash a face of surprise and fail at hiding sheepishness. He chuckles at how rigid your body is; have you really never called someone “daddy” before?

“Yeah, I think I like that. Don’t you, Y/N?” he says, purposefully trying to humiliate you.

Jungkook was crawling under your skin and he knew it, taking pride of his control over you. However, you caught him off guard when you gave him a taste of his own medicine.

You hook your fingers under his towel and purr your most seductive, “Okay, daddy,” and even though it sounds so foreign leaving your mouth, you give Jungkook a run for his money.

He’s utterly stunned for a moment, unaware of how confident you could be but appreciating the second of dominance you had.

Hips still stuck together, you notice your effect has made him very… excited. He grinds his growing bulge into your lower stomach and you gasp in surprise. He tried his hardest to control himself, but it would only be moments before he went animalistic on you.

“Okay, love, I’m going to give you five seconds to decide if you really want this or not,” he says lowly, sliding his large hands underneath your shirt and trailing dangerously close to your breasts.

“Five,” he starts.

It suddenly dawns on you that you have plans with Taehyung, and that you should have been there awhile ago. It also settles in your brain that this is really fucking happening, and that there would be no turning back if you let Jungkook continue.

“Four.”

Your dilemma seems to display on your face because Kook looks worried. He almost looks hurt that you are really contemplating taking Taehyung over him.

“Three?” he questions, and you decide that you don’t need the full five seconds.

You lace your fingers through his wet hair and pull him into your kiss, relieving him of his worries and licking at his lips. He groans at the feeling and digs his fingers into your bare skin, relishing how small and soft you are under his hold.

He pulls away and takes his hands out of your shirt but presses his forehead against yours, “You know what you’re asking for, right? If you think I’m going to fuck you lightly just because I love you, you’re wrong,” he warns.

Although you should be more concerned about how he just confessed to you, you nod your head frantically and decide that you can properly talk about things after he takes care of you.

“Great,” he states, abruptly grabbing your shirt that he gave to you and ripping it apart so vigorously that the buttons fly, admiring the fact you weren’t wearing a bra underneath and immediately sucking marks above your chest.

“What the hell, Kook! That was my favorite shirt!” you whine, but he continues without a care.

“I promise I’ll give you my whole closet if you just shut the fuck up,” he spits, placing his hand on your waist and guiding you down to sit on his bed.

“Lay back,” he instructs, and you do just so, letting your head loll to its side. Contrary to your assumptions, his comforter smells like detergent mixed with his cologne and you wish you could bury your face in it, suddenly appreciating his natural scent.

Laying down like this, you can clearly see the outline of Jungkook’s bulge underneath the towel and you audibly gulp; you wondered how large he was.

Jungkook suddenly latches his hands under your knees and pulls you until your ass reaches the end of the bed, your startled yelps making him chuckle.

Kneeling and leaning his head between your legs, he licks and places kisses on your inner thigh, leaving you gasping in response. You feel yourself getting hot and wet, and you hope Jungkook can’t smell your arousal.

But as if he read your mind, he uses a thumb to circle your clothed cunt and you hiccup at the sudden friction, “You smell so good, Y/N.” In one swift motion, he removes your shorts and throws them across the room. Even though your thong is black, Jungkook can clearly see the growing wet mark and his chest grows with arrogance.

“Jungkook, please do something,” you cry, frustrated with his slow movements.

Pulling your panties to the side with his thumb, he blows cool air onto your heated core and you twitch.

“What did I say about my name?” he questions cockily.

“Fuck, daddy, please eat me out, finger me, anything! I’m begging,” you squeal.

He doesn’t take another second to lick a broad stripe up your folds, properly tasting your juices and humming in approval.

“You’re so sweet, baby,” he says, licking a few more times before wrapping his arms around your thighs so they lay on his shoulders, “get ready.”

You moan shamelessly as he sucks with brutal force, wet slurping sounds flooding the room. The man eats you out like you’re the first thing he’s tasted in weeks, rolling your clit behind his teeth with his tongue then soothing the pain by licking it tenderly. By instinct, your grab his hair for leverage but he doesn’t care.

It doesn’t take long for your stomach to pool with nerves, but as Jungkook feels you twitching in pleasure, he pulls away.

“I didn’t wait two years for you to cum in two minutes, baby. Hold it off,” he threatens, leaving you wriggling in disappointment.

After what he deems to be long enough, he presses his tongue flat against your nub once more, slowly moving in circles as he introduces his middle finger into your slit. You mewl as he hooks it upward, searching for the perfect spot. Once he finds it, you arch your back off the bed and groan.

“Fuck, how are you this tight? I only have one finger in and I can barely move around in here, princess,” he says, resuming his attack on your g-spot and watching you squirm in awe.

Watching him with his eyes sealed shut and jaw clenching as he focuses on your pleasure was a scene you wanted to burn into your memory. Distracted from the visual unfolding before you, he opens his eyes slightly and catches you staring, biting your clit as punishment.

“Ah, fuck! I-I’m too sensitive,” you complain, but ruthless as he was, he counters by adding his ring finger into your folds. You cry at the burn and stimulation.

Removing his mouth from your swollen clit, he slides up so his face is level with yours. He kisses you roughly, forcing you to taste the bittersweet juices he had accumulated by colliding your tongues together. He speeds his hand up, his palm repetitively hitting your sweet spot and fingers curling in.

He drinks up your moans, refusing to take his mouth off yours as he slams a third finger into you, causing you to grunt in discomfort. You grab his wrist, pleading for him to stop, but his strength overwhelms yours by a longshot.

“Kookie, please, it hurts,” you whimper but he only clicks his tongue.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry, but daddy has to do this. I won’t fit otherwise,” he sympathizes. You look at him, puzzled.

After scissoring his fingers in you enough so you’re properly stretched, he responds to your curiosity by removing his towel and you’re honestly afraid.

“Oh, Jungkook. That’s not going to fit in me,” you exclaim. He uses the juices on his fingers to pump his impressive length a few times, his hands barely able to encompass his whole girth. The tip curved slightly to your satisfaction, head a pretty pink and leaking precum.

“Yes it will, sweetheart. I know you can take it,” he coos, “can you do a favor for me now? Will you turn around?” he questions, helping you shift so your head was towards the edge this time, your view now consisting of a close-up on his cock. Once settled, you realized what he wanted and started to voice your denial.

“Shh, baby, you’ll be fine. Just a little, okay? Keep fingering yourself for me,” he commands, using his hand to position his dick at your mouth, “open up.”

Reluctant for a second, you obey by opening your mouth enough for him to place his tip between your lips. His head was velvety, closing your eyes as you maneuver your lips around him to suckle on it. He hisses at the feeling but keeps himself from moving while you lick and taunt his slit, eventually enveloping more of his shaft into your mouth.

With this, he slowly begins to move in and out of you, letting you adjust to his size as he gets deeper and deeper into your throat. Once he builds speed, you rest your hands on his thick thighs, warning him; as if the action sets him off, he grips both of your wrists with his hand firmly and starts to fuck your throat harshly.

You gag at the sudden change of pace and his hips stutter but you regain your composure and allow him to snap his hips faster and faster. You occasionally swallow and hum and he groans loudly, his noises of ecstasy setting your loins ablaze.

Your eyes prickle with tears, falling down your soft face and Jungkook thinks you’re the prettiest thing ever. You feel his cock harden in your mouth and you use your tongue to lick his underside, welcoming his climax.

He stops right before he cums, pulling out quickly and twitching as you gasp for air. In the midst of him slamming into your mouth, he managed to split your bottom lip, blood and saliva smeared across your mouth; mixed in with your tears from earlier, you looked like the epitome of sex. He moans at the sight and grabs his phone from his computer desk.

“God, you look so pretty when you’re wrecked,” you hear the shutter of his camera and your eyes snap open, “I really should show my friends this, you know. They all think you’re so erotic and sexy. They’d be stoked to know they let me fuck your throat as hard as I did.”

You glare at him, “P-Piss off.”

Stroking himself, he nods his head, “Move.”

You sit up and adjust yourself so your head is laying on his pillows, Kook following closely as his presses kisses to your breasts and hovers above. His body heat radiates onto you while water drips from his hair and the mix of hot-and-cold with your heady lust is making everything feel like cloud nine and you just wish Jungkook would have told you he liked you earlier because you were missing out on so much.

Jungkook, totally infatuated with leaving every inch of your ribcage covered in wet kisses, eventually comes to his senses and sits up. He grabs both of your ankles and hoists them in the air, transferring them to one hand and using the other to hook onto your panties and slides them off in one swift action. He stares for a second, admiring the way your ass looks with extended, thin legs displayed only for him, and it takes every ounce of restraint to keep from eating you out again.

Using your semi-wet panties, you briefly see the cogs in his mind spin before he leans over you again, “Once I start, I promise you I won’t stop, but this is to keep your pretty little hands from interfering” he says, using your thongs to tie your wrists together and the burn of the fabric makes you wince.

“Keep your hands above your head, got it?” he says intimidatingly, and you nod in agreement.  With this, he places your legs above his shoulder and makes eye contact.

“Hold on to that headboard for me, yeah baby?” he says with a pant, aligning his dick with your entrance. You don’t quite understand but you do so, struggling slightly with the bondage.

He doesn’t take any interest in “going slow”, and immediately shoves half of his length in and starts at a fast pace, causing you to mewl on impact and grip the wood of his bedframe firmly.

“O-Oh my god! Jungkook, d-daddy, holy shit,” you pant, feeling Kook’s thick cock fight its way through your tight walls, pulsating as he pumps within you.

He growls with each thrust, proud of the moans that spill out of your mouth because of what he’s doing to your body.

“How is it, Y/N? Tell me what it feels like,” he ponders, varying between quick, sharp thrusts and skilled grinding.

“It feels so, so good. Ah—you fuck me so well, I already wanna cum,” you admit, your pussy leaking profusely as evidence. You throw your arms around his neck, raking your nails across his back and he hisses in sweet pain.

When he finally starts to speed back up, you hear a continuous chime in the distance. Focusing on it a little more, you notice it’s your phone buzzing right beside your head and your stomach coils.

“It’s Taehyung,” Jungkook growls, slowing his movements to a dangerously slow rate, “go ahead and answer it for me, baby.”

There was a change of tone in the air; a sudden animalistic spike of arousal that seemed to stem from Kook, and his cocky grin didn’t ease you at all.

“W-What?” you stutter, horrified at his question.

In an instant, his hand is around your throat and he squeezes just enough to make it hard for you to catch your breath. Meanwhile, he slid his dick completely out of you, leaving you clenching around air.

“I fucking said to answer it, bitch. Or I’ll cum right here on your stomach,” he growls, and you cry in frustration at the sudden loss of contact. When he raises an eyebrow to question if you’ll listen, you bob your head to show your subservience and struggle to grab your phone with hands tied together.

Unfortunately, you manage to answer it in time and hold it up to your ear, “H-Hello?”

Smug with your obedience, Jungkook eases into you once more, this time, not stopping until he’s buried to the hilt and you have to bite your lip to the point of reopening your wound to keep your cries in.

“Y/N? Where are you? I thought you were coming over, kitten,” Tae drawls. Jungkook makes a face of disgust at his pet name for you and snaps his hips viciously, making you squirm at the action.

“Oh! Uh, about that… I can’t anymore,” Kook releases his hold on your neck and instead kneads a breast, giving you a wink, “I forgot… I had to do some work stuff.”

“Aw, you should’ve told me, I would’ve come over instead,” he pouts. Jungkook suddenly dips down to take a nipple in his teeth, suckling and biting it to hardness while gliding smoothly into your g-spot.

“It’s okay! Um, I’ll just text you later, okay?” you attempt to close the conversation. Jungkook, however, doesn’t like how rude you’re being to Taehyung and slams so hard into your core that you drop your phone, letting out a loud whine of ecstasy.

“Y/N? Are you okay? What happened?” you faintly hear Tae’s voice through the phone. Trying to end the call, Jungkook beats you to it and snatches it from the bed, holding to your ear and mouthing a “don’t touch”.

“Ha! Yeah, sorry, I dropped my phone.”

“Okay… Are you sure? You sound really out of breath,” he voices with concern.

You don’t pay too much attention to the question as Jungkook readjusts so your knees are up to your head and his face is right next to your ear, using this position to slide deeper into you, kissing the end of your walls. Sliding all the way out until just the tip remains, he rockets his hips forward and repeats the cycle with diligent speed.

You moan flagrantly, hiccupping with every snap of his hips and burying your nails into the wood of his bed once more.

“What the—What the fuck is going on, Y/N?” you hear Tae seethe through the phone.

Kook bites your lobe once before grunting quietly in your ear, “Tell him whose slut you are now, yeah? Tell him how much better I fuck you than he does,” he dares.

You whip your head towards him, looking for any hint of sarcasm and flush when you realize that he’s serious.

“What? No!” you hiss.

Jaw clenching and seething at your insubordination, he yanks himself out of you and manhandles you onto your stomach, lifting your ass up and you have no room to protest when your fucking hands are tied.

As if you weren’t humiliated enough, you unexpectedly feel a slap on your bare ass, causing you to cry in discomfort. Jungkook spanks you again, not even stopping to soothe the pain before whispering a, “Fucking say it.”

Simultaneously, he buries his cock deep inside of you, forcing all of his length into your tight hole and making you shriek into the sheets. Squelching noises echo throughout the room and your mewls are filled with pure bliss as Jungkook fills you to the brim.

As he holds the phone to your ear once more, you’re too fucked-out to care anymore, whining a, “Taehyungie… I’m sorry, but Jungkook is fucking me so well right now,” another snap makes you whimper euphorically, “it feels too good, ah! So much better than anyone has ever filled me…” you admit.

Jungkook chuckles darkly and kisses your spine, licking stripes up your shoulders. You can hear Taehyung startle for a second, genuinely confused and angry before you hear the tone indicating that he hung up. Kook, joyed to know the distraction was gone, chucks your phone across the room and replaces his hands to grip your hips.

His fingers are digging so hard into your skin that you’re sure bruises will appear the next morning, but you welcome every mark he’ll give you. You want the pain, the pleasure, everything Jungkook gifts. You want Jungkook.

Solely focused on your pleasure now, Kook pounded into you with so much force that his bed croaked with every piercing punch to your sweet spot. You whimpered and whined and howled and cussed profanities, all sweet music to his ears.

Even though your hands were bound, you attempted to touch your clit, wanting to send yourself over the edge as soon as possible. You didn’t know how much longer you would last.

Before reaching your pelvis, Jungkook slaps your ass hard and you scream, his hand now pushing your back down even further.

“I know you can cum untouched, baby. Let daddy finish you,” he snarls, so you let your hands fall limp under you.

Jungkook watched as his length disappeared into you, your arousal dripping between your thighs and all over his lower stomach. He has a desire to watch you unfold in front of him, and repeatedly fucks against your cervix until he feels you tighten around his cock. He groans at the feeling and speeds up as you start to wail.

Your orgasm comes, all strings snapping and electricity shooting throughout your body as Jungkook strains to keep your limbs still. You’re seeing stars and feel incredibly light; you don’t think you’ve ever came this hard.

Jungkook feels it too, sadistically pumping into you and making you sob in overstimulation. When you attempt to pull away from him, his grip forces you back.

“You’re going to take all of my cock, so stop fucking whining,” he barks, and you shake your head.

He ignores you, pistoling into your core anyway. The liquid you excreted from your previous climax made it easier for Jungkook to fuck you faster than before, and it doesn’t take long before he’s spilling into you.

He whines into your back, squirting his last spurts of semen before softening and taking himself out. Without his support, your legs fall and he topples over beside you, panting and wiping sweat off his forehead.

Your body writhed in its high, taking a few minutes to slow your breathing and roll over to face Jungkook.

“You okay?” he asks, scooting closer to your worn-out body and removing your hair from your face.

Your eyes were heavy and it was hard to stay awake but you endured a single nod.

“No no, baby. Stay awake. C’mon, get up,” he starts, but you groaned in exhaustion. You didn’t think you could move for the rest of your life.

Jungkook sighed, heaving himself out of bed and leaving the room. Although drifting in and out of consciousness, you’re aware that he left and you can’t help but feel used. Was this all just some sort of gimmick to get you to sleep with him? You knew better than to think this way, but you had lingering anxiety anyway.

Kook comes back a few minutes later; seeing you in your sleepy state, he rolls and scoops you up into his arms bridal-style, escorting you out of his room. You wake up enough to realize he’s holding you and you figure he’s taking you to your own bed.

You pout, “Why didn’t you let me sleep in your bed, you little shit?”

“Because we’re not sleeping right now. You smell like sweat and cum and—gross, you’re leaking cum everywhere and—we’re going to take a bath. Is that okay with you, princess?” he drawls with sarcasm.

“What? We are?” you say, utterly stunned.

He doesn’t answer as he slips you into the tub, the water on the verge of being too hot, but still bearable. He slips in behind you, placing his legs on either side of your body and easing in with a satisfied moan. You feel… awkward.

“You look uncomfortable,” he says blatantly, “is everything hitting you now?”

Jungkook was worried that you would change your mind after fucking, that you wouldn’t have any lingering feelings besides lust but he acted nonchalantly, preparing to take the worst.

“No! Well, yes. I don’t know,” you admit.

You can feel his stature sulk a little, disappointed that he was probably right.

“I just don’t think I’ve ever had post-sex care,” you say, “Taehyung normally just falls asleep or leaves.”

Jungkook seethes at this, already imaging thousands of different ways he could murder the bastard with his bare hands.

“Do you normally take care of all the girls you fuck?” you question out of pure curiosity.

“Sometimes? I don’t know. I haven’t been with a girl in a really long time. Not since we’ve lived together, I guess,” he responds without hesitation. You perk at this, searching your brain for any time you’ve caught Jungkook with a girl at home. You’ve never actually seen any, but you figured he would have when you weren’t here, at least.

Jungkook can probably sense your confusion because he laughs.

“I’ve been waiting to get in your pants for years,” he teases, planting kisses on your shoulders, “it was so fucking worth it.”

You flick his forehead, making him glare at you.

You rest your head on his chest, the water finally cooling to a comfortable temperature. You can hear Jungkook’s heart thumping in his ribcage.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Kookie.”

“It’s whatever.”

“I hate you for making me answer that call though.”

A/N: After they showered they probably went at it again and went out on dates and saw taehyung at least ONCE so (-: happily ever after

Wow! You made it!

If you’re that one friend, text me right now and tell me how good it was.

If you’re not, I hope you enjoyed love you xoxoxoxoxo.

[duncvns]

5, 6, 2, 12 with Duncan if that's alright?:)

5.) Say it again

You’ve been testing Duncan all day, calling him endearing little names, and ignoring him when he would call for you. You didn’t mean for it to get too out of hand. It was all in good fun, in your eyes. 

Duncan, on the other hand, was fed up with your antics. And, with one more endearing little pet name, you were sat over his lap, skirt hiked up past the swell of your ass. 

“Say it again,” He demanded, breath hot and erection hotter on your skin. 

“Say what? My bratty boy?” You teased, pushing him to the edge but not allowing him to topple over the metaphorical cliff, too afraid he would show no mercy on your poor ass. His hands were quick to rip your sheer white panties off of your thighs and land a bruising smack to the skin. 

You bucked down at the unforgiving sting, a low cry escaping from your throat. “Do you wanna say it again, Y/N?” 

You bit down on your bottom lip roughly, cheeks tingling as your murmured out, “Oh, why are you so angry? My bratty, bratty baby boy?” 

6.) Don’t lie to me

“Where have you been all day?” He stalked closer to you, eyes dark with anger and disappointment. You snuck out while Duncan was at the gym with one of his friends, promising yourself you’d be back before he came home. 

You didn’t dare open your lips, afraid the smell of the cigarettes you consumed would greet his nose. He left you with strict instructions not to leave when he wasn’t around, that you were not to leave the home when you weren’t with him. It was for your own safety. 

“Y/N, are you mute?” 

“N-no,” You whispered. 

“What were you doing, then?” He stepped closer to you, eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes. 

“I was just t-taking a walk.” 

“You were taking a walk? Don’t lie to me,”

“I-I’m not,” You whimpered, looking down at your feet. In quick succession, he attached his hand to your chin, forcefully lifting your head up. 

“You’ve been smoking?!” 

2.) If you’re gonna keep running your mouth like that, I can think of a few ways to make you shut up.

You weren’t exactly sure what you did to end up here, hands cuffed tightly around your back, Duncan eyeing you warily from the edge of the bed. All you knew was that you willed yourself to shut up. Words spewed from your mouth like vomit, the toxic words coating your tongue as you cursed him out. 

All too suddenly you were being dragged to the bedroom, promised with the act of punishment. However, you weren’t done, even when you were tied up, completely at the mercy of your partner, you still hated him for what he did and you were going to make sure he knew. 

“You think I’m just gonna shut up, Duncan? No! You left me here, claiming you had to work. But guess what? I don’t believe you!” 

“What do you think I was doing from nine to noon today then?” He asked, his tone bored. 

“The hell if I know! Probably fucking that twinky little secretary like I know you are!” He rolled his eyes, busy tugging off his work pants, retrieving just the thing to shut you up. 

“If you’re going to keep running your mouth like that, I can think of a few ways to shut you up,” he drawled, tugging his semi-hard cock from the confines of his tight boxer briefs. “Now say, please daddy.”

12) I’m very good at providing distractions

Ever since you’ve known Duncan, you knew he worked too hard. Every day from the break of dawn to the dawn of sunset he was in his office, typing away quickly at his Mac. Sometimes he would let you sit in while he worked, but you had strict instructions to not bother him when he was busy. 

Today was different for you, however. It’s been just over three weeks since you and Duncan had sex, his latest project swallowing his nights also. You were determined to distract him. The amount of work he was doing wasn’t healthy anymore. 

“Duncan?” You peeked up from your book, only to see him disregard your call. You repeated his name, this time, you juiced a reaction from him. 

“What, Y/N, you see I’m busy.” He barked, tapping his keyboard roughly. You pouted, setting down your book and making your way to his lap. He cursed quietly at your presence, sitting back in his chair. “Are you... serious?” 

“I dunno. I just thought that maybe you’d enjoy some... time.” You whispered, toying with the buttons on his simple black button-up. 

“I’m extremely busy right now, you know I don’t tolerate distractions,” 

“That’s disappointing because I’m very good at providing distractions,” 

Tagging a few babes who might appreciate this- @ghostiesbedroom @langdonsrapture @bbyduncan @michael-langdon-appreciation @coollangdon @sojournmichael

[weerd1]

Star Trek DS9 Rewatch Log, Stardate 1908.18: Missions Reviewed, “The Muse,” “For the Cause,” and “To the Death.”

“The Muse” begins with Jake Sisko watching the people boarding the station and creating backgrounds for them as possible fodder for writing (ah, that’s where I learned that).  He sees a mysterious woman, who even seems to make eye contact with him, and later she finds him in the replimat. She says her name is Onaya, and she has always liked artists, even mentioning some recent greats whom she says she helped. 

She offers to help Jake if he comes by her quarters later.  Meanwhile Odo is faced with a pregnant Lwaxana Troi who is on the run from her Baby Daddy. Apparently that race practices strict gender separation for children, and though her husband told her he would not, because the baby is a boy he will take the child from Lwaxana at birth. She and Odo concoct a plan to marry to get rid of the guy, who sure enough shows up on the station. The plan works and he leaves mother and child alone. 

 Onaya and Jake meanwhile are hanging out in her groovy quarters, and she gets him to start working on his novel. As he writes, it becomes ever easier for him, but Onaya is feeding off his creative energies, draining him, and landing him in the infirmary.  Onaya appears there and sneaks him out, hiding Jake in a storeroom as he writes and she vampires him. Sisko finds them and phasers Onaya, who turns to energy and escapes. Meanwhile, Jake has completed the first draft of the novel “Anslem,” the book that the episode “The Visitor” told us would be his classic work.

This is an episode that doesn’t seem to have a whole lot to do for either of these stories so it can’t work out which is the A story and which is the B.  They seem to get even time, and neither of them are especially compelling.  Not for lack of trying however.  Odo does get some character development as he works out his feelings with Lwaxana, and the mention of “Anslem” does recall the best episode of the series. The guest stars are top notch with 80s SF icon Meg Foster appearing as Onaya, and Michael Ansara—formerly Kang the Klingon—as Lwaxana’s angry husband.  The episode never quite gets anywhere for me, though it certainly isn’t “bad.” One more quick aside: the nurse caring for Jake is played by Patricia Tallman, whom I have mentioned before. She was Nana Visitor’s stunt double, and of course the character of Lyta Alexander on that other space station, “Babylon 5.”

“For the Cause” has Odo and Eddington come to Sisko to tell him they think there’s a Maquis smuggler on board; they think it’s the Captain’s lady friend Kassidy Yates. This is in the midst of security tightening as the Federation is about to provide some industrial food replicators to Cardassia to help them with all the Klingon-caused shortages.

 Sisko is initially resistant to the idea Kassidy could be involved, but has the Defiant trail her next mission. Sure enough, her ship goes off course, and potentially meets with a Maquis vessel. Meanwhile, Garak keeps running into Tora Ziyal and is curious as to whether Gul Dukat’s daughter wants him dead. When Kira threatens Garak telling her to stay away from the girl, he takes that as a sign Ziyal is legitimately seeking company, and Kira would have no problem seeing Garak dead.

 Sisko becomes determined to stop Kassidy Yates personally and captains the Defiant in pursuit. Eddington doesn’t want to be in on arresting the Captain’s girlfriend and asks to stay behind.  Kassidy’s ship enters the Badlands like before, but this time seems to just keep circling in a holding pattern. After several hours Sisko has enough, decloaks and boards the Xhosha (Kassidy’s ship). She is caught red handed, but doesn’t know why her Maquis contact hasn’t shown up. Sisko realizes distracting him is the target. The return to DS9 leaving the Xhosha behind, to find that Eddington is in fact Maquis, and has stolen the replicators intended for Cardassia. He says he has joined the Maquis because the Federation has become as insidious as the Borg, now punishing planets for the one unforgivable sin: “wanting to leave paradise.” Kassidy returns to DS9 after dropping off her crew, and turns herself in, knowing she’s on her way to a Federation penal colony. She promises Ben she will be back, because she loves him.

A perfect example of the type of character work that makes DS9 great. The Kassidy Yates relationship has been building for a couple of years now, so when Odo and Eddington accuse her, we think “no way.” Well, “way” and what’s brilliant is her support of the Maquis doesn’t really make her a villain. She sympathizes with their plight, which is indeed a sympathetic cause.  She though is set up by the Maquis who IS a villain, and that’s our Commander Eddington, who has played both Kassidy and Sisko. Often just one of those “extra” Starfleet guys, he’s now made himself important, and that’s something that plays well here.  Later on he will really try to set himself up as Sisko’s nemesis, but he’s just a guy who betrayed his oath, and Sisko won’t let him forget that.  Well executed episode that moves along the Maquis storyline well and sets us up for some future tales.

“To the Death” starts with the Defiant returning to DS9 to find the station has suffered a devastating hit from the Jem’Hadar. 

Sisko tracks the ship back into the Gamma quadrant where they find a damaged Jen’Hadar ship that isn’t the one they seek. Beaming over survivors they get a squad of the Dominion’s soldiers and a Vorta named Weyoun. The Jem’Hadar who attacked DS9 have actually gone rogue, and this crew was hunting them down. Weyoun reveals to Sisko that the Company of soldiers they seek have broken off because they have found an Iconian Gateway- a portal that would allow them to transport to any planet in the Galaxy instantaneously, and they plan to use it to free themselves of the Dominion and conquer all they can.  Sisko grudgingly teams up with Weyoun and company, knowing they can’t be allowed to have access to the Gateways.

 When one of the Jem’Hadar stops following orders and perhaps begins to sympathize with the deserters, the Jem’Hadar “first” Omet’iklan kills him on the spot, and questions why Sisko doesn’t maintain order through lethal punishment. Weyoun wonders if Omet’iklan plans to rebel too. They attack the stronghold and manage to destroy the Gateway. There is a tense moment when it seems the allies will turn on one another when Omet’iklan kills Weyoun and decides to stay with his troops on the planet, hunting down the rest of the traitors. When asked why he killed the Vorta, it was for “questioning my loyalty.”

Some good call outs here back to the second season of TNG with the Iconians, and Worf mentions he was on the mission that found their homeworld (The TNG episode “Contagion”). We get a good look at the inner workings of the Jem’Hadar, finding out they are all test-tube babies, there are no females, and they are lethal within 3 days of birth.  Those who live past age 20 are considered “honored elders.” 

There is definitely a concerted effort NOT to make the Jem’Hadar sympathetic here. And of course, most importantly, we get Weyoun! Jeffrey Combs returns as the Smarmiest Vorta. According to the Memory Alpha website, Weyoun was intended to be a one-off, and Combs brought so much to it, the writers invented the idea of Vortas being clones just so they could bring him back.  Also of note, the Jem’Hadar killed for his insolence is played by Brian Thompson, himself a multi-guest star having played six different characters across several Trek series, including sharing another episode during “Enterprise” with Jeffrey Combs. In that outing Thompson is Romulan Admiral Valdore (for whom the Warbird in Star Trek: Nemesis is named) and Combs as the Andorian Shran, whom I still want to see have his own series.

NEXT VOYAGE: Julian Bashir gets another chance to play frontier doctor while visiting a planet suffering from “The Quickening.”

[fosterskeeper]

♂ y u such a dick Frankie's dad?

Send me a ♂ and a question and my muse’s father will answer it.

          ❝ I guess I deserve that ❞ A nervous chuckle escapes his lips. Sucking in a SHARP BREATH, Francis NEVER enjoyed talking about his SHORTCOMINGS. He knew without a DOUBT in his m i n d that Marcy would be ASHAMED of him && how he had TREATED Frankie, he couldn’t tell you how many times he’s CRIED OVER that very THOUGHT, he had been a HORRIBLE FATHER to his daughter, Francis liked to H O P E that he was a BETTER PERSON now, sure he had SCREWED UP with Frankie. 

          He shuddered, the brunette didn’t like to linger on those HORRIBLE MEMORIES, he had done so many of UNFORGIVEABLE THINGS to Frankie that he doesn’t know how to FORGIVE HIMSELF. He can’t TURN BACK TIME && ERASE those things from HAPPENING, but having Franny had given him another chance to be the BETTER DAD he should have been with Frankie && he can’t IMAGINE harming her in the ways he did in Frankie’s CHILDHOOD.

          He had been an ANGRY CHILD && grow into an ANGRY ADULT who was angry at his own MOTHER for her CARELESS && WILD BEHAVIOUR && how STRICT && OVERBEARING Mr. Harriman had been. It grows to be a PURE HATRED for the things his mother L O V E D && valued to PROTECT. He POISONED Frankie’s M I N D with thoughts that she wasn’t SMART ENOUGH to CREATE an Imaginary Friend all because he had an S O U R  EXPERIENCE with Mr. Harriman.

          Francis GUESSED he had ALWAYS been a bit of a DICK, he just hid it well IN FRONT of people. ❝ There’s no excuse for what I did. ❞ Frankie had the only one who had to DEAL with Francis’ TOXIC BEHAVIOR– Not his mom, Mr. Harriman, Dee or Franny… Just Frankie. It was ALWAYS just Frankie. For a long time he felt she was the ROOT of all of his PROBLEMS, she was the REASON for EVERYTHING. Of course, now he REALIZED that that wasn’t TRUE, Frankie had been a CHILD. 

          She didn’t do anything. 

          ❝ For a long time I was- I was really messed up and I took it out on Frankie… It felt like she was the cause of all my problems. I just couldn’t stop it- ❞ His voice hitched. ❝ It makes me angry that I thought it was okay to take out all of my pent up angry out on her and then say sorry like… Like that could fix her broken nose or heal those bruises- ❞ 

          His WORDS were c u t  o f f by the sound of small feet against hardwood, he smiled softly when a VOICE rung out through the air. ❝ Daddy ! I drew a picture for you ! ❞ The little girl came RUNNING IN at FULL SPEED, a piece of paper between her hands. A w i d e grin spread across her cheeks, small hands shoved the paper into his lap- it was a picture of Franny && her Imaginary Friend. (  He still was LEARNING to move on from his PREJUDICE VIEWPOINT. )  

          ❝ Awe, it’s beautiful, sweetpea ! Wanna send it to your big sister ? ❞ He hadn’t MAILED OFF Frankie’s letter yet. The little girl nodded EAGERLY. ❝ Do you think she’ll like it ? ❞ She asked, holding the LETTER against her chest with a HOPEFUL smile on her face. Francis nodded, patting her head. ❝ She’ll love it. ❞ The man helped lift up to reach the MAILBOX && slipped the letter inside. He planted a sloppy kiss on her forehead, she BROKE OUT in a fit of giggles. ❝ Ew, gross ! ❞ He smiled, taking her hand && walking her back to the house to make her an AFTER SCHOOL snack.

          ❝ I love you, sweetpea. ❞ 

         ❝ I love you too, Daddy. ❞ 

[everything-is-by-design]

Underneath Your Clothes

This is my first time posting fan fiction. Please, don’t hate on me too hard. I’m well aware that this fic is absolute garbage.

Word Count: 3.4k

Castiel x Reader

Warning: Angst, smut, and fluff, aspects of bdsm, some drinking

Reader is a half immortal celestial being / half human hybrid thing

Reader and companion fell through a portal into SPN!Universe and they are hunting an escaped creature from their world. They run into the Winchesters and Castiel during a battle (which I have not included because it’s just shit) and the boys and Castiel agree to help the reader and companion track down the creature. Reader has otherworldly healing powers, has ‘light magick’ abilities, ‘soul energy’ all that nonsense. So, after your companion makes you a potion to heal you after the battle, Castiel and Dean show up to the apartment the reader is staying at.

  A knock was heard at the door and you went to open it. Dean was standing on the other side of the threshold. “Well, hey, you’re alright.”   You nodded, “Yeah, are you here for your angel friend?”   Dean peered into the apartment, “Well, he flew here and I drove.” He then made eye contact with Leda, “I think we found a lead.”   “A what?” You asked as Leda took the papers out of Dean’s hand.   “Found more bodies across the city, eyes missing, and black blood,” He said.   “Fantastic, let’s go,” Leda said, as she left the apartment. Castiel followed and so did you. But when you tried to pass through the doorway, you ran into a barrier of light. You hammered at it but it just rippled against your touch.   “What? Hey!” You growled at them.   Dean and Castiel turned around. Castiel spoke, “What’s happening?” “You can’t leave me here while you go hunting!” You spat, speaking only to Leda.   Leda spun to face you, “You lost and incredible amount of light energy yesterday. That potion will take an entire day to heal you. I will not risk your humanity for the sake of your tracking skills. I can handle this without you.”   You shot her a death glare, “Leda, I will not turn off my humanity switch after seeing a few dead bodies.”   Leda’s long white locks draped over her shoulders and when she shook her head, her hair rippled. “You are under my protection. I can’t have you turning off your emotions when you’re this vulnerable.”   “Leda, please,” You begged.   “What did you do to her?” Dean asked, curiously.   “The bitch spelled the apartment so I can’t leave!” You exclaimed. You banged a couple more times on the barrier. You didn’t want to be alone. New world and all alone? No thanks. These were the only people you’d met so far. Please don’t leave me alone.   You saw Castiel’s eyes soften which made you think that he’d heard your silent prayer again. Leda put her hand on Dean’s shoulder and he eventually turned away and followed her down the hall. Castiel broke your eye contact and followed them. Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared after them. You stepped back and slammed the door shut with a brutal swing.

  Seven hours into your isolation, you had exhausted your movie collection, a couple video games and you were working on a very old bottle of whiskey. You plugged your phone into the stereo and blasted Daddy Yankee’s song Limbo. You grabbed the half empty bottle of alcohol in your hand and started to dance. You were still quite pissed at the fact that your traveling companion had placed you under house arrest but the whiskey was drowning out your sorrows. Two raps were heard at the door that you managed to hear through the loud music. You took a swig before you shouted, “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested!”   You continued to wiggle to the music until five more raps at the door were heard. You grumbled and walked to the door wrenching it open. Castiel stood by himself in the doorway. You preceded to shut the door on him, but he caught it. You marvelled at his ability to pass through the barrier, “Wait, wait. I wanted to apologize.”   You tilted your head to the side in fake disbelief, “What? For ditching me? Oh, don’t worry about that. It’s not like I’m used to it or anything.”   Castiel continued to stare at you, his hand still on the door. You opened it and pressed your palm against the barrier, which was still there. You took a deep breath and spun back around. You took a deep sip of the whiskey as Castiel entered the apartment and shut the door behind him, locking it. You narrowed your eyes at the action. You swayed on spot, taking another drink. Castiel looked to the kitchen where he spotted three empty Smirnoff Twisted bottles on the counter. His gaze shifted back to the bottle that was in your hand, “Humans don’t have a very high alcohol tolerance.”   You raised the bottle to him as if to cheers him, “Only half human, babe. Got immortal light in my body. Higher threshold for pain, heightened senses, higher alcohol tolerance.”   He watched you as you continued to dance to the Spanish music. You drank again, still completely in control of your balance which boosted your confidence. “I am sorry for leaving you earlier, especially after I heard your prayer. That was….unkind of me.”   You stopped dancing and turned to face him. You raised an eyebrow, “Huh. Strange how here angels feel remorse, and guilt. It’s almost like you have a heart.”   You walked over to him and got right up in his face, for the second time of you knowing him. “There are angels in your world?”   “Of course there are, they’re everywhere,” You said as you rolled your eyes. “Major buzzkills. No fun at all, well a select few are. I mean the ones I know do have fun, but that’s only because when I’m close to them, they feel more human.”   “Why?” He breathed, obviously not bothered by your proximity.   You placed you hand on his chest and revelled at the feeling of his light energy. “I don’t know. Gift from the Goddess, I assume. I could not tell you why, but it happens. I don’t know about here but our angels are very strict, and law abiding, and boring. Except the fallen. Now, those feather-brains know how to party!”   You stepped back and took another two gulps of your drink. His brow furrowed again, “The fallen?”   “Yeah, the angels who wanted to live on earth with humans. They didn’t want to follow the rules, so they left. Lost their white wings though, which kind of sucks I guess. But still very pretty. Do you dance?”   Castiel continued to gaze at you, questions flooding his eyes. He shook his head, “No, I do not dance.”   “Do you know how to dance?” You asked approaching him again, slower this time.   “No,” He said.   “Have a drink,” You offered. Castiel took the bottle from your hand and held it to his lips. He took several gulps while he kept his eyes locked with yours. He lowered it and placed it on the tiny table beside the couch. “Feel better?” You asked.   His chest rose and fell with every breath he took. “Why do I feel this way around you? I’ve been human before. I know what it feels like, but you make me feel very connected to the earth.”   You shrugged, trying not to feel anything towards him. “You don’t have to be here. You’re still an immortal angel. You’re just able to feel a little deeper than usual. I understand if you don’t want to stay. Nobody does.”   “Does everyone feel this way towards you?” He asked, stepping towards you.   You nodded, “Everyone, every creature feels drawn to me. Sam and Dean felt drawn to me too but humans don’t feel it as strong as Celestials, like you. No doubt it’s overpowering your senses. And that’s why you almost stayed today. You have a lot of self-control, colour me impressed.”   “Why are you so sarcastic?” He queried.   “Why do you think, Castiel? I’m an empath. I get to feel what everyone else feels. I am good for only one thing, to hunt and kill the bad guys. That’s how everyone sees me, so that’s what I do. And I block out the pain with sarcasm and humour, and booze. Sue me!”   You reached for the whiskey again but he caught your arm, “I think you’ve had enough.”   “Why are you even here, Castiel? Why do you want to be around me? I am a destructive force of nature. I am unrelenting and unforgiving. I have darkness in me.”   “You have a lot of rage,” He said, a small smile rising on his lips.   You gave him a look but then burst out laughing, so much you couldn’t contain it, and you hid your face in your hands. “I’m sorry. I get mean when I’m trapped in a box. I don’t do well in isolation.”   “I don’t think anyone does,” He said. He reached for the bottle and took another drink. “Hey!” You exclaimed, reaching for the bottle. He held you back effortlessly, like you were a very small bunny and he was a lion. “Dude, sharing is caring!”   A huge smile erupted on his face which made your stomach flutter, “Come on, you can do better than that.”   You debated your current position. Instead of fighting him, you turned around, wrapped your hand around his neck and danced against him. You heard him set the bottle down and he backed up into the wall as you moved against his body. You could hear his breath quicken was surprised to feel his hands on your hips. You spun and took his hands in yours and lead him to the middle of the living room. You put your hands on his hips and swayed them in time with your own. You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled widely when his hands returned to your waist. You even felt one venture to your behind as he pulled you closer to his body.   “See? I knew you could dance,” You said in his ear.   “Mmm,” He moaned into yours. It took you by surprise when he spun you around and slammed you into the wall. The music pounded as he stared down at you, an eyebrow raised. Fuck, he was beautiful. You averted your eyes and stared at what might be beneath his clothes. He lifted your chin and closed your proximity by meeting your lips with his own. An electric shock of pleasure shot through you and you kissed back with heat and hunger. He hoisted you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he flooded your neck with kisses.   “Fuck, Castiel,” You moaned against him.   He laughed, “I do like it when you say my name.”   You brought your lips to his ear, “It will sound even better when I scream it.” That was clearly all he could handle. After a shiver rocked his body, he took you to your bedroom. He set you down on your feet and you proceeded to shed him of his clothing. Coat, jacket and tie were on the floor. You ripped open his shirt and ran your fingers over his chiseled chest. You’re a gift. You silently prayed to him.   His smile made you melt, “You don’t have to do that. I’m right here.”   “Ah, but you see, this is just pure evil. I can pray dirty things to you whenever I want.” You smiled as you undid his belt.   He took off your shirt and gazed down at you, “That is quite cruel of you.”   “Hey, if you’re going to sin, you might as well go all out,” You said, taking off your pants and tossing them to the side. He let his pants drop to his feet to reveal his erection, confined by the fabric of his boxers. You were wearing a black bra and underwear, just plain and nothing special, but that didn’t stop his eyes from lighting up at the sight.   He approached you but you spun him around and pushed him onto the bed. He propped himself up on his elbows as he stared up at you. You got on top of him and rolled your hips against his sex. His head fell back and he gripped the sheets in his fists. You bent down and kissed his chest repeatedly while you worked him up. “Now, from what I’ve seen, you’re quite the obedient angel. Always do what you’re told.”   Castiel looked up at you, licking his lips. “Not always.”   “Oh really? Because you look quite submissive from this angle,” You said as you took off your bra and tossed it away. Your breasts fell onto your chest and the hunger in his eyes arose. “Or am I wrong?”   He grabbed onto your hips and flipped the both of you so that he was on top. His mouth was on your breast as his tongue flicked your nipple and he began to suck. His free hand had your other breast in a firm grasp. You moaned loudly, thankful that Leda wasn’t here. How awkward would that be? You laced your fingers through his messy raven hair, but he grabbed your hands and held them above your head. He snapped his fingers and your wrists locked above your head, as if some unseen force was keeping them there. You raised an eyebrow at him, Kinky motherfucker, aren’t you?   His lips met yours in response before leaving a trail of kisses down your chest and stomach until he got to your underwear line. You sucked in a deep breath when you felt his fingers tugging at the soft fabric until it was gone. You lay there helplessly, your core pulsating at an alarming rate. His mouth reached your sex and he ran his tongue up your slit gently, causing you to buck your hips into his face. “Patience, love.”   You struggled against your invisible bonds and sucked in air as you felt him spread your legs. He kissed each inner thigh until he reached your sex again and brushed his lips against it softly. You groaned against him and felt his laughter vibrate through your body. You couldn’t help but release the feathery nuisance that kept clawing at you. “Dammit. These are so annoying.”   Castiel looked up at the sight. The huge black wings protruded from your back and draped over the bed and onto the floor. Your chest rose and fell and you looked down at him, feeling embarrassed. His hands were on your face, making you look into his icy blue eyes, “Hey, they are beautiful. You’re beautiful.”   “Can I see yours?” You asked timidly.   He frowned, “They aren’t intact and not as full as yours.”   “Why not?” You asked, genuinely concerned.   “I…I fell. My wings are damaged,” He said. He released your hands and they flew to his face.   “Please, let me see,” You coerced.   He sighed and within moments our could see his own black wings, only they were beaten to a pulp, with many feathers missing. He hung his head in defeat. “It’s pathetic.”   You lifted his head, “I can help.”   He looked at you questioningly. You opened your mouth and released an orb of pure light. It floated between the both of you and Castiel stared at it curiously. “What is that?”   “Light magick, from my world. I have an unlimited supply. I can share. A little pulse like this won’t hurt me to lose if it means you are better. Open.” He did so and the small orb entered his mouth. Within seconds it plowed through him, filling his entire essence making an intense bright light shine in the room, so bright even you had to look away. Castiel cried out, but you kept ahold of him. When the light faded, you looked back to him. He was shaking and sweating. You took his face in your hands and kissed his quivering lips. That’s when you noticed, his wings were full and were extended the length of the room. They were still black but at least now they looked healthy. You were shocked at his response, “Fuck.”   “How do you feel?” You asked, a hand trailing down to his erection.   “Well, I…” He looked down, getting distracted by your wandering hand, “Well, that’s not fair.”   He worked his way down again to your clit and licked and kissed and sucked as if his life depended on it. “Ugh, Cas!”   Sad enough to say, it didn’t take much to get you off and it had been a while. You tried your hardest to hold back but you felt waves of pleasure threatening your control. Dammit, don’t cum yet.   He slipped a finger into your heat and you grabbed onto his head tightly. You rolled your hips again into his mouth. “You’re about to explode, aren’t you?”   “Ah! Yes! Fuck, I want to cum so bad,” You cried out to him.   “How bad do you want it?” He asked, now pumping two fingers into you.   Your eyes rolled back into your head, “Castiel, please.”   He moaned at the mention of his name, “Cum for me, Y/N. Scream my name like I know you want to.”   You immediately let go, and raised your voice as loud as you could muster, “Yes! Oh, Castiel, yes! Ughh!”   You felt him lap up your nectar which made you shiver with delight. As you rode the last waves of your orgasm, you failed to notice that Castiel had removed his boxers. He was eyeing you and out of embarrassment you curled your wings up over your face, hiding in the feathers. You could hear him laughing and he peeled your wings back, and removed your hands from your face. “I want you to be mine. I want your orgasms to be mine. When you cum by your own hands, I want you to say my name. Clear?”   You nodded, “Yes, Sir.” He growled at the sound of the word, as if it sent pure lust and pleasure through him. He smiled down at you, “Good girl.” “Please, Cas. I want you inside of me. Please.” “So desperate, aren’t we?” He gazed down at your form, placing his thumb on your clit and slowly rubbing in small circles. “Fucking hell, Cas. Stop teasing me!” You grumbled. “If you keep going that way, you’re going to regret it.”   That peaked his interest, “Oh?”   You gently grabbed onto his balls and rolled him over where he lay, wincing in defeat. You kissed down his chest until your lips found his erection. You ran your tongue up his length and swirled it at the tip, licking up the small trace of pre-cum leaking there. A heavy moan from the angel encouraged you to continue and you began to take him inside of your mouth. You pumped your hands up and down while you worked on the tip, bobbing your head. “Ugh, Y/N.”   You took your lips away which elicited a small whimper from the angel. You lifted your leg over him and slowly lowered yourself onto his sex. His head shot up and he stared at you as you rode him slowly. His fingers dug deep into the flesh of your hips and you could see the intensity in his eyes that he wanted you with every fibre of his being. You clawed at his chest, drawing blood and watched in awe as the wounds slowly closed up. He arched his back and matched your thrusts with his. You ran your hand through your hair before leaning down and sucking on his bottom lip. He moaned against you and flipped you over, pounding harder into you now that he was on top. He towered over you, with his hands on your hips as he completely buried himself in you. You reached for him and was surprised when he laced his fingers with yours and held your hand above your head. He was breathing heavily into your ear so you took the opportunity to bother him. “Castiel?”   He groaned, “Yes?”   You giggled, “Are you going to cum for me?”   You flexed your muscles around him and he pushed further into you than you thought possible in response. He didn’t answer though. So, you fisted your hand in his hair and yanked his head to the side. He made a sound out of pleasure, “Ah, yes. Yes, I’m going to cum.”   You encased him in your wings and kept flexing, feeling your second orgasm as it slammed into you. In turn, you felt him empty himself inside of you and he let out a cry as he thrust into you half a dozen times. A shudder passed through him and he collapsed on top of you. He nuzzled his face in your chest which elicited a chuckle from you. His wings draped over you both, like a black feathery blanket. You stroked his wing with your free hand, seeing as the other was still stuck in his grasp.   “Was…that alright?” The angel asked, murmuring into your chest.   You laughed, “You’re a god among men, Castiel.”   You felt him smile against your skin, “Well, I wouldn’t go that far.”   You squeezed his hand, “I would. You’re the best I’ve ever had. So much passion behind such a serious facade.”