#thought of a dom picking out my outfit for the day and my tail started to wag

[manicpixiepuppygirl]

i love when my dom picks out my clothes for me :(( or picks out my food for me :(( or when they tie my shoes for me :(( or when they do my hair for me :(( love love love doms who are just so domestic :((

[livelaughlovesubs]

I do NOT trust my reading comprehension especially when it's for requests like this buttt.... If you a are taking requests, this is for your anniversary event!! Prompts are: dressing then up in degrading outfits, and showing them off as a trophy to their coworkers. Guess who's character this is for... Drum roll please....! 🥁🥁 Of course it's Scaramouche 😁. Now Imagine him wearing those cat ears and like a tail that's actually a plug and black panties that barely covers anything and a matching bra... Making him wear that in front of the other fatui harbingers at a "party" reader hosted and fucking him in front of them, and instead of moans he's forced to meow instead...

(This might be one of the wildest asks I've sent buttt whatever 🥰)

-scaralover

OMG AKSUAKJAJAA I HAVE LITERALLY NO CLUE HOW TO WROTE THIS LOGICALLY BUT LETS GO

Dom!reader x sub!Scaramouche

Warning: cosplay (?) - degrading outfit, a tiny bit feminisation (cuz of the outfit), exhibition (a little), pet play, a tad manhandling

Anniversary event

All this misfortune that has befallen him, all this shame that was going to come in the near future, for all of this he’s got no one to blame but himself.

After all, it was his choice to be a brat, no?

That’s why he has to live with the consequences of his actions, accepting any punishment no matter how humiliating they’d be. And you had just the right one in mind. You’ve been planning this party for the harbingers for a while now, so why not grasp this opportunity to both put him in his place and to show off? Which is why you told him you’ll have to think it through, and will announce his punishment in a few days.

On the day of the event, you invited yourself into his room, holding a bag in your hand. A sense of horror flashed through him, he knew exactly why you were there, since he remembered what you told him. “…y/n, you can’t seriously be thinking of punishing me today, right? The party’s today as well.” He hesitated, hoping he didn’t just put ideas into your head. But knowing you, he doubts that’s the case, you obviously approached him with ulterior motives.

“How sharp of you~ that’s right, I’ve decided on your punishment.” You handed the bag to him, winking, then explaining, “wear this under your coat, yea?” He frowned at you, then looked down at the fabrics and blushed. Cheeks turning red as he furiously looked up, ready to yell into your face if not for the fact that you were already gone. “Y/n-!! You- fuck!” What was he supposed to do now? Never ever would he wear something like this, to a damn party! With his colleagues present!

Never, that’s what he thought, but disobeying your punishment was also not an option.

Fine, if it’s just under the coat, then… no one had to know, right? It’s a little risky, but it should be doable. So with lingering hesitation, he put on the little outfit you picked out for him. A pair of black lingerie alongside a set of cat ears and tail in the same colour. How lucky he was to have his hat, the tail could just go under the coat and the ears hidden beneath his hat. He put the costume on pretty quickly, and stared at his own reflection. Disgraceful and perverted, that’s how he looked, it reflected your taste.

A few hours later, the chattering of people echoed across the huge halls of the building, signalising the arrival of the guests as well as marking the start of the event— of his misery. Scara saw many people all circle around you, the harbingers separated in smaller groups and scattered around the hall. You were standing on top of the stairs, holding a glass in one hand while smiling brightly. He soon joined the crowd, inching closer to you, getting into the first row. You were just saying some welcoming speeches, greeting all of them and thanking them for their attendance.

What he didn’t expect was for you to invite him to the front once you were done. Most of the guests clapped when you told him to come closer, and he felt pressured to obey, clutching his thick coats with shaking hands. “Thanks for the applause everyone. As all of you know, this is Scaramouche, the Sixth of the harbingers, care to tell them something about yourself?” You grinned, as if you were showing him off to the crowd.

In return he scoffed, saying this was childish and about to get down from the stairs. “Wait a sec,” you said, holding onto his hat in an attempt to keep him from escaping, accidentally knocking it off. He couldn’t even yelp before surprised gasps erupted from the audience, and he didn’t need to guess to know why they all had that reaction. “Y/n! Look what—” before he could throw a punch at you, you wrapped a hand around his waist and pulled him close, stripping his coat from him, revealing the second part of the costume.

“You- shameless bastard! Fucking pervert!” He trashed around in your arms, blushing and shaking while trying his best to peel your arms off. Due to him moving around so much, you dislocated his bra, and you smirked to yourself knowing he out on the cute outfit you picked out for humanity. “Right, I also wanted to let ya’ll meet my new pet. He’s a little feisty and he bites-” someone from the background chuckled and laughed, you also caught a few of your other colleagues rolling their eyes.

“I’m not your fucking pet!” Scara yelled, and he almost immediately regretted it. “Doll, need me to bend you over and fuck you in front of all of them for you to remember your place?” You didn’t mind others hearing your loud whispering, and you were sure some heard. He gulped, and looked…. aroused? God, what the hell- how comes the thought of him getting messed up by you in front of all these people didnt even sound so bad? You gave him a second of cool off, then said, “so scara, the only thing I want to hear coming from your pretty little mouth is ‘meow’.”

He gritted his teeth, eyes widened when he realised just how humiliating that’d be. The puppet’s gaze flicked around the room for a second, taking in the silence and anticipation from the preying eyes. The other harbingers are watching, to do something like that, isn’t that too shameless? “You understood, scara?” After you basically demanded an answer from him, he fought with his own pride to battle what was more important.

In the end, he bit back his curses, glaring at you one last time, slumping forward before muttering an almost inaudible, “m-meow..”

You smirked, “so you can be a good kitten after all?”

[luffles424]

Tips & Teases

☼ Pairing: Seokjin x reader

☼ Genre: fluff, smut, pwp (with some plot), skating carhop!reader, diner cook!Seokjin, coworkers 2 lovers

☼ Count: 13.1K

☼ Warnings: 18+, teasing, dom!Seokjin, brat!reader, some possessiveness, big dick!Seokjin, manhandling, mirror sex (sort of, it’s actually a window, but it’s still a reflection), semi public sex, clothed sex, dirty talk, degradation (lots of use of the word slut), spanking, spitting, assplay, pussy spanking, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, hair pulling, ass worship, ass eating, orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), squirting, choking, unprotected, creampie, aftercare

☼ Summary: Jimin’s annual Halloween costume party presents you the perfect excuse to tease Seokjin, using the party as an excuse to wear flirty costumes to work to try to provoke a response in the man. Are you really prepared for what happens when he snaps?

☼ a/n: This one got a little bit away from me lmao But I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! My ask box is always open ~ 💙💙💙💙

☼ Written for @btsholidaybingo​​​​ to fill the square costume party

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

You glance up at the exclamation, seeing Seokjin leaning against the counter in the pass through, brows furrowed as he takes in your seated form. You hide your smirk by ducking your head to finish tying your skates. It’s not fully the reaction you were hoping for but you’re hoping that’ll change once you stand up and he sees it fully. You thought long and hard on what you were going to wear. You have backups, but you decided to start easy on him. But you were fully prepared to escalate. 

Skates tied, you push yourself up and give a little spin to fully show off your outfit. And to maybe let the already fairly short skirt flair and rise a little higher as you move. You come to a stop facing Seokjin once more, innocent smile tugging your lips as your toe stop presses into the ground to keep you in place. You smooth down the skirt, though the layers of tulle keep it from laying completely flat.  

Seokjin’s eyes drag over your form and you wait with baited breath for his reaction. This was all part of your plan to tease and fluster him. “Again, what the fuck are you wearing?”

You pout. That’s still not what you were expecting, though you think you can just make out the tips of his ears turning red. You put a hand on your hip. “It’s October.”

His head tilts. “Yeah and Halloween isn’t for another two weeks. It doesn’t explain this getup.”

You scoff. “Halloween is all month, first of all. And Jimin’s costume party is coming up and I couldn’t decide on what to wear so I decided to try them out at work first.” You bat your lashes at him, forcing down a smirk. “Does that mean you don’t like it?”

His mouth opens then snaps closed as his cheeks dusted with pink. “There’s no way that Namjoon approved that,” he deflects. Interesting.

You look down at the costume. It’s a fairly generic ‘sexy’ waitress costume. Red with yellow stripes that matches the overall aesthetic of your little drive in diner. The skirt hits above midthigh, puffed out by tulle, so the skirt bounces a little more with each movement along with a small ruffled apron with a pocket that isn’t actually usable. The buttons stop at the right point to give a more than ample display of cleavage. And you’ve paired the whole thing with a set of thigh high socks, leaving only a tantalizing glimpse of your thighs on display. 

You look back up and quirk an eyebrow, smirking. “Joonie was with me when I bought it.”

A ding sounds and you both turn to look at the wall where the board for the all parking spots sits, a light glowing beside the number 12. You swipe one of the order pads and a pen from the counter and move to the door to outside. You give him a wink before nudging the door open with your hip and skating out to the waiting car. 

Seokjin scowls after you and then pulls out his phone, dialing Namjoon’s number. 

Namjoon picks up after a few rings. “Is someone dying or is the building on fire?”

Seokjin frowns, watching as he watches you laugh as you speak with the people in the car. “What?”

“Is someone dying or is the building on fire?”

“I… well no-”

“Then why are you calling me? Jin, it’s my only day off and I know you’re at Omelas right now, so this is clearly a work related call.” Namjoon sighs. He sounds a little tired and Seokjin suddenly worries that he woke him up even though it’s 4 in the afternoon. The manager works far too much for his own good.

“Did you really tell Y/n she could wear a waitress costume to work?”

There’s a pause and then Namjoon chuckles. “Wow she really wore it? Man, her tips are going to be great today.”

Seokjin’s about to respond when he catches sight of you leaning over to speak to another car, back facing him, and the action causes your skirt to rise further up your thighs. He swallows and jerks his gaze away, glaring at the grill and cursing that it’s slow and he has nothing to keep him busy right now. He needs a distraction to keep from just watching you longer. 

Namjoon continues when Seokjin remains silent. “Yes, I said she could wear it. It’s the season and I’m sure it’ll appeal to customers to see them skating in costume and it’ll boost business. Hm, I should probably make up some rules cause I worry what Jimin will wear,” he finishes, seeming to be speaking more to himself. 

“I think it’s dumb.” Seokjin mutters petulantly. Dumb is definitely not how he’d truly describe it. It’s more frustrating, maddening, distracting. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to focus on work when you’re flitting around looking like that. Maybe he can switch future shifts so he doesn’t have to work the same time as you. 

Namjoon snorts. “Noted. Is that all?”

Seokjin mutters a yes and Namjoon hangs up with a warning to call again only if there’s an emergency. His hand drops back to his side in defeat. Namjoon was the only one who could save him and he apparently is more worried about Jimin’s costume than yours. He stares at the grill, he had really hoped that Namjoon would back him up. He’s not ready for this shift. Maybe he can call Taehyung or Yoongi to come cover and he can fake being sick or something.

The door opens and he looks up, deflating slightly when he sees that it’s just Jungkook, who immediately flashes him a sheepish smile.

“You’re late,” he snaps. He knows he’s not really mad at Jungkook. They’re all guilty of being a little late, but he has nowhere else to channel the feelings simmering just under his skin.

Jungkook grins and tosses his bag into the cubby behind the counter along with his boots before moving back around to sit to put his skates on. “I’m not that late. Besides,” he glances out the glass front doors to where a group of guys have sat at one of the picnic tables under the awning. You stand with a hip cocked, giggling at something one of them has said. “Seems like Y/n’s got everything handled right now.”

“Just get to work before I tell Namjoon you were late again.”

Jungkook stands, shit-eating grin firmly in place as he glances out the window pointedly. “Pretty sure you wouldn’t do that.” And before Seokjin can respond, he skates out the door to see who you want him to take.

Seokjin doesn’t know how he’s going to survive this shift. 

The next time that Seokjin works a shift with you, he encounters Jimin first. A very shirtless Jimin who’s back is to him when he enters the building. 

“Jimin, what the fuck?”

Jimin turns and grins, quickly moving around the counter so Seokjin can see the full extent of his costume. Or more accurately, his lack of clothing. Because the only thing on Jimin right now that counts as clothing is the tight pair of black shorts that barely even really cover his thick thighs. The only other things on him are a pair of suspenders, a green tie, and two black x’s that cover his nipples. 

Seokjin blinks. “What the fuck are you even supposed to be?”

Jimin adjusts the thick black glasses on his face with a grin. “Class president,” he states proudly. 

Seokjin scoffs. “What fucking class president looks like that?”

Jimin pouts. “Well I was class president. So me.”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Does Namjoon know you’re wearing this? There’s no way he allowed this.”

 “We compromised.”

Seokjin lifts a brow, looking over Jimin’s “costume” once more. “Where’s the compromise?”

He points proudly to the pasties. “These are. And I have a jacket for when the sun goes down and it gets colder.” He turns and grabs the two drinks he had been working on and moves towards the door. “Isn’t Y/n’s costume idea great?” he adds before exiting the building. He also very much does not like your costume idea. He can already feel his sanity fraying with just the thought of working another shift with you in that little waitress getup. 

“That’s… not a compromise.” Seokjin says weakly as he turns to put his bag away, knowing that even if Jimin did hear it, he wasn’t going to respond. 

However you happen to enter and catch what he said and you giggle. “You don’t want to know about the rest of the compromise, Jinnie.”

He’s about to respond; say that he can certainly imagine what the compromise was because Jimin has never been shy about telling everyone how he managed to talk Namjoon into very not Namjoon situations. His words die in his throat though when he catches sight of you as you begin to get some drinks. Nothing about last time prepared him for this. Because you’re not wearing the waitress costume tonight. Oh no, apparently that would have been too simple. You have a different costume on. 

You have thigh high socks on, though these are thicker than the other ones you had worn. There’s a lot more thigh on display as well thanks to the short, white athletic shorts you’re wearing, paired with a cropped white jersey emblazoned with ‘Tune Squad.’ And finishing off the look is a pair of tan and white bunny ears perched on your head and what he discovers when you turn to grab something and much to his horror, is the matching fluffy tail settled right on top of the swell of your ass. 

When you turn back, he has to quickly jerk his gaze away from staring at your ass longer. There’s a knowing smirk when his eyes finally meet yours, like you knew what putting the tail on would do.

Seokjin clears his throat. “And what are you supposed to be?”

You gasp in mock horror, hands coming up to rest over your heart like he’s physically hurt you. “You can’t be serious!” When he doesn’t say anything else, you shake your head in disappointment. “Space Jam is a classic and you’re a heathen for not recognizing Lola Bunny. Shame on you,” you tut. You gather your drinks on a tray and move towards the door, pausing as your back presses against the glass to cast Seokjin an appraising look. “Suppose I’ll have to look for a Bugs Bunny then, hm?” 

And with a wink, you’re nudging the door open and skating out to a table full of guys and Seokjin bristles at the way some of them blatantly stare at your ass. His mind belatedly catches on your parting words and he wonders what you meant. Was it directed at him? Did you want him to be your Bugs? He doubts that, he can’t recall a moment of you ever expressing interest in him as anything more than a friend. Maybe you were making a joke about how you needed someone else to help your costume be more recognizable. Though Seokjin knew what your costume was when he saw it. He just didn’t know what else to say without saying something incriminating.

A snicker has his head whipping around to see Taehyung standing over the grill, eyes trained on the food in front of him.

“And what do you find so funny?” Seokjin asks, tugging his apron off the hook on the wall to put on. 

“You,” he answers simply, flipping one of the burgers in front of him.

Seokjin makes a face. “I don’t recall making a joke.”

Taehyung looks up at him with a boxy grin. “Oh, no. Your jokes aren’t funny. But the way her ass made you so stupid that you forgot a movie is hilarious. I know for a fact that you’ve seen it at least once because we’ve watched it together.”

Seokjin feels his cheeks heat. Taehyung’s not wrong. He probably would’ve recognized the costume as Lola a lot faster if he hadn’t been almost immediately faced with your ass stretching the fabric and the way the cottontail perched just above it in a way that could only draw you to stare. He scowls, he can’t let Taehyung know he’s right. They all tease him enough as is, this would just be one more thing to add to the pile. He moves over to the younger man and tugs the spatula from his hand.

“Aren’t you supposed to be off work now? Go enjoy your freedom.”

Taehyung only takes a few steps away, perching on the stool they keep behind the counter with a smug look. 

Seokjin sighs. “What?”

He gestures to the food before Seokjin. “That’s my food.”

Seokjin blinks for a moment before groaning. He really played himself here. Now he has no choice but to finish Taehyung’s food.

Seokjin’s positive that he’s prepared for the next time he sees you. He knows to expect something different. And honestly, nothing could be worse than those shorts. Jungkook is there first and Seokjin groans when he sees him. 

“She got to you too?” He whines, looking over the younger man. 

At least his shorts are a more acceptable length than Jimin’s were. And he’s wearing an actual shirt. Really the only thing that signifies that he’s wearing a costume is the pair of bunny ears on his head. Actually, Seokjin’s positive that they’re the ones you were wearing for your Lola Bunny costume. Which confirms that you’re going to be wearing something else. But it’s fine. Seokjin can handle it. 

Jungkook grins and glances out to where a table full of giggling girls sits. “I mean, she had a pretty good idea. The tips have been really good lately.”

“Don’t listen to his grumpy ass, Kookie. You make an adorable bun.” You grin, walking through the door. Seokjin’s eyes trail over your frame immediately, greedy to see what you’re wearing, but all you’ve got on is a thigh length trench coat. “He’s just jealous that no one gets to see his costume.”

Jungkook chuckles as he leaves and it takes Seokjin a moment to realize that he should respond. He frowns. “I’m not wearing a costume.”

Your mouth forms an ‘oh’ of exaggerated surprise, hand coming up to your chest. “You’re not?” 

Your gaze slowly drags over his form and Seokjin suddenly feels a little self conscious that he’s just in sweats and a white shirt. It’s not much, but no one really sees him in here so he just went for comfort today. The way your eyes linger where his apron is tied, accentuating his tiny waist before trailing up to where his biceps stretch his sleeves has the tips of his ears coloring red quickly. He wishes he had longer hair so that you couldn’t see them right now. Then your lips quirk up into a teasing grin.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’ve got the perfect Bob Belcher look going on here, Jinnie.”

Seokjin’s face twists. Bob Belcher? Seriously? That’s how you see him. He scowls, looking over your outfit. “And just what are you supposed to be? A flasher?”

You giggle at his statement, pulling something golden from your bag. A moment later, you’re placing it on your head and he realizes that it’s a short, 4 pointed, gold crown with 4 alternating blue and red gems that sits on a headband so that it stays in place. It looks so familiar but he can’t place why. 

You give him a wry smile. “No, of course not. I had to run to the store so I threw a coat on.”

He rolls his eyes. “Is your costume that-”

He cuts himself off as you slowly slip your jacket off, head tilted as you watch him closely. Now he realizes why the crown looked familiar. Because it’s Princess Peach’s crown. Because apparently you’ve decided to dress like every fantasy he had when he was young once he discovered the Mario games. 

The dress is much shorter than Peach’s is, your’s sits high on your thighs and dips low to show a generous amount of cleavage. You have thigh high white tights one that only accentuate the sliver of thigh that you have on display much the same way your waitress costume did. But this is somehow worse and Seokjin suddenly very much regrets wearing sweatpants today of all days. At least he’s got the apron on.

He turns back to the grill, but the image of you dressed like that will be burned into his brain forever. He might actually die. 

You giggle and he hears the sound of your skates as you move towards the door. “Just have to find a Mario. We’d be so cute together.” And with that you skate out.

Seokjin’s thrilled that it’s finally the day of the party and that it’s finally Halloween. It means he won’t have to deal with you in your costumes anymore. He honestly doesn’t think he can handle anything else after the Peach costume. Or even seeing the Peach costume again. He has no idea what you’ll be wearing tonight and he is torn on which he wants you to wear. 

Yoongi is manning the grill when Seokjin gets there because it’s a Friday so their shifts overlap for the dinner rush before Seokjin will close down for the night. And he saw Hoseok out taking care of a few customers, but he’s unsure if Hoseok was working the earlier shift or if he took Jimin’s shift so the younger man could set up for the party. He hopes it’s the latter, he worries who would come to replace him if he worked the earlier shift. 

He gives him a nod of acknowledgement before focusing again on the grill as Seokjin gets ready for his shift. He had seriously considered skipping the party later since he’s closing and it means he’d get there late. But it’s Jimin’s party and not only would the younger harass him until he came, he also knows it’ll go late into the evening and so his closing shift won’t affect anything. But the late time does mean that he decided to wear his costume to work, well one of them. He has a second one in his car, a stupid idea just in case you happened to wear Peach again. He knows it’s fairly unlikely, but he supposes that the Mario costume sitting on the car seat is at least a little comforting. Maybe an easy way for him to possibly ask you out. Or just embarrass himself. At least it’ll be at a party and he can drink himself silly when he gets rejected. 

But for now, he’s content with his costume. It at least won’t get a snarky comment from you comparing him to Bob Belcher. Because he actually put a little thought into this costume and he’s pretty proud that he managed to pull together such a good Geralt costume. His hair currently being bleach blond also helped give him the idea. The wig for proper accuracy and sword are in his car, they seemed a little impractical to work in, but the rest of the costume was pretty comfortable. The higher waisted pants are different but he thinks they’re pretty flattering and form fitting and the shirt is just billowy enough to give the illusion that he’s a little buffer than he really is. 

The most telling part of the costume is the wolf head medallion hung around his neck. Which he hopes people recognize for what it is and don’t just think he’s wearing some fancy, period style clothes. Plus wearing it now meant that he didn’t have to change either at work while trying to close or show up to the party and change there. And he’s incredibly thankful that Jungkook, nerd that he is, not only had a sword for him to borrow, but actually had a replica specifically of Geralt’s sword. 

Seokjin tugs his apron from the rack, back to the door when he hears it open. He hears Yoongi let out a low whistle. 

“I don’t know who’s attention you’re trying to catch, but consider it caught.” 

Seokjin turns, curious as to who and what Yoongi is talking about and he feels his breath catch in his throat. Because apparently fate is cruel and has decided that you of course would pick up Jimin’s shift and would be the one who closes with him. He licks his lips as his gaze slowly trails over you. 

He doesn’t even know what to take in first. Your black dress is low cut and short, your legs covered in lacy floral tights. But the most distracting part is the glittering body cage that sits over your dress. It cages your breasts in and accentuates them even more than the dress, extended up your chest to form a collar around your throat. Thinner strips cover your shoulders and upper arms, forming a parody of sleeves. The strands curve around your hips, the ends coming together to form a point that just touches the hem of the dress. 

A medallion hangs at your throat, the circular bronze marked with a starburst. You grin at Yoongi as you slip a lace mask on that sits delicately over your eyes. He realizes that you’re dressed as Yennifer. God and not just any outfit, a much skimpier version of the outfit from the orgy scene of all scenes. How is he supposed to survive this shift now?

There’s no way that you knew what he was wearing. This just has to be all a weird coincidence. A very very weird coincidence that has rendered him completely speechless. You glance at him with the ghost of a smile on your lips as you take a seat to swap your ankle boots out for your skates. He gets another brief glance before you’re skating out to join Hoseok outside.

“You’ve got it bad, dude.”

Seokjin jerks at the words, tearing his gaze from your ass to glare at Yoongi. “What are you talking about?”

Yoongi gives him a flat look. “Come on, everyone can see your massive crush on her.” Seokjin shoots a worried glance to where you stand talking to a car and Yoongi gives a chuckle and shake of his head. “Okay, maybe everyone but her. But dude, come on. How long are you going to pine for? Just go for it already.”

“But-”

“There is no but here dude. It wouldn’t make work awkward and it’s very clearly not one-sided. Just ask her.” 

Seokjin huffs. He wants to believe Yoongi, he really does. But he worries that you only flirt with him to see his ears turn red and to tease him. You flirt with the others too and it’s hard to tell if you are just flirty in a friendly way or if you truly want more. And he’d hate to make you uncomfortable at work by making a move on you. He turns and chooses instead to ignore Yoongi for the remainder of their shared shift. It’ll get busy anyway so it’s not like he’ll have to try too hard to avoid any further conversation on the topic of you. Something Seokjin would very much like to keep out of his mind given if he thinks about you for too long, it’s going to go straight to your outfit and he doesn’t really need to pop another boner at work while trying to cook. 

Seokjin gets through almost his entire shift with his sanity intact. There’s 30 minutes until close and there’s only one table here. They seem interested in only getting some drinks, so Seokjin takes the opportunity to slip his apron off and begins cleaning up and getting some of the closing duties out of the way so that he can get out of here sooner and go get very drunk at Jimin’s party and try to pretend that he didn’t nearly see your ass tonight when you bent over in front of him earlier. There was a flash of skin from beneath your skirt and Seokjin had to go spend a few minutes in the freezer. When he came out you looked far too amused.

Seokjin glances out the window, realizing that you haven’t been back inside for a little while and worrying that maybe something happened. But all he sees is you chatting with a table of guys. He’s about to get back to cleaning when one of the guys reaches out to run his fingers down your arm. There’s a coy smile on your face and Seokjin clenches his jaw. He glances at the clock. 5 minutes. 

He debates just kicking them out now. It’s not like Namjoon would fire him for it. He doubts they would even bother complaining beyond making a fuss before they leave. But then your hand comes up to touch his shoulder, just for a moment, and Seokjin’s resolve snaps. He snatches their receipt from the counter where you left it and stalks out of the building. 

You glance up at the sound of the door, smiling a little when you see Seokjin exiting. You and the group of guys startle slightly when he slams his hand onto the table, revealing the bill when he pulls away. 

“We’re closed,” he snarls, grabbing you and directing you back inside. 

You stumble slightly, skates leaving you slightly off balance for the sudden movement but you manage to steady yourself by grabbing Seokjin’s bicep with your free hand and allow him to pull you along inside. He leaves you at the counter as he stomps to the back, muttering something under his breath. You look back outside, seeing the guys exchanging confused looks but they place some money on the table and shuffle off, likely not wanting to see what else Seokjin does when he gets angry. 

You squirm slightly, you’ve never seen him so angry, it’s incredibly hot. Especially with him dressed as Geralt tonight. You wait patiently, watching as the outside lights are shut off and then most of the inside ones as well, casting the kitchen in a faint blue glow from the auxiliary lights that remain on no matter what. 

A moment later Seokjin returns, face set in a harsh look of displeasure. You fight down a grin at pushing him far enough to finally get a reaction. He pauses in front of you, glancing behind you briefly, likely to check that the men have actually left. There’s a soft hum from him that makes your lips twitch up in a small smile and when he catches sight of it, his eyes darken. 

“Something amusing to you, sweetheart?” His cold tone sends a shiver down your spine. 

You blink up at him with faux innocence. “Nothing at all, Jinnie.”

His gaze trails slowly over your face and then he’s reaching and removing the delicate lace mask from your face and tossing it to the counter behind you. 

“I don’t think you’re being honest with me,” he murmurs. He leans forward and your breath catches in your throat, thinking he’s going to kiss you, but he bypasses your mouth, lips brushing your ear as he continues to speak. “I think you did this on purpose and you find it very amusing.”

Your body tingles at his tone, at the way he laces a threat into the seemingly innocuous words. He leans back and you only get a second to admire his smirk before he’s spinning you around and pushing your upper half down against the counter. It takes you a second to get your feet under you with the skates hindering you slightly, but you manage to get yourself stabilized and balanced on your toe stops. 

You plant your hands on the counter to keep stable and glance over your shoulder, only to have your face roughly turned forward once more towards the window. It’s dark out and you know it would be hard to see into the dim windows from the street, but if anyone happens to walk closer, they’d be able to see everything. The thought sends a thrill through you. A hand lands on your ass, cushioned by your dress, but the sudden impact still draws a gasp from your lips. 

“I think,” Jin pauses, fingers trailing lightly across the curve of your ass, “that you have planned all of this with just me in mind, hm?” You don’t know whether he actually wants you to respond or not, but he continues before you can voice anything. “I think someone has been a very bad girl,” the hand on your ass stops and his fingers dig into the flesh harshly. “And that someone needs to be punished,” he finishes with a hiss. 

His hand lands another smack on your ass, a little harder this time, and you feel the slight sting heat your skin. You feel your panties dampen and you squirm as well as you can given the way you have to hold your feet still lest you slip. His hands grope at your cheeks before they slide down enough for him to hook his thumbs under the fabric and he tugs the hem of your dress up and over your ass. 

The hands pause then tighten around the fabric of your dress and you hear him swear under his breath at the sight of your ass clad in black lacy panties, ones that closely resemble your mask, and framed by the lace garter straps of your tights. 

“Fuck… You really did plan this all out…” His hand leaves you again before coming down with a resounding smack, no longer padded by your dress and your thin panties do little to cushion the blow. A moan slips from your lips and Seokjin lets out a dark chuckle. “Oh, are you enjoying your punishment? Well, we’ll just have to fix that, hm?”

He spanks you again, harder this time and you whimper. He hums in approval, hand smoothing over the smarting skin for a moment before he spanks the other cheek just as hard. Your toes curl in your skates at the pleasure-pain that shoots through you. 

Seokjin tsks. “Hm, this just won’t do.” He mutters, seemingly more to himself because you have no idea what he could be thinking until his hand grabs the back of your panties, gathering a fistful of the fabric. It elastic pulls tight across your hips, digging into the skin to the point of discomfort. You whine, trying to push your hips up to relieve the sting but Seokjin just moves with, keeping his grip tight. Then he’s pulling harder, the elastic digging painfully into your skin followed by the sound of seams ripping. A final tug and the fabric tears completely, leaving your ass and pussy bear to Seokjin’s gaze. 

A shudder ripples through you at the display. You can’t believe he just ripped your panties off. You can’t believe how much the action turns you on too. 

A pleased noise rumbles in his chest as the scrap of lace is slipped into his pocket. “That’s much better.”

His hands are back on your ass, no barrier to keep you from feeling the warmth from his palms and the slightly roughened fingertips as they skim across your skin. You push into the touch, greedy for more of the soothing strokes. He chuckles, fingers slipping beneath the garter straps. He tugs them away from your skin before releasing them to let them snap against your skin. 

“Seokjin-” you start, only to be quickly cut off by a sharp smack. 

“Bad girls don’t get to speak unless spoken too, slut.”

You swallow, pussy clenching at his tone. Of all the things you imagined, you never quite imagined something like this. His hand smooths across your skin for a moment before delivering another spank. 

“How many more do you think you deserve, slut?” he muses, hand remaining where it landed with his last smack. 

“I-”

Another smack. “That was rhetorical. I don’t actually take the opinions of sluts.” His hand rubs at your warmed skin for a moment in thought. “I think 20 sounds fair. For all your little stunts with those costumes. For flirting with other guys where I can see. For teasing.” He pauses for a moment and when he speaks again, the harsh edge is gone. “Green means continue, yellow for slow down, and red I stop. Okay?”

It takes you a second to realize what he’s said and then you’re quickly nodding, excitement mounting at what could possibly be to come.

“I need words, princess,” he murmurs, voice softer than it has been since he brought you inside and it makes you melt a little. 

“Yes, I understand.”

“That’s the first time you’ve been good all night, sweetheart.” You can hear the smirk in his voice and it makes you clench at the mean implications that come with such a simple statement. “But now let’s see if you can keep your good girl streak going while you get punished.” Both hands leave you and you want to turn around and look at him, see what he’s doing, but you feel it will only prompt further punishment. “I want you to count. And if you miss one, then we start all over again, got it?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes speaking, trying your best to keep from squirming. “Yes, sir.”

He chuckles. “Such a good girl now,” he coos.

And then his hand is coming down on your ass, softer than his previous smacks and the gentleness makes you gasp. He pauses and waits and you belatedly let a 'one' slip from your lips. He hums in approval and delivers a smack to the other cheek, still just as soft and you murmur a quiet 'two.'

You squirm. You'd expected more harsh hits and the contrast has you aching for him to go a little rougher with you. He smacks again and again. Every slap of his palm against you only adds to the growing pleasurable sting that radiates across the whole surface of your ass.

He stops when he gets to ten, hands rubbing over the warm flesh. "Color?"

"Green, so green," you whine, pushing your ass back into his hands.

He chuckles. "You're so eager for your punishment that I'm starting to think that it might not be a very good punishment." His hand comes down, much harder than any previous spank and you cry out. "Ah, there we go."

Seokjin sounds so indifferent when he speaks, like he's not even bothered by your bare ass and the noises that slip from you with every connection. You wish you could see his face, see if there is any reaction he has. You want to see the indifference as he’s faced with your bare, dripping pussy and spank warmed ass. The next four spanks are just as harsh and tears gather, threatening to fall. It's so pleasurably painful that you can feel yourself dripping down your thighs. He gives you another small reprieve, hands ghosting along your smarting skin as you pant against the counter.

"Hm, there we go, that’s much better. Color?"

You squeeze your eyes closed, taking a moment to try to gather your foggy thoughts. You feel a few tears drip down your cheeks. "G-green."

His fingers dig into your ass then and you whine as you try to squirm away from the sudden flare of pain. Seokjin just chuckles again and digs his fingers in more. He pulls your cheeks apart and you gasp at being suddenly far more exposed. You clench at the burst of cool air across your asshole and pussy, and Seokjin just holds you like that for a long taunting moment. And then he surprises you further by spitting, the glob of spit hitting just above your asshole and beginning to slide down your crack.

You shudder, a moan slipping from your lips as Seokjin halts the spit from sliding too far by pressing his thumb to your hole. You feel yourself go boneless at the pressure. He hums in delight at the way you relax at only a little prodding.

"Oh? Do you like something in your ass too? My, what a naughty girl," he teases, mocking edge making you whine and press further against his thumb.

His thumb circles, pressing lightly against the tight ring of muscle, slowly spreading his saliva around. He plays with your hole, massaging it for a few moments before he's pulling away. He spanks you again and you tense up at the sudden flip from soft rubbing back to the harsh slaps.

"Didn't think I forgot about the rest of your punishment, did you?"

You quickly shake your head. You actually had forgotten that he said twenty and that you still have five left. But you can't let him know how distracted you had been by him playing with your ass. That you forgot you were being punished. That didn’t seem like it would go over well with him. Tears gather in your eyes as his hand lands again, breath punched from you as the pain builds with each swat of his hand.

Your throat feels rough when you finally croak out, 'twenty.'

His hands completely leave you and you tremble against the counter, struggling to keep yourself upright with your legs nearly boneless. You feel warm and floaty all over. 

"Fuck, you look so good like that." You preen at the praise but he’s quick to laugh. And the mocking, mean edge of it has you whining. "You're absolutely dripping. Did you even learn anything from your punishment? Or did you just enjoy it?"

You jolt when his fingers brush against your tender ass before they trail down to your pussy, running the length of your slit and gathering some of your wetness on his fingertips. His fingers leave you once more and a second later you hear him suck his fingers clean.

He groans. "Fuck, I wasn't planning on doing this as part of your punishment but you taste far too good to not give myself a little treat. It is Halloween after all." You can hear the growing smirk when he continues. "Oh, I have a much better idea now anyway."

His fingers trace your pussy lips and you shift, mindlessly trying to get them where you want them. They pull away and Seokjin delivers a quick smack to your pussy, jolting your body at the sudden burst of pain across your sensitive cunt and forcing a surprised yelp from your lips.

"Behave."

You pout, though you assume he can't see it. That is until you glance up at the storefront and see your reflections in the window and the predatory way that Seokjin stares at you. His grin is feral when you make eye contact, like he's been waiting for you to finally look up and realize that he can see your face as well. He keeps staring at you as his fingers slip through your folds again before he lets one slide inside you.

You moan at the intrusion, but it's not enough. You want more already, body warmed from the teasing and spanking already. He’s barely touched your pussy and you’re already so desperate for him. You clench around his finger, hips pushing back to try to get him deeper. He removes his hand again to land another smack to your pussy, dangerously close to your clit. You moan.

"Fuck, you're so dirty. You like getting your slutty pussy spanked just as much as your little ass?"

You nod, desperate to get more of something, anything he's willing to give you. Simply hoping that by agreeing will get you something. Seokjin spanks your pussy again, this time directly over your clit and you cry out, legs nearly giving out beneath you as the pleasure-pain sensation alights your nerves. His finger circles your entrance slowly before slipping inside once again.

"Seokjin please..."

He drags his finger out slowly before thrusting it back in just as slowly, letting you feel every inch of the digit. "What is it? Please what? If you're going to beg, you're going to beg like a proper slut and use. Your. Words." He punctuates the last three words a harsh thrust of his finger after each one, leaving it buried once he's done speaking.

"Please... Wan-" Your voice breaks as his finger presses searchingly against your walls, finding your g-spot quickly and rubbing against the bundle. The action robs you of all thought, losing track of what you had been saying.

"Yes?" He questions mockingly, like he's not distracting you and making it hard for you to form a coherent thought. "Please what?"

You groan, head dropping forward to press your forehead against the cool countertop. The slight chill that seeps through your sweaty skin grounds you a bit. Enough to string together some words. "Want... Wanna cum, please let me cum..."

Seokjin presses more firmly against your spot and your whole body trembles at the wave of pleasure that washes through you, pushing you closer to orgasm.

"Oh? Do you think you deserve that?"

You nod quickly, squeaking when Seokjin removes his finger to slap your pussy again, the only reminder you get to speak. "Yes, yes... Was good and counted the whole time."

He hums thoughtfully. "I suppose you did. So you want to cum, slut?"

You squirm as his fingers tease alone your folds. It’s maddeningly light, nowhere near enough to push you over the edge. "Yes, please, wanna cum, Seokjin..."

His answering hum should send up red flags but he slips two fingers into your pussy, rubbing immediately across your g-spot with each thrust of his hand and you sink immediately into the pleasure it sends through you. You writhe and his free hand comes up to press against your back, pinning you more securely to the counter. It just makes you writhe more, push the boundaries and feel him press you just a little harder into the unmoving counter. 

His thumbs slips forward on the next thrust to brush against your clit. Your belly tightens with every thrust and stroke of his fingers, orgasm rapidly approaching.

“You’re tightening around me so much. Is my little slut close?”

Your nod jerkily, hips twitching as you rock against his fingers. “S-so close…”

Seokjin stops with one last harsh thrust, switching instead to rubbing incessantly at your g-spot while his thumb circles your clit. “Then be a good fucking slut and cum,” he growls. 

He grabs your hair, tugging your head up so that you're forced to stare at his reflection once more. The look on his face makes you shudder and your pussy clenches around his fingers. Your mouth drops open at the feral look in his eyes and the way he seems wholly consumed by watching your every twitch and reaction. One more twist of his fingers has you crying out his name, toes curling in your skates as he pushes you over the edge. His hand releases your hair, a look of warning keeps you from letting your head drop, and his hand comes down in another spank against your ass and you jolt at the added sensation as your orgasm floods your body.

His fingers work you through your orgasm, slowing only marginally as you shake beneath him. You whine when overstimulation starts to take over but you make no moves to stop his movements. The extra sensitivity only adds to the pleasure that still licks away at your veins.

"Wow, too much and you're not even gonna stop me? Fuck, you really are a dirty, needy little slut."

You whine again, pushing your hips back onto his fingers, drawing an amused huff from him. He thumbs your clit roughly, causing your knees to nearly give out, before he's removing his fingers entirely and you pout at the sudden empty feeling you're left with. His hand slips back into your hair, tightening and pulling your head further back so your chest lifts slightly from the counter and you gasp as your attention is pulled back to his reflection. He smirks at you for a moment and then he's releasing you once more. You collapse against the counter, struggling slightly to keep your footing. 

You're suddenly very much regretting the fact that you have to wear skates at work because it's proving to be very dangerous. You wish you could stop and take them off, but you’re certain that Seokjin wants them on for the fact that it keeps you nearly immboile against the counter. You can’t deny that for the struggle to remain upright aside, being forced to stay like this because of your footwear is just another layer to the arousal that has yet to leave you. 

Seokjin's body blankets your's for a moment as he leans over to press a kiss to your shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll give you exactly what you need."

You have no time to question him because he's straightening once more and then his reflection disappears entirely as he drops to his knees behind you. Your throat feels dry as you wait for him to touch you again but the seconds stretch and he does nothing. You squirm, imagining what he must be seeing from his new position behind you, your pussy spread and dripping, hole twitching with the last vestiges of your orgasm. The way your thighs quiver as you force yourself to remain upright.

Embarrassment heats you at being stared at but the moment your legs start to close to attempt to hide yourself, Seokjin's hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread for his gaze to consume. He hums in appreciation, thumbs brushing your folds as he pulls your lips apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt. His breath ghosts across the sodden skin and you think that he's going to finally put his mouth on you but he surprises you when he lips brush gently against your ass.

"S-seokjin?"

He ignores you, peppering kisses across both cheeks, tongue slipping out occasionally to lave across areas made more sensitive by his spanking. He releases your pussy, hands sliding further up to cup your ass, massaging the flesh while his lips move across. It's nothing short of worship and you find yourself quickly getting lost in the attention.

By all means, it shouldn't be as hot as it is. He's barely even doing anything. Just kneading the flesh softly as his lips and tongue ghost across your skin. But every touch sends a spark of electricity up your spine. You wish you could see him, how he must look on his knees, the look on his face. Whether his brow is pinched in concentration like it does when he’s working or if it's relaxed as he takes his time with you.

The first pass of his lips over your asshole draws a soft sigh from you and you can feel the smile that tugs at his lips with his next kiss to your cheeks. He takes his time, only putting the lightest of touches to your hole as he showers attention across your ass. Your mind feels foggy, equal parts on edge for his next move and lulled into complacency by his gentle movements. You trust him to give you what you need, even if you don’t know what it is yet. 

His tongue darts out, circling the tightened ring of muscle with more pressure than he's used before and it causes your entire body to shake. He drifts away again and a whimper slips from your lips at the loss. He moves back to your hole quicker this time, each pass and circle of his tongue coming closer together as he goes.

His fingers dig into your ass, drawing a hiss from you at the flare of pain, and he pulls your cheeks apart. He stops there for a moment and you feel your hole clench at the focused attention.

Seokjin chuckles. "Needy little slut," he coos and then he spits directly onto your hole again.

You moan, feeling as it slowly slides down your ass until it meets your pussy and gets lost in the mess of your slick. He blows cool air where he spat and goosebumps break out across your skin. He blows again and then his mouth is closing over your hole, the sudden warmth has you crying out. Seokjin just hums, tongue tracing your hole.

You shift and Seokjin tightens his grip on your ass, keeping you still and you clench at the casual display of power. He keeps the pressure of his tongue light, enough for you to feel it but keeping you aching for more. And god do you ache for more, his teasing keeps the fire in your belly at just a simmer and you want to be consumed. Your previous orgasm is proving to be nowhere near enough as your clit throbs with need. Seokjin continues his slow pace despite your weak attempts to get him to do something.

He pulls away slightly, breath ghosting over you as he speaks. "If you need something slut, you know how to ask."

And then he dives back in, tongue continuing it's tortuously slow path around your hole. You open your mouth to speak, but Seokjin's tongue dips just inside your hole and you groan at the sudden change. He alternates between slow sweeps of his tongue around your rim and wiggling his tongue just a little deeper into you. The stretch isn't enough to hurt, not with how relaxed his previous attention has left you, and you find yourself wishing that there was just the slightest bit more stretch.

Seokjin's words come back to you and you swallow as you try to articulate your needs to him. "S-seokjin... Need more, please..."

He hums but makes no move to do anything about your whining. He's methodical and it's almost worse than the spanking in how torturous it is.

"Please... Fuck, Seokjin, please, please, please..."

Your begging seems to be what he was waiting for because one of his hands slides from your ass to trace along your slit. You moan at the contact, not expecting him to go for your pussy but you let out a happy noise as a pleasurable shiver runs through you. His fingers find your clit and he runs his fingers around it for a brief second before he’s pinching the sensitive bud. 

You cry out, thighs trying to close instinctively, but Seokjin’s body prevents you from moving them closer than an inch. You feel his smirk against your ass as he pinches again. You whimper, the pain sending sparks of pleasure through your body. He switches to circling your clit, soothing the painful throb he created and it lulls you into a false sense of security for when he thrusts his tongue as deep as he can into your ass. 

You choke on a moan as he thrusts his tongue in again, pairing it with another, slightly more gentle, pinch to your clit. You press your face to the counter, struggling to catch your breath amongst the assault of sensations that Seokjin lavishes upon you. But your attempts are nearly useless as he constantly changes what he’s doing, giving you no time to get used to anything and managing to surprise you with every single twist of his fingers and every thrust and curl of his tongue. 

While you struggle to keep yourself upright, you can feel your orgasm steadily building from the constant attention of his mouth and the abuse to your clit. It’s only a matter of time before you cum again. But you know you can’t, not without his okay, although the thoughts that flit through your mind of possible punishments for cumming without permission are incredibly enticing. That can wait for another day. 

“G-gonna… Gonna cum, can I cum? Please, Seokjin… p-please let me cum…” you babble, feeling that knot inside you continuing to tighten and you can only try to stop it for so long. 

He pulls away, teeth nipping at the underside of your ass while his fingers continue to play with your clit. His mouth drifts a little lower and his teeth dig into the meat of your thigh. 

“Please!” you shudder, the added pain pushing you much faster towards your end.

His tongue traces soothingly over where he just bit, but he remains maddeningly silent. You blink away tears, though you’re not sure if they’re from the pain, frustration, or pleasure. 

“Please…” you whimper. 

He shifts to the other cheek, biting down again and you’re so close to cumming now. His tongue soothes the spot once more and you feel your body tensing with the first inklings of orgasm.  

But just as you reach the edge, nearly toppling over into the pleasure, Seokjin is pulling his hands and mouth away from your body, stopping your orgasm in its tracks. 

You let out a sob, a pitiful, whiny ‘no’ slipping from your lips as a few tears slide down your cheeks as your orgasm slowly slips through your fingers. 

“I don’t recall saying you could cum.” His hand comes down on your ass, right on top of where he bit. 

“I a-asked… Please, I was good.”

“You asked, but I didn’t say yes, slut.” His hand swats at your pussy next and you nearly cum from the action with how on edge you are. 

Seokjin seems to notice if his dark snicker is anything to go by. “Oh? You liked that? Seems you liked it a lot, you made such a mess of my fingers.” He slaps your pussy again and it jolts you closer to orgasm again. “Think you could cum just from me spanking your slutty little pussy? Fuck, I want to try. Do you want that, dirty girl?”

You nod without thinking. You’d do just about anything if it means you get to cum. And the sting only makes the pleasure feel all the better. “Please…”

You hear him shuffle for a moment, the sound of fabric rustling, before he’s nipping at your ass again, leaving teasing stings until his tongue can swirl around your asshole once more. His hand slaps your pussy the same time that his tongue slips back into your tight hole. You gasp and he starts alternating thrusts of his tongue with smacks to your clit.

Your body feels wound tight, every sensation that Seokjin showers on you sending you so much closer to the edge. It feels like you and Seokjin have been doing this for years with how well he seems to be able to read your body. You cry out as Seokjin pinches your clit once more, thighs quivering with the effort it takes to keep you standing.

Seokjin's tongue slips from your hole, but he remains close, lips brushing the sensitive furl as he speaks. "Come on, slut. We both know you can cum from this. Be good and let go for me."

His tongue circles your hole slowly and then it's slipping back in and he picks up a fast pace of fucking you with his tongue, interspersed with slaps and pinches to your clit, seemingly using no method and keeping you on your toes in guessing what will come next. Your high crests from the mixture of pleasure and pain and you cum with a sob, pussy clenching around nothing. Seokjin's fingers press to your clit as the first ripples of your orgasm rush through you and he skillfully draws your orgasm out for as long as possible. Your body feels electrified, pushed into overstimulation but your breath has been completely robbed from you with how good everything feels too, at the way Seokjin so easily manipulates your body to his every whim.

Slowly, he pulls his mouth and fingers from you, sitting back on his heels. You pant against the counter, hot air blowing back into your sweaty face but you're too exhausted to care. You kind of just want to slide off the counter and lay down on the floor, even though it's the kitchen floor and is probably gross. Seokjin pats your ass and it somehow feels condescending and you feel your pussy give a weak twitch.

"Enjoying yourself, slut?" All you can muster is a pitiful whine, which draws a snicker from him. "I certainly hope you are, because we're far from over."

You whine again. You honestly don't know if you could take more. Your body has never been so worked over without actually being fucked too. You don't even know what else he could do short of fucking you finally. Which had been the goal of this whole game to begin with, but he's far surpassed your expectations. Maybe you should push his buttons more often if it results in being so utterly ruined. You definitely know that no one else will ever be able to make you feel as good as he has. Seokjin's hands rub soothingly at your thighs and the action is so grounding that you feel a little dizzy.

"Color, sweetheart?" His voice is soft and gentle, so different from the mean tone that's been coloring it until now.

It takes you a moment to be able to speak, but you manage to get out a raspy 'green.'

"Need any water or a break?"

You think about it for a moment. You could take a break. Maybe take your skates off. But you really don't want to either. There's something about not being able to move that makes it even better, makes you feel powerless even though Seokjin has plainly handed you all the power here. You just want more. 

You shake your head. "I'm good."

His hands massage at your thighs for a few more moments before his fingers dig harshly into the newly relaxed muscle. You gasp and he gives a chuckle. "What a good little slut you're being now."

"Yes... 'm good."

Seokjin chuckles darkly. "That remains to be seen. You haven't even gotten my cock yet and you can barely even speak properly anymore. Not so cocky now, huh?"

He gives your ass a quick swat, it's far more teasing than meant to cause you any pain. His hands slide up your thighs until they just meet your ass and then his thumbs are pulling your soaking folds apart with a groan. Mirroring his earlier actions, he blows cool air across your pussy and you shudder at the way it feels against your heated cunt. His tongue lightly traces your folds and he lets out a contented noise like he’s tasting the most exquisite dish he’s ever eaten. 

Then he’s licking a wide stripe up your slit and you cry out, pussy so sensitive after two orgasms already. Seokjin eats you out like a starving man, tongue working over every inch of your pussy, mapping every spot that makes you twitch and moan. You writhe, or at least you try your best with Seokjin’s hands holding your ass and keeping your lower half mostly immobile. 

Seokjin pulls back with a smack of his lips. “For such a little devil, you certainly taste like heaven.” He snickers before diving back in. 

His plump lips wrap around your clit, tongue flicking lightly at the nub before he sucks. Fire simmers in your veins and you’re surprised at how quickly your orgasm builds again when he’s barely done anything just yet. He suckles lightly, pleasure surging through you. Releasing your clit with a pop, his tongue drags agonizingly slowly up to circle your entrance. He’s methodical, tracing around your hole with just the right amount of pressure before dipping back down to mouth at your clit and then back again. 

You feel yourself dripping, Seokjin noisily lapping up all that you have to give him. Seokjin’s fingers massage up to your ass, digging in and sending a spark of pleasure through you from the sting his grip brings. A hand abandons your ass, finger joining his mouth on your cunt. They work in tandem, fingers toying with your clit while he licks into your pussy. Then they switch, two fingers slipping deep inside you as his lips wrap around you clit once more. 

Time slips away from you, your mind hazy and body on edge as Seokjin plays with your pussy to his heart’s content. His tongue presses at your hole with a little more force and then his teeth graze the sensitive skin and you moan. You feel his smile when he presses his lips against you next and then his tongue is sliding into you. You moan as his fingers pinch at your clit at the same time. 

Heat pools in your belly as he starts fucking his tongue into you and you babble as you feel your orgasm rising as his fingers circle your clit, begging to cum again. He gives you a gentle pat on the ass with his free hand which you assume is meant to be his form of permission since he seems to not want to remove his mouth from your cunt. His fingers move faster and you teeter on the edge. You’re so close. So close that it’s driving you delirious with pleasure. But you just can’t quite get there, missing something that you can’t even fathom let alone ask for. 

Seokjin, ever perspective, seems to know exactly what you need as he slips a finger in with his tongue, pressing down on your g-spot and making you cry out. The insistent pressure combined with the fingers on your clit and tongue still thrusting into sends you over the edge. Bliss floods your body and you feel yourself gush around Seokjin’s tongue and fingers. He drinks up what he can before he’s pulling his mouth away with a curse. 

“Fuck, what a messy fucking slut. You made such a mess squirting, you little whore. I just cleaned these floors. I should make you lick them clean.” You clench around his fingers at his words and he lets out a dark chuckle. “Fuck you like that? Of course you would, you wouldn’t be my dirty little slut otherwise.”

His fingers continue their ministrations and you whine that it’s too much. Seokjin pays you no mind, slipping another finger into you. 

“Come on, slut. I know you can cum again.”

You shake your head. “C-can’t… not… No more…” You squirm, trying your best to get away from the relentless pressure against your clit and g-spot. 

His fingers slow for a moment. “Color?”

You swallow. It hurts, but not necessarily in a bad way. It doesn’t feel like it’d be too much to go on. You’ve never been pushed so far and there’s a thrill that runs through you when you think about discovering what exactly your body can take, even more excited that Seokjin is the one to test the bounds and that he makes sure to check in, to remind you that the safe words are there if it’s too much. You trust him to listen if you need to slow down. But you don’t want to, not right now.

You can feel your wetness literally dripping down your thighs and seeping into your tights makes you feel warm all over, overcome with a need to see how soaked they could get. “G-green, please…”

Seokjin hums, fingers picking their pace back up. “There’s my good little slut. Come on, cum for me like a good little whore.”

His mouth latches onto you again and you shudder, body still worked up from your squirting orgasm that it takes so little effort for Seokjin to push you over the edge again. Your mouth drops open on a soundless scream, pussy convulsing as you gush around his fingers, wetness dripping down his hand and to the floor. You whimper and Seokjin carefully slips his fingers from you. He laps gently at your folds, just enough to send tingles of pleasure up your spin.

He pulls away with a groan. “I could eat you out all night.”

You’re torn between imagining the idea and fearing for your poor pussy if he were to actually do that. He stands and you lift your head enough to look at his reflection when it comes back into view. Your breath catches in your throat when your gaze is met with his bare chest. You have no idea when he had stripped his shirt off and you mourn the fact that you didn’t get to see and appreciate the sight more. He shifts slightly and his chin and chest glistens and you feel your body heat with embarrassment when you realize that you were the cause of that. He meets your gaze and winks.

“Think you’re ready for my cock, slut?”

You whine. You honestly don’t know how much more you can handle, but at the same time, you absolutely have to have him inside you. “Please, Seokjin, please… want it.”

His hands give your ass a quick squeeze before they’re leaving you and you can see him focusing on his pants. You curse your current position and the fact that it keeps you from being able to see his cock in all its glory. You know it’s got to be beautiful. It’d be criminal if it wasn’t. 

He smacks your ass with his cock, leaving a smear of precum across the skin. God, how long has he been hard for? How did he hold out for this long? You squirm and he chuckles. 

“Beg a little more, slut.”

You wiggle your ass, pouting. “Please, Seokjinnie… Please, I want it. Want your cock, wanted it for so long… Please I-”

Seokjin cuts your begging off as he roughly thrusts into you. You cry out, hands scrambling for purchase against the counter as his cock stretches you out all at once. He’s huge, so much bigger than you ever dared imagine. Long and girthy and so perfect to fill every inch of your pussy. You’re honestly not sure how he fits, you feel full to bursting with him buried to the hilt in your cunt. You wished you’d gotten to take your time with it, had him stuff it down your throat. The thought makes saliva pool in your mouth. You’re definitely going to repay the favor and worship his cock when you get the chance.

He swears. “Fuck… your cunt…”

His fingers dig into your hips as he holds himself still for a moment. Then he’s pulling out until just the tip remains before slamming back it, jolting you forward against the counter. Seokjin starts a fast pace, immediately overwhelming you and giving you almost no time to adjust to him. 

His grip tightens on your hips, enough to feel like it’ll be a bruise by morning. “Think you can cum again for me, slut? Cum on my cock for me, baby?”

You whine and shake your head. “N-no… please, can’t…”

Seokjin slams into you, draping himself over you and letting a hand snake around your throat. He waits, giving you a chance to say no to this and when he receives no denial, he squeezes lightly. You gasp and he squeezes a little tighter. You feel lightheaded and if it wasn’t for Seokjin’s body pinning you to the counter, you’d probably slide to the floor. Keeping his grip on your throat, he grinds into you, savoring the way your pussy clenches around him.

He loosens his hold slightly and meets your gaze in the window. “You’re going to cum for me again. And your pretty little cunt is gonna milk every drop of cum I have to give you. How does that sound, baby? Want me to fill your slutty little cunt up?”

As much as you don’t want to, you honestly have no idea if your body is even capable of having another orgasm, you want to find out. And the thought of Seokjin fucking you full on top of it has you nodding to his words almost instantly. “Yes, please… Seokjin, please, fill me up…”

His hand tightens again and he gives you a pleased smirk. “You’re so well behaved now. Hard to believe how much of a naughty little brat you’ve been lately.” 

He switches from grinding to thrusting again, though his position over you means that his thrusts are shorter but no less rough. His other hand slides around to your front, fingers brushing your clit. You clench around him and receive a low moan from him as his grip on your throat loosens again. His fingers circle your clit and you can feel your orgasm quickly creeping up on you. You briefly wonder if it’s possible to die from too many orgasms. But then Seokjin nips at your neck, drawing your focus back to the way his cock drags along your walls and the filth he’s murmuring into your skin as his fingers work faster. 

It washes over you and you cum with a cry of his name, pussy convulsing around his cock. You feel his breath puff against your skin as his forehead presses to your shoulder. His hand falls away from your clit, planting itself once more on your hip as his thrusts pick up speed now that he’s chasing his own end. 

Seokjin’s hips stutter to a stop as he cums with a groan pressed to your skin. His cock twitches inside you as he empties himself in your pussy, filling you up. You sink against the counter, praactically purring in contentment at the flood of warmth that he releases within you. He pants against your skin for a long moment and you let your exhaustion slowly wash over you. You’d give anything for a bed right now and to never have to move again. 

Seokjin pushes himself up and then slowly slips out of you. You whine at the loss and you get a soft chuckle. His hands rub soothingly at your back before they come to rest on your waist. He gives you a squeeze.

“I’m gonna help you stand and get you sitting on the counter, okay?”

You groan. “Don’t wanna…”

Seokjin huffs a soft laugh. “I don’t care. I need to make sure you’re okay and we need to get your skates off.”

He starts moving you, though you know you aren’t much help with how jelly-like your limbs feel. He finally gets you seated on the counter and it takes all your remaining strength to stay sitting upright. You blink hazy eyes at Seokjin; he’s tucked himself back into his pants but they still remain undone, giving you the faintest glimpse of his cock. You pout, you’d wanted to see it. 

His hands cup your cheeks, directing your gaze to his eyes and you blink slowly at him. He gives you a soft smile. “There you are.” His thumbs stroke gently across your cheeks, wiping away the last bits of your tears. “Can you stay sitting up for me? I’m going to get you some water, okay?”

You nod, frowning when his hands leave your face. You want him to keep touching. He turns, grabbing a cup and quickly filling it with water. He hands it to you, helping you when it almost slips through your lax grip. He makes you drink half before he lets you set the cup down. He leans down and makes quick work of your skates, tugging them from your feet. You sigh in relief, feet flexing at finally being free from their confinements and a surprised noise leaves your lips when you feel his thumbs dig into the soles of your feet. He rubs each foot and you nearly fall asleep from the relaxation that slowly spreads through your system.  

Seokjin stands, his hands coming back up to cup your face. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you croak out, lips pursing at how wrecked your voice comes out.

You can see Seokjin fight down a prideful grin as his thumbs stroke your cheeks. It’s silent for a few moments before he’s gasping and you give him a questioning look. He tuts, though you don’t know if it’s directed at you or himself.

“All that and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”

You giggle, he does all that and is worried about the fact that he didn’t kiss you at all. He tilts your head up, soft smile pulling at the corner of his lips. You blink at him for a moment, not expecting him to follow through with fixing that. But when he leans in, you let your eyes slip shut. The kiss is sweet and chaste, the complete opposite of everything that just happened. It lasts for just a moment and you ache to have more of the feel of his plush lips pressed against yours. 

He grins as he pulls away and then busies himself with finding your shoes and your bag, helping you into them. He presses a kiss to your forehead and presses the water back into your grip with the instruction to finish it. He slips his shirt back on, tucking it back into his pants and then he’s darting out the door. Which confuses and alarms you for a split second before you realize that he’s grabbing that money that then men had left on the table. 

He’s quick to cash the ticket out, slipping the hefty tip they left you into your purse before taking the drawer back to the office. He’s gone for a few minutes and you sip slowly at the water while you wait. Now that you’re alone, you wonder what all of that meant. If it was just a culmination of sexual tension and frustration or if there was something more there. Hoseok and Jimin have regularly pushed you to tell Seokjin how you feel. But you’ve always kept that hidden, not wanting to make work suddenly weird when this job and your coworkers are the best you’ve ever had.

And the costumes hadn’t gotten Seokjin to ask you out or offer to be the other half of the pair costumes despite the hints you tried dropping. Maybe he just wasn’t interested in that and just wanted a quick fuck. But some of his actions disprove that. Maybe he was just as nervous as you to ask. 

He reappears, pressing another kiss to your forehead as he takes the empty glass from you and sets it aside. 

“Think you can stand now?”

You shake your legs out experimentally. You certainly seem to have a little more control over them. “I can try.”

That draws an amused snort from him and he helps you down from the counter, hands not leaving you until he’s sure that you’re safe to stand on your own. You adjust your dress, pulling it back down and wincing slightly as the slightly rough material drags over your ass. Your bare ass. You glance around the floor. 

“Hey, where are my underwear?”

Seokjin’s back is to you as he wipes down the part of the counter you were just sitting on. “Oh, they’re completely ruined.” He glances at you over his shoulder with a smirk. “And mine now.”

You squirm, feeling some of his cum drip from your abused cunt. Well at least you’re just going home. You can make it that far. Not that they would’ve been much use to you ripped anyway. Maybe you should make him buy you a new pair. That request might come after the feelings talk though. 

Once he’s done, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his chest and pressing a kiss to your hair. “Ready to go?”

You hum and nod. You are seriously ready to sleep for a day. You’re glad that you don’t work tomorrow. You don’t think Seokjin does either. Maybe you can entice him to stay the night and you could cook him breakfast before the two of you talk. 

Seokjin leads you out of the building, locking the door as you go, and guides you towards his car. Your’s is at home, though you’re not sure if Seokjin already knew that or is just directing you towards his car because he doesn’t trust you to drive right now. To be fair, you don’t think you could actually drive if you had to. You’re glad that you’d been planning to drink at the party and so you were just going to either catch a ride, stay at Jimin’s, or get an Uber so that your car isn’t left in the lot overnight. 

Once settled, he starts the car and pulls out of the lot. You frown watching him turn. 

“Seokjin, I live the other way.”

“I know.”

“And you live the other way.”

He smirks. “I know.”

You swallow. “Where are we going?”

“Well, it’s a shame for you to get all dressed up for a party and to not even go to show it off.”

“I can’t go to a party like this!” You only briefly caught sight of your full reflection but you know how fucked out you look. He can’t seriously be taking you to the party right now. 

Seokjin’s hand lands on your thigh. “You had no problem going to work like that.”

You whine and squirm, immediately squeezing your legs together when you feel another dribble of cum slip from you. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Seokjin just hums, driving the rest of the short distance to Jimin’s house in silence. You try your best to fix yourself up in the mirror so you don’t look completely ruined. It’s only slightly effective. You wish you had Yennifer’s powers, then you could just magic your way home. Would serve Seokjin right. 

He parks and helps you out of the car before reaching into the back for a wig and a sword. He adjusts both items and you look him over appraisingly. 

“At least you’ve got Geralt’s brutish personality down.” You tease. 

Seokjin takes your hand and presses a kiss to it before using it to lead you to the house. “I’d like to think I’m far more charming than him.”

You giggle. “That remains to be seen.”

The party is in full swing when you enter and it takes the both of you a few moments to find your friends. When you do, they all are quick to take in your appearance and the way Seokjin’s hand is wrapped around yours. Jimin crows victoriously, slapping Taehyung on the back.

“I told you! You owe me!”

You bury your face in Seokjin’s shoulder to hide your embarrassment. You just wanted to go home and cuddle. Seokjin’s lips brush your ear.

“If you promise to stay a while, we can get revenge on him and go fuck in his bed.”

[joonie-beanie]

The Chase

Pairing: Satan x Reader

Word Count: 4,982

Preview: Despite the fact that you're supposed to have the House of Lamentation all to yourself, Satan shows up in your room with an all-too-familiar charm.

He wants a chase, and you're willing to give it to him.

(This is a follow up to my other Satan fic, “Feline Charms”, so please go read that first if you haven’t!)

** Please note that this is a cross-posting **

This chapter is also being posted on 6/25/20 as a part of my “Devil Doms” series on AO3

Satan walks into your room one quiet day—a sparkle in his eyes.

You pause from where you’re sitting on your bed, surprised to see him. Last you’d heard, Diavolo had invited the brothers to the castle for dinner. You hadn’t been included in the invitation (something about discussing sensitive Devildom politics over the meal), but it hadn’t bothered you.

For once, you’d have the entire house to yourself, and that thought was exciting. But…

Here Satan is, standing in your doorway, and looking suspiciously happy.

“Did you…not go with your brothers?” you ask, pushing yourself into a seated position, with your legs crossed under you. You stare at him innocently, head cocked to the side.

“I told them I needed to catch up on homework first,” he says, waving his hand uncaringly. “The first hour or so is just mingling anyway. Dinner doesn’t start until late.”

“Ah,” you respond, but you’re still confused. It’s obvious to you that Satan doesn’t have any real homework to do, considering he’s standing in your doorway all mischievous-like. There’s got to be a reason why he’d stayed behind, and come to visit you in particular…

Sighing, you press to your feet and pose with a hand on your hip—eyebrow raising as you stare at him.

“What can I do for you, Satan?”

At that, he grins. Digging into the pocket of his jeans, Satan carefully tugs out what looks to be a small keychain. He only holds it only by the silken ribbon, and your eyes narrow in on the all too familiar golden charm dangling at the end.

Immediately, your body goes stiff—explicit memories flashing through your head.

Satan chuckles as he notices your obvious shift in demeanor.

This shouldn’t be a complete surprise to you. After all, you and Satan had spoken on the possibility of once again using the charm to make things a bit more…interesting.

It wasn’t like your normal sex wasn’t fun, or fulfilling, but…you and Satan both had admittedly gotten immense pleasure out of your first (albeit accidental) use of the charm, so why not try once again?

“I managed to adjust the spell so you won’t turn fully into a cat, like last time,” Satan speaks, his foot inching forward. His pace is slow as he approaches you, and you feel your breathing pick up—your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

You know that this time, you’re both looking for that bit of resistance you’d shown before—when Satan had been forced to wrestle you into the shower. Except, today, you won’t be running due to a fear of water—you’ll be running to feel the thrill of the chase.

Satan had expressed to you some while ago that he’d admittedly always loved being able to let go and indulge in his Wrath-born tenancies from time to time. And…part of those tendencies typically involved games of cat and mouse.

For as composed as Satan appears to be, he gets twisted pleasure out of stalking his prey—chasing them, letting them work themselves into a frenzy, until finally Satan puts them out of their misery.

…of course, Satan has no intention of killing you.

No, for you, a much more…pleasurable ending awaits.

“Of course, we don’t have to do this right now, if you’re not up for it.”

He lifts his free hand and cups your cheek, dragging you into a soft kiss. That mischievous glint in his eye is gone, replaced with a look of understanding and affection.

You and Satan have only grown closer over the last few weeks, and there’s no way he’ll jeopardize your relationship by forcing you into a scenario when you’re not on board.

A quiet moan builds in your throat, and you raise your hands—cradling his face between your palms. You steal another kiss from him, and your heart begins to race.

You love him so much that sometimes you think you may drown in your affections for him. How can one man make you want to melt, but manage to get you so sexually aroused in the same beat?

Lowering one of your hands from his cheek, you trail your fingers down his chest, and onto his arm. Within moments, your fingers skim against his own. You feel the soft silken fabric holding the charm, and without second thought, reach down to touch the spell-laden metal.

Immediately, your body tingles—and you can sense the magic changing your form. The sensation stops only after a few seconds, and true to his word, this time around you have not turned into a house cat. Instead, you remain human, but with feline characteristics—your ears twitching on your skull, and your tail waving behind you—showing the excitement you’ve been attempting to hide.

“Do I at least get a head start?” you whisper against his lips—smile overtaking you. The Avatar of Wrath chuckles, pressing one final kiss against your mouth.

“10 seconds,” he says.

In a flash, you’ve disappeared—your shoulders brushing together as you dart past him and exit your bedroom. He can hear your footsteps echoing down the hall as you run, and Satan grins to himself. It’s clear you don’t intend to make this easy for him.

As adrenaline begins to flood his veins, his power begins to seep. Horns appear on Satan’s head—his clothes transforming into his demonic outfit, and a green and black tail snakes around his leg.

“3,” he mumbles to himself, turning to face the open door to your room. He rolls his neck side to side—loosening his muscles.

“2.”

Satan takes a deep breath, his ears straining to hear you. You’ve traveled quite far in just a few seconds…perhaps the spell had granted you a tiny boost in speed, as well.

“1.”

Tongue darting out to wet his lips, Satan rushes after you.

You’ve already made it down the staircase and into the dining room by the time Satan is done counting.

While a part of you had admittedly debated slowing your pace so that Satan could find you more easily, that idea had quickly been chucked aside. Satan wants a chase, and, well…to be quite honest, the Avatar of Wrath is a bit scary. At least when he’s like this. (Although you know he would never actually hurt you.)

A wave of power extends throughout the house, and you feel your hair stand on end. Briefly pausing, your cat ears—with heightened senses—swerve around on your head. Somewhere behind you, a stair creaks.

You suck in a sharp breath, gaze quickly darting over your shoulder. How is he already this close??

Hurrying forward, you do your best to tread lightly as you round into the kitchen. You stay low behind the counter tops, a tiny smile tugging at your lips when you suddenly feel foolish for the way your heart is hammering against your ribs. You’re excited, and anxious, and aroused, and—

“Neko-chan~”

The voice is drawn-out—playful—but it still makes your hackles rise.

Suddenly, you’re all too aware of the demon lurking behind you. You don’t even dare look—simply leap forward and out of Satan’s reach. He grins mirthfully as you turn your head to stare at him--shocked. It’s seriously unfair that he can move so silently.

“I found you,” he says, taking a step forward. In response, you take a step back. The doorway to the hall is still a few feet behind you, and Satan is blocking the entrance back into the dining room. Your best bet would be to stun him, and then run further into the house and hide.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see an apple sitting on the counter.

You swipe at it without warning, effectively sending it flying towards Satan’s head. The demon, luckily, is thrown off by the action.

He lifts an arm to save his face from being struck by the fruit, and by the time the apple has bounced off his arm and clattered to the floor, Satan’s eyes only manage to catch the sight of your tail disappearing from the doorframe.

A grin tugs at his lips, his eyes flashing dangerously.

You’re cute when you’re desperate. Too bad your efforts are in vain.

You only make it half way up the hall before a hand wraps around your tail. With a shriek, you tumble off your feet—landing ungracefully on your ass. There’s an amused snort behind you.

“And that’s why I keep my tail close to me.”

You scramble to your hands and knees—knowing that Satan is behind you—but he doesn’t allow you to get away again.

“It’s adorable when the prey doesn’t realize it’s time to give up.”

Satan’s warmth and weight are suddenly on your back. You feel his prominent hard-on against your ass, and pointedly rut back against it—hoping to loosen his hold. However, the action in turn causes him to grip you tighter—his sharp nails digging into one of your breasts through your shirt.

You whimper, but the sound quickly escalates into a pained gasp as Satan’s other hand roots in your hair.  He tugs your head back—his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck as punishment for that last, pathetic escape attempt.

“Satan,” you breathe hotly, your tone pleading. Your ass wiggles against his crotch. Despite the small amount of distress you feel towards your current situation, it is vastly outweighed by the arousal pooling your gut. The Avatar of Wrath catching you and pinning you down like this is a huge turn-on.

“Wasn’t much of a chase, in the end,” he mumbles against your ear, and you blink in shock as the world spins. He easily flips you onto your back, and suddenly you’re staring at his devilishly handsome face—his lips pulled into a wide smile, and his blond hair disheveled.

“You should have just told me if you wanted my cock that badly, Y/N.”

You flush red, hand lifting to press against his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“You prick—I ran with all I had! Maybe if you wanted more of a chase, you should have given me a bigger head s—”

Your words are cut off as his palm presses against your neck—his fingers squeezing tightly around your throat. You’re very much reminded of the first time he’d fucked you--the same ears and tail adorning your body.

“I would watch your mouth, kitty.” You start to go light-headed, and Satan feels you become more pliable beneath him. He drags his knee between your thighs--grinding up against your pelvis, and you whine. “Is that any way for a pet to talk to their master?”

“I-I’m not--,” you attempt to deny his words, but you’re aware that this is a battle you won’t win. You’d said once before that you were the “Avatar of Wrath’s personal little pet”, and he’s taking that very seriously. Especially now that you’re pinned beneath him--cute, fuzzy ears flattened against your hair. 

Satan leans in so your faces are mere centimeters apart, and his eyes flick to look at your lips.

“Want to try that again?”

Your body heats up with embarrassment. You will yourself to meet his gaze.

“I’m your pet, Satan.”

He smiles at that, and you feel his grip on your neck loosen as he leans down to kiss you. You moan quietly into the kiss—your arms lifting to wrap around him—but the soft moment is over as soon as it begins. The Avatar of Wrath nips his canines against your bottom lip, drawing a bit of blood, and his fingers tighten against your throat once more.

“And as my pet, I can do whatever I please, yes?”

His knee is still rubbing up against your pussy, and even though the friction is lessened by your clothing, you’re so riled up at the moment that you swear if he keeps going, you’ll cum soon.

You nod weakly.

“Say it.”

“You can use me however you want.”

Your voice is frantic, and breathless. Satan can see the way your face has started to color from lack of blood flow, so he removes his hand from your neck. Instead, he places a finger at the collar of your shirt—his green nail extending into a point on command. The sharp nail catches the fabric of your shirt and tears it clean up the middle.

Because you’d been expecting to have the house to yourself tonight, you aren’t wearing a bra.

As your tits spill into the open air, Satan’s dick throbs. Immediately, his hand descends upon the soft mounds, giving them a rough squeeze. You whimper--your eyes straying to look at the crotch of Satan’s pants, and the pitched tent is quite obvious.

Unconsciously, you lick your lips. Satan notices, his eyes narrowing. He removes his hand from your chest, and instead replaces it with his mouth. As he sucks your tit between his lips—his teeth gently nipping at your hardened nipple—his free hand sneaks beneath the hem of your pants.

His fingers slide between your wet folds, two digits curling into your pussy with little resistance. You writhe beneath him, your hips grinding down against his hand, and he sinks his teeth into your breast as a warning. You’re quick to cease your movements.

“Good girl.”

Satan laps his tongue against your tit—soothing over the indentation of his teeth. Acknowledgement of your good behavior.

You whine, unable to help the miniscule twitching of your body as Satan begins finger fucking you. His pace is frustratingly slow—serving only to rile you up—but you know that if you beg for more, you’ll be punished. Good pets learn to wait, and so shall you.

“Mmm--!” you mewl—your chest arching into Satan’s mouth. He’s taken to biting and sucking against your breasts—leaving you with a pretty pattern of soon-to-be hickies.

“You like it when you have marks, don’t you?” he speaks, voice deep. His emerald eyes flit up to you, and a grin pulls at his lips when he fucks his fingers into you particularly hard—making you gasp.

“That way, whenever you see them, you’ll be reminded of this—,” Satan drags his mouth upward to rest against your throat. His words are hot against your skin as he continues, and you shiver.

“—me, fucking you in the middle of the hallway after a pathetic game of cat and mouse. You’re quite literally the cat out of the two of us, and yet you were caught…”

“Not exactly a fair game when you’re running from a demon,” you shoot back. Satan breathes a laugh, and a moment later, you feel his canines against the column of your throat. He bites down—a cry falling from your lips—and Satan enjoys the way your pussy tightly grips his fingers. Despite the pain laced in your voice, he can feel your walls getting wetter.

“You’re quite mouthy for a pet,” he comments, sitting back a little. There’s a clear impression of his teeth against your neck. Your chest rises and falls quickly—eyes blown wide as you stare at him. Looks like your bratty remarks have finally given way to needy submission.

“How about…,” Satan pulls his fingers from inside of you, watching the way your bottom lip quivers in disappointment. “…you meow for me?”

His two digits—slick with your own arousal—press against your clit and begin rubbing slow, gentle circles. Your skull angles back into the carpet, lips parting in a silent moan, and after a moment your wanton gaze resettles on the demon.

You hesitate, your cheeks getting redder, and Satan grins. He rubs against your clit a bit harder, leaning down to press open mouth kisses to your sternum.

“If you be a good girl and meow, I’ll quit teasing and give you what you want. How’s that sound?”

He mumbles the words against your skin, smiling when he feels your thighs tighten around his hand. It takes a few seconds for you to work up to it, but eventually Satan hears you sigh—giving into your fate.

“N-nyaaa~,” you manage quietly, pitching your voice high, and attempting to come off cute. Your heart is racing against your ribs, embarrassment and arousal clashing as your body continues to heat up.

Satan’s fingers pause against your clit—the blond-haired demon leaning back, and giving you a curious look. It seems like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Despite his inner amusement at making you meow; his dick is throbbing.

He wants to fuck you into the floor.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he remarks, resting back on his knees as his hands fumble to undo his belt. You watch him with wide eyes, surprised at the desperation that is oozing off of him. A part of you wants to tease him for getting so turned-on from making you meow of all things, but you don’t want to jeopardize your chance at finally having his cock inside of you.

And you need this.

A gasp falls from your mouth as Satan grabs you—his fingers tugging at the waistband of your pants. Since you’re fairly desperate yourself, you lift your rear off the floor, making it easier for him to shuck the clothing off of you.

Now, with your lower half revealed to him, Satan wastes no time in settling between your legs. His pants are already shoved down his thighs—cock weeping and hard.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he commands a little breathily as his hands find your hips—guiding you against him. The head of his length rubs between your wet folds, flicking against your clit, before finally dragging down to your sopping hole.

You groan pleasantly as he seats himself between your walls—your legs curling around him as his cock stretches you open--filling you so deliciously. Despite the wrath in his nature telling him to be mean, a hint of fondness tugs at his heart--happy to see your satisfaction.

Leaning down, Satan cups your face. He kisses you hotly—his tongue dragging against your own as he swallows each and every pleasurable sound that threatens to escape you. 

With his cock sheathed within your heat, he kisses you until your breath is completely stolen away.Then, he leans back--his eyes roaming you from head to toe. Hickies litter your chest, your lips are wet and swollen, and the bite mark on your neck is sure to be there for days. He grins with satisfaction at his work.

“What a good pet,” he comments. His hands find your hips once more, and the soft intimacy of the moment has ended. You’re once again his prey.

“Oh--!” you choke in surprise as Satan suddenly thrusts himself into you—his pace fast and rough right from the get-go. Your fingers tear into the carpet beneath you—desperate for something to hold onto. If it weren’t for the remnants of your torn shirt protecting your back, you’re sure you’d have carpet burn in minutes.

“Ah,” Satan bites out, his heart thundering in his chest as he continues fucking into you. With your legs tightly wrapped around him, it makes it so easy for him to grind your pussy onto his dick—his fingers digging into the plush flesh of your hips as he forces you to meet him in the middle.

Uncalled upon, little whines and pleas begin to drip off your tongue. The chase combined with all of Satan’s teasing has gotten you so worked up that you can already feel arousal pooling heavily in your gut. Each drag of the demon’s cock between your walls inches you closer to your release, and at this rate, you won’t last very long.

“S-Satan, I--,” you open your mouth to warn him, but that’s all you can manage. You can barely form a coherent thought, your eyes glazed over as you stare at him. And Satan loves seeing you like this—falling apart beneath him. All it would take is one final push, and he’s sure that you’d unravel.

“Oh? Are you close already?” he teases, despite full well knowing he’s nearing his breaking point as well. Sweat has started to bead on his brow—the ends of his messy blond hair sticking against his forehead. As much as he could poke fun at you for being so close already, he doesn’t have the right. At this rate, he’ll be pumping you full of his seed within the next few minutes.

You bite your lip at his question and manage to nod your head. Your pussy is throbbing around his length—gripping him tighter with each passing second. You’re drowning in your own arousal.

Whining a little, you lift your arms towards the demon—craving to feel him. He’s already fucked any remaining disobedience out of you, and now all you want is to keep him close as he drills you into the floor.

Luckily, Satan is feeling nice enough to give in. He wraps his arms behind you, hugging you tightly against him as he continues fucking his hips into yours. Wet slapping sounds echo down the hallway, and you moan--your fingers digging into his shoulder blades as you wrap yourself around him.

Satan’s breathing is heavy against your ear, quiet pants and curses puffing against your skin as the two of you rocket towards your climaxes. However—

Brrrring Brrrring~

Satan’s rhythm stutters as he feels his DDD begin vibrating against his lower thigh. He growls.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Your head thumps back against the floor in disappointment as Satan untangles himself from around you and wrestles his phone out of his pocket. The screen reads Mammon, and Satan momentarily debates ignoring the call. However, knowing that he’s supposed to be at an important meeting with his brothers and Diavolo currently, he can’t justify doing so.

“What?” he bites in annoyance, connecting the line. Despite also being peeved at the interruption, you find yourself smiling—Mammon’s offended voice reaching your ears as he complains about the rude greeting.

As Satan seethes, you become aware of the fact that his cock is still inside of you. Even though he had picked up the call, he has made a point of keeping himself seated between your warm walls, and the realization has you feeling a little…devious.

“Lucifer is wonderin’ where the hell ya are,” Mammon states after airing his complaints at Satan’s cold greeting. The Avatar of Wrath sighs.

“I’ll be there soon, I’m nearly fin-ished--,” his voice wavers, pitching high in response to your pussy clenching around him.

“You okay, Satan?” Mammon asks curiously as Satan’s narrowed emerald eyes shift down to you. There’s a look of disbelief on his face—had you really just done something so ballsy?—but the anger in his eyes quickly melts into something much more devious.

He leans back a little more—his free hand moving between your legs. Before you can beg him not to, the Avatar of Wrath is quickly rubbing two of his fingers against your aching clit. His motions are swift and damning—a side to side motion that has your eyes rolling back, and your lips parting. A moan threatens to tear out of you, and you hurry to lift your hands and cover your mouth.

A grin tugs at Satan’s lips even as your pussy tightens around his cock once more.

“I’m fine,” he responds after a brief pause, his voice even and put together. It’s a stark contrast to you, who is quite literally writhing beneath him. You cry into your hands—your thighs pressing tightly against Satan’s hips as you attempt to close your legs, but it’s no use.

“…okay then,” Mammon relinquishes, still sounding a little suspicious. “Dinner starts in 30 minutes. Get here by then, alright?”

“I’m sure I’ll finish in time,” Satan replies, now full-out grinning as he watches you squirm. He can feel your pussy pulsating around his length. If he keeps going, there’s no doubt you’ll cum.

“Ya better, or Lucifer will have your ass. Get here soon.” 

With that, Mammon ends the call, and Satan doesn’t hesitate in chucking his phone across the floor. It skids to a stop on the carpet a few feet away just as the demon reaches up and tears your hands away from your mouth.

“You bas--,” you start breathlessly, but Satan cuts you off. His mouth crashes against yours—his arms once more wrapping tightly around your torso as he picks up where you’d left off. And all you can do is moan around his tongue—a thick layer of need blotting out your anger and embarrassment.

Once again, the two of you are thrown into the depths of your pleasure. The world disappears from around you. All you know is Satan, and the way he’s making you feel.

“Please,” you beg, fingernails pressing crescents into the skin of his shoulders. You’re so, so close. You could snap at any second.

Satan notes the way your walls grip him—squeezing tighter with every thrust of his cock, and he bites out a curse. He can feel your breasts pressing against his chest—hear each of your breathless pleas and whines. You’re quite literally falling apart in his fingers, and he has never experienced anything more beautiful.

“Cum.”

Permission.

With a strained cry, you hug yourself to him as tight as you can, and cum. Your body convulses beneath him, your pussy milking around his cock, and you feel his muscles tense. He pants harshly—a near whine caught in his throat—and his rhythm finally falters.

Seating himself inside of you, Satan paints your walls with his seed. His chest heaves as he slumps against you—holding you near as your pussy forces every last drop of cum from his length. Taking a deep breath, you reach a hand up to pet through his blond hair.

“Good?” you question tiredly, turning your head to press a kiss to his ear. Satan hums in affirmation, and you shiver as he drags his hips backwards—his length disappearing from inside of you.

“Very,” he assures you, moving to kiss you.

You smile, happy to hear him say so, and then laugh a little. He cocks an eyebrow, leaning back onto his knees so he can fully look at you.

“What?”

“I think you just have a cat fetish,” you tell him, your ears twitching atop your head. “I mean…we could have sex like this without using the charm, you know?”

Satan turns a little red at that, sheepishly tugging a few strands of damp hair from his forehead.

“I just…think you look really cute like this, okay?”

It’s clear that now that the Avatar of Wrath has gotten his fill, he’s not feeling so mean anymore.

“Then I’ll be your kitty whenever you want,” you tell him, pressing your palms to the floor as you sit yourself up. Satan immediately reaches forward and cups your cheeks—a fond look in his eyes as he guides you into another kiss.

“That’s a dangerous offer,” he tells you, smiling against your lips. You laugh again, and Satan is sure to pepper you with a few more soft kisses before he grabs your hand and helps you to your feet. The two of you put yourselves back together best you can—Satan reassuring you that he’ll buy you a new shirt when he sees you motion to the now destroyed garment on your top half.

“Have fun at dinner,” you tell him as he bends down to retrieve his discarded phone. The demon rolls his eyes, his horns and tail disappearing into thin air.

“Of course.”

Pausing to hug you and kiss you one last time, Satan then makes his way up the hall and disappears from sight. Once he’s gone, you stretch your arms above your head and turn back towards your room. You could really use a shower.

Later than night—just past 1AM—you’re pulled from your sleep by a dip in your bed. An arm wraps around your waist—a nose nuzzling against your neck—and you murmur quietly.

“Satan?”

“Were you expecting someone else?” he shoots back, clearly tired himself. You shake your head “no”, and settle back against the pillow. You feel his fingers lift to pet against the furry ears still lingering atop your scalp, but you can’t be bothered to say anything. The sensation is nice, and it quickly lulls you back to sleep.

“Night,” you mumble, drifting off, and you hear him chuckle.

“Good night.”

In the morning, you wake up safely tucked into Satan’s embrace, and the two of you end up lounging in bed talking for a fair while. You only decide to start the day once your stomach growls, in need of some breakfast.

Exiting your room together (Satan being sure to remind you to cover the bite marks on your neck) the two of you make your way towards the kitchen, but are stopped by a frowning Leviathan.

“What’s up?” you ask, and the otaku motions over his shoulder down the hall.

“Lucifer found some weird stain on the carpet this morning. He’s currently patrolling and is trying to find the culprit.”

At his words, you and Satan freeze. You turn to look at each other—realization shining in your eyes.

You’d both left the scene of your love making without bothering to check if you’d…left a mess.

Well shit.

“Thanks for letting us know, Levi!” you say, grabbing Satan’s wrist and tugging him up the hall.

You need to clean up now.

After all, the last thing you need is Lucifer to start asking about how the stain happened.

[theroyalmenagerie]

Chapter One: Lazy Morning Interrupted

AO3 Link

Chapter Content Warnings: D/s Dynamics, teasing.

__________

The scent of bacon, fresh pastry, and sugary warm blueberries pulled His Royal Highness, Prince Lysander James Reginald von Friedrick Dairune II from sleep.  Through the curtains of his bed, he could see a sliver of bright sunlight, and hear the clinking of silverware as breakfast was set up. Stirring lazily, Lysander smiled at the slide of warm fur and skin against him and the instant complaining from his bedmates as he sat up.

 “Lyyysss nooooo,” Caleb whined, bright blue eyes peeking out from his copper curls as he reached up to pull Lysander back down, “It’s too early,”

 “Much too early,” Anders agreed from the other side, pressing close and placing a languid kiss against Lysander’s shoulder, teeth nipping softly.

 Lysander arched into their touch, luxuriating in the press of their lips against his skin.  Caleb’s tail wrapped around one of his legs and he moaned, pulling the little fox-fae closer for a heated kiss.  Surely breakfast would keep long enough for Lysander to indulge himself at least once.

 Or maybe twice.  

 “On the contrary,” A serious voice called out from the other side of the cavernous room, startling them, “It’s already past noon, and his Highness has an important meeting with the Elurian delegation in two hours, which just might be enough time to get him presentable,”

 “Uggghhh Devereaux, would it kill you to, just once, not be a killjoy?” Anders groaned flopping onto his back.

 Lysander cursed under his breath, moving to sit up, “He’s right, and I meant to tell you two I’d be busy today when you snuck in last night,”

 Caleb tried in vain to keep Lysander down, and when that failed he switched tactics to slide into his lap, pressing his hard cock against the Prince and moaning, “Wouldn't it feel better to postpone your meeting though? Stay here with us, in bed and just rela- HEY!”

 Devereaux ignored his outburst and continued to pull the curtains open, allowing the sunlight to flood onto the bed illuminating the trio, “His Highness knows where to find you if he wishes to relax      after    his duties for the day are fulfilled,”

  Caleb pouted shooting a glare to the interrupting Incubus, nuzzling into Lysander, “Lys! Anders! Back me up!”

 “Lovely though it would be to steal Lysander away, I have no wish to be lectured again about-” Anders stood his blond tail lazily swaying as he stretched and switched to a mocking parody of Devereaux’s voice, “respecting the importance of His Highness’ station and responsibilities to the kingdom,”

 “Perhaps you would not have to be lectured so often if you remembered your place,”

 “Devereaux, Anders, please,” Lysander rubbed his forehead, “I had a wonderful night and would like a matching morning, please don’t start bickering,”

 “Lyyyssss,”

 “I’m sorry sweetheart,” Lysander tilted Caleb’s face up taking his lips in an apologetic kiss, soft and lingering, “I really should start getting ready,”

 “Come along, my mate,” Anders pulled him off of Lysander’s lap, “let steal some of those yummy looking scones and go back to our nest, you’ll just have to settle for me taking care of you until Lysander rejoins us,”

 “It’s never settling with you, dearest,” Caleb purred but still looked over to Lysander, “you will rejoin us though right? You haven’t changed your mind?”

 “I haven’t, I won’t. I should be done before dinner, order a full spread and I’ll join you then,” Lysander promised, standing to see the pair of fox-fae out, not even bothering to wrap himself in a sheet.

 There was little need when everyone in the room had done more than just seen him naked many times before.

 Besides his outfit would be decided by Devereaux, who was already rifling through his wardrobes.  So Lysander bid Anders and Caleb farewell with another kiss for each and then went over to the fireside table laden with his breakfast.  It was beautifully arranged, and still hot, a cup of tea set to the side made exactly how he liked. Devereaux didn’t stand for anything less than perfection, and he demanded such from Lysander.

 “Would you like tea, sir?” Lysander asked, relaxing into the headspace he had when alone with Devereaux and looking forward to spending time with the Incubi Alpha.

 “No.”

 Lysander winced at Devereaux’s harsh tone, unsure for a moment what to do. What had seemed no more than a mild annoyance at finding Lysander lazing in bed with the fox-fae pair was clearly more serious than he’d thought.

 “Sit. Eat.”

 “I-”

 “Do not make me repeat myself, your Highness.”

 “Yes, sir,” Lysander sat down and began to eat slowly, mind spinning.

 The room fell to silence other than the sounds of Devereaux’s searching and Lysander’s uneasy eating. After a few tense moments, Devereaux closed the last of the wardrobes with a sharp click and came over to where Lysander sat, picking at a piece of peppered bacon.

 “Did you forget?”

 “Forget, sir?” Lysander blinked for a moment before the cause of Devereaux’s displeasure hit him like a mace, “Shit! I’m sorr-”

 “Watch your tongue, cursing is unbecoming of one of your station,” Devereaux chided, draping the clothes across the back of an empty chair, “I have no interest in excuses either when the reason for your lapse of memory is plenty evident,”

 “They just arrived back last night and Caleb’s heat is due any time now,” Lysander tried to explain anyway, knowing it was useless but needing the incubus to understand he hadn’t meant any disrespect with his actions.

 “That is not your duty to-”

 “It may not be my duty, but it’s the first time that Caleb has felt comfortable with me joining them for it, that’s why they came last night, to invite me, and frankly I was so honored and… lonely that I forgot yes.”

 “You were lonely for a reason,”

 “I know,”

 “So not only did you disobey me last night, ignoring my orders to remain chaste, you have spent this morning being rude, interrupting me and cursing,”

 Lysander winced.

 “What am I to do with you, your Highness?”

 Lysander’s already low hunger completely evaporated.

 He may be a Prince, but years ago when Devereaux had first crossed his path as an advisor to visiting Incubi dignitaries it was clear to both of them that aside from Lysander’s attraction to the Alpha, he had a craving for a firm hand.  It hadn’t taken long for Lysander to convince Devereaux to take him to bed for a night.  What had started as an intense night then bled into the next and the next.

 Devereaux as he’d promised had taken Lysander in hand, pulling pleasure from the Prince that Lysander didn’t know he could have.  While part of that could be attributed to the incubi’s naturally heightened sexual prowess, part of it was that never before had someone dared demand that the Prince submit.  Despite the fact that he was an omega, no human concubine would ever think of trying such a thing, not that many had the chance to try.

 Lysander never had much desire for the humans that filled his siblings' harems and had begged to be in his, to begin with.  They were all so simpering and bland, hiding any sort of personality in a bid to win a place within Lysander’s harem while refusing to even attempt to truly get to know him.  To add insult to injury, the few he’d tried out of loneliness and need had balked at any attempt by Lysander to control their encounters, so certain that all the omega Prince should want is a knot while being panderingly praised to.

 So for many years, Lysanders bed was rarely filled.  After Devereaux so thoroughly upended the Prince’s world with the fulfillment of his basest desires Lysander had spent weeks convincing the incubus to stay instead of returning home with the delegation.  Promises of riches, status as the Prince’s own concubine, an easy life, Lysander promised it all, desperate not to be left alone and unsatisfied.

 Devereaux nearly said no until Lysander admitted how badly he needed the incubus to stay for more than just his own pleasure, how he wanted to learn from his hand not just to submit but to one day make others submit as he also longed to.  It took a promise to take Devereaux’s training seriously, to heed his advice and his orders when issued, to get him to stay.

 It was the best thing that had happened in Lysander’s life.   Under Devereaux’s tutelage Lysander better understood himself and his desires, and without that Lysander would not be as fulfilled as he was now nor would he have the menagerie he was building of lovers that not only suited his ranging desires but were friends and confidants outside of bed.

 It had been a while since Lysander screwed up this badly, and he hated the feeling of disappointing Devereaux not only as his Dom but his dear friend and mentor.

 “I don’t know, I am sorry truly and I accept the consequences of my actions whatever they may be, sir,”

 Devereaux sighed, “I will ponder it while you attend your duties, for now, we need to get you dressed and that hair tamed, you know the Elurian’s will not look kindly on you being late let alone disheveled,”

 Lysander just nodded and stood, knowing even as Devereaux was upset with him he would still take control of overseeing the Prince getting dressed. Devereaux quite enjoyed dressing Lysander up, it had been one of the first bits of submission he’d demanded from the omega. His enjoyment came from the ritual of the act itself but more importantly the rush from having such control over the Prince, one of the most powerful people in the kingdom, that how he was presented to others was of his choosing.

 It was very clinical compared to how it would otherwise usually go, however; there were no lingering caresses or sprinkled praise for his stillness and compliance and form.  No teasing rolling of his nipples before pulling tight the corsetry that kept him flat throughout the day.  Just quick, efficient movements of pulling and lacing and tucking.

 The clothes were - as always - well picked, better than Lysander would ever have put together. The tunic’s deep green hue echoed those in Lysander’s hazel eyes and matched the stitching of the soft leather pants.  Then there was a richly embroidered vest with gold buttons and matching capelet that made one think of nature, knee-high shiny black boots, and the simple gold circlet that was Lysander’s crown would finish it once his thick black curls were tamed.  It was a good pick for meeting with the Elurian’s who hailed from deep within the forests of Mylsavar, it could evoke pleasant thoughts of their home.

 Much better than the silver and blue idea Lysander had thought he’d go with. Lysander did try when he dressed himself, but there was something about Devereaux’s sense of style that always made him feel more put together and impressive.

 Devereaux’s touch soften a bit as he finished dressing Lysander and moved to carefully comb through the Prince’s curls, braiding and arranging them into the careful half-up-do that he preferred on Lysander, as it emphasized his sharp cheekbones and in the Alpha’s own words, “Entices one to pay attention that they may stay in the presence of such beauty, and encourage them to agree so they please you,”

 “There we go, that’s much better,” Devereaux said after placing the crown, careful to make sure it was straight and secure, “and you don’t even have to rush to make your meeting, your Highness,”

 “Thank you, sir,” Lysander bit his lip, “and again I am sorry,”

 “And you will be forgiven once you receive your punishment,”

 “I… do you want me tonight?”

 “No. You’ve already promised your company to those incorrigible foxes,” Devereaux reminded him gently, turning with him towards the door and walking out with him, “I will not make you break your promise, tomorrow morning will suffice provided Caleb does not begin his heat,”

 “If he does…”

 “Then enjoy satisfying his heat, do not forget to take a dose of your suppressant before you join them, and see me the moment it is over,”

 “Thank you, S-Devereaux,”

 “You are welcome, your Highness, if you have a need of me I’ll be in the gardens,” With that Devereaux faced Lysander and gave him a small smile and a soft touch to his cheek before turning leaving the Prince to walk the rest of the way to his meeting by himself.

       Lysander wanted to scream, this was the third set of meetings this year with the Elurian’s and they were no closer to having a trade agreement that satisfied both nations than they were before the first.   To make matters worse this whole bit of politics was far from Lysander’s usual duties, he much preferred being charged with running more internal logistics rather than ones that required diplomacy with the other nations.

 Give him an infrastructure project to plan, tax laws to adjust, anything but meeting with foreign dignitaries and having to navigate the complicated social interactions to avoid war.

 “I understand your concerns, but until the solstice harvest is over even I am not allowed in the groves,” Lysander tried to calm the increasingly irate delegates.

 “How can we be assured of your ability to fill the needs we have if we cannot confirm that your groves are producing the quantity that you claim?”

 “If you are willing to wait until-”

 “We have already waited! Six months!”

 “I am aware, but the first party you sent to us were invited to tour the grove when such a visit was acceptable and they said that was unnecessary, by the time you returned demanding access we’d reached the season where only the Hyla were allowed inside,”

 “Surely your gods will not strike you down for allowing us to simply see the grove, we need not touch anything,”

 “The fact the grove is blessed is why you wish to trade with us, please do not then disrespect our beliefs with demands we cannot concede to,”  Lysander struggled to keep his tone calm and pleasant, to draw every bit of patience he had on not starting an incident, “You are more than welcome to come after the harvest,”

 “It will be too late after the harvest to get everything in order to have the Kysri brought back to the Elra this year, that would leave us till next year before we can have its aid,”

 On and on it went for hours, too tense to even have food brought in.  With neither side willing or able to concede no progress could be made. By the time they had to call the negotiations for the day Lysander had a pounding headache and all he wanted was a stiff drink and a tongue buried in his cunt.

 “We will have to table this for now, I’m afraid I have other appointments I must keep tonight,”

 “Our convoy leaves tomorrow,” the head delegate hissed, “What are we to do then?”

 “If you are still interested, as we are, in opening trade between our nations I suggest you come back after the harvest season to see the yield, we are more than willing to work with you to ensure if you are pleased that a shipment of Kysri can be brought back with you.  I know that is less than you were hoping for but it would ensure aid to some of your people at least,”

 That led to another hour of debating before Lysander managed to convince them to leave him be, and as the last of them left Lysander finally let out the frustrated groan that would have to do because he didn’t feel like explaining why he was screaming to his guards.

 “Well that certainly was something,” a low, dark voice drawled out from behind Lysander suddenly.

 “Sebastian! Goodness, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” Lysander spun around to see Sebastian melt out of the shadows, bright red eyes shining.

 “Goodness? You’ve been spending too much time with Devereaux” he snorted, giving Lysander a heated once over, lingering on the exposed length of his neck.

 “He has a point, you know, about my speech needing to represent my station,”

 Sebastian just rolled his eyes, “Way too much time,”

 “Well at least he wants to spend time with me,” Lysander huffed, trying to ignore the twinge in his chest as he addressed the vampire, “If I didn’t know better I’d say you sound jealous,”

 “Of that better-than-thou priss? Never.” Sebastian stepped forward, crowding against the Prince, “Was he? When he found you in bed with the foxes?”

 Lysander blushed a little but didn’t move, looking up at him deliberately, “Do I even want to know how you know that?”

 “Well he abandoned his precious garden hours early today to go pace in the library, and you still smell of them,” Sebastian leaned down and ran his nose down Lysander’s neck and following it with a featherlight kiss against his heartbeat causing the Prince to shiver, “It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why his panties are in a bunch,”

 “Devereaux doesn’t get jealous, you know he doesn’t care for me that way, he was just… disappointed… I disobeyed him,” Lysander breathed out, pulse-pounding and heat curling low from the presence of the Alpha who moved so his hands rested against Lysander’s hips.

 Sebastian tsked, his warm breath teasing against the Prince’s neck, “Naughty boy, you know better,”

 “I know,” Lysander couldn’t help tilting his head up further.

 “Pity it’s Devereaux’s right to discipline you for it,” Sebastian let his teeth scrape against Lysander’s pulse point, teeth aching to sink in as the omega’s arousal heightened and that wonderful scent of warm honey and cloves filled the air around him, “Is that where you’re heading now?”

 “I… Uhm...”

 “What was that?”

 Lysander took a shaky breath, trying to clear the arousal from his mind long enough to answer, “I’m rejoining Caleb and Anders, actually,”

 “Oh? Are you joining for all of Caleb’s heat? Going to play Alpha with a fake knot while wishing it was you hot and fertile and being bred like a good little omega?”

 “I-I’m going to join them, yes,” Lysander swallowed hard, “are you jealous now?”

 Sebastian chuckled and straightened up, leaving Lysander feeling bereft, “Oh no, little Prince, not at all, I hope you enjoy your little game,”

 It was a lie but the little Prince didn’t need to know the growing possessiveness that burned in the back of Sebastian’s mind.  He had no right to those feelings. Sebastian had known better than to begin having them in the first place, but the little Prince was so addicting, so intriguing, he hadn’t been able to convince himself to leave him behind yet.

 Lysander was more than a little flustered, wanting to reach out and pull Sebastian back or maybe just drop to his knees and beg.   Instead, he cleared his throat, “I will, now if you don’t need anything else? I’m already late,”

 “Go, have fun Lysander, I’ll catch up with you when you’re not so busy,” Sebastian turned to leave looking over his shoulder before fading back into the shadow at Lysander breathing hard and still blushing and tried hard to ignore the pang in his chest that he wasn’t taking the omega to bed instead.

[bilgisticallykosher]

Devil On His Shoulders And Lesser Demons All Over The Place; AKA Well, There Goes The Metasphere

As a note, I actually don't believe that Mandy is that angsty. The rumors of her sadism have been greatly exaggerated. As another note, I'd just like to apologize to everyone. Inspired by Devil On My Shoulder by Lime. Or the shortened version, DOMS. Which is ridiculous; clearly Mandy is the only dom here.

Words: Just under 2000

Lime sighed, careful not to cause too much movement to his little "shoulder devil" as he secretly liked to think of her. Mandy was great, and the scenarios were fun to think about, but he could never actually write them. He loved his characters too much to ever hurt them permanently. And yet…

Well, at any rate, he was still out of ideas. And this little (heh) theoretical session hadn't helped any. Maybe he'd have to start from scratch after all. The curtains fluttered in the windless atmosphere, and a bright light flickered from beyond them. Lime squinted. What in the heck? 

"...and since he doesn't know about the others living in his house, he doesn't get them out from the flooding!" Mandy concluded her dreary thought. She looked up and blinked. "Hey, what's that-" She cut herself off with a soundless noise that might have very well been a curse, as a fire bird flew in out of nowhere, and landed lightly on Lime's other shoulder. 

He flinched, but it turned out to not be hot, just pleasantly warm. 

"Um, hi?" He greeted, bewildered. 

"I know I'm not exactly one to talk," the phoenix began, definitely actually talking, "but I think you can do a little better than Miss Not-So-Infinitesimally Angsty." Mandy gasped. 

"How dare?!" The phoenix, who Lime now realized was Phoenix, rolled their eyes. 

"I'm just saying, there's maybe an imbalance there on hurt/comfort you know?" They had a point. 

"Hey, I know how to do comfort!" Mandy huffed. "I get plenty of comfort from readers screaming in the comments." Lime groaned. Phoenix, being one of her screaming readers, slapped their face with their hand- er, wing. 

"Alright, I think I need some backup," they said, muffled through their feathers. They dropped their wing and sent out a fire symbol. Lime couldn't quite see what it was, or if they used their mouth like a dragon, or if it was a feather or something. Pretty awesome, though. 

And suddenly there was a purple butterfly hovering in front of him. At least this newcomer wasn't too hard to figure out. 

"Nyn?"

"I hear you're having trouble with some plot ideas?" She seemed excited and willing to help, something Lime was very grateful for. 

"Yes, thank you so much, I can't seem to get away from the really awful permanent death ones." Lime stared obviously at Mandy, who just shrugged nonchalantly, spinning her magic pen around. 

"Ah. Yes. Well, I've got the perfect solution!" Her voice was so sweet-sounding, it was like music to his ears. Phoenix nodded their head. 

"Yes?" Lime listened raptly. 

"Kill 'em anyways." He froze. Surely, he must have misheard. 

"Wh-" he floundered for coherent English. "What?" 

"If you wanna kill them, kill them!" There was a snort from his shoulder.

"But your stories are usually so cute! And fluffy!"

"Usually,” she emphasized. "Unless Mandy picks the wrong number." Lime turned to Mandy, horrified. 

"Whoops," she deadpanned. 

"I wrote a fic about the werewolf getting a kitten," Phoenix said reproachfully.

Then he got distracted by a voice at his feet. 

"Heya!"

"Aah!"

"Woah!"

"Geez, now I know how Virgil felt," the voice joked. Lime looked down. It looked like...a box? With little cat features? That was adorable, but admittedly very confusing. He had to contain himself from petting. His talons twitched. 

No! Big, scary dragon! Rawr! He wouldn't cave to some weird kitty box! 

… Who was he kidding? He'd be cuddling it within the hour. 

Mandy squinted, staring down at the creature. She steadied herself on Lime's shoulder before sliding down his arm. He grumbled something about safety that went unheeded. 

"Kat?" She asked, tilting her head. "Is that you?" The box- Kat, apparently- nodded. 

"Yep. I'm here to help out!" Mandy squinted. 

"Why the heck do you look like that?"

"Well, like my username. You know," she sighed, Callboxkat? Box Kat? Box cat? Yeah."

"Wait, isn't it supposed to be a callbox? As in a telephone booth?"

"Yeah, but the author doesn't watch Doctor Who." Kat watched Nyn fluttering back and forth, repressing her newfound cat urges. 

"Wait. I thought we were the authors?" Phoenix furrowed their eyebrows. 

"Listen, this is already so meta, does it really matter?" Kat raised an eyebrow. 

"Fair point." Mandy jerked her thumb back in Lime's direction over her shoulder. "So, do you have any suggestions?"

"Do I?!"

"Do you?" Lime echoed back at her.

"So I was thinking," she box-stepped over to one of the lower-set universe basins, "you take some of your tiny characters,"

"Yeah…" He considered the few universes where he had borrowers.

"Then you slap a tail on them, and have them almost drown!" She concluded triumphantly, lithely swaying her own tail at the mention of them. 

"Almost drown them?" Lime asked warily.

“Almost drown them?" Mandy asked with a gleam in her eye. 

"Okay, that's it." A new voice called out. Lime thought he recognized it, turning his head to confirm. Yep, there Allison was, dressed in her own witch outfit of purple and teal. "You," she pointed at Mandy with her magic quill "have had enough angst for the day. You're being cut off."

"No!" Mandy pouted, readying her puppy dog eyes. 

"Yes," Allison crossed her arms triumphantly. 

"Um, not to encourage her," Phoenix spoke up, turning to face her, "but haven't you been just as guilty of angst recently?" 

"What do you mean?" Allison frowned, confused. 

"Yeah!" Kat turned to her, "all those Perspectives lately have been pretty heavy and angst-laden."

"Wh- hey, first of all, recently is subjective, we wrote those a while ago. And we've had a lot of fluff in there, too!" Lime considered this. 

"Vampire Perspective, Pet Perspective…" he listed off. 

"Mandy's been choosing the wrong numbers," Nyn nodded. 

"And! And Lilliputian, Freezing, those were also recent-ish!"

"Face it," Mandy suddenly appeared next to Allison, leaning her arm on her friend, "we're in the same boat now." She flopped over dramatically into her arms. "I've corrupted you."

"Noooo…"

"Hey, Allison, what's that building on your hat, by the way?" Phoenix asked. She sighed, and threw a photo version their way. 

"Arc."

"Oh my god." There were snickers around. Mandy was still draped over Allison, shaking her head at the truly awful pun. 

"PSSSST!" Everyone turned around. There, as if summoned by the bad humor, was a stick figure, looking shifty-eyed, and unmistakably Lefay. She was wearing a trenchcoat, and hat. Of course, the hat wasn't the typical hat associated with a trenchcoat. It was, instead, an umbrella-hat.

"Um," a new voice came in before they could address that. They turned back, seeing a small snail with a dorsal fin on his back. Fin. Lime was starting to see a terrible, terrible pattern here. "I was also invited, but, I don't know, maybe I should leave? You guys are all so cool, I think I probably don't belong here."

"Fin, please!" Everyone chorused together. 

"Alright, alright!" He acquiesced, really taking in the room. "Hey, I guess not everyone's cool, you're looking pretty hot, Phoenix!" He made finger guns at them somehow, and they laughed at his antics. Lime smiled, before remembering the previous interruption. 

"Hey, Lefay," Lime started, slowly, turning back to her, "why's there an umbrella on your head?"

"The costume store was out of trench hats-"

"There's no way that's what they're called," Allison balked. 

"-so I decided to go with the rain theme. And I got this instead!" She patted the umbrella headband happily before tensing, and crouching inward, voice lowering to what was definitely not how she spoke a second ago. "Pssst. Hey, hey kid. C'mere. I hears ya need some help with your woiks."

Lime took a moment to mentally translate this. He was uncertain, but he did need help with his works. He twisted his long, scaly neck over to where she stood. 

"Yeah, alright."

She opened her trench coat wide, causing a flinch or two throughout the group, to reveal what was lined on the inside. Lime could identify a turnip, a rutabaga, celeriac, a parsnip, a yam, taro, a daikon, and jicama. "Um…" Lime was confused. "What-"

"Oh my god" Kat put her paws over her face. 

"Did youse need help wit' some titles?" Lefay waggled her eyebrows. There was absolute silence, aside from some traitorous snickering from some of the others. 

"..............No," Lime decided on as his response. "Titles I can figure out later, but I just need some story ideas to title in the first place." 

"Oh, why didn't you say so!" She responded in her normal voice. "I can totally help with that!" Lime brightened. Lefay smiled back, and then promptly fell to the floor, pillow under her head, asleep. 

Lime flinched back, and turned back to the rest of the room, slumping his head in his hands. 

"This is never going to work," he lamented. "I'll never get a new idea like this!"

"Well," Nyn cut in, "maybe that's your answer." Lime slowly lifted his head, squinting in confusion. "I mean, if you're not coming up with ideas this way, maybe this way isn't the way to go about it?"

"Right," Allison agreed, as Mandy un-flopped from her. "Just because this works for some people, or even if it's worked for you before, doesn't mean you have to use this method."

"Inspiration comes differently for everyone." Kat piped in, tail swishing in excitement. "You shouldn't feel pressured to choose one specific way and stick to it." 

"And if you're forcing yourself to come up with ideas, doesn't that negate why you're writing in the first place?" Phoenix added. 

"Heck yeah!" Fin shouted. "Writing fanfic is supposed to be fun!" Mandy gently put a hand on his arm. 

"You shouldn't feel pressured at all. If you can't think of something to write, you don't have to." Lime looked up at her, she smiled gently down at him. "You're allowed to not write. You're allowed to take a break. You're allowed to put yourself first." Lime sniffed out a laugh, before looking at all the smiling, encouraging faces of his friends and fellow fanders. 

"Okay, I give. You guys are right." He stood up on all fours, nails clacking against the wood floor. "Now let's get out of this…" he looked around again, frowning. "Wait, where are we?"

"Looks like a stage of some sort?" Kat voiced, uncertainly. A voice sounded from all around them. 

"I'm a theater, sweetheart." Brook responded. There was a rimshot.

"You know, it's things like this that make me really glad that I picked my authorsona myself." Lime deadpanned. Allison and Mandy nodded. 

Over in the corner, a shovel fell over onto a sketchpad in agreement. 

"Yeah, I don't know who's doing this," Mandy spoke a little too nonchalantly, "but these are really, really bad. Like, objectively terrible. I mean just completely awful. As if whoever did it started with zero sense of humor, and then got worse." Hey, watch it, witchy, I’m in control of this story. "And I'm in control of a lot more stories, I can make angst like you wouldn't believe," she cheerfully stated, appropriate of nothing, according to the others' perspectives. 

…I surrender. 

Mandy smirked, satisfied, before bounding over to Lime's back. "So, wanna give us a ride back?"

"Sure," Lime offered his hands out, palms flat for everyone (except for those with wings) to climb on. When everyone had settled, he spread his wings, and took flight. As he faded into the horizon, he mumbled to himself, "Maybe I'll write something with Virgil…"

About a minute after he left, Lefay jolted awake. 

"Alright! I've got like six more plausible ideas for AUs, there's this one where-" Lefay paused, looking around. She seemed distressed for a moment, before continuing. "-but I never figured out what happened with the incident with the noodles. TIME FOR MORE RESEARCH!" She pointed dramatically up to the sky, before immediately flopping back into sleep. 

BONUS!

There was a ringing sound. Every set of eyes snapped to the source. 

"Are you ringing from your body?” Allison asked Kat incredulously. 

"I've got a phone in the box," Kat blushed, fishing it out.

"Getting a call, box-Kat?" Mandy grinned wickedly. Kat barked at her. Mandy frowned. 

"Why-"

"I love dogs," she shrugged. 

@callboxkat @delimeful @hiddendreamer67 @theatresweetheart @lefaystrent @infinimay @enby-phoenix @arc852 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @eatingashovel (not by name but you make an appearance)

[dominicmorningstar]

Shopping Trip

Summary: Sharp needs to expand her wardrobe beyond workout clothes. Yuki and Dom are there to help, whether she likes it or not.

Archive of Our Own Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21246359

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

"Do you own anything besides athletic wear, Sharp-chan?" Yuki said, raising a brow at Sharp's sports bra and athletic shorts.

The trio of demons were hanging out in Yuki's room at her Okiya, though it could more accurately be described as an apartment. It was a perfect blend of traditional Japanese architecture with all the modern conveniences; TV, computer and a more modern, if small kitchen. The demons were lounging around a table, Dom sitting on a couch with Sharp laying in his lap while Yuki did her makeup while gazing into a small mirror.

"Not really. Most clothes aren't built for my body anyway." Sharp said, casually flexing her arms, which were crossed behind her head.

"Could say the same for me," Dom said. "But I found a brand that makes suits that fit me without having to get them custom-tailored." 

Sharp chuckled. "You just like their tagline. 'Eighteen-inch biceps are hard to come by, a suit that fits them shouldn't be.'"

“It’s an awesome tagline,” Dom said, not bothering to deny it. “It’s one of the few non-athletic lines that cater to the man that doesn’t skip leg day.” 

“Exactly; man,” Sharp said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “While the extremely ripped man might be a not so common sight, you never see women built like me. Society doesn’t exactly advocate muscular women.”

“Since when do you care what they say?” Yuki said, glancing up from her mirror as she pulled out her lip paints. 

“I don’t care about what they say. It’s what they don’t make that keeps me from dressing up. Though it is kind of a badge of pride for me that I can bust out of clothes made for ‘normal people.’” Sharp said, using air quotes.

“I agree,” Dom said, smirking. There was something that made him a little smug knowing he could actually flex and rip a shirt made for ‘regularly built’ men.

“I’m sure we can get you some clothes that you won’t wear to the gym,” Yuki said, placing her makeup brush down. 

“Why are you getting up?” Sharp asked, ears flattening in worry.

“Shopping trip?” Dom asked, perking up. 

“Yes,” Yuki said before opening the shoji door and shouting for someone to bring a car around front. 

“Do I get a say in this?” Sharp asked indignantly as Dom yanked her off the couch.

“Nope.” The demons chimed before dragging the lioness downstairs and out the front door. 

~

“This is so dumb.” Sharp sighed in aggravation as she was dragged through a massive mall. 

“There is nothing dumb about fashion, Sharp-chan,” Yuki said, pressing her closed fan to her lips as she scanned the stores. When going out and about, or simply when she wasn’t working, Yuki shed her heavy formal kimonos for shorter ones that only came down to her knees. She also shed Geta shoes for simple flats. The reasoning behind both changes was simple; it made walking easier. 

“Didn’t think you'd be so excited to go to the mall?" Sharp said, glancing at Dom who was also scanning the stores.

"Why, because I'm a man?" Dom asked, not looking at her.

"A straight man." 

"A cis-gendered straight man can care about fashion," Dom said, before finding a store that had what he was looking for. "I'm about to introduce you to the wonderful power of jeggings." He said, grabbing Sharp's wrist and pulling her in.

"How do you know about jeggings, Dom-Kun?" Yuki asked, blue eyes scanning the store.

"Women can be chatty after sex and sometimes they do online shopping while I'm still catching my breath," Dom said. "Though I'm afraid this is where my expertise ends. Yuki, you're up."

"SHE DOESN'T EVEN WEAR PANTS!" Sharp screeched as Yuki dragged her towards the dressing room, picking up various pants along the way.

Dom sat on one of the little couches by the dressing rooms. It was hilarious to hear Sharp screeching and sputtering as Yuki, presumably, forcibly removed her pants and shoved her into one of the new pairs. Whenever Sharp came out of the dressing room the knight made a show of clapping and cheering which made Sharp's ears go hot. 

This process continued for a few stores. A lot of stretchy pants and shirts with shoulder flattering necklines. They had many different bags. While shopping wasn't his favorite activity in the world, helping his friend was. Sharp was standing on a slightly raised platform, surrounded by mirrors as Yuki straightened out a more business-like outfit on the muscular lioness. Because the fox demon was so focused on the clothes, she didn't catch where Sharp's eyes kept straying to.

"You keep looking at that blue dress," Dom said, gesturing at the mannequin behind him.

"It's... pretty," Sharp said, her ears flattening. 

"Sharp-chan! You would look so good!" Yuki said, blue eyes sparkling and her fox tail wagging. 

"I can't wear something like that!" Sharp said, looking shy and nervous, a very rare sight. She was even starting to play with her tail.

"Can my friend try that dress on?" Dom asked a sales associate.

"Why can't you wear a dress, Sharp-chan?" Yuki asked hands on her hips.

"I can't- I don't have... the figure..." She trailed off, ears flat against her head.

Yuki said something angrily in Japanese that Dom didn't understand. His feathers were ruffled and his wings were drooping, both angry and sad that his friend thought she couldn't wear dresses because of how she was built. 

"You're going to try on that dress, you're going to twirl and you'll be pretty," Dom said firmly. 

Yuki effectively said the same thing, though with more angry, Japanese side tangents. The Geisha shoved Sharp back into the changing room once she had the dress. Dom heard more scuffling and eventually, even his patience wore thin.

“Don’t make me go in there, Sharp!” He snapped.

Eventually, the lioness demon was forcibly shoved out of the changing room, looking very nervous and flustered. She was wearing a powder blue, chiffon dress with a jeweled neckline. Yuki emerged shortly thereafter, adjusting her Kimono and righting her hair. Sharp turned to face the fox demoness and Dom, who let out a wolf whistle with an embarrassed and angry face. 

“I can’t wear this!” She snapped.

“Well, you are,” Yuki said, smiling much like the fox she was. 

“I have nowhere I would need to wear this!”

“I can start inviting you to royal functions,” Dom said, smirking. When Sharp’s eyes widened in a panic he backtracked. “But we can start with a more formal dinner together.”

The lioness was clearly scrambling for excuses.

“Well I’m not going to spend this much on a dress,” Sharp said, showing them a four-digit price tag.

“We are,” Yuki said, grinning more.

“Consider it a present for being so awesome.” Dom grinned, looking at his friend.

Sharp whirled around with a growl, crossing her arms, though her friends could see the tiny smile in the mirrors.

[psychosistr]

Don’t Cost a Thing- Part 6

Summary: Steelbeak has a surprise present for Domino the next day at work- one that he actually LIKES for a change.

Notes: Bit more fluff in this one to cool down after all the blood from the last two parts ^^”

-First Part-

The next day at work, Dominic couldn’t help but wonder about his partner’s physical condition with a touch of curiosity (and some mild concern).

After meeting up with the fowl at their headquarters that afternoon, it was immediately obvious that Steelbeak had not gotten much sleep, if any, the previous night. His eyes were dark & blood shot, his bright red comb & darker tail feathers were a little more disheveled than usual, and his movements & speech were both rather sluggish. The only thing about him that retained its usual sense of class and order was his suit- the black, white, and red outfit was as perfectly maintained as ever, with no trace of the blood stains from last night visible anywhere on his clothes.

When they were granted a ten minute reprieve in the break room before having to attend their debriefing- apparently Ample and Ammonia were busy giving their own much less favorable account of a scheme that had been thwarted by Darkwing Duck- Dominic considered asking if his partner was feeling well enough to give the report, but was given no such chance. Instead, the taller bird just grabbed a Styrofoam cup of coffee, barely taking the time to add anything to it, and walked out of the room with the announcement that he’d be back in a few minutes.

Dominic was confused, but once again shrugged off the odd behavior. If Steelbeak was out late and suffering from a lack of sleep, then it was his own fault for not having better time management skills.

Punctual as ever, Steelbeak returned five minutes later. His cup of coffee was gone and in its place was a large but rather flat white box. “Here.” Was the one word explanation he gave when he unceremoniously dropped the box on the table in front of Dominic.

The loon eyed the box with a slight scowl. Another present? Seriously? He was hoping the other man would have taken the hint by now and moved past such flashy displays. “I don’t-”

“Just shut up and open the box, Dominic.” The rooster interrupted him, his voice worn out and rough from his obvious lack of sleep. Instead of waiting to make sure his partner would do as he said, Steelbeak turned to the door once again. “I’m too tired for this. I’m gonna splash some water on my face. See ya in the meetin’ room.” He gave a lazy wave over his shoulder before leaving the room for good.

Dominic continued to eye the box with a look of irritation for at least a good minute after his partner left. He was half-tempted to throw it in the trash, but he managed to reign in his initial impulse.

Something about this felt…different…

Normally Steelbeak would make much more of a show out of giving him a gift. He would leave it in his car, or in his apartment, or even offer it to him directly in some grand way. The rooster was nothing if not flashy, and to just drop a box down in front of him didn’t seem like his usual style.

Not to mention the actual state of the package was far different than what he’d become reluctantly used to. There was no shimmering wrapping paper or neat bows or ribbons to hold it together. There wasn’t even a completely unnecessary card with its frustratingly familiar message. There was only the plain white box and nothing more.

The lack of presentation and wrapping could have simply been due to the other bird’s lack of sleep and this being a last-minute decision, but even THAT possibility didn’t feel quite right.

Then there was the part that really threw him off: Steelbeak had called him “Dominic”.

Over the months that they’d been forced to work together, the aquatic avian had grown used to a variety of names and nicknames from his partner: Dee. Deedee. Dom. Red-eyes. Short-fuse. Stripes. Wise-guy. And, of course, Domino.

To have the other bird just call him by his name, whether it was slip of the tongue due to lack of sleep or irritability, was honestly surprising.

With a significantly reluctant but resigned attitude, Dominic opened the box and saw-

“My coat??” He had to blink to make sure he wasn’t seeing things because there was absolutely no way it was real.

But, as he pulled the oh-so-familiar white, black and red article of clothing from the box, there was no mistaking it: This was indeed his signature coat.

He was understandably confused by this fact, as he’d left his unsalvageable garment at the bar last night, fully resigned to the fact that he’d have to order a new one. And yet, there it was, good as new. Looking the fabric over thoroughly, Dominic honestly couldn’t even tell if this was the same coat from before or a brand new one that was simply a VERY accurate remake of the previous one- at this point, he honestly would have believed either option given how immaculate it was.

Standing up to put it on properly, he was pleased to find that it still fit perfectly, whether it was a remake or a restoration. It had even been cleaned and pressed, making the edges stand just a bit straighter. He glanced over and caught the sight of his reflection in the metal fridge across the room. It felt good to have his coat back again- it added another layer between himself and the people around him that he found comfort in while on-duty.

Looking back down at his outfit, Dominic felt a small smile slip onto his beak. His coat was a one of a kind item, not something that could have just been purchased at some high-dollar shop in town. That meant that, whether Steelbeak got his old one repaired or had simply commissioned a new one to be made in its place, he would have had to spend a significant amount of time with a tailor describing the article of clothing and what it was supposed to look like in great detail to make sure it came out right.

A significant amount of time that likely equated to the sleep he’d lost last night…

Dominic felt himself smile a little more at the thought, giving a short, quiet chuckle. “Well,” He spoke quietly to himself. “If this is how he wants to throw his money around, I guess I can’t complain.”

He really couldn’t. After all, this was a gift that, without a doubt, had a lot of thought put into it and was something picked out just for him.

<-Previous Part Final Part->

End Notes: Short and sweet before getting to the ending. Steelbeak’s finally starting to get the right idea! Hooray XD

[imagining-supernatural]

Dress

Summary: Dean and the reader have a conversation about how women buy dresses with the intention of someone taking it off of them just before she leaves for a date. (see warnings for the rest of it)

Word Count: 3474

Warnings: Partial nudity, slightly dom!Dean, foreplay, implied smut, NSFW

A/N: So, I was listening to this album on repeat yesterday while doing a puzzle and venting to my imaginary Dean and thus this idea was born.

Based off Dress by Taylor Swift

Version en Español: Vestido

“Do girls really do that?” I blurted out.

Y/N spared me a brief glance before turning back to the puzzle she was focused on. “Do what?”

“Buy a dress just so the guy they want will take it off them?” I wasn’t surprised she was tuning out the new Taylor Swift album that had been on repeat all damn day. I would never tell anyone, but it was growing on me and it was entirely Y/N’s fault. “I thought chicks bought clothes they liked and shit.”

She looked up at me for a longer moment with an incredulous expression. “Of course we do, Dean. Do you really think that all those women you see at bars like wearing six-inch heels or dresses that constantly need to be readjusted? Hell no. Women are on the prowl for sex just as much as men are.”

Y/N pushed her glasses back up on her nose and glanced at the clock for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. This was one of our rare nights off from hunting. Why was she so preoccupied with the time? “Have you ever done that?”

“Not for a specific guy, but I’ve bought a few dresses like that for the nights I wanna get laid without having to put in the effort to find a guy.” She held up a puzzle piece to the picture on the box and examined it closely, trying to figure out exactly where it went. The first time I’d watched her do a puzzle, I thought it was the weirdest way to do a puzzle. Wasn’t it easier to just get all the pieces of the same color and fit those together rather than placing the pieces haphazardly in the border and going from there?

Of course, I’d never really thought about puzzles before Y/N came to live with us. There was a lot I hadn’t thought about before she came to live with us.

“Actually,” she said, tilting her head slightly and pursing her lips and she reconsidered her answer. “There is one guy I had in mind when I went shopping, but I never got the chance to use the dress on him.”

“Why not?”

“He’s never been interested in me like that,” she shrugged nonchalantly. I didn’t understand how she could just brush off everything so easily. The only thing that ever fazed her was when we couldn’t save civilians on a hunt. Even then, she was able to recover more quickly than Sam or me.

“What an idiot,” I muttered, watching as she got pulled back into the puzzle vortex. Any guy would be such a lucky bastard to get Y/N’s attention. Even in a ratty t-shirt, baggy sweats I’m sure she stole from me at some point, her hair in a low pony-tail, big glasses, and no makeup, she was still breathtaking.

And I’ve seen her when she did her makeup and hair and shit and she went from her usual adorable, nerdy, funny self to a sexy as hell woman who commanded attention and respect. There wasn’t a single look that Y/N couldn’t pull off.

Then she glanced at the clock again and my curiosity got the better of me. “What’s so interesting about that clock?”

“I have to leave for a date in about ten minutes.”

A date? “Like, an actual date?”

She nodded, forehead scrunching as she tried to figure out where to place the puzzle piece she’d just picked up. “Well, kinda. Mariah’s had a rough week, so we’re going on a double date with the guy she likes and his douchey roommate. I’m going along to make her look good and make sure she has a good time.”

“Make her look good? Shouldn’t you be, like, I don’t know, helping her get ready then?”

“Not that kind of helping her look good.” Her attention was still completely on the puzzle as she answered me. “I mean she’s spent at least an hour getting ready and is gonna look super hot, and I’ll be the friend who isn’t as pretty tonight so she gets all of the attention. I’m the confidence booster tonight.”

I scoffed and closed my laptop, setting it aside. I hadn’t been doing anything on it for the last hour, and it was about time I gave up the pretense. “You really think that’ll work?”

Please. Even in her old shirt and sweats, she was still every straight guy’s fantasy. There was no way anyone could upstage her.

“It always does.”

“Makeup doesn’t make that much of a difference, sweetheart. Especially when you look as good as you do naturally.”

She rolled her eyes at the puzzle, brushing off my compliment as usual. “It’s not just makeup, Dean. It’s the hair and the outfit and the ego boost that give you. Guys can sense when a girl has put effort into her appearance.”

“I’m a guy and—”

“I’m just gonna stop you right there, Dean. You are a guy, which is why I know that you won’t get this. I’ve watched you fall prey to this tactic so many times since I met you.” She finally set aside the puzzle box with the remaining pieces and stood up, coming to sit next to me on the bed. “It’s all an illusion, and in the low lights of a bar, dudes can’t even tell they’re being manipulated.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Next time you’re out at a bar and you see your conquest of the night, take a step back and look at her friends, if she has any with her. I can almost guarantee you that the woman you set your sights on is the one who spent more time on her appearance for the night. I’ve seen you do it so many times.”

I think I was offended. Besides, lately the only woman who had been catching my attention at bars was Y/N no matter how long she spent getting ready. “You’re calling me shallow?”

“I’m calling you susceptible to subtle manipulations.” She reached over and patted my cheek consolingly before standing up. “Don’t worry, it’s not a bad thing. Now close your eyes. I have to change.”

It never mattered how many times we’d seen each other nearly naked as we stitched each other up. Y/N was still more modest than any hunter I’d ever met. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back against the headboard and got lost in my thoughts.

It bugged me that she was going on a date tonight. Our first night off in nearly a month and she was going to spend it with a douchey guy instead of spending a night in with me like usual. She normally didn’t go on dates anyway. She was more introverted than, well, any hunter I’d ever met. Y/N was pretty much the opposite of what I’d thought of hunters. Quiet and reserved. But still a damn fine hunter.

Oh, don’t worry. I’ve already owned up to my feelings for her. Sam called me out a few weeks ago and, since then, I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. But I haven’t told her. So, really, I shouldn’t have any real reason to be jealous that she was going out with someone else. I didn’t have any claim on her.

That didn’t stop me from wanting to wring the guy’s neck, though.

“Okay, you’re good to open.”

Even in jeans and a dark purple, fitted t-shirt, she still short-circuited my brain. Luckily, she was too focused on choosing a necklace to notice my reaction. And she really thought that anyone else would upstage her tonight?

“Will you be back tonight?”

“Yeah. I’m not going to go home with whatever the fuck his name is.” She finally settled on a necklace and began a search for her phone and purse.

“Sweetheart, you’ll have your pick of any guy in that bar.” Why the hell was I encouraging this? I wanted her in my bed.

Besides the pink tinge on her cheeks, she didn’t acknowledge the compliment. “I’m looking forward to sleeping in in my own bed in the morning. I’m not going home with anyone tonight. If Mariah hadn’t had such a bad week, I wouldn’t have even agreed to this stupid date in the first place.”

“All people-ed out?”

Being around other people was exhausting to Y/N. I didn’t understand it, but I was glad that I seemed to be an exception to that rule. She didn’t seem to tire of spending time with Sam and me.

“Yeah. Keep your phone close. I might need you to call me with a fake emergency.”

*****

It was barely ten thirty when I heard Y/N come home. Sounds like her date had been even worse than she was expecting if she was home before midnight. Whenever she went out with Mariah, she was usually gone until at least two in the morning. Then, of course, she would need a few days to recover from all of the socializing.

Staying in my bed rather than going to talk to her took all of my self-control. If she wanted to talk about it, she would come find me. A lot of the time, after a night where she was around people for too long, she just needed a few hours alone.

I could hear her in her room next to mine for a few minutes before everything went silent. She was probably watching Netflix with her headphones on.

You’ll see her in the morning, I tried telling myself, but still couldn’t make myself relax.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard her soft knock on my door. “Yeah?”

Slowly, she opened the door and popped her head in. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” I started sitting up, but she shook her head and slipped in next to me, using a hand on my chest to keep me laying down as she set her glasses on the bedside table. I couldn’t breathe as she curled up next to me, resting her head on my shoulder. Sometimes we had to share a bed on a hunt, but I was always too exhausted and ended up falling asleep almost instantly.

Never before had Y/N come in to share my bed in the bunker. And never had I been next to her when I was only in my boxers. This seemed like a recipe for disaster.

“Date didn’t go well, I take it?” I needed to figure out why she was in here before I started overthinking everything.

“No,” she mumbled. “He was a giant douche and way too handsy.”

“Handsy?” Pushing up on my elbow, I looked over her in concern. “Did he do—”

“Dean, it’s okay.” She pushed me back down and resettled herself against me. “I can handle myself. I didn’t let him cross too many lines. But I just need someone who isn’t gross and slimy to hold me for a few minutes and make me forget where his hands tried to go.”

If Y/N wasn’t cuddled up in my side, I probably would have peeled out of the garage in Baby and tracked down the creep she’d gone on the date with to give him a piece of my mind with my fists.

“You sure you’re okay? I can go teach him a lesson if you want.”

Her soft, carefree laugh calmed some of my nerves. “Maybe tomorrow. I promise I’m good, though. You know I’m not the kind of girl who lets anyone walk all over me.”

“I know, sweetheart.” I finally managed to relax and push her creepy date from my mind, choosing instead to focus on her warm body next to mine. “That’s one of the things I love most about you.”

Shit.

Besides a slight hitch in her breathing, she didn’t respond to my slip. It just hung in the air above us and I hoped to God that she interpreted it as a friendly kind of love. She might be good at brushing things off, but I wasn’t sure if even she would be able to brush off any kind of declaration of love like that.

“Hey, Dean?” she whispered a few minutes later. I made a noise of acknowledgement and she continued. “Remember earlier tonight when we were talking about dresses?”

“Yeah.”

“And I told you that I bought a dress for a specific guy who didn’t like me like that and you called him an idiot?”

“You heard that?” I thought she’d been sucked back into her puzzle zone.

Her head moved against my shoulder in what I assumed to be a nod. “Did you mean it? That he’s an idiot to turn me down?”

I shifted slightly to be able to look down at her, but still have my arms securely around her. Her hair was spread across my shoulder, and there was a hole in the old shirt she’d thrown on after her date. She was perfect. “Yeah. I meant it.”

Her eyes held mine for half a minute before she looked away briefly and drew in a quick breath. “It was you.”

“What?” I couldn’t have heard her right.

“I had you in mind when I picked out the dress, Dean.” Her eyes darted up to mine for a second. “I don’t want to make things weird between us, but I just—”

“Go put it on.” Shit, was I dreaming?

“What?” Now it was her turn to be taken aback.

Propping myself up on my elbow, I reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Go put on the dress. We were talking about how girls buy dresses so someone else can take it off of them. I can’t take the dress off of you if you aren’t wearing it, sweetheart.”

“Are you—are you sure?”

“How long have you had the dress?”

Apparently she hadn’t imagined the conversation going this direction, because she was scrambling to keep up. I gave her all the time she needed to wrap her head around this change, but I didn’t move back to give her the space. If she was saying what I thought she was, I was going to grab ahold of this chance and not let go.

“Uh, two months.”

She’d wanted me for at least two months. “Shit, sweetheart. I’ve been trying to keep my hands to myself for weeks. Go put on that dress.”

Her eyes never moved from mine as she finished thinking through the situation. A small, hesitant smile played around the corners of her lips. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

I watched her leave, staring at the door as she closed it behind her. Fuck, was this really happening? I sat on the edge of my bed, hoping and praying that I wasn't dreaming. Even if she wasn't coming back in the dress, I knew for sure that she had still come into my room for comfort after her shitty date. I knew for sure that she had chosen me over Sammy to hold her and make her forget about her slimy dates hands all over her.

That had to mean something.

A few minutes later, she knocked lightly on my door. My feet took me over to open it in a daze. She quickly slipped in and closed the door behind her as I just stared.

She was wearing a tight red dress that had one of those low necklines that ended close to her waist, leaving very little to the imagination.

"There are, uh, I bought heels to go with it. But since we're not actually going out, I figured..."

"Next time," I finally found my low, scratchy voice. Next time she would be in nothing but those heels. "Fuck, Y/N. You're—Jesus Christ." How could I possibly string together enough words to tell her just how fucking delicious she looked?

"Pretty sure I'm not Jesus Christ," she joked, glancing away and running her hand through her hair.

Definitely not, with all of the sinful things my head was coming up with.

"You're so fucking gorgeous." My legs finally remembered how to move and I slowly prowled over to her. The dress was soft under my hands as my fingers travelled from her shoulders to her hips. A low sigh escaped her lips at my touch and went directly to my dick. Shit, if that little sound had that much effect on me, I couldn't wait to hear her moaning and screaming my name.

"You really bought this dress for me?"

Her eyes snapped to mine and softened with a hesitant smile. "All for you, Dean."

Self-control: gone in an instant. My hands on her hips pulled her into my body and I finally kissed her like I'd been wanting to for weeks. She stretched up on her toes and one hand reached around to tug on my hair. Her touch made my entire body burn up and I moaned, pressing her back into the door.

"Fuck, Dean," she said, already out of breath. Her other hand wrapped around my wrist and dragged my hand up her stomach to stop on her hot skin between her breasts. "Dean, I need you to touch me. Please. I need to—I need to feel you."

Hearing her beg flipped a switch in me. This was really happening. We were really going to sleep together. She really wanted me.

"Is that so, sweetheart?" My sweet, quiet, independent Y/N was begging me to touch her. To make her feel good. She bought a sexy dress with the fantasy of me taking it off of her. And here she was, right in front of me.

Rather than sliding my fingers under her dress, as she obviously wanted me to, I began a leisurely journey up to her throat. She mewled in opposition and tried pulling my hand back down, but I used my other hand to pull her fingers off my wrist and hold her hand against the wall above her head.

"Dean," she complained quietly, no real objection behind it.

I slid my thigh between her legs to give her a slight release and smiled darkly down at her. "Sweetheart, I'm gonna make you feel so good. Gonna make you forget all about your slimy date tonight." She ground down on my thigh and I had to bit my lip to hold back a groan as her hand on the back of my neck tightened its hold. "Gonna give you everything you need. But you gotta trust me."

Her moan when my fingers landed on her throat nearly undid me. Jesus, the things this woman did to me. I squeezed the sides of her throat gently, testing her limits. Just the sight of my fingers wrapped around her throat, inches from her parted lips was enough to put my self-control on the edge of a cliff. And judging by the way she ground onto my thigh, soaking through my boxers, she was just as insanely turned on as I was.

"I do, Dean. I trust you."

Shit. Hearing her say that made me surge forward and capture her lips in a searing kiss. I'd never heard anything more beautiful in my life.

"You said you bought this dress so I could take it off of you?" I growled in her ear once I got myself under control again. The hand that was at her throat moved under the fabric on her shoulder, slowly starting to slide it off.

"Yes, Dean."

Was I going to have to fight the urge to kiss her every damn time she said my name tonight?

The fabric slid off her shoulder and she removed the hand on the back of my neck to slide her arm completely free of the fabric until it hung around her waist, one half of her body completely bare to me. My eyes travelled hungrily over her shoulder and collar bone down to her perfect breast. I couldn't wait to get my mouth on that later, but I had a game plan to follow, and it involved making her squirm and beg first. I was going to take my time.

My breath caught in my throat when, instead of placing her hand back on my neck, she raised her arm above her head, laying her wrist on the wall above her head, right next to where my hand was holding her other one. She was completely submitting to me. Her desire-filled eyes drilled into mine and she repeated her words from earlier. "All for you, Dean."

This time, though, she wasn't talking about the dress.

"Shit, Y/N," I groaned, gathering her other wrist in my hand as well. "I'm all yours too."

"Show me," she lifted her chin in a challenge.

Challenge accepted.

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