#there hasn’t been ONE day without me thinking about Now I See Daylight

[someone-else-reading13]

guys,,,,,

someone yell at me

please

i’m begging you

[pimosworld]

Like nobody’s watching

Marc Spector x f!reader x Jake Lockley x Steven Grant

Summary- Marc comes home to your private dance and decides to join your intimate moment.

CW-NSFW,18+ MDNI, explicit, strip tease,lap dance,cursing,fluff,smut, dry humping,unprotected piv,fingering,piv cream pie, soft dom Marc

WC-2.3k

A/N- I know the pic isn’t Marc but we needed a chair for inspo. I will link a playlist below as a suggestion for the strip tease/lap dance. But you can certainly use your imagination.

Not beta read

Like nobody’s watching playlist

You used to dance alone when you were stressed. The way the music made you feel just made all the worries in the world float away. It’s so freeing, letting your body do what it wants, you don’t have to think about what you look like or where your feet go or if you look ridiculous. Alone in your own home when the stress of life got too heavy,you would dance. 

  Now you find yourself dancing for a very different reason. Alone in your boyfriend's flat, you’ve never been happier in your life. They were supposed to be gone on a mission for khonshu for another day or two, something that used to worry you but over time you got used to it. They would always come home, usually in one piece. Before they left on this latest mission they asked you to move in. Marc and Jake wanted to wait until they got back to ask but poor Steven couldn’t contain himself the night before they left and blurted it out after you’d spent hours making love.

  Move in with me…?

  Your hazy state and look of utter confusion had him worried. 

  Umm…move in with us? That's if you want to,of course you don’t have to. 

  Jesus hermaño give her a minute she doesn’t know which way is up. 

  Of course you said yes once you regained your bearings. The four of you agreed to let you stay while they were gone and then would move your stuff when they got back. 

  That’s how you find yourself in Marc’s shirt dancing in front of the couch without a care in the world. The orange hue casting the last of daylight among the flat is so calming and romantic. The scent of him overwhelms you as you’re lost in the music swaying your hips to the beat. 

  Marc is running on autopilot, the missions weren’t always this hard but sometimes khonshu had more than normal demands being that he was a god. He took over the body hours ago knowing Jake bore the brunt of the dirty work and Steven was still getting used to all this and he didn’t want to overwhelm him. He could hear the faint sound of music coming from his flat as he searched for his keys. An unfamiliar warmth pooled in his belly, he’s never come home from a mission with you here. They finished a few days early and he didn’t think to let you know first. He hasn’t had to communicate like this since Layla. He made a mental note to work on that. 

  He’s grateful you don’t hear the rustling of the keys or the door open albeit unsafe as he enters the flat he sees you. Bathing in the sunset light cast across the flat, wearing just his shirt and Stevens ridiculous socks, you’re floating around and he swears he could die happy at this very moment. To see you so comfortable and carefree in their your home. He feels something else building as you raise your hands above your head and sway your hips revealing the curve of your ass and those pink booty shorts he loved so much. You still don’t notice him leaning against the door as he palms his jeans to adjust the growing bulge in his pants. 

  You don’t know what’s got you feeling so bold, maybe the half a bottle of wine you had to yourself. You start to wonder what they would do if they were here. Would you dance for them? Would they think it’s silly? You start to slide your fingers up the side of Marc's shirt pretending you’re doing a strip tease, you can feel the heat pooling between your legs at your sudden surge of confidence. Just as you begin to lift your shirt over your head you hear the screech of the wooden dining chair. 

  You’re frozen to the spot, the only sound you can hear over the music is your heart beating wildly in your chest. You don’t dare turn around for fear of what might be behind you. You’re not sure at this moment why people always say fight or flight when there’s always the third option of freeze. As the song fades out you turn slowly in your spot, you’re met with the piercing gaze of your boyfriend sitting in the chair with a smug grin on his face. His dark eyes bore into you and the obvious erection in his pants tells you he’s been watching for awhile. 

  A million emotions flood you at once in what feels like minutes but is only a matter of seconds. Relief that you’re not about to die, embarrassed at your current state, upset that they didn’t tell you they would be home early. None of that really matters in this moment as he states you down like a lion stalking his prey. Is it Marc or Jake? You don’t dare ask, you’ll just wait for an obvious tell. As the next song cues up he reaches for the half-drunk bottle of wine and downs it in three gulps wiping the excess off his chin with the back of his hand. That didn’t help at all. 

  “I didn’t tell you to stop sweetheart.”

  “Hi Marc.” Your voice comes out half cracked and you clear your throat awkwardly. You haven’t spoken in hours, seeing as though you were alone.

  He chuckles dark and low, sending a shiver down your spine and a tingling in your core. “You know Jake wouldn’t have stood in that doorway for as long as I did, and he definitely wouldn’t be sitting in this chair.” Those things are all true but you couldn’t think straight after being caught so vulnerable.

  “Continue.” You know it’s not a question, you were already imagining doing this when you were alone. He obviously doesn’t think you look silly and the thought of him watching you gives you the push you needed. You turn around to face away from him as you begin to sway your hips again to the music. 

  Marc was feeling bold when he saw you dancing, as you started to undress he felt like he was intruding on a private moment. Yes this was his home but he was just standing there like a creep and had yet to make his presence known. He didn’t want you to feel embarrassed or startle you, I’ll just have a seat.

  The sound of the chair causes you to freeze as you slowly turn around; he can tell you’re studying his movements. He certainly had his differences from Jake but physically they were the most alike. At this moment you’re not thinking straight, it’s so obviously not Jake but he scared you so he can’t fault you. He sees the half empty bottle of wine on the table and decides to level the playing field.

  You’re still staring like a deer in headlights and he wants to make you squirm but he was the one that came home unannounced after all. The less time he takes to reveal himself the more time he will have with you. He’s hoping you’re feeling relaxed enough to not turn down his proposition. As you turn around he thinks he may have gone too far but you start to whine your hips again as if you’re the only one in the room. 

  You slowly start to lift the shirt above your head but decide to stop again. You want to draw this out and make it memorable. You turn to face him again and drop to your knees as you start to crawl towards him. You would feel ridiculous in this moment if not for the way his chest was rising and falling. You settle in front of him and place a hand on each knee, you run your fingers along his muscular thighs as you feel him tense beneath your grip. As you drag your body up his legs the friction of his rough jeans through the shirt makes your nipples hard.

  The music and the wine coursing through your veins is giving you a confidence you never knew you had. You straddle his hips as you tilt his head back, dancing just above where he wants you. You sink your hips down onto his cock strained through his jeans and give an experimental roll eliciting a moan from deep within him. The eye contact is sensual and intimidating all at once. You’re leaking through your panties for sure leaving a wet spot on his jeans. You give another roll of your hips as he bucks up to meet yours and his jeans catch your clit, the wanted friction causing a whimper to leave your mouth. 

  He smirks knowing you’ve lost some of the control you had over him and grips your waist tight with his hands as he brings you down again rocking you back and forth. He can tell you’re chasing the high as you bury your head in the crook of his neck, soft whimpers of his name leaving your mouth.

  “Come on baby I know you can come like this.” He says breathlessly in your ear.

  No this is not how this was supposed to go. 

  You smack his hands and will yourself to stop as you catch your breath.“If you can’t keep your hands to yourself I’ll have to stop. You wouldn’t want that now would you?” 

  He looks up at you wide eyed as he shakes his head. He’s never been so upset and turned on at the same time. He’s aching for release but you’ve never looked so beautiful and confident as you are right now. You both know he’s stronger than you but this need to submit has him reeling. This must be why Steven loves when you take control. You’re looking at him inquisitively and he’s wondering if you asked him something. 

  “Words.” He suddenly remembers and it's  not a question. 

  “No…please don’t stop, I can keep my hands to myself.”

  You take off your shirt and throw it to the side, you watch his pupils blow wide at your lack of bra and see him fighting to keep his hands at his side. You clasp your hands behind his head and play with the curls at the base of his neck. You raise your body from his lap and draw your breast up his face, dragging your pert nipple along his bottom lip. He opens his mouth slightly and lets out a ragged breath. The hot air in contrast to the cool flat causes goosebumps to raise on your skin.

  You slide off his lap and drag your teeth along his clothed erection on the way down, you watch as his mouth drops open and his hands white knuckle the chair beneath him. You take off his shoes and begin to work on his belt, he hastily helps you discard his jeans and boxers in one fail swoop and all but rips his shirt taking it off. His thick cock is leaking and angry and his resolve is quickly fading as he takes deep steady breaths. 

  You sit in his lap again facing away from him. Your thighs straddle his and you can feel the weight of him on your back. 

  “You can touch me now.” You’re breathless and you can’t hold out any longer. A gasp escapes your lips as he rips your panties as if they were made of paper. 

  “You better let them have a turn when I’m done, they’ve been very impatient.” He growls into your ear.

  “Wha-.” He doesn’t give you a moment to finish as he lifts you and guides you down on his thick cock setting a brutal pace. The pain gives way to pleasure and all you can do is hold on for dear life as he bounces you on his lap over and over. 

  “Is this what you thought about when I was gone?” 

  You can’t think let alone answer as the sounds of your pussy slamming down on his length fill the flat. He pulls your hair causing you to arch your back, his pace doesn’t falter as his hips thrust up to meet yours. You’re whining and moaning incoherent chants of his name.

  “Answer me.”

  “Oh fuck…yes.” You clench down on him as your orgasm steadily approaches, his cock throbs and you can feel his thrusts growing erratic. 

  “You're gonna come with me baby.” He’s panting in your ear as he reaches around to rub slow circles on your clit.

  “Marc…please.” 

  “Shhh, you’ve been such a good girl taking my cock so well. I’ll tell Jake to take it easy on you.” He chuckles in your ear knowing Jake would never do that. 

  His thumb quickly circles your bundle of nerves and you can feel yourself coming undone as he drags you back and forth on his thick length. You reach forward and gently stroke his balls,pressing your thumb to the base of his cock. He comes with a shout as he shoots hot ropes of cum into your walls, he’s relentless on your clit as your vision goes white and you’re screaming his name.

  His arms are wrapped tight around you as you collapse into his chest, both of you trying to catch your breath. His soft kisses to your neck help you steadily come back to your body. He’s still hard inside you as your cunt flutters, dripping his spend onto the chair beneath you. 

  “You’re perfect,you know that right?” As if this man isn’t aware of how perfect he is, you give his arm a reassuring squeeze and drop your head back to place a kiss on his cheek. 

  Aren’t you glad I asked her to move in early?

  Sí hermano 

  He’s somehow still hard but the mess between your legs is evident. You start to lift off him when a strong hand lightly wraps around your throat. His cock throbs and soft whimper leaves your lips. 

  “Princessa…es hora de mi baile.”

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated.

@bobfloydluvsblackwomen

[cocogum]

Why don’t the turtles just use cloaking brooches??

It’s clear to say that the brothers in a half shell can be excruciatingly horrible at concealing their presence when fighting out of the sewers.

As much as we’d like to think that they’re experts at hiding in broad daylight or during nighttime, we can’t help but admit that in most of those times, they have either been unnoticed by sheer luck or have simply encountered some humans who seem to somehow not question their looks.

Sure, it must be extremely difficult to hide some parts of themselves while fighting in front of the public so some instances where they’ve been caught couldn’t have been avoidable.

But in some cases, there shouldn’t have been any excuses.

Whenever one of the brothers (or all of them) decides to go outside for whatever reason, they somehow do not catch any attention to themselves when an errand goes horribly wrong or if they simply would like to hang out away from the sewers for a change.

This is surprisingly not the issue here.

The new yorkers are just unaware for some reason.

No, the real problem here is why don’t the turtles use cloaking brooches.

Ever since I watched the thirty-first (18A) episode named “Operation: Normal”, I began to wonder why the turtles did not adopt the newest method of concealment.

In this episode, April desperately wishes to at least have a normal day without anything abnormal ruining it.

Leo, who opposes that idea of hers, claims that that “dream” would be impossible to grant since she has always been a huge magnet for craziness.

He also adds to his explanation that he, along with the rest of his brothers, cannot bring her to any human places due to how they physically look.

That last comment of his piqued my interest.

Because as soon as Leo bursts her bubble, she, later on, meets a young Yōkai by the name of Sunita who is inconspicuously hiding her true appearance thanks to a mystic brooch.

When the trio for this episode learns that the new girl was non-human this whole time, they learn that her disguise was actually done by a cloaking brooch which is a mystic device capable of hiding its user’s true appearance.

After meeting the slime Yōkai, you’d think that the turtles would have learned that there is a better way to completely mask themselves from the public and can now use the same mystic brooches to easily roam around the outside world with no difficulties.

Well… that’s not what they did.

They still proceeded as normal and kept hiding in clothes to hide their skins.

So in other words, even when they found an easier way to hide their appearances from the general public, they still chose to stick with the old method.

The fact that the Hamato family kept their old ways and did not even attempt to at least test one brooch bothered me so much.

There were so many instances in both seasons where I could have practically screamed my ears off at the fact that some situations could have been avoided if they had some of those brooches.

And so, I wondered if there was even a point to all of this.

Why would the turtles deliberately not choose an easier way of disguising themselves?

This question started popping up in my head from time to time until I finally came up with two reasons why the green idiots don’t use them.

1) They would lose their iconic images

I am aware that if the turtles did adopt that way of camouflage, then it wouldn’t feel like we would be watching TMNT anymore since their struggles with avoiding attention have always been a key factor in their characters.

Not to mention that it’s always entertaining to see what kind of clothes they’d pick to hide in.

Due to this problem, I would understand from a fan’s point of view why the story hasn’t taken this route.

On another hand, however, making the brothers use some magic brooches from time to time wouldn’t necessarily ruin their iconic images since Rise! did change some elements about the world like the existence of Yōkais, Draxum and Big Mama being two of the turtles’ enemies, Karai being their ancestor, a younger version of Baxter Stockman known as Stockboy, Splinter’s past, the Purple Dragons being evil tech teens, the Hidden City, and so much more.

Because it’s extremely odd to see no one in the Hamato family talk once about the possibility of using cloaking brooches as a practical technique.

Of course, I’m not suggesting that they should use cloaking brooches at all times since I would personally miss their old-school ways.

They could be able to at least only use cloaking brooches during hangouts.

But at the same time, it wouldn’t hurt to at least make an episode exploring this topic.

A part of me would like this since I would want to see what they’d look like if they took human forms.

That is IF they take human forms.

2) The cloaking brooches might change them into their original forms

The thing about these four mutant turtles that separates them from any normal mutant, is the fact that they weren’t human before they got mutated.

Mutants like Meat Sweats, Splinter, the Sando brothers, Warren Stone, the DIGG band, Ghostbear, Hypno-Potamus, Stanley, Repo Mantis, and Todd Capybara all used to be human before receiving the injection.

We all know that a cloaking brooch is used to cover the true appearance of its user but the way it hides the true form of the individual is rather odd.

For humans who get turned into mutants, the cloaking brooch will hide their current mutant appearances in the way that they used to look like when they were human.

Mutants like Meat Sweats and the Sando brothers are examples of this phenomenon.

For Yōkais, the cloaking brooch will hide their true forms with a human appearance that matches their physique OR it might just hide the original body with an object like a toy.

Yōkais like Sunita and Draxum are examples of this situation.

As for actual animals who get turned into mutants, the ability of the cloaking brooch seems to be blurry.

We don’t really know what could happen if mutated animals use a cloaking brooch since we’ve never actually seen a case like this one happening in the series before.

The objective of the cloaking device is to conceal the supernatural facade and replace it with a normal appearance.

So if the turtles and other mutated animals like Piebald were to ever use this mystic device, the chances of turning into their original animal forms or humans would be a 50/50 scenario.

This means it would be possible for mutated animals to have the appearance of what they once were (in addition to the brooch pinned on them) or to look like full-fledged humans.

This could also explain why the Hamato family doesn’t seem to be trying out the brooches: it might be impossible for them to appear normal because they are a special case so they do not want to risk it.

.

.

.

To conclude, we have two possibilities as to why they probably don’t use cloaking brooches.

The first is because the rottmnt team simply wouldn’t let the turtles use those in case they’d lose their iconic appearances.

The second is because there is a 50/50 chance that if they use cloaking brooches, then it might not work exactly like how they had thought it would.

However, there is a third possibility.

Third, the turtles are huge idiots for not using the best solution right at their disposal and are wasting a good opportunity to hang out in the open with their human friends.

(Ngl I legit think this is an actual possibility cuz these turtles act like imbeciles every five seconds-)

Those options seem plausible and easy to believe but it’s clear to see that we’ll most likely never get a straight answer from the rottmnt team regarding this topic.

(Btw u have no idea how hard I wanted to bash my head on a table ever since I saw Mikey buy Draxum a cloaking brooch to hide him from the Hidden City police. LIKE THE GUY KNEW ABOUT THOSE MYSTIC DEVICES THAT COULD HELP HIM AND HIS FAMILY ROAM OUTSIDE BUT NOOO THE DUMBASS DOESN’T THINK TWICE ABOUT IT AND JUST WASTES HIS MONEY BUYING ONLY ONE.)

[sweetcloverheart]

Clover Rants Miraculously: Lila’s chronic bias consistency

I feel like the issue when it comes to Lila and her lies isn’t so much characters very easily believing her (I mean - it’s annoying, yes, but they’re running on kid show “lesson of the week” logic in those situations, so they get somewhat of a pass) - it’s the consistency of how often her lies are taken at face value, especially in situations where there should be some doubt at least? I get Marinette’s supposed to be the “Dogged levelheaded person who isn’t swept up in Lila’s deception and must persevere despite no one believing her” in the scenario, but she genuinely can’t really be the only one?

Alya thinking Marinette is being overly hostile towards Lila because of Adrien during “Chameleon”? Absolutely fair - Marinette has been openly jealous towards girls who show interest in Adrien before, and while she doesn’t take it to Chloe-levels of aggression, she’s shown she will often jump to hasty conclusions or go farther than she should when the boy’s involved. Plus Lila hasn’t openly done anything aggressive or harmful, so it stands to reason she’d give her the benefit of a doubt. Alya still thinking this even after “Gang Of Secrets” has her learn Marinette is Ladybug - Girl WTF? You’ve seen and experienced what happens when Hawkmoth thinks someone is connected to Ladybug and know Marinette has issues with lying/dishonesty - and yet somehow you didn’t connect the dots of “Marinette dislikes Lila and calls her a liar” and “Lila claims to be Ladybug’s best friend”? How does it not occur to her that Marinette’s dislike of her superhero-self’s “bestie” does not directly involve Adrien (especially now that her crush on Adrien has been transferred to Chat in season 5)? or at the very least question Marinette on why she’s so hostile towards someone she’s supposedly friends with in her secret identity’s life! You’d think if she was that concern/exasperated about the other girl’s behavior and wants her to see how “nice” Lila actually is, she’d sit her down and try to get to the root of what the issue is.

The class believing Lila on her fake environmental project with her “friend” Prince Ali in “Heroes Day” without question? Understandable - Wilder stuff has happened in their lives on the daily. Their currently out-of-country (to their belief) classmate teaming up with royalty to help fight pollution would not be the most outrageous thing to happen to them. Rose, who is in canon Ali’s friend and frequently exchanges letters with him, believing this without question - How? Did she assume Ali and Lila just hit it off during one of their off days and that he simply forgot to mention it in his last message to her? Or question him not telling her about the project either? Granted, I can assume he wouldn’t write down everything he did throughout the day/plans for the month, but you’d think Rose would have raised her hand after Marinette’s outburst and go “Actually, she’s right. Also, Ali never mentioned an environmental project to me. Are you sure you’re talking about him Lila?”.

A few people in class believing Lila’s lies about Marinette bullying her/tricks to make her look bad and pushing her down the stairs in “Ladybug”? A bit frustrating, but okay - they didn’t see what happen, and again, Lila doesn’t act openly hostile or cruel while Marinette has be consistent in her clear dislike of the former. A reasonable mistake to make if you aren’t the audience/didn’t have context for what occurred. Everyone, from Bustier to the dustmotes in the air, not only believing Lila, but also immediately jumping to have Marinette expelled without a proper investigation of events or even calling the supposed victim’s mother and getting her to the nurse considering she was apparently thrown down a set of large steps (and yet is somehow coherent and well enough to still walk around) - ...Seriously? They all just...believe Marinette’s tried to assault someone in broad daylight? Not a single person in the school went “Hey wait a minute - that doesn’t sound like something Marinette would do! Lila’s obviously lying.”. No one thought it was strange that Marinette, who’s worse response to her own bullying has been to call her bully useless, apparent hates Lila (and her apparent threat to her future with Adrien) so much that she threw her down an entire flight of stairs? No one thought to defend Marinette’s integrity when she was accused of cheating on a test? Or of stealing Lila’s things (especially considering what happened in “Rogercop” when Chloe went around accusing people of stealing her bracelet). No one is asking “Did Marinette actually do this?” And even then, Lila immediately invalidates herself and her case by making up that “Liar’s disease” to get her back into school - that should have had the teachers immediately looking into Lila’s other stories and her “prolonged absences” and the rest of the class being hesitant to trust her anymore since she’s now “admitted” that nothing that comes out of her mouth is actually the truth. Lila should have either lost some friends or some of her status with this stunt and have her claims come under scrutiny since she basically all but admitted to always be lying - and yet even after, when Marinette points out Lila isn’t telling the truth about something, everyone just shakes their heads and laughs “Oh Marinette, you jealous goober. If only you could cast away you crush on Adrien, you’d realize how honest and lovable Lila is like the rest of us!”

Like, it’s one thing to have the cast temporarily hold the idiot ball because it’s unfortunately necessary to help make an episode plot work out - it’s another when you constantly force them to act OOC just so you can make Lila out to be this master manipulator whom Marinette’s completely helpless against (and then have her be told she can’t/shouldn’t expose her while the rest of the cast wonders why the girl who was just expelled under false charges is being openly hostile to the girl who admitted to making up the whole thing that got her expelled in the first place).

[dalchiid]

Regarding the last chapter it feels like eons have passed since Jungkook last spoke and and I have to say his one-liners are quite bitting. His words hold a lot of truth, but they’re bitting nonetheless. It just goes to show how observant he is of everything that’s going on despite his apathy to most things and he’s so funny without even trying.

As for chapter 37, “giving y/n the benefit of the doubt” is exactly what I would describe Taehyung’s approach. Firstly, it’s so cool that he can control people’s emotion, but it’s such an ironic power to have given his propensity towards anger. Anger issues aside however Taehyung seems pretty chill when you’re on his good side that is, so let’s hope y/n stays there.

Secondly, Yoongi is right. That was a loaded question lol but he still managed to give pretty great advice. To think about it, y/n hasn’t really gotten to see much of how Hoseok interacts and cares for his brothers since he always seems to spend every waking minute that they’re together worrying about her.

Just to play devil’s advocate, if we take a step back and analyze y/n’s means of escape, it’s really all to get away from Hoseok right? But compared to her old life at the Baek’s, she’s actually living pretty well at Bangtan estate. Even if she does escape where will she go? She knows absolutely nothing about the state of the world because she’s been sheltered for the entirety of her life, and not even a pretty princess soft way of life. So she doesn’t have much skills outside of maid/housekeeping work, which means her career options are limited as is and the money she has now isn’t gonna last forever (that is if she even still has access to it). I guess the point I’m trying to make is her current life is one full of leisure and it’s not the hell hole she’s made it out to be. Jimin aside, all the other brothers are actually pretty chill and tend to mind their business. By now, y/n would also have a lot more freedom to do as she pleases if she didn’t make Hoseok into such a paranoid mess by trying to escape. And even after one escape attempt and a potential second, he’s been pretty chill about the whole thing and has given her space to move about without him being there.

Considering the idea of upward mobility, Hoseok has given y/n a chance to truly explore life on her own accord, rather than working to the bone, or maybe even getting kicked out for one reason or the other before she had the chance to turn into a wrinkly old maid working for the Baek’s. So, yes he’s keeping her captive, but he’s also taken a lot of her wants and needs into account and has provided her with everything she’s asked for thus far. He’s not perfect. He’s obsessed, possessive, and delusional, but he’s not the pure embodiment of evil she’s trying hard to paint him as in her mind. Because if the latter was the case she’d be locked away in some secret dungeon by now never to see the light of day ever again, much less have time to walk around in broad daylight, locking lips with Namjoon while enjoying garden views and plotting her escape.

— cloudy anon ☁️

Y/N may not think he can easily turn into an enemy because of how apathetic he is but with how observant Jungkook is she should be careful with that.

Because of this Taehyung can become an ally. As long as she doesn't do anything to try and hurt Hoseok but we already know how Y/N feels so 😬

I knew I wanted one of the brothers to have that power and it only made sense to me for it to be Taehyung because of his problems. I liked the irony of it!

If Y/N were to see Hoseok interact with his brothers more she might have a different opinion of him. Or at least it might be a little skewed. She already has it in her head what type of man he is because of what he's done with and to her but who knows? She might change her mind one day.

That's the thing. Y/N doesn't really have a plan. She just wants to get out. That's all she knows. Can she leave and find a place close by to hide in? Sure but she doesn't have a plan further than that. She thinks she'll be able to find a job easily to help her out but who's to say she'll get it? We all know how hard it is to get a job and with her lack in experience she'll have an even harder time getting one.

Hoseok has helped in letting her live the good life. There's no doubt about that. Is it what she wants? Not with him. If she would have been with Namjoon and not Hoseok she probably wouldn't have such an aversion to the life her captor wants her to live.

He just wants the best for her and seeing how lenient he's being with her shows how much he cares because he can easily do what he did to the other girl and keep her drugged and locked up. He's really trying with Y/N but of course she doesn't see that. She has her reasons to be upset but sometimes you can't help but to see where Hoseok is coming from too.

[interviewsbyjoe]

Lou, 34

It was an early morning, mostly because I lost an hour of sleep due to daylight savings and recovering from a slight hangover after a fun night out with friends at The Eagle. It was my first time visiting in a while and while my body dysmorphia didn’t kick in, I had a good time. I made my way to Brooklyn that morning to meet up with Lou. Lou is 34 years old and an acquaintance from college. I ran into him a couple of weeks prior at a bar and he was as kind and sweet as I remember him. 

The last time I had a conversation with Lou was when he was 27 for my 20 Questions series. So I met up with him in his studio in Dumbo where we got to chat and I got to inquire about his life, what’s changed, and what hasn’t.

Joe Rodriguez: How are your 30s going so far? Lou V: Great, they’re the best years of my life

JR: Would you say that it’s better than your 20s? LV: It’s different than my 20s, but I feel like I have a lot more freedom in a lot of ways.

JR:  How old do you feel? LV: I feel 33. First of all, I think it’s a beautiful set of numbers and I think that it comes with age and experience and a greater degree of wisdom than you’d have when you were turning 22. It comes with more clarity and what you desire in life, it comes with that experience and it comes with more freedom. I feel like I sort of have. I don’t care as much about what people think as I did when I was 22. I make more money than I did when I was 22 and I wake up in the morning feeling less pressure when I was 22 because you were really trying to make it in life. I feel like I’ve landed in a space where I’m happy and comfortable with who I am as a person, as a professional. I’ve always had the best life, I‘ve always worked really hard and been in amazing situations so even when I was 22 I was super happy, but I’m even more happy if you can think of it that way.

JR: Do you think you’re peaking or think about plateauing? Or can it only go up from here? LV: I feel like I haven’t peaked. When you think about peaking in life, high school was not it for me so I have, through my art and a series of experiences in my life, have come to embrace a couple of philosophies - one of them being “The best is yet to come.” I think that through this experience that I’m receiving from my craft, I’ve learned that life will only get better and things will only get better and I think that’s the key to my optimism and happiness.

JR: So you’re originally from New York. What do you love most about it? LV: You can be whoever you want to be in New York. You can just disappear into the background and go out with your friends one night and the next, go out by yourself. I remember being a kid and taking the ferry into the city without anyone knowing and just looking for gay men because they were not visually present where I lived growing up in Staten Island. I think all of that makes New York such a special place. There’s a hustle, grit, determination, and opportunity about it. Nowhere else in the world do I think there’s as much economic opportunity as in New York City which in my opinion is the key to freedom.

JR: Do you think you would ever leave? LV: Never say never, but I think I’m very happy here and I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else at this point in my life. I do hope to one day be an internationally recognized artist - that’s my life passion that I’m working towards right now. So you never know.

JR: What do you hope your 40s will look like? LV: I hope my 40s are as good as my 30s and 20s. I hope I’m a little wiser, a little more mature. I see life as having different buckets. So for me, there’s fitness, family, work, art, and friends. The bucket that's not full is love. I have a lot of platonic love with my friends that I very much care for, but I don’t necessarily have the true love of my life that I wake up to every day. I’m dating, but single which is fine because I enjoy my singleness but one day I hope to have a shared experience so whether I find it or not is another story.

JR: How is life on a scale from 1-10? LV: It’s a 10, I have so much to be grateful for. I have a beautiful life, I couldn’t imagine my life being better. I wake up every day and I’m grateful.

JR: What is the title of the current chapter of your life? LV: In The Studio

JR: What would you title your 20s? LV: At the Bar

JR: What’s something you wish you knew about finances when you were younger? LV: Money comes and money goes. I’m not great at managing my finances but I’m becoming much better at it. I prefer to just enjoy my life and not worry about having a million dollars in my bank account, I could care less about that because I could drop dead tomorrow and I’d rather know that I’ve lived a happy, healthy, and fun life to the fullest rather than have money in the bank account.

JR: How do you measure success? LV: Based on my happiness. I’d rather be an administrative assistant and live a happy life than be a CEO and hate my life. Somewhere in the middle is where I’d like to be.

JR: Fill in the blank: “The world would be better with more ______ in the world” LV: Understanding. There’s so much division among people. It’s gotten much more polarized and people aren't talking to one another and there’s a diminishing sense of togetherness among people is what I’m observing. I don’t think there’s enough attention on the middle and because of that, there’s no interest in getting to know one another and understand one another and the hardships we all go through.

JR: Fill in the blank: ________ is my favorite season because… LV: Summer because I get to go to Fire Island, I think it’s such a special place. If you had told me when I was 17 that I’d be on the beach with my closest friends for a week and doing family dinners and being silly all the time, I would’ve never believed it.

JR: What are your thoughts on the dating landscape today?  LV: In New York City there are so many distractions because you meet one guy and maybe you’re talking to five others and then you forget a conversation you had with someone because you’re on another. There’s no lack of smart, talented, handsome, determined guys in the city and that’s what makes New York such an amazing place, but finding the right one is like a chemistry experiment. 

My beef right now is how many people are in open relationships making the busy marketplace noisier. It just makes it a little difficult to settle down and I think as I get older, I’ll get more fixed in my ways and need space and time to work, do my art, see my family, go to the gym, and see my friends that it gets harder for me to invest in someone.

JR: What does an ideal night for you look like? LV: It’s funny, I feel like as I get older I get less wild. It would be going out to a really nice dinner with friends and enjoying good food, drinks, laughing, and maybe going out to a bar afterward. But for the past two nights, I’m in at 11 reading so I can enjoy the weekend.

JR: Do you believe in love? LV: Yeah, of course. I had two beautiful relationships in my 20s that were extended three years each and I felt very lucky to be with the two people that I met and I loved it.

JR: Describe what the feeling is like LV: Being in love is somewhat clarifying, it felt secure in a lot of ways. Having someone present to celebrate you, to laugh with you, to cry with you, to wake up next to you is really beautiful. There’s a lot of work that goes into love and making it special

JR: How do you mend a broken heart? LV: It comes with time and for me, staying busy.

JR: How do you show someone you love them? LV: Being present and checking in and telling them. I think it’s important to tell the people that you love that you love them.

JR: What’s one red flag and one green flag in a potential partner? LV: A red flag would be doing something unkind or mean intentionally, making someone feel less than. A green flag would be a beautiful smile and a gaze when you’re together when there’s silence.

JR: What are three things you love bout yourself? LV: I love my determination, I love my persistence, and I love that I’m a caring person.

JR: Describe your kid self in a couple of words LV: Daring, Sensitive, Social, and Colored within the lines

JR: Do you think that kid still exists? LV: Yeah, very much I look at old photos of myself and see myself. The only thing I could ever wish is that I would've known then that life would be so beautiful now.

JR: What advice would you give to your teen self? LV: Continue to be yourself and don’t ever try to be something that others are expecting of you.

JR: Would you consider yourself confident? LV: Yes, I think I’m overly confident which I think is a key to success. I don’t let anything get in my way of me trying.

JR: Where do you think that comes from? LV: I think it’s something I was born with. I was born a confident, outward person.

JR: What advice would you give someone who’d like to be more confident?  LV: Just get out of your own way. We have one life to live and you don’t know how long it’s going to be. If you’re not confident in yourself, no one else is going to be confident in you and it’s only you that can get out of your own way. Try something new and if it doesn’t work, just know that a lot of people fail at things and failure is good. Failure keeps your feet on the ground. It also helps you understand what you like, what you don’t like, and what can go differently.

There are so many things you can workshop in your daily routine whether it’s going up to someone at a supermarket to try to ask them on a date, or painting a painting and putting it on Instagram saying it’s available for purchase. You won’t know unless you try.

JR: Do you think a symptom of getting older is caring less about what people think? LV: Yes and no. I care about what people think about me, I hope they think nice things. I think it’s important for us to care about what people think about us because there's a reality in what people perceive of us. It may not be 100% true, especially with your social media persona. I want people to think I’m the nicest guy and that’s what I try to embody every day. I try not to be a mean person. Yeah, we make mistakes and say stupid things sometimes, but I would never intentionally be mean to someone. If I die tomorrow and someone put “he was a nice guy” on my tombstone, I’d be the happiest. There's a misconception that being nice won’t get you far - but it’s about kindness. It’s not about being nice, it’s about embodying kindness, and embracing it as a life philosophy is very important.

JR: As an artist, do you ever find yourself suffering from impostor syndrome? LV: I don’t think so I think this is part of my confidence factor. Impostor syndrome is not something that I keep in my vocabulary because nobody was born to be what they are and they have to work at it. If you’re not believing in yourself, no one is going to and everyone starts somewhere.

JR: Where do you hope to be in the next six months? LV: I hope by then I will have a show for my art.

JR: Where do you hope to be in five years? LV: Life is so good right now that if I can continue doing what I’m doing now in five years I’ll be very happy.

JR: How would you describe the relationship you have with yourself? LV: Loving. I love myself in a way that’s respectable, and challenging. I love myself in the sense that I accept who I am, I don’t regret the things that I do, and I don’t wish that things were different. I’m just happy with who I am, where I am, what I have, and with where I go.

JR: Fill in the blank: “Life’s too short to _______” LV: Not do the things you wish to do

JR: What’s the most important lesson you’ve learned so far? LV: Keep an open mind

JR: What’s the hardest lesson you’ve had to learn so far? LV: Life is not always fair.

JR: Name three things that bring you joy LV: Family, Art, Friends

JR: Name three things that make you angry? LV: War, Poverty, Injustice

JR: Fill in the blank: Love is ________ LV: Kind

JR: What is the best piece of advice you want to leave the world with? LV: Take care of one another.

[huge-enthusiast]

Miraculous fic recomendations!!

This is just an excuse to show all my bookmarks? Yes. Yes, it is. I'm pretty sure most of this fics are really popular, but try see if you find something you didn't knew about!

All of the fics will be rated Teen and up audiences or lower. Also if I don't put the author's tumblr is because they didn't put it in the fic or/and I couldn't find it.

Pairing: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug

knowing you by emsylcatac (they are not really the author of the fic but that's the account that says in the fic, the actual author doesn't have an account).

After dropping their transformations months ago, Marinette and Adrien see each other for the first time after being apart. They've both left too much unsaid and have to work to pick up the pieces of their confused hearts.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal but mostly ladynoir, light angst with happy ending.

the last day on earth by Reiaji

The first time Marinette sees Chat Blanc, she's fourteen years old. The second time, fifteen—the third time, seventeen.

The closer she grows to Adrien, the harder it is to save him.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, kinda heavy angst, hopeful ending.

tell me something i don't know by carpisuns (@carpisuns here on tumblr)

Do you think it still means something? To love someone, even if the universe said you had to?

The odds of having a soulmate are about negative one billion (or something like that). But somehow, like they always have, Marinette and Chat Noir find themselves together. They’re ready to finally tell each other everything, but it turns out that even soulmates have to keep secrets, and while their bond draws them together, duty forces them apart.

Chapters: currently 17/28 (WIPs can be exhausting but this one is 100% worth the wait!)

Mostly marichat but almost all of the lovesquare sides make an appearance, soulmates au, mostly fluff but it can get angsty if it wants to.

One Thing After Another by SKayLanphear

Marinette notices that, sometimes, Adrien acts a little out of the ordinary--like the time he stood in a cardboard box for no reason, or when he actually hissed at Nino. It's only when she starts to notice the similarities between Adrien and a certain feline that she begins to get suspicious.

Basically, Adrien acts like a cat when he probably shouldn't.

Chapters: 15/15

Mostly adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, miraculous side effects (by both sides wich is really cool!), it's fluff with a lil tiny angst for drama.

This would take some getting used to by Codango (@codango here on tumblr!)

Adrien peeked out from behind the chimney even as the magic of his own Chat Noir mask fell away.

She was still visible, her dark hair bobbing under the street lamps a couple blocks away.

“Marinette.”

Adrien blew out a confused breath. His fiery Ladybug… was the quiet little mouse who sat behind him in class?

“What. The.”

This… would take some getting used to.

Chapters: 8/8

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Adrien's part, awkward flirting, just fluff, nothing to worry about.

comfort food also by Reiaji!

In Marinette's house, cooking is a language of love, and Marinette loves Adrien more than most.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette with a little of ladynoir, super super fluff, a lot of insight into Marinette's chinese heritage.

The right side of his face by walkingonthestars (@hamsternamedmarinette here on tumblr!)

Marinette and Adrien are able to remain in their new seats in the back of the room at the end of Chameleon.

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette, fluff with light angst.

it's a long way forward so trust in me by aloneintherain (@captainkirkk here on tumblr!)

“You’re not the only strong one around here, Chat,” Marinette said. She looked a little winded, but she wasn’t struggling to hold him up.

This close up, he could see the freckles on the bridge of her nose. He could see how that smug smile lit up her eyes. He could feel the strain of her arms—and wow, okay, he really wasn’t the only person around here with muscles.

Six times Marinette carried Adrien (plus one time he carried her).

Chapters: 1/1

All the sides of the lovesquare! Fluff with LOTS of mutual pining.

a fight that you were born to lose also by aloneintherain

When the prosecution starts throwing around the word victim in reference to Adrien, he has to stuff his hands under his thighs to keep himself from bolting out of the courtroom.

Adrien had felt unsafe during those last few weeks, but, until he had woken up and seen Father silhouetted in his bedroom doorway, that had only been paranoia. Father was controlling and cold, but he wasn’t hateful. Adrien was isolated. He was often hungry. And some weeks ago, when he had snuck out to visit Nino, sitting thigh-to-thigh on his bed while Adrien cried in that silent, crumbling way of his, he hadn’t argued when Nino put a hand on his shoulder and said, tentatively, That’s abuse.

But Adrien remembers being small and Father touching his hair after he’d aced another test; Father holding his scribbled drawings like they were something precious, and framing them around his office; Father, dressed as Hawkmoth, his eyes wild behind the mask, lashing his sword against Adrien’s baton; Father, collapsed against Mum, crying into her ashy hair.

Adrien finds out Gabriel is Hawkmoth, and Gabriel gets to bring his long-waited plan into action.

Chapters: 1/1

This one doesn't really focus in the ship that much as is an Adrien character study and an exploration of his relationship with his father, but they're still there so I put them here. Really heavy angst (this is one of this fics that haunt me in the middle of the night) with a happy ending. ❗TW: parental abuse, eating disorders❗

Supercut by LNC

Marinette loves her friends and Adrien can't deal.

Chapters: 1/1

Post-reveal lovesquare, again light angst, an exploration of Adrien's insecurities, Marinette Dupain-Cheng deserves the world, happy ending.

Madame Snare by jettiebettie

“Sounds like a lot of work for nothing. She should take this as a sign to have a relaxing weekend with no responsibilities.”

“It's a lot of work she put her whole heart into. It wouldn't be right for it to go to waste,” Adrien whispers to him. The look on Marinette's face is enough to cause Adrien's own heart to ache. If anyone deserves the satisfaction and pride from a job well done, it's her.

“Too bad there isn't anyone else who can walk in those death traps,” Plagg says. Adrien hums in thought, tapping his chin.

“I could.”

Chapters: 1/1

Marichat, episode-based, Chat Noir in a dress!!!, light angst but it's mostly just idiots being idiots and a lot of fun.

in the same sun by peachcitt (@peachcitt here on tumblr!)

"It’s hard to believe that I saw you last at the peak of summer, when the sun was close and warm - and so were you. It should go without saying that I miss you. I miss you something terrible."

//

"It’s been seven months to the day since I’ve seen you. I wish you were here more than anything else."

Two letters, signed with initials instead of names, found in Paris, France.

Chapters: 1/1

Ladynoir, just angst, that's it, written like letters. No ending, just pain.

an uncurtain discovery by Missnoodles (@ladyofthenoodle here on tumblr!)

When he returns from school on Wednesday afternoon, Adrien discovers the darkness in his own home. He struggles to come to terms with it. To his utter mortification and delight, Ladybug is nearby to rescue him.

(He does not discover that his father is supervillain. That will happen on a different Wednesday.)

Chapters: 1/1

Ladrien, it says it's crack, and don't get me wrong, is super funny, but I also found it sad as fuck?

An Open Secret by Kasienda

Adrien whirled around toward Marinette. She smiled at him.

He couldn’t smile back. He stared at her like the dumb blond model that he was often accused of being.

Something shifted in her expression. And her warm open Marinette smile transformed into Ladybug’s grin. He was looking at Ladybug right now.

He knew Ladybug’s name!

Her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

And he couldn’t say anything! Not to Marinette! Not even to Plagg, who had confided two weeks prior that Master Fu was growing increasingly paranoid since the location of his home and hideout had been compromised. Their master had apparently decided that Chat Noir and Ladybug would have to give up their miraculouses if they ever discovered each other’s identities.

It wasn’t fair!

...

A fic where they both know, but can't openly talk about it.

Chapters: 4/4

Post-reveal... but is it? Mostly adrienette and ladynoir, fluff with light angst and them being absolute idiots at hiding their secret identity.

golden (like daylight) by okayanna (@anna-scribbles here on tumblr!)

Friendship, Adrien decided, shaking off the mental image of Marinette’s hurricane eyes and hesitant mouth, parted in a small, careful “o.” He had a very strong friendship with Marinette. That was all.

or

Adrien thinks a lot about words, love, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Chapters: 1 + epilogue

Adrienette but has lots of ladynoir, another Adrien character study because I hate myself, it tries to not be angst but the writing will punch you in the guts and make you cry, it's so good.

Strangers in the Bright Lights by poodles (@ladybeug here on tumblr!)

Adrien is about two drinks in when he sees a girl at the end of the bar wearing black cat ears. It's kind of weird, so he watches her, and although it's crowded he can see her face when she turns around. She’s wearing a Chat Noir mask. He takes a quick look around- nobody else is wearing a mask. Just her.

Adrien finishes his gin martini and heads over to her. He could use some company tonight anyways, he hasn’t told anyone he’s back in Paris and Nathalie won’t arrive in town for another month. And it’s been a rough day, okay? A rough move! He’s not sure he wants to be back yet, and he spent most of the day in the Agreste mansion sorting through some photographs of his father he found in the study. Maybe he wants a drink and some stranger to tell him he’s pretty! That’s not a crime, is it?

Chapters: 1/1

Adrienette but it's also ladrien??? I think??? It's super super angsty but they're both drunk the entirety of the fic so it's also really funny.

Pick-Up and Chase by also SKayLanphear

After she accidentally trips into Adrien and apologizes about "falling for him," Marinette learns that he's no match for cheesy pick-up lines--whether they were unintended or not. And while she finds it flattering that he turns into a flustered mess with only a few words, Marinette comes to regret making him uncomfortable. That is, until she learns he's Chat Noir. At which point the phrase "just deserts" becomes a permanent fixture in her everyday plans.

A story in which Adrien is flustered, Marinette is smooth as glass at dropping lines, and Chat Noir gets the romance he was always asking for--even if he doesn't quite know how to handle it.

Chapters: 10/10

Adrienette with one sided reveal by Marinette's side, it doesn't say it in the tags but I'm pretty sure the characters are much older than they actually are in the show, so much fluff and so much flirting.

Pairing: Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe

Nino Has Done Nothing To Deserve This by GuardianKarenTerrier (@guardiankarenterrier here in tumblr)

It's nothing, really- just an innocent comment, a joke. But when they hear it, Nino and Alya come to a realisation.

There were, in retrospect, dozens upon dozens of hints. Now that they're suddenly aware of all their friend's flimsy excuses and rushed explanations, they're not only sure how they've missed it, they're not sure how anyone else has either. They realise that it had to be magic protecting their friends- and that same magic has ceased to work on the two of them.

Well, this means they'll just have to start watching over their friends themselves.

Chapters: 7/7

This is more a found family fic than anything else, Alya and Nino are the mom friend, has light angst but it's mostly identity shenanigans in the most bizarre way. ❗TW: eating disorders❗

christmas lights by demistories

Nino checks up and down the street, checking to make sure there’s no raging akuma headed his way before he crosses quickly and ducks inside the small café. He closes the door quickly before the icy air can blow inside and tugs his beanie down over his ears. He spots Alya sitting alone in the corner.

Chapters: 1/1

Just fluff!! Really short but really sweet.

hold on, i still want you also by Missnoodles!

Written for the @thedjwifizine ! Wich I also recommend if you wanna binge a lot of djwifi fics while also looking at amazing art!!!

Five times Alya ran into her ex, and the one time he stopped being her ex.

Chapters: 1/1

Light angst with a happy ending! I don't really like the ex-lovers to lovers trope but this one is the only exception.

I will continue to expand the list in the future! But by now I hope I was helpful in the search of new fics!

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with Ethan’s suggestion

Description | Ethan suggests something that you had never seen coming - but for how long will you be able to resist him?

Content | smut with a bit of fluff

Pairing | Ethan x fem!Reader

Word Count | 3138

Tagging | @ginny-lily @mywritingonlyfans

***

"You did not just ask me that."

Ethan didn't even seem bothered by your shocked reaction. Instead, he simply kept looking at you, waiting, as if he had posed a completely normal question. You were certain it wasn’t though - who the hell just came out and asked one of their best friends to start hooking up? Surely this wasn’t just you thinking this was more than odd. You couldn’t stop looking at him, relaxing on a lounger in the sun, book still open in his hand, and how he didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, come one, Y/n,” Vic interjected from where she was relaxing on a pool float. “Poor Ethan hasn’t been with anyone since the pandemic started. The least you can do is help him get laid.”

“Get laid by me?!”

“Who else?” Victoria laughed. “It’s not like he can go out and pick up someone when we go on a promo tour in a week. We’re barely allowed to meet anyone as a safety measure.”

You shot her a pointed look and Victoria being your friend for the longest got it immediately.

“And no, I’m not gonna hook up with him. So it’s gotta be you.”

You couldn’t believe the conversation you were having. Had everyone simply gone crazy? Surely, Thomas wouldn’t be on their side in this, right? You watched as he lazily strolled towards your loungers, cigarette in hand.

“Thomas!” You shouted over at him. “Ethan wants me to hook up with him!”

“Fucking finally,” Thomas laughed as you stared back in horror. Was everyone in on this madness? “He’s been moping around for ages. About time he gets laid and relaxes.”

“See?” Ethan interjected. “Everyone thinks it’s a good idea.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea!”

“Fine,” Ethan shrugged. You hated how much he didn’t seem to care - how he had posed a question like that without an ounce of awkwardness and how your rejection didn’t seem to faze him in the least. You knew he was open about sex and sexuality, you’d been part of countless conversations among the band and had seen him pick up people at parties more than once, but this unnerved you. "If you change your mind, I'm available."

And with that Ethan went back to his book, Victoria went back to floating around the pool and Thomas went back to smoking his cigarette. But you weren't going to go back to anything, because whether you liked it or not, Ethan's suggestion would continue playing in your head for the unforeseeable future.

***

Three days. It had been three days since that fateful day at the pool and you could barely stand to look at Ethan. It wasn't because you were embarrassed - you all spoke about such things quite openly - nor were you angry at him having asked in the first place - if anything, it was flattering, a man such as Ethan considering you attractive in that way. It was more of a constant thought in your head whenever you were in the same room with him or he talked to you or you looked at him or he so much as popped into your mind. You kept lying awake at night, intrusive thoughts of Ethan towering over you clouding your brain. You didn't know what it was but you knew you didn't like it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as Victoria approached you, taking a couple of tomatoes you had spread in front of you and started cutting them up. You had been in charge of making dinner most days, with one or the other coming to join you in your cooking endeavors sooner or later. Today it seemed to be Vic, who was giggling away beside you, quite obviously dying to tell you something.

"And what is up with you?" You asked, a smirk on your face. You were happy your friend seemed so giddy and it had you itching to know why.

"I have a date!" Victoria was never one to keep things like these to herself for long - whenever she was positively excited about something, the world simply had to know. "Her name's Paula, she's on holiday here and we're going to go out for wine."

"Just wine?"

"Well, I'm gonna say, don't expect me back here tonight." She couldn't stop herself from smirking and then breaking out in another round of laughter and you joined freely. Good for her.

"I miss dates," you mused. "Or maybe - I don't know. Maybe I just miss at least staying the night with someone."

"You really need to get laid, babe."

"Who needs to get laid?" Damiano had appeared without warning, sneaking up on the two of you and pinching both of your waists teasingly before hopping on the counter next to where you were working. A slice of tomato was stolen and ended up in his mouth before you could react, only hitting him in the arm when it was much too late.

"Y/n," Victoria answered nonchalantly. You stared at her in annoyance but she didn't even catch your eye.

"So does Ethan! You guys should fuck."

"Not you too," you groaned. All of this seemed like a bad joke. In fact, you were starting to wonder if this was all some weird plot your friends had to get you to sleep with Ethan. But why would they?

"Huh?" Damiano sounded surprised but you didn't put it past him to simply put on a good act.

"Ethan asked her to hook up the other day."

"No way!" Damiano exclaimed. "He actually, fina- I mean, he actually asked you that?"

"Yup, and she shot him down," Victoria explained. You were getting more annoyed by the second. Especially because it felt like your love life (or lack thereof?) was being discussed without you. Plus, you couldn't shake the feeling they knew something you didn't.

"Aw, poor Ethan. You know, you should really give him the chance. Make the most of the fact that you've both got the house to yourselves tonight." Damiano's eyebrow wiggle earned him a tomato slice to the face due to pure irritation on your side. He wasn't bothered, quickly shoving it into his mouth and happily munching away on it.

"Wait, what do you mean? Where are you going?"

You sounded much more panicked than necessary. So what if you were alone in the house with Ethan? You'd survive. Easily. You'd read a bit of your book, maybe watch a movie, go to bed. You didn't even have to spend time with him. Right?

"Going out with my girlfriend, she's in town for work. Not sure where Thomas is off to but he's already left" Damiano shrugged, finally hopping off the counter to hopefully stop being in the way. "So, if there's anything you want to do, do it tonight."

***

So this was it. You were alone with Ethan. No, this was nothing. So what if you were alone with him? Not like it was going to change anything at all.

You had said your goodbyes for the night to the two lovebirds, wishing Victoria the most possible fun on her little date, before pouring yourself a glass of wine and retreating to the patio. You had no idea where Ethan was and you didn't mind.

The sun was setting, the temperature was more than bearable and you had your book lying next to you. Eyes closed trying to enjoy the last rays of sunshine, your hand grasped the stem of the wine glass, and fuck that moth scared the living daylights out of you. And caused you to spill your wine all over your blouse. Red wine. Crap. One was supposed to wash those out immediately, right? Right? You realised you had no idea, as you sprinted towards the upstairs bathroom, already unbuttoning for fast removal.

You threw the door open, feet set to move towards the basin, when you realised you weren't alone in the room. It happened in slow motion, as much as you hated the cliché of it all.

Ethan's back was towards you, strong, hard muscles visible under an array of water droplets that were slowly, slowly making their way downwards, hypnotising you and keeping your gaze locked on them. Your eyes were still travelling lower and lower when he noticed your presence, turning around out of reflex, and you could not help but notice he was not wrapped in a towel, nowhere close, when your eyes fell on-

Oh.

Oh.

In a rare moment of clarity, you tore your gaze away, looking up at his face instead, just to find him eyeing up your cleavage. Your blouse was halfway undone, putting your white lace bra on full display. Then his eyes snapped away and looked into yours instead. For a second, it felt like the world was standing still. Your brain only worked for another moment before it decided to let your body - or potentially your heart? - take over.

You told yourself 'fuck it' - or maybe you said it out loud, judging by the sudden smirk appearing on Ethan's face - and reached for the man in front of you. He reciprocated without hesitation, pulling you in and meeting your mouth with his, as he walked you backward until you hit the wall. His body felt hot against yours, providing a stark contrast to the cold tiles pressing into you. His hands cradled your face softly, fingers stroking along your cheeks, while he kissed you, open-mouthed, in a way that left you breathless.

If you had ever had doubts that sex with Ethan would not be worth it, they had evaporated into thin air altogether.

His hands had started roaming your body, finally landing on the last buttons of your blouse. You had expected him to slowly open them up, but instead, he tore the fabric apart in one swift movement, buttons flying and hitting the ground with little clacking noises. You wrecked your mouth from him for a moment, staring at him in both surprise and awe.

"Spiacente," he murmured, although he didn't look all that sorry. "I couldn't help myself. I can get them sewn back-"

"Ethan, stop talking and start fucking me."

Your bold words took both of you by surprise but none of you minded, simply relieved that you were on the same page. His hands were now grasping tightly onto your thighs and, and without giving you a warning, he lifted you up, still pressed against the wall. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively and he took a step back, finding his strength and balance, and slowly carrying you into his bedroom.

You couldn't stop staring at him. Ethan's beauty was a sight to behold on any given day, but the way his lips looked kissed after just a short while and his eyes had that kind of shine to them that had never previously been directed at you, it felt like you were looking at something ethereal. Never mind the fact that you knew he was completely naked, not just the toned chest that was pressing into your torse, but everything else. Hell, you were sure you felt a certain something press into the back of your thigh quite shamelessly.

He dropped you on his bed, leaving you to bounce slightly on the mattress as you lied on your back. He looked like he was about to devour you and you just knew you'd bend to his every wish.

Without any further hesitation, Ethan moved onto the bed, immediately grabbing onto the shorts you were wearing and slowly pulling them down your legs. He held eye contact with you the whole time and you were convinced you had never seen anything sexier in your life. Your panties were the next piece to leave your body. Normally, this would be the point you got nervous about, crossing your legs, hiding behind hands, anything to protect what little of your modesty you had left, but this was different. Ethan took all shame away from you.

"Is this okay?" He asked, as he slowly crawled upwards, spreading your legs and leaving hot, wet kisses along your calves. As much as you appreciated him asking for consent, you almost had to laugh - at this point in time, you had lost all willpower to deny him anything. So, with a blissful smile on your face, you eagerly nodded at him, your hand reaching down and tangling itself into his hair. He groaned as you gave a little tug and the sound was more than enough to get you even wetter than you already were.

At least that was what you thought up until Ethan put his mouth on you. You had been expecting a bit more foreplay, maybe his fingers, but instead you felt his tongue lick along the length of you. Your moan loudly echoed through the room and you had never been so glad that Vic, Thomas and Damiano had deserted the two of you in the house.

Your grasp on his hair tightened as he started flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue. The fact that you could feel his hair tickling the inside of your thighs only seemed to make you more sensitive. Suddenly, one of his fingers entered you, quickly to be joined by a second. Your back arched off the bed in an involuntary reaction as your breathing became more and more laboured. You could hear- hell, you could feel him chuckle against you.

With a sharp tug, you pulled his head away from you.

"I'm not going to be able to take much more, Ethan," you confessed. He looked up at you with wide eyes, chin wet from going down on you and fingers still slowly moving in and out, and you momentarily forgot what you meant to say. "So if you wanna fuck me, I suggest you get a move on."

He didn't need to be told twice. You still sighed in disappointment when he actually removed his fingers from you but you were quickly distracted by him moving them to your mouth and slipping them in. You eagerly sucked on them, twirling your tongue around them, tasting your own arousal, and his composure was slipping with every second he looked at you. He quickly pulled his fingers from your mouth to crawl further up your body, his cock moving against your leg. He was so well endowed it would have almost been frightening if you hadn't been so turned on.

Ethan kissed you with a force that was unparalleled. There wasn't even a question about who was in control. As his fingers trailed from your neck down past your collarbones you both suddenly seemed to remember you were still wearing a bra. You made short work of the piece of fabric, carelessly throwing it across the room, and he thanked you by squeezing your soft flesh in the most delicious way. You repaid the favour by letting your hand wander to his cock and giving him a few strokes. He immediately let out the most sinful moan you had ever heard, head collapsing onto your cleavage.

"I don't think you need any more help from me down there," you giggled.

"With you lying under me like this, I sure don't."

Moving your legs around his waist once more, you slowly guided him into you, your walls swallowing him bit by bit, careful not to stretch you out too fast with his size. It felt like heaven on earth. You both moaned in pleasure as Ethan slowly started moving, making sure you were comfortable as he looked into your eyes, while you broke the eye contact time and time again, too overwhelmed to leave your eyes open every time he thrust into you. You kept grabbing onto what you could, the back of his head, his shoulders, his butt, as he increased his speed, hitting you in all the right places every single time.

You knew you weren't going to last long, not with him on and in and all around you, not with his fingers playing with your nipple, not with his lips clumsily attaching themselves to various places around your neck and shoulders, and as you felt his hand between your legs, softly circling your clit once again, you were gone. You came in waves of euphoria, unashamed of the volume of your moans and the strength with which you pulled on his hair. Your actions, combined with you clenching around him and a few more thrust, had him follow you moments later.

He carefully slipped out of you, never once letting go of you, and turning you onto your side with him so you were facing each other. Both of you were still breathing heavily, vision cloudy, but intertwined. You were convinced he had ruined you - there was no way anyone was ever going to live up to how he made you feel.

"So, did it live up to your expectation?" You couldn't help but giggle as you posed the question. "Getting laid again after such a long time?"

Ethan pushed a damp strand of hair from your face. You hadn't expected such softness.

"It wasn't actually about getting laid, you know."

"Huh?"

"It was about you."

"Okay, you've lost me now," you said, brows knitting as your hand searched for his, finger entangling the same way your legs were doing. "What are you talking about?"

"I... I've liked you for a while. And I tried so much, but you never even noticed."

Your mind replayed the last few weeks you had spent with the band in their summer house. Instances of Ethan bringing you food, cocktails, adjusting the shade to make sure you were in it, offering to put sunscreen on your back. Moments of him searching for your company, moving much closer than necessary in the heat, arms constantly touching when you were sitting next to each other. Jokes and teasing from the others, drunken remarks. You hadn't paid attention to any of it. You wondered how you could have been so blind to a man so wonderful.

"Wait, so instead of asking me out like a normal person, you suggested we hook up?" You couldn't keep the laughter in now. The situation was simply too ridiculous and you had not yet stopped riding on your high from the endorphins he had caused.

"It was Vic's idea." He buried his head into the sheets, but you could still see his cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. "She knew I missed sex and she said you mentioned something similar so she thought this was the way into your..."

"Pants?"

"Heart, actually."

You snuggled closer, arms wrapping around him so that your noses were touching.

"Well, as embarrassing as it is, it somehow worked, didn't it?" You stroked over his head lovingly. "And I'm sure not letting you go any time soon."

[rocorambles]

Mission: Seduce Kuroo Tetsurou

Pair: Kuroo x Reader

Genre: NSFW, Slight Angst, Fluff, Porn With Plot

Warnings: Degradation, Master/Pet Dynamics, Sex Toys, Overstimulation, Cum Play, Nipple Play

Prompt: "Guess I'll just have to cum inside you."

Summary: You really should have just spoken to Kuroo about your insecurities instead of letting everything spiral out of control. But that’s okay, your husband is more than happy to thoroughly remind you that you’re the only woman he’ll ever want.  

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt. (Masterlist goes live Monday 31st August 11:30pm U.K. time!) 

You stretch your arms over your head as a big yawn rumbles throughout your entire body. It’s too early for any sane person to be up, even the sun is barely creeping in through the windows of your apartment, but your husband has hardly been sane recently with the crazy amount of hours he’s been pouring into work. You’re lucky that you even woke up before he left and you smile as you hear your overgrown house cat rustle around your bathroom and bedroom, getting ready for the day. 

“Tetsurou, hurry up so you have time to eat at least a little breakfast before you head out! You’ve been skipping it too much recently. You wouldn’t want me to leave you for one of those pro-athletes you work so closely with when you become just stick and bones, would you?” 

You bite back a laugh when your husband’s messy bed hair peeks out from around the corner and hazel eyes narrow at you, but you’re not laughing when he finally saunters over to you in his suit and traps you against the kitchen counter between his long arms, leaning in so close your noses are brushing and just when you relax and close your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you, you rapidly blink your eyes open as he gives you a quick light peck before ambling off to pour himself a cup of the green tea you’d brewed. With a pout, you warm up the rice balls you’d bought last night and place them on the dining table, wrinkling your nose in displeasure at the smirk on Kuroo’s face, but it’s all forgotten as the two of you lightly chat over breakfast, Kuroo’s long legs spreading into your space across the table, your calves gently rubbing against each other as you laugh and eat. But all too soon it’s time for him to go and he gives you another loving peck before racing out the door and with a sigh, you wash the dishes before getting ready to leave for work yourself.

You love Kuroo with all your heart. Your feelings for him have only gotten stronger over the years and even after tying the knot with him, you can’t help the way your heart flutters and warmth fills your chest whenever the two of you lock eyes. But when your mind replays the teasing scene from this morning, your thighs clench and you bite your lips. Kuroo’s always been a tease and you love it as much as you hate it. No one knows how to rile you up like he does and he uses that to his advantage, rendering you a desperate, needy mess before finally making good on all his dirty promises. But lately, he hasn’t been following through. You can’t even remember the last time you’d done anything more than heatedly make out. 

At first, you had tried to be patient. You know far too well exactly why he hasn’t been in the mood recently. It’s so obvious to you. It’s obvious in the ever growing and darkening circles underneath his eyes. It’s obvious in the way he can barely stay awake when you do manage to spend some time together when he comes back home from work. It’s obvious in the way he immediately passes out as soon as his head hits the pillow. Hell, even his messy bed hair that usually defies gravity seems to slump more and more with every passing day. He’s exhausted. You’ve always loved how dedicated and hardworking Kuroo is. It’s one of the many reasons you’d fallen for him and you know how important his job is to him, but you wonder if it’s time to intervene as you watch your husband walk around your shared apartment like a zombie. Also, more selfishly, you have needs and it’s been months since you’ve been stuffed full by him and really, this is all Kuroo’s fault for training your body to constantly yearn for him after all the years he spent pleasuring you over and over again. With a determined glint in your eyes, you begin to scheme. Let Mission Seduce Kuroo Tetsurou begin.

You scan yourself in the mirror pleased with how you look in a strappy lingerie set you know drives Kuroo crazy. It’s a delicate and intricate creation of lace and ribbons that barely covers you, only accentuating the curves of your figure, but you know it’s the one strip of ribbon that travels in a single bold line between your breasts and leads up to a delicate lacy red collar wrapped around your neck that will specifically catch Kuroo’s eyes. Checking the time, you excitedly perch yourself on the bed, positioning yourself seductively, candles flickering and enhancing the mood as you wait for him, but a hour passes and you unwillingly succumb to sleep, ignorant of the way your phone buzzes with an apologetic text from Kuroo, letting you know he’d be home even later than usual. Blearily you open your eyes and wince as daylight sears your vision. Wait...daylight? You scramble to sit up and check your surroundings and your shoulders sag in frustration when you find yourself still in your lingerie set, but carefully tucked into bed, blankets wrapped around your body, Kuroo’s side of the bed empty and cold. You reach over to look at your phone, getting up to get dressed for work, when you see a new text from your husband. 

Sorry, kitten. You must have been waiting a long time for me last night. You looked absolutely beautiful. Look! I even took some pictures so I could remember. But maybe next time try not to fall asleep while the candles are still lit ^.^  

Your face heats up at the lewd pictures he’d taken of you while you were fast asleep and your heart warms at his compliment, but you stubbornly shake your head. There’s no time to be distracted. You’re still a woman on a mission. 

Attempt two takes place that weekend and you watch your husband from the shadows, lurking behind him before finally pouncing on him as he sits at his desk, answering a work phone call. You saucily wink at him as you saunter into his view and you smirk at the way he clears his throat and gulps at the sight of you dressed in nothing but his old Nekoma jersey and black thigh highs. And when you sink to your knees and arch your back just so, you almost snicker at the way he hisses when his jersey rides up and your bare ass is displayed. But he collects himself enough to firmly, but gently shove you away from him as you try to pull his boxers down and despite a few more attempts on your end, you instantly stop when he puts his phone on mute and sternly says your full name. 

But Kuroo’s always been weak against your puppy dog eyes and with a slight roll of his eyes, he beckons you to sit on his bare thigh and as he calmly and professionally continues his call, you heavily pant with your tongue lolling out, drool dripping from your mouth as you grind against his strong muscles like a bitch in heat, smearing your arousal everywhere until you’re almost sliding back and forth against the taut surface. And as he clenches his muscles and digs his leg further up into you, your body convulses and he barely has time to end the call before you loudly moan as you ride out your orgasm. He whispers filthy praises into your ear about what a good slut you are, what a desperate pet you are, what a mess you’ve made all over master’s leg, but when you finally exhaustedly slump onto his chest, he peppers butterfly kisses all over your face and holds you for a few minutes before carrying you to the bathroom and washing both of you off despite your protests that you still want to play more. 

He at least has the decency to apologetically kiss you for ending things so abruptly as he throws on slacks and a button-up before rushing off to work to take care of the emergency he had just been on a call about despite the fact that it’s a weekend, but you can’t help the growing insecurity that begins to eat at you as you spend the rest of that Saturday alone. Were you not as attractive as you used to be? Was Kuroo getting tired of you? Why does it feel like you’re trying so hard to get his attention? Does touching you feel like just a husbandly duty for him now? Thought after crippling thought sears through you and you have to hold back the tears that threaten to spill when Kuroo returns late that night and, thinking you’re already asleep, turns on his side with his back facing towards you and instantly falls asleep.        

You muster what little resolve you have left with the last few scraps of your self-confidence for a final attempt. Raking through your mind for memories of what would hopefully bring some passion back between the two of you, you perk up as your eyes scan a black box crammed underneath the bed. Kuroo hates it when you masturbate, when you touch yourself, when you make yourself cum without him being physically present or at least on a call with you to hear all the pretty sounds you make. Surely this would be enough to finally have him fuck you senseless like he always used to. But when you purposefully time everything so that Kuroo enters your bedroom and finds you stuffed full with your favorite dildo, a wand vibrator pressed against your clit, and your back arched as broken cries fill the room, he just gives you a tired smile and sits on the edge of the bed before helping you by thrusting the dildo in and out of your gushing cunt. And it feels so good, but when you see how dull and lifeless Kuroo’s sleep deprived eyes look despite the fact that you’re laid out in an erotic display of lust, you can’t stop the sobs you let out as you climax. 

Thinking you’re just crying from the overwhelming pleasure and too tired to dig further into it, Kuroo absentmindedly tosses the toys to the side and cradles you in his arms as he falls asleep, finding comfort in your familiar scent and figure, ignorant of the way your body continues to tremble as you cry yourself to sleep. And as you try to keep your sobs and sniffles as quiet as possible, you decide to abort this mission, deeming it a complete and utter failure and you struggle to fall asleep that night as self-deprecating thoughts claw at your insides. Of course Kuroo didn’t find you sexy anymore. Your body has changed a lot since your younger days. You should be grateful that you still have a loving husband, a husband who works tirelessly to help provide for the two of you, a husband who always takes care of you, a loyal and devoted husband. And despite the longing pang for something more, something primal, for your base desires to be filled, you tentatively turn in Kuroo’s arms until you're face to face and you nuzzle into his toned chest and finally find peace in the rhythmic rise and fall of his sleeping figure. 

Life goes on normally after that. At least for Kuroo. He's too distracted and exhausted to notice the way your smiles are a little more forced, the way you're more hesitant about touching him, the way you wear more clothes to cover your body as self-consciousness plagues your mind. So it's just business as usual for him to excitedly tell you about the Japan Volleyball Association's annual summer beach party, but he blinks in confusion when you don't return his enthusiasm, mumbling a feeble excuse about not having a swimsuit for the occasion. Brows furrowed, he digs through the drawers of your wardrobe and triumphantly holds up a black bikini set you still have, waving aside your worries that it won't fit and that it won't look good on you anymore and that's how you find yourself a few weeks later, exiting Kuroo's car and walking side by side with him in said bikini, feeling like an ugly troll next to your stunning husband whose lean and toned muscles are on full display with him just sporting a red pair of swim trunks. 

But your insecurities are pushed aside as a loud "hey, hey, hey" echoes even over the sound of the waves crashing on the beach and you can't help but grin as Bokuto runs over slapping Kuroo hard enough on the back to leave a red mark before picking you up and spinning you around as he hugs you. "Alright, that's enough, stop manhandling my wife, you big dumb owl!" Kuroo pretends to grumble at the two of you, but you can tell by the amused glint in his eyes as Bokuto finally lets you go and the reassuring hand he places on your lower back as the three of you mingle with everyone else that he doesn't really mind. But as soon as you reach the thickest part of the crowd, Kuroo quickly kisses your forehead before running off to network with some players and coworkers, leaving you alone with Bokuto. 

The two of you have fun. Bokuto has always been the life of the party and you laugh the hardest you've laughed in a long time. But many drinks later and unable to keep up with his crazy stamina, you excuse yourself and find a quiet corner, drinking a glass of cold water to cool down and sober up a bit. It's been hours and you still haven't seen Kuroo since he separated from you and you're so focused scanning the venue for him that you don't notice the person drawing near you until you feel movement right next to you. Surprised you turn around and are met with a vaguely familiar face. Blond dyed hair. An ever present smirk. You don't realize how long you've been staring, trying to remember where you recognize him from, until he snorts and waves a hand in your face. "I know I'm good looking, but don't you think it's a little rude to just stare at me silently?" 

You try to stutter out an apology as you finally come back to your senses, but he laughs it off and introduces himself. Atsumu. Yes, now you recognize him. Bokuto's teammate. You've seen tons of pictures of him on Bokuto's social media accounts. He's a little rough around the edges and you can feel your face heat up as he blatantly looks you up and down, eyes lingering a bit too long on the swell of your breasts, but you can feel your confidence growing, feeling truly desired for the first time in months. What's the harm in a little flirting? 

The two of you banter back and forth and maybe it's the heat of the sun mixed with the alcohol still running through your veins, but you don't notice the way Atsumu inches closer to you until your thighs are pressed tightly against each other or the way he rests one arm behind you, slyly pressing it against your upper back. And you definitely don't notice how he suddenly swoops in to crash his lips against yours and you move to shove him away from you only to be interrupted by a flurry of motions and you stare in shock at Atsumu sprawled out on the ground and your husband furiously glaring down at him, fists clenched so hard his knuckles are turning white. 

You react just in time to lunge at Kuroo and you tightly wrap your arms around his tense figure as he takes a step towards the blonde setter, holding him still as realization finally dawns on Atsumu when he spots your matching wedding bands and he scampers off with a rushed apology. But even when he’s long gone and nowhere in sight, you still clutch your husband, not letting go until you feel his muscles relax. You let him shake you off as he turns around to tower over you and you whimper at the fire burning in his eyes, hazel eyes almost glowing as they pin you down. You’re thankful for the loud music and lively atmosphere, ensuring no one’s paying any attention to the two of you as he tightly grips your chin and forces you to maintain eye contact. 

“Someone’s been a naughty kitten. I leave you alone for a few hours and you let some other man just place their dirty paws all over you? Let them taste your pretty little mouth? If I hadn’t stopped him, would you have let him fuck your tight cunt too? Mark you up inside and out?” 

You hate the way you grow wet at his words, trembling when Kuroo notices your growing arousal and narrows his eyes in disdain. But it’s the brief flicker of hurt in his eyes that finally has you digging your hands into his waist as denial and reassurances come pouring out of your mouth. 

“Tetsurou, I had no idea he was going to kiss me. It happened so fast. I’m so sorry. Of course I would have stopped him if you hadn’t stepped in! I love you. I only want you.” 

You stare intently into his eyes, trying to portray all your love for him through your gaze and you sigh in relief when his eyes soften at your words, but your breath catches in your throat when his eyes sharpen into a familiar gleam and a dark smirk curves onto his lips. He finally releases your chin and leans down until his hair brushes against the side of your face as he purrs into your ear. 

“Prove it to me.” 

Kuroo has a reputation to uphold and, not wanting to risk anyone seeing what’s about to happen, he grabs your hand and guides you through the dancing crowd, laughing and greeting a few tipsy faces he recognizes in passing, but not once does he stop leading you towards the exit and you’re quivering in anticipation by the time the two of you reach the parking lot and he roughly shoves you into the back of his car. The door has barely closed before he pulls your bottoms down, not even bothering to fully remove them as he also hastily shoves his boxers down just enough for his cock to swing out. And you almost moan at just the sight of what you’ve been lusting for all these months, a small part of you taking pride in the fact that he’s not as unaffected as he makes himself seem behind his angry facade as you unconsciously lick your lips at the sight of his already fully hard length. 

You attempt to sit up and move towards him, desperate for a taste of the pre-cum leaking out of his tip, but you yelp when you’re shoved back down by a hand on your chest and you whine, only for that to quickly turn into a wail as Kuroo slams two of his fingers inside of your throbbing cunt. He growls as he rapidly pistons his digits in and out of you and you should be embarrassed by the way your cries of ecstasy and the sound of your squelching wet pussy fill the car, but you can’t bring yourself to feel any shame as you lose yourself to the delirious pleasure of your husband’s long fingers filling you, stretching you, always sure to rub against that spongy spot inside of you that makes you see stars. But when your hand instinctively reaches down to rub your clit, you’re startled back to reality when it’s slapped away and his fingers are yanked out of you. 

He sneers down at you, a wicked smile twisting his face as he shoves his drenched fingers into your mouth and you obediently suck, making sure to clean every remaining drop of yourself that coats his skin. Satisfied, he finally removes his hand from your mouth and he quirks an eyebrow in amusement as you beg and plead for him to fuck you.

“Tetsurou, please. I need your cock inside of me. Please, I want it so badly. Please fuck me. Please please please. I miss it so much.” 

He mockingly coos down at you as desperate tears well in the corner of your eyes. “Aww is my little kitten crying for my cock? You’re such a fucking whore. You want my big fat cock inside of you so badly that you’d cry and beg for it like a desperate slut? You sure it’s my cock that you miss? I think you’d be happy with any cock fucking you. You’d let anyone stuff you full and moan like a whore, wouldn’t you?” 

And the tears finally fall as you sob and shake your head rapidly. “Only you, Tetsurou. Always only you. Please please please.” You’re still crying and incoherently babbling as he slams his entire shaft inside of you in one swift motion and Kuroo darkly smiles at the way your crying instantly turns to wanton moans at the sudden intrusion. But it’s been far too long since either of you have done this and both of you are so worked up that he knows he doesn’t have much time before you both reach your ends. And sure enough after just a few strokes he can feel your body begin to tighten and he grits his teeth at the sight of your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your head shaking back and forth, and your mouth wide open. But even as dazed as you are, when you feel the way your husband’s thrusts become uneven, you try to voice as much reason as you possibly can, fully aware of your husband’s tendency to paint your body with his fluids. 

“Tetsu-Tetsurou AH- Feels so good. Hngh D-don’t cum on me. Don’t have anything to- AHHH clean it up with and- OH we need to go back to the party.”

Kuroo grunts in displeasure at your words, but he knows you’re right and as much as he loves to see you covered in thick spurts of white, the thought of anyone else seeing that incites rage in him. You get ready for him to pull out and cum down your throat like you always do when you mess around in similarly inconvenient places, ready to swallow down any evidence of your sinful deeds, but you scream when his thrusts get even harder and faster. 

"Guess I'll just have to cum inside you."

And those words are the final shove you need to fall over the peak and Kuroo follows shortly after you as your pussy walls clench and milk his cock. He stays buried inside of you for a few more moments, wanting your tight walls to soak up as much of him as possible, but when he slides out of you, he quickly pulls your bottoms up, not letting a single drop escape, and you whimper as he purposefully tugs them up just a tad too tightly, teasingly wedging the fabric between your folds before finally having some mercy and letting you rearrange them. He opens the car door and steps out first, offering a hand down towards you and you grab it, gingerly standing up only to be pulled swiftly towards him and you stumble into his chest. But before you can fully find your balance, a large hand tugs your hair until you’re forced to stare up into cat-like eyes. 

“I want you to keep my cum inside of you for the rest of the party. I’m not anywhere near done with your punishment. I’ll be checking at home tonight to see if your pretty little pussy is still painted white.”       

The rest of the party is torturous. Kuroo doesn't let you step even a foot away from him as he continues mingling with the crowd and in any other scenario you'd love the attention he showers you with as he affectionately introduces you to countless faces, but not today. Not with your pussy desperately clenching in order not to spill a single drop of the white liquid coating your insides. Not with your touch starved body only yearning for more after getting a taste of what you've wanted all these months. And Kuroo only makes things worse with his subtle teasing. 

You know better than to think any of his touches are accidental or innocent and your body is so in tune with his that it reacts to every single bit of contact he dishes out. His arm grazes over your nipples as he reaches over to grab a drink. He leads you with a hand that just happens to slip from your lower back and land squarely on your ass. He wipes your mouth for you, claiming you have a piece of food on the corner of your mouth, but that doesn't really explain why his fingers briefly slip past your lips. But all hell breaks loose when he reapplies your sunscreen for you and his hands blatantly slip under your bikini set, teasingly close to where you want him most, but always just missing your clit and nipples and when he reaches your neck, a moan escapes you at the feeling of his hand subtly wrapping and tightening around your throat. 

"Tetsurou, stop teasing me! Can we go home? Please take me home. I need you inside of me again. I want you to ruin me." 

Kuroo's the one who's turned you into a needy slutty mess, but it's his turn to feel flushed at the sight of you lewdly begging him to do whatever he wants to you in broad daylight, in front of hundreds of people and finally losing his self-control, he brusquely grabs your hand and once again the two of you are leaving, but this time for good. The car ride is silent, the atmosphere thick and tense between the two of you as you clench your thighs together and Kuroo tries to ignore the growing bulge in his shorts. It's silent as both of you enter your apartment and Kuroo seats himself on your couch. But you break once you close and lock the front door and Kuroo impassively stares at you as you drop to your knees in front of him and beg him to fuck you again. You know you're barely making any sense, fueled only by your cock hungry thoughts, but you pause when Kuroo raises a hand to silence you. 

"Let's see if you were able to follow the one rule I gave you today, kitten." 

Eagerly you nod your head and you raise yourself on your knees, spreading your thighs apart before pulling your bikini bottom to the side and you think you could cum right there and then just from the way Kuroo unabashedly stares at the white trail dripping down your inner thigh as he pushes down his shorts enough to languidly stroke his cock. 

"Good girl. Did you like being my little cum bucket today? Did you like being filled by me? Bet if it were possible, you'd always want your little cunny to be drenched in my cum, right? Come sit on master's lap." 

Kuroo chuckles at the way you clumsily stumble in your haste to reach him as you blather affirmation after affirmation in response to his questions and he lowers his head to affectionately kiss you, lightly nipping your lower lip before he pulls back. He moves one hand to his cock to angle it as his other hand grabs your waist and urges you to move, but you hardly need any encouragement and you both groan as you sink down on his length until you're completely bottomed out and sitting in his lap once again. Immediately you try to bounce, but you whine when strong hands hold you still and you can feel tears of frustration forming as you pout at your husband's smirk. But any annoyance is forgotten when his hands fondle and pinch your nipples through the fabric of your top. 

"Look at you. I've barely done anything and you're already so worked up. Stop moving! Just sit there and take what I give you." You yelp when he roughly pinches your nipples and you cease your attempts to ride him, but you can't help the way your hips roll and grind as he continues. 

"Your nipples are already so hard, kitten. Look how obvious they are even beneath your swimsuit. Were they like this all day? Is that why Atsumu couldn't take his eyes off you? You think every player there saw how slutty your nipples are? Realized what a horny desperate whore you are? I bet they all wanted to get a taste." 

You wail when Kuroo shoves the fabric aside and latches a mouth onto one of your sensitive nubs, while experly flicking and rolling the other between his fingers. He alternates between the two sides and your frazzled mind can barely keep up with his actions as he switches up the motions of his fingers and mouth. He pulls off briefly and sharply tugs at your nipples. "Think you can cum just from your nipples?" You try to deny it, pleading for him to at least rub your clit, but your protests are ignored and you gasp when he dives back down and harshly sucks at one of your puffy nubs. Kuroo knows your body even better than you do and he continues to stimulate your nipples even when you topple over into an orgasm that takes you by surprise and you tightly clench around his cock as your back arches and only when you weakly paw at him to stop does he release your nipple with a lewd pop. 

You playfully smack him when he teases you about what a slut you must be to be able to get off from just your nipples and you hide your face in his neck as he shamelessly thinks out loud about all the nipple clamps, suctions, and vibrators he can use on you to train you even more. But you raise your head in alarm when you feel yourself being repositioned, Kuroo's erect cock still inside of you as he lays you on your back and hovers over you. 

"Tetsurou, st-stop NGH TOO SOON!"

"What did you say, kitten? Sorry, it's hard to understand you when you're moaning like a whore. Weren't you begging for this all day? Shouldn't you be thanking me?"

Kuroo thrusts sharply into you with every word and you can't think of anything other than how well he fills you, how perfectly he fits inside the cunt he's molded and shaped for himself after years of using it, how amazing the drag of his cock against your insides is. You babble thank you, thank you, thank you mindlessly over and over again, incapable of doing anything else as your breasts bounce and your body writhes underneath him. And when his hips finally stutter and he furiously rubs your clit as he adds to the mess inside of you, you break apart once again, your mind going blank as you feel the warmth of his cum sloshing inside of you.

But exhaustion slams into you as you come down from your climax, exhaustion from your third orgasm, exhaustion from being teased all day and all the barriers you’d put up finally come crashing down and Kuroo stares in horror as you sob, nothing like the pleasure filled sobs he usually wrings out of you. No, these are heartbreaking anguished cries for help and he immediately answers the call by tightly clutching you to his chest, your lower bodies still connected as he murmurs words of praise and love into your ear. 

“Hey, what’s wrong, sweetheart? I love you. You know that, right? I love you more than anything or anyone else in this entire world. I’m so lucky to be your husband. You’re so good to me, so loving, so supportive, so loyal, so beautiful.” 

The last word catches your attention and with a sniffle you hesitantly remove your head from his torso and look at him through watery lashes. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” 

Kuroo flounders for a second, disbelief choking the words in his throat, unable to understand how you could think otherwise. But when he sees the insecurity and doubt flooding your eyes he gently cradles your face in his calloused hands. 

“Of course I do. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, inside and out.” 

Your heart flutters at the sincerity you see in his eyes and that’s all it takes for you to break down in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as you tuck your head under his chin, and he silently listens as you reveal all the internal suffering you’d put yourself through over the past months as you let your anxiety and worry mix with your doubts and insecurities, letting them fester and ferment into a self-destructive time bomb. A slow-moving process he’d been too daft to notice, that you’d been too scared to talk to him about for his sake, not wanting to be a bother or another item he needed to check off his to-do list. And while you continue shyly speaking, tears stream down Kuroo’s face and his heart clenches at the thought of how long you’d quietly suffered, putting on a happy facade for him, taking care of his every want and need during the few hours of the week he was home and awake. 

Surprised to feel liquid drops plop down on your face, you quirk your head upwards and panic when you see your husband’s teary eyes and the two of you become a blubbering mess as you both try to wipe each other’s tears and soothe each other. It’s so silly to see two adults trying to out comfort each other that you accidentally snort at the strange image the two of you must make and there’s a slight pause, but then your laughter is joined by Kuroo’s trademark cackle and before you know it, the two of you are wrapped in each other’s arms, feeling the rumble of each other’s laughter through your connected bodies. 

Yes, there’ll be serious conversations later about being more open and transparent with each other when something’s troubling either one of you and discussions on how you can both work on your communication. You’ll jokingly complain that Kuroo is hovering over you too much for weeks after this breakdown as he practically scrutinizes you with those perceptive eyes of his, always making sure you’re really fine. And he’ll never give you any more opportunities to doubt how much he loves every part of you when you’re screaming his name on every surface of your home. But for now, feeling infinitely lighter with all your burdens finally shoved off your shoulders with the help of your husband, you’re content to close your eyes and relish in the warmth of the lean body pressed against you.     

[wearywinchester]

Tempers

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: When a hunt goes wrong, anger flares and feelings come out.

Requested by Anonymous: This is sooo ''let's pretend they're all alive' but I think we all need something nice now, could you do one where reader is bobby's daughter and she's your typical I like makeup, short skirts and heels girl and they're all (reluctantly) working with the ghost facers for a case, dean gets protective around her bc she's bobby's daughter and not at all bc he likes her no no what gave you that idea hehehe

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: little bit of jealousy, injuries, mentions of blood, swearing, brief mentions of alcohol, fluff, kissing

Hunting with the Winchester’s.

No matter the case, hunting with those two never failed to be interesting. You’d like to think you were a good hunter, in fact you knew you were. You might not have been the best there is but there’s not one hunter out there that hasn’t made a handful of mistakes on the job. It was bound to happen sometime. But you’ve had a pretty good hunter to learn from—your dad.

He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of you hunting, not in the slightest and he tried his hardest to get you to go another direction with your life. But Bobby Singer was as stubborn as they come, so he should’ve expected his daughter to be just the same as himself. With all of the reluctance in the world, he taught you to be the hunter you are today, and that’s something he can feel confident in even though he might not admit it.

Dean hadn’t taken you too seriously the first time you’d accompanied them on a hunt for a vamp nest, treating you as if you were a child despite the mere one year age difference the two of you held. That quickly changed when you saved him from a great deal of danger that night; three vamps against a disarmed Dean surely wouldn’t have gone very well.

That was something you very much held over his head, giving it a good long while before you finally let him live it down save for a few mentions here and there.

Even then Dean was just as protective as he’d been since you were teens nearly ten years ago, you were Bobby’s daughter. That was always his reasoning for insisting you stay close to him on hunts, for losing his temper should the smallest of things happen to you. That was his reasoning for being adamant that you stay back on hunts he deemed too dangerous, trying his hardest to convince Bobby to stick with him on it. Bobby never disagrees with his reasoning, but he also knows you’re too stubborn for your own good.

Dean was the very same way.

The old house looked like something straight out of a movie, the stereotypical haunted house as boards stick haphazardly over broken windows and the grass is far too overgrown. Nearly every corner was littered with spiderwebs, the siding on the house covered in years of neglected dirt and moss. It was only perfectly fitting that it’d be haunted, otherwise that’d be a waste of an abandoned house.

You squinted up at it as you got out of the backseat of the Impala, turning back to look at the long driveway you’d just driven up, lined with old trees on either side before glancing back at the house. Your gaze shifts to Dean as you smooth out your jacket, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a grin.

“What?” You ask, eyes narrowed as you look up at the older Winchester.

“Nothing,” he chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, “I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a pair of those ridiculously tall heels on. I have to say I’m shocked.”

You roll your eyes and bite the inside of your cheek as he nudges the toe of your tattered old boots, his smile still remaining as he looks down at you in amusement.

“Well I guess I’m full of surprises then, aren’t I?” You say as you rub your gloss in with a smack of your lips and brush past him to get to catch up to Sam, the smile you’d tried to stifle now tugging at your lips once your back was to him. But he knew it was there just as much as you saw his was when you turned back around to catch his expression.

He chuckled, brows soon furrowing as he shook his head. “Wait—what’s that supposed to mean?”

He slung his bag over his shoulder and quickened his pace, grumbling to himself about what your words could have meant as his brows furrowed. In a matter of moments you nearly smack into Sam, stopping just in time.

“What is it?”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Dean mutters, and when you look at him that crease between his brows deepens and his jaw tenses, eyes rolling and you follow his gaze to the ever familiar van that sat parked on the other side of the trees. “Looks like the ghostbusters beat us to it.”

Ghostfacers.

You were more than surprised when Dean had caved on working the hunt with them, not without a couple of eye rolls and a few choice words for the pair mumbled not so discreetly under his breath. But all things considered, after what happened the last time, you were surprised he’d gone through with it. Although, Harry and Ed weren’t planning on leaving anyway. They may have been more than just a little intimidated by that ever famous Dean Winchester glare, one that never worked on you, but they weren’t scared enough to back down much to Dean’s dismay.

The more people there were, the better, but that didn’t stop the older Winchester from being protective over you. In fact, you were certain he was even more so.

“Stay with me,” Dean said, his words serious as he put his arm out in front of you, his gaze over at the two less than desired guests and their cameras having been less than pleased. Especially with the way they smiled at you and acted like a couple of fools with a crush.

“What am I five, Dean?” You say, pushing his arm down as you quicken your pace to walk with him rather than behind him.

He narrows his eyes down at you as his lips purse till those dimples appeared that you’ve come to know oh so well, and rarely were they not from discontentment.

“Would you slow down?” He huffs, a smile tugging at your lips.

You sigh, shaking your head in amusement.

You failed to miss the way the back of his hand had brushed over your knuckles as you walked along the shadowed hallway, thick with cobwebs and rubble scattering across the scratched wood floors. You were starting to wonder if the action was a simple accident or if he’d felt the same spark of something you couldn’t quite pinpoint in his chest as you felt in yours.

It could have been nothing, probably was, but you shook it off when you turned around the corner and tried not to think about it again.

The hunt was supposed to be easy. It was supposed to be a simple salt and burn, and it was one spirit against five people. Harry and Ed weren’t the best of help, not really, but it was more than you walked in with and it should have been better. But it wasn’t.

The spirit turned out to be far more vengeful than she let on, and as Dean suspected, it wasn’t a good idea to split up. Not in a house that was three times bigger than it seemed with a more than violent spirit on the loose. It most certainly didn’t help that the sun had finally dipped below the horizon, the house dark enough to begin with even in daylight, it’s boarded up windows and burnt out lightbulbs working against you.

Had you not been there, Dean would more than readily have split up to cover more ground with the extra set of hands accompanying you this time, it only made sense to do so. But you were. You were there and you were just as stubborn as ever as you stood there in favor of the very idea that was just the opposite of what Dean wanted. What was a good idea to you and one to most was the worst thing he could possibly think of. He didn’t want you to stray far from him for reasons he’d never admit, not to you or himself, instead reasoning with a simple ‘because I said so’.

But that phrase didn’t work on you. It never did.

He knew. From the moment those two barreled down the stairs looking paler than the spirit you were after, holding all the hesitancy in the world in their body language he knew. The apologetic look Sam had given him wasn’t one that helped either, anger quick to spark within him as he closed his eyes for a moment. He should have known better than to believe they’d offer you any form of protection even though he knows you can hold your own. He should have known better than to quit arguing with you on the matter because maybe, just maybe you’d have given in and split up with him instead. Maybe you would still be with the group and not who knows where in this maze of a run down mansion.

It was a mess of maybe’s and what if’s that clouded his every thought.

But he didn’t argue and you were gone. You were swept away by Casper the not so friendly ghost and he was to blame. Bobby would be livid if he knew, he gets that, but Dean himself didn’t know what he’d do if something happened. He could deal with the wrath of Bobby Singer any day but he couldn’t deal with even just the thought of something happening to you and he couldn’t find it in him to grasp just why it was he felt that way. Maybe he could, but he doesn’t want to think about it.

“You what?” Dean asked, anger simmering in the pit of his stomach. His question was low and the two words were more than venomous, more than telling of just how angry he’d been. He heard exactly what Ed had told him not thirty seconds before, he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He could believe it actually, because it was Ed of all people, but that wasn’t the point.

Ed swallowed thickly and offered a nervous laugh in an attempt to stave off the tension that’d been building the moment they came back to Dean without you, backing up from the green eyed Winchester who’d been staring him down with a narrowed gaze. It wasn’t hard to see that his patience was wearing thin, and he knew he was pushing it the more he stalled. “She—she went ahead! It’s not like we could talk her out of it!”

His fists clenched and relaxed at his sides at the reasoning he just heard, crescent shaped imprints of his nails left behind on his palms in the wake of his increasing anger.

“You let her out of your sight?” He said, far louder than before. He grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pushed him against the dilapidated old wall, the wood creaking under the newfound pressure against it and a cloud of dust forming. He’s more than tense as Dean crinkles his shirt between his fists, knuckles ivory white and jaw clenched tightly. He could see every freckle and every ounce of emotion in Dean’s eyes, that’s how close he was. He could see the angry quiver in his bottom lip and the flare of his nostrils, could feel his breath hitting his face as he stood pinned to the wall and his glasses even fogged up.

“What, you thought you’d play ‘Mr. Tough Guy’, try and protect her? Huh? Cause you sure as hell didn’t do a good job,” Dean grits out frustratedly.

“She said she’d kick my ass if I didn’t let her go ahead!” He splutters, nearly nose to nose with him.

Dean nodded, the smile on his face bitter as he slid his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” he says, sweating bullets by that point as he buckled under the pressure of Dean’s distress. He let out a noise when he shook him slightly and he knows that’s not the answer Dean needs to hear right now. “We were on the second floor when a door slammed around the corner!”

“Actually, they all closed so it’s kinda hard to tell which one,” Harry chimed in, growing timid the more he spoke as he stepped closer to Sam as some form of protection. He scratched the back of his neck and laughed nervously when Dean’s stare fell on him.

“Dean, we’ll find her, okay? Right now we’re just wasting time,” Sam says, noting Ed was two seconds from fainting from the anger radiating off the older Winchester.

Dean pushed him back once more before releasing his grip on his shirt, wrinkled and disheveled from the tightness of his fists. It was becoming increasingly more apparent that this was about more than just protecting Bobby Singer’s daughter. It was about more than just his annoyance with anything and everything that has to do with Ghostfacers. It was you.

He was angry, livid, as he snagged the flashlight from the table, storming off on his own. Not without his anger getting the better of him, a nearby chair taking the brunt of his frustration as it hits the wall. He remembers just what happened the last time he got stuck working a hunt with them, and he tried his hardest not to think about it.

Meanwhile, you found yourself stuck locked in a room you knew you weren’t in before you were taken. A room you didn’t even know existed in this house to begin with. For being a run down old building, the flimsy doors were stronger than they looked, but you suppose the powers of the supernatural didn’t really care about things like that.

Your knuckles were an angry shade of red, fists sore and throbbing from having pounded them against the door for the better part of what had to be ten minutes in an attempt to escape or at least grab someone’s attention. You were tired as you slumped back against the wall, tucked within the sparse circle of salt you managed to make. Your phone was dead and your flashlight was gone, your energy seemingly just as drained as everything else.

You could feel the I told you so’s coming from Dean, you knew they’d be there ready and waiting if you get out of this. It’s not like it had been completely undeserved, but you didn’t want to hear it. You knew you more than likely looked worse for wear as you sat within that circle, knew by the way you saw smears of crimson on your fingers when you wiped your cheek. It was no secret that you messed up big time with this one, you’d admit that, but admitting it to yourself didn’t help you in that moment and you certainly wouldn’t say it to Dean.

You found there were a lot of things you were hesitant on admitting to Dean, and in the current moment you weren’t so sure if you’d have the chance to bring any of them to light. Maybe it was for the best anyway, could save yourself the embarrassment of having feelings for the older Winchester in the first place. Though you can’t tell what was scarier, the thought of his inevitable discontent with you and your hunting capabilities should you make it out alive, or the very real possibility that you wouldn’t make it out alive.

Yeah, you definitely couldn’t decide that one.

You weren’t sure how or when you found yourself pining over green eyes; the two of you bickered more often than not each and every time you saw one another. If it wasn’t over the smell of your perfume filling up the Impala, it was the way his cologne hung on you after he gave you a hug just to make that happen, just to ruffle your hair after you’d just done it. It was the softer smiles you shared with each other without even realizing it.

But it didn’t really matter, not now it didn’t.

You were caught up with the sting of embarrassment coursing through you from having gotten lost in the first place—you were so adamant that you could do it on your own. It happens to Sam all the time, it happens to Dean all the time, but you couldn’t stop the heat burning in your cheeks or the frustration building in your stomach.

You didn’t know how much time had passed nor did you have a second to think on it before she appeared in front of you in a matter of seconds. The look on her face had you sitting a little straighter, back pressing to the wall behind you as you eyed the pitiful salt ring around you. She laughed tauntingly and you were beginning to think even that wouldn’t protect you, you knew it wouldn’t judging by the way each and every granule began to sift away and break apart it’s protective ring.

You swallow thickly as your eyes widened, both your gaze and hers shifting to the door briefly as it rattled. “Y/n?”

Your breath hitched, only the smallest bit of relief washing over you as her attention returned to you almost immediately. “Dean!”

She didn’t seem to mind his attempts at busting the door down, nor the axe that split through the wood. She knew full well she could send him across the room with a simple twitch of her finger should he break through, watching as you scramble to your feet.

In a matter of seconds she’d appeared mere inches from you, her hand grabbing your face, cold and unforgiving. You didn’t know just what it was she’d been doing, but you were more than aware of the pain beginning to lance through you the moment she touched your skin.

It was near unbearable, a sharp burn radiating through you as a pressure squeezed in on you, intense and unwavering. You were quite sure you’d never felt something so intensely, the feeling nearly taking your breath away. Of all the hunts you’d been on, of all the injuries you walked away with, they’ve got nothing on this.

One thing she didn’t count on was the handful of salt you gathered in your palm, too caught up in your demise to see you’d snagged it from the protective ring she broke. You pressed your hand to her wrist and watched her face twist and contort in discomfort, the action searing her arm where you’d touched it and releasing her grip on you in an instant as if you were venomous.

She pushed you to the wall in retaliation with a simple move of her hand, and if you thought she’d been angry now, you surely were mistaken. You groaned as the fragile old wall behind you cracked and crumbled around you, slumping on the ground once more in exhaustion. You caught sight of Dean’s face as the door began to give way, livid yet holding something you couldn’t quite place as your heart hammered in your chest.

But luck seemed to be on your side just this once, fear flashing across her face as she stood mere inches from you. Her yelp was shrill as she stumbled backwards, having burned up in a blaze of misery and screams. Your chest heaved as your shoulders slumped in relief, the heat of her disappearance having fanned over you and the door breaking loose in a heap of shards and splinters.

The pain she’d caused had begun to ebb away and subside, leaving the ache to remain and the fatigue you felt to rest heavier in your body as you stood to your feet with a bit of unbalance.

Dean had crossed the room in a matter of a few strides, the axe clattering to the floor as his hand settled on your cheek. You looked miserable, mascara smudged and a frown on your busted lip.

“You okay?” He asked, the furrow deep between his brows.

“Do not say ‘I told you so’,” you grumble, half humorous as you look up at him.

His lips purse, his thumb swiping over the cut running along your cheek that he was less than pleased about. Any other time he might’ve laughed, but not this time. The worried crease between his brows and the way his lips pointed downward at the corners had been telling enough that he wasn’t happy with the predicament you’d gotten yourself into, that he was the complete opposite of thrilled at the close call that had his heart pounding and his stress in overdrive. But right now he was relieved. You were here and you were okay, attitude and all.

Sam was first to rush in, Harry next and Ed hot on his heels as they stepped over the rubble and splinters of the broken door.

Ed’s own relief washed over him, happy to not be on the receiving end of an angry Dean Winchester’s punch. “You found her—”

“Shut it.”

It’d been quiet the whole car ride home, no music on the radio, no conversation, no quick witted jokes or typical conversation. It was quiet and it was tense, near uncomfortable as Sam was stuck in the tension between two people he knows have something brewing between them. But he said nothing, pretending he didn’t see the way his brother’s gaze flickers to the rear view every other minute to see if you’re okay, his jaw tense and his grip on the wheel nearly too tight.

Bobby wasn’t thrilled to see the way that spirit roughed you up, more than a few choice words thrown Dean’s way with anger in his tone. He expected that much, having braced for it the whole ride back. He didn’t argue, didn’t do much more than nod and clench his jaw, and he didn’t say just how it was that it happened in the first place either.

Now you were wandering through your dad’s house, quiet unlike it had been just two hours earlier. Your dad and Sam had both been asleep, the early hours of dawn beginning to roll around as dawn approached. You knew better than to believe Dean would be sleeping too, your thoughts confirmed when the door to the bedroom he’d been crashing in was still open, bed empty and still untouched from when he’d haphazardly made it the morning before.

You sighed when you saw him, sitting by himself on the back porch swing and the moment you stepped outside you saw the half-drunk bottle of beer in his hand. His gaze lifted to you when he heard the creak of the door, averting his stare moments later.

“It’s late, sweetheart. Go to bed.”

“Then why aren’t you in bed?”

“Not tired,” he says, tipping his bottle against his lips as he takes another sip of his beer.

You huff out a soft sigh, arms crossing over your chest. That’s when he looks at you again, the dimness of the porch light having illuminated the jagged scratch on your cheek, freshly cleaned as well as the mascara that smudged under your eyes earlier. The tension in his jaw had yet to go away, obvious as ever.

“Are you going to be mad at me forever then?”

“‘M not mad anymore,” he says, and you knew for a fact that’d been a lie.

“You’re not that good a liar, Dean,” you say, watching him set his drink down and stand to his feet, leaning his weight on the wooden railing. “I had it handled, you know,” you say, watching his expression sour at your words.

You heard his scoff as you brushed past him, a sigh leaving your lips because you knew he’d react just the way he’d been acting. You were right with him, you were always right.

“Had it handled, my ass,” he said, quick to follow after you. “I told you not to do that.”

“Yeah, well I did it,” you said, and he turned in front of you and spun around, keeping you from walking any further.

“Would you quit it with the tough guy act? You’re hurt and you damn well know it, I know it. Hell, anyone can see that. So do yourself a favor and stop pretending like you had everything under control because I know you better than to believe that.”

Your brows furrow as you look up at him with a squinted gaze, watching as his chest rises and falls, at the way there was something more than anger pooling in his eyes as he looked at you. You’ve never seen him quite this upset over you before, not really, never seen him look at you that way before. He was angry, sure he was, but it was different.

He wasn’t wrong, you were hurting, it’s not everyday you’re on the receiving end of a vengeful spirits’ wrath. You went off on your own when you shouldn’t have been so bold and daring. But you were here. You were here and you were okay and you knew you were bound to do it again on another case. It was what being a hunter is about. You didn’t get this far by sitting back and letting the monsters out there come to you, you had to go out and look for them and if you got a few bumps and bruises then so be it.

“Why are you so mad, Dean?” You ask, watching his eyes roll. “You go out and do the same reckless things on a hunt, you’ve come out on the other side way worse than I did. But since it’s me, suddenly it’s a problem.”

“Exactly, it’s because it’s you!” He repeats, frustrated as ever as he throws his hands up. “And yeah I’m mad. I’m freakin’ pissed. You come in here thinking you’re invincible and you’re not Y/n. I’m mad because…” he paused, letting out a breath as he rubbed his face, hands running through his hair.

He looked at you then, expression softening as he calmed down a fraction. “Forget it.”

“No, not forget it,” you say, grabbing his wrist as he starts to walk away. His jaw was clenched as he looked down at you, swallowing thickly as the heaving of his chest slowed and his grip on the doorknob was tighter than ever.

This was the first time since you’d gotten back that he’d looked in your eyes for longer than a mere second or two. You knew he was on the brink of storming off to sulk in his own anger and guilt because that’s what he always did. You knew there was something more to it than just what he’d told you. He’d like to think that you’d believe that he wasn’t angry anymore, that he was over it. But Sam told you what happened back there, how upset he got with Ed and just how worried he’d been. It was growing increasingly obvious that there was more to it than that.

It was then that you noticed you’d still been holding onto his wrist and he didn’t pull away from you, didn’t make a move to.

You tilted your head to the side when you mulled things over, and that was when the sudden realization hit you like a ton of bricks, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of your mouth.

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t do that thing where you try and ‘read’ me,” he says, quoting the word.

“You were scared,” you said, smile widening a bit and he huffs, pulling his arm from your loose grip. You hit the nail right on the head.

“I was just doing what Bobby asked me to do,” he says, adamant that that was his reason for being as upset as he was. Definitely not over the feelings bubbling away in the pit of his stomach, just waiting to go ahead and boil over.

“No, you were scared, De,” you say as he starts to turn away from you in an attempt to hide the smile threatening to show. “You were scared that I got lost.”

You always did that. You always took his anger and made it something else entirely and he’d try his hardest to keep that wall up. He was mad at you, mad at you for putting yourself in the same kind of danger he allows himself to be in with every hunt he does. But if you keep poking and prodding him and calling him out on his true feelings with that smile that makes him weak in the knees he does know how long he’ll last.

“You got this all wrong, sweetheart.”

“Sam told me what happened with Ed back there.”

His expression changed, softened a bit before he played it off with that familiar smirk. “Yeah, Ed’s an idiot and he pushed my buttons.”

You nodded then, your smile more than telling that you didn’t believe a word he said. You heaved a sigh, a bit of disappointment burning in your chest at his words. Because maybe you did have it all wrong, maybe his stubborn reluctance to be honest was just him telling the truth. Maybe he was just doing what your dad asked him to do. Being protective was in his nature, you knew that for a fact.

You brushed past him on the porch and headed to the door, the chirping of the early morning birds sounding and giving you enough of a reminder that maybe you should go to bed. That maybe you’ll feel better with a few hours of sleep. That maybe they would be gone, Dean would be gone by the time you woke up and you wouldn’t have to face the fluttery feeling and the ache in your heart until the next time you see him.

You spin on your heel to find him already looking, your smile soft. “Goodnight, Dean.”

Without so much as a reply you twist the old brass doorknob, pushing the back door open before his hand grips your wrist. You turned back to look at him, brows furrowed as you gazed up at him. He swallows thickly as he looks at you, lips parting to speak but the very words he’d been thinking of so vividly were stuck on the top of his tongue.

His hand loosens around your wrist and the tips of his fingers slide down to your hand to envelope yours, calloused and warm and hesitant. He takes all but a few seconds of your curious gaze, of the questions sitting on your tongue before he dips down and presses his lips on yours. It’s soft, featherlight almost as he pulls away just as quickly.

He doesn’t stray too far, his nose brushing against yours as he swallows nervously, but the sight of your smile put him at ease. Had him kissing you with just a little more vigor as his hand drops yours in favor of pressing to your cheek, your own having settled in his arm. Your smiles mingle and press into each other, the kiss soft and languid as your cheeks burned under his touch.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” You murmur, and the way he hummed softly, the way he stole another kiss in favor of admitting you were was telling enough.

He pulls back to look at you, his lips kiss swollen and pink as the beginnings of a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. His eyes bounce between yours and down to your lips, looking at you once more before he kisses you again. The anger he held is quick to melt when you look at him the way you do and he hates it, he loves it but he hates it because he really should be mad. You nearly got yourself killed and here he was weak in the knees and he knows you’ll be just as brave on the next hunt. He knows you’ll do just the same thing.

“Your dad’s gonna kill me,” he mumbles, smiling against your lips.

“Probably,” you say with a grin, his quiet laughter immediate as he pulls you closer.

But you were right. There was more to it than just protecting Bobby Singer’s daughter, there always was. As stubborn as Dean Winchester could be, you knew him better than that, and he knew you better than to believe you won’t make his heart race and his worry spike on every hunt after that. It’s just in your nature to be braver than ever.

But he’ll protect you each and every time.

—

Tags: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @lanea-1 @campingmonkey

[extasiswings]

That new trailer really got me y’all...

Carla steps out of the room to go find the nurse who promised to bring by discharge papers an hour ago, and Eddie stares down at his shoes—well, slippers, because he’s not going to be lacing anything any time soon—and sighs. His arm is in a sling, heavily strapped to keep his shoulder immobilized, and he feels unbalanced, off-kilter, even now that he’s in his own clothes rather than a hospital gown, even now that he’s getting ready to go back to his own home.

And maybe not only off-kilter physically.

Eddie glances at his phone—his texts to Buck since he woke up have gone unanswered, and Eddie knows he’s been busy, that everyone was busy trying to hunt down the sniper, but he still—

Selfishly, maybe, he just wants to see him again. And know he’s okay. To see a Buck that’s clean of blood and fear and desperation, the normal Buck, not the frantic hollowed out shell who saved his life.

He needs to know Buck hasn’t been wandering around stuck that way.

When he asked Carla the day before, Christopher got shifty, biting his lip with a face full of guilt before admitting that he had yelled at Buck and blamed him for not protecting him better. Eddie has called, texted—

But Buck still hasn’t responded. Hasn’t come by.

There’s an itch under Eddie’s skin.

It’s not right, he thinks. It’s not right that Buck isn’t there, that he hasn’t been there, because by Eddie’s side is where Buck should be, where he belongs—

Eddie swallows hard and cuts that thread off. It’s still a little too new to think about for too long, too fragile—a realization made in a split second of clarity when he thought he would never get the chance to really address it. He needs to sit with it, he knows that, but with everything else—

No, he can leave it for a little while longer. He has a long recovery ahead after all.

A tentative knock at the door pulls his focus.

Buck.

His heart skips.

They stare at each other in silence for a moment as Eddie tries to find words. Everything coming to mind feels too big, too soon, too much. And Buck looks—small. Fragile in a way that Eddie’s never seen him. Not even when he was the one in a hospital bed. Not during the lawsuit. Not ever.

Maybe during the tsunami. When he was wearing Christopher’s glasses. That’s the closest memory Eddie can find.

“You showed up just in time,” he manages finally. “I’m getting busted out of here shortly.”

“I didn’t—” Buck clears his throat and steps in, once again halting, tentative. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything. And I figured Christopher wouldn’t want to see me, so—”

“Christopher loves you,” Eddie replies. “He was scared, he lashed out, but he loves you. If you had been here any of the many times he was, he would have told you that himself. He feels pretty bad for what he said.”

“He was right,” Buck insists. He steps further into the room, settles on the edge of the bed, but still too far away for Eddie’s comfort.

Eddie’s free hand flexes on the mattress, hidden by his thigh. He remembers—remembers reaching out. Remembers just wanting to hold Buck’s hand.

There’s too much distance.

“No he wasn’t,” Eddie says. “He knows that. And I know that. And I know you, so I know that you’ve managed to somehow convince yourself that this was your fault, but it wasn’t.”

He blows out a breath and looks up at the ceiling.

“I got shot by a sniper, Buck. A sniper. On a fucking—” He has to clear his throat because the words stick, ice dropping into his stomach. “—a city street in broad daylight. Nobody could have seen that coming.”

“I still—” Buck looks down at his hands, his eyes distant. “I hurt you. I didn’t know what I was doing and I—”

“You saved me,” Eddie interrupts, and Buck sucks in a breath and finally looks back over.

“You saved me,” he repeats, and he wishes they were positioned differently, wishes Buck wasn’t on his bad side, because all he wants to do is reach out and touch, to close the distance, but he’s too far—

“Eddie—” Buck’s voice is barely a whisper.

“I’m alive because of you. That’s it. That’s all that matters. And I—” Eddie drags in another breath and it hurts. “I understand if you can’t be around, if it’s hard for you after seeing that, after everything you had to do, but—I’m gonna be stuck like this for a while and I need—I don’t know if I can do this without you.”

It’s as close as he can get to the raw edge, that fragile thread. It’s as much of a confession as he has in him.  For now.

It’s enough.

Buck swallows. His eyes are red.

“You really want my help?”

“Of course I do,” Eddie says quietly. “There’s no one I trust more. You know that.”

Buck clears his throat roughly and looks away, scrubbing at his eyes before he glances back.

“Then there’s nowhere I’d rather be,” he replies. He pauses, then adds— “You scared the hell out of me. I really thought—I thought—”

I thought you were going to die.

“I know.  Me too.”

The words stretch between them. Linger in the air. Buck exhales shakily. He gets up then, crosses around to sit on Eddie’s other side, close enough to press their shoulders together. His hand settles next to Eddie’s on the mattress.

They brush.

Eddie doesn’t breathe.

“So—” Buck says. “Tell me what you need.”

It’s enough. For the moment, it’s enough.

[tothemeadow]

I haven't seen much people requesting for snake bby so obanai x demon reader pls?Reader is like a succubus type of demon and when sent on a mission to kill her he falls into her clutches and it ends with smut 👀

‘in my dreams’ / Iguro O. x Reader

PLEASE STOP SLEEPING ON THIS MAN

warnings: NSFW, Obanai is a boob man, dream fucking?

words: 2,793

(a/n): I might’ve gotten carried away a bit

-

He’s always heard that sharks can smell blood on the water.

He isn’t a stranger to blood himself, used to the sightly images of gore and the rancid odor. It’s simply another part of his hellish life, bearing witness to mutilated remains of bodies and hunting down their killer.

It’s all in a day’s work.

It’s strange, though, when there aren’t any bodies to be found. Rumors of disappearances plague the night, travel from lips to ears, slowly spreading throughout the small town.

Takahashi’s daughter disappeared last night.

The doctor’s oldest son? Haven’t you heard? He’s gone.

For such a large number of people to be suddenly up and vanishing, it’s no wonder concerns have risen. It’s why Obanai’s here in the first place, determined to sniff out the culprit and promptly execute them. He’s dealt with similar cases before – finding the missing persons, only to find their remains or couple of bones – but this time… Well, it’s weird, to say the least. Not one person in this town knows where anybody could be, no strange sightings or feelings, nothing.

And, if Obanai is going to be completely honest, it’s infuriating as hell.

He’s not a patient person in the slightest. Perhaps that’s his curse and the sole reason why this case isn’t going anywhere; still, with the lingering danger hanging over these poor people’s heads, he needs to end this quickly. And so, cooped up in a small room at the town’s inn, he pours over his scribbling of notes, wondering just what kind of force he’s dealing with.

A demon’s nature can vary, depending on what kind you encounter. Obanai’s had his fair share of strange interactions – whether it be demons with multiple arms, pygmies, the facial features of a fly - he's nearly seen at all. But to take victims without leaving a single trace? That's where things get complicated.

"Dammit," Obanai grumbles, dragging a hand over his face. Kaburamaru flicks his tongue in concern, sensing his owner's unease.

This isn't going anywhere. The amount of time or effort spent trying to figure out where everyone has vanished isn't amounting to anything. How could this be? Obanai isn't some low level slayer, for gods' sakes - he's a Pillar. It shouldn't be this hard to put two and two together, yet here he is, staring blankly at his collected information. The idea of sending his crow to summon for help crosses his mind, but he hastily throws away the thought. No, that's not how this is done. He isn't willing to give up so easily.

As the hours drag further into the night, Obanai grows restless, twitchy. His striped haori sits to the side, folded neatly along with the shirt and overcoat of his uniform. Kaburamaru is already fast asleep, coiled into a tight circle at the edge of the futon. The wooden hatches of the window hang open, the night breeze drifting into the room with the sound of a singular solemn cricket.

A long, ornate kiseru dangles between his spindly fingers; it’s a rare occasion whenever Obanai smokes, so much to the point that the ones closest to him don’t even know he possesses such a fine pipe. He takes a slow drag as his he stares up at the moonlit clouds, the chilled breeze whipping the choppy strands of his hair against his bared cheeks. He wonders, truly, just how the hell he’s supposed to get to the bottom of this case if he can’t find anything to work with.

Perhaps the gods heard his woes - or he’s finally lost his mind - for an intoxicatingly sweet scent fills his senses.

Jasmine.

As far as Obanai knows, he hasn’t seen any jasmine plants when he came into town. This had to mean something - it had to. Opting his kiseru for his blade instead, he easily slips out the window, feet hitting the ground without a sound. Taking off into the night, he races through the town’s streets, eyes darting back and forth for anything out of the usual.

He comes to an abrupt stop when the scent of jasmine grows even stronger. He’s sure now that whatever he’s been looking for is here. A slight shuffling catches his attention; whipping his head to the side, a wooden hatch to a window bangs against the side of a house, but there’s no one to be seen on the other side. 

“Found you,” Obanai breathes.

Rushing over to the house, he drops into a crouch as he creeps closer to the window. Jasmine floods his senses, the irresistible aroma gripping onto his consciousness and practically demanding for him to come closer. Swallowing thickly, he ignores the sudden wave of heat flushing over his body as he peeks into the darkened room. A family of five lays on the floor, their bodies moving gently with the deepened breathing of a heavy slumber. Even now, Obanai has to resist the urge to shut his eyes and succumb to the flowery scent.

Although the room is dark, he can make out a strange pillar of smoke; ah, so that’s where the origin of the smell is coming from. Is it some type of mist demon? Flower? He isn’t entirely sure, but he doesn’t have the time to care. He needs to get rid of it now.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he unsheathes his blade, not wanting to attract attention to him yet. It’s a wish in vain, though; as soon as his blade is hanging in the air, the pillar of smoke rushes towards him, slamming into him and sending him flying. Obanai grunts as his back hits the ground, the sharp edge of rocks biting into the skin.

“Don’t you know that it’s rude to sneak up on others?” a low, creamy voice drawls. Goosebumps break out across the surface of Obanai’s skin and a shiver races down his back. The smoke dissipates, then, revealing a feminine figure.

Obanai’s breath catches in his throat. This demon - you - are unlike any other he’s encountered. Immediately, his eyes latch onto the pair of horns protruding from your skull, pearly at the tip and then fading into ebony. You’re strikingly beautiful, facial features soft yet demanding. Embarrassment warms Obanai’s face as his eyes drift across the curves of your body; your breasts swell over the tight, strappy top while the entirety of your legs and hips frame the long loincloth-like garment between your legs. Both your arms and legs have the same pearly sheen towards the end, just like your horns.

By the gods, you’re ethereal, even if the claws on your fingers could easily tear Obanai’s throat out.

“So is breaking into other’s homes,” Obanai manages to croak. Bringing himself to a stand, he takes a defensive stance, his blade held out before him. He feels strangely heavy, almost like his body craves to stay flat on his back.

Much to his surprise, you pout at him, arms crossing beneath your chest and pushing your breasts further up. “But it gets so lonely at night, you know?” you say, that seductive lilt in your voice deepening. At that, you make a show of sweeping your eyes over Obanai’s bare torso, and a slight smile grows on your pretty lips.

Obanai clears his throat. He can’t let himself fall for your tricks, no matter how incredible you smell or alluring you look. If these are the methods you rely on, chances are you’re a weaker demon.

“What did you do with the missing persons?” he asks, eyes narrowing.

“Missing persons? Is that what they’re calling them?” you say, a giggle following your words.

Obanai growls at your nonchalant confession. If there’s one thing he can’t stand about demons, it’s their inability of basic human emotion, the inability of compassion. Yeah, he decides that your head is going to look even better once it’s separated from your body.

“You see, pretty boy,” you purr, pressing a hand to your throat and dragging it downwards, brushing over a luscious breast and tracing over your exposed tummy, “in return for making their dreams come true, I get to have a snack.”

“Enough,” Obanai grunts, switching to an offensive stance. “Maybe I’ll be gracious enough to meet you in hell someday.”

Before you even have a chance to react, Obanai springs into action, launching himself off the group in a great leap, lungs tightening as he releases a breath form.

It doesn’t hit.

It doesn’t fucking hit.

In fact, you’re nowhere in sight. Instead of the dusty, moonlit road, Obanai finds himself in an onsen; a great bamboo pavilion stands tall above the pool of water, blocking the golden rays of sunshine from hitting him. Thin trees are scattered about the area, riddled with stone lanterns and garden rocks covered in moss. With a chorus of birds singing overhead, it’s like he’s in an entire new world.

Muttering to himself, Obanai scans his surroundings, wracking his brain and trying to figure just what the hell happened. One moment, he’s about to slice your head clean off and put an end to your terror -  the next, he’s in broad daylight in some overt paradise.

“Your dreams are beautiful,” that wonderful, wonderful voice of yours speaks.

Whirling around, Obanai sends splashes of water flying. “What did you do to me?” he spits.

You flash him a sly smile. “Why, I merely put you to sleep, pretty boy. Can’t be much of a threat if you’re not wide awake, no?”

Obanai curses under his breath. Of course you’re a dream demon - no wonder why there hasn’t been any bodies turning up. If only he had acted faster, got here sooner, more lives could’ve been saved. With a huff, he slithers further away from you, sinking below the water until only his face can be seen. “So what now? You’re going to try to kill me in my sleep? That’s a low blow and you know it.”

Sucking air through your teeth, you shake your head. Now that the two of you are no longer shrouded by darkness, Obanai really gets a good look of how utterly stunning you are. Again, he curses himself out, calling himself a fool for thinking such things when he should be killing you instead.

“Your blade isn’t here, if that’s what you’re wondering,” you tell him, a look of mischief crossing your features. “Silly boy - this a time meant for the two of us, not for you to end my forsaken life. Allow me to help you... relax.”

As you step to the edge of the onsen, Obanai finally notices the feeling of water caressing his thighs, his bare buttocks. You just had to make him naked in his dream, huh? What are you trying to accomplish, anyway? His eyes widen incredulously as your hands find their place on your torso, slinking over the swell of your breasts and around your neck; with a simple tug, your top comes loose. You merely let the garment fall to the rocks below, a small ‘oops’ slipping from our mouth.

Heat immediately floods to Obanai’s face and his groin; his insides squeeze in on themselves and he swallows thickly, thankful for the hidden protection the water provides. The look on your face is simply irresistible. Hell, even your breasts are as pretty as he imagined-

Shit, he inwardly curses, I shouldn’t be thinking like that.

But oh, you’re just so tempting, your hands squeezing your breasts, fingers rolling your hardening nipples as you stare directly at his flushed face. “Pretty boy,” you purr, “what’s your name?”

“Obanai.”

It’s out before he even knows it. 

“Obanai...” 

He really likes the way it rolls off your tongue, the dark glint in your eyes as you say it. Perhaps you can tell by his reaction alone - or maybe you like saying it - but you repeat his name, once, twice, thrice, and fuck does it drive Obanai insane. And then you’re reaching down, unfastening your lower garment and dropping it unceremoniously to the ground. Obanai’s cock twitches at the sight of your glorious body, the soft curves and glowing skin.

“Naughty boy, my eyes are up here,” you say. Again, you squeeze those beautiful fucking tits, a soft groan spilling from your lips. Obanai nearly goes feral from the sound; without further thought, he wades over to where you are. Jasmine clings in his nostrils, clouds his mind in a delicious haze, and he loves it.

You’re all too willing to meet his touch, body slipping into the heated water as he wraps his arms around you possessively. His body kicks into autopilot, mind going blank as he presses his lips to your throat. He should rip your throat out with his teeth, but there’s something magical about the way you arch into his touch, breasts pushing lewdly against his chest.

“Fucking-”

“Yes.”

A breathy moan spills from your lips as Obanai kneads your pretty tits, long fingers gripping possessively, wantingly. It’s almost ridiculous how hard he already is, his cock sandwiched between your bodies. He jolts as your hands land on his face, thumbs brushing against the ragged scars lining either sides of his mouth. 

“Don’t,” he grits, but it goes ignored. The air is sucked from his lungs as you brush your lips over his scars, murmuring something about how pretty he is before stopping at his mouth. You kiss him fervently, clawed fingers scratching his shoulders as you tongue the inside of his mouth. You swallow the husky groan that spills from his mouth, hand dropping down from his shoulder and wrapping around his hardening cock. 

“Ah, shit,” Obanai murmurs into your mouth. 

“Tell me what you want, pretty boy,” you whisper, hand slowly jerking on his cock. His breathing picks up as you quicken your pace, the water rippling with the movements of your wrists. “Your wish is my command.”

“Gods, you’re such a fucking tease,” he pants, eyes practically glowing against the pink hue of his face. Ducking his head, he sucks a nipple into his mouth, the wet warmth enveloping your breast and eliciting a delicious moan from you. Obanai wastes no more time, opting to prop you in his lap and pressing your back against a smooth stone. “I shouldn’t... but fuck...”

“It doesn’t seem like you’re angry with me anymore,” you husk in that damned sexy voice. A moan bubbles from your throat as Obanai starts rocking against you, cock slipping against your folds. It’ll only take a little push for him to fill that pretty cunt of yours, to stuff you full of his cock and fuck you raw. It’s what he wants.

“Shut up,” he grunts, mouth latching onto your nipple, his hand beginning to play with the other. A low, drawn out curse gets muffled by your chest as he finally slips his cock into you; it shouldn’t be physically possible, but your velvety walls seemingly clench around him and suck him in, your arousal making the slide impossibly easy. He hiccups on a breath, his entire body twitching as he pants. 

“The thing about succubi,” you drawl, sharp nails tracing down his spine, over the muscles in his back, “is that we’re the demons of sex and dreams. Oh, pretty baby, how much I’ve lucked out. Everyone else seemed like an appetizer - and you...” You pause, suck air between your teeth. “You’re like the damn main course.”

A helpless little grunt graces your ear as you fuck yourself on Obanai’s cock. His hips match your movements, your sopping cunt eagerly sucking him back in and squeezing around him. You’re so damn wet that it’s infuriating; Obanai wants more, more of your touch, your voice, that sweet scent clogging his senses. He can’t bring himself to stop touching your breasts, whether if it’s his hands or mouth. They bounce with the erratic rhythm of your hips, way too beautiful and hypnotizing. 

A breathless whine breaks through your cute little pants whenever Obanai smacks a hand against the ample flesh of your ass. “Is that you meant when you said you make others’ wishes come true? Have them fuck that tight pussy of yours? Huh?”

“Obanai, don’t be mean,” you pout. 

“Says a fucking demon that eats people.”

You hiss as his cockhead hits against your g-spot. “I can eat you too, so don’t get cocky, pretty boy.”

Obanai clicks his tongue, his brows furrowing. “You better keep that promise,” he grunts, thumb grazing your bottom lip. “I won’t take no for an answer.” He growls as your walls clench around him. 

“If that’s your wish, Master,” you purr, a slight chuckle following your words, “then it is my command.”

[ryosmne]

Tattoo artist! Sukuna x reader part 4

Hello, it's me your friendly neighborhood Sukuna simp, I don't have much to ramble about today, I hope you have fun reading this part :)

Series masterlist here

Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, implied smut that I'm too shy to write.

The café was unusually quiet today, maybe it's because the other days y/n found herself sitting at that exact spot by the window, Mai was the one sitting across from her. Today was different, Nobara took Mai's place for brunch after class, to be fair she hadn't showed up in some time so both Nobara and y/n jumped at the opportunity to spend some time together.

"So, does it feel lonely now that Yuuji and Mai spend so much time together?" Nobara asked, evidently trying to make y/n admit to some form of jealousy she was sure she had. "Not really, I'm happy she's finally with someone so good for her and she's finally off my back about hooking me up with random dudes" y/n said and she was honestly happy for her best friend, Yuuji was a very nice guy and in the past few weeks he's been seeing Mai, he's nothing less of a sweetheart and y/n saw him a as a little sibling even though they were roughly the same age.

"Of course, why would you be lonely, Sukuna's been keeping you company too." Nobara's eyes had a glimmer in them, not because she wanted to tease y/n, but she was very invested in the girls business with the oh so attractive tattoo artist.

Nobara did her homework on the guy, he certainly wasn't as polite or well mannered as he came across the night they met. He did seem like trouble at first glance, but the way he looked at y/n that night, or the times he waited for her to get off class to have some time together, Nobara would say that even a blind man could see that y/n had been tugging on Sukuna's heartstrings.

"It's not like that" y/n was once again flustered. What was she to the pink haired man, who missed no chance to be around her? "You're making out in his car in broad daylight, what is it like?" the brown haired girl chuckled, her friend was an idiot if she worried for a second about the man who looked at her like she would disappear at any second. "I don't know, but we aren't together like that, he's an interesting guy" y/n longed to be with him, she had a faint memory about him talking about something like that the time he spend the night with her, but then again, she was drunk and that could be her mind playing cruel tricks on her.

"Ok then whatever you say, I really hope you're not doubting the dude that cooked you ten different options for breakfast, after he took your drunk ass home."

"Wait how do you know about that- did Mai? Oh I'm gonna kill her."

Despite the tiny voice asking 'what are we?' in y/n's head, her days with Sukuna have been some of the best she's had. Granted they couldn't see each other that often, whenever they did, it was always better than the time before.

Sukuna had taken her to all the restaurants he knew were good, cafes with the best tiramisu she had ever tasted, taking an hour and a half to get to the next place he'd see her smile listening to her excitement filled voice as she told him how delicious the food was, then giving him some attitude mumbling about how she didn't expect him to have such nice taste, was the easiest victory to him, the highlight of his day.

He hadn't managed to get her back to his chair like he needed to yet, he had been so busy finding the best places to take her to that it seemed like it completely slipped his mind. It hasn't slipped Sukuna's mind though, he's just been nervous to bring it up again, what if she doesn't want to do that anymore? What if she changed her mind? What if she just agreed because she felt compelled to do so? Sukuna didn't know which one was worse.

Even on the days they couldn't see each other they were in touch, texting silly things or messing with each other. If a day was anything other good Sukuna could vent and let out his frustrations talking to y/n and she often did the same. Sukuna preferred calling her for that, not only to get things off his chest but because her voice was so calming to him, the need to hear it grew stronger each day he wasn't able to see her.

Afternoon classes were always adding to her demise, y/n even accepted Mai's gossiping over paying attention. Yuuji as she expected was as sweet as he looked, Mai was once again gushing over him and his adorable nature. Y/n just smiled at her friend who rumbled about the boy who, by now had a very firm hold of her heart. "You and Sukuna?" She asked, prying for any information she didn't already know from Yuuji. "Me and Sukuna" y/n stated back, shit eating grin on her face, knowing how not entertaining Mai and not feeding her what she wanted completely pissed her off. Y/n's phone buzzed from her pocket, giving her a little break from her friends curiosity.

Can I take you out after class?

Y/n's lips tagged into a small smile. "Speak of the devil" Mai teased looking over y/n's phone.

Hmm depends. Where to?

Its a surprise, doll

You know I hate surprises, but I can make an exception for you.

Mai pretend to gag next to her, but y/n payed her no mind. She had already seen enough from her and Yuuji to do the same.

You won't regret it, I'll be outside when you're done.

"Just don't make out in the parking lot again, being in his car doesn't mean that we don't see you." Mai was being Mai again. Y/n shoved her arm lightly and told her that they all knew how her and Yuuji sneaked around the bathrooms, laughing as her face flushed red.

Sukuna entered her field of view leaning against his car, finishing up a cigarette, looking too good for anyone not to stare at him. The total black outfit he had on did wonders for him, even if it was the simplest of crew cut shirts and sweatpants, every piece of clothing complimented him. Waving at Mai, y/n walked towards him noticing he's cocky expression. "Feels like you're eating me up with those eyes" he laughed, why must the sound of his voice be this melodic at all times. "Don't worry I missed you too" Sukuna said laying a soft kiss on y/n's lips as a greeting. If her fellow students weren't staring already, now they surely were .

" Where are we headed tonight?" Y/n asked fastening her seatbelt, she still kind of thought of Sukuna as clumsy, even though he's driven her many places, it's not that she didn't trust him, he was a very good driver. Hey safety comes first.

"You'll find out" he spoke with a little grin, before starting his engine and driving off.

Unlocking his door, he let y/n step inside first. Sukuna's house was surprisingly neat, everything looked to be in place, the décor was minimalistic. It felt like Sukuna very home-y, but then it didn't. It was too tidy, y/n didn't really think of him as a tidy person. The place also had his scent of sandalwood so y/n easily relaxed into the new space taking some more steps forward to look around.

"Bringing me to your house like this without taking me to dinner first, tsk should've known you were that type 'kuna." Y/n said in a mockingly disapproving tone "Who said that, I'm cooking dinner for you." Sukuna said draping his arm around her shoulders guiding her to his kitchen.

Whatever Sukuna had on his stove smelled scrumptious, making y/n's mouth water, maybe how pretty Sukuna looked with an apron on and a little sweat forming on his forehead from the heat of the stove helped too.

"You know, I would have never guessed you knew how to cook." Y/n let some of her assumptions fly in the room, she was the only one with a pass to talk about whatever she wanted with him. Sukuna wasn't going to shut her down. Y/n had leaned back on his table, her eyes roamed his figure freely. Sukuna would look over his shoulder smiling to himself every time he caught her in the act.

"I had to learn, Yuuji and I lived with our Grandpa, when he passed, it was just me and him." Y/n's heart clenched in her chest, Sukuna sounded different saying that. The truth is, Sukuna had never talked about that with anyone, he never made word of his grandfather's passing or the hardships him and his brother went through when they were left alone. He had mentioned to y/n that his and Yuuji's grandfather raised them, but from the way he spoke about him y/n was sure his Grandfather was doing well. "I'm sorry for your loss" was all she could muster at that moment, the pain in his voice was much too real for her. "Thank you, at least my brother turned out pretty good" he quickly changed the subject to something ligter, surprised at his self for opening up to her so easily. "You didn't turn out that bad either" y/n let the words spill, she had spent the past half hour blatantly checking out his back, she had nothing to get shy about. Sukuna let out a laugh, gripping his wooden spoon a little tighter throwing a glance over his shoulder. "Is that what you think?" Y/n shifted in her seat, how could this guy go from sentimental to laughing about his brother and to whatever this dark seductive tone was, she had no idea.

"Come on don't get shy on me, you were having fun checking me out just a minute ago, see anything you like" in the blink of an eye, Sukuna was slightly bent down facing her. Even after all the makeout sessions they've had that usually ended with y/n slapping his arm worrying that someone saw them and Sukuna looking at her with a cocky grin reassuring her that they gave a good show to whoever was watching, he could still make her all flustered, and she looked adorable like this, a deer caught in headlights. Sukuna kissed the tip of her nose, telling her she looked cute before turning his attention back on the food.

"Did you find that movie?" Sukuna's voice came from the kitchen, y/n was fumbling with the remote on his couch. Sukuna insisted on eating in his living room, he didn't want this to feel too formal, he still had whine out with fancy plates and everything, but he only wanted to cook for his girl and see her eyes light up eating his food, like they always did when she tried the food on the restaurants he took her.

"Yeah, here let me help with that." She said getting of the couch to help him set everything. "No no no, you go sit down, I'll do the work." Sukuna insisted, y/n only raised a brow at him and complied.

"Okay, you have to teach me, this tastes so good 'kuna" that nickname stuck, not that Sukuna complained, his stomach still did flips every time y/n called him that. She was looking at him just the way he hoped she would. The dish was quite simple, chicken with some red salsa and vegetables, but it was better than anything she'd ever tasted.

"I can give you a little cooking class, as long as you go grocery shopping" He offered her a little smile and y/n rolled her eyes playfully.

Y/n was leaning on Sukuna's chest with her arm hooked around his waist, he had a firm hold of her too, mindlessly looking at the screen but not paying enough attention to it. The movie y/n chose turned out to be a barely watchable C grade thriller and the two glasses of wine they had didn't make it tolerable either. Bad movie or not, having her under his arm like this was all he needed to feel calmer. Sukuna was so calm that he forgot why he brought y/n over.

"Can I show you something?" Sukuna spoke softly, looking down at her, y/n nodded in reply and groaned loudly at the loss of his warmth when he got up from the couch, Sukuna could only chuckle at her .

"Just two drinks and you're already a brat."

"Shut up."

Sukuna came back holding a big folder and some sketch books, y/n's curiosity picked and she found herself straightening up a bit.

"I've been dying to show you these." Sukuna stated as he flipped through the pages. Y/n's eyes danced all over the various shapes and designs he had came up with. Her eyes traced a particular three headed fox, she had never seen anything like that before, she reached out her hand to feel his drawing on her fingertips.

Sukuna's heart picked up its pace, she was currently in aww at his favourite piece for her. "Are those what you told me you came up with form me?" She was amused, she stared at him wide eyed not believing that anyone would ever do something like that for her, "Yeah, every design here is meant for you, you can pick whichever you like, but if you don't want me to tattoo you, I'll understand, you don't have to let me if you don't want to." Y/n couldn't believe it, there were enough drawings in here to fill her entire body in ink. She had hardly believed him when he said he had a vision for her sleeve, but this, this was out of this world.

"I don't even know what to say, these are so beautiful, but why did you go through all this trouble?" She still couldn't see a reason for it. "You've given me so much inspiration from the first time you visited, I can't get your skin out of my head, seeing you in my work is just surreal. I would do anything to do it again" Sukuna's words had not yet sunken in properly, y/n was still in disbelief.

Sukuna placed his sketchbooks on the coffee table, his hand prompting y/n's chin up so he can look at her face in the dim lights of his living room. "I will decorate any part of your skin you're willing to give to me, I'll give you the best work I can, please let me do this much." Sukuna almost sounded desperate, his face was once more too close and his wine scented breath tickled her lips, he had almost gone mad drawing in most his free time, and every time he saw her, a new idea of what would fit her popped into his head.

"You can do that" the moment these words rolled out of y/n's tongue, Sukuna had heard all he needed, and latched his mouth on hers, allowing his hands to explore more of her body. Between heavy breaths, Sukuna whispered about the softness of her skin, how he couldn't wait to mark her again, how he wanted her to be his canvas, his and only his. Diving in her neck once more, littering her sensitive skin with bruises she'd have to cover up tomorrow and her hands tangled up in his hair. "Just be good for me and I'll be gentle" His words only made her anticipate more.

The next day Sukuna was walking like the happiest man on earth, he woke up and had breakfast with his beloved doll, he had a smile on his face you couldn't miss. His co-workers didn't miss it either nor did they miss the huge forder he had under his arm when he came in, but they didn't question it.

Gojo spent his time teasing him about his unusual demeanor while Geto laughed to himself assuming what everyone else did.

Teasing him and prying about Sukuna's previous day didn't really work in Gojo's favour, Sukuna would simply ignore him and his smile still hadn't fadded. Gojo took it as his personal mission to piss him off when he had a lightbulb moment.

"Come on man, you talk about her all the time and when she comes over we're all working, when are we gonna get to meet her?" Gojo pushed, for the third time today, he finally found a weak spot.

The entire crew was curious meet y/n, properly this time at least, but Gojo was the only one who could confidently voice that. "Tell you what, go one month without fucking someone in here, and we can all go for some drinks tonight." Sukuna said in a joking manner, there was no way Gojo Satoru would agree to something like that, the man couldn't last two days on that deal, he was not about to give his word to Sukuna and take one for the team.

Gojo stood before the pink haired man, his glasses low on the bridge of his nose "Then, it's a deal" he said, obnoxious as ever with his hand extended for Sukuna to take. Sukuna knew Gojo was a man of his word, and if he shook on something, he would no doubt keep his end. Now Sukuna had to keep his as well.

Hey doll, I was wondering if you'd like to go grab a few drinks with me and the rest of the guys after closing?

Sure, I'll be there before nine, what's the occasion?

No need, I'll pick you up, they just really want to meet you, you don't have to come if you don't want to though.

Don't be stupid, I won't pass the opportunity of collecting blackmail on you.

Sukuna was smiling at his phone, that was so typical of y/n, his grin quickly faded once his eyes met the idiots standing before him with hopeful eyes. "Just don't do anything stupid" he sighed defeated before getting back to work, this was going to be a long night.

Y/n easily spotted Sukuna's car, he was parked just further down her street. Carefully swinging the passenger door open, she expected at least extra someone inside, but it was just Sukuna.

"Hey 'kuna." y/n greeted stepping inside, Sukuna faced her with a half smile, lazily bringing his hand on her jawline, pulling her in for a short kiss. "You're looking very pretty today, dollface." he spoke, still inches from her face, as his eyes traced her figure. Every inch of exposed skin begging him to mark it. Sukuna halted his wandering thoughts when y/n spoke again. "Everyone ended up ditching you in the end? cause you could've taken me out without an excuse like that."

"I wish they did, but unfortunately for both of us we'll have to suffer through it, I know you'd rather have me all to yourself." The mare glance he gave her from the corner of his eye as he put the car on speed was enough to have y/n's hear thumping in her chest. "Speak for yourself, airhead." Y/n's tone didn't lack at all in sarcasm. She did want him all to herself but she also was very intrigued by the rest of his crew, Sukuna always spoke about them. Whether it was stories from his childhood, college or everyday work things, y/n kept hearing about Nanami, Geto, Gojo and Megumi so she looked forward to getting to know them for herself. She had only seen Gojo and Nanami. Megumi and Geto had always been occupied when she dropped by the shop she would catch a glimpse of them tonight.

Sukuna's hand had taken a grip of her thigh, making y/n not so focused in their conversation. Sukuna was mindlessly squeezing while warning y/n about his friends.

The bar looked more like a museum in her opinion, still a very beautiful, elegant place. Y/n expected no less from Sukuna, he's already accompanied her to the best small restaurants and patisseries, sometimes she wondered how he came to know this many perfect date spots.

Sukuna had managed to slip his hand in her's the moment he noticed eyes on his precious doll and guided her to the table his co-workers were sat.

"You owe me 50 Nanami, they did show up."

"You're making me regret this already." Sukuna said, his head dipping slightly

"Come on 'kuna don't be such a grump" had that been y/n's voice Sukuna would've smiled down at her and his demeanor would instantly change, Gojo's voice only offered him annoyance.

Y/n took notice and softly brushed his hand with her thumb, Sukuna let a little laugh and proceeded to introduce the girl under his arm to everyone. "Y/n this is Geto, Megumi and you already know Nanami and Gojo here" Sukuna spoke pulling out y/n's seat as she shook hands with everyone. Gojo took the chance to piss his friend off, after all he would have to strictly work for the next month, he brought y/n's hand to his lips, giving her a compliment on her dress, making Sukuna red in the face.

Everyone took a liking to her very quickly, seeing exactly why Sukuna was so taken by her, she was witty and smart with a silver tongue that was also very sharp. Geto begun telling her about Sukuna's embarrassing drunk nights in college while Gojo laughed and even Nanami snickered. Megumi made Sukuna regret the day he considered taking him in his shop when he told y/n how he always cried as a kid if he didn't have a cookie after his meal. "That's why you always grumble about dessert?" Y/n asked him choking in laughter, Sukuna mumbled a reply and went back to looking annoyed, he was really happy to see y/n interact with his friends so effortlessly. This girl was constantly giving him more reasons to be around her.

Y/n was in the middle of a deep conversation with Nanami about philosophy, her eyes gleaming when he mentioned Plato's allegory of the cave. Geto subtly tapped Megumi's leg to get him to notice how Sukuna was resting his chin on his hand staring at y/n, who was blabbering about Greek philosophers, with the most sweet expression on his face any of them had seen. Gojo also took notice of that and an unspoken pact of 'annoy the fuck out of Sukuna' was made then and there.

"Have you thought about the next thing you want done or did you just want one tattoo?" Gojo asked the girl, breaking her conversation with Nanami a little too early for her liking.

"Yeah, I'll be getting some more work from Sukuna pretty soon" y/n replied proudly, her mind wandering to the night before to Sukuna and the beautiful pieces he came up with just for her. Sukuna perked up, his heart thumping by how happy y/n sounded with these words rolling out her lips.

"You sure you want him to do it though? You know I'm free if you need." Gojo's voice was condescending like always. Sukuna tensed up, jaw clenching at the thought of anyone laying a finger on y/n's skin. "Are you crazy? with work like this, I wouldn't let anyone else do it." Y/n laughed, Gojo must've been joking anyway.

Sukuna found so much comfort in her reply, she loved his artistry and never hesitated to show it, no matter how much of a brat she could be with him. Geto butted in the conversation too "y/n is right, look at how beautiful Sukuna's work looks on her, there's no way she'd change him." Y/n nodded at his words. "But I also do black and gray, I'm sure I could come up with something for you" Sukuna's eyes were glaring daggers at the raven haired man next to him, he remained oblivious to it laughing on the inside, Sukuna was so predictable.

"Thanks, but you said it yourself, there's no way I'd change him." Y/n spoke confidently, taking a sip of her vodka, knowing that at this point she was stroking Sukuna's ego and it would only grow bigger. Sukuna had no idea what everyone was onto trying to tattoo y/n, probably piss him off. From the looks of it, y/n wasn't going to let that happen. Nanami was observing quietly exchanging a few more words with y/n, he was right about her not taking other people's bullshit, Gojo couldn't pull anything with her, Nanami could see what Sukuna saw in her.

"Y/n, when you first came you were going to get tattooed by Megumi right?" Nanami spoke, Sukuna never expected him to join the others in their stupidity. "Yeah, he takes the walk ins right?" Y/n said casually, paying no mind to what Nanami was trying to do, the rest of them were also shocked that he decided to join in on making Sukuna's night a little hellish. Oh the betrayal.

"Did you want to get tattooed by Megumi?" Such a simple question, but Sukuna was at the edge of his seat "Yeah, I did, he was the reason I chose Domain in the first place, everyone loves this guy's work, I was pretty excited." Sukuna's face dropped, it's not like he didn't expect that, of course y/n came based on the reviews, he couldn't be mad at her for not booking him, she didn't even know him. He was pretty happy that he ended up taking her in that day, even if his insides boiled with jealousy at this very moment "Sorry for ruining your plans doll" the same smugness echoed in his voice "I can only stay mad at you for so long." Meeting his enlarged pupils and darker eyes, she could tell Sukuna was indeed, jealous. He had nothing to be jealous of, she didn't plan on leaving his side anytime soon, but when Megumi took his turn in the game everyone seemed to play, y/n found it hard not to join them. "If you still want to I can tattoo you since I never got to" Megumi knew he was walking on thin ice when Sukuna gave him a look that made him wish he was dead, these two got in fights all the time as kids and ended up with bruises all over them, if Megumi didn't ease up Sukuna would gladly remind him of the past.

"Uh, yeah, if you've got a design" y/n said with a bit of hesitation, Sukuna was seathin next to her, his hand aggressively palming her leg just above the knee. The rest of the night Sukuna didn't really speak, only leaned in y/n's ear to tell her to slow down on the vodka, the rest of the guys continued to talk amongst themselves as if nothing had happened.

Exiting the bar, y/n was walking- trying to keep up with Sukuna who walked fast to his car after mumbling a goodnight to everyone. Y/n regretted playing along, she'd never seen Sukuna this quiet. " 'kuna, I'm sorry I really didn't want to upset you" she said her eyes on the ground, gently tagging at his jacket, how could he ever get annoyed with her when she looked like that. Sukuna wasted no time swiftly taking a hold of her, his lips ghosting her's "I'm not that upset, only a little" his voice barely above a whisper, lips grazed over hers briefly. Sukuna didn't know if that was his heart or hers thumping so hard "I'm tired of dancing around it" his breath was hot, warming up her face making y/n's face impossibly hotter. "Dancing around what?" She asked with visible hesitation. Sukuna dipped down once more, not so softly this take taking her soft lips into his own, gently tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth, letting one of his palms to rest on her cheek and the other taking a loose hold of the back of her neck. Her arms naturally found their way around his neck. "I told you I want you all to myself" . Did he mean what y/n was thinking? Did y/n want him to call her his? Sukuna almost crackled at her puzzled expression. Sukuna wasn't one to express things this openly, y/n was a bit dense in that department so he had to, at least he told himself that.

"I'm starting to get a bit disappointed, I clearly remember you saying 'i would say yes' with some romantic mumbling" Sukuna said, stroking her cheek ever so slightly.

Her breath was striped from her lungs, it wasn't from the kiss this time. So that did happen, y/n's mind was not playing tricks on her, Sukuna had in fact asked. Her eyes once again gleamed looking straight to his crimson irises. "So will you be mine?" He was more confident this time, they had grown closer, laughed more, shared more, Sukuna wanted this from the very first session they had together and the more time he spend around her, the more he couldn't bare the thought of anyone laying their fingers on her. Perhaps Nanami's little show got under his skin way more than he could ever admit, but there was no way he's letting anyone mark her. Y/n was his personal artwork, only the finest of pieces shall taint her skin. "Yes, airhead" y/n said, finally having enough air to form words, still in his arm with a smile on her face, indulging him on another deep kiss. "Let's seal the deal then."

Sukuna finally got to fulfill his need, y/n was back on his chair late in the afterhours of the night. He finished free handing another of his designs he showed her the night before, the outline of her sleeve, with the Cerberus foxes he created just for her.

Y/n was standing in front of his full body mirror, examining the very delicate lines of his marker. His arms snaked around her waist, Sukuna could watch her admire his art for eternity.

"You look so beautiful in it" he simply stated, looking at their reflection he could only note her beauty. Y/n looked beautiful, beautiful on her own, beautiful in his tattoos, beautiful in his arms.

"Your art is probably the most beautiful thing I've seen, but you too are a close competitor" her voice crystal clear, she managed to make a faint pink dust his cheeks. Sukuna wasn't one to take compliments, but from her? He could listen to her little praises all day. "Now, now get your ass back on this chair, you're not getting out of this"

"I didn't plan to anyway."

Bonus Domain shenanigans: Megumi had the pleasure of opening up the very next morning, what the hell happened here, he was about to call the cops when he saw Sukuna looking scruffy and sleep deprived, emerge from the back room, same pants and undone dress shirt as the night before. "What the hell" was all that he could say. Sukuna was thankful he let y/n out the back just so they could both avoid the embarrassment that was to come.

"What happened here?" Geto asked the moment he came through the door, although he already knew, Sukuna was predictable. "Nothing happened" Sukuna groaned trying to get them to shut up, he just needed some coffee. He disappeared in the back again.

"yeah sure, 'nothing happened' does he think we're stupid or something" Gojo said to Nanami, who already had a headache and he hasn't been in for 15 minutes yet. "Stop it already nothing happened" Sukuna said, coming out in the front to order a coffee. Gojo stared at him, walked closer to him and began laughing straight to his face, "fuck you're laughing at?" Sukuna was confused

"Next time, clean the lipstick off your face and neck." Nanami chuckled while Gojo continued to laugh at Sukuna's frustration.

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[metagalacticx]

you’re crying because you’re ten.

Theo gets to go outside every once in a while, and he runs.

hi, so um. this idea of theo crying during his time with the dread doctors wouldn’t leave me alone? i wrote about it and i wanted to share it but i didn’t want to spend time editing it so here it is presented pretty much how it was typed in its entirety in @allyjostan’s inbox 💕 (this was inspired by her own writing about theo’s time as a child with the dread doctors).

cw and tw below the cut: blood, injury, canon-typical violence, thoughts about death.

Theo gets to go outside every once in a while, and he runs. He can do that now, without wheezing. Without the threat of another attack. In every hazy memory he still has, his mother’s shrill voice begs him to stop once he feels that first pang, but he’s been stubborn for longer than he’s been able to walk, and has always muscled through until his lungs burned. He’s running now, not away from anything, not really. But he’s panting hard and every few minutes he glances at the road he’s leaving behind. The toe of his sneaker snags in a crack and he stumbles, is quick to swing his arms to keep himself upright, but he falls anyway. His elbows hit the ground and his knees skid. Every surface of skin that’s made contact with the asphalt stings. With a sharp intake of air he cranes his neck, then rolls over with a grunt. There’s the expectation, faint in his head, for someone to rush over and ask if he’s okay, but he squints down the road he’s trying to leave behind and no one’s there. It’s just him and the setting sun. 

At first he doesn’t get it. That neither his Mom nor his Dad will come running (because being sickly since birth meant physical endeavors were supervised); Tara doesn’t shout and tell him to stop crying either, doesn't run over to check that he’s okay. His hands— palms chipped and riddled with flecks of street— are strong enough to push himself to sit, with tears staining his face, blood on his knees and the stinging pain that hasn't got any better yet. Because he still heals so slowly. They promised he’d be stronger, that he would never feel pain again, but it hurts so much. He keeps staring at all of it— the mess of bloody, peeled skin— wondering what to do. And nothing seems like a good idea. Eventually he stops crying, not because it hurts any less but because he remembers why he needed to run. So he stumbles into standing even though the cuts sting, because he has to make it on time; he turns his back to the sun and starts again. The pain gets worse but he keeps running. -

He’s at the skatepark. The abandoned one with the tops of the ramps covered in overgrowth and their bellies stained with the shapes of dried-again puddles, two streets from his school. He hasn’t been in a while. He thought it’d been a few days but sometimes when he runs past after the bell, he doesn’t recognise any of the kids or the cars. 

There are no lights that flicker on to make up for the dimming sun; he knows he only has about twenty minutes of daylight left before it’s too dark to judge where he’s supposed to land. He can see in the dark now, but it’s hard for him. They told him he’d develop so many abilities but even on good days he’s lucky to do any of them. So he doesn't want to try skating in the dark. It’s after bargaining with himself to try the flip once more that he falls, and he thinks he’s okay so he tries getting up; has to yelp in a mix of confusion and pain when his arm won’t move. He’s never broken a limb before— because before the Doctors he’d had asthma, and having asthma means not doing enough physical activity to break any bones.

But this feels close enough to broken. It hurts like hell.

He tries moving his fingers and his thumb twitches.

The others just lie there on the ground, unresponsive. Splayed just like him.

There’s a drawn-out whine as he tries to move again but he can’t and it’s starting to upset him because he needs to go. He doesn’t want to stay here in the dark. He doesn't want to get back late. He doesn't want to make them mad. Again.

If he just lifts his shoulder, he thinks, he can at least drag himself off the ground, but it doesn’t work. It just hurts more.

He uses his other hand, tries to lift it that way, and the groan echoes around him. The pain is sickening, makes him want to hurl everything in his guts out onto the ground.

With his teeth clenched he tightens his hold around his arm and drags it off the ground, sits up and goes to his knees. He’s trembling. It hurts so much, but he’s got his arm up. He thinks he’s okay but he’s still shaking. He tries breathing hard. Through clenched teeth. In. Out. In. When he breathes out he sobs. No tears come at first. Just the broken sound from his throat. He closes his mouth to keep the sound in. Then he tries breathing again. In. Out. In. He sobs again, tightening his hold on his possibly broken arm. In. Out. In. The next breath out is the worst. His throat burns and his eyes do too. Tears stream their way down his face, and he just keeps sobbing. In. Out. In. Out. In.

-

He’s lying on the table and the Geneticist is above him, talking to the Surgeon. They’re talking like they normally would (which is still very abnormal for him because the sounds give him a headache). But he clenches his eyes shut to prepare for whatever else they have planned for him tonight, today… he’s not sure what time it is. He thinks he’s been lying down for a couple hours but last time three days had passed. He doesn’t remember sleeping.

The Geneticist says something and the Surgeon agrees. She leaves the room and he feels colder, the air sinking around him like the chill from a freezer.

The Surgeon says something that he can’t make out but it doesn't matter anyway. The Surgeon never waits for him to respond. Nothing he could say would change anything, so like always, he imagines his eyes are open, staring up at the instruments he still can’t name.

The first sting is from a needle in his leg. He’s used to that. He’s still more used to feeling them elsewhere. Before the Doctors. When he would have Tara’s favourite teddy bear beside him on his tiny bed. Before.

Now, it stings. His leg stings. It’s no longer familiar. The pain starts from his calf and scorches its way up his thigh until his hips are burning and then his belly is on fire. He wriggles a bit on the metal bed. His face is scrunched because he’s grown more tolerant to pain but he’s not immune. It really, really hurts now. He tries to say something, he’s not sure what, maybe that it hurts… maybe to ask the Surgeon to stop. But what comes out is a discordant wail. He can’t form the words. And then he remembers as the pain reaches his throat and he feels like he’s being torn open from the inside, that even if he could form the words, it wouldn’t matter, because the Surgeon wouldn’t listen. He never does.

He lies there on the metal bed writhing and screaming as the pain wraps around his neck and fires up his jaw until it finally reaches his head. He screams, long and raw and loud. It hurts more than anything ever has. He’s sure he’s dying. There’s nothing in his head now. Just burning, searing pain. He’s sure he’s dying. He screams until his lungs burn. Until everything is on fire and he can’t feel.

He screams until he thinks he’s dead.

-

The fourth time he’s not sure why he cries. He’s walking around an empty house. The Pathologist tells him he’ll be living here from now on. It’s a lot like his house in Beacon Hills. Except this one has a basement. Two steps at a time, his ten-year old legs carry him upstairs; there are two rooms. His house had three. Tara’s room was more like their room, and his room was where he’d go if they had a fight. He’s staring at the closed doors and the thought comes, that his house probably only has two rooms now. His parents’. And his. Empty and dusty like it always is. Because he was hardly ever there. Now there’s no Tara so her room is gone. His parents are gone too but he had nothing to do with that. Tara’s room disappearing is his fault.

He opens the door farther from the stairs and peers inside. There’s a bed. Some trophies on a shelf. Shiny, gilded evidence a sporty kid used to live here. Before they disappeared. People tend to disappear a lot wherever he shows up.

He sits on the bed for a while, staring out the curtain-less window. It’s bright and sunny outside. If he wanted he could probably go skating, find a sidewalk and forget everything. That usually helps.

He stands, puts one foot in front of the other to make his way downstairs, but he slips, careens towards the door and his head smashes against the edge. His body crumples in the doorway. There’s blood. There’s so much blood. He tries to push himself up but his hand slips in the slick, red liquid and there’s a sickening crack as his chin hits the floor.

He doesn't try to call out. No one would hear him. Everyone’s disappeared.

Instead he flips over and the back of his head knocks against the floorboards.

There’s blood on his face, above his eyebrows and over his eyelids. Before it gets into his eyes he wipes the back of his hand across his face, swiping blood in his eyes because his hand is covered in it.

It stings.

He clenches his eyes shut but it doesn't help. There’s blood in his eyes. His head feels light. It doesn't hurt that much.

It doesn’t really hurt at all.

When he opens his eyes, they leak: running down the side of his face, across his temples and to the floor. At first he thinks, groggily, maybe he’s bleeding from his eyes. Maybe his own blood’s poisonous. They told him he’s immune to so many things now that they’ve made him whole but he still feels pain and he can’t eat old donuts he scavenges without feeling queasy. And he’s still clumsy.

It’s then he realises he’s crying.

He doesn’t know why.

It doesn’t hurt.

None of it does.

But he’s crying.

-

Theo’s sitting in a cage.

By now he’s used to it. He knows how to get in and out without alerting anyone. Or anything. Sometimes though, he thinks the Pathologist knows.

But he doesn’t get punished so he slips in and out when he feels it’s safe enough.

(It’s never actually safe but he’s gauged how much he can endure from his little trips around the lair).

He hasn’t been outside today, tonight… He still doesn't know what time it is. He doesn’t remember sleeping, but his eyes burn so maybe he’s been awake the whole time.

It’s not safe today.

So he stays inside.

His head is on his knees, turned so he can watch the tiny bulb near the doorway flicker. He’s timed it perfectly so each time it does he closes his eyes and opens them at the exact moment it flickers back on. 

His eyes burn.

The bulb flickers, he closes his eyes, breathes out in perfect sync with the darkness enveloping the room, then opens them just when it flickers on. Perfect.

He does it again.

And again.

Close, breathe out. Open.

Again.

Close, breathe out. Open.

Again.

When he closes his eyes this time the light doesn’t go out. He can tell because he sees red behind his eyelids instead of the dark he’s used to. The nothingness he’s worked up the courage to face. He opens his eyes when he’s supposed to, and the bulb goes out.

It never comes back on.

Theo sits there in darkness, the whir of an old fan in the corner and the hum of electricity the only stimuli for his senses. After a while his eyes stop burning, but he doesn't sleep. Can’t, really. He hasn’t eaten in a while, and his stomach is starting to hurt. It feels like a cramp, like it’s twisting, folding in on itself. They said he’d be so much better at everything since they fixed him but sometimes Theo doesn’t really want to use any of his new abilities. Sometimes he just wants to eat. So he keeps his eyes closed. Keeps his head on his knees. Hopes his stomach keeps twisting on itself. Until it twists itself out of him. So he wouldn’t need to eat. Hopes the lights never come back on. Hopes when he opens his eyes again it’s just as dark and silent as it is in his head. He hopes he can fall asleep like this, forever like this. He doesn’t want to breathe in and out to the flicker of bulbs. Doesn’t want to slip in and out of cages anymore. Doesn’t want to move from house to house, or lay on metal tables and scream himself to death. He doesn’t even want to skate anymore. Doesn’t want to run. Doesn’t want.

But… Maybe if he could… he wouldn’t mind seeing his parents again. Or Tara.

His eyelids are still closed but the thought of Tara makes them flutter. He doesn’t really remember her anymore. He wants to.

Sometimes he sees her, in the river. Theo, she said.

Sometimes he sees her, across from him, when he’s on a metal table. It’s okay, she says.

He’s not sure which is real. They both feel like the last time he saw her.

Here, in the darkness, he wishes he could see her again.

She probably wouldn’t know how to slip into his cage, but she’d reach out, he knows, to wipe his tears. Why are you crying, it’s not like you’re going to die, she’d say.

He wishes she could say that just one more time.

So he could tell her that maybe this time he will.

[kmorales1]

Office Affairs

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: Explicit (Anyone under 18, go away, thanks.)

Warnings: Uh, unprotected sex(this is fiction please wrap it before you tap it), i'm bad at this. One(1) mention of spit(whoops).

A note: Hey, so I wrote this in an hour and (maybe) a half. This entire thing is purely based off my intense yearning for Javi the past few days(more like weeks). Also he's incredibly hard to write for so I hope I was able to capture his character. This is also my first time writing smut, let alone posting it. Be gentle with your critics lmao. It might not be entirely cohesive but I tried really hard but anyway this is what my brain popped out.

Javier Peña is the type of guy to take you home for a quick fuck, cuddle you like he’s in love with you, and then leave an hour later without barely a glance in your direction. You know this, you’d heard the whispers about him in the embassy when you were making your way to the filing room, or to the break room for your afternoon lunch.

And you believed them.

The first night Javier took you home you were 99% sure that you’d get the best fuck of your life out of him and then he’d be gone before you could even ask him to stay the night. And let’s be honest you wanted him to stay the night. To feel him pressed against you, his broad chest against your back, his breath fanning over the back of your neck. God, you yearned for that man. Or maybe just a man, it’d been a while.

You weren’t entirely wrong though, you did get the best fuck of your life out of him, but you also found the Javier that was sprawled in your bed, a lit cigarette between his lips, wasn’t the same man he was in the daylight of the office.

He was quieter, soft spoken, almost open.

The first few times he had stayed for a bit after to lay pressed beside you talking about work and you had even managed to pull a few details about his life back home. A few. But those few details only left you craving more, and who could blame you. He was intoxicating. You hadn’t been expecting it and now that you saw it, you wanted more.

“You know, you’re different like this.”

You had practically whispered the words to him, a little scared you might somehow push him back into the person he was in the light of day. But he only offered you something almost like a smile and leaned forward to press his lips to yours.

“I think, maybe i’m just different with you.”

He didn’t elaborate or say anything more, and you didn’t say anything in response. Cause what could you say? He’d pressed you open into the mattress a few minutes later his head between your thighs. Taking you apart slowly whispering filthy things as he brought you over the edge.

Your heart clenched as he laid his head on your thigh afterwards, his hair an unruly mess.

You wanted him like this all the time.

You weren’t naïve,though. So you didn’t think much of the way he laid beside you, or the things he said to you. He could feed any pretty woman words to make them feel special, and no matter how much you wanted to be different, something told you weren’t.

That became apparent when you started seeing less of Javier and hearing more about his informants and the other women he would bring home some nights. You weren’t mad, nor jealous, but you weren’t exactly fine either.

Coming home from a late night at work you had passed him and who you assumed was one of those said people that were whispered about. She was laughing at something, his arm locked tight around her waist guiding her down the hall. His face didn’t match hers but he certainly didn’t look unhappy, and when you crossed their path trying hurriedly to get into your apartment before seeing something you didn’t want to, he barely spared you a side glance.

Fine.

You stopped giving him the attention he silently would ask for in the daytime. His gaze burning hot on your body as you silently sipped your tea in the corner of the break room. Or the way he would brush your shoulder as he passed your desk. It’s almost laughable how he could seemingly seek your attention out one minute and then act like you didn’t exist the next. You didn’t play into it and things were fine.

Until they weren’t.

“You’re ignoring me, princesa.”

He’s got you cornered in the filing room his broad form practically towering over you. This is the closest you’ve been to him since you’d seen him that night, or the occasional time he would purposeful bump into you in the office.

“Hello Javi,” You barely managed to hold onto the papers in your hands. His close proximity to you slightly knocking you off center. You weren’t entirely lying when you said things were fine, but him being so close and the smell of him nearly overpowering was reminding you of the parts that were exactly not fine.

“I’m sorry i’ve been so busy.”

That’s a lie. You know it’s a lie, he knows it’s a lie. Things had been incredibly slow the past couple of weeks. Pablo in hiding from a recent raid that hit a little too close to home.

“I think we both know that’s a lie,”

And oh, is his voice a little breathier.

You curse yourself quietly, because you’re supposed to be putting this behind you. This man only sought you out when he felt like it when he was bored. But the way he’s pressed so close to you, if you just leaned forward a tiny bit. His eyes are skimming over your face, like he’s taking in the changes he’s missed in the past few weeks he hasn’t seen you.

There’s a tilt of his head and a small push forward and his lips are a near inch away from yours.

“Don’t you miss me, baby?”

Your knees nearly buckle.

He called you that exactly one time before. A rough raid with Carrillo had him stumbling into your apartment at nearly 1 am, luckily you had just gotten home from work and were still awake. His shirt was damp with sweat, the color of it slightly darker than the original pink, a stray mark of blood on his face- you later found out wasn’t his. He’d been needy, the way he had pressed you into the counter in your kitchen, fucked you within an inch of your life it felt like. Growling filthy things into your ear, praising you, before pulling you roughly to the floor(his back didn’t forgive him for days after that) and sliding you onto him. You’d rode him hard and fast nearly sobbing your release. He’d came up to cradle you to him. Whispering baby and your name reverently into your hair. You didn’t talk about it, what had made him so frantic. You had to practically peel yourself away from him and when you did it had broken the spell. He was up, fixing his jeans, kissing your forehead and then he was gone out the door before you could even get words out.

Javier whispering your name brings you back to the present, his eyes are locked on your lips and fuck-

Your fingers are dropping the papers and urgently sliding up his back to curl in his hair, pulling him the last bit of distance to bring his mouth to yours.

You’ll tell him later that you don’t forgive him for that debacle with the woman he brought home with him and you’ll also tell him the other things that have been pent up for the past almost month. And if he doesn’t like it oh well, but god right now all you want is to be fucked by this infuriating man.

“Javi-“

Your plea is broken as his tongue swipes the inside of your mouth his hands holding firmly to your hips.

“Javi please”

He shushes you, his leg coming to press between your thighs, right against where you want him the most and you nearly keen at the relief it gives. His thigh flexes and applies just the pressure to send your hips sliding forward.

“Quiet, princesa you don’t want anyone to hear,”

Oh fuck. You’re at work right now. You’re at work fuck. You’re at work. You remind yourself again.

One more time you’re at work-

But no one really comes back here. (that’s a lie)

His hands are guiding your hips roughly, and you’re practically riding his thigh. The feeling is too much and not enough all at once.

“Anything, Javi please.”

You’re breathless whimper has him growling under his breath as he pushes you deeper into the cabinets. His hands tear your skirt out of the way, pushing your panties aside before dipping his fingers into your center.

“Baby, fuck you’re so wet,”

His fingers leave you momentarily to slide into his mouth. The hum that leaves him is enough to push a wave of slick out of you, and you eagerly grip any part of him you can reach.

“Is this for me? You have missed me,”

The smug look on his face makes you want to roll your eyes, and you would if he wasn’t currently sliding his fingers back into you and curling them just like that-

“Fuck! Javi,”

The hand that is grasping your hips leaves to hurriedly slap a hand over your mouth. His eyes are burning into yours his teeth bared slightly.

“I said quiet, do you want our coworkers seeing how much a slut you are for me?”

He licks a line up the side of your neck before coming to suckle and bite lightly on your ear.

“Youd like it wouldn’t you?”

You’re practically dripping at his words, the squelching noise from his fingers fucking into you roughly is nearly obscene. You’re so close you could cry, if he could just give a little more.

“More,”

It’s a desperate plea for anything and it’s slightly muffled by his hand but he gets the message. His hand drops and you’re caught off guard by him roughly undoing his belt and pushing his pants down enough for his cock to spring free.

You nearly moan at the sight, long and thick with precum gathering at the tip. Fuck it’s been so long you want to taste. But he’s got you shoved back up against the nearest filing cabinet, his hand back over your mouth as he nudges his cock against your clit.

You keen at the slight pressure it gives before you jerk at the feeling of him sliding into you fully his hips flush to yours.

“Fuck, hermosa,” his teeth are clenched tight the cords of his neck strained as he whispers praises into your ear.

"Baby you’re so tight, missed you.”

You don’t even have time to process the last part before he’s almost urgently pulling out to slam back in. You want to worry about the noises that are being made but just as the thought comes in it’s gone. He’s fucking into you hard, his hand still covering your mouth tightly, trying hard to mask the moans that are escaping you. The slight jingle of his belt buckle as he roughly pounds into you shouldn’t be as erotic as it is. His head is pressed to your shoulder and you can feel the air from his mouth as he pants.

You’re so close you can practically feel yourself dripping down your thighs. One of your hands is curled tightly in his hair and the other snakes down your body to rub between your clit. Your breath is coming out harsh from your nose meeting the warm skin of his hand and god the thought of his hand over your mouth as he fucks you is so much you think you might come now.

But then his hand slips away and he’s sliding it in your hair to tilt your head back. Baring his teeth he gives one particularly hard thrust before demanding.

“Open.”

Immediately your mouth snaps open and he spits.

"Fucking swallow it."

You do, quickly before you lift eagerly to meet his mouth, teeth clinking harshly.

“Javi i’m gonna come-“

He’s pulling back, whispering urgently in your ear .

"Do it baby, do it now. Cum for me."

You’re pushing to meet his thrusts hurriedly chasing the orgasm you feel tightening in your stomach.

“I said now,” The harshness in his voice sends you reeling. You keen, a little too loudly to be in your office building, the thread snapping as you tumble over the edge. Your cunt clenching hard around him. Somewhere through the haze you feel Javier bite roughly into your shoulder and his cock jerk inside of you as he cums.

His hands are sliding around you to pull you into him his face meeting your neck as he pants, his cock softening inside of you. There’s a pleasant sounding hum from him as you card your fingers through his hair your nails scratching lazily at his scalp. The room is humid and sticky you suddenly come back to yourself, sinking down from your post orgasm high.

“Javier,”

The change in your voice has him pulling back to look at you before his eyes widen in understanding.

Yes, basking in the after sex glow isn’t the best idea at the moment.

“We can talk after work okay?”

There’s a nod from him before he’s sliding out of you with a hiss and tucking himself back into his jeans. And there’s a lot to talk about, he isn’t off the hook, and you’ve got to think it over because you know you have technically no right to even be upset.

You’re adjusting your skirt when you feel him cup your cheek.

“I really did miss you.”

Its said quietly, almost like it’s a secret.

And momentarily, you forget everything you need to be confused about with him.

"I missed you too."

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 11.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Maya Jump Scares (My Fave!), Sweet Yoongi, Talks of BDSM, Mentions of Hard and Soft Limits, Sexual Teasing, Introducing OC to BDSM, Kissing, Panty Kink, Use Of The Color System, Bondage, Training Orgasms, Daddy Kink, Breast Play, Degradation (Slut), Squirting, Mentions of Lactation Kink, Yoongi Cries, Pet Names, Fellatio, Face Fucking, Edging, Multiple Orgasms, Embarrassed Yoongi

A/N: Good luck. I'm fucking DEAD. Always a shout out to the greats @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna

Yoongi probably hasn't slept this well in a long time. Probably since he was a kid.

It's difficult for him to rouse from his slumber. It's comforting to feel your limbs contorting around his. He can feel himself drooling on your pillow distantly.

Everything feels like a dream right now. 

He can feel your head laying on his arm. His hand is pressed to your stomach still and he feels such peace.

Opening his eyes, he can make out the chandelier on the ceiling. The daylight rays that bleed through the window bounce off of the Swarovski crystals that hang and they sprinkle the walls and ceilings with rainbow lights.

He would have never noticed these things before. Did last night change something in him? 

Looking around the room, he jumps at the sight of Maya as she leans against the marble wall.

He sighs loudly, his hand running through his hair as his heart beats rapidly.

"What?!" he mouths to her.

Looking over at you, he brushes some hair off of your sleeping face. The baby must be making you so tired.

You did work hard last night on the delicious dinner you made. That might tire you out too.

Maya raises her eyebrows at the both of you in bed.

You groan at the light that now shines on your face since your hair has been moved.

Throwing your body over Yoongis' with a whine, he shushes you gently on instinct.

"Go back to sleep, little dove. You're alright." he whispers gently.

"It's twelve o'clock." Maya mouths to him, holding up his Rolex watch.

He's late for work.

Looking down at you, he watches how peaceful you are in your sleep.

He doesn't care about work. He's perfectly content where he is. 

He flicks his hand, telling the woman who is like his mother to go away. 

With a smile, she bows her head. "Sir."

"Yoongi?" your voice is laden with sleep.

He finds himself smirking as you whisper his voice.

"Right here. I didn't leave," he promises as you pick your head up off of his arm.

"I slept like a brick," you mumble.

Chucking to himself, Yoongi can only agree.

"Me too. I'm late for work." he jeers.

You sit up quickly, eyes roaming the room before finding the digital clock by the bed.

"It's twelve! You're so late!" you gasp loudly.

"It's okay, I'm the boss, little dove."

"That's not a good excuse," you jeer, shoving his shoulder with a laugh.

He finds himself chuckling as he lays back down on the pillow. "I can work from home."

You pout at him, combing your hair over your shoulder as you sit up against the headboard.

"I haven't been up to the third floor, yet." you admit, stretching your limbs to a satisfying degree.

"I can show you what's up there. Maybe after we eat some brunch," the father of your child suggests, laying back down on the pillow.

"I'd like that," you reply, warmly.

Last night, you discovered so much about the man lying beside you. You could never imagine how hard his life has been. It's really a shame. 

But, there are times you find his sweet side peeking out. And you decide to focus on those instances from now on instead of the others.

He deserves it. 

You deserve it.

"Why haven't you made yourself at home?" Yoongi asks, gently.

Looking around the room, you notice the cardboard boxes of paintings and stuffed animals. Small little knick knacks piled up without a place to go.

Humming unsurely, you look around the room. "I just didn't feel like my stuff was good enough to put in here maybe? I didn't really feel the need to do it." you reply with a shrug.

Yoongi scoffs gently as he stands, twisting his back with a groan. The sounds of his bones cracking echo throughout the large room and you smirk as he walks over to the boxes.

You watch his legs contort and flex through his briefs and the image of his pert backside makes an eyebrow raise.

He is really good looking.

Picking up a stuffed red panda, he tilts his head at the cuteness. His eyes look down into the box and he notices just how many stuffed animals you have.

"Jesus, why do you have so many?" he asks with a laugh, continuously picking up some of the toys big and small.

Sitting up to look past him, you giggle.

"Every year during the Fall Festival, I get at least two. Their fun to get! Makes fun memories!" you reply happily as you stand up.

"You can remember every single memory for each stuffed animal?!" he sounds bewildered and it makes you laugh.

"Of course!"

"No fucking way!" he jeers.

Stepping beside him, you watch as he rifles through the box.

Pulling out a panda at the bottom of the box, he hands it to you.

"What memory is that, smarty pants?" he quips, leaning against the glass door to your balcony.

Your lips purse as you stare down at it.

"Well this is Yukhoe, I got him at the fair… seven years ago, I think? I won him for getting the most consecutive balls in the one thousand point hole during skeeball."

"Bullshit!" Yoongi cries with a laugh.

His laugh is so pretty. Even the gummy smile he gives you is heart stuttering.

"I'm serious!" you reply, shoving him gently with your hand.

He snorts loudly, rolling his eyes as he folds his arms.

"You should put them up if you have so many memories," he insists looking around the room.

You hum unsurely, placing the toy down to grab at your stomach.

"Or maybe you can put them in the babies' room? That'd be nice," Yoongi mumbles absentmindedly.

You find yourself smirking even amidst your morning sickness. He's being so kind. It's making butterflies appear when you thought it could never happen.

Finally, he looks back down at you. He notices how you clutch onto your stomach, how you lean against the armchair for support. 

"You feel sick?" he takes it upon himself to tie your hair up without argument.

"Just a little," you reply.

Helping you sit down, he crouches beside the chair. He rubs slow, soothing circles to your back as you rest your elbows on your knees.

"It'll go away," you promise. 

"I know, little dove. Sesame gremlin is really molding your body to how it sees fit," the CEO whispers.

Your heart feels warm as he speaks such kind words.

"You remembered," you whisper in awe, turning your head to look at him.

He smirks, furrowing his eyebrows. "I remembered? That you called it a sesame gremlin?"

You nod happily as he chuckles.

"That's our baby name for now, why would I forget that?" he asks, confused.

"Just didn't think you cared that much," you reply, the nausea starting to ebb away.

"Oh, I care. It's just hard for me to show it sometimes… Most of the time." he whispers, brushing some stray hairs away from your cheek.

You hum sweetly, a noise that fills the man beside you with glee.

"I feel a little better," you whisper, sitting back up.

"Good. Let's go get you some water and food, hmm?" he asks softly, helping you stand.

Watching you walk away to the bathroom, Yoongi can only describe this past encounter as comfortable. It just seems right. It feels domestic and warm. 

It feels so perfectly his.

"Frederic, that was amazing!" you say, setting down your fork.

The chef looks up at you from the pan, a wide smile set on his face.

"Madame. You flatter me. I am just your humble serviteur," the man says, bowing to you.

Yoongi rolls his eyes with a chuckle. 

It didn't take long for him to call his office and tell them that he would be working from home. But, it was just long enough for him to begin missing you while you were in the shower.

He's starting to become attached to you. He's only ever felt attached to Maya. 

"You have to go work, right?" you ask him as he wipes his mouth with a napkin.

He nods slowly, picking up his coffee while turning to you.

"Yeah, just gotta go over a few documents. You can come up with me though, if you want to. Bring a book or something?" he sounds shy as he asks you.

Not too long ago, that question would have made you feel uncomfortable. But now, you're more than content with agreeing.

"Sure, I'm almost done with a book I took from the library," you reply as he helps you down from the stool.

"What book are you reading?" he finds himself asking, his arm extends, politely telling you to walk first before him.

"Atlas Shrugged," you reply, ascending the stairs.

The prospect of you reading such a large book makes him impressed.

"When did you start reading the book?" he inquires softly, the both of you landing on the second floor.

"Two days ago," you say, walking towards your studio to grab the book.

"You're almost finished with a one thousand page book in two days?!" his voice is filled with awe as you pick up the hardcover book.

Turning to him, you press the book to your chest with a smile. "Well yeah, it's a great book."

His lips purse, seeming impressed. "Well goddamn, you're an enigma aren't you, little dove?" 

 The third floor is perfectly grandiose. There are small cases filled with what seem to be heirlooms lining the marble walls. 

"No one really comes up here." Yoongi explains as you walk through the large hallway.

The two wings at the top seem to be filled with crates and boxes. There are white sheets that cover many pieces of furniture and at night you would hate to be up here. It seems like it would be creepy and daunting.

"Most pieces of furniture and the art and statues in the crates haven't been added down to the museum wings, yet. I just leave them up here." Yoongi says as you wade through them all.

"So interesting," you quip, lifting a white sheet to look at the pretty furniture beneath it.

"Kinda creepy." Yoongi says, folding his arms.

You hate to admit it but you nod along with his words.

"Just a little," you reply with a giggle.

"Come," he whispers softly.

As you continue back to the main hallway, you feel his hand on your lower back once more and it fills you with a sense of calm. 

He's getting good at that these days.

"This is my office," he says, opening up the double doors.

Everything in this room is pristine and you can tell that it's never been used before last week.

As you go to step inside, your feet linger as a black door down the hallway catches your attention.

"What's that room?" you ask, curiously.

Your feet taking off without you.

"Oh, little dove! Wait!" Yoongi cries out as you step in front of the door.

It has a fingerprint key to it. Seems secretive.

"This is just a room of my hobbies and stuff," he sounds absolutely embarrassed.

His hand rubs at the back of his neck and you notice how his irises shake with nerves, looking from the room and then back to you.

"Show me," you whisper as he leans against the wall.

He hums unsurely. 

You sound so excited about it. 

"It's really not for you to see." he replies.

Frowning, you tug on the door handle which gives no reaction.

"Come on. It can't be that bad. Unless, you have dead bodies in here," you joke.

Rolling his eyes, he sighs gently. He doesn't want to see you frown. So, against his better judgement -- he puts his thumb on the fingerprint scanner. The noise echoes throughout the silent floor and he clears his throat awkwardly.

"It's a BDSM room. I've never used it though," he says quickly, opening up the door.

"Whoa," you whisper as the room is opened up to you.

Automatic lights turn on as you step inside. 

The walls are all black marble and the large bed that sits at the far end of the room is mocha brown. 

You can tell the sheets are satin and luxurious even from far away. 

But, the main thing that catches your attention is the multitude of cabinets and drawers that line the walls almost artistically.

Yoongi watches you with nervous eyes. He watches how you run your hand over the wooden fixtures that line the walls.

"What's this?" you find yourself asking.

You point to a large black X figure that is attached to the wall.

The CEO rubs his hands together nervously, pushing himself off of the door frame to walk closer.

"It's an X cross. You hop on these footrests and you get shackled to it," he sounds uncomfortable as he speaks.

"Cool." you reply, setting down the book to hop on.

"Whoa! No! You're pregnant, be careful!" he whines, putting his hands on your rib cage to keep you up against the cross.

"So? Just because I'm pregnant, doesn't mean I'm broken," you quip, putting your hands on his shoulders.

"Little dove," he admonishes softly.

He looks up at you on the cross and the dirtiest things begin to flit through his mind.

Imagining you naked, with your hands and feet shackled to the cross. Seemingly incapacitated as he strokes your pretty pussy. 

What would it be like if your belly was bigger? He'd be able to rub--

"Get down," he begs.

Rolling your eyes, you hop off of the cross.

"You're no fun," you quip, walking around him to the wall of riding crops and canes.

"I am fun!" he retorts, folding his arms once more.

"What's this?" you ask softly, your fingers running through the multitude of leather strands that hang from the top.

"It's a flogger," the father of your child mumbles through gritted teeth.

He sighs softly as you pull it off the wall.

Rearing back, you snap the flogger to your hand and your palm sings with the devilish sting.

"Ow," you whisper softly.

Yoongi watches your eyebrows contort in pain and he's quick to rip the toy from your grasp. It tugs at his heart.

"Stop. You're going to hurt yourself," he admonishes, once more.

The way he speaks, even if it's supposed to come out gruff and annoyed, it just sounds caring and worried. Which is why you're perfectly okay with continuing along with your nosy inquiries.

"Do you like to flog people? Or hit them with this?" you ask, taking a large, thick cane off of the wall.

The way he sighs, it makes you smirk.

"Depends on the situation. How bratty the sub is being," he throws the word bratty right at you and it makes you smile.

"So would you be caning me or?" you quip as you turn to him.

His tongue licks at his lips at the prospect of it.

"I would be fucking wrecking you until you're begging," he mumbles, pulling the thick cane out of your hand.

"So let's play," you whine, tugging his hand over to the bed.

His eyes flutter shut and it takes all of his inner strength to pull away from you.

"You're pregnant. Stop it," he chides, hanging the toys back on their appointed shelves.

"No fun," you mumble, sitting down on the bed.

The bed hugs you comfortingly and you hum in appreciation laying back.

Turning to you, the father of your child watches as your shirt rides up. He can see the small little bump beginning to form and he clenches his teeth at the sight.

"I have to work," he reminds you, watching you run your hands over the satin sheets.

"Go ahead. I'll be here, playing with myself. You have vibrators?" you giggle as his eyebrows furrow.

"Come on, little dove," he says, already heading to the doorway. 

With a small giggle you stand up, you'll break him. In time.

It's difficult for Yoongi to pay attention to work, once again. His eyes keep drifting to you over his laptop. You finished the book in the first hour that you've been in his office. 

Now scrolling through your phone, you pretend not to notice how he stares at you over the lip of his computer.

The light from your phone highlights your swollen breasts and the CEO finds himself shifting in his seat a multitude of times. 

Just thinking about you in that room is doing things to him. He constantly tries to swat away the thought of having you in that room. But it's becoming more difficult as the hours go on.

What's so wrong with having sex with pregnant women? 

There's really nothing wrong with it per se. But he feels like they should be more paternal, no? You're carrying a child, would you also be indulging in sexual acts? 

He doesn't know how to feel anymore. Like he's thought countless times before, you're fucking with his head.

"This says that Doms and Subs have a contract," you speak aloud.

Yoongi huffs out gently, putting his hands over his face. 

You're getting too obsessed with this.

"Sometimes," he replies softly.

"Do we need to have a contract?" you ask with a smile.

He snorts gently at how pleased you look.

"No, little dove. We're not having sex, so of course there is no need for a contract." he says through gritted teeth.

You are really something else.

Crossing your legs, you scroll through the website.

He tries to focus on the many words that are staring him in the face but he keeps looking back at you as your eyes continue to light up.

"Oh! Soft limits. Let's start here," you say happily.

Yoongi puts his hands in his hair, tugging softly on the strands.

He feels like he's going crazy.

"Y/N, please," he whispers, almost begging you.

"We promised each other that we would be truthful to one another."

Rolling his eyes, he replies. "Yes, in the sense that if either of us asks a question we would answer it honestly. Not in the sense that if you suddenly find yourself on a BDSM website, you feel compelled to tell me the truth about what soft limits you're setting for yourself in a non-existent dom slash sub relationship." 

Scowling playfully, you roll your eyes.

"Well. My soft limits are as follows."

Yoongi sighs loudly, grabbing the glass of whisky off his desk to keep his thoughts at bay.

He feels his lips tugging upward as you look through the website.

So annoyingly cute sometimes.

"Breast bondage is a soft limit. Because they hurt a lot right now," you murmur.

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, his eyes narrowing at you.

You're trying to rile him up. He can feel it.

"Little dove," he warns you as you lean closer to the desk.

"Nipple clamps, not sure if I'd be okay with that right now. Anal play, never done it so I'm not sure if I'd like it. Over the knee spanking, won't be able to do that soon." 

Yoongi sips his whisky slowly, letting the warmth of the alcohol curl around his muscles.

"You've never had your ass played with before?" he asks, obviously intrigued.

Got him.

"No. I've only ever been with a few people before and they didn't seem into that sort of stuff," you reply.

He scoffs gently. Your ass is one for the ages, you should have been played with.

"Maybe after you give birth, I'll show you." he suggests above the lip of his glass.

"Sounds like a promise," you quip.

He smirks gently, leaning back into his chair. "Maybe, little dove." 

"What are your limits?" you inquire, trying to push him more.

He hums, closing his laptop. Clearly, he won't be working anymore today.

"I usually only write hard limits. No fecal or piss play. No straight jackets. No pony play. Shit like that." 

"I have no idea what any of that means besides the shit play," you reply, making him laugh.

"Why are you so obsessed with this all of a sudden?" Yoongi inquires, raising his eyebrow.

"Well it's something you enjoy, so I'm curious about it! You took an interest in my painting. And, I like the idea of getting interested in what you enjoy. You seem very safe and protective of your hobby and that's great!" you say happily, leaning against the desk.

The CEO hums gently at your kind words.

"You're so sweet," he mumbles, resting his chin on his hand.

Fine, he'll play along.

"Is fisting a soft limit or a hard limit?" he inquires.

Locking your phone, you turn your chair more towards him as he throws his feet up on the desk.

"I've never tried it before but it seems painful," you reply honestly to him.

His tongue slowly licks over his lips at the simple thought of you beneath him.

"What about butt plugs? Any preference?" 

"Never tried them," you whisper, picking up your glass of water.

His lips sputter as you tilt your head. 

This feels so free and so right. It's playful and fun. The sexual tension just adds to how normal this all feels.

"You haven't tried a lot of stuff, have you?" he asks, taking his feet off the table to stand.

"No actually, I haven't. I've always been kind of prude when it came to sex. Me and you in the back room was just a one off really. I don't really do that sort of thing," you explain truthfully.

He hums in agreement, rounding the desk. "So I'm special?" 

You certainly think so.

"Maybe," you whisper, your head tilting as he steps behind your chair.

"If I show you my hobby one time, will you leave it alone?" he asks gently, bending down to your ear.

His breath is warm against your now flushing skin.

Since getting pregnant, when you aren't feeling sick or tired, you've found yourself overwhelmingly horny. It's almost a fucking sin.

"I don't think you'll be able to satiate yourself after just one time," you quip, feeling his hands run over your shoulders.

"Oh, little dove. I have the patience and strength to keep myself at bay." he replies, his lips drifting over the shell of your ear.

Yoongi thinks if he can just get this out of his system once then it'll be safer. He's been without sex for a while now and he's perfectly okay with keeping it that way. He'll just take back some wank bank footage and then he won't have to continue thinking about it.

"Will you be gentle with me?" you find yourself asking, your voice sounds small and it makes Yoongi's cock begin to harden beneath his briefs.

"I'll take very good care of you, little dove. I promise." he says, holding out his hand.

You feel excitement starting to creep through you. You've been thinking about this for a while now, if you're being honest. When you had sex with him in that back room, it was the greatest sexual experience you've ever had.

Taking his hand, you find him smiling down at you. 

"Come on, little dove. Time is money." 

His voice is more playful this time around and it makes you giggle. Winking at you, he tugs you out of the large office.

"We'll go by the color system for today, okay?" the father of your child asks softly, unlocking the secret room with his fingerprint.

"Color system?" you ask, gently.

He hums in agreement, running his hands over your sides as the door shuts behind him.

Bending down, his eyes flicker to your lips. 

God, he hasn't kissed you in so long. Is this something else he can indulge in just for today?

Taking shallow breaths, his hand cups your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut at the softness, breath hitching as you wait patiently.

This feels so right.

Without a second thought, he presses his lips to yours. 

You've almost forgotten what he tastes like. You've forgotten how excited and on edge you were in that back room.

Groaning against your lips, the tip of his tongue traces the seam for you to part for him.

His hands grip at the globes of your ass. "Jump." he whispers against your lips.

Doing as told, you mewl into the kiss. You wrap your legs around his strong waist, hands carding through his hair.

His tongue is rough over yours, taking the small gasps and moans you give to him freely.

Yoongi walks towards the bed, laying you down gently as he climbs over you.

Pulling away from you, his lips are red and raw. His eyes are hooded with lustful intentions.

You've both been thinking about this for a while now. 

"What do you say to me if you want to play?" he asks, sitting up.

Your eyes trail over his body, finally landing on his erection that strains almost painfully through his pants.

Licking your lips, your mind completely goes blank.

"Little dove, you answer me when I'm talking to you. Or have you forgotten?" Yoongi asks, running his hands over your clothed legs.

Your mouth opens to reply but it isn't fast enough for the CEO. 

Pinching your inner thigh just hard enough to cause a reaction, he smirks as you squeal softly.

"Answer me, little dove. Or I'll go back to my office and we can forget all of this playful fun," he threatens.

Pouting up at him, he simply chuckles.

"Daddy." you whisper.

"That's it." he replies, bending back down to kiss you.

You can feel your loins beginning to curl and unfurl with hopeful desires. 

"Take off your clothes only on the upper half of your body. I wanted you stripped by the time I get back to this bed," Yoongi's voice is dominating as he whispers against your lips.

Reaching up to kiss him once more, you find him already pulling away. 

"You're not going to fuck me?" you ask, quickly taking off your clothes to accommodate his words.

"No, little dove. You're pregnant," he reminds you, digging through a drawer for rope.

You roll your eyes at his words. It's always pregnant this or pregnant that.

"It's perfectly safe to have sex while I'm pregnant y'know," you tell him hopefully as you unhook your bra.

"I'm sure it is, little dove." he replies softly.

Once he finds rope that he thinks is suitable, he tugs it in his hands a few times to hear the fabric snapping back onto itself.

The sound sends a shiver down your spine, your heart starts to beat faster with excitement.

"Are you naked for me?" he asks, focusing his eyes on the many toys that hang on the wall.

"Yes," you reply, breathlessly.

He's afraid to turn around. What if he falls deeper into his lustful ways for you if he sees you so bare before him?

He has this unrelenting fascination with you so far. Something that truly makes his palms sweat. You're so good and kind, so beautiful and understanding.

What if he just continues to fall? He doesn't know how he'll be able to cope or cushion himself.

He musters his strength. 

Turning around, he takes in your swollen breasts, your veins visible against your skin from how huge they're already becoming. Your nipples are bigger, darker and puffy.

"Oh fuck," he curses under his breath.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He's not going to be able to keep this at a one off at this rate.

"Are they okay?" you ask nervously, looking down at your breasts as he continues to ogle.

"You're gorgeous," he assures you, walking slowly back over to the bed.

With the sweet compliment soothing you, you find it easy to lay back.

Drifting his thumb slowly over his bottom lip, he takes you in.

"Take off your pants," he instructs as he sits on the edge of the bed.

He watches you do as told, his eyes drifting over your breasts to the small bump that's growing slowly but surely.

You're a vision to look at. 

Unfortunately for Yoongi, he's already becoming attached to you in everything. 

"Give me your panties," he commands.

"I think you have a panty kink," you quip, throwing your underwear on his lap.

Chuckling, he stands up putting your panties into his back pocket.

"Just your panties, little dove. We're going to go over some instructions before we play, okay?" he asks, running his free hand over your bare side.

The warmth of his hand makes your body go rigid. You nod understandingly as he bends down to kiss you.

"When I'm with a new sub or," his thumb grazes over your cheek as he pulls away from you, "a very beautiful mother of my child. There needs to be rules." 

"I'm listening," you reply, earnestly.

"We're going to use the color system. Green means it's okay to keep going. Yellow means to proceed with caution. Red means to stop. If you say red at any point, that's it. It's over. We don't have to play anymore. If it gets too much you have to make sure you tell me red, do you understand?" his voice is gentle as he explains.

"Alright, that sounds fair." you say as he lets the rope fall loose from his hand.

"Can I tie you up? Is that okay with you?" 

The prospect is too good to deny. You nod with a small smile, sticking out your wrists.

"Repeat your colors for me while I tie you up, little dove." he instructs, pulling your arms over your head.

"Green for okay, yellow for slow and red for stop." you repeat for him, the neediness starting to seep into your voice. 

"Good girl," he praises you.

Pulling the rope tighter, he makes sure you have breathing room but not enough for you to get out.

"You're good at tying knots," you compliment, tugging on the restraints.

Yoongi chuckles as he slips down the bed to tie your feet. "Just call me a boy scout."

With a giggle, you wiggle your hips playfully as he travels south.

His eyes narrow up at you, a glint of happiness flitting through them as he smiles. He nips at your outer thigh, earning a gentle groan from your lips.

He doesn't even need to watch how fast his fingers move to tie you up, he could honestly do it with one hand behind his back. Instead, he decides to focus on you. To focus on how you squirm for him and how shallow your breathing is. He watches your chest heave up and down, your nipples turning into stiff peaks at his longing gaze.

He wants to remember this, remember all of this because this is a one off. And, he has to remember it as such.

Hopefully.

"You okay?" he asks, finishing up the knot tying.

"More than okay," you reply.

"We're going to try to train your orgasms, little dove. Make it so that your orgasms belong to me and only to me," his voice is gruff, the prospect of having your orgasms to himself and only himself is sending him into overdrive.

"You can do that?" you find yourself asking.

Situating himself between your stretched legs, he begins to smirk.

"I can, if you want to give your orgasms to me. Do you want that?" he asks, brushing some hair behind your ear.

While he has been caged off, you haven't been. You understand him more than ever and it would be special to have him control something so powerful. He's already given you a child, given you somewhere so grandiose to live. You can give him your carnal pleasure. 

So you nod.

"That's my girl," he whispers with a wink.

Bending down, his lips trace over your jaw. He takes in every hitched breath and every signal of rigidity as it sets into your bones.

"Your tits look so good." he compliments, earning a gentle gasp from you.

Your head turns, wanting to give him more access to the column of your neck. 

"You're going to need patience, little dove. You need to give yourself over to me completely, do you understand?" 

You can feel your arousal beginning to soak the sheets beneath you, your hands strain against the ropes begging to feel his body. "Y-Yes Daddy, I understand," you whisper softly.

"Good. I'm going to let you cum once and you tell me when you're about to cum, do you understand me?" he asks, pulling away from the shell of your ear to lock eyes with you.

You feel yourself falling into his mocha irises, can feel yourself wanting to give him your everything. "Yes."

"Good," he kisses your lips gently.

His lips continue to kiss over your skin, your hips bucking into the air for more.

"Behave or I'll stop," he threatens against the column of your throat.

Your eyes flutter shut, lips pressing into a straight line as he gently suckles on your skin.

He leaves small cherry blossom petals in his wake as he continues to lavish on your skin. 

This training is something Yoongi has always been good at. He's always thrived from being in a position of power. But for once, he has an overwhelming urge to please. Something he hasn't felt… well ever. 

Moving his hands up your side, you gasp loudly as he gently cups your breasts.

He shivers at how full they feel in his hands, how swollen and sensitive the skin is beneath his palms.

"Oh, Daddy!" you moan as he squeezes softly.

"What's your color, little dove?" he can barely contain himself above you, his cock is so hard and throbbing within the confines of his jeans.

"G-Green, Daddy. Feels so fucking good!" you whine, your head lolling back as he continues to squeeze.

"Fuck, I bet it does," he whispers, kissing over your collarbone.

Pulling away from you, he can see how flushed your skin is. He can see how swollen your clit is already becoming and he knows that he can make you cum easily without even having to touch you.

"You're a little slut, aren't you?" 

You whimper at his words. It takes you back to the night you were together.

You enjoyed hearing how dirty he could talk. How perfectly degrading his words can be.

"Your slut, Daddy. I promise," you moan out as his knees knock your legs open wider.

"Yeah, I bet you are. Pregnant with my baby and letting me take your pleasure how I see fit," he mumbles.

Biting your bottom lip, your body shudders as his thumbs swipe over your sensitive nipples. 

You gasp loudly, your body undulating beneath him.

"I've-I've wanted you to touch me for so long," you moan, tugging on the restraints. 

His lips turn upwards into a smirk at your words. He's been wanting it for a while too.

"Me too," he replies truthfully.

His thumbs and index fingers nibbley roll your nipples.

Trailing his eyes over your body, he can see how much arousal is trailing down your perineum and soaking the bed. His eyes flutter shut at how gorgeous and vulnerable you are beneath him. 

He lets his lips trail over the curve of your breast, releasing one to reach for the apex of your thighs.

Your body shudders under his touch, preening for more.

Picking up your spilt arousal on his fingers, he suckles on them. God, he almost forgot what you taste like. 

"Jesus Christ." he mumbles.

His tongue peeks out, flicking quickly at your stiff peaked nipple.

Your gasps and moans goad him on, he can barely pay attention as your breath becomes shorter and stunted.

You can feel the band within you tightening.  

You would have never thought that you could be on the brink of an orgasm with Yoongi just playing with your breasts.

"D-Daddy, I'm so close." you whine, spreading your legs wider with hopes your center will be touched.

He hums in agreement as he forsakes one breath for the other.

He makes a mental note of how sensitive you are for him. 

Suckling your nipple into his mouth, he moans against your skin. 

"Daddy, I'm cumming!" you moan loudly, your back bowing off of the bed as white hot pleasure courses through your bones. 

He pulls off of you, rolling and pinching your nipples with his fingers until you're orgasming beneath him.

Your ears ring, mouth going dry as you babble his name incessantly.

"Good girl, little dove." he praises and he raises an eyebrow as you squirt onto the sheets below you.

He takes all of this in. Every little reaction you had to his advances, all of your ques to elude to your orgasm. You'd be very easy to train. 

He waits patiently for you to come down from your orgasm, stroking your skin lovingly.

"What's your color, beautiful?" he asks softly, palming the erection in his pants.

"G-Green." you whisper, already wanting more.

You don't want this to end, and you don't want this to be a one off.

"Well aren't you just such a good little sub," he jeers, bending down to kiss you.

You could get drunk off of his kisses. They make you feel on top of the world. You want to please him, really and truly please him.

"Can I suck your cock, Daddy?" your voice is so innocent as you ask.

He groans gently, cupping your cheek. "No, little dove. That isn't a part of this." he replies, against your lips.

His hand drifts from your cheek to between your breasts before finally situating over your stomach.

He swallows thickly, feeling how hard your womb is beneath his hand.

"Please? If it's a one off, you should get pleasure, too." you suggest coyly, thrusting your breasts closer to his face.

His gummy smile appears then, almost breaking your fragile heart. "I'm already getting pleasure from seeing you beneath me."

His thumb drifts slowly over the almost invisible bump on your stomach.

You begin to pout, tugging roughly on the restraints that hold you bound.

"Yoongi, please?" you whisper, eyebrows furrowing as you beg.

He sighs gently, his bottom lip purchasing between his teeth as he thinks.

He really shouldn't. This isn't right.

"You're pregnant," his excuse is sounding weaker and weaker every time he says it.

"So? Doesn't mean I can't suck your dick, Daddy. Wouldn't you like to feel my breasts in your hands while I suck you off?" 

He groans gently at your questions, you can see his cock throbbing at your words.

"Little dove," he says breathlessly.

"I'll swallow for you, Daddy. Let you cum in my mouth." you whisper, laying back on the bed.

His eyes roll back at the prospect of it all.

"Maybe when my tits get bigger and filled with milk, you can suckle on them." 

"Jesus, when the fuck did your mouth get so filthy?" he wants to sound appalled but it comes out amused and turned on, as it should.

"Guess you'll have to clean it out. Let me suck your cock." you reply with a smirk.

"Oh fuck." he grumbles, unbuttoning his pants.

"This is a one off!" he reminds you gruffly, tugging down his pants and brief.

Untying your hands, he sighs gently to himself. He's going to give you whatever the fuck you want from now on, isn't he? What the fuck is wrong with him?

As you wait patiently for him to finish untying you, you stare at his cock as it rests against his stomach.

Even on the first night you were together, it's still a beautiful sight.

"This is supposed to be training." he mutters to himself.

You giggle to yourself as your wrists become free.

With over zealous confidence, you press your hands to his chest. Shoving him down, he laughs loudly.

"Watch yourself, little dove!" he chides, holding your hips steady as you straddle him.

You wrinkle your nose playfully at him and he can only smirk.

Man, you're infectious.

It feels good. Like, tingles inside of oneself and giddiness in spades.

Gripping both hands onto his shirt, you raise your eyebrows.

"This shirt was made in Italy." he warns you.

With a careless shrug you rip it open, hearing the buttons pop and scatter along the marble floor.

He shakes his head with a chuckle as you stare down at his toned body.

God, he's so fucking hot.

Your eyes drift over the planes of his abs and they get softer as you look at the small circular burn marks from cigarettes.

"Wait," he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut.

You keep your eyes on his face as you bend down. 

"I don't normally let people touch my-- oh, God," he cries out as your lips drift over his skin.

Your lips feel healing against his skin. His hands grip at your sides rougher as you take your time worshipping his stomach.

His breathing is ragged and his palms are becoming sweaty.

"You're very handsome," you say, kissing over the biggest burn.

His body shivers and undulates under your touch.

He's never felt such odd comfort before.

"O-Okay. Little dove, e-enough," he practically begs.

Maybe he needs training too. Training on how to be loved.

You take pity on him, leaving his burn marks alone for now. 

He sighs gratefully, bringing his hand to his face to wipe away tears he didn't know had even arrived.

"You're so sweet, little dove." he mumbles, carding his fingers through your hair.

You smile up at him kindly, the act making his heart beat quicker inside of his chest.

Focusing back on the task at hand, you run your lips over his long length earning a hiss through clenched teeth from the father of your child below you.

"Fuck," he curses, pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

Wrapping your hand around his length, you watch precum begin to pearl incessantly at the seam of his mushroom head.

You look up at him for confirmation and he smirks at your subservience. 

"Very good, little dove. You may." he says, gripping your hair tighter with anticipation.

Swirling your tongue around the head, you take immense pleasure in the way he groans. The groan is long and stunted and you know you're pleasing him already.

"That's it, baby." 

The pet name slips so freely and he doesn't take it back as you bow your head down farther.

"Fuuuck, keep going." he instructs.

Licking his tongue over his lips, he curses gently beneath his breath as you begin a rhythm.

Stroking whatever doesn't fit in your mouth, you can hear words of praise leaving his lips like a prayer.

Your arousal has started to drip down your thighs at this point and Yoongi stares for the longest time, dying to be inside of you.

"Take it all. Like you did the night we made our baby," he commands.

With a gentle moan, you swallow around him. Gagging and sputtering on his cock, your vision becomes blurry with tears.

"Fuck, you're so good at sucking my cock. Jesus Christ!" he moans loudly, his eyes rolling back as you hollow your cheeks around him.

His free hand comes up to palm your swollen breast, being as gentle as he can in the throes of his pleasure.

"You're all mine, huh? I can just take you up here whenever the fuck I want, can't I?" he asks through gritted teeth.

His mouth is getting looser as his pleasure takes over.

You moan in agreement, getting sloppier on his cock. Precum and spittle stream down your chin as you continue to please him.

"You're such a bad girl, little dove. You're too good at sucking my cock, gonna make me want you over and over again."

That's the plan.

With a gentle whine, you let him into the recesses of your throat. His head falls back to the bed, his hips gyrating and thrusting on their own.

"Little pregnant slut, begging to be full of me when she's got my kid inside her. That what you want? You want to be my pregnant slut?" 

You moan loudly against his cock as he begins to precum once more.

Tugging his hand off of your breast, you pull it to your parted thighs.

He curses loudly, feeling how much of your arousal is soaking his fingers. He begins to rub quick circles on your swollen clit, feeling it throb beneath the pads of his fingers.

"You're gonna kill me." he threatens through gritted teeth.

Rocking your hips in time with his fingers, you practically lose yourself when his cock begins to throb for release in your throat.

"Squeeze my thigh when you're about to cum." he warns you and you moan in reply.

Everything about this is so perfect and so yours.

You forget everything going on besides just the two of you in this bed.

It's like it's meant to be.

"Messy little thing," he praises, letting your hair go to wipe your chin.

Sitting up on one elbow, he watches you in your entranced pleasure.

He can feel himself coming to an end but he edges himself, pushing away his orgasm until you do.

With a loud whine, you squeeze his thigh harshly begging to cum for him.

"Uh uh. You wait until Daddy says you can cum." 

You mewl sadly around his cock, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Countdown from ten and then cum." he instructs.

Doing as told you count slowly, breathing shallowly through your nose as he continues to fuck up into your mouth. 

Reaching ten, you squeeze his thigh again.

"Good girl. Cum." 

On his command you cum around his cock. Moaning and undulating as you see stars.

He curses loudly, feeling the vibrations in your throat around his pulsing cock.

"Swallow." he groans out, falling back onto the bed as his thrusts become sloppy.

With a few more thrusts, streams of his cum meet the back of your throat.

You swallow diligently, adoring the taste of him with a whine.

He groans breathlessly, his eyes fluttering shut as he becomes boneless on the bed.

"What the fuck did you do that for?!" he asks, putting his hand over his heart. 

Swallowing all of him, you let your mouth hang open. He grips at your chin, pulling your face down to his eye level.

"Good," he replies in a whisper.

He sighs loudly, running his hands through his hair.

What just fucking happened? 

How did that just turn into some of the best foreplay he's ever had?!

"That was a one off?" you quip, sitting back against the headboard.

He rolls his eyes, sitting up at the end of the bed.

"That was a one off?" he retorts with a whiny voice, grabbing his briefs.

Your mouth falls open as he stands up off the bed.

"You're mocking me!?" you gasp loudly.

"Shut up." he mumbles with a chuckle, bending down to kiss you softly.

His eyes widen at how normal that is before he's pulling away quickly. 

"This was a bad idea!" he says quickly, grabbing his pants. 

You watch how nervous he is and it makes you sad. He doesn't even know what normal is.

"Was it a bad idea? Or are you just scared?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

He picks up his shirt, looking at the broken buttons.

"This shirt was from Italy! I had it hand stitched by a ninety eight year old woman living in Florence!" he yells, shaking the shirt in the air.

"Well buy a new one, you love buying stuff." you suggest.

"She could be dead before I get my next order in!" he replies, shaking his fist quicker.

"Are you ignoring my question because you're embarrassed?" you ask, tilting your head.

He grunts angrily, busying himself with untying the knots.

"Miss Therapist, keep your questions to yourself!" he cries out, giving up on the knot untying.

He paces back and forth, his hands in his hair.

"You could kiss me again, that might be an idea." you suggest.

He grits his teeth, his mind running a mile a minute.

This was just a bad idea all together. He should have NEVER given in! He should have just ignored it like he always does. He's still falling, maybe even faster now.

Fuck!

You can see his eyes flickering back and forth nervously.

"Okay!" you cry out, clapping your hands.

Jumping off of the bed, you step into his path. He stares into your eyes as you look up at him.

Grabbing your wrist, he struggles against you slightly. You tuts your tongue, placing his hand on your stomach.

He looks up at the ceiling, pieces of black hair falling into his eyes. 

"It's not wrong that we did what we did. If anything it was nice. Don't let your guilt eat at you," you tell him.

He sighs loudly. 

"I just don't… know how to feel. You know how I get by now…" he replies softly.

"I do know. And, that's why I'm telling you it's okay," you promise.

He closes his eyes for a mere second. Looking back down at you, his eyes open.

His gaze fixes to his hand on your stomach. Then to your swollen breasts which are now covered in small marks made by him.

"We're being truthful with one another still?" he asks.

"Always," you reply earnestly.

He takes a moment, pulling you over to the bed.

"This just feels right, it feels too good… I've never felt this or had this before. And, when I thought I was getting it, well… look at that catastrophe." his voice falls flat, looking down at the marble floor.

"You still have to learn what happiness is, Yoongi. You don't have to be afraid to feel something new. And, if you do then you can tell me all about it. I'm just across the hall." you whisper, nudging your shoulder against his.

Warmth is the first thing he feels after he hears your words.

"This wasn't a one off, was it?" he mutters, earning a laugh from you.

"Doesn't have to be." you reply as he puts his shirt on.

"What if I get the urge to kiss you?" he sounds shy as he asks you.

"Then just do it. You have my permission," you say simply.

He smiles to himself gently, his eyes drifting over your naked body.

"Well, that sounds okay then." he says softly. 

With a hum, you kiss his cheek.

"What if I want to kiss all the time?" he asks, pulling your clothes away from your hands.

"Well, maybe not all the time," you jeer, laying back on the bed.

"But you said I have to learn happiness, and maybe kissing makes me happy." 

You giggle at his sweetness. "I think you're going crazy."

"Me too." he whispers, bowing his head down to kiss you.

As you continue to kiss slowly, your stomach rumbles hungrily.

"Someone's hungry." Yoongi mumbles against your lips.

Smirking against his lips, you feel your clothes return to your lap.

"Can I have my underwear?" you ask, putting your bra on.

"No. They're mine." he replies, helping you put on your pants.

"What, are you making a Y/N pantie collection?" you quip, slipping your arms through the sleeves of your shirt.

Yoongi takes in this moment, feeling how compassionate and fun you are. How absolutely radiating with beauty you are. 

"If you're a good girl, maybe." he jeers back, helping you stand up.

Snorting gently, you roll your eyes.

"Can't believed you ripped my fucking shirt, like a pregnant wild animal." he mumbles, motioning his arm for you to walk first. 

Laughing together, you open the room door.

Standing before you is Maya, a hand on her hip and an eyebrow quipped up to the sky.

"Jesus!" you both yell at the sight of her.

With a small smirk, she simply shrugs.

"Madam. Sir." she says, happiness enrapturing her voice as she takes off down the hall to his office with a feather duster in hand.

Yoongi snorts loudly, tugging his shirt closed. 

If this is what happiness is, he might just be okay with delving into it.

"Let's go get you some food, little dove."

Next Chapter ----->

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