#to the point where we can feel the guest bed Vibrate. it's not fun

[euclydya]

see as Much as I'd like to take a nap right now. I don't think we can do that

[frostedfaves]

Just Like Magic

Masterlist

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Yelena invites her new best friend to hang out and ends up having to share. (Combined requests from @emilyprentissslut and anon)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dark!milf!wandanat with younger (21+) reader, dom/sub dynamics and mommy kink, a bit of manipulation/coercion, smut: oral, penetration, bondage, slight edging, nipple sucking

A/N: this took forever to write and I was going to post it where I last left off, but as long as I took with this, I wanted it to have somewhat of a proper ending. although I did leave off in a way that I could add onto this if I decide to later! anyway, can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

-

“You finally made it.”

The blonde girl offers you a sarcastic smile as you pass her on the threshold, your eyes wandering for a moment while she locks the door behind you.

“I told you that I couldn’t come over until 2.”

“As if you have anything more interesting going on.”

Yelena grabs your arm and leads you into the kitchen, giving you a playful shove toward the island as she continues to the refrigerator. You hop onto one of the stools, placing your bag on the floor beside you just in time to catch the bottle of water tossed directly at your face.

“I see your reflexes are still working,” she teases as another voice cuts in.

“That’s no way to treat your guests, Lena.”

The taunting grin on your best friend’s lips shifts to a scowl as two women come into view. Their eyes seem to be glued to your form, one pair holding a welcoming gaze and the other an air of indifference. Yelena gives them your name and identifies the pair as Natasha and Wanda, and Natasha steps closer to you with her hand outstretched.

“Don’t listen to our little dorogoya.” Natasha nods toward the younger blonde with a teasing smirk. “We’re her mothers.”

“That’s not technically true,” Wanda clarifies over Yelena’s incoming protests. “We do love her like we created her ourselves--”

“But mentors would be a more accurate ‘M’ word,” Yelena adds, pushing past the pair to grab your bag from the floor. “Let’s go before they say something else that makes me gag.”

“It was nice meeting you!”

Your words are rushed as you scramble out of the kitchen, trying to avoid staring at Natasha while she subtly unzips her hoodie. Her hand releases the zipper once you’re out of sight, but Wanda grabs it to finish the job.

“You’re a tease,” she comments while raising her tank top, and Natasha places her hands on her cheeks with a smile.

“Tell me what she’s thinking.”

“She’s definitely interested, but she needs more.” Wanda lowers her head and touches her lips to one of Natasha’s exposed nipples. “I think I need more, too.”

Natasha bites her lip and threads her fingers through her lover’s hair to pull her flush against her chest.

“Then take it.”

-

“Wait!” you call out before Yelena can throw the ball again. “Where's the bathroom? I have to pee.”

“You Americans and your weak bladders.” She rolls her eyes playfully as she plops on the ground to take a seat. “It’s the last door on the left.”

You enter the house again through the sliding door of the kitchen, passing through the room to the hallway. The bathroom is easy to locate and you’re in and out pretty quickly, but soft musical notes floating through the crack of a door stop you before you can make your way back outside. Opening the door further reveals a staircase heading toward what you assume is the basement, and before you have time to form doubts, you find yourself descending.

The music guides you to another cracked door, and you freeze in your movements when you notice Natasha and Wanda in the far corner of the room. Making sure you’re still out of sight, you take a look around the parts of the room you can see from the doorway, and it doesn’t take long to figure out what the space is for. There are various ropes, chains and ball gags hanging along the walls, and shelves hold harnesses, vibrators and dildos of all sizes.

“Flavored lube?” Wanda eyes the bottle curiously as she takes it from Natasha.

“Yeah, I figured it would be fun to try.”

“As if you don’t taste amazing enough on your own,” Wanda places her hand on Natasha’s chest, causing her to chuckle.

“It’s not for us, love.” Natasha raises her brow, and her wife seems to have a look of realization.

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

“I don’t think she’ll mind a little help getting this inside of her.”

You nearly give away your position with a gasp when the red haired woman holds up a harness with a protruding length that seems almost as big as her forearm. Deciding you’ve seen way more than you were meant to, you head back upstairs as quickly and silently as you can, trying your best to ignore your wandering thoughts as you join Yelena again.

“What took you so long?” she scowls as she jumps to her feet again. “You were staring at that ugly painting on the wall, weren’t you?”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” you argue, turning your back to grab your water and give yourself extra time to catch your breath.

“If you keep chugging that, you’ll have to pee again.” You hear her laugh before you feel the ball lightly hit your back. “But I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You had yet to discover if she was right or not.

-

“Dinner was amazing. Thank you, Miss Maximoff,” you address Wanda as she collects everyone’s plates, not quite meeting hers or Natasha’s eyes until she stops in front of you.

“You can call me Wanda, honey. I don’t mind at all.” She offers you a sweet smile before looking past you toward Yelena. “Lena, do you mind helping me clean up? I need to show you something anyway.”

Yelena opens her mouth, fully prepared to make a comment about Wanda being able to handle the whole house with a simple flick of her wrist but a pointed look from Natasha stops her.

“Sure.”

You watch her grab everyone’s glasses and follow Wanda into the kitchen, and you release a quiet yelp when you feel Natasha grab your chin a moment later. Your eyes widen when you realize just how quickly she traveled to your side of the table from her chair, and you feel nerves settling in as her eyes study your form.

“You’re a gorgeous little thing, aren’t you?” 

The longer you stare at her, the calmer you feel as the desire to push her away leaves your body. She moves her thumb and presses against your lips forcefully until you part them, her smile widening as she begins rubbing along your tongue and your lips close around her.

“That’s it, such a good girl for me. Do you think you can behave like this for Wanda, too?”

“I would hope so.” Wanda’s voice fills the room again as she reenters, placing one hand on your neck as she lightly kisses the other side, just below your ear. “You wouldn’t want to be punished before you’ve even had a chance to be rewarded, would you?”

“No, Wanda,” you answer the best you can around Natasha’s thumb, and her grip on your neck tightens.

“You call us Mommy now.”

“Yes, Mommy.”

“Perfect, printsessa,” Natasha praises as she pulls her hand away, Wanda also stepping back as she pulls you to your feet. “Now why don’t you lead us downstairs? I believe you already know where to go.”

“You knew I was there?” you ask timidly and Wanda laughs.

“Why do you think you went down there in the first place?”

Natasha grabs your shoulders and turns you around, giving you a light shove toward the hallway. You cautiously lead the two women toward the basement door, glancing into the kitchen and feeling a knot growing in your stomach when you don’t see Yelena at all.

The door is locked behind you once you reach the intimidating room again, and you��re pushed onto a bed before each woman grabs one of your hands and chains you to the wall. Wanda straddles you and kisses you eagerly, moving her hips to grind her covered pussy against yours. Vibrations pass between the two of you as you moan into each other’s mouths until she pulls away and stands on the mattress to take off her panties.

“You think you can make Mommy cum like this?” She challenges while lifting her dress and lowering herself to sit on your face, a quiet moan escaping when you press your tongue against her clit in response. “Good fucking girl.”

“What about while your other Mommy fucks you?”

You can feel Natasha removing your pants and underwear, bending your legs at the knee as she joins the two of you on the bed and hooks her arms around them. You can already feel yourself clenching a bit in preparation for what you know is coming, and a muffled moan escapes you when she runs the tip of her tongue along your folds.

“What does she taste like?” Wanda cries out to her lover while you suck on her clit desperately, and Natasha pulls away just long enough to answer.

“Like she was worth waiting five months for.”

Wanda continues to ride your face, forcing herself to keep going past her orgasm while Natasha teases you relentlessly with her tongue. Just when you think she might let you cum, she pulls away abruptly, leaving you whining into Wanda’s pussy and grinding against nothing.

“Patience, printessa,” she scolds you from across the room. “You don’t get to have things simply because you want them.”

You jump and let out a sound that’s a cross between a yelp and a moan when her hand smacks your sensitive clit, gasping when the slap is followed by the head of a dildo running through your folds toward your entrance. Bucking your hips toward it causes it to slip inside you a bit, and Natasha groans at the sight.

“Look at my pretty pussy so eager to take me.”

She takes her time easing half of the length into you as you clench around it occasionally, thrusting gently for a bit and then roughly pounding her way in until her hips are nearly meeting yours with every powerful stroke. If Wanda wasn’t keeping you muffled, you’d be screaming right now. From pain or pleasure, you couldn’t tell the difference anymore, you just knew something inside you felt amazing.

“Whatever you’re doing to her, Tash, please don’t stop,” Wanda calls over her shoulder through gritted teeth in between groans. “She’s fucking killing me right now in the best way possible.”

“Don’t worry...” Natasha roughly tugs your waist to bring you closer and Wanda scrambles to balance herself on the mattress as she continues to ride your face. “You know I don’t plan on letting her go anytime soon.”

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

ONE BOTTLE TO BLAME

Prompt: Requested, by the lovely @jazzy-bella02 (I’m sorry this took me so long to post it, but I hope you’ll like it and thank you so much for being patient with me, honey 😘)

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Jon Moxley x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, dom x sub dynamic, oral sex (male and female receiving / 69), dirty talk, name calling (aka degradation), kinda fluff (at the end), slight angst, breath play (asphyxiation kink)

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @marlananicole , @bellalutionn , @sassymox , @yungbludjazz360

Notes: I just want to put this out there (before it turns into a fucking commotion): I have NOTHING against Renee , ok? I think she’s pretty awesome tbh and this is for plot purposes only! Please be reminded that this is a FICTIONAL STORY, not real life!(*This is only addressed to those who aren’t mature enough to understand that difference). If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😉

“Alright, Y/N it’s your turn” Darby said

“Again?” I whined

“C’mon, don’t be such a party pooper! Pretty please?” He begged, dramatically batting his lashes

I spun the bottle and to my surprise it landed on landed on Jon Moxley, the man I desperately had a crush on, but refused to admit it out loud

“I don’t want to play this anymore, thanks” I mumbled

“Don’t be so childish, Y/N. What’s the worst thing he can do?” Darby laughed, looking at Mox who smiled back

“She said she doesn't want to” Renee stated bitterly

“Leave her alone, she will play” Mox said to her as he looked at me

“That’s my man!” Darby patted his back “So, Y/N, what do you choose: the kiss or the question?” He asked

“The question” *I’ll be damned if I ever choose the first option* I thought bitterly

“Mox, go ahead” Darby grinned

“Hmm” Jon pretended to debate what to ask “Who in this circle would you really want to kiss, and why?” He smirked

*How does he know?* I thought to myself- and then while looking at Darby, realization hit me. I could see the fucker trying to hide a smile behind his cup. *Darby told him! Ooh I’m gonna kill you Darby!*

“I - ummm...Darby” I said quickly

“Darby?” Mox looked at me in disbelief, and I nodded

“Why?” He teased

“Because...I think he’s cute” I lied, oh so poorly

“Right” He chuckled “Of course you do”

“Alright Mox, it’s your turn” Darby cackled

Jon spun the bottle and to our surprise it landed on me, again!

*Oh God, this must be a joke* I thought

“What’s your choice: question or kiss?” The blonde man asked him

“Kiss” Those piercing blue eyes stared at me

“I don’t think this is fair, she just answered your question! Jon, spin the bottle again, please” Renee said

“He can’t do that! It stopped on Y/N, so she and Jon will play. It’s their turn” Darby spat

“It’s not fair-”

“Why? Because it didn’t stop on you?” Mox scoffed

She shot him a look that well, if looks could kill, he’d be a pile of ash, before saying “You’re not going to kiss her”

“Oh really?” He chuckled “And who’s gonna stop me? You? Please, Renee, don’t make me laugh”

“You have no right-” She began

“YOU have no right! We’re not together anymore, I can do whatever I want with whoever I want and that’s none of your damn business! What the fuck are you even doing here anyways? I didn’t invite you, Y/N didn’t invite you, nobody on this roster invited you. Just fuck off!”

“Don’t talk to me like that” She pretended to be upset

“Don’t fucking try me then!” He replied, almost screaming at this point

Renee stood up and quickly made her exit out the front door, with a heavy silence settling in as she left.

“So, where were we?” Jon suddenly asked “Oh yeah! My kiss” He looked at me and grinned

Darby laughed “C’mon Y/N, you know the rules”

Rolling my eyes I crawled towards him, and when I was close enough, he whispered quietly so only I could hear

“Yes baby, crawl to me”

Noticing my nervousness, he pointed to his cheek and I felt so relieved that I wouldn’t have to kiss him in front of everyone

I leaned forward to his cheek, and once I was close enough, he turned his head around and connected our lips in a loud smooch

I had never felt a greater urge to bury my face in the sand like I did in that moment.

“Hmmm, vanilla?” He asked, clearly referring to my chapstick flavor

“I like the taste, kitten” He said, licking his lips

And so the game went on, every time the cursed bottle landed on Jon and I he asked me questions that got more personal (or invasive) each time: ‘What was my favorite sex position?’, ‘The craziest place I’ve ever had sex?’, ‘Did I own a vibrator?’, ‘How often did I use it?’, ‘Did I like it rough?’, ‘Have I ever tried BDSM?’, ‘Was I a sub?’.

And before he could ask me any more questions, I leaned towards Darby and said I was going to one of his guest bedrooms. When he asked why, I simply lied, saying I wasn’t feeling very well. He nodded and I finally left that damned room and stupid game, leaving Jon Moxley behind me…

Or at least I thought so!

When I opened the guest bedroom door, there he was, sitting down at the foot of the bed, smirking at me

“Thought you could run away from me, little mouse?” He chuckled at my surprised face

“Unfortunately for you, it’s not that easy to fool me, sweetheart” He took slow, predatory steps towards me “You didn’t answer my last question, doll” He pushed my body against the door, making it close, he then proceeded to lock it as well

“What question?”

“Are you a sub?” He whispered to me

I gulped “I-I enjoy power play”

Jon smiled widely “I thought so” He leaned forward, deeply inhaling the bamboo scent of my conditioner “Everything about you screams submissive, the essence practically radiates from your soul” He looked into my eyes

“Do you have a boyfriend?” I shook my head

“Sex partner?” I shook my head once more

“Do you have a Dom, kitty kat?” He asked, softly running his fingers through my hair

“No” I panted

“Do you want one?” He smirked

“Yes, please, sir?”

Jon grinned, and the soft motions from his fingers were quickly replaced by a forceful grip

“You wanna have some fun, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir”

“You gonna be my good little slut?”

“Yes, sir”

“Gonna make my cock feel real good?”

“Yes, sir”

“Is that pussy going to belong to me when we’re done?”

“All yours, sir”

He smiled “Are you going to be my favorite whore of all time?”

“I hope so, sir”

One of his hands quickly wrapped around my neck, applying just enough pressure to make me feel slightly lightheaded

“Does this pretty little slut know how to suck a cock?”

I nodded

“Let’s see about that” He smirked “Take your clothes off”

When we were both naked, Jon laid down on the bed

“Come here, kitten” He cooed “Sit on my face and show me how good that mouth of yours can be”

I obliged and as soon as my core was close enough to his face, he wasted no time in devouring me

It all felt so good that I needed something in my mouth, to muffle my loud moans, so I leaned forward and began to suck him off. Thanks to the position I was in, I had the advantage of sliding him further down, without having to worry about my gag reflex.

Jon moaned around my clit, as he put two fingers in. The vibrations his humming was causing me were heavenly

“Fuck, feels so fucking good!” He said and slapped my ass “Y/N, I’m going to need you to cum right now” He said, slightly out of breath

“Yes, sir” I answered, with a string of spit still connecting me to his cock’s head

His sucking became harder and the pace of his fingers became rougher, and before I could realize it, my walls were pulsing around his fingers.

When I was down from my high, Jon quickly pinned me down on the mattress and placed himself behind me

“You sure can suck a dick” He chuckled on my ear “But how well can you take a cock, kitty cat?”

“Very well, sir”

“Oh” He laughed “That’s bold! I have high expectations now! You’re not going to disappoint me, are you Y/N?”

“No, sir”

“You better not” He teased, as he slowly entered me

“So fucking wet” He said, and I could hear the smile in his voice

“Who made you this wet, baby?”

“You did, sir. You always do” I confessed

“Always? So you had thought about this before?”

“Every night, sir”

“And what do you do when those thoughts come to your mind, Y/N?” He increased his pace

“I touch myself and think about you, sir”

Jon growled “I would like to see that! Do you use your vibrator?”

“Yes, sir”

“Does it make you feel good, kitten?” He whispered

“Not as good as you do, sir”

“Great answer, sweetheart” He cackled

Placing his forearm on the back of my neck to keep me in place, Jon’s thrusting pace became almost too rough, but I was loving every second of it

“My good little whore loves cock, doesn’t she?”

I answered a muffled ‘yes, sir’

“Of course she does! Look how well she’s taking me”

“Am I stretching you good enough, baby?”

“Yes, sir”

“You’re gonna cum for me?” He asked, when he felt my walls my walls clenching tighter around him

I only moaned in response

“Cum, Y/N. Right now!”

My body followed his order, releasing it all over his length

Jon quickly pulled out, and his hot cum landed on my ass

He cleaned both of us up with a warm damp towel. Laying down by my side, he pulled me up until my head rested on his chest. That was when he placed one finger underneath my chin and tilted my head up, so he could kiss my lips in such a sweet and delicate way that made me giggle softly

“What?” He asked, with a sweet smile on his lips

“I’m sorry, the switch in you made me giggle” I laughed softly

“What change?”

“You just kissed me so softly, but were fucking me mercilessly and calling me a good little slut mere minutes before that”

“I can be soft too, you know?” He blushed a little

“Awww, you’re so sweet” I pecked his lips “But I love the rough you as well, don’t worry” I winked

“Good, because I’m a man of my word and” He shifted on the bed so he could lay down on his side “That pussy is now mine...all mine!” He growled, in a teasing way

“Yes, sir” I joked

“Wanna grab some burgers when we wake up?” He asked, pulling me closer to him and resting his forehead on mine

“I’d love to”

I smiled, falling asleep minutes after Jon’s soft snoring sounds filled up the bedroom...

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[starbornvalkyrie]

the gift [an elucien one shot]

a/n: hellooooo friends. this lil number here was born of a morning discussion about pegging with @vanserrasvalkyrie​ @oversizedbats​ @vmiae​ @ladyvanserra​ @illyrianvalkyrie​ @booksandlewks​ @arielle-reads​ and @nina-zcnik​. you know, normal things. don’t worry, there are no acosf spoilers! this is pure filth, so i hope y’all like it lol enjoy!

content warning: hella explicit sexual content. obviously.

Celebrating Winter Solstice at Feyre and Rhysand’s riverside estate has been tradition for as long as Elain could remember. Ever since it was built, they celebrated here. Even after she officially moved to the Spring Court with Lucien on the other side of Prythian, she still came back to celebrate with her sisters and their growing families.

It was hard at first, being so far away from them. She missed them terribly, but at least she knew she could see them whenever she wanted. She’s been so happy being close to her sisters again, especially knowing that they’ll have centuries to grow together.

These last few weeks, however, didn’t leave her with much time to miss them. Ever since her mating ceremony to Lucien, they haven’t spent much time outside their manor, let alone their bedroom. Almost a month later, and Elain is still itching for gifts to be exchanged and dinner to be eaten, so that she can take her mate to bed. 

From where she sat alone on the bay window, Elain felt a tug on the bond deep in her heart, and immediately sought her mate out in the crowded sitting room of Feyre’s home. He had just moved to the bar cart to refill his drink, a reprieve from whatever conversation he had been having with Cassian about the latest Illyrian training regiment. Elain rarely knew a word coming from the Illyrian’s mouth. Most of the time she only smiles and nods until she’s able to step away politely. A quick scan of the room showed her that Cassian had returned to Nesta’s side.

Returning her attention to Lucien, her blush deepened when she caught his eye, a knowing smirk gracing his lips. He knows what she has been fantasizing about from the moment they left the comfort of their bed in the guest wing. She merely cocked her head to the side. The picture of feigned innocence. Lucien narrowed his eyes as though to say, Challenge accepted. He crossed his arms and brought a hand to his chin. An innocent gesture until he flicked his tongue against the pad of his thumb, pretending to wipe something away from his bottom lip.

Elain almost regretted forgoing her undergarments as she clenched her crossed legs tighter, knowing the action is futile in the presence of High Fae and skilled soldiers, but either her family is far too drunk already or have chosen to ignore the scent she’s sure to be releasing. No matter, she supposed. They all deserved it for their own newly-mated episodes. Elain felt Lucien’s chuckle and turned to glare at him before Mor exclaimed, “Rhys! Presents! Now!” Elain laughed as Rhysand rolled her eyes, grateful for the distraction from her own arousal.

With a wave of his hand, the presents appeared before the roaring fireplace. One by one, they were distributed, and Elain watched with a smile on her face. She was watching Nyx play with his new training dagger from Azriel when a present and a card appeared on her lap. She knew without looking up that it was her mate in front of her.

“I thought we weren’t exchanging gifts until later,” she accused, cheeks reddening once again as she remembered what they had promised.

Lucien sat down and effortlessly pulled her sideways onto his lap. “It’s not from me. It’s from my… father.” Elain looked into his russet eye, finding the emotion within that came from acknowledging Helion as his father. She cupped a hand to his face and gave him a quick kiss, just because she could. “I’m not sure where he ran off to, but he told me we need to open it together.” Needing no further explanation, Elain tore into the white and gold wrapping paper, as Lucien read the card to her. “For fun,” was all it said.

Together, they lifted the lid of the box. Elain gasped and Lucien choked as they beheld a variety of gadgets to use in the bedroom to play. There was every toy Elain could think of, but her attention snagged on one particular device. Her eyes traveled along the straps and buckles until they reached the attached appendage. She looked at her mate, his metal eye whirring. No doubt he knew exactly what she was thinking before she had to say it. “Can I…” She swallowed, her voice thick with arousal. “Would you be okay with this?”

Lucien licked his lips and whispered, “Do your worst, Flower.” Elain exhaled through her nostrils, imagining her mate on his knees in front of her, his face buried in the pillows and silks of their bed. She bit her lip and involuntarily rocked her hips on his hardening length. Lucien hissed and gripped her tighter by the waist. “We still need to eat dinner, my love.” He leaned in closer, his breath tickling her ear, “But my Solstice present to you is letting you do whatever you want to me tonight.”

Elain shot up from his lap, leaving him laughing behind her. She sought out Nuala and Cerridwen to see if they needed help completing dinner. They told her it would only be a few moments, but she helped them anyway.

Dinner was the usual, Nyx throwing food at his Uncle Cassian, Nesta scolding Cassian for throwing food back. Amren ignoring Mor’s bargain for her jewelry. Feyre and Rhys talking mind to mind as though they think no one knows they’re actually fucking in there at inappropriate times. Like at the dinner table. But Elain didn’t care because she kept stealing glances at Lucien, her mate staring at her right back.

As soon as they were done eating, Elain bid a quick farewell, pulling Lucien behind her. She ignored the cheering that came from Rhysand and Cassian. She was beyond caring at this point. That primal need to take her mate wherever and whenever was still strong. When they reached their room on the far end of the estate, Elain wasted no time pushing her mate against the door and claiming his mouth with hers.

Lucien’s gift to her was for her to take charge, and that was exactly what she planned to do. She reached between them to his belt, pulling it free without breaking the connection of their lips. She palmed him through his trousers, eliciting a groan from both of them. He was already hard, already ready for her.

Next came the buttons of his shirt. Elain began at the top, trailing kisses down his neck, lingering on the wild pulse beneath his skin. With each pop of a button, her lips moved lower and lower. She traced her tongue along the ridges of his chiseled abs. Elain straightened and removed his shirt before pulling him towards the bed.

The bed was already equipped with leather straps tied to the headboard, set up earlier when she excused herself to freshen up. Lucien looked from the bed to Elain, eyes wide with confusion--and need. Elain only pushed him to lay down on the bed and said, “Happy Solstice, Lucien.”

Once he was settled in the center of the bed, Elain straddled him, hissing as her bare center made contact with his chiseled abdomen, her dress pooling around her. As she made quick work of the straps around his wrists, Lucien growled, “Were you not wearing underwear all night, Elain?” He growled as she nodded in confirmation. “Take off your dress, love,” he commanded.

But Elain wasn't having that.

“Uh uh,” she tutted, lifting herself to her knees. “No talking.” She silenced him completely, gripping the headboard with one hand, her dress in the other so that she could sit on his face. Her mate didn’t hesitate, plunging his tongue deep into her molten core. Elain didn't bother suppressing her moans as he devoured her like a starved man. She rocked back and forth, the feel of his mouth on her igniting the fire in her veins.

Elain ground harder, chasing the release that was already so close after a night of teasing. Her mate must have known she was already on the precipice of falling because he sped up his ministrations.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she panted, “Make me come, Lucien, I need to come.” He made a long swipe of his tongue from her ass to her clit, nipping at her sensitive nub with his teeth. The pain mixed with pleasure sent her crashing over the edge. She screamed through her release, but Lucien’s tongue never stopped helping her ride the wave.

Breathing heavy, she climbed down and kissed him deeply, groaning as she tasted herself on his lips. Already, she was wanting more, aching to be filled. She adjusted her hips until she felt his rock hard length against her entrance. Supporting herself with her arms, she stared down into her mate’s russet eye as she sank down, down, down, filling her completely with his cock. They both groaned in pleasure, the bond between them lit with the wanton need for each other.

Seeing his eye filled with molten desire only for her, Elain couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss him again as she moved her hips up and down, faster and faster. Every slip in and out of her molten channel elicited wanton noises from her throat. “Elain, fuck,” he breathed as she used her inner muscles to clench tight around his cock.

She sat up again, bracing herself with his hands on his solid chest. Despite his hands being tied, Lucien still bent his knees to pound up into her, meeting her thrust for thrust. She cried out when he hit that particular spot that had never been hit before she found her mate. Without breaking rhythm, she finally shed her dress, throwing it haphazardly to the floor.

Lucien’s metal eye whirred, taking in every detail of her perfect, cream skin. Elain reached over to their new box of goodies and returned with a small device that vibrated in her hand. Her lips curled into a mischievous smile as she brought the toy to where they were still joined, still moving. She could hardly describe the sensation that came when the vibrations made contact with her clit, her screams filling the room as her body tensed with her release. “Elain!” Lucien roared as he followed her into the abyss, filling her with his seed. Lucien struggled against his bonds, squirming against Elain as she held that vibrating device between them until she could no longer handle it.

Elain collapsed next to Lucien, breathing hard and groaning at the emptiness she felt. “That was…” she trailed off.

“Amazing,” her mate finished for her, breathing just as heavily.

Elain propped herself up on an elbow and leaned forward to claim Lucien’s lips with her own. Through their kiss, she could feel all the love he felt for her and channeled it right back. His tongue demanded entrance and she happily obliged, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss. They were a clash of tongues and teeth until Elain reached up and undid the straps restraining her mate.

But before he could grab her and pull her close like he so desperately wanted, she grabbed his wrists and whispered, “Did you think I was done with you already?” Without waiting for a response she climbed off the bed, commanding him to get on his hands on his knees. He raised his brow at her, but listened. He moved slowly, she noticed with no small amount of pleasure.

She felt powerful, taking what she wanted from him. They are equals in every way, including in their bed, but the feeling of being in control of each move has caused her to be aroused all over again. Elain reached for the box from Helion, feeling Lucien watching her as she lifted that contraption of straps and buckles. She made quick work of securing it to her waist before climbing behind her mate on the bed.

Using a tube of lubricant she found in the box, she lathered the rubber length, and then used her finger to tease Lucien’s rear end. He stiffened at first, but didn’t pull away as she inched the tip of her finger in. Lucien moaned, and Elain told him, “Let me know if this is too much, okay?” Lucien nodded and pushed back on her fingers. After pumping one in a few times, she added a second--and then a third. “Are you ready?” she asked, removing her fingers.

Lucien lifted up on his arms and looked over his shoulder at Elain as she lined himself up to his back entrance. She made eye contact with him, waiting for him to give permission. She may be in charge here, but she wasn’t going to go any farther if he didn’t want to.

But her mate, her wonderful, sexy mate said, “Fuck me, Elain.” And so she did.

Guiding herself in, she went slowly at first, stopping when Lucien dropped to his elbows when his ass snapped around the head of rubber. He was panting, so she stayed still, searing this image of her mate on his knees before her into her mind. After a few seconds, Lucien adjusted and pushed back, urging her on.

She pushed in more, more, more until she was buried all the way to the hilt in her mate’s fine ass. “How does it feel?” she asked.

“Full,” he laughed, then moaned from the movement. “But… I think I like it.” He looked over his shoulder and repeated his words from before. “Do your worst, flower.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She pulled out almost all the way and pushed back in, faster this time, again and again until she found a pounding rhythm. Her earlier vision came to life as Lucien yelled into the pillows, clenching the soft sheets in his fists.

Powerful--this was power. She gripped her mate’s hips and increased her speed, snapping her hips against his. Elain leaned forward and pressed kisses to his spine, the way he likes to do to her. In this position, she formed a wicked idea in her head and reached around his body. Finding his cock, unsurprised to discover it’s hard again, she worked him with her hand as she fucked him from behind.

Lucien’s screams intensified as he approached his impending orgasm. She grabbed a fistful of his red hair, forcing his back to bend. “Do you want to come, my love?” He grunted in response, but she said, “I need to hear you say it.”

Lucien turned his head to the side against her grip, panting, “Please, Elain. I need to come.” He locked eyes with her, his pupil dilated further than she’s ever seen. “Please.”

Satisfied, Elain cupped his balls and squeezed before stroking him again in time with her thrusts. In no time, she felt Lucien’s body seized beneath her, spilling his seed onto the sheets with a groan. She milked his cock with her hand until she was finished and pulled out, eliciting a strained moan from her mate. She let go of his hair so that he could until he could collapse on his stomach, careful to avoid the puddle of fluid left behind.

Quickly removing the strapped contraption, Elain joined her mate on the bed, happily falling into his outstretched arms. She peppered his face with kisses to coax him down from his high. Eventually, he opened his eyes, the metal whirring as his brain tried to function once more.

“Good?” she asked demurely.

“We’re doing that again,” he growled.

And two more times that night, they did. When they were finally satiated for the time being, Elain fell asleep in her mate’s arms as he whispered, “I love you,” against her hair.

---

Thanks for reading! If you’d like to be added to/taken off my general SJM tag list just send me an ask and be sure to include the fandom! i’m very good at losing them in the comments. love y’all! *bold tags didn’t work*

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[ahkaahshi]

exploration [sakusa kiyoomi x reader]

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x fem reader

genre: smut (18+)

warning(s): explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, light degradation, dirty talk, mean-ish?? then nice dom sakusa, rough sex, orgasm denial, being stimulated in public, swearing

word count: 2.9k

overview: you wanna try new things. some of them work and some of them don’t, but it’s all a learning experience.

notes: yall my heart just went 🥺 soft sakusa 🥺 yet again (I'm rlly weak for him obviously I have no issue admitting it) but I wanted to give him a lil edge too ya feel? I rlly banged this out with my last two braincells so I hope you enjoy :)

As you wander around the large, open space in the elegant, modern art museum, heels clicking against the cold, concrete floor, your (e/c) eyes drift from one painting to the next. The steady, gentle rhythm of some, ethereal lounge music echoes around the room just under the hum of conversations taking place nearby. Though they’re speaking of things mostly foreign to you, since they’re members of a much higher society than that in which you live, you can’t help but find yourself somewhat entertained by the gossip you hear circulating amongst the women as they chat over a few too many cocktails.

Spending the evening perusing expensive artwork in such a luxurious venue, wearing a dress you hope looks fancy enough while you rub shoulders with the elite is definitely not a normal occasion in your day to day life. However, with your boyfriend’s constantly climbing popularity as a professional athlete, his name was starting to show up on more of the guest lists to exclusive events such as this exclusive art showcase you find yourself at now. While it’s interesting--to an extent--you do find yourself growing bored from time to time. Earlier, your beloved’s teammates had been around to entertain you, but they’d since left to help themselves to the open bar.

Not even moments after you let out a soft sigh and readjust the strap of your dress on your shoulder, you feel a familiar vibration emanate from deep inside of you. The intensity and location of the sensation make one hand fly to your mouth to stifle a small squeal that escapes your throat while the other grips the chiffon of your dress’s skirt. Turning away from the few gazes that have fastened on you at your reaction to what seems like absolutely nothing, you look through the doorway into the next room to see your boyfriend watching you with rapt attention.

His hand is buried in the pocket of his sleek, black trousers, thumb resting atop the button of the remote he’s using to make the vibrator nestled inside of you jump to life. With the way he’s been using your desire to do more exploration in terms of kinks and sexual fantasies to keep you on the brink of an orgasm all night long, you’re starting to regret suggesting the idea of a bullet vibrator earlier today. By this point, your panties are uncomfortably wet and you’re on the verge of getting on your knees in front of the event’s other patrons and begging him to fuck you.

You’ve been holding yourself together the entire evening, even keeping your drink from spilling when he decided to turn it on right as the bartender handed it off to you, but you’ve had enough now. You figure you’ve been good enough for him to reward you, since you haven’t complained once or let on to the dirty game the two of you were playing to see who caved first and asked to go home. You don’t mind letting him win this round, since you know you’ll get what you want either way.

As nonchalantly as you can when your core is abuzz with stimulation and your stomach is clenching from the sensation, you make quick strides across the room to where he’s standing. He seems to sense what you’re about to ask him, so he turns off the vibrator and places his hand on the small of your back when you arrive at his side.

“Kiyoomi,” you whine softly, running your fingertips along the soft material of his crisp, button-up shirt he’s wearing beneath a suit jacket.

He raises a dark eyebrow at you and hums questioningly in response, waiting for you to admit defeat.

As much as you don’t want to say it, in this case, you’ll have to put your pride aside to get what you want. Reminding yourself that you’ll find a way to have your fun with him in return at a later point in time gives you some comfort as you move your head closer to his ear.

“Can we go home, baby?” you ask in a demure tone.

“Hmm? Why would you want to do that, (f/n)?” he wonders, his hand remaining annoyingly still where it rests against the back of your dress.

You refrain from letting out a sound of disapproval at his coy attitude, since you know anything you say can and will be held against you in the bedroom in this game you’re playing. Instead, you whisper, “So you can take this tiny, little thing out of me and stuff me with your big cock instead.”

That does it. His fingers grip your waist on their way to meet yours so he can interlace them and lead you back to the entrance of the museum. His teammates urge him to stay and have a few drinks with them, but he’s quick to wave them off and make a hasty exit.

When Bokuto tries to follow the two of you to persuade you to stay, Atsumu grabs his arm and puts his attempt to a halt by hissing, “The man's on a mission ta get fucked, dude. Let ‘im go.”

To that, the tall, white and black-haired man whistles lowly, nods, and heads back to the bar with his teammate for another shot.

You and Sakusa are quick to locate his car, and he unlocks it with a chirp so you can both slide into your respective seats. Before fastening your seatbelt, you lean over towards him to steal a few, long-awaited kisses from his lips that he returns with fervor, giving you a glimpse of the impatience that had apparently been dwelling within him all night long. When you run your hand over the bulge in his pants, though, he’s quick to retreat from your affection and stick his key in the ignition.

“Omi,” you cry softly, brows furrowing and lower lip protruding with dismay. With the way your core is on fire at the moment, you want nothing more than for him to at least give you some relief in the car. The fifteen minutes it’ll take for you to get home are going to be painstaking at this rate.

His dark eyes flick over to you, narrowed ever so slightly with irritation as he responds, “Being a brat isn’t going to get you what you want.” The two of you lock eyes for a long moment in a silent battle for dominance before you relent, sit back, and buckle in your seatbelt. “Good girl.”

Your body warms at the praise, and grows even hotter when he slides his hand over onto your thigh after reversing out of the parking spot and shifting back into drive. His focus doesn’t leave the street ahead as his fingers find the slit in your skirt and navigate the short stretch of skin between its peak and your valley. Instinctively, you grasp his wrist to guide him closer to your underwear, but he stops.

“Don’t touch me while I'm driving, princess,” is the firm command he utters that makes you release your grip, “You’ll distract me.”

Your fingers dig into the smooth, leather seats as you try your best to restrain yourself, but each stoplight you hit makes you squeeze your thighs together with impatience, trapping his hand between your supple skin. Since he can see how desperate you are, he prods at your clit through your soaked panties, eliciting a gentle moan from you. With the way you've been waiting for him to touch you all night, anything you can get from him feels amazing.

Though he’s being silent, he’s trying his best to contain himself at hearing the pretty sounds slipping out of your mouth and feeling how wet you are. He didn’t realize quite how worked up you were until now.

“Baby, I want more,” you utter after no more than just a few, short minutes of toying with your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He scoffs, “I’m not giving you more. Can't have my leather seats getting ruined by you making a mess when you cum, dirty girl.”

You clench around the slim vibrator at his words and groan when he withdraws his fingers from between your legs. Thankfully, you can see your neighborhood come into view, and he's parking outside your house before you know it. Anticipation sends another painful throb through your walls as you unbuckle your seatbelt, dart out of the car, and hurry towards the front door.

Sakusa seems to be in less of a rush, though, since he takes his time opening the door, removing his shoes, and loosening the tie around his throat. Your tugging at his arm to lead him towards the bedroom only earns you a warning glance, so you wait a few, painfully long seconds for him to finish what he’s doing. Your patience is quickly rewarded, though, when he guides you into the room, yanks down the zipper on your dress, and pushes you onto the bed.

His lips crash against yours as you sling your arms over his shoulders to bring his body down towards yours. Each of his kisses are deep, passionate, and add more fuel to the fire that’s been burning between your legs. Feeling needier than ever, you hastily undo the buttons on his shirt while he unclasps your bra and rids you of your panties in a flash. He swallows the loud moan you release when his fingers slide into your weeping pussy to retrieve the vibrator that’s been lodged inside of you the entire night.

Your hips buck against his fingers as they slide out of you, removing the small device and tossing it aside, so he allows you a sliver of relief by rubbing his fingers coated in your essence against your clit. He watches your expressions of pleasure and the way your muscles twitch as you chase the high you’ve been after all night. The sight of you with your face flushed and eyelids squeezed shut as your lips part to utter more delightful sounds of pleasure makes his erection throb painfully in his pants.

“You poor thing,” he coos, removing his fingers from between your legs, “So desperate to get fucked. Take my pants off and I'll let you cum on my cock since you’ve been a good girl all night, but not until I say so.”

In your hazy state of mind, you reach for his belt, unbuckle it, and set to work undoing his pants. He slides his shirt off before discarding his trousers and littering your neck with more kisses as he slowly inches closer to you. You exhale breathily when you feel him slide the head of his dick from your clit down to your entrance, teasing you by remaining just outside.

“Kiyoomi!” you complain in a moment of sexual frustration, “I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

To this he responds harshly, “Quit whining like a little brat or else I'll fuck your mouth instead so I don’t have to listen to you.”

He sees a look of shock pass over your features like a dark storm cloud drifting in front of the sun, and he worries for an instant that he’s overstepped a boundary. But, to his relief, you rest your head back against the soft covers and breathe, “I'm sorry, baby.”

“That’s my good girl,” he praises in a much gentler tone and places a peck against your sternum before lifting your hips up towards his.

A drawn-out moan spills out of your mouth as he pushes his cock inside of you, giving you the sensation of being full that you’ve so desperately been craving all evening. His gaze remains on yours, and you watch the subtle crinkle of his nose and twitch of the moles above his eyebrow that always accompany a low groan of satisfaction during moments like these. After he’s bottomed out, he allows you a moment to breathe before he begins thrusting into you rather roughly.

Any words you want to say you’re unable to form as he indulges your tight pussy, spreading your legs further with his hand so he can reach deeper and deeper inside you with each snap of his hips against yours. “Well?” he goads, his hot breath fanning across your neck and ear when he moves his head there so he can latch onto your tender skin with his teeth, “Let me hear you, baby. Now.”

You mewl loudly at the sensation of him sucking on your neck in combination with his cock hitting your cervix, sending small jolts of pleasure skittering across your skin like electricity. “Faster, please!” you manage to squeak as your hands move onto his back, fingertips pressing into his muscles, which ripple with every thrust inside of you. His skin feels unbearably hot against yours, causing beads of sweat to form on your bodies.

He obliges your request and picks up his pace until all you’re able to do is let your head roll back and moan unintelligible words while he attacks the sensitive skin on your throat. Every grunt he utters sends tingles down your spine, and you can hear his breathing become more labored whenever he starts succumbing to the satisfaction he’s reaping from being sheathed in your velvety walls while they clench deliciously around him.

Following a particularly rough thrust that nearly has you seeing stars, he mentions, “You were being so expressive about your desires earlier, princess, but you can’t even speak now? Nothing shuts you up quite like having my cock deep in your pussy, huh?” You nod in agreement, since you’re not able to form any coherent words as you rock your body against his.

After a few minutes, you feel the pressure you’ve been holding in your stomach all night long threaten to loosen up, and you whimper, since you’re right on the edge of the orgasm you’ve been waiting too long to experience. Sakusa notices the anguish etched into your features when he takes a pause from decorating your neck with love bites, and rubs your clit with precise movements, targeting your most sensitive spot.

“Cum for me like the good girl you are, princess.”

His husky command pushes you over the edge, and you cry out with ecstasy as you pull him closer to you and buck your hips against him feverishly. The feeling of your pussy pulsating around him bring him to his orgasm faster than expected, and a stream of curse words and praises fall from his mouth onto your ears. He knows you’re on birth control, so he finishes while nestled deep within your core, painting your walls with his release.

The sensation isn't one you’re used to feeling, since he often opts to pull out anyway, but you enjoy coming down from your high while he’s still inside you. Feeling that you’re still connected in the vulnerable moments that follow your sex sessions brings you a sense of comfort you didn’t know you’d been craving.

Once you’ve had some time to regain your breath, he withdraws from you and presses a gentle kiss against your lips. “How was that?” he asks as he lays down beside you and grabs a few tissues to clean up the fluids seeping out of you, onto the duvet.

“Great,” you hum softly, “I enjoyed it. How did it feel for you?”

A look of concern crosses his features as he discards the used tissues in a nearby trashcan. When he turns back to face you, he brushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes and comments, “I’d prefer not to treat you like that.”

“Baby, I know how much you care about me. You’re not hurting my feelings; it’s just roleplaying.” A short pause in your conversation ensues as he contemplates your words while you run your fingers along his neck and jaw. “Would you be open to trying it again, maybe, or was it just not for you?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable speaking to you in that way. I didn’t like calling you a dirty girl or saying that I was gonna fuck your mouth. Seeing your face when I said that nearly made me stop.”

Upon noticing the uncertainty flickering in his dark gaze, you gently coax him to bring his face closer to yours by lightly pressing your fingers against the back of his neck. You then close the gap between your lips once more with a long kiss that you hope communicates to him at least a sliver of the immense amount of love you have for him. His hand cups the side of your face when you pull away, making you smile.

“It’s okay. We won’t do it again if it makes you uncomfortable,” you reassure him, “But will you call me a good girl and take control like that more often? I think I enjoyed that part the most.”

He nods, sending a ripple through the dark sea of waves atop his head, and presses another kiss to your forehead. 

“I love you, Kiyoomi,” you utter when he pulls away.

“I love you too, (f/n). Let’s go in the shower now.”

You let out a low murmur of disagreement and pull him closer to you so that his warm body's hovering over yours once more. Giving him a playful tug on his lower lip with your teeth, you mention, “You made me wait too long tonight for one time to be enough, baby.”

masterlist

dedications: this work is dedicated to the lovely @ohbyunhunn​ :) I hope you enjoy since you were havin a rough day ❤️ thanks for listening to all my whack ideas n supporting me anyway bb 😌

[agerestorybits]

morality abandoned.

(Themes of verbal abuse and neglect) 

(please informing me if I need to correct the tags, thank you.)

Patton used to be taken care of. Roman and Virgil would take turns watching him but now…

Patton was little hugging his stuffed cat that he got from Roman and knocked on Roman’s door only to be ignored again. “Ro?” He called softly, clearly little. Still Roman refused him enterary.

So he left to go check if Virgil would talk to him again. It was unlikely but still he would hope before going back to bed to cry for the remainder of his time little then pick himself back up, move on and try to fix things.

Even if it never worked.

He was halfway there when he ran into Remus. “What’s a little thing like you running around alone for?” He asked seeing that Patton was regressed.

Patton sniffed and pointed at Virgil’s door.

“Mm Cg.” He muttered.

Remus nodded and let him past to the door. Patton knocked. “Vee? Can see ou now?”

“FUCK OFF!” Virgil growled from inside.

Patton jumped at the yell before his shoulders slumped and tears fell. He sat down on the floor outside Virgil’s door and hid his face in his plushie to cry. Remus stood there staring for a solid minute not moving until he got the urge to crack Virgil’s skull open down.

He went over and picked up Patton who looked at him surprised. “Wat doin?”

“You need someone to take care of you and if THAT ASSFACE is going to ignore you even if you’re little looks like I’ll pick up the slack.” Remus said yelling at Virgil’s door. He got a few steps away before Virgil opened the door.

Patton lit up seeing his caregiver. Virgil glared at him. “Who cares if he needs someone to watch him!” Virgil snapped.

“I hate to be responsible but you don’t blame a little for their big mistakes.” Remus said shifting so Patton was further away from Virgil as Patton peeked up scared of his caregiver.

Virgil snorted before looking at Patton again who burst out crying and hid his face. Hid from him. Virgil’s anger died but before he could step forward or say anything Remus took off with Patton.

---

Remus kicked open the door to Janus’ room and plopped Patton down on the bed. Janus looked up from where he was reading in the corner. “Oh..you brought a guest.”

Patton waved with one hand and dried his tears with his cat plush in the other. “Hi.”

“Guess fucking what?” Remus said pissed. Janus sighed and closed his book.

“Please don’t tell me that you-”

“They are IGNORING LITTLE HIM.” Remus said without letting Janus speak.

Janus stood up. “What?”

“He was knocking on their doors, Roman didn’t even answer and V-douche-”

“Child.” Janus reminded him before Remus could go further. Remus looked at Patton who was confusion and more than a little upset.

“Sorry Patty cake I’m not mad at you.” Remus said softly he and Janus sat down on either side of him on the bed.

“Yous not?” Patton whispered.

Janus offered him a hug, Patton crawled into his lap. “Of course not. We would never be mad at little you.” Janus promised.

Patton looked down the the stuffed cat. “Mm caregives are. They ate me now.”

“They don’t hate you.” Janus lied.

“Jan..” Remus said looking at him. Janus sighed.

“They hate you a little bit. BUT they will get over it.” Janus said.

“Hope so.” Patton hugged the cat so tightly it’s head would have popped off if it had been real.

Remus wanted to go smack the heck out of them for this. Janus put a hand on Remus’ shoulder and gave him a look.

Remus nodded. Later.

For now it was time to take care of Patton.

---

Roman and Virgil were waiting for Patton when Remus was taking him back to his room for bedtime. Patton lit up when he saw them before slumping and half hiding behind Remus.

Roman took a breath. “Patton...It’s been unfair of us to treat little you so harshly while big you was the one to cause the problems.” Patton looked hopeful.

“But we can’t handle being around you right now.” Virgil said. “So until things get resolved….we aren’t your caregivers anymore.”

Patton had tears pooling in his eyes. “Ok.” He whispered sniffling. Remus held onto Patton, and watched as Roman and Virgil left.

“Let’s get you to bed.” Remus said taking Patton into his bedroom.

Patton crawled in bed and curled up still silently crying. Remus laid down next to him and pulled him against his side. “When Virgil left I felt awful. I kept hoping that he would come back and things would be normal again.”

Patton looked at him. Remus sighed, “Sometimes people leave and we can’t change that. I’m sorry.”

Patton patted Remus’ cheek. “It k.” He paused. “Ous leave too?”

Remus hugged him tightly. “No...No I won’t leave too.” Remus promised. “I’ll stick around, can’t get rid of me. And Janus’ be here too.”

“Tank you.” Patton said. “Ous can leave thou. I a bother.”

Remus hugged Patton tighter. “Never a bother. You deserve to be little and have care while being little.” Then Remus groaned. “I’ve spent too much time with Dee.”

Patton giggled. He hugged Remus tightly as he fell asleep. Remus stared at the ceiling for hours afterwards before drifting to sleep as well. As long as he was around, Patton wasn’t going to be abandoned again.

---

Patton was waiting. He was being cared for by Remus and Janus until Ro.an and Virgil wanted him back. He never told them what he was doing but had a feeling everyone knew. Roman and Virgil did let him come back. Only, they were still mad. They didn’t say it out right but would be overly mad at him for being loud or as they said ‘annoying’.

Roman yells at him for being too loud, he runs crying silently to Janus and Remus.

Virgil yells at him for bothering him too much, he stops asking for help, making it harder for Janus and Remus to make him feel better.

They decided to ‘take breaks’ from being his caregiver again. Each break lasts longer and longer until Patton isn’t acting normal ever. Always worried and quiet. He doesn’t make jokes anymore. To check up on people not wanting to be a bother. He doesn’t show up for movie nights anymore, or eat with everyone else in the kitchen.

Remus and Janus are furious.

Janus was rocking Patton to sleep as he was little. He was in the middle of the common room and Hissed as Virgil walked passed without even acknowledging that his little needed help. That he caused him so much stress he was having nightmares. Janus sent a seathing comment, one that Virgil sent him back a glare at but didn't reply.

That morning Patton was regressed and hanging on Roman's arm as Roman walked around barely noticing him. Just speaking to him when he wanted too and Patton beaming excited at being seen. Remus was disgusted by his brother's behavior and that was saying something.

Later he found Patton curled up in his bed staring off silently as he cried. Remus pulled him into his lap and let himself cry himself out before Patton snapped out of his Regression and excused himself with an extremely fake smile. Patton made breakfast the next morning without eating himself. Roman and Virgil didn't say a word about it.

---

Logan was regressing alone. He had wanted to try and get Roman and Virgil watch after him but… Well… after seeing what happened to Patton he couldn't. So he was by himself, timing himself to build lego sets faster when Remus come in looking for Patton.

"You're little?" Remus asked.

"Yeah. Patton is too, he was by earlier. Was crying so I played a little bit too but…" Logan scowled and angrily clicked two pieces together.

"But?" Remus asked.

"Roman yelled at him. Told him to not bug me. We were having fun too!" Logan snapped as he finished the castle set and clicking the timer. He barely beat his time.

Remus hummed. Half a mind to go hunt Roman down, half a need to take care of a lonely little and probably upset one. So he picked up Logan and went in search of patton. He had two littles to cheer up and take care.

He found Patton in his room and Dropped Logan on the bed next to him. Judging from Patton’s gasp and giggle he was still little. Remus tickled him a little before putting his hands on his hips. “Sooo guess I have two little Allll to myself this afternoon!”

“Yeah!” Logan said, almost vibrating with excitement of having two playmates. Patton hugged both of them and broke down crying, startling Remus and causing Remus to gently hug him back.

“It’s ok, We’re here.” Remus soothed and pulled both of them into his lap with a little wiggling. Logan patted Patton’s back, “We can sleep together if you want. This way cuddles!” Logan really wanted cuddles and despite Patton being upset wanted the contact. Besides it would cheer both of them. And that would be for the best he thought Logically, or as logically as anyone in little space could.

“So cookies too?” Logan asked knowing that would excite Patton and cheer him up, Or at least it should.

Patton deflated more and shook his head. “Too gross.”

Remus stared at him. “Cookies aren’t gross.”

“I is. Too fat.” Patton said wiping at his tears. “Vee and Ro says so.”

Logan and Remus froze. Logan hugged Patton tightly before dragging him wordless off the bed and out of the room to go get him so many cookies. (just enough that he didn’t get sick cu that was no fun.) He was climbing up onto the counter before Remus got into the room and rushed over picking him and up ans setting him onto the ground.

“Hey!” Logan protested. Remus ignored him and got the cookies down.

“There you can each have three.” He said opening the lid. They each grabbed three Logan sneaking and Forth for Patton, Remus caught it but Let him do so. Patton needed cheering up and a little crime was good for the brain and spirit, especially cookie crimes.

They nibbled on their cookies in front of the t.v watching Blue’s clues and Dora. Remus kept his comments to the shows to himself. At least the non child friendly ones, yelling out the wrong answers to see the little’s correct him, was too cute to resist.

At bedtime Logan led them through their routine and drug Patton to Bed with him and cuddled him so tightly that he made and small squeak. Remus chuckled at that, and tucked him in. “Stay?” Patton asked, it was the first thing he asked for the whole time. Like Remus was going to turn him down.

“Scoot over.” Was the only warning they got before Remus flopped onto them.

---

Roman went to check on Patton in the morning and found him cuddling with Remus. REMUS! He managed to pull Patton aside and started yelling at him. “He’s the bad guy!” He hissed at him.

“But he helps me.” Patton stood up for Remus feeling sick but not sure why. Maybe it was just because He was being yelled at.

“He’s evil! Do you want Thomas to be evil?” That was a really low blow but Roman’s Pride had been hurt too many times by Patton going to HIS BROTHER instead of him. If Patton could just behave none of this would be a problem.

“I’m not...he’s not evil...I’m not.” Patton said, his voice dropping to a whisper. He hugged himself unsure and dropping onto his little space fast.

Roman crossed his arms and scowled. “You need to stop going to them. Thomas is going to turn out evil if you don’t. I beg you want that.”

“What? No I doesn’t!” Patton teared up. “You’re being mean.”

Roman raised his eyebrows in mock offence. “Are you BLAMING ME? I’m trying to do the right thing! That’s all it is with you isn’t it? Just blame someone else for your mistakes!” Roman pushed Patton’s shoulder none too gently.

Patton burst out crying and ran off, getting half way to Janus before freezing. He..He didn’t want Thomas to be evil. He needed to ask someone about this.

So he went to Virgil.

Virgil was pissed to be woken up and even more so that Roman was pissed off too. Not that he was standing up for Patton just that Roman didn’t seem to stand up for his fellow caregiver. “He’s right you’ve been running off to the wrong people this whole time. Who are your caregivers?”

“You and Ro.” Patton whispered confused and scared that he was getting yelled at.

Virgil nodded and smiled, “That’s right. Good job bud.” Patton smiled happy that Virgil seemed happy.

He would be better, he had to be. He nodded and left to think. He would be better.

---

He started avoid everyone, Scared of Ro and Vee, worried that he was messing up with Re and Jan. Both sides of sides blaming the others for Patton’s behavior turning Patton into a weapon to hurt the others.

Every day seems to be endless arguing between the two sets of caregivers, they argue back and forth. Patton hasn't went back to Janus or Remus at all ever sense his caregivers told him that he could make Thomas evil, and the guilt of avoiding him has been eating him up tremendusly. He wanted to desperatly run off to Remus and Janus, but he knew that his caregivers would yell at him.

Todays fight ended up being the worst one out of the whole week, Janus ending up shouting something that triggered Virgil badly. Roman rebuted loudly shouting stuff like, "This is why you aren't accepted" and "This is why YOU are a bad guy!"

Over the past week, Patton has just been silently breaking down, trying not to get in the way, the last time he tried, Roman shoved him and told him to back off and Virgil snarled at him. Patton didn't know what to do.

Remus was finally over it and finally shouted, "IF YOU ARE SUCH GOOD CAREGIVERS THEN WHY DOESN'T LOGAN EVER COME TO YOU HUH?? YOU MESSED UP WITH PATTON SO HE DOESN'T WANT TO BE THERE EITHER, SUCH GOOOOOOOOD CAREGIVERS"

Patton melts down, he didn't want this, he didn't want everyone to be upset, he ruined everything, now Logi can't even regress around anyone because of him.

Logan noticed the loud noise and went to investigate, finding Patton curled up crying in the corner, hands over his ears as the other four screamed at each other. He was quick to get a shaking Patton out of there and safely to his room dropping as he went. He was in a bit of an older headspace so he was able to get Patton into his bed and rock him until the younger little wasn’t shaking anymore.

“I’m sorry!” They both cried. Patton for feeling like he messed everything up and Logan for not stepping up before in or out of Littlespace. Even if neither of them were to blame the guilt ate at them and apologizing for it make them feel a tiny bit better. Enough that Patton could fall and asleep and Logan remained awake to watch over him.

Meanwhile Remus and Janus noticed that the Little was gone and all four of the Caregivers where in a race to find him before Remus thought to check Logan’s room, Remus and Janus burst in first followed quickly by Roman and Virgil.

Logan held up a finger in his lips glare at him. “He’s asleep.” He whispered fiercely.

Remus and Janus silently went over to the bed while Roman and Virgil left feeling...guilty Thoughts a mess.

Maybe Remus and Janus were right.

What did that make them?

---

Patton woke up to breakfast, one that everyone insisted he eat with them. Logan was still little and much to Patton’s delight was being cared for by Remus and Janus, as well was he was. Remus and Janus took up being His permanent caregiver, Roman and Virgil giving up the role much to Patton’s dismay yet relief.

Things went to a new normal. Patton slowly became more used to being with Remus and Janus. Even with Logan.

He still saw Roman and Virgil around, It was hard but getting easier the more time they were nicer to him. They still had work to do on themselves. Some days they were bitter and ignored him still, those days were hard. But, they would come back later and apologize and that helped some what.

Patton was sitting on Janus’ lap, Logan on Remus’ both with cookies as they watched cartoons.

He felt safe and most importantly, loved.

[btsmutimagines]

Our Future

Look, I suck at titles, y’all and I’m a day late ffs but happy birthday Kookie 

Arranged Marriage AU

Word Count: 7.5K (I really need to stop)

Grey skies arched above you as you walked home, kicking a small pebble along with you until it got caught between a crack in the sidewalk.

You audibly sigh, enjoying yourself as you kicked it further and further each time. It was almost like you were that pebble, your life seeming to be pushed by something until it stops.

You were stuck, just like your little pebble.

You finally reached your house, unlocking the front door and noticing the familiar shoes. They were shined up and as uninvited as usual but their owner paid no mind to what you thought, clearly.

The back of your father’s head greeted you as you stepped into the living room and he put down the newspaper he was reading.

You brace yourself, knowing he came to talk to you about something. He never really looked for a conversation, just a breathing punching bag.

“Hello, father.”

“I expected you to be home sooner.”

“I hadn’t expected any guests.”

“Maybe if you answered my phone calls once in a while.”

“You don’t pick up when I call back.”

“I’ve been busy, Y/N.” When are you not? You silently retorted in your mind.

“What did you need to say, father?”

“I’d like you to come to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

“I rather not.”

“Tell me why? Is there something unpleasant about a father and daughter enjoying a nice dinner together?”

“When have we ever done anything ‘nice’, father?” He cocked an eyebrow, he knew damn well that your relationship was far from any loving familial ties.

If you had it your way, he won’t ever know where to find you.

“The Blanche, seven o’clock. I’ll have Hyunjin pick you up.” He adjusted his tie, standing up to walk away and you clenched your fists.

You wanted to yell, at least tell him off for coming over uninvited to force you into some weird dinner. But you merely stood as he brushed past you, you standing in your spot until you heard your front door shut.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ─── 

This morning, you found a box with a card attached in front of your door.

You could tell from the intricate design on the card, it was from your father. Inside was a gorgeous red dress, the off-shoulder design along with the leg slit satisfying your tastes.

You held up the dress, looking in the full-length mirror and imagining yourself in it.

“As if he would know what I liked.” You scoffed to yourself, pulling the dress back on your bed. He probably just sent off one of his servants to find something for you.

Even so, what would be so important that he would send you something to wear? You were his well-kept secret, him wanting you to keep yourself hidden from his life for appearances.

He couldn’t afford to be distracted, he said. In exchange for you disappearing from his life, he sends a weekly allowance that you’ve been saving in a separate account.

Maybe one day when you’re finished, you can pack up your things and truly disappear. Nothing was tying you down to this city anyways.

Bzzt.

You heard your phone vibrate, a text notification appearing on the screen.

Incoming in 5, 4, 3, 2…

“One!” You heard your friend, Yeseul entering your apartment and you put to the dress back into its box hastily.

“Where are you?”

“Bedroom.” She wandered in, quickly embracing you in a hug and you stood still. You’ve been friends since freshman year, Yeseul being the only one who put up with you.

You didn’t mind hanging out with her but you didn’t put your eggs into her basket yet.

Memories of your ‘friends’ asking you to hang out, racking up a huge bill and then making excuses to leave you to pay each time. Your dad even got on your case, interrogating why you spent so much each week. He cut you off, only giving you enough for lunch and your so-called friends were suddenly too busy for you.

How naïve.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“Zoning out, burning imaginary holes into the last thing you looked at. You know, the usual.”

“I was just thinking, Seul.”

“Well stop that, we got other things to do.”

“We? What are you roping me into now?”

“Why do you say that like I only get you into trouble?”

“Because you do.” You deadpanned, you haven’t forgotten the time she thought it was a good idea to stay for after-hours when there’s a curfew in place. You had to dip into the savings to pay off the ticket you got.

“It’s harmless fun, Y/N.”

“That citation definitely harmed my savings.” You muttered.

“Anyways, listen. You and me, dancing and drinking at Hoseok’s party tonight. Sounds like a dream, right?”

“A nightmare, actually.”

“Come on, Hoseok was gracious enough to invite me with a plus one, meaning you.”

“I have to pass.”

“Why?”

“I have plans. Dinner plans, actually.”

“Who’s the mystery man? He must be worth your time since you’re passing up an offer from me.” She knows damn well you would pass up any party with or without plans.

“That’s not important. I just don’t think I can miss this dinner. Sorry.”

“So secretive. I expect no less though.”

“I’ll tell you about it later.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. I’ll take enough shots for both of us.”

“Remember to drink water in between and eat something too.”

“Okay.” She pursed her lips, leaving your apartment right after and you sat on your bed. You shook off the tension, checking the time and preparing yourself for this dinner.

Whatever it’s about, you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it.

You were adjusting your necklace when you hear a knock at your door. Opening the door revealed Hyunjin, one of your father’s drivers. He was newer than the others but devoted to your father like the others.

“Miss Y/N?”

“Y/N is fine. Take me to where I need to go, please.”

“As you wish, Y/N.” You took his arm, locking your door behind you and followed him to the car. The unease settled in when he started driving, part of you that you just went to that party with Yeseul.

Maybe she wouldn’t make that pointed comment and you would send your father a message.

Alas, here you are, walking into the Blanche like the little good girl he expected you to be. Wearing the dress he picked for you, even putting in the useless effort of making yourself presentable to only be met with him scowling at his phone.

“Hello to you too.”

“Ah, so you did come. Glad to see you have the decency to clean yourself up.”

“I rather you tell me why am I here instead of having this conversation with you.”

“First, sit.”

“I don’t plan on staying.”

“Then, change your plan. I have very important people that you have to meet arriving soon and it would be rude to stand there as you are.” You grit your teeth, sitting across from your father and crossing your arms.

A waiter braved his way to your table, filling up your water glass while you shot daggers at your father. Bastard didn’t even have the decency to even hint at who these ‘very important people’ are and why it should somehow matter to you?

You thought the deal was you wouldn’t even say your father’s name in passing and he could live his life freely. No burden of you.

“Ah, Younghee.” Your father got up, making you turn your head to look at a woman who was walking towards your table.

God, was he going to tell you that he was marrying this woman? Why would you even care if he gets remarried?

“I’m terribly late again, aren’t I?”

“Hardly. Is he here as well?” He? Was there a man accompanying her? Her son?

“Of course, he’s an important part of this conversation.”

“That is right. Oh, I almost forgot, this is Y/N, Younghee.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“How polite. Ah, you’re more beautiful than I thought.”

“Thank you very much.” Currently wishing the ground would swallow you whole, right about now. At least before this other guest shows up.

“Oh, Jungkook, darling, over here.” She waved someone over you, this time you stared forward. You froze as this man took a seat next to you. Fuck, you should have ditched when you still had the chance.

“Pardon my mother and I’s tardiness, sir.”

“It’s quite alright, Jungkook. All that matters is that we are all here now. Before we start, we should actually order something. Breadsticks will not get me through the night, I’m afraid.” This fucker is just going to keep dancing around the real topic for as long as he can-

“Um, I’m Jungkook. Y/N, I presume.” You looked at the man, quietly taken aback by how attractive he was. His hair was slightly parted, each hair perfectly in place. His shaped jaw highlighted his face, his pink lips were a perfect hue and he was just… perfect. But he was going to be your stepbrother, right? You shouldn’t even look at him in any other way.

“You would be right, Jungkook.”

“See, they’re already getting along.” You wanted to roll your eyes, all you did was introduce yourselves.

The waiter took your order, you quietly tapping your foot while your father acted jovial with his two guests. You only answered when addressed, quiet otherwise and hoping your food would arrive soon.

“So, Jungkook, your mother says you’re a game developer.”

“Yes, sir. Currently developing a sequel to one of my first projects.”

“My Jungkookie’s project has sold almost one billion copies globally. I’m lucky to have such a successful son.”

“Mother.”

“That’s impressive, right, Y/N?”

“Yeah, sure.” You were more interested in swirling the rich wine that sat in the glass you held in your right hand than whatever this conversation was about.

“Y/N’s in university, right? I’ve heard from your father that you have multiple companies scouting you.”

“That’s really cool.”

“Yup.” You said, taking a large swig and placing your glass on the table.

“Alright, enough of the small talk. Why are we really here?”

“Forgive her, Younghee, I’m afraid alcohol tends to loosen her lips. But I don’t mind cutting the chase.”

“It’s quite alright, I’m sure she wants to relax. After all, to be married so young in this day and age is a rarity.”

Married?

“Wait, excuse me. Who’s getting married?”

“You and Jungkook are getting married. Engaged for now.”

“Are you joking? This is a joke, right?”

“Had you not tell her? This is a lot to load on the child.”

“She could have seen it coming.”

“You’re too mean.” You got up, walking away from the table as you glared at your father. Of course, he would pull some shit like this with you now and then he has to remind you that he was in control.

“Y/N!” You didn’t look back, not caring about who was following you.

“Y/N, please.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“I can’t. Not when you’re like this.” You stopped, turning around to face Jungkook. He loosened his tie, his coat over his shoulder as he caught his breath.

“You know you walk fast in heels.”

“Why did you follow me anyways? Did your mom send you?”

“I came on my own. Your dad made some excuse about you being drinker than he thought, and my mom just accepted it. I figured it was more than that.”

“Even if it was, it’s none of your business.”

“Hard to say when we’re engaged now, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to get married to you, Jungkook.” He looked down, running his hand through his hair.

“Are you really okay with this, having everything in your life dictated by someone else? Don’t you want to know what it’s like to choose?”

“All I ask is that you give me a chance.”

“Jungkook.” How strong is his mother’s hold on him?

“I know that this is probably the worst thing that could happen to you, being forced to be stuck with someone like me but I want to show you who I am. Show you that I’m someone that you can fall in love with. If we don’t work, I’ll break the engagement myself.” You looked at him, his hand clasped together as he pleaded with you.

He looked so sincere, something in his eyes made you feel like he meant it.

“I’m holding you to that.” You replied, looking away from him and he pulled you into a sudden huh. Your body stiffened, not expecting the sudden skinship. He felt warm, the scent of his cologne making it hard to think of a better adjective.

“Thank you.”

“You’d be welcome if you let me go.” You blurted, not wanting to linger around him any longer.

“Sorry. Got a little too excited.” He cleared his throat, you avoid his eyes while you fiddled with your dress.

“Can I take you home?”

“If you’re okay with a few blocks.”

“Why not call a taxi?”

“Easier to walk.” You asserted, beginning to walk in the direction of your apartment and Jungkook could only follow you.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

 You made it home, Jungkook awkwardly bidding you goodbye while you muttered a good night before slipping inside. Thankfully, you had classes to distract you but all you could think about how your dad decided to basically sell you off for his best interests. Someone like Jungkook probably had a monopoly on the gaming industry and your father wanted to venture into technology.

Regardless of how good looking he was, how successful he is, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was mainly your father’s and his mother’s influence that is driving him. How long can he put up this earnest act?

Give me a chance.

“Ugh.” You groaned, his words repeating in your head and you felt someone poking at your head.

“Quit it.”

“It’s only Monday.”

“That’s part of the problem, Seul.” You looked up to see her sitting next to you, she didn’t seem upset anymore.

“Then what is it? Mystery date was a dud?”

“Something like that.” More like mystery fiancé.

“What happened?” You came up with a lie, telling her that your father arranged your marriage overnight would result in questions you didn’t want to answer.

“I agreed to a second date and I’m not sure if I’m still up for it since we didn’t start on the right foot.”

“What do you like about him?”

“He’s loyal to a fault, he puts in the effort, ambitious…”

“Sounds like things you put on a resume.”

“It wasn’t the best first date.”

“But you said yes to a second one.”

“But he said some sweet things when he did. It sounded like something out of a drama.”

“Aw, he melted your heart a bit, didn’t he?”

“Shut up.” You snapped, embarrassed that you admitted that part of what he said actually affected you.

“I think you should give it a shot since you saw something in him. Plus, you could always dump him if he’s not what he seems.”

“I guess, you’re right this time.”

“What do you mean ‘this time’? Aren’t I always right?”

“You wish.” She nudged you, you were laughing in response.

After your talk with Yeseul, you felt better about the bombshell. But you figured you would have some time before you would see Jungkook. Not him standing outside of your apartment building with his hands in his pockets.

He looked formal, wearing a waistcoat with a dress shirt. You could see gloves covering his hands and you cursed yourself for immediately thinking of how hot he looked.

“Y/N.”

“At my pace, my ass.” You muttered as you tried to pretend that you couldn’t know him, but he started to jog towards you. The two of you ran in the opposite direction of your apartment until he caught you, your back pressed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Caught you. Part of me is starting to think you like the chase.”

“I like space, which you’re invading.”

“Right, no hugs. But can we talk face to face?” He let go and you obliged to his request, currently giving him a hard stare.

“I really came because I don’t have your number, can’t give our relationship an honest try without each other’s number.” You gulped, even the word ‘relationship’ made you feel weird. He was right, you thought to yourself, you had to give this an honest try, so you could properly reject him and break it cleanly.

After all, how could you fall for someone like him?

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“Having daydreams about me?”

“Ha, you wish, Jeon.” You started to walk back in the direction of your house, not wanting to stay out for long.

“Not even my first name, I thought we were closer than that.”

“You have to work for it.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes.” How do you say things like that so casually, ugh? You pulled out your phone, handing it over to him to enter his number before he turned it over.

“Kookie?”

“It’s cuter hearing you actually saying it out loud.”

“I’m literally never saying that again.”

“Aw, come on Y/N, I can make up a cute nickname for you too.”

“Please don’t.”

“You seem like a sugar plum.”

“What kind of nickname is that? Sugarplum? I don’t even know what that is.”

“Have you never tried them?”

“I think your terrible nickname counts as a deterrent.”

“Why wouldn’t you want to be compared to a candy?”

“It’s not exactly something I want to hear, to be honest.”

“I promise to come up with something better.”

“A promise I wish you can’t keep.”

“I’m not giving up.”

“This is a weird hill you want to die on but by all means, go ahead.”

“At least it’s earned me a smile today.”

“You talk like the main lead in a romance drama. Just awfully cheesy.”

“I hope you’re not lactose intolerant.”

“Seriously, stop it.” You reach your apartment, the two of you talking while walking up flights of stairs until you were at your door.

“Time flies, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed.”

“I wish it would stop, kind of liked talking to you.”

“Mhm.”

“Ouch, you didn’t feel the same. I thought we had a good chat.”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. Can’t play all my cards, can I?” You unlocked your door, letting yourself in but leaving it open enough that you could still see him.

“If this is a game, hope you don’t mind losing. I play to win, Y/N.”

“We’ll see about that. Good night.”

“Night, Y/N.” You shut your door, walking into your bedroom and plopping on the bed.

I play to win, Y/N. Not on my watch, Jungkook.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

“If you stare at your phone that hard, you might actually shoot laser beams at it.”

It’s been two weeks since you and Jungkook had met, the man semi occupied your thoughts. He kept his distance, probably leaving the ball in your court in terms of whether you wanted to talk to him or not.

And you hate to admit it but you did want to talk to him at least.

“Har har.”

“Is Mystery Date on your mind again? Did you have your second date?”

“I guess you could say so, it went so much smoother like I could say anything, he would know what to say back. It was nice.” God, you sounded like a high schooler in their first relationship. And you can’t even see you and Jungkook beyond acquaintances.

“So, he wasn’t a waste of time but what’s wrong now?”

“I don’t know what to text him.”

“Wait, you weren’t already texting?”

“I met him off Tinder and he wanted to delete the app so we exchanged numbers.” You lied coolly, Yeseul humming in response.

“What are you hoping this message sends to him? Not literal, like do you want him to be more enticed by you or like you’re playing a hot and cold thing with him.”

“Just that I’m open to texting.”

“Oh. You’re not ready for sexting anyways.”

“What?”

“Just send him a simple ‘hey’.”

“Isn’t that too simple?”

“But you’re just opening a conversation, you don’t need much.”

“Are you sure?”

“Y/N, do it before I do it myself.”

“Okay, okay.” You murmured, typing it out and hitting send. He must have seen it, the familiar three dots appearing on your screen before his message came.

I didn’t think you would actually text me, I was preparing to camp out your apartment door.

I would totally call apartment security if you did.

So mean, honey bun.

Honeybun? I think you should retire from this nickname thing, it was funny the first time and now it’s just sad.

No good, huh? I have gotten plenty more to try out.

I swear I’m going to block you if you do.

Fine, I won’t try them out here. But believe me when I say that I’m going to have the perfect nickname for you and you’re going to love me for it

Sure, Jeon.

You do realize my name is actually Jeon Jungkook, not Jeon?

I am aware

Man, you play hard to get on the hardest mode, but I’m not giving up. I’m going to capture your heart.

“Oh my gosh, he’s going to ‘capture your heart’. He found your weakness, sappy lines.”

“They are not my weakness.”

“Please, all I have to say is ‘Don’t let go-”

“It’s too soon, Yeseul. Okay, too soon.”

“Are you sniffling?”

“Shut it.”

Great, you got my friend in on your corny lines

Aw, you talked about me to your friends? Can’t keep us a secret, babe? ;)

I rather keep it a secret but I need advice.

Advice?

Yeah, how to deal with such a shameless man.

Hey, I have some shame. It take a lot of confidence to talk to a girl like you, I feel like you can see through me

So, you know to not waste my time.

Time with me is always worth it, trust me.

Mhm

Somehow that hurt more than when you do that in person.

Hey, Y/N, I’m really happy you texted me but I gotta go? Talk to me later or something.

Don’t play too hard

That’s literally my job, Y/N but seriously bye J

“He sounds cute.”

“He’s something else, really.”

“I know you like to keep people at an arm's length but it really looks like he wants to be centimetres apart if you catch my drift.”

“We’ve been out twice, I’m not going to sleep with him.”

“Is he hot?”

“Objectively.”

“What kind of answer is that?”

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

“I’m going to tell you to bag him.”

“You’re nuts.”

“No, it’s been two weeks since you met, he seems pretty decent and he’s objectively hot, whatever that means.”

“I still need to get to know him.”

“Just take him for a test drive.“

“Yeseul!”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You were scrolling through your twitter feed, reading some thread exposing another influencer when you heard a knock on your door.

“Coming.” You said, walking over and opening it to Jungkook.

He lost the business attire, wearing a simple black shirt and jeans. Fine, so it wasn’t the suits that made him look so hot.

“Wow.”

“Is there a reason you showed up on this fine Saturday?”

“Because I want to take you out. Plus I got to see you in shorts.”

“My eyes are up here, Jeon.”

“Wait, let me admire them a bit longer.” You were about to swing the door shut when he stopped the door.

“I was just joking, Y/N. But would you like to go out with me?”

“You don’t mean like a date, do you?”

“Whatever you want it to be.”

“Then we can hang out, Jungkook.”

“You said my name.”

“Did I? Must have been a slip of the tongue, Jeon.”

“Shoot, I should have enjoyed it while it lasted.”

“You can wait in the living room. Touch anything and I’ll have your head.”

“You’re joking, right?” You smiled in response.

“Oh.”

“So where are we going?”

“Somewhere fun, casual.”

“How descriptive.”

“It’s no fun if I tell you everything. You’ll know when we get there.”

“Of course I would because we would already be there.”

“Just get changed, Y/N.”

“Bossy.” You teased, going into your bedroom to change.

Should I dress up for him? But the most we are is friends and since when did friends have to impress each other? Gosh, why are you even thinking about this? Just toss something together!

You put on a crop top and some shorts, joining Jungkook in the living room after brushing your hair.

“Let’s go.” You clapped your hands together, getting Jungkook’s attention and walking towards the front door.

You thought you heard Jungkook mutter under his breath, making you quietly smirk before turning to look at him.

“Is something the matter?”

“Of course not. After you.” The two of you opted for the elevator, you listening to Jungkook hum melodically. He led you to his car, opening the door for you and you sat with a quiet ‘thank you’.

“Are you really not going to tell me?”

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s a building in this city.”

“I see you can be mean too.”

“Taste of your own medicine. A bit bitter, isn’t it?”

“You’re enjoying it, aren’t you?”

“A bit.”

“Hmph.”

“Sounds more cute than angry.”

“You’re a strange man.”

“Only to you, Y/N. Mother says I’m the most perfect person in the world, you’re a close second though.” You rolled your eyes, you’re surprised he went so long without mentioning his mother and chose now to bring her up.

“Of course she does. You’re her baby boy.”

“Oh shit, forgot about your father.”

“Let’s keep him forgotten.”

“Alright.”

“I’m surprised you know how to drive.”

“What a weird comment. Why wouldn’t I know?”

“You seemed like the type to have drivers, mommy won’t want her baby to get into an accident.”

“I’m not that much of a momma’s boy. I have a motorcycle license, I’ll have you know.”

“You? On a motorcycle?”

“I was 18 and feeling rebellious. It explains the earrings too.”

“They suit you actually.”

“Thank you.”

“Now, I have to see you on a bike.”

“Depends, will you take a ride with me?”

“You just want an excuse to get me to hug you, don’t you?”

“Damn, nothing gets past you. But I miss the night rides and it’s nicer with company.”

“I might take you up on that.”

“I guess I better dust off the old bike, then.”

“It’s not a date, remember that.”

“I know, I know.” He pulled into a parking lot, smoothly reversing into a spot before the two of you getting out.

“This way.” You followed him, the sign a dead giveaway and you smiled.

“I could have guessed that you would pick an arcade.”

“It’s fun and casual.”

“Hey, Ms. Han.”

“Oh, Jungkook honey, you came! Who is this lovely woman? Your girlfriend?”

“No, she’s just a friend, Ms. Han.”

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” You bowed to her and she waved her hands.

“No need to be so formal, a friend of Jungkookie is a friend of mine. This rascal has been coming to this arcade for years, even skipping classes to beat the high scores on most of these machines.”

“Is that so? What a bad boy.”

“Hey, don’t gang up on me. I still did well, didn’t I, Ms. Han?”

“With the skin of your teeth. You’re lucky you were a talented kid, now a big name game developer.”

“I’m still the same Jungkook.”

“You are the reason I still have banana milk in my fridge.”

“My favourite. Thank you, Ms. Han.”

“Ah, you.” Jungkook cheekily smiles before laughing, soon enough the three of you were. You took a seat at a machine, Jungkook sitting next to you and playing.

“Wanna make a bet?”

“Depends, what do I win?”

“Your most embarrassing baby photo.”

“Blackmail material, huh? Won’t put it past you.”

“Humour me with what you think you’ll win.”

“You let me take you out on a real date.”

“Aiming high, aren’t you?”

“Of course, the greater the risk, the greater the reward. You in?”

“Better be ready to hand that picture over tomorrow.”

“Don’t count on it, babe.” There’s the damned nickname, hearing it in person has the same effect as it does typed out. You didn’t let it seem obvious, focusing on the machine and the two of you playing a single round.

“I win. I can’t wait to get my hands on the sweet blackmail material.”

“Sure, after our date.”

“That isn’t part of the deal.”

“Check the scores again, Y/N.” You looked at the two screens, Jungkook putting his arm around your shoulder with a smile on his face.

10660 to 1066…5. He beat you by 5 points.

“How.”

“I’ve been playing since high school, I think I’m losing my touch. I have the high score on this game, I think.”

“I want a rematch.”

“If that’s what you want.” You tried different combos, putting all your focus on your character and finishing with a better score than the first time.

“Beat you by 10, this time.”

“Are you cheating?”

“I think it’s a classic case of sore loseritis.”

“I am not a sore loser, just can’t wrap my head around you beating me.”

“Well, I am a game developer. If I were horrible at games, that would be ironic.”

“This isn’t fair.”

“Wait here, I’ll get you some banana milk.” You frowned at him, watching him go into the back and Ms. Han hit you with a rag.

“He looks really happy with you.”

“I think he just likes winning games.”

“This is a different kind of happy, the smile on his face looks different than when he sees me coming into the arcade with a carton of banana milk or hearing about how the neighbourhood kids talked about his game.”

“It’s like he’s in love. Just like that girl he used to talk about in high school.”

“Jungkook had a crush?”

“But he has you now. Keep your eye on him for me, will you Y/N?”

“I-”

“Ms. Han, you’re running low on banana milk.”

“Ya, you punk, you should supply your own.”

“I promise I’ll buy some next time. Y/N, here.” He handed you a bottle, the straw already inserted and you took a sip. It was really sweet, you never thought he would like something like this.

“Can we book a karaoke room?”

“For how long?”

“An hour.”

“Jungkook.”

“I want to hang out with you a bit longer.” That innocent comment led to the two of you singing the opening to Naruto three times and you two belting Unravel on the top of your lungs.

You took a seat, tired and Jungkook sang on his own. He had such a pretty voice, each note sounding perfect in your ears. Is there anything he can’t do?

“One more song?”

“You’re totally going to lose your voice.”

“I’m dedicating this song to you, Y/N.”

“Oh my god.” You covered your face, laughing as he dramatically pointed at you and he entered the code.

The gentle piano played through the speakers and he kept his eyes on the screen as he sang. It was a simple love ballad, it felt like he was truly saying these words to you.

“Are you crying?”

“Shut up, that was beautiful you ass.”

“I’m not sure whether to be offended or flattered.”

“It’s a compliment, you jerk.”

“Okay… let’s take you home.”

You followed him out to his car, going back to your apartment.

“Are we really going on a date?”

“Why? Can’t wait?”

“I rather not.”

“But we had so much fun today.”

“But it wasn’t a date.”

“I know. But it was a test run for our real date.”

“You planned this out, didn’t you?”

“No comment.”

“I can admire the sneakiness.”

“I planned the whole thing, except for the little chat between you and Ms. Han.”

“Did you eavesdrop?”

“No, I thought she would say something embarrassing that I rather not relive.”

“Really, not even the girl you had a crush on?”

“She didn’t tell you her name, did she?”

“No, but now I’m curious. A girl that got your attention, wonder what she was like? Could she be the reason you got all rebellious?”

“Hey, save these questions for our date.”

“You’re serious about that?”

“Of course. Let me walk you up.” He locked his doors behind the two of you, taking you up to your floor while talking with you more.

“Just what I wanted to see.” You looked at your father standing out of your apartment, Jungkook stopping behind you. He smirked at the two of you, your blood boiling as he adjusted his cuff links.

“Why are you here?”

“Is there something unusual about a father caring about his only daughter?”

“You? Care about me? When did that start? When I became an asset to you to use?”

“Watch your words, girl. Do you realize who you’re speaking to?”

“A deadbeat father who chose money over me.”

“You-” You shut your eyes, knowing what should come next but it didn’t. Opening your eyes, you saw Jungkook holding your father’s arm and he let go.

“Remember this, Y/N, your life was never yours. Never.” He spat, walking off and Jungkook turned to you.

“He’s done that before, hasn’t he?”

“I push his buttons a lot, don’t I?”

“You don’t have to tell me but I won’t let him get away with it anymore. Okay?” You let him hug this time, holding onto a piece of his shirt for a moment. He didn’t make you say it, thankfully but he knew what your father truly was at least.  

His hand patted your hair, the soft gesture melting your heart a bit. Your mother used to do the same thing when you were scared at night before you’d fall asleep she would say these words:

“I’ll protect you.”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

 Yeseul came over, tossing dresses in your direction and currently spazzing while you dodged.

“Oh my god, how come you have like nothing to wear?”

“We’re standing in like a hill of my clothes right now.”

“And yet you still have nothing to wear.”

“Maybe I should get a raincheck.”

“Oh hell no, I can finally meet this mystery man tonight and you can’t take that away from me.”

“Yeseul, calm down.”

“I am calm.” So not calm. You sighed, just fishing through the clothes that Yeseul chucked and finding a simple little black dress.

“That is it. Simple, chic and elegant. My tossing abilities have never failed me.” You rolled your eyes, knowing better than to argue with Yeseul about her not noticing it when she initially tossed it at you but there was no point being a dead horse.

After putting on the dress and Yeseul becoming an impromptu hair and makeup artist, you waited for Jungkook.

You heard him knock and Yeseul sprinted to the door before you could make three steps.

“Oh my god, he’s hotter than I imagined.”

“You must be Yeseul.”

“So you have talked about me.”

“Yeah, just the usual, you being annoying and slightly overbearing. Everyday things.”

“Sometimes I wonder how Jungkook managed to get through 2 months of you without even thinking he needs a break.”

“I think about it every day, try me.”

“Oh yeah, you can start right now.”

“Oh no, missy, and pass up on this date when you’ve dressed up so beautifully? I’d would have to be locked up in an asylum.”

“I told you you looked hot.” Yeseul boasted.

“Hush.”

“Now, I’m stealing Y/N for the night. Not sure if I’ll get her back by morning.”

“By all means, take her.”

“Gee, Yeseul, some friend you are.”

“Have fun, lovebirds.”  She rushed you both out, giving you a thumbs up and wink. You cocked an eyebrow, Jungkook leading you away and you were met with a midnight blue motorcycle.

“You weren’t joking.”

“I’d never joke about my Harley. Come on.” You took the helmet from him, placing it on your head and sitting behind him.

“Trust me and hold on.” You listen to the bike roaring to life before purring as he began to ride. He weaved through traffic carefully, probably because of you and parked at a restaurant.

“Can I..um…hold your hand?”

“Yeah.” You breathed, Jungkook quietly lacing his fingers between yours and leading you into the restaurant.

“Reservation for Mr. Jeon.”

“Right this way, sir.” The host led you to your table, an intimate booth with virtually no one in sight.

“A waiter will be with your shortly to take your orders.” He said, walking away and leaving you with Jungkook.

“Are you nervous?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to look this beautiful, it’s kind of distracting.”

“Should I be offended or flattered?”

“You’re beautiful.”

“You’re pretty handsome, I guess.”

“Compliments with you are like pulling teeth.”

“At least you know how much I mean it when I say one due to their rarity.”

“Point taken. But I’m going to keep telling you how beautiful you are until it sticks.”

“You might give me a big head.”

“Even so, you would be beautiful.”

“Charmer.”

“I aim to please, babe. Since you like it when I call you that.”

“When did I-”

“Didn’t think I would notice how you gulp anytime I said it and you look to your left?”

“Okay, that’s weird for you to notice.”

“It’s because I’m always looking at you. It’s hard to keep my eyes off you.”

“Sap.”

“But you drink it up like syrup.”

“Doesn’t make it any less sappy.”

“Fair enough.” The waiter came by, the two of you placing your orders and once again were left to each other.

“What was your childhood like?”

“Always with the hard questions, Y/N. Dad was busy expanding his empire and legacy, Mom took care of me and my older brother. My older brother started working for our dad, spending more time with the company then getting married and putting any other free time into his wife.”

“It was me and mom for a while, but my dad would come back to remind me that I was his son and he’s the one calling the shots.”

“I remember the day I ran off after turning 18, spending countless nights mindlessly riding through cities, spending nights in bars and crashing at random people’s houses to get by. My mother came for me with two men to drag me back home, my father was gone. Fucked off to god knows where.”

“Mom was lonely and so was I, so we lived together. I put my time into game development, being one of the lucky ones to hit big with my first project and here am I.”

“I guess a power-hungry father is a trope we share.”

“You’re right.”

“But you’re conveniently forgetting this mystery crush from high school.”

“She was so carefree, always doing what she wanted but never in the way of others. Like a bird. She flew away, out of my life for years.”

“Do you know what happened to her?”

“I.. don’t, could only guess she’s happy now.”

“I’m surprised your crush wasn’t a video game character.”

“Lara Croft is still my number one.”

“I see, that’s why you like shorts so much.”

“It was an awakening.” You tittered, he’s such a goofball.

“Your turn.”

“It was just me, my father and mom. My mom died in my first year of middle school, dad starts nosediving into work and I had to raise myself. Dad came home one day and told me that we shouldn’t be associated with each other anymore. Sent me away after high school and occasionally pops in to make me feel like I’m nothing without him.”

“You’re more than what he could ever be. He’s just a grumpy piece of shit.”

“It’s nice to hear someone else finally say it.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” He reached for your hand, his thumb stroking the back of your palm.

“Yeah.” He caught your eyes, the two of you having a quiet conversation through eye contact. You didn’t know what to say next until Jungkook started to wiggle his eyebrows at you.

“God.” You started to laugh, breaking eye contact.

“I win.”

“When was this a competition?”

“Since I said it was.”

“Is everything a game to you?”

“Not when it comes to like… serious stuff.”

“How profound, Jungkook.”

“I should be a philosopher.” You shook your head, him chuckling to himself. The waiter came around with your food, appreciating the arrangement before taking a bite.

It was silent yet comfortable. The quite clatter for utensils against dishes left you to think about this moment in time.

You would have never thought that you would be able to sit across Jungkook, being about to joke around with each other and just feel happy in each other’s company.

Didn’t think that you’d find yourself talking every day, hanging out whenever you were free, sometimes even missing him- Wait, when did things become so different?

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? It’s just you got a little something on your cheek.” You took a napkin, gently wiping his cheek before he could. He watched you, those brown eyes drinking the sight of you and you felt like you were drowning.

His hand came to cover yourself when you were about to pull away. Your face grew hot, his large hand clasped over yours against his cheek while he gazed into your eyes. You were slowly becoming his leading lady and you hadn’t even realized it until now.

“I like you.”

“What?”

“I like you, Y/N. Not because of our parents, but because I got to see parts of you that I didn’t know existed. You’re witty, competitive, smart, beautiful, everything I could ever want and need.”

“Jungkook.”

“Tell me I’m not crazy for feeling like this, that I’m not the only one.”

“You’re not crazy.”

“But how do you feel about me?”

“Promise me you won’t grow a big head.”

“I won’t grow a big head all of a sudden.”

“I think you’re different from who I thought you were.”

“Good different?”

“Good different. Maybe more than that.”

“I’ll take it.”

 ───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

 You took off your helmet, fixing your hair and Jungkook getting off after shutting his bike off.

“You totally rode slower this time.”

“It’s the only time you’ll hold me.”

“That’s because…you’re the affectionate one.”

“And I’ve been deprived, you know.”

“You have my permission now.” He took a step closer to you, his hand gently smoothing over a strand of your hair before tucking it behind your ear. His hand swiftly moved to hold your cheek before he looked into your eyes.

“I want to kiss you so badly.”

“Please do.” You breathed mindlessly before he leaned in.

He was gentle, your kiss barely touching before you pulled on his tie to reel him closer. Your mind was racing faster than your heart, the softness of his lips blocking out any other thought beside Jungkook.

He tasted like the champagne you two shared, the sweet taste more intoxicating than the actual alcohol. You melted, him wrapping an arm around your waist and temporarily breaking your kiss.

You dived back in, not wanting to let go the feeling his lips gave you. It hadn’t occurred to you that you were waiting for this for so long, holding back for what?

You pulled away, needing to breath and he held you close. His heart was pounding as hard as you was while you quietly listened against his chest.

“Give me your hand.”

“Now, close your eyes.”

“You’re getting bossy, you know.”

“Sometimes I like to wear pants, you know.”

“Don’t get used to it. I like control.”

“Then I’m all yours. Open them.” You looked your hand, seeing a ring on your ring finger.

It was a silver band with red heart crystals embedded around it.

“It’s just a promise ring. A promise that I’ll be by your side… as your boyfriend.”

“Jungkook.”

“Will you be my girl?”

“Of course, I will, Kookie.”

[lilchibi-chan]

Terushima Yuuji x Female Reader

Art by KittleKrattle

Genre: fluff/smut (a good 50/50 for those who appreciate both) 18+ PLEASE

Warnings: jealous/possessive Terushima, degradation, praising, dirty talk, oral, daddy kink, NSFW.

You are in college and Terushima comes to pick you up from school a couple times a week if he’s not too busy with work in the salon. This week he has decided to take a day off, so that he can surprise you and pick you up from school.

When he reaches your campus, he goes to the building that your last class of the day is in. Your class actually let out early, but he didn’t know because he didn’t want to ruin the surprise by contacting you. He decides to walk around the building and look for you since you posted what you were wearing on your instastory. When he finally finds you, you’re with a group of your friends, three guys and two girls. He noticed one of the boys is a little friendlier with you. Always finding a way to touch you whether it be putting an arm around your shoulders, touching your hair/patting your head, even touching your waist at one point. You were also laughing at some of the boys jokes.

He decided to walk over to where you were because he had had enough of watching this random guy keep touching what was his and you laughing at him. Whatever it was, wasn’t that funny.

You heard footsteps coming down the hall, which caught your attention. Your eyes widen and so does your smile because you are so excited to see Terushima.

“Hey ba-” he cuts you off, cupping your face and kissing you, never cutting eye contact with the guy who had his hands all over you.

“What was that for,” you ask smiling

“Oh, I’m just excited to see you sweetheart. Surprise by the way,” he says looking at you and smiling

“Guys, this is my boyfriend, Terushima,” you say excitedly

Everyone goes around the circle introducing themselves. He shakes the hands of the two girls (Kiyoko and Yumeko), daps and bro hugs two of the guys (Soma and Akaashi), even the one that made laugh (Soma). He saved his anger for the guy that was being very touchy (Itsuki).

Terushima did the same dap and bro hug with him, only this time he wasn’t playing nice.

“Don’t fucking touch my girlfriend again. Next time, you won’t get to keep those hands,” he whispered so that you wouldn’t hear. Terushima pulled away from him smiling like nothing happened and your friend tried to do the same, but you knew something was off.

“You ready to go baby,” he asks you

“We were actually gonna go get food and maybe do karaoke, you’re welcome to come, if that’s okay with you guys.”

All your friends confirmed it was okay and you all went to the karaoke bar which also provided food.

When you all get there, you are escorted to a room by the hostess and you all take your seats on the couch. You were next to Terushima in the corner section of the couch and he put his arm around your waist pulling you closer.

Your two girl friends start off the karaoke and you watch them as they’re having fun. You even join in the singing from your seat, Terushima’s arm still around you, but he’s moved it to your shoulders. He was watching as you had fun and smiled at you. When he looked passed you, he noticed Itsuki staring at you.

He decided to show Itsuki that you belonged to him by kissing you on your neck.

“Baby~,” he says slightly moaning in your ear, causing you to melt into him. You start to become flustered and he turns your face so that you’re looking at him and he pulls you in for a kiss. He decided he wanted to deepen it and you allow him entrance into your mouth.

After you finish, he looks back over at Itsuki who now has a sad look on his face, but strangely acceptance which is what Terushima wanted.

Kiyoko and Yumeko finished their song. At the moment, no one wanted to get up and sing yet, so you all decided to eat and drink, even sharing some stories.

TIME SKIP

You all get ready to leave the karaoke bar and you hug your friends good bye. Terushima watched Itsuki closely as he hugged you, making sure his hands drifted nowhere past where they should’ve been. He would prefer if he didn’t hug you at all, but he didn’t want you mad at him, so he let it slide. He wasn’t happy about it, but he let it slide.

You both walk away from the group and he takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers

“Sweetheart,” he says gaining your attention

“Yes baby,” you say in response

“About Itsuki, has he ever, ya know made a move on you?”

“Well... he did admit his feelings to me, but I turned him down and told him all about you.”

“That’s interesting because when I came to pick you up today, he had his hands all over you, my love.”

“Y-you saw that,” you ask nervous

“Oh ho ho, I sure did, sweetheart,” he says backing you onto the wall of a building you were passing by,“and when we get to my place, I’m gonna teach you a lesson.”

You feel your face heat up and it feels like your heart is in your throat, you’re so nervous. You look into his eyes and they’re even darker. Filled with lust and jealousy and you knew you were going to feel it later.

You finally make it to his apartment and as soon as you enter he doesn’t even give a chance to take off your shoes before backing you into a wall and putting a hand around your neck.

“I’m gonna teach you that you are mine and nobody but me has the right to put their hands on you,” he growls into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Now, go in the bedroom and take your clothes off. If you’re not ready when I get in, the punishment will be much worse,” he says again in your ear.

You take your shoes off and go to his bedroom. You do as he says and take your clothes off. You sit on the bed and wait for him to come in the room. You feel extremely vulnerable, but also slightly curious about what is about to happen.

Terushima finally enters the room, his shirt off and a slightly sinister look in his eyes.

“I don’t remember telling you to sit on the bed sweetheart. Get up,” he says demanding

You do as he says and you stand up. He walks over to where you are and stands over you, taking in your frame. He sits in the spot you once were.

“Come here.”

You walk over and stand in front of him. He opens his legs to make space for you to stand between them.

“Kneel.”

Again you do as he says.

“Now baby, you wanna tell me why that weak bastard had his hands on you,” he says with a hand on your cheek

You stay quiet and he grips your hair in response to you not answering.

“Ya know sweetheart, I’m getting kinda impatient here. You gonna answer my question,” he says getting slightly closer to you

“Yes” you manage to get out

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl. Now go ahead and explain.”

“I honestly don’t know. I’ve told him plenty of times that I have a boyfriend. I don’t know why he was putting his hand on me, but I didn’t enjoy it.”

He puts a hand out for you to grab, so he could help you up.

“Lay on the bed.”

You do as he says, then he takes your hands and ties them together.

“Keep them above your head,” he says demanding

He proceeds to go down your body to your wet cunt.

“You’re enjoying this, huh,” he says, laughter in his voice,“such a good little slut.”

He starts to eat you out and you feel a vibration. You didn’t even know he changed his tongue ring.

‘When did he get a vibrating tongue ring?!’ You think to yourself

He starts slow, first entertaining your clit so that you could get wetter for him. You release small moans from the sensation his tongue is providing.

A few minutes later, he starts penetrating you with his tongue and you can feel the ring sending pulses through your pussy and creating a new sensation for you. One that you are really enjoying. You start to grind your hips into him and he brings his hands down your thighs to hold your hips down. He wanted full control of your body and you were gonna give it to him.

As he feels you get wetter and wetter, his desire for you grows. He starts sucking on your folds, even leaving small bites on your thighs when he takes small breaks in between pleasuring your delicate petals.

He can feel that you’re close to your climax, but he’s not finished with you yet. He abrubtly stops and you look at him.

“What baby~, you thought I was gonna let you have it that easy. No, that’s not how things work around here sweetheart. Now, get on your knees like the good little slut you are. I’ll be right back.”

He leaves and goes to the guest bathroom where he had changed to the vibrating tongue ring. He changed it back to his everyday tongue ring and returned to you, who was kneeling on the bed.

He sauntered his way over to you and started caressing your face, stopping once he reached your lips.

“Such a pretty little mouth. Hmph. Bet it’d look even prettier filled with my dick. I’d even bet money on it. Whaddya say, sweetheart? Dare to prove me right?”

He removes his hard member from his underware and strokes himself a little, making him grow a little.

You were taken aback by your boyfriend’s sadistic manner, but you were very turned on by it and did as he wanted, taking his erection into your mouth.

“Ahhh,” he moans

You start sucking his tip, trying to get used to his size and easing yourself more and more down his length the more you wet his dick.

“Ahhhhh,” he moans again,“I was right, you do look even prettier with your mouth full of dick. Really not a terrible sight,” he says smiling

He starts guiding your head, filling you mouth deeper and deeper, until saliva was dripping from your mouth. He made you go faster, taking in the pleasure as he pumped into your mouth.

“Ahhh fuck, baby~. Your mouth feels so FUCKING good and I’m glad it’s only mine to use how I feel like.”

You moan in response since you can’t really talk.

He looked down at you and saw that your eyes were focused on his dick.

“Look at me. Look at me. I wanna see that dirty expression of yours.”

You look at him and a smile grows on his face.

“Good little slut. That’s fuckin right. Look at me.”

A few more minutes go by and he decides he’s ready to finally feel your sex.

He pulls out from your mouth and tells you to lay down again. This time he joins you on the bed. He slides you legs up and goes between them, entering you.

“Fuck~, you’re so wet. Ahhhhh”

He starts thrusting into you. Long,slow, deep strokes. He wanted the anticipation to grow until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“C’mon baby~, I wanna hear you. Don’t be shy. You’re my good little slut right, so let me hear you. Let out those sensual noises.”

You decide to let out the moans you’ve been trying so hard to keep inside. This makes him go faster as the sounds you’re making are music to his ears. He still hitting as hard as he was before, but still controlled and even deeper. He grips your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“Nobody gets to touch you, but me. Fuck, if they even try, I swear I’ll end them,” he say pumping into

Hearing him say that was hot and brought you closer to your climax.

“Who’s pussy is this,” he asks you

“Yours, daddy”

“Who does your body belong to?”

“You, daddy”

“That’s fuckin right and don’t you forget it, sweetheart. Your my little whore, my little slut. Mine baby. All mine.”

He starts speeding up, as he’s close to his climax.

“Ahhhh fuck..fuck..fuck...AHHHH.”

He pulls out, letting his warm cum drip onto your breasts. You soaked it all up, loving the feeling of him releasing the thick white liquid onto your body.

He got a towel and cleaned you up. After you were clean, he got into bed with you and untied your hands. He kissed your wrists, the palms of your hands and your fingers. He helped get comfortable under the covers and wrapped you in his arms.

“You were so good for me, baby.”

He kissed your forehead, then your cheek. He turned your head so you were facing him. He cupped your face with both of his hands and he kissed your lips hard, but full of love.

“I’m so proud of you,” he says pressing his forehead to yours

“Just rest now,” he holds you closer and starts humming a tune to help you fall asleep

I hope y’all enjoyed this ☺️

[dirty-urie]

Little Brendon

Second Person

Brendon x Female Reader

PFTW Era

Fluff(ish) Oneshot

PG-13? R?

3.6k Words

Warnings In Order of Appearance: real person fic, language throughout, arguably slight smut, minor dirty talk

Author's Notes:

1. I don't know how I got this idea or what possessed me to actually write it, to be honest, but I had fun, so I guess that's all that matters.

2. Posting this in honor of the anniversary of the show I went to on the first leg of the Wicked tour, which was technically yesterday, but this fic wasn’t done yesterday, so here it is now.

“Awww, little Brendon,” you gush at the computer screen.

“Please tell me you aren’t looking at pictures of my penis,” Brendon says, walking into the room.

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Not that your ego couldn’t use a little bruising, but no, I’m not cooing at your nudes. Merch wants you to sign off on the final photos of the Beebo plush, and look how cute he is!” You shift the computer monitor so he can see what you’re looking at.

“Why are you going through my email?”

“You always ignore emails from Merch, and I like looking at all of the new Panic designs!”

“Babe, I work ten hours a day; I don’t want to do anything I don’t have to. Merch will use whatever designs they think will sell well. They don’t actually need my approval. Those sign-off emails are just a formality.”

You pout. “I know, I know. I won’t go through your email anymore.”

“Good,” he says, relieved. "I wouldn’t want you to discover all the messages from my mistresses.”

“You’re a jackass,” you call, flipping him off as he leaves the room with a smirk.

***

“I’m gonna miss you,” you pout, leaning against the door frame to your bedroom.

He kisses your forehead and puts another pair of sweatpants in a suitcase. “You can’t wait for me to leave. You get to have the girls over, watch all your shitty movies, and you won’t have to deal with my dirty underwear or noisy video games in your nice living room.”

You take the t-shirt he’s about to pack out of his hands and throw it on the bed, pulling him into a kiss. You slip your hands under the waistband of his pants to grope his ass. You pull away. “Mhm, that’s what I thought. I don’t ever have to deal with dirty underwear because you never wear any.”

“Hey! Don’t slut-shame me! You love having such easy access to this body.” He gestures to his body with a strange flailing arm motion.

“You know what? You’re right. I can’t wait for you to leave.”

He side-eyes you. “Well, in that case, you won’t want the present I got you.” He shrugs, refolding his shirt.

Your eyes light up, and you go kiss him again. “Have I ever told you how much I love you? Because it’s a lot. Enough to justify a really nice present,” You say after he pulls away.

“That’s what I thought. I guess you’ll get your present after all. Close your eyes,” Brendon says.

You close your eyes, and he hands you something soft. You open your eyes, and it’s Brendon’s likeness in plush form. He’s wearing Brendon’s tour outfit with a gold jacket over a black tee and black leather pants.

“Little Brendon!” you exclaim, seeing the toy in your hands. “Aww, it’s even got your lips and little eyebrow scar! Thank you, babe.” You kiss him and then Little Brendon. “Now I have someone to keep me company while you’re off getting bitches on tour.”

“Oh, come on, babe,” he says, putting his hand on your shoulder and looking into your eyes, “they’re not bitches, they’re groupies.”

You smack his arm affectionately and then push him onto the bed to crawl on top of him. “Maybe you should practice for the groupies. Wouldn’t want you to kill their rockstar fantasies because you’re out of experience.”

He flips you over and rolls on top of you, nipping at your neck. “Out of experience? What, pray tell, have we been doing every day for the past two weeks, if not building my experience?” he asks with disbelief, punctuating each point with a bite or kiss. “Remember when I made you come twelve times in one hour before I let myself come? Or when we fucked on the roof of my studio when the neighbors were out of town? Or when you fucked my ass with that new toy, the one that vibrates?”

“Shit, shit, point taken,” you moan, grinding up against him while he bears down on you.

His phone pings, and he slows his hips to grab it from the side table. “Fuck, Zack’s out front. I’ve gotta go.”

You grab the front of his shirt and yank him down for a deep, dirty kiss.

He’s reluctant to pull away, but his other love is calling. Tour, that is, not Zack.

“Okay, let me up, loverboy. I’ll help bring your stuff out to the car,” you tell him.

“Thank you. Most of my instruments and stuff are already with the guys, but I’ve still got two suitcases and a backpack.”

You both stand up, and he grabs the suitcases, leaving you with the backpack. “You’re not gonna readjust, rockstar?” You ask, eyeing his tented sweatpants.

He shrugs, “My hands are full, and it’s nothing Zack hasn’t seen before.”

“You just like showing off,” you accuse, and he smirks a little and winks because you’re not wrong.

You walk him to the car and give him a final goodbye kiss. “I love you to death. Knock their socks off, babe.”

***

Without fail, the one-week mark hits you like a truck. You’ve had your fun with girlfriends, and you’ve enjoyed the peace and quiet, but your bed is empty, and it’s weighing on your chest. Even the puppies seem a little more glum without Brendon.

You feel silly, but finally, after two nights of crying yourself to sleep, you give in and grab little Brendon from your dresser and cuddle up with him.

***

Two weeks later and you and the real Brendon are half-asleep, snuggled up against each other in the nicest hotel room in Houston. You can only spend two nights with him, and you refuse to let him go for even a second more than you have to. Which he did not appreciate when he had to use the bathroom, but it’s his fault for leaving you for so long.

“Baby, I’ve got an interview, but I’ll bring back breakfast, and we’ll eat in bed, okay? I’m really sorry,” He whispers apologetically, peeling away from you.

“Don’t be sorry, it’s what you have to do to pay the bills. Can you hand me Little B? He’s in my purse,” you ask, and Brendon obliges without comment, probably just happy you’re not crying.

You fall back asleep with the little guy in your arms.

Brendon knows it’s irrational when he comes back three hours later at 8 am, and he feels a tiny twinge of jealousy at the plush you’re cuddled up with. However, he feels it is not irrational that he’s upset when he climbs into bed with you, and instead of immediately clinging to him like always, you just clutch Little Brendon harder. Almost as if protecting the toy from Brendon.

“Y/N, I’m back,” he whispers in your ear, half-hoping you’ll throw the doll on the ground and roll over to make burning hot love to him for 12 hours straight. That’ll show Little Brendon. Well, no, it won’t, he has stuffing where his brain should be, but it’ll show him on principle.

You do roll over to throw an arm across him, but you still have little Brendon tucked under your other arm.

Brendon decides to call this one a draw.

“Did you bring food?” You mumble.

“Of course, darling. I’ll do anything to spoil you. That’s one of the perks of having a driver’s license and sentience.”

“…What?”

“Nothing. I’ll get your food.”

He insists on feeding you and rubbing your feet, and letting you watch whatever you want on the hotel TV. And it’s just because he wants to take care of you while you two are together. Definitely no other reason. He certainly feels no joy at the sight of Little Brendon lying discarded on the nightstand. Point Real Brendon.

After the day of pampering, it pains you when you check the clock, and it’s time to leave. “Alright, I’ve gotta head out, B. I can’t miss my flight,” you finally say, changing from Brendon’s T-shirt into real clothes.

Brendon thinks about protesting, but he knows better. You have your own life apart from him, and he respects that.

You cram your stuff in your overnight bag and give your goodbye hugs and kisses to Brendon. Then you kiss Little B before throwing him in your purse. You think you see Brendon scowl at your new companion, but you were probably just imagining it.

***

“Surprise!” Brendon shouts as he opens the door.

“Babe! Thank god I sent the strippers home early,” you joke as he sits next to you on the couch.

“Shit, I missed the strippers?”

“You fucking goof,” you laugh, playing with his hair. “What are you doing home early?”

“Nicole needed to come home for some emergency with her house, so I figured I’d charter the plane and zip down with her and Zack to spend the night with my beautiful wife.”

“God, that must’ve cost an arm and a leg, B.”

He shrugs, “Nah, we were only in Portland anyway, and it’s easier than finding a new bassist on short notice. This way, Nicole and I can be back for the San Jose show tomorrow night, and I get a whole twelve hours at home with my girl and my puppies.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad it worked out for everyone. Especially me,” you say, shifting to sit in Brendon’s lap.

You two finish up the episode you were watching before you insist that he comes to bed because he’s overworked and jetlagged. He’s sleepy and doesn’t need that much convincing, but he tries to put up a fight anyway.

“I only get a little bit of time with you; I don’t want to spend it sleeping,” he complains.

“This is the hardest I’ve ever had to work to get you in my bed,” you respond, yanking him to his feet.

His eyes light up, and you shake your head. “No, sir. We’re not having sex. You’re getting at least seven hours of sleep in your own bed with the love of your life, and then you’re going to take a shower, make me breakfast, and give San Jose the show of their lives. You’ll literally see me again in two days when I come to the LA show.”

He bites his lip, still trying to lay the seduction on thick.

“No! Bed! Or I’m making you sleep in the guest room!”

He sighs, trudging along behind you to the bedroom.

“Um, babe, I think you forgot to kick out your mistress before I got home,” he says, gesturing to his side of the bed where little Brendon is tucked into the comforter.

You scowl playfully. “Oh, shush you. Where else should I put him while making the bed?”

“I don’t know, but letting my replacement sleep in my spot feels a little on the nose.”

“He’s not your replacement, baby.”

“Really?” Brendon asks, picking up Little Brendon and getting into bed, “because” he sniffs Little Brendon’s head, “I’m pretty sure Little Brendon is wearing my fifty dollar cologne.”

You blush, “Okay, well I take him everywhere, and I didn’t want him to smell, and it’s not like I could use any of my perfumes…” you taper off, realizing that you may have given yourself away with the ‘take him everywhere’ line.

He narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything else before clicking out the light.

“Hey, Brendon?” You ask quietly.

“Mm?”

“Um, what did you do with Little B?”

Brendon clicks on the light. “Ah-ha! J’accuse! You’ve replaced me!”

“I just don’t want the dogs to rip him up and then leave me to clean up stuffing all morning!” You defend yourself.

“Well then, you won’t mind me putting him up on the dresser.”

“Of course, I won’t mind.”

Brendon puts Little B on the dresser and goes back to bed, so imagine his surprise when instead of waking up tangled in your arms the next morning, he’s not even touching you on the king bed. Instead, you’re hugging Little Bastard with your nose buried in his fabric hair.

Little B’s smirk taunts Brendon as he storms out of bed to make his damn wife breakfast. His damn wife.

***

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you whine, rubbing your hips frantically.

“Come,” he commands. “Let me see that pretty mouth fall open as you come all over our bedsheets, pretty girl.”

The angle on your clit is perfect, and the image of him getting off on your phone right along with you pushes you into bliss, and your orgasm rocks through your core. You know you’ve affected him when you hear him grunt as come rolls down his fist.

“God, babe, you’re incredible, from a completely different country, fuck, a completely different continent, you still turn me on like crazy,” he admires.

“I could say the same about you. I came so hard just from getting to hear and see you.” You tell him before accidentally dropping your phone. “Shit, sorry, my fingers are a little wet.

Brendon would normally just be admiring the soaked panties he’s getting a glimpse of, but instead, his attention is drawn between your thighs for a different reason.

“Were you getting off by humping Little Brendon?!”

“It’s not what it looks like, okay?” You say, picking up the phone. “He’s the perfect firmness, and he’s way easier to manage than a clunky pillow! It’s purely physical!”

Brendon scoffs, “I’ve bought you thousands of dollars in sex toys, and you turn to him? In our marital bed? I’m being cuckolded by polyester!”

“Brendon, it’s a stuffed animal, not the pool boy. You come back from England in three days, and you can fuck me however you want. Y’know, because of your functioning dick, tongue, and fingers?”

“Just as long as I don’t come back to find you rimming the stuffed tiger from Calvin and Hobbes,” he teases with a smile.

“Hm, is degrading Winnie the Pooh out of the question, too, then? because if that’s the case, then I’ll need to find different plans for tomorrow evening.”

He gives you a pointed look, feigning seriousness before cracking a grin. “Alright, alright, thank you for the orgasm. I’ll see you on Tuesday,” he says before blowing you a kiss before hanging up.

“That plush better count his days,” Brendon mumbles to himself before falling asleep.

***

“Do you want me to go with you to the store?” He offers.

“No, baby, enjoy some of your time at home. I’ll just bring my other husband for emotional support.” You toss Little Brendon in your purse.

“I remember when I was your emotional support at the grocery store…” Brendon starts, looking off into the distance.

“Yeah, me too, and you were terrible. You hated it. Rest assured, I’ll make you come back to the grocery store another time, but right now, I’m being nice because you just got back from tour. And you still have the dishes and the vacuuming to do.”

“Aye, aye, captain. Don’t let the paparazzi catch you smooching Little Brendon while I’m at home doing your dirty work,” he calls as you leave.

“No promises! He’s very tempting!”

***

“You never snuggle with me anymore,” Brendon pouts after you reject his advances in bed.

“It’s August, and you’re hot,” you complain, and he gives you a suggestive look. “Not that kind of hot, Casanova. I mean two minutes in, and you’re sweating all over me. It’s uncomfortable.”

“You snuggled with Little Brendon when I was gone!” He accuses.

“Yes, because I’ve grown accustomed to sleeping with something in my arms, and Little Brendon doesn’t sweat, or snore, or wake me up in the morning with his cock pressing into my thigh, or bicker with me about how I choose to sleep,” you explain, annoyed. Brendon looks genuinely upset, so you soften your face. “When the temperature isn’t in the triple digits, and we don’t literally stick together when we touch, we can cuddle. Okay?”

“Fine.”

***

“Bogart, hey buddy, look at this toy for you to chew on. Bite, bite, bite, kill,” he says, throwing Little Brendon to Bogart.

Bogart sighs and rests his head on Little Brendon like a pillow.

“First my wife and now my dog,” Brendon shouts, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Okay, this has gone on long enough,” you tell him, alerting him to your presence in the doorframe. “Sit,” you order, pointing to the couch. “Brendon, you’re jealous of a toy,” you state bluntly.

He blushes and grabs his stuffed enemy. “It’s not about the toy,” he finally admits.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

“It’s just,” he struggles to find the right words, “I love touring. I love seeing all the different cities on my days off, meeting fans, partying with different bands, and most of all playing shows.” He takes a deep breath. “But I also love you. I love waking up with you, going out to dinner, watching you get off on my thigh, and just getting to be near you. So when I have to be away from you to tour, sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, and seeing you do the things I want to do with you with the stupid Beebo plush instead, kept bringing all of those feelings to the forefront” he confesses.

“Oh, B, of course, you made the right choice. I love you, and I miss you when you’re gone sometimes, but I love our life. I love getting my independence when you’re gone, visiting you on-tour, watching you do what you love, having super hot reunion sex. So yeah, sometimes I just wanna squeeze you and smell your cologne and kiss your little face, but I’d never want you to sacrifice your career for that,” you say. “You wanna know why I like Little B so much?”

“Because he’s so good for humping?”

“No,” you laugh, “well, yes, actually, he is. But it’s because he reminds me why I spend some nights alone and hop on dreadful red-eye flights every few weeks and have to hook up with my husband on a fucking bus. So you can put on this dumb gold jacket,” you fiddle with Little Brendon’s jacket, “and perform the songs you worked so hard on for hundreds of thousands of people, and then sell thousands of these dumb little dolls so we can live in a multi-million dollar house with a home studio and a heated pool.”

“So you’re not replacing me with the puppet doll?” He asks.

“Well, maybe a little, but sometimes you feel so intangible. Even when you’re here, I know you have other, more important obligations, so it’s nice to have something constant,” you laugh, “and I think Bogart feels the same way,” you say, pointing to the dog who is curled around his new friend protectively.

***

“You’ve created a monster!”

“Have not!”

“You were the one who gave him Little Brendon!”

Brendon’s eyes dart to the floor because you’re right.

Bogart grew attached to Little Brendon faster than you did and now gently carries the toy with him wherever he goes. If you try to reclaim Little Brendon, Bogart growls and snarls.

“It’s kind of cute, I guess. He’s protecting his daddy,” you say.

“Then it’s your fault for putting my cologne on him,” Brendon retorts.

“Ugh, fine,” you concede.

“Oh look, he’s dropped it,” Brendon points out.

At first, you think it’s a good thing, but you both recognize the look Bogart’s giving.

“Go, Bog! Get it!” Brendon cackles as the dog pounces.

“Oh no, you don’t, bad dog,” you scold, snatching the toy away. “If you wanna hump something, I think Zack’s coming over tonight, but we don’t do that to mommy’s things.”

Brendon’s still laughing his ass off, and you shoot him a dirty look. “C’mon, babe, you’ve blue-balled him,” Brendon says, pointing to the sad-looking dog.

“Bogart is fixed and doesn’t have balls, a characteristic you two will soon have in common if you don’t stop giggling like a ten-year-old,” you threaten, and he, wisely, shuts up. “That’s what I thought. And if anything, this is just vindication for me because I told you Little Brendon was good for humping, and you dismissed it,” you tell him.

“Okay, fine, there was a brief period of time when I was irrationally jealous of a toy,” he admits. “But I think you should get another taste of the real thing before you decide who’s the better lay once and for all,” Brendon says, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

“Brendon!” You lightheartedly protest in his arms.

***

You’re lying on his chest contentedly as he strokes your arm. “You wanna know what I miss the most about getting to cuddle with you when you’re touring? Something Little Brendon doesn’t give me?”

“Hm?”

“Your heartbeat. Feeling it under my head or under my palm. Especially if we’re lying together for a while. I love how it slows and steadies the longer we’re with each other. So comforting.”

***

Little Brendon is sitting on your bed with a card that says, “Squeeze me!” on the front. You squeeze the plush, and you immediately recognize Brendon’s heartbeat coming softly from the chest of the toy. You smile and pick up the card.

Hey, baby! It reads, I’m no doubt missing you on the second leg of tour right now, but if you really need some comfort, I hope this’ll do. The recording lasts about an hour, and I made sure it got down to my resting heart rate before it stops. I’m sorry for being a jealous dick about a stuffed animal, but even my possessive lizard brain wants you to have something to make you feel better if you’re ever stressed or upset. (And now that the Beebo plushies are officially for sale, you can rest easy knowing yours is special)

xoxoxo,

Brendon

[sinisterlyhan]

01. seo changbin ; 2chan / 5606 words

against the wall, dom!changbin (-ish), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, blindfolds, seven minutes in heaven but like with a twist, female reader

parts: 01 ; 02

a/n: hmm, not extremely fond of this but that’s okay 😭

it did not take much convincing for you to agree with being dragged to a house party on a busy friday night.

it has been a long, dreadful week of being assigned new deadlines and lazy colleagues, your best friend suggested that you get away from life for a little, and you agreed.

however, it did take him a whole lot of convincing to do before you agreed on joining a group of strangers—his friends, not yours—in a game of spin the bottle, one that would directly lead to the famous sex-trap called 'seven minutes in heaven.'

except it wasn't just seven minutes in heaven, it was "we won't let you two out until we hear something rumbling inside, okay?" heaven. and when you asked about the morality of such a game, the only explanation chan gave you was, "don't worry, we're all getting blindfolded so even if it gets embarrassing in there, only the people waiting outside will know, and we've all sworn to secrecy!"

"right! wow! as if that makes everything better?" you hissed to the side, glaring to the side when the group whistled and roared at a particularly pitchy squeal coming from inside the closet. you frowned, your eyes shifting to the locked wooden door. "why would you even lend your closet out to do shit like this?"

"minho can be a bit of a freak," chan said with a little shrug. when he saw your confused expression, he turned your head to the side by poking at your cheek and pointed at a man. "that one is minho–"

"i know who minho is, we all know who minho is!" you smacked his hand away, slightly annoyed that he didn't think you'd at least know the student who swept the grand price during last year's talent show without—or so he claimed—a lick of preparation.

he was popular in his department before that as well. smart, fun, good-looking, rich, and now he even dances! how fantastic; you didn't believe in god but you would still blame her for having favorites just because lee minho exists.

he looked as good as you have briefly seen him be, but this time with blushed cheeks and a constant goofy smile. he was clearly drunk; drunk enough to be crossed off the game but not drunk enough to not enjoy the obnoxious noises sounding from his guest room's closet, mixing with the loud music playing from downstairs.

"hey, you don't have to play if you don't want to," chan said after seeing your attitude. he glanced behind him at the empty bed and gestured towards it. "you can sit back, get drunk, and maybe sleep. i'll wake you up and take you home when it's over."

you licked your lower lip, your mind suddenly being flooded with the intense sound coming from behind the closed door. god, it was awkward to faintly hear someone else's intimate session, but it was even more infuriating to hear the rattling of hangers and bumping of walls because of how much it made you yearn for it.

when was the last time you had sex again? it didn’t really matter, did it? it was just a fling. it wasn’t uncomfortable but it wasn’t decent either. you’ve probably given yourself better orgasm than whoever that man was so there was no point in keeping the encounter in your head.

"you know i won't, chan," you mumbled under your breath as you watched the group return back to their incoherent card game. "i haven't had sex in months and fuck, i can't live on just using my damn vibrator."

you just needed to be fucked by someone, preferably someone who knows what they’re doing.

“woah, why didn’t you tell me about it?” chan asked, raising a brow curiously.

you pulled a face, not looking at him but instead glanced around the circle to look for a suitable candidate for your little closet rendezvous. “why would i tell you that? i’m not going to beg you to have sex with me.”

“i didn’t say you have to beg for it, although that does sound like something that’s up my alley,” he teased with a breathy giggle. “just thought i could have helped.”

you sucked in a breath, your mind wavering. chan—ahh, chan. you’ve moaned his name before, once or twice under a dark room and behind closed doors. how could you not? broad shoulders, strong arms, big chest; kind, reliable, caring—he had always given you soft, dominant vibes, and you had submitted yourself to him in your imagination.

just your imagination, of course, never in real life. he was way too out of your league, much like all of his friends in this game circle.

there was minho, whom you’ve bumped into a few times in the halls but never talked to.

sitting next to him with long blond hair was hwang hyunjin, a freshman who was rumored to go for older buddies, who appeared to also dance really well, and you’ve heard around the corners of this party to be very good with his tongue, however you’d like to take that information.

shifting downward—black shirt with bulging biceps and visible chest, comfortable sweats with the outline of his thick thighs hidden underneath. that was seo changbin. if you had to pick who you were more friendly with among chan’s attractive friend group, changbin would be your top pick. you two weren’t close, having only talked to each other out of the obligations of classes, but at least you two have talked to each other before.

“hey! you! keep your head down, we’re picking!”

you snapped out of your thoughts when chan pressed your head down so you faced the ground. you grumbled in annoyance, hitting his arm away and hearing him giggle before the room went silent besides the loud music.

you could hear minho’s clumsy footsteps walking around, trying to find his next two targets. every time he approached your area, you could feel the hair at your neck stand in anticipation, but your mind would try to fend against the excitement and hammer your chest with a slight hint of fear, making you both wanting to be picked and didn’t want to be noticed.

the good side was that you might finally have sex. the bad side was that (a) you wouldn’t know who you were gonna be doing it with, and (b) everyone in the circle was more attractive than you, and you would be putting people at a disadvantage that they might have to have sex with you.

you suppressed a gasp when minho stopped behind you and gently tied a silk scarf around your head. it did not have too full of a coverage unlike what you had expected. somehow you thought minho would have better blindfolds than whatever it was he wrapped around your eyes. but you could still faintly see the blurs of the outside world if you squint hard enough.

he giggled when you stumbled to stand up, seemingly able to sense your nervousness but he has definitely mistaken it to be the anxiety of not knowing where he was bringing you toward instead of the fact that you were literally picked to get it on with a stranger in an even stranger location.

he guided you around a space, possibly around the group of unpicked people seated on the ground  before he stopped. you felt his body move behind you, gesturing toward somebody else before he then leaned close to your ear to whisper, “oh, you are going to enjoy this one. he is good.”

alright, your possibility wasn’t narrowed down by a lot but at least you knew you would be fucking a man in his closet.

footsteps shuffled towards you and stopped. you could feel a presence next to you now that you were forced to pay more attention to your other senses, and before you had much time to think about who the person could you, both of you were shoved into the closer. the door slammed behind you both with minho’s obnoxious laughter, the last visible ray of light going off when the door was sealed and locked.

the room was dark and almost quiet. you could still hear the music from outside and the soft breathing of your partner, but you suspected that was only because you were rid of your sight, and therefore, your attention needed to divert itself to somewhere else. the room was completely dark, though, and if you were able to faintly see something before, you could not see a single thing now.

changbin licked his lower lip at the silence. he looked around despite the blackness and he was completely unsure of what he should do.

he never planned to join this stupid game until minho proposed that they play a mini-game between the four of them, or the three of them now that minho was out of the race. the mini-game was just your typical race game—whoever sounded like they had the best sex wins, or whoever can make their partner scream the loudest would win. three hundred dollars for the winner, one hundred from each of them.

there was that. he was okay with that, both for the money and for the sex since he was lacking in—and greedy for—both, frankly speaking. however, changbin didn’t plan to act on it unless he could make sure his partner was on the same page with him.

he wouldn’t tell them about the game, nor would he try and cheat his way to the top because of how sensitive minho was to sounds, especially lewd ones, jeez.

therefore, he planned to just make sure he had the green light before he would make a move, but that was the problem: how was he supposed to just ask for permission without feeling awkward about not seeing each other?

mustering up the courage, he took a big step forward and reached his hand out in hopes to feel his surroundings and access where his partner was. but immediately, almost as if the gods have heard his concern, his palm was met with a soft, plump surface and his ears were met with a surprised yelp.

changbin took a small step back, startled. “oh shit–i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to–well, actually, i did mean to do that but not in that way,” he said, fumbling about with his hands in the air before he held them to his chest with a pout of embarrassment.

you were stunned on your spot when you hard his voice. your hand was pressed against your breast, the one that was accidentally cupped a moment ago, and heat grew along your neck like vines upon the realization that not only did your partner actually planned to get it going in the closet, he wasn’t just anybody in the circle.

your partner was seo changbin. big arms, big thighs, big chest, gorgeous seo changbin, who minho told you was good at this.

“it’s fine,” you mumbled, trying to find your way back to him because despite your logic screaming at you to stand on your moral ground and not hook up with an almost stranger, you still wanted to be felt up, you wanted to be kissed, and oh god, you wanted to be fucked so badly.

“wait, so you… you’re okay with this?” changbin asked after hearing your mumble. his head moved around, cranking his neck to look at all directions when he heard the shuffling of your feet.

“don’t you think i would have left already if i have a problem with this?” you laughed, slowly advancing with both arms out, your fingers wriggling in a grabby motion.

the closet was small, yet somehow you two seemed to keep missing each other by an inch. it was until your arm casually swiped to the side when you finally found him, your hand hitting the back of changbin’s neck with a harsh jab. a small groan of pain left him as he turned around and quickly grabbed onto your wrist, pulling you closer to him in one swift motion before you lose each other again.

“point taken,” changbin whispered, leaning his face close but stopping just when he felt like his lips were about to touch your skin.

you felt his breath on your face, overwhelmingly hot and close. his hands had steadied your posture before they roamed down to your waist, feeling your curve up before resting on your sides. when you replied to him with silence, changbin took it as a cue to make a move, and he did so quickly by dipping his head down in hopes to find your lips.

you let out a faint, purse-lipped moan when his nose nudged against your jaw and his full lips found your neck instead. hearing your little sound of agreement, the cloud of doubt vanished quickly in his head and he finally got himself the motivation to keep going with his advances. he planted a trail of kisses down your neck before he found himself a spot to suck out a hickey.

you gasped, feeling the tingle of pain from his teeth, but you relaxed quickly when his tongue flicked over the spot to soothe out the sensation. you pouted a little then, wanting more than feeling his plump lips on your neck, so you tilted your head and leaned down to nudge your cheek with his. you pushed him just enough for him to perk his head up, and navigating solely by imagination, you pressed your lips to any surface you could find.

it was his cheek first, and it was the side of his nose, then you could feel the tip of his nose and down to his cupid’s bow. it was messy yet there was a sort of appeal in your clumsily leaving wet kisses around his face, changbin thought. and when you finally made it to his lips, it felt none other than worth it.

his tasted of faint alcohol and he smelt a little bit of smoke. you didn’t particularly hate it, and even if you did, it wasn’t like you could stop yourself from kissing him; your lips, on the other hand, tasted of cherry chapsticks and fruit punch, sugary and sweet in a way that only made changbin wanted more.

and he shamelessly looked for more, moving from kissing your lips to smooching your skin. everything changbin did to you had left you with a shaky exhale and a tremor in your heart. besides him, the blindfold was also doing absolute wonders to your senses. not only was it new and unfamiliar in the most exhilarating way, but it also forced you to rely on your other senses completely. you had to feel, hear, and smell everything he was doing to you.

the way his fingers squeezed at your waist, the way his lips turned upwards whenever you breathed out a content moan, the way his chest heaved against yours as you two started to pant at the lack of oxygen, his deep and sultry voice when he groaned, the way his hand occasionally moved down to your ass and—a gasp!

you held tightly onto his arms as your eyes widened at the feeling of his hard-on against the front of your pants. his palm pushed against your ass, bringing you towards him every time he grind against you mindlessly to feel more friction under his sweats, his moans being suffocated by your mouth as you continued to reciprocate the heated kiss that kept getting messier and messier by the second.

you were stumbling back at the force, your knees stuttering weakly at the exciting feeling of his clothed cock rubbing against the wet patch growing on under your denim pants. fuck, you could feel him, like really feel him. you hissed every time his tip poked against your clothed clit and whenever his shaft pressed against your slit. it was thorough, hard, and slow; it almost felt like you could guess his length and his girth just from the way he was dry humping against you.

it wasn’t long before your back hit something. a wall? a door? you didn’t really care, you just knew you wanted seo changbin, in whichever way possible, be it having him in your hands, your mouth, or between your legs. you just wanted to feel him, so after letting him pin you to the wall and kiss you with that fervent energy you prayed to god would stay until he was finished with you, you pulled away.

it was a swift movement, changbin wasn’t even able to comprehend what was happening. a quick whine huffed past his lips at the loss of your warmth before you turned him around and pushed him to the door. he let you, feeling both the faint ache on his back from brushing against the doorknob and the sweetness of your lips when you started to kiss him again.

as he planned to re-establish his dominance in this dark, dark closet, you got him wrapped around your fingertips again by moving your hand downwards and palming his member. he bit your lower lip, his hand gripping your waist to pull you closer. “fuck, stop teasing me–mmm,” he grumbled under his breath after pulling away, a hefty moan leaving his lips when you grabbed his length and stroked it through the fabric.

“you need to learn how to be patient.” you giggled as you took a step back so you could kneel before him, your hands sliding down his frame to steady yourself as you did so.

your hands moved to the waistband of his sweats before you pulled it down carefully, letting it drop to the ground with an inaudible thud. you thought this would be bad, in a sense that this might be a little awkward for you since you couldn’t exactly tell where anything was. everything you did was a blind assumption, from you running your hands up this bare thighs to fumbling around looking for the waist of his boxers.

but it wasn’t bad, it had turned out to be the exact opposite.

you were excited, both from being able to do such filthy act after a long dry spell and from the fact that you were about to suck changbin off out of everybody. he wasn’t just any random person in the party, he was the man who you’ve occasionally stared at during boring lectures, the man who you would never admit to ever having midnight fantasies about, the man who would probably never consider you to be a suitable partner if he could see clearly with his eyes.

he’s seo changbin.

“oh! oops, okay,” you whispered under your breath after the surprised yelp. you had miscalculated the proximity of your face to his body and the second you brought his boxers down to his ankles, his cock had flung out and brushed across your chin energetically.

bringing your hand back up to his skin, rubbing along his inner thighs before they finally made their way to his groin. your hands fumbled, delicate fingers curling around the base of his dick and hearing him hiss from above you. changbin was being impatient, as he had appeared to be for the past minute, and the second he felt the skin-to-skin contact, he tried to thrust forward into your hand for any type of movement.

fuck, how he wished he could see you right now, whoever you were. but, as much as he would kill to see your plump lips around his cock, the blindfold was serving him phenomenally. he wouldn’t switch it for the world, it seemed; he could feel it all vividly, the blood rushing to his leaking tip as you pumped it a few times, the slight graze of your nails where your fingers met each other at the end a god-sent sensation to him.

and when you eventually gave in and wrapped your lips around the sensitive bud, the softness of your tongue etching to his cock like a sharp needle to a piece of delicate fabric—poking his senses, sending tingles through his body, leaving his mind aching for more.

you bobbed your head forward and back, your eyes shut blind to taste the bitterness of his pre-cum and to drown in the suffocating feeling of his shaft poking your throat as you took all of him in your mouth. his hand flew to your hair, clutching a fistful of them and pulling at your scalp to keep you moving; you whined at the pain, he moaned at the stimulation. your hands rubbed along his flexed muscles, squeezing them greedily.

it was an array of sensations, both touch and sound, twisting and turning in your brain that you could barely catch up. but it was exactly the overwhelming rush of it that made you enjoy it so much.

“ahh, fuck, fuck–“ changbin cried out, his movement on your head stuttering when he felt his cock twitching inside your mouth.

and while it would be a dream to release in your mouth, he knew you both didn’t have as much time as he would hope. sooner or later someone impatient for their turn would come banging on the door. with that thought in mind, he quickly pulled out of you and pulled you up by cupping his hand at the back of your neck. navigating with his grip, he brought you to his face to kiss you, faintly tasting himself on your tongue and absolutely loving the taste of it.

he turned you around and slammed you against the door, apologizing with a quiet mutter when you groaned in pain. not that you quite minded the hammering in your head when his hands were busy fumbling with the zipper of your pants just to pull it off. and changbin wasted no time to press his fingers against your clothed heat, his finger sticking into your hole along with the fabric to make the wet patch even wetter and stickier.

“shit–are you gonna fuck me or not?” you asked, bucking your hips into his fingers as your chest jumped with each limited pump of his fingers, annoyed that his movement was held back by your panties.

“you need to learn how to be patient, baby.” changbin smirked as he mumbled down your neck, finally pulling his fingers away so he could tug your panties to the side and fully insert his digit inside. his smirk widened when you moaned, one leg moving up in instinctive response. his hand caught your thigh in time, and he brought it around his hip to move closer to you. his positioned himself at your entrance, lathering up the leaking essence before he teasingly poked the tip inside a little.

you whined when he stopped moving, your hands gripping his arms urgently as you let out soft needy whispers. changbin could feel you pull him towards you, a sign that you were still comfortable with this and you were not patient enough to wait for him to enter. neither was he patient enough to stall around, really. just the mere feeling of your wetness around his tip was driving him over the edge. he had only stopped in hopes to make sure you were okay, and it seemed that you were enthusiastic about this.

you held your breath when he pushed himself into you, his girth giving you an amazing stretch. you couldn’t be bother being surprised when he suddenly slammed a hand next to your head, his broad chest pressing up against yours as he got lost in the feeling of your tightness. a hiss sounded around your ear, changbin’s hand reaching down to push you against the wall to keep your in place before they quickly moved down to your thigh.

“up,” he commanded in a whisper.

you hopped as he told you to and he bent down to catch your legs in his arms. he pushed your back further against the door at the new position, feeling the back of your feet nudging at his side and your arms closing in around his neck. you brought his face close to yours, messily meeting his cheeks and his nose before your lips found each other again.

skin slapped against each other hotly as changbin rolled his hips into yours then, pressing your bones up against the concrete and pushing you upwards with each desperate thrust, all the while you clenched yourself around him as the soreness built up beneath your hips.

you kissed down his jaw then, returning the favor as much as you could by planting harsh kisses along his neck and his exposed shoulders. you bit onto his collarbone to leave a mark, earning a groan and a squeeze on your thigh from him. he unconsciously started to thrust harder upon the pleasurable trails you were leaving on his skin, finding the mixture of your hot breaths and the squelching sounds a very special kind of motivation for him to keep going harder.

“oh–fuck–right there, changbin!” you shamelessly screamed when his tip punctured through your sweet spot. your reaction was strong as the unexpected pleasure flew through your veins, your attention directing towards the movement down below.

and changbin could tell he found your g-spot just by the way your walls suddenly squeezed around him, the sensation so wavering and euphoric that he could barely respond to the abrupt idea that you knew who he was. not to mention how triumphant it made him feel to hear you scream his name, the ego-boost straight to his chest when he imagined the people outside listening to his name being rambled lewdly again and again.

“you like it here, hmm?” he grunted close to your face. he wasn’t sure where, but he could feel your breath closely against his so he assumed if he leaned a little closer he’d touch your mouth. 

when he received no response from you, he pushed himself into you and shoved you against the door with a strong crash, his hand moving from your thigh when you were trapped tight between the door and his body to grip your jaw.

the slam buried his cock deep inside your cunt, the rough thrust making you whine out louder than when he suddenly stopped to grab your face in his hand. he huffed teasingly down your neck, the tip of his nose brushing past the hair of your skin before he stopped.

“i asked you a question, bitch,” he said through gritted teeth, the vibration of his growling voice slicing through your skin and making you whimper. “if you want it there, you better fucking beg for it.”

god, this discovery was like a revelation. it was a side of him you have never seen before since he had always been rather soft-spoken when you talked to him. but somehow you have always imagined changbin to be one to act rough during sex, mostly due to your preferences in a sexual partner. and damn, has he surprised you with this, both his stamina and his strength and, oh, his cock.

everything about him was absolutely heavenly, and you will beg for it, the same way you’ve been asking for it in your own time before.

“plea–“ a whimper cut you off when he faintly pulled out and shoved back into you sharply. pants got mixed in with your words as you squeezed your eyes shut, the joyous pain of his hand gripping your skin and the hot pouring liquid gathering in your abdomen overpowering your senses. you needed him to move, you needed changbin to help you chase your long-awaited release. “please fuck me, changbin, please.”

there was silence in the closet. the only sound reverberating through his ears were you panting out his name and asking him to wreak you up against the closet door, your voice dripping with the taste of velvet wine, hoarse from the whines and dreamy from the kisses. those were all the words changbin needed for his confidence to fly off the rails and off to space; it had no plan to get back down until he finishes both of you off.

you got pushed up against the door, your back scratching against the wall as changbin started to pound into you. you grabbed onto his arms to steady yourself at the force, not forgetting to tilt your head to give him access to your neck. his lips pressed against your skin and his cock rubbing against your walls—it was good, too good.

this was a hook-up you would be thinking about for a really long time until someone better comes along and wrecks his standards for you, and really, you doubt that man would come along anytime sooner to take changbin’s crown.

“changbin–changbin–shit, changbin–“

oh god, has he fucked you dumb? you couldn’t say anything else other than his name! his lips quirked up at that, finding it almost hilarious how with each puncture of his hips, your voice magnifies a little with his name hanging off your tongue.

“aww, i know.” he faked a pout, picking up his pace and ramming into your sweet spot. “be a good girl and come for me, hmm?”

perhaps it was the lack of daily compliments you receive from people, but something about him calling you a ‘good girl’ just got your heart all shivered up, and the rather tender soft but dirty command got you coming undone around his dick with a final cry of his name, the sticky liquid slipping through your hole and dripping out through the gaps.

changbin groaned under his breath, feeling his movement falter gradually as he continued to thrust into you to chase his own high. his hands found your face before he could lose his head and he leaned close to you, his voice soft when he asked, “can i finish off inside you?”

you heaved a sigh, wanting to retort with a witty reply but also finding it so appealing to have his cum all warm and stuffed up inside your pussy. you gave him a faint nod, closing your arms around his frame. “yes, please.”

you didn’t have to ask him so politely like that but changbin wasn’t complaining about it. with one final push, the friction sent him over the edge and he released himself inside you. a long, heavy exhale left his lips then, his head thrown back when he was finally able to relieve himself of the tension cooped up at the tip.

for a moment after everything was done, it was just the warmth shared between the two of you and the heavy breathes that resonated among the air. the tingling sensation of your essence dripping down your cunt gave you was almost ticklish, and the hot skin of changbin’s biceps a handle you never wanted to let go of. your legs were shaking slightly from the aftermath, and changbin was running his thumb in a circular motion to soothe you down as best as he could.

“that… wow,” you said, a small huff of laughter bubbling up your lips.

“thank you,” he mumbled with a smile. “you weren’t so bad yourself… with the blowjob, if you know what i mean.”

“thank you.” you giggled. “and you’re welcome.”

changbin scoffed a little as he put you down on the ground. as if on cue, someone from outside banged on the door, and minho’s voice rang through with a threat to expose your naked bodies if you two don’t head back outside. you and changbin immediately scrambled for your pants, laughing slightly when he threw a mindless insult at his friend.

“okay, there we go.” you zipped up your pants and slowly made your way towards the door. but before you could give it a knock for the people outside to release you, changbin stopped you by putting a hand on the small of your back and moving close to you.

“hold on,” he said in faint disbelief, a hint of urgency in his voice when he felt your presence ready to leave his side. “you’re not walking out of here without telling me your name, are you?”

ah, you almost forgot about your hidden identity. pursing your lips, you contemplated the idea of revealing yourself to him. the whole reason why this encounter managed to happen so smoothly was because of the blindfold hiding you from him; what if he didn’t like you after realizing that you were just some plain jane in a few of his classes? would you be able to hand that kind of humiliation and disappointment?

the way it hit you so quickly, all of a sudden, that the man standing in front of you was still seo changbin, someone far too out of your league.

“you…” you licked your lower lip with an inhale, then you knocked on the door. “you don’t need to know my name.”

oh, but changbin does. he wasn’t exactly sure why he was so hung up on you. what he planned to just be a one-time encounter had manifested into something bigger, his chest storing up the longing for an unknown person through the sugary kisses you’ve left on his lips and the sweet tightness you’ve engulfed around his cock.

changbin has to know your name, and he planned to find out.

[writer-k-pop]

Your Sister’s Keeper

여기 있고 어딘가에서 길을 잃지 않는 것이 좋다. It’s better that she’s here and not lost somewhere.

Description: Over the duration of your relationship with Vernon, his sister, Sofia, and you have become quite close. Close enough that in a time of need, she calls for you, not Vernon. Warnings: Mentions of cheating and swearing Genre: Angst? BF!Vernon x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.9k

Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists

"Yes, mom," I roll my eyes, still facing the wall. "I will. I'll call Grandma later."  I glance back at Vernon who is patiently waiting just a few feet away at the entrance of the company party. Other guests keep entering the venue, their suits tailored to perfection and their dresses emphasizing all the right parts. I catch his gaze and I throw an apologetic look to him.

"Mom, mom." I say to her to get her attention so she stops talking, "I have to go. I will call you and Grandma later."

"Alright. Have fun with Vernon." My mom says goodbye and then hangs up.

I end the call and turn towards Vernon as I put my phone back in my purse. Just as the phone is fully inside, it vibrates with another incoming call. Without looking at the caller ID, I answer.

"Mom, I told you-"

"(y/n)?" Sofia's voice stops me in my tracks, "Don't say my name. I know you're with my brother and he can't know." Then she sniffles.

I turn away from Vernon's line of sight, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

She sniffles again and I can tell she's trying hard not to completely lose it. "Uhm, not really. Can-Can I come over?"

I glance up towards the ceiling, "I mean, I'm not home right now but I can be in like 10 minutes." I offer, internally regretting the lie I'm going to have to tell Vernon.

"I'm already here, can I just go inside?" She sniffles some more.

I find myself nodding though she can't see me, "Yeah, yeah, of course. The passcode is the same and there's some leftovers in the fridge if you need them."

"Th-thank you." She stutters and I hear the elevator ding in the background.

"I'll be there soon. Just hold on." I tell her, refraining from using her name, then we hang up. As I turn back towards Vernon, he walks towards me with a look of concern etched into his face.

"What's wrong?" He asks, reaching me.

I take a deep breath and spit out a lie, "I have to go, Vernon. My friend is having a really bad time and she's already at my apartment."

Vernon's face slowly switches to concern about my "friend."

"Yeah, yeah, go. If they need you go. I can go alone, it's fine." Vernon states and squeezes my shoulder. "Just let me know when you get home and update me."

I give him a small smile and nod, "I will. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just go." He smiles warmly and gently pushes me towards the exits.

Feeling terrible for lying but knowing his sister is on the brink of a break down at my apartment, I pick up the skirt of my dress and walk outside. Once I flag down a taxi and hop in the backseat, I tell the driver my address and send Sofia an "on my way" text.

Watching the streetlights pass, I fiddle with the sleeves of my dress as I wonder what is happening with Sofia. As the taxi slows outside my building, I pay him and quickly shuffle out of the car and up to my apartment. I have to stop a few times to collect parts of my dress that decide not to stay in my hands.

I punch in my passcode at the speed of lightening and throw the door open.

"Sofia?" I call out into my still dark apartment.

"Here." Her meek voice whispers from my bedroom.

When I walk in, Sofia's sat against my headboard with my extra fuzzy blanket wrapped tightly around her. I quickly walk over to her and envelope her in a hug. She leans into my chest and I feel her shoulders sink.

"It's okay, I'm here now." I reassure her, "Let me get out of this dress and then we can talk." She silently nods and straightens up allowing me to head to my closet.

"Where were you?" Sofia quietly asks, glancing at my dress.

"I was accompanying your brother for some company end of year party." I inform her, slipping the dress off my body.

"What did you tell him?" She questions me, worriedly.

I shake my head, "I didn't tell him anything. I only said that one of my friends was having a really bad day and needed me immediately. Which wasn't exactly a lie."

"He would believe something like that." Sofia jokes lightly.

"Gives us the advantage." I reply, leaving the dress on the floor and changing into sweats and a sweatshirt.

Climbing back into bed, I take her back in my arms and sigh into her hair.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask after a few seconds of silence.

She shakes her, "Not yet."

I nod and continue to hold her while she begins to let her tears out. We sit in silence as she cries and I do my best to nonverbally tell her that I'm here and that everything will be okay. My heart breaks with every labored breath she takes in. I begin to wonder what has made her this upset and slowly the anger also rises. How could anyone do something so horrible to such a lovely girl?

"C-can I have some water?" Sofia hiccups.

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be right back." I tell her and scoot off the bed. After filling a glass, I head back to the bed and guide the glass into her hands.

"Thanks." She says after gulping down some.

"So, tell me what's goin' on." I sit in front of her.

She glances down, "I, I saw Ryan kissing another girl."

I suck in a breath and my eyes widen in shock.  "Wha- what happened?" I feel the shock punch me in the gut.

"I, I was going to pick him up from his work and surprise him but," Sofia takes in a deep breath, "I got across the street and he walks out with some girl and then kisses her. Right out in the open." Fresh tears make their way down her cheeks and I do my best to wipe them away but they keep falling. "And I couldn't even move. I didn't even know my feet were moving until I was at your building door. And, and, (y/n) it feels like my heart is being crushed by a million bricks and-"

I wrap her up tighter and rub her arm, "It'll be okay. Just keep breathing with me, yeah?"

"He just, right out in the open. For anyone to see." She sputters out, "Like he didn't care if one of my friends saw. Like he,  ugh what a, what a piece of trash."

"He doesn't know you know?" I wonder, staring at my blank wall.

Sofia shakes her head, "I was too shocked to do anything but walk away." She grabs the hem of my shirt in her fist, "I can't believe I actually fell for him. Why didn't I see it before? He's sleazy and awful and what kind of man cheats?"

"He's not a man." I answer her, "A real man doesn't cheat. A real man is loyal and responsible."

"He's not a real man." Sofia mumbles, her tears quietly ever so slightly but not stopping.

We sit together on my bed long enough for the moon to travel quite a distance in the sky. During that time, I run through all the possible things I would do the boy who hurt Sofia while her cries quiet down.

"I'm kind of hungry." She sniffles, readjusting to sit up.

"Did you not eat dinner?" I look at her and she simply shakes her head. Simultaneously I'm reminded that I also haven't eaten.

"I planned on getting dinner with h-him but well... that didn't happen." She explains and I quickly jump off the bed.

"What do you want?" I ask her.

"Something warm." She replies with a small smile that must've taken her a lot of strength.

I nod, "I'll heat up some left over warm chicken soup. And then we can watch movies until either the suns comes up or our eyes droop all on their own."

I make my way to the kitchen and pull out the containers from the fridge. As I pour the soup into a pot, my bedroom door creaks open. I look up to see Sofia peeking out with the blanket resting on her head.

"The room got lonely." She explains. I smile softly and motion for her to sit.

"You are always welcome to join me wherever I am." I reassure her.

Sofia hiccups.

"Do you want a change of clothes?" I question, turning to turn on the heat underneath the pot, "You're probably going to stay the night anyway."

She nods, "That'd probably be more comfy."

I point to my door, "Extra pajamas should be in the middle drawer of the dresser closest to the bedroom doo-"

The doorbell cuts me off. Confused, I walk over to the little screen that shows me who's ringing my door bell. Vernon stands in front of my door, his hands stuffed into his pockets and lips pursed, patiently and anxiously waiting for me to answer.

"Sofia, go into my room and get changed. I'll try to get him to leave." I look to her and she immediately runs into my bedroom, closing the door securely behind her.

Once I hear the definite click, I walk over and open the door halfway.

"Hey." I smile, sticking my head into the space.

"Hey." Vernon smiles, "Everything okay? How's your friend?" He asks.

He's still in his attire for the company party but he's undone his tie and a few buttons of his shirt.

I nod, "She's in pretty bad shape now but she'll be okay."

"I just wanted to check on you cause you never texted me." Vernon explains his visit and I mentally facepalm myself.

"Sorry about that. I mean I got home and well, yeah. It's been a little crazy. Sorry." I apologize again.

Vernon shakes his head, "Don't be. You've been helping a friend and that's admira..ble..." He trails off as his gaze moves past me. "Are those Sofia's shoes?" He points towards the ground.

I turn my head and spot her favorite pair of tennis shoes. They're her favorite because Vernon custom made them for her birthday last year. She wears them everywhere.

"Is Sofia here?" Vernon's tone suddenly turns concerned. "Is she the pers- Sofia!" He pushes the door open and rams past me. "Sofia!"

"Vernon." I rest a hand on his shoulder. "Stop."

"My sister called you and you lied to me about it?" He turns towards me in bewilderment.

"Vernon." I repeat his name but he doesn't let me talk further.

"Why would you lie to me about it?" He questions, "It's my sister. My baby sister." His voice begins to rise in volume, "Why you and why not call me?"

I grab both of his shoulders tightly, "Because some subjects are best left to discuss between girls and not her older brother. At least not right away." He rests his hand over one of mine and sighs. "Just trust me when I say that she's here and she'll be okay."

"What happened?" Vernon asks, his eyes pleading with me.

"I can't tell you. It's not my place to tell." I shake my head in small motions. "When she's ready, she'll tell you but right now, this was the only place she could think of to come. And I don't know about you, Vern, but I'm glad she chose here over anywhere else."

Vernon nods in agreement and takes a deep breath to calm himself, "You're right. It's better that she's here and not lost somewhere."

"She's safe here. I'll make sure of it. But for now, it's probably not the best for you to be here." I hate that I have to say it but it's not entirely false. "Just make sure you're not too far away. She's going to need her big brother sooner rather than later."

He gives my hand a squeeze and presses a kiss to my forehead. "You'll call me with updates?"

I nod, "I promise. You'll know when I know."

"Just," Vernon looks around at the ground unsure of how exactly to put it, "Just remind her that I'm here if she needs me."

"I do." Sofia chokes back a sob and in an instant Vernon has her wrapped in his arms. A new wave of tears wets his shirt as her grip on him tightens. "What am I going to do?" She cries into his chest. I can see Vernon's heart break with every word and I can feel mine break just the same.

"What's going on? Can you tell me that?" He pulls back slightly to look at her pained face but quickly wraps her up again. Pulling her towards the couch, he tries to get the story out of her while also comforting him. I, on the other hand, continue to stir the pot of chicken soup in the kitchen.

I listen to her choke out the story again and I constantly switch from stirring to watching Vernon's face for any movement.

Once Sofia is done reciting, Vernon runs a hand over his face and lets out a frustrated sigh. "Asshole." He mutters. "And he doesn't know that you know?" He questions to which Sofia shakes her head. "I should go murder him. He's an awful human being who- ugh, just wait until I get my hands on him." He angrily rants leaving me in a bit of a shock because I haven't ever seen him this riled up. Though it makes sense. It is his little sister after all.

"What am I going to do, Vernon?" Sofia asks looking up at him.

Vernon takes a breath to collect himself before answering. "Well, first of all, you are going to break it off with him. You don't need a lying and cheating boy. You deserve a much better person, a real man."

"What comes after that?" Sofia questions.

"After that..." Vernon pauses then looks to me for help finishing the plan.

"After that," I repeat and walk over to sit on the coffee table in front of Sofia, "You are going to heal and you are going to get better. You are going to live your life to the fullest and make him realize what a terrible mistake he made by cheating on you. Then even if he comes back asking for a second chance, you'll have the strength to simply smile at him and walk away."

Sofia sniffles and wipes her eyes. "I will?"

"You will." Vernon confirms.

"But I feel like shit." She pouts, fresh tears glistening in her eyes.

"Just for now." I quickly remind her, "That's normal. Completely and absolutely normal. But soon, you will start to feel better."

"And mom, dad, (y/n), your friends, and I will all be there every step of the way." Vernon continues and Sofia nods in understanding.

I pat her knee, "Let's get us some food. I'm sure that might help a little."

Vernon gave me a look of surprise, "You guys haven't eaten?"

I shrug, "Like I said, it got a little crazy when I got home. Do you want any?" I ask him as I walk towards the kitchen but he shakes his head.

"I'm still full from the party." He answers.

I pull out two bowls from the cabinet and fill them both with steaming soup. Picking up two spoons and the two bowls, I make my way back to the living room and set the bowls down on the coffee table.

Sitting on the floor, I begin eating, my eyes never straying from signs that Sofia might need something else. Vernon helps Sofia sip the soup and slowly she starts to eat with more energy.

"You don't have to help me." She mutters, finally taking the bowl from Vernon's hands.

Vernon shrugs, "I want to."

Once the soup is finished, Sofia's eyes refuse to stay open and Vernon carries her into my bed while I sort out the dishes. Just as I set the pot on the drying rack, Vernon walks back out, closing the bedroom door behind him.

"Alright, where does this prick of an ass live?" Vernon half-whispers, half-yells, his palms pressed into the countertop.

I dry my hands, "She needs you here. Not looking to beat up some boy who's not worth your time." I tell him.

"She'll be okay, right?" Vernon suddenly asks, his shoulders drooping deeply.

Throwing the towel somewhere near the sink, I walk behind him and hug his waist. "She will be. I don't know when but I know she will be."

Vernon turns around and clasps his hands behind my back, "Thank you." He kisses the top of my head.

I let out a tiny chuckle, "You don't have to thank me. If it were my sibling, you would've done the same."

"True, but still, thank you." He squeezes my body to emphasize his point.

"You're welcome." I turn my head and glance at the clock. "We should probably go to sleep too." I pull away and bring out one of the many extra blankets I have, "You take the bed with Sofia, I'll take the couch." [For those who think siblings sleeping in the same bed is weird: fight me.]

"Are you sure?" Vernon asks, worried that I won't sleep well.

"I'm sure. She needs you more than I do tonight." I reassure him.

He walks over, wraps me another tight hug, then presses a kiss to my lips which I reciprocate.

"Goodnight." He rests his forehead on mine for a second.

"Goodnight."

[eutaerpe]

the escapades (m)

pairing — jimin x reader

genre/warnings—  smut (oral, fingering, orgasm denial) & college!au, fratboy!jimin, brief e2l, brief ewb, acr universe

summary —  the one where there’s a lot of unresolved sexual tension, until there isn’t.

notes — 8.3k words of the happiness before the storm i couldn’t write. i realised halfway through this there’s a slight plotwise change in comparison to what i wrote in acr so. yeah. sorry. kudos to you if you find it lol

The first time it happens, you’re pretending to be someone you’re not.

You’re sitting near the end of the table, crossing your legs and playing with the hem of your dress, your lips twisted into a frown. The real reason lying behind the simple decision of having a single, almost infinite table of guests doesn’t, in the slightest, cross your mind; why your idiotic brother would see this as a delightful idea really is above you, but you suppose the valuable genes in the family runs all in your DNA.

You’re playing with the table decorations while waiting for the guests to come, and it’s so fucking boring you regret telling Seulgi no, babe, what the fuck - you even shook your head and decided to sound extra mad at the idea - I won’t sneak in weed.

Too bad for you, she had answered, a cute pout on her lips, I’ll give you an hour before you’re bored out of your mind.

The truth hangs above your head, with a sheepish grin: you just needed ten minutes to be absolutely, drastically bored.

In hindsight, sneaking in weed wouldn’t have been the worst idea: your mother is talking to the in laws, gesticulating excitedly at the idea of kids right after marriage. What the fuck, you text Seulgi, at home trying to get out of bed, my brother has been married for an hour and there’s already baby talk going on at the table.

 Seulgi

[12.49]

With the baby talk comes the dick talk

 You

[12.49]

Oh no the dick talk

 Seulgi

[12.50]

man how can you survive your relatives talking about nonexistent boyfriends without my weed, damn???

 You

[12.50]

option a: I’ll tell them I’m dating you

 Seulgi

[12.50]

we kissed ONE time

 You

[12.50]

option b: I’ll tell them I’m in a relationship with Jeon jungkook

 Seulgi

[12.50]

bitch we both know you’re not in a relationship with the hottest guy on campus. he has dimples and long hair and piercings. my sources can even confirm he has a big dick. what do U Have

 You

[12.51]

i was talking about my vibrator but go off lmao

anyway I’ve had that D ;)

 Seulgi

[12.51]

you’re officially cancelled

when did this happen? I can’t believe you’re telling me over text!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 You

[12.51]

last semester!!!!! why do you think I’ve named my vib after him!!!!!!

 Seulgi

[12.52]

because you’re lusting after him like the rest of us mortals!!!!!!!!!!

 You

[12.52]

I’ve upgraded since then. I’ve leveled up. I’ve seen things People Can’t Even Imagine

 Seulgi

[12.52]

just say he got u off and go

 You

[12.52]

;p

anyway option c: I scare them away by saying controversial things. Id est: I don’t believe in love. I am choosing my partner solely judging their abilities to finger me under a table when people are around. I am secretly lusting after my brother’s wife. I am trying to get impregnated like in The Sims 2 aka I am waiting for that alien dick.

 Seulgi

[12.52]

hate to break it to you babe but that’s literally who you are

 You

[12.52]

i

I literally compliment joohyun’s boobs once and this is the treatment I get

 Seulgi

[12.52]

are we not gonna talk about your alien dick kink

 You

[12.52]

no kink shaming in this house lady

option d: I listen to their complaints and run

 Seulgi

[12.53]

option dick

man sorry I meant option d

 You

[12.53]

you didn’t

 Seulgi

[12.54]

ur right I didn’t

 Option e, also known as I’ll entertain the other guests so I don’t have to talk to you, presents itself in the form of one very hot, very ripped young man sporting the most expensive shirt in the room. You’re only human when you admit to yourself, mental sigh, that he ticked all the let’s get y/n horny requirements in less than fifteen seconds.

You can’t believe Joohyun has kept him hidden for so long from you. Such betrayal ends when your brother, Kim fucking Seokjin, hugs him tight and brushes with utter affection the nape of his neck, gracing him with a warm smile and a heartfelt laugh.

You can’t believe Seokjin has kept him hidden for so long from you.

Well. Scratch that. You can.

Suddenly, the ticked requirements disappear and a giant neon sentence with a very cheap background music impose themselves in your head. WHAT A TURN OFF! they read, the neon red words mocking you; you steal a glance at your brother’s acquaintance one more time - one last time - before slipping your phone in your hands and dedicating yourself one more time at your Instagram feed, scrolling through the most recent pics.

(You stumble upon an extremely rare Jungkook selfie, and you hate to admit you spend the following thirty seconds admiring him before tapping twice on the quality content you’ve signed up for when you joined the social)

You suppose that, even though your brother’s friends with fuckboy tendencies are signed off your let’s get to know each other better ;) list, it doesn’t mean the same goes for them.

So, when the dark-haired young man with a jawline sharper than Seulgi’s retorts after her third beer sits next to you, you reckon you shouldn’t be that surprised.

He acts all casual, you notice while discreetly looking at him; he’s busy taking off his jacket and flexing his muscles, all of this while pretending not to notice you, and you find it immensely cute.

Ah, fuckboys.

“Fuck,” he rasps, lips twisted in a crooked smile, “I didn’t think it would be this hot today.”

“Yeah, sorry, the heat is on me.”

He chuckles in disbelief at your words, eyes turning into crescents.

“Right, there’s always the girl stealing the bride’s spotlight at weddings.”

“Oh! That’s me,” you nod enthusiastically, “That’s one hundred percent me.”

“Groom or bride?” He asks, pointing at the couple with his chin.

“What do you think?”

He looks at you funny, pressing his back on the seat, pondering in silence. Cute.

“Bride. One of Bae’s sorority sisters, maybe? You seem too young to be her age, though.”

“Damn,” you exhale, crossing your arms under your chest, “I can’t believe you got it all wrong. The expectations were low, but I’m still disappointed.”

He ducks his head, still smiling. “Then it’s the groom. How do you know Seokjin?”

Your eyes twinkle with excitement at your next words, but honestly, who can blame you? You’re having fun with this lost, cute chick.

“What’s your take, officer?”

He erupts into a laugh, and you drink in his handsome features; fuck you, Seokjin, for being friends with fuckboys only.

“Alright,” he punches the bridge of his nose, scanning the room, which is slowly filling with other guests. “I’m his friend, and I know all of his friends, which can only mean one thing: option a, you’re one of his ex-girlfriends; option b, you’re one of his secret hook-ups; option c, you’re an old friend from high school.”

“Oooh,” you beam, unrealistically intrigued, “You really suck at guessing, don’t you?”

He laughs, passing a hand through his dark locks, messing his perfectly styled hair. “Ok, fair. Which one was the closest, then?”

“Option d, of course.” You nod, relaxing your features into a sheepish grin, “I’m his much more beautiful and smarter sister.”

You exam his face, now twisting into some sort of what the fuck, such betrayal look, and you take in, for the last time – really the last, this time – his attractive, sculptured face, his full lips, the smoothness of his skin. It’s awful and unfair knowing you two won’t cross paths ever again in your lives, but at least you had some fun messing with him before things could worsen.

“I’ll be sitting in the middle of the table, with my family, if you want to avoid me.”

You wink at him for good measure, and you swear to god he blushes.

 Half a wine bottle and two flutes of prosecco down, you realise you underestimated your resident fuckboy.

It happens when you’re grabbing your napkin and channelling your dreamy, happy looks towards the newlyweds, dancing in the middle of the room, their eyes gravitating only towards the love of their lives.

You sigh, pouting for the smallest of fractions, when you feel someone sitting at your side.

“You know,” Fuckboy begins, and you picture him licking his lips as he pauses, “Now I get why he never told us anything more than: I’m not an only child.”

“I know,” you exhale, turning to face him, “Seokwon is the real catch of our family. We’re really protective of him.”

“He’s married. With kids.”

“I was there when the twins opened their eyes, thank you.”

“We thought you were either a small kid or a forty years old woman.”

“Wait,” you tilt your head, “How did you know about us then? And who’s we?”

“We dug into his stuff and he caved in, admitting he had a brother and a sister.” Fuckboy looks at you, eyes dark but reflecting the dim lights of the function room, “Us. The frat guys.”

“Right, the fuckboys.”

He looks taken aback by your statement, bewildered, and you take advantage of his reaction to stand up and head away from him. It’s his words that stop you from doing so, though.

“You don’t know us—”

“—except I do know your pledges and your brothers.”

“But you don’t know me.”

“Maybe,” you shrug, “I prefer to steer away from my brother’s friends, though.”

“Right,” he says, tightening his lips in a hard line, almost hurt, “So, who am I to interfere with your judgmental thinking?” He clicks his tongue, then, a resolute exhale slipping past his lips, smothered by his own tingling despair.

The words hurt.

You don’t know what exactly pinched your senses hard, if the tone or the wallowing sadness swimming in his expression, but, as he stands up and leaves, you’re left facing the cold, hard truth.

The words hurt, you hurt, and you feel guilty.

You say nothing, glancing in the direction of the first alcoholic beverage around, and you fill yourself a glass.

Had it been someone else – had it been another sentence, another less sickening scenario, you would’ve felt proud, righteous. You’re, instead, on the other side of the feelings spectrum, all filled with crippling guilt and a nauseous, pervasive feeling you can’t quite name and pin down.

The guests are dancing around you, moving hand in hand to the rhythm of the pop love song now playing; the ballroom is packed when you let your impulsive side make a choice, eyes following the guy’s composed figure. You can drastically feel the sweat, and the heat the people are radiating, when you stand up and move towards him, the only smiling boy passing his glass from a hand to the other.

You’re close enough to tap his wrist and brush your fingers, which you do; it elicits a gasp from him, all soft, not scathing around the edges yet able to bite you, anyway. It’s the guilt, you remind yourself, looking for a sign of some sort of inclination to accept your apologies between the crease of his brows and tight jaw, and everywhere in between.

It’s sickening—this boy didn’t exist four fucking hours ago. It didn’t even cross your wildest dreams, someone like him. His shape – his silhouette – has left a print in your mind, and no matter how hard you try focusing on something else, someone else, your mind keeps going back to the shape itself.

But you’re a coward, so, while he lets you intertwine your fingers, you admit, voice loud: “I wanna dance.”

He handles you properly, kindly, before pushing you in the crowd and brushing your hips with his hands, all rings and jewellery adorning them.

He blinks twice, biting the insides of his mouth, but he manages,

“Who says I wanna dance?”

Which is a bit stupid, or hypocritic if you might, because he’s swaying you to the rhythm of a ballad the pop love song turned into. You break into the smallest of smiles.

“I want to apologize.”

He scoffs. “I don’t know you,” he says, funnily enough, “But that seems almost unlikely, coming from you.”

“Yeah, you got me there, officer. I was, uhm,” you stare blatantly at his neck, and you suppress the desire to stroke your fingers’ pads on his soft skin, “I was out of line. I’m sorry. You were right, I don’t know you. I do know your frat brothers, my own brother, but that doesn’t mean I know you.”

He hums, moving for a small fraction of instants his thumbs on your hips and it’s enough for your breath to catch into your own throat. He nods, which could mean anything, from I accept your apology to go fuck yourself, this is bullshit. You prefer the former option, if you’re being honest, which is the answer you settle for in your head, hazed and absolutely hazed and madly hazed because of his small physical contact.

To put this into the simplest terms, Seulgi’s words, you don’t like this.

“I like dancing,” his eyes tower you and gaze at the other people dancing; you wonder if he’s thinking about them, who they are to you, what role they played in Seokjin’s life, if they’ll show up to your wedding, too. These thoughts popped into your mind unannounced, before, at the table, before the not-really-fuckboy sat next to you and made you feel guilty. Such absurdity; yet here you are, in his arms. Oh god, what would Seulgi think of you if she saw you?

“Good to know, I’m awful at shoulder-hips coordination.”

“Shoulder-hips coordination?” he inquiries, lips parted.

“Uh, body rolls?”

“Oh,” he chuckles, “I see, you mean classy grinding.”

“I don’t do classy grinding, sorry,” you retort, head tilted to a side.

His smile his amused. “Too bad, shoulder-hips coordination is a nice trait to exhibit sometimes.”

“I prefer hips coordination. Well, hips rotation.”

“Hips rotation?”

“Riding? Is the term somehow unfamiliar to you?”

He flushes, biting back a grin and fixing his gaze somewhere in the crowd. How cute.

“Not at all, it’s nice to meet a hips rotation enthusiast here, though.”

“Statistics say at least a member in each family is a riding enthusiast, did you know?”

“Shit, talk dirty to me,” he licks his lips, pointing at Jin with his chin, “Didn’t peg him for a rider, though. Not at all.”

“I’m starting to think you’re not a STEM major, are you? You’re lacking basic intuition, my friend.”

“Is this your attempt of discovering my major?” – he eyes you, a flick of amusement burning in his orbs – “You’re not very smooth, you know?”

“I have my moments.”

He snorts, placing both hands on the small of your back. You’re at height level with the base of his neck, and it’s fun how your mind betrays you in such moments, providing mental images of your nose brushing against his skin, and you nuzzling in the crook of his neck. Such taunting, invasive pictures. Fuck off, you reprimand your own mind, fuck off.

“I’m Jimin.”

“Jimin,” you taste the name on your tongue, hitting the back of your front teeth. “Jin never talked about you. I’m Y/N.”

“Jin never talked about you either.”

“Of course he never did, I’m prettier than he is.”

His little dimples make an appearance. “You know, you could really steal the bride’s spotlight.”

“That was my ultimate goal all along, even though I prefer the dark side.”

“I,” he licks his lips, and you don’t know why you’re following the gesture, “I meant to say you’re beautiful.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper, eyebrows raising, “Are you a charmer?”

“I mean,” he begins, sheepish smile on display, “I never kiss and tell.”

“Touching.” He smirks. “How sweet of you.”

“You know what else is sweet?”

“Please,” you beg, meeting his eyes, “Don’t say my pussy.”

“Please,” he repeats, same mocking tone, “The possibilities are endless. Your mouth,” he scoots closer, words whispered on the shell of your ear, “Your mouth around my dick,” he almost nibbles your ear, “Your mouth screaming my name.”

“My pussy,” you add, trying not to lose your mind.

“I would never call sweet something I’ve not tasted.”

He raises a brow.

“Are you offering? You’re not very smooth, you know?”

He ignores the last question, tightening his grip. “In the middle of your brother’s wedding? Seokjin’s wedding? I’m not a dick, even though you sitting on my face would be a sight to see.”

“Right?” your voice doesn’t falter for a second, “That’s what I always say”

“Nice to see how we’ve got much in common. But I was thinking of something else, actually—” His face is once again inches away from yours, ear to mouth, hot breath fanning over you bare neck. “I wanna finger you.”

Oh.

“Under the table. Right behind you. Wanna make you whimper.”

It’s almost like being tongue-tied, fumbling for words, body flushing, but you gather somewhere the strength to form an actual sentence, which makes him smirk devilishly.

“I can be very quiet.”

He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Bet you can’t keep your pretty mouth shut.”

“When I win,” you say, lying your words on an unrealistically high vote of confidence, even for yourself, “What do I get?”

He licks his lips, slow, savouring the moment. “You get to ride my face.”

“Not your dick?”

“I’m not a fuckboy, baby.”

A comeback of some kind is already on your tongue, but – there’s a kiss somewhere in the following seconds, all wet and tingling and perhaps filled with too many lip bites, but he can’t really blame you when you’ve been brushing your thighs together for the past minute, heat pooling down your belly. It’s enough for you to silently pledge for more, and for him to tease, because he takes a step back, smirk in place and lips reddened, and guides you towards his seat at the end of the table with a hand on the small of your back.

Downhill begins as soon as you sit down, legs barely parted, a minimum space not fitting for his plans, apparently, because the crease between Jimin’s eyebrows grows when he nudges them apart with his hand, the cold metal of his rings cooling down your flushed state. You want to gasp at the sudden intrusion, but the sound is swallowed entirely by his hot mouth on yours, distracting once again, incredibly soft and alluring. This kiss is slow, this time, like he’s taking his time tasting you and learning about the hums he draws out of you, the shyness of your previously biting tongue, and how fast you get lost in the kiss itself. You press a chaste kiss on his mouth, before creaking a space between you.

“I’m starting to think you’re all bark and no bite”

He doesn’t answer, but stares into your eyes with his hooded gaze, and he manages to sneak a hand furtively under your dress not breaking the contact. His skin is warm, but you’re warmer, and his destination is even hotter. He cocks his head, fingers brushing against the soaked, sticking material you used to call panties up until fifteen minutes ago, and he must notice—his eyes grow wider, his jaw tightens and his hand gains courage.

Fuck. This should be embarrassing, getting worked up over dirty innuendos and a kiss or two, but you’re instead feeling flushed and more. More sensitive. More open to the idea of him ruining you, even though that’s not what he’s offering. Or— is he?

The question lies unanswered when his digits rub with a sparkled intensity over both your clothed sex and your inner thighs. It’s a continuous, mellifluous melody, his fingers dancing between the two until he settles on your panties only, and that’s when you almost let out a soft moan; you don’t, he raises his brow, challenging, but you don’t, and instead glance around to notice if someone has his eyes on the both of you, sitting in the furthest region of the fucking smart, endless table.

He raises the stake, flushed: Jimin pushes your panties on one side, petting with his index your exposed self, and you suck in a breath. He continues to do so, face still, closing the distance between you two.

You don’t question the sudden kiss, instead you angle your face and close your eyes and let him press his lips on you. This feels like being drunk, or high, stretching underneath a sky dripping with stars. You cup his face with your hands, his lips so terribly soft and inviting, the smallest of smiles meeting your own chapped and curved upwards lips.

It’s when you’re merely inches away from him that he thumbs at your clit, sensitive and tingling, circling with utmost peace and no speed whatsoever. You pout at little, you realize, which makes him melt either cause of your cute frown -oh, how the tables have turned- or simply because he’s the devil himself, pressing a finger against your entrance and delving it into your heat.

“Cute,” he purrs, kissing you, “Is this okay?”

The crude, hot, nerve-wracking fingering has begun, which makes you, quickly enough, putty in his hands and ablaze with ardour for this man whose rasping voice could kill you.

“Yeah,” you breathe on his mouth, eyelids drooping closed, “Yeah, all good.”

You hum to yourself as he starts pressing kisses on your jaw and your neck, a trail of treacherous flames lighting up your skin, and you have the audacity to sigh under his ministrations, a tiny, strained sound not quite a mewl.

If he hears, he doesn’t show it. You’re biting your own lip when he enters a second finger, filling your searing emptiness.

“Want three?” he asks, voice husky and as desperate as you are under his touch. He adds it when you nod, the squelch louder than before, and you moan, rocking your hips against his fingers.

“Shh, baby,” he coos, placing his other hand on your hips, slowing your movements, “Be a good girl.”

He fucks you deep, fast, fingers clashing against the silky dress you’re wearing and sweat sparkling on his forehead. He swallows another moans of yours, sucking your bottom lip and tugging it between his teeth. You’re close. You’re so close, and it’s only been a couple minutes. You can’t hear anything that isn’t your wet pussy clenching around his fingers, his rhythm ruthless and burning.

“Too bad you’re not coming on my fingers, today,” he says before kissing your neck and emptying your dripping pussy, then proceeding to taste and lick his own fingers in his mouth. He lets them out with a small pop, and it’s the most terrifying sight you’ve ever had in front of your almost watering eyes. “I’m sorry I won the bet, though, your pussy is the sweetest I’ve ever tasted.”

That’s the high and dry story of how you first met Jimin.

/

 The second time it happens, it’s under completely different circumstances, and, substantially, against your every predictions, it really happens. It takes place, like a once in a lifetime event: there’s an orgasm involved, not due to the very charming and never disappointing Jeon jungkook the robotic version, and instead it involves a rather attractive asshole with a persistent smirk plastered on his face.

Except it’s a lot more complicated than what it sounds, and most of it is Seulgi’s fault.

Your roommate had pouted all evening, because that’s what semi adults do when they’re denied a companion for the night.

“I just wanna get wasted. It’s been one hell of a month, and you know how I get when I’m stressed.”

“I can suggest you a vibrator and a bottle of vodka. Do you settle for that, your honor?”

“The more you talk like this,” all self-absorbed and assertive and cautiously, like when talking to a kid, she begins, hands in her long, mahogany hair, “the more I just wanna push you up against the wall.”

“Sounds to me you just wanna get laid.”

“Maybe I do,” she huffs, hands on her hips, the light of your abat-jour highlighting her golden skin. “Maybe I don’t. What I know is that I wanna get wasted. Come with me, pretty please?”

“Look,” you raise your eyes from the book you’ve been holding, stretching a leg onto the unmade bed of yours, “I just wanna get this fucking paper done. I need,” you grip the phone on the bed table, checking for the white, large numbers on your lock screen, “an hour. An hour and half to edit it and I’m all yours.”

“This paper is due on Thursday, though.”

“Yeah, but I have a reputation to uphold in the family. Have to be the most beautiful and successful.”

“You’re full of shit,” are her last words, muttered with a smile as she grabs her jacket.

“Hey,” you call, stretching your neck towards her, “I don’t care if it’s two am and you’re already wasted. Call me and I’ll come to you with a whole bottle of vodka to make it up to you. Hell, I’ll even kiss you goodnight.”

“I don’t wanna make out with you, you freak.”

“You didn’t say that last time, baby!”

 Seulgi

[2.13]

wassup bitch

make out with meeeeeeeeeeeeee

[location shared]

com n get me littl nuggrt

 Not Sober Seulgi is probably the worst Seulgi you have ever dealt with. You let out a sigh, eyeing the frat dorm all lit up and vibrating to the trashy trap music the insiders are jamming to.

Of course, when it comes to Not Sober Seulgi, there’s boys involved. Frat boys involved. At first, you don’t pay attention to the details, the signs, surrounding you like blinding traffic lights signalling stop stop stop, all red and striking. The thought doesn’t cross your mind, the dots connecting in some hidden part of your brain not making your insides short circuit—instead you’re knocking on the door, then banging on the very wooden entrance until a face shows up; the dorm is dimly lit, and the face is partially lightened by a soft, hued red and, that, too, Future You pinpoints, should have been a sign.

It’s useless, anyway, because you hear the insider talk and you’re burning instantly, like after touching a steaming, hot cup of coffee, except that bitter coffee is still good coffee. Smug Jimin plus bitter you isn’t really sweet, nor a match made in heaven. It’s chaotic, a caustic explosion, and you both know it, judging from the sharp smile he offers you, after blinking lazily at your figure.

“This is a mixer party only,” his soothing voice welcomes you, “Do you have an invite?”

You press your tongue on your teeth, mouth carefully closed.

“Yeah, from Hell, I’ve come to take a fallen angel.”

“Sorry to break it to you, oh-kind-lady, but we didn’t give any invite to poor, damned souls.”

“Too bad I don’t give a fuck about your policies, then,” you move towards the small space between the door and Jimin’s body, but he interferes, placing himself right between the two. “Look, I don’t give a single fuck about this party.”

“Yeah, it sure looks like it.”

You roll your eyes. “My friend is here. She’s most certainly not sober and I’ve come to pick her up. That’s it. Do you think I want to be here, among these drunk, perverted jocks?”

He turns around, stretching his neck, his eyes darting through the crowd, inhibited by alcohol, smelling like cheap beer and weed. The moment his eyes bore into yours, though, it’s terrifying; it’s a rustled reminder of Seokjin’s wedding Jimin, and you don’t like it. You loathe it. You dread it.

“Maybe only some of us.”

He tips his head, lips curving into a timid, small smile, and you tear your gaze from his lips in a heartbeat.

“Yeah, keep dreaming of it. I just want my friend back.” You point your chin towards the amalgam of drunk party animals, “I’ll leave you to your immensely interesting activities, then.”

“What if,” he begins, “You don’t. Or—even better scenario, you leave with me.”

“Best case scenario, I leave with my friend. You stay here.”

“What’s the worst-case scenario, then?”

You cock a brow at him, crossing your arms on your chest. “I leave with my friend, you stay here. Sometime before me leaving, you’re punched. Or kicked. I don’t know. There’s a high chance I’ll throw a drink on you.”

“That implies you’ll be here long enough to grab a drink, doesn’t it? And you don’t have to ruin my shirt to get me naked, babe. Just ask nicely.”

You huff, and you’re mildly tempted to shove him against a wall. Or ruin him. Not in the funny way. More like the high and dry way, the one he knows so well. “I changed my mind, I’ll kick you.”

“Ask nicely?” His teasing tone makes your cheeks flush, and you hope the shitplace with subdued lightening can cover it. His expression shifts into an arrogant one, full smirk and little dimples out, so your cute guess is that he can see. He sees his effect on you, albeit completely unwanted and full of hatred from your side, and he enjoys it. Actually lulls in it, letting out a small laugh which, in turn, makes his eyes turn into crescents, all warm and cute—all things he’s not. All things you know he’s not.

“Ask nicely,” you repeat, rolling the words on your tongue, “Okay, babe. Let’s do this, babe. What do you want from me, babe?”

“Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe the answer is you?”

“Yes, actually,” you sigh, fingers brushing his neck, face comically close to his perfect, chiselled one, “That’s exactly what I thought when you stopped fingering me.”

“Right,” Jimin has the audacity to smile, craning his neck as if to close the distance between you in order to meet you for a kiss, “I’m a man of word, thought. You should be impressed.”

“I’m pretty sure the only thing that’s impressed is your face under the orgasm denial definition. Google it, babe, I guarantee you the meaning comes with your name and a brilliant review of one star.”

“Unlike you.” He licks his lips, eyes on your pretty pink ones, smeared with venom, “You’re not coming.” He explains, to further ignite your rage.

“And whose fault is that, babe?”

Jimin nuzzles into your neck, cupping your other cheek with his rough palm, and his thumb stills on your throat, right where your breath is stuck. He adds pressure on it, lips fondling your burning skin, his usual smirk plastered on them.

“Let me make it up to you.”

“You’re not fucking me,” you spit back, mouth now millimetres away from his, gently inviting you to kiss it, and cherish it, and biting it until you’re satisfied with the hot result.

“I’ll eat you out? Until you come.” He hums. “You’ll come.”

His voice is a mere strangled sound, wanting and dripping with need, and you snap out of it with a small smile.

“Nice offer,” your smile is wicked as you scrape his nape with a feathery touch, the slow movement rousing a flutter in your lower belly. “But get in line, babe.”

His shell-shocked face is the last thing you see before you fulfil the let’s rescue Seulgi! party.

 (“Why do you smell like softener?” Seulgi sniffs you, arms looped loosely around your neck, eyes completely shut down. It’s a nice sight, all things considered. You’re no angel, no saint, no perfect person, but you’re a nice friend, and that’s probably the most Seokjin trait you recognize in yourself. It’s your shared apartment, and it’s past 3 am and you’re the one good friend who keeps her promises. “It’s strawberry vodka, you heathen.”)

 The line turns out to be a real line, queue line, let’s get this coffee line, which, well. How can one word it, how can one phrase it fully catching the irony of it all, the distinctive je ne sais quoi of life without—

“Nice to see you here.”

It’s the perfect set for a rom-com, you notice, taking in the warm scenery around you. What else can one dream of, right? The campus coffee shop, the campus hot not-really-but-also-kinda fuckboy Jimin, partial jock to give him credit, full time attractive idiot with a tendency for orgasm denial. Really.

“What are the chances?” You exhale, voice devoid of emotions. For the sake of your parents’ integrity, you suppose, because they raised no impolite woman, of course, you turn around to face the angel-like human being, black hair partially covering his forehead, little dimples on full display. That’s—that is lack of integrity, or indecency or au-fucking-dacity. It might as well be a mix of the above-mentioned possibilities, all fitting and nurturing you because he’s gorgeous. He’s handsome. Jimin’s the most attractive human being you’ve ever seen in your life, and it’s not fair.

(Beside the fact that you’ve lived with Kim Seokjin, for fuck’s sake)

He pokes his own cheek, and you bask into the otherworldly scenario that takes place right in front of your caffeine deprived eyes. It’s a sight for sore, soft eyes, and it’s the end of the world as you know it, because it’s morning, too early to properly function like a normal human being, but there he is. There he is, Jimin, channelling his inner boyfriend material aura, oozing off boyfriend smell, nice, fresh, aftershave smell, rocking a stupid sweater and the messiest black mop of hair.

It’s honestly a tragedy, and you won’t stand for it. You will make a move—

“You’re squinting your eyes, like, real tight. Are you alright?”

Just ogling you, your drowsy mind offers, the fucking cheater.

“Yeah,” you reply, swallowing a lump in your dry throat, “Just need coffee. A latte. Anything.”

You move forward in the queue, and as you blink you realize it’s your turn, until it’s not anymore. Jimin carefully and gently moves you out of the way, brushing with the softest touch your side.

“A latte and an iced americano, please.”

The sweetened order for two turns into a hushed thank you, a tipped smile, a flutter of you heart. It’s drinks still half full, his curious gaze darting on your lips, your defences down. It’s unfair, because in a hot second all this pent-up tension shifts into a light, chaste kiss, your back pressed against the coffee shop’s restroom; your chest heaves under his tantalizing make-out session with your neck, followed by his frantic lips pressing on yours, his tongue licking lazily into your mouth, a gasp easing its way out of your warm and eager mouth. It’s a hot-blooded supercut, each frame announced by a starving moan, a content sigh, and, before you realise it, you’re on your bed, Jimin hovering on top of you.

It’s Saturday morning, you hum to yourself, fingers sliding into his hair, all’s in check. There’s a warm body slumped on yours, his tongue swerving on your lower lip and his hips shyly bucking between your open legs. Your panties are drenched, you can feel his hard on through the jeans and, really, all’s in check.

He nudges your nose with his. “Lemme eat you out.”

The answer lies sitting on the tip of your tongue, right next to an obnoxious remark that you hope will rile him up enough for him to rip your underwear, which you definitely won’t complain about. However, the words don’t come out, they slur in your craving mouth the second he gets up and shoves you toward the end of your unmade bed, spreading your naked legs open with his calloused palms.

“Nice skirt,” he comments, voice a rasp, eyeing the drenched, lilac underwear, skirt at this point gone up to cover your stomach. “I just want…”

He shuffles closer, enough for you to feel his hot breath on your core, and that’s when Jimin pulls the panties on a side, teasing you with little licks to your entrance. You’re responsive, too eager for anything to quench your thirst that you sigh happily at the barest of actions, gripping strands of his hair. Jimin chuckles, engulfing the throbbing clit in his mouth in one go and drawing desperate moans out of your cute, devilish mouth.

“Fuckboy move,” you emit, voice cracking at the pressure of his warm mouth, “Oh, oh. Fuck…”

He replies flattening his tongue on your core, then licking and lapping against your dripping folds. Jimin positively glows at the cries you let out, face slobbering with your arousal while driving you insane, fucking with his tongue like his life depended on it. It’s almost a spiritual experience, a crescendo of wails and sobs, his face drown in your pussy and his tongue paying reverence to your approaching orgasm. He can feel it in the way you writhe, in his hand splaying over your stomach, keeping you still while he eats you religiously, forehead beaded with sweat.

You come with a trembling hand in his hair, the other flicking your bare nipple, back slightly arched and a lewd mewl; Jimin takes in the way your body trembles, your breath all staggered because of him, and the sight alone is enough for him to cum in his pants with a grunt, completely untouched.

The second time it happens is, coincidentally, the first time Jimin knows there’s no turning back from this.

/

Complicated is a big word when it comes to relationship, you reckon, emitting something akin to a gasp, truly soap operas worthy material, but, for the first time in your life, you decide to name it this way.

Being with Jimin is… complicated, for starters. Especially because you’re not with Jimin, in the strict, relationship-wise meaning. He knows your favourite colour (“Why the fuck you only own purple underwear?” “It’s lilac, dick, watch your mouth.” “Watch your own mouth, babe. You’re the one on your knees.”), your favourite food (“But you like having your mouth stuffed with my cock, honey.” You sigh, blushing. “First of all, I’m talking about real food. That amazing steak kind of food—“

“I’ll show you real meat, babe.”

“Gross. Gross. How can I cancel the last five seconds of my life?”

“Come here, Jared, nineteen,” he half smiles, tilting his head, “I’ll get us fries.”), your favourite movie (“We can’t get each other off every time your ugly paper cap fits—oh,” you suck in a breath, Jimin flicking his tongue on your turgid nipple, “oh, god, don’t stop.”), your best friend’s name (“I condone you dicking her so good she sometimes cries, you know, I just don’t when I’m in the room next to hers and all I can hear is my best friend trying to formulate a single coherent word but failing because you’re pounding her mercilessly into the mattress.” Jimin chuckles, grabbing his jacket before holding the doorknob. “She begged, Seulgi.”)—so what? It’s not like you sat down and decided not to ask each other dumb questions, so that you could find out in the funny, kinky way. For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even decide on anything, didn’t even talk about talking, because the relationship related shit didn’t even cross your mind.

It’s even quite fucking hard for it to cross it, because half the time you’re together you’re either both naked – except for the time he pleaded for the tartan mini to stay – or stuffing your mouth with food—because, if there’s something you’ve learned after one too many hook-ups with him is that this kind of sex requires strength. Like, actual, physical strength, if we’re not talking about the this test is draining me please fuck me until I can’t walk sex. Which, yeah, 10/10 would recommend. That was the day Seulgi decided to invest in ear plugs while muttering capitalism, here I come.

You also came.

Funnily enough, guess who also came. Not in the funny, kinky way. Think about the grossest thing, imagine the beyond the bounds of possibility, sprinkle it with Jimin earnestly shoving his dick down your throat, stir it with a poor Taehyung brushing his teeth next to the both of you, a step away from the shower, and serve it on the most expensive plate in the kitchen, a recipe not approved by Kim Seokjin.

Yeah, you mentally roll your eyes, licking your lips clean, at eye-level with your sorta enemy with benefits’ pretty dick: the married brother of yours, former fratboy, taller than your current will to live.

In hindsight, maybe it is Seokjin’s fault. Once you’re married, you’re supposed to be committed to the cause, and sometimes, an angry little crumb in you finds the audacity to speak, the cause is made up of your four walls: ergo home, ergo your married life, miles away from the absurdity that once filled his university days. You’re being hypocritical, you realize, skin wet, body trembling. In the simplest, most hedonistic terms, you’re done with the chaos in this fraternity and just wished that hooking up was easier. It’s more than a stolen orgasm, a random spur of pleasure and free de-stresser; it’s also something not quite like art but just as peculiar. Sex with Jimin is more than nice, more than a fast rummage of clothes on the floor and panties teared, or condoms stuffed in every single pocket of his jacket.

It should also be noticed that it’s been one hell of a stressful week, okay, which means that it’s one of those times you seek for naked intimacy, in its least literal meaning. You’re looking for something sure, something silent, something earnest. Jimin gives you that in the simplest of forms, in the easiest of ways. It’s not fair for your brother to come unannounced and burst into the house with his adorable laugh and love for his own brothers. Way to ruin the moment, bro.

Jimin blinks attentively when Taehyung laughs, clapping his hands all happy and following the elder’s voice outside the bathroom.

“I’m getting you my clothes.”

“Wait, what?”

His lips part just enough for his tongue to wet them, and your eyes follow in silence the gesture.

“I mean,” he starts, grabbing a towel, “You either come out with me from this bathroom or you don’t.”

He’s concise, yet harsh, words uttered with those soft lips yet are just as hot as a slap in your face. He’s telling the truth, but you soon find out you don’t really like it.

There’s something abrupt and severe in those chosen words, so well picked out because they’re not meant to hurt, but at the same time they’re so worrying. So terrible, practically as hard as a punch in your guts.

You either come out of the bathroom with him — you had been blowing minutes before, hadn’t you? Quite the intimacy, huh? — or you don’t. You stay behind. Different rooms, a whole door to separate you while he’s out with the people he cares about.

Seems legit, but. It’s unfair. You know Jimin isn’t choosing for you, but it’s obvious he’s inclined towards an option between the two, and you’re terrified to discover whether it’s his own desire pushing or what he thinks you want.

You, instead, push the thought aside when you nod, taking the towel from his hands and covering your body from this terrific half hook-up.

Because that’s what it is—that’s what you are.

It dawns upon you like a cold breeze hitting your face in full December, suddenly, and that’s when you realize winter is near. In your mind, this hooking up scenario seemed nicer. Sounded softer, a cute bubble moving slowly in the air.

But now—well, now the bubble has burst, and it feels wrong, and this unexpected wrong doesn’t feel right in your chest, and that’s the story of how you leave the house escaping from his window, in his clothes, with vision blurred by hot, stupid, idiotic tears.

/

Seulgi is the first one to notice, and, obviously, the first one to speak.

“Something’s been bothering you,” she says, head tilted in a way that’s supposed to be emphatic and worried but comes off as stiff and terrified. “Care to share?”

It’s just a wholesome amount of terrifying stuff, isn’t it? First the shower incident, now Seulgi’s ways not working around you anymore. What’s next? Avoiding Jimin for a whole week? Blocking his number? Losing the smart and beautiful title to your obnoxious brother?

You wouldn’t be surprised, really. Shit like this always happens at the same fucking time.

“It’s nothing. A stressful couple days, maybe? Or maybe I’m getting sick. There’s a guy always coughing during Physics. Maybe it’s his fault, who knows.”

Seulgi unlocks her phone, an unreadable gaze studying you. She gives up a second later, though, her weak maybe reaching your ears when you’ve already looked down on your book.

One simply cannot be annoyed because of a half hook up. Christ. You deserve better than that. You have some dignity left, tainted by everything that’s not Jimin and his harsh, stupid words.

So, your mind offers, while you squint your eyes, I suppose there’s nothing else you could do about it.

Nothing else besides acknowledging it and moving on.

Sounds like a plan. A fireproof plan, an escape plan, something detailed and precise. Planned to work out smoothly; planned to be executed without pain or mistakes.

/

It’s seven sharp when he knocks, takeout in his left hand, eyes bulging because it’s fucking freezing outside.

“It’s fucking freezing, what the fuck.” He says out loud, indeed. What he receives as an answer is the sound of your tongue clicking, the biggest amount of interest you’ve shown towards him the whole week. He would finally exhale, weren’t it for the fact that this is still pretty traumatic, because if there’s something he’s learned while orbiting around you, is that you’re constantly awake and aware of your surroundings. Your body language says that you pay attention to him, or Seulgi, or whoever you’re talking to. You follow the guy with your eyes, and you listen and nod in all the right places during a conversation, and you search for his dark gaze when he’s fucking you in the dimly lit bedroom, the bed creaking under your sweaty sex making. He’s not admitting it, he never will, and he’ll pretty much deny this to everyone who will ask but: there’s something hot about it. Something burning with the way your body reacts to him, when your eyes follow his actions, while your voice falters when he fucks you right, and it somehow pushes him to the edge every time. It’s the equivalent of Jungkook getting a boner in the gym while catching girls and boys drooling at him, except he’s talking about you and your crazy moans, your magic aura.

And yes, okay, fucking blame him, the realization alone made him jerk off in his room like a teen, twice, yesterday. That’s a fact. That’s barely a fact, alright? This is a truth; a statement soon forgot by the knowers. Obviously.

You look spent, he thinks, if he had to choose a word, dared by some arrogant deity to define the current mess you were. He glances at your barely done ponytail, at the tiredness written all over your face. He takes in your baggy sweater, your quiet beauty, knowing this is gonna be one of those nights you take a step back.

He doesn’t say anything though, instead he brushes the hair on your forehead, not even making contact with your skin.

You grab the bag from his hands, shivering instantly and hoping he doesn’t read the signs. They’re—they’re there, you know, you’re collecting them slowly, one after another, grabbing one and looking cautiously for the following one, hoping it’s not there. Hoping it doesn’t exist.

You exhale a sigh, disguising it as cough, a noise, something distracting Jimin from his silent staring, which is, funnily enough, loud and cacophonic.

“Hungry,” you state, the single word weighting more because of the soft pout on your lips. Jimin hates that he knows what it means, that it’s gonna be just the two of you this time, no chill whatsoever, no bodies touching and melting against each-other. He’s not complaining, what the fuck, he’s not an idiot. He’s not even mad, he’s just—accepting, on a level. This is the point of no return, he guesses, following you on the couch and admiring the laptop’s screen reflected on your face.

He doesn’t say anything when you search for Brooklyn 99 on Netflix, because he’d say everything, otherwise. He’d mumble something along the lines of this feels real, we could do this all the time, or, worst of all: I like this. I like you.

So, in order: he tugs at your sleeves and scoots you closer to him, and you say absolutely nothing at the gesture. He’s ecstatic on the inside, partially terrified, mostly delusional. He pretends he’s something more when you lean on him, the slightest pressure of your head on his shoulder. He cares zero fucks about the show when he’s breathing your scent in and feels how warm you are and shuts his eyelids down when he pictures you adoring him. Liking him. Liking him a whole lot more—

He’s fucked, he realises, hours later, when you doze off and he has to carry you to bed, something you claim of loathing, which—what on earth. It’s an unfathomable absurdity, that’s what it is.

“You can stay.”

His voice falters. “What?”

You cough, eyes closed as you speak sinful words: “The night, I mean. It’s fucking freezing outside.”

His lips form a small o, and it’s hot all of a sudden. “Alright,” he manages, staring at you on your bed, hands fidgety and heartbeat accelerated for some reason, “Make space for me. Hey, fucker. I’m serious. Let me in.”

You do.

(to be continued. ily)

[octupus-on-the-moon]

A plan

~Yeah, took longer then expected, but i´ll update regulary from now on. The ending is bad i will change that later. Anyway i hope you guys enjoy it~

《 Previous -- Masterlist -- Next 》

Sixth part of a nightmare

Word count: 1566

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Mental health issues 

Bucky and y/n spend the rest of the day planning how they would get to the documents of Mr. Belove. They seemed to start enjoying each other’s company. With every laugh and teasing comment, the loneliness that surrounded both faded.

“Wait a minute, won´t your father… Belove… whatever, won´t he suspect something if you don´t come home tonight?” Bucky asked from the floor. He was sitting in front of a hand painted ground-plan, looking up to y/n. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, childly swinging her feet, chewing on a lollipop.

“No, he isn´t that overprotective. I told him I met some old friend from high school and that we have a lot to catch up. Then I wrote Lisa, the woman that helps me out in the house, to pack some things and bring them to me. Don´t worry I told her to wait for me three blocks from here” y/n explained proud of her foresight.

“You really thought of everything?” Barnes praised her, tilting his head a little to the side. “I like that. You can have the bed by the way. I sleep on the floor anyway” Y/n feet stopped “Are you okey?” He frowned. Her proud expression froze. “Did I say something wrong?” Bucky added, surprising himself with a worried tone in his voice.

“No. No. It´s fine. You just reminded me of someone” She excused herself hasty. Followed by a broad smile, that didn´t reach her eyes “However, do we go over the plan again?”

 The first problem, was that her father never left the house. He spends most of the time in his office or in the library, near the office. The only moment the bureau was completely unsupervised, not counting the security system, was while breakfast, dinner, late at night or on Friday afternoon; The only day of the week he would leave the house to play golf for a few hours. Barnes and y/n decided to do the-not-actually-a-break-in that day.

The second problem only concerned Bucky. It consisted in him needing to ask Sam for another favor…  

 “It´s easy.” Barnes began “You come home from your lecture at 12 pm, then you take lunch with him. He goes off to play golf at 1:30 pm. I turn of the security system at 1:40 pm. You slip into his office and get the documents of the vault. Then we meet at the gate 2 pm sharp. If something goes wrong, we meet at 3 pm here.” He finished with his everlasting, impenetrable face.

“Sounds solid.” Her phone vibrated. “My package arrived” Y/n announced while looking at her phone. “I´ll go get it. I´ll be back in 20. Don´t do anything fun without me” and she left.

 Barnes sat still for a few moments. He was thinking. Since she arrived this morning, something inside him had changed. But what was it? Bucky questioned himself. Then he realized that he had not thought of his anger about Sam, Steve and the shield. Also, his Yori-problem, all the guilt, slid into the background. Today Bucky had laughed and smiled more than he had since 1944. Now that he was there all alone, the silences came back. He felt the void, with all his worries, slowly approaching him.

“It’s the quietest most personal hell” Dr. Raynor´s voice echoed in his mind. Maybe she was right, he thought.

Someone knocked. Barnes rushed to the door. Anything was better now. Better than that awful silence. He threw the door open, just to find Yori standing right in front of him, with a pretty displeased face.

“What about dinner James? We said 6, it´s almost 7” Nakajima complained immediately.

“Oh. Dammit. I am so sorry. I forgot. It´s just. I had a crazy day. And I have a guest.”

“A girl?”

“No! Yes. But not like that. You know what. Just come in” Yori was all smiles as he passed by Bucky, who was desperate by his sudden change of mood.

“Who is she?” Nakajima queried. He was calmly crossing the short corridor, while Barnes closed the door. Bucky´s face went blank, as it occurred him. The report was laying on the counter.

“Ehhh. She. I mean. We” Bucky stuttered as he hurried into the kitchen to collect all the papers “We are coworkers. But she has a problem in her house and is staying a few days with me” He lied after stuffing the papers into an old black backpack, casually leaning against the sink. “She should be back any moment, then we can decide over dinner” Yori looked disappointed, but his face lit up a little after a second.

“James”

“Yeah?”

“You only have one bed” a suggestive smirk appeared on Nakajima´s face. If you looked close enough you could watch Barnes´s cheeks turn red. What did he do to deserve the day of today? He asked. Probably annoy his therapist and not follow the three holy rules, Bucky answered himself, but he won´t change it in the future.

“I will sleep on the floor”

“That´s not comfortable.”

“I know but I can´t share the bed with a stranger Yori”

“Did not mean that. I have two thin extra mattresses. You can have one, till she´s home again” Nakajima offered all serious again. Barnes first reaction would have been to reject his suggestion, but if he did that, he would need to explain why he wanted to sleep on the floor so bad. Or Nakajima would misinterpret Bucky´s intention with y/n.

“That would be great, thank you”

“No problem.”

Silence. Again. But it did not last long. Although Yori preferred not to talk, he felt that something was up. James was usually a very calm guy, but now he was wriggling around impatiently. So Nakajima started to tell about his day. Barnes listen attentively, while making some tea. Grateful not to be surrounded by silence.  

 “James? I´m back” y/n interrupted them. “I thought we could order pizza” Her voice lowered at the end of the sentences, as she turned around the corner seeing Barnes and Nakajima. “Oh! Hello, I`m y/n.” She introduced herself, reaching her free hand towards Yori. The other one was holding a grey sports bag.

“Yori Nakajima a pleasure to meet you” The little grey man replied, accepting her hand.

“The pleasure is all mine Mr. Nakajima. I didn´t know you were expecting someone today” Y/n said, first addressing Yori and then Bucky.

“Yori is my neighbor. We eat sometimes together, but I forgot that we agreed for dinner tonight” Barnes explained a little insecure, because he didn´t know if it was okey for her, sharing dinner with Yori. Nakajima was silently observing the interaction between both.

“Oh, but he can stay for the pizza don’t?” y/n asked Bucky with pleading puppy eyes. Something about that look made him feel warm inside.

“Yes of course.” Barnes agreed with a little smile, that only Yori seemed to notice. Approving whatever kind of relationship these two had, with a knowing look.

“Mr. Nakajima, what kind of pizza do you like?”

 Mr. Nakajima liked the classic New York-style pizza and enjoyed the red wine, Barnes found in one of the mostly empty cupboards of his kitchen.

“James you are really in need of some furniture” Y/n commented from a wooden chair. Yori was comfortably seated on the little armchair, even though he struggled a little reaching for his wine glass on the floor. Meanwhile Bucky was standing near the counter.

“I never planned to have people over and I´m almost never at home, so what´s the point of buying furniture”

“I live alone, but at least I have a table to sit on” Yori added while he balanced the plate on his knees reaching for the glass on the ground.

“Yeah, where do you eat usually? On the floor?” Y/n teased him grinning, before she took a bite of her pizza. Barnes shifted his weight on the left side, uncomfortable with all the questions.

“I never eat at home, cooking for myself isn´t worth it and if I order something I just sit on the floor or in the armchair” Bucky justified his meager living, shrugging and nodding towards Yori. Who just shook his head, amused, about the poor argument. This drew y/n attention to him.

“Mr. Nakajima you said you lived alone. Do you not have any family? Children?” She asked curiously. Regretting once again talking so thoughtlessly, as Yori´s face turned expressionless. Scared of breaking the silence. Y/n looked up to Bucky for help. But he was starring down at his pizza, lost in his own thoughts, which didn´t seem to be pleasant either. “I´m sorry if I did say something wrong. I didn´t know…” Nakajima took a deep breath, so she interrupted herself.

“It´s fine, as you said, you didn´t know. My wife died many years ago giving birth to my firstborn son.” Yori started talking calmly. “My son died a few years ago in a shooting. Since then, I´m alone. James moved here some months ago and spends some time with me. A girl, from the sushi restaurant around the corner, also keeps an eye on me, but that´s it.”

It took a while and an empty wine bottle to restore the relaxed atmosphere. The day ended with a more or less intense card game. After Bucky brought the mattress from Yori´s apartment to his empty livingroom. 

All rights reserved.

Ps. Yeah, i broke my own heart with the dinner scene

《 Previous -- Masterlist -- Next 》

[neonponders]

I FINALLY uploaded again to my first Harringrove fic ever, so here’s an easy way to read ch. 1 since a lot of people here don’t know me from Dracula Has a Mullet haha

Read on ao3 here ~

💋 💋 💋 💋 💋 💋

The discovery that Billy Hargrove is a vampire came at a weird time in a weird way. It’s just not everyday that you walk in on someone fingering Alexandra O’Neil with their teeth—fangs—in her tit.

There were stranger things in Hawkins, unfortunately. Unfortunately? How fortunate is a vampire?

“For fuck’s sake. Really?”

Billy has the grace to extract his freaking teeth with a semblance of being surprised. “I didn’t know you had that kind of mouth, Harrington.”

Steve waves a scolding finger at him with all the gusto of a drunk, and he has the solo cup to justify it. “Put those away! She was homecoming queen last year. Jesus, have some class.”

“You serious?”

Steve downed the last of his beer and Jäger with a grimace, his voice going raspy. “Look, I’m not one to judge a lady’s standards, but really, Alex…Alex?”

The lady in question was so blissed out she looked like one of those unnaturally stupid women in every Dracula movie. Billy actually moved aside as Steve pulled her away from the wall—away from Billy—to try and talk to her. Righting her dress with quick yanks, he covered her gorgeous, if small, breasts and gave her a shake. “Alex! Hey!”

He could hear—could feel it, more like—Billy moving behind him in the dark room. Steve had come up here hoping to claim the guest room before someone used it to hookup from the party downstairs. It wouldn’t be the first time he woke up from a mid-party nap to someone being blown, but sometimes it’s the price one pays for free liquor and an ounce of decent sleep.

“What’s wrong with her standards? Huh, King Steve?”

The voice is right behind him, so close that the damn vampire has to rear backwards when Steve whirls around. “What kind of vamp name is Billy? Wait, that’s short for something—”

“If you call me by anything else, I’ll hang you from the ceiling by your teeth.”

“You’re not charming like vampires,” Steve practically complained. “Gotta work on that. Everyone gossips here. Folks will know you’re toothy like…” He fumbled a clumsy but sharp snap of his fingers.

Billy made a derisive sound before his voice crooned, “Seems like I’m flying just fine under the vampire radar, then.”

He was heaving Alex back up from where she had slumped against the dresser when Steve released her. Steve raked a hand through his hair, thinking. It was a slog through the alcohol, but he surmised that he could not take her away from this guy. Case being: Steve was far too drunk to logically drive, and to where? It was her house.

“You. You gotta go.”

Billy huffed one of his low, mirthless laughs. Instead of setting Alex nicely on the bed, he just kind of dumped her there. She let out a sort of dumb-giddy moan as she face planted a pillow and he faced Steve. “Excuse me?”

“You’re, like, biting people at a party!” Steve realized somewhere between his tone and his slight—or perhaps exaggerated, it was hard to tell at this point—sway, that Billy was far more sober than he felt.

Not the time to play hero but whatever.

Billy slowly stepped toward him. “There’s plenty worse at this shit house than me, Harrington. Worst weed I’ve ever had. And that shit whiskey’s been so watered down, it’s nothing but wheat water.”

“Hey!” Steve was poking two fingers at him before he meant to. “They just renovated the place and I got well paid for the tiling and paint!”

“So you’re the reason everyone’s been tripping over the same spot in the kitchen?” Billy huffed.

“And the whiskey’s not so bad if you chase it with grape juice. It’s like toast and jam water. Whatever, no one’s here for your holier-than-thou, California bullshit!”

Billy was caught by surprise that time. His whole expression lifted, brows and eyes widening as he repeated, “Holier. Than. Thou. That’s the kind of shit you pick up from books. I didn’t know the king could read.”

“Fuck off,” Steve grimaced, really just wanting to get Alex tucked into bed and maybe join her. “You’ve been riding me ever since you got here.”

“I definitely have not been doing that,” Billy retorted and then smiled. “What, you offering?”

“Was she?” Steve cornered, drawing himself up to his full height. Admittedly, not much taller than Billy, but small victories lead to great heights or something.

Billy wiped his mouth and Steve’s eyes plummeted to those lips. “Yeah, she was. She pulled me upstairs, or is that so hard to believe, blue balls?”

“It kind of is, yeah,” Steve said with his hands on his hips. “Alex has asthma. Like, inhaler tucked in her bra at prom in case the slow dance was too much. She’d never get with a chain smoker like you.”

“She would if her high school sweetheart cheated on her with the first college bitch he found.” One of Billy’s eyebrows perked up with his shrug. “I’m a favorite for ladies looking for a rebound.”

Steve grimaced. “Derek cheated? How do you know that?”

“That’s between her and me,” Billy said, stepping forward again. “But I hear you’ve been due for a rebound for a while, Harrington.”

He didn’t want to talk about Nancy. It wasn’t even Nancy, really, but he didn’t want to talk about anything regarding his sex life or lack thereof. Steve diverted, “I want you to leave. Go find someone else to—whatever the hell this is.”

“Well. You’re right here.”

“Not me, dumbass. I told you to leave the house.”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Billy smiled. “What? You’ll let me beat the shit out of you again? We had an audience last time too.”

“I wouldn’t be too cocky about last time,” Steve groaned, beginning to take a step back. “The way I hear it, Jonathan had to mop you off the floor after—”

Billy wasn’t listening. His eyes were on Steve’s neck and the only gut wrenching, instinctive thought Steve had was weapon. It came in the form of a glass lamp, which he wrenched out of the wall to break over Billy’s head.

The hard thud of thick glass hitting before the shatter and glass raining over the floor had Steve gaping at him. Billy stood very still. Way too still. Steve wondered if he had knocked him out, but his legs hadn’t unbuckled yet.

Then Billy lifted dark eyes beneath his mess of a fringe, pupils blown wide. Steve continued to stare at him with the mechanical parts of the lamp still in his hand. “Holy shit, you didn’t even flinch! You’re supposed to dodge when furniture’s coming at you—”

Billy gripped the wrist holding the parts and wrenched him so far that Steve couldn’t react to Billy’s other hand on his pants. Heaving him up by his belt, he slammed Steve onto the table from which the lamp had originated. Music thrummed around them, the very beams in the walls vibrating. Steve defied the laws of his denim pants by folding his leg against his side to kick Billy in the gut. Ragged sounds from both of them went unheard by the party below. Steve slid like a heavy tablecloth to the floor with Billy likewise winded and crouched in front of him.

“Why…” Steve tried, rubbing his chest and hoping his talking lasted long enough for him to decide whether running or trying to pin Billy down was the best decision. “…can’t you just…not do this? Whatever alpha bullshit game you think life is.”

“Some of us don’t want to go through life with your dashing prince crap,” Billy spat.

“You think I’m dashing? I couldn’t tell, I passed out the last time you punched me in the face.”

Billy laughed. “Yeah. You’re just as soft as I remember.”

He was moving again and Steve felt a wild, foolish—downright stupid—thrill to try something else. “You need to leave, man. Really. I know a party of blackout graduates might seem like easy pickings, but Hawkins is different.”

“You don’t know shit about different,” Billy growled. “You’ve never seen grass outside this bum fuck of a town.”

“I’ve been to Disney World. And New York City. There’s gotta be some hospital nurse you can swoon into letting you raid their blood bank?”

He couldn’t tell if Billy was getting angrier or not. The man was always angry, seemed like. “I’m not drinking from a freezer. Now shut the hell up. You’ll enjoy this like your homecoming queen.”

A last ditch effort, diving in the direction of the door, but it wasn’t the first time Billy had been on top of him with murder in his eyes. Steve’s hands fumbled at Billy’s face, but then his wrists were pinned above his head and a panicked whine escaped as Billy’s hot, humid breath found him.

Steve went slack. They always do. Billy had figured out that something in his teeth or saliva sedated those he bit, and more. A whole lot more. It made a good flirt into a hell of a time. Alexandra of the Hawkins Homecoming Court had already come on his finger when Steve, of all people, waltzed right in.

It made hunting annoying. It made hunting fun. He had to be picky; didn’t want anyone he couldn’t look at for longer than three minutes moaning all over him while he tried to feed. His looks did most of the work. The right dash of charm here, a nice compliment there, and then his fangs did the rest.

Steve was hard under him. Billy felt the distinct push of his jeans against his own ass while he slid his fingers under Steve’s nape. Lifting his neck, he made sure the moron’s windpipe stayed open, as well as lifted his meal closer to his mouth—

A strange sound came from Steve. Billy’s eyes flicked to his face, but when that labored breathing sound happened again, he sat up and stared. Steve was crying.

This had never happened before. Those doe eyes that all the girls had ranted about when he first drove into Hawkins were red and squinted as moisture slid over his temples. Billy even checked to make sure he wasn’t sitting too heavily on his dick or something, but the gears of his brain slid into place.

Steve usually wore sunglasses at parties. Billy couldn’t help but huff a laugh. “Are you a drunk crier, Harrington? Hey, I’m talking to you.”

He gripped Steve’s jaw, but his whole head lolled, those eyes barely finding him through the daze. “I just wanna sleep,” he said quietly. Fresh tears raced into his hair as he passed out.

[secretsniper3]

Part 4: Tough Day

I awake with my hands where they can usually be found in the morning, clamped around my belt while fluid pours out between my legs. Master has kept me on denial for 3 days now and I can barely take it any more. only 2 days ago I was edged in a electricity fuelled nightmare and yesterday i was edged by a mystery woman and forced to walk for hours as a latex maid, sweeping up dust and cooking duties. To go from such a high back to the normal, well, I wanted the high again, Craved it even, to feel the caress of another on my body and be pleasured beyond reckoning. with my morning edges still out of reach and my clit throbbing even now I stand to get ready but hear a knock on my door as my Master enters the room.

“We are having a party today, my Dear, and I want you to look your best, red lips, high heels and a dress.” he says as he walks to the wardrobe and pulls out a blue silk dress. “this dress will do nicely. You will wear nothing else and wait here till i come and get you.” he says as I hear a knock on the front door. I nod as he leaves and begin to dress myself..

---------------- Meanwhile --------------

As the front door opens I stand there in all my glory, long blue hair caressing my back in my black dress and heels, im welcomed into the house by the Master and step inside, he takes my coat and offers me a refreshment. Gladly accepting he returns with 2 glasses of champagne and hands me 1. “To a glorious party!” the Master says, I raise my glass and drink to the toast and begin to discuss the entertainment, glancing at the stairs knowingly and as I do I feel light headed. Grasping my head I quickly put the glass on the table moments before my world goes black. “YOU will be MY entertainment later on.” the Master says with a laugh.

Waking up but keeping my eyes shut I shift around a bit, making a barely audible grunt in the process, my attempt to rub my eyes is met with immediate resistance and my eyes fly open and, to my horror I find Im bound. Ropes crossing all over my body as my attention is pulled to the tubes running out of my nose and mouth. The Master playing with my bound form I shift around and make my reawakened state known to him, with a laugh he tells me to relax as I feel plastic push into my urethra I wince at the discomfort. Having another laugh at my expense he leans in close to my face and says “you were never invited to my little party my dear, i simply wanted you here for a little fun for a few days.” and with that he checks that my bindings are secure, arms in a strict bind behind my back, elbows and wrists pressed against their counterparts and then pushed against my back, useless there but I guess thats the idea. My pussy and ass have intruders and they are not small, my ass stretched wide to accommodate my new friend in there and my pussy feels like its near capacity if it isnt already. My clit feels pressure from a suction cup and my new Master, seemingly reading my mind said “it vibrates too.” Im in trouble and I know it, but powerless to stop it. Looking around for anything to help I see a box nearby and a hatch in the floor is raised, my heart skips a beat and a half.

Confirming I am completely trapped he places earpieces in my ears and a hood over my head to lock them in, I can still see and theres holes for my tubes, my hair poking through the back as it always does. Lifting me into the box Im glad to feel and see its padded with foam covered in black silk, I barely fit in there but he manoeuvres me into the box without much difficulty. Pushing my tubes and earpiece cables through the wooden lid, I know that when he closes it I wont be able to open it without first releasing myself, highly unlikely, as he seals me in I feel my new home lifted again and then lowered, landing with a soft thud I hear another lid closing, Im in another, bigger box.

Before I think this could get much worse for me I hear something in my ears, its soft but among the words are “slave.. submit.. property..” its too quiet to make out what words that are in-between.. Drinking in the darkness thats swallowed me my ass, pussy and clit hum to life with a speed that makes me jump, or I would but I could only manage a slight twitch, these binding were too strong for me. Hearing nothing over the humming the words grow louder in my ears! Hearing it clear as if spoken right in front of me its saying “you are now a slave, you will submit as you are now property”. Eyes widening further as it repeats in my ears, its all I can hear, the hum of my tormentors only scratching at the noise Im hearing. Above me, hard at work my new Master has plugged my mouths tube to a tube under the floor, my nose tube running up the legs on the table placed above me, noone will know Im even there at all.

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Waiting patiently on my bed for my Master he enters wearing a black suit, looking incredible as always and seemingly effortless I stand and let him inspect my clothes. “very nice indeed, youll be the life of the party” he says with a smile. Leading me downstairs as someone knocks at the door, the guests have arrived. Standing up straight as my pussy relentlessly pulses juice down my legs I lower my head as the guests enter, Women and Men dressed for a fancy dinner, 3 even bringing slaves of their own. The party begins and everyone has a chance to mingle, I stand at my Masters side as he brags about me to his friends, I wait patiently, unable to speak without permission as a hour passes.

Making his way onto a elevated platform my Master calls for attention. “im so glad so many of you came to enjoy the show, my slave has been denied for days on end with potent drugs keeping her thighs slick with her pre.” pointing at my legs, they shine with my fresh coatings, I blush as everyone looks at me. “let the entertainment commence!” my Master shouts as he takes my hand and pulls the cloth off of a small box on the platform. A Sybian with a large, hollow dildo with holes all over it, it will fill me and collect my juices and cum completely. Without wasting time my Master tears my dress from my body as I scream at the aggressiveness, other men hold my arms as my Master removes my belt from my hips and with a loud clang it hits the floor. Pulling me down Im forced onto the dildo, it sliding effortlessly inside me and metal restraints are secured around my legs and waist, a armbinder goes around my arms and is pulled painfully tight in a way that pulls my elbows together, thrusting my bare breasts out for all to marvel at.

The crowd gazing at me as my Master puts a large glass bowl with a hole in its base on a tube protruding from the ground, clearly, whatever goes in that bowl is going down that tube. My Master doesnt go easy on me as the sybian bursts to life and I start my orgasmic fuelled torture, cumming only microseconds after the first vibration, inserting the dildo having brought me to the brink, within seconds Im screaming again as I cum again and again. My Master pulls a gag out of his pocket and silences my screams as men and women surround me and the men start stroking their cocks while the women rub their clit, being told by my Master to cum in the bowl as much as they want with 4 men obliging immediately, shooting hot cum in the bowl as it flows down the tube to its destination as my eyes roll back into my head, a never-ending orgasmic hell of a day ahead.

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

“You are now a Slave, you will Submit as you are now Property.. You are now a Slave, you will Submit as you are now Property” it burns into my mind! Etching itself into my very core as my orgasms continue to crest and flow, my pussy gushing and my blue hair wet with sweat I feel something touch my tongue. Its hot, sticky and tastes weird, opening my eyes in darkness as I realize its cum, and not a small amount either, It keeps flowing into my mouth! Jamming my tongue into the tip of the tube solves nothing as my new Master has drilled holes around the tip to ensure Im getting my food, its slick and coating my throat and Im forced to keep swallowing as my mind fills with my Masters words. “ You are now a Slave, you will Submit as you are now Property.”

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

Pleasure beyond imagination, thats all I am now. Orgasm after orgasm after orgasm being torn from my pussy with reckless Abaddon with no way to stop it, you tried thrashing around but they simply added a corset and posture collar to make it more fun. Nipples clamps bring the promise of pain and white pads on my thighs speak to a different pain as they light up with electricity. Flowing from 1 pad through my pussy and to the other pad, as well as from nipple to nipple. My screaming now escaping my gag as the currents keep increasing. Orgasms followed by pain only to be dulled by the next orgasm! its endless! a sharp pain on my chest causes me to look for the source, a man holding a flogger, my abused, electrified nipples copping more punishment from a man I dont know while my Master talks to his guests. 5 men now stand, beating off to the orgasming girl before them, cumming in the very full glass bowl and showing no signs of stopping, glancing to the table of food and drinks I see a glass with blue pills in it. This is going to continue for a long time as my Master steps up to me, hard cock in hand. “you must be hungry for something” he says, removing my gag only to replace it with his throbbing cock. Fucking my throat is easy enough at this point, I have no resistance to mount from my orgasmic overload, shooting his load down my throat I swallow as I cum in turn, moaning in a mix of pain and pleasure as the cock is removed. Another cock pushes into my mouth and fucks away, its 1 of my Masters guests making use of me and after he is done the cock is replaced with a soaked pussy, the woman grinding greedily away at my tongues assault on her horny folds.

Now men and women are cumming in the offering bowl, and I see a tube leading from the sybian to above the bowl, a clear fuid running into it, Im contributing to the offerings whether I like it or not, the vibrations increasing in speed catching me off guard I moan into the current pussy sealed around my mouth as my orgasmic pace quickens, now cumming with passion I didnt know I had the fluid from my pipe beating out the cum shooting from the men and women, Im easily besting them all by myself Though they havnt spent days being edged nonstop but if I only knew where it was going I wouldn't be turned on by that. More people join the line-up to fuck my face as I continue cumming. No longer having individual orgasms, they have fused into 1 continuous orgasm pouring cum into the dildo I straddle with reinforced need, I dont want this to end, Im afraid I'll never get a chance to cum again after today my arousal heightens as my mind goes blank.

Awakening in a familiar pose, I realize Im still straddling the sybian and it still going at full speed. Having passed out, even momentarily, my senses are through the roof now as I scream into the cock now in my throat. Cum flowing freely down my dildo and into the bowl as well as down my throat. People have started to calm down around me, the drug induced haze clearing from them, but not me as they are not bolted to a sybian at max speed. 1 by 1 the partygoers leave untill its just me and my Master, and a still maxed out sybian with a stream of cum flowing into the bowl, my Master places a chair infront of me and sits, cock in hand as he plays with his throbbing meat. Taking the opportunity to look around, the house is spotless, the only mess in the room is me with a cum stained face and the bowl before me. Shooting a fresh load into the bowl my Master laughs and walks away, leaving me to moan as the sybian does what it was build to do, and then some.

With a gut full of fresh cum Im unbolted from the hellish device, unable to stand under my own strength my Master carries me to a chair and sits me down, Im amazed Im not sitting on a dildo now, but my pussy feels sadly empty now, spending all day with it inside me I now miss it dearly. My Master turning off the sybian Im led to the showers where he cleans and massages Me, my Master always knew how to reward me after such a marathon. Towelling me off Im amazed that its 8pm already, how time flies when your having fun cumming in a whirl of pleasure, my chastity belt reattached when I return to my room, my ballet boots locked on and a latex hood and gloves are added. With a kiss on your head and a simple “Goodnight my Slave” I lay in bed and instantly fall asleep.

Walking down the stairs My Master stares at a rug under a table with a smile on his face. Turning to set up the next device will be fun knowing the blue haired beauty will be done in a few days time. “Sleep well my new Slave” he mutters under his breath with a laugh.

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 19

First time reader click here

Summary+TWs: We're talking serious feelings here, okay? Reader, you're literally emotionally illiterate. You also have PTSD, which is finally addressed - kinda. Bruce does his best. And he also knows how to kiss... But y'all know that if you read my ramblings about lucid dreaming/shifting/whatever... Chile-, anyways...

My phone kept buzzing and I ignored it until Bruce declared it was time to take a break and review the results. Whilst the man was typing up the data on a nearby StarkPad, I fought the sudden influx of messages that I received from haters and supporters alike after Tony decided on tweeting a reply that could be interpreted in an alarming variety of ways. It was a smart move, I'll admit, but a fucking bother for me nonetheless.

Disabling my DMs and dealing with a follower increase in the thousands wasn't hard; I didn't consider myself a problematic asshole and didn't need to be afraid of "exposure". The parties I went to - I doubted there was any blackmail material in there and the few nudes I'd sent over the years were always face-less. As a gen Z, I knew my internet safety.

The trolls didn't bother me either. It was more sad than annoying, people shitting on others for clout. Iron Man stans were witty, at least, if jealous. I must admit I've never considered the influx of popularity I would experience should I publicly out myself as a friend of Tony's. Girlfriend? Intern? Science child? Whatever cover story he was going to feed the press worked for me, as long as I still got the hugs, the kisses, the dick and the attention.

"Tony..." Bruce groaned, evidently done with the data processing, had to have opened his social media to see his own skyrocketing popularity.

"Yeah, our Tony is being a Tony again," I chuckled, having reset my social media settings so my phone wouldn't constantly beep, vibrate and bother me. School was going to be fun.

Bruce shook his head, fond, coming over to my side of the lab after removing his own hazmat suit. His eyes shiny with newfound knowledge and hair turned adorably fluffy in the confines of the head covering. He was smiling softly. "Food?"

"Sure."

We chewed our sandwiches in silence for a moment, each of us lost in our thoughts.

"I still can't believe Tony told everyone on Twitter you're his girlfriend, usually he keeps this stuff private or schedules a fancy press conference," Bruce's tone was thoughtful.

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that what it was? Seemed ambiguous to me..." I trailed off, confused.

"He worded it like that on purpose, I mean, you're still in high school," The scientist was confident in his words. "But I know Tony. I'm a hundred percent sure that he meant exactly that. Aren't you?"

Shock flooded me. Suddenly, I understood I completely misread the situation. "Um, no? I thought we were, y'know, just fucking. We never defined our relationship and we're definitely not exclusive." I said, chewing on my lip. "You make a valid argument, I'm a high school student and he's a grown ass man that does grown man stuff. Putting aside the fact that he could have anybody in the world so why would he choose me?" I was rambling, thinking out loud. Discussing my feelings has never my strong forte. "It would be stupid to impose monogamy on such a complex man like Tony. Downright idiotic to expect a genius to confine to social norms just because it suits others." I finished with a wave of my hand. Another bubble of thought that had festered within me for the longest time. I felt relieved, finally voicing it out loud. A weight had been lifted off my shoulders, a weight I wasn't previously consciously aware of.

Bruce was watching me intently, with an unreadable expression that held the tiniest bit of awe, admiration perhaps. The silence that followed was unnerving. I fidgeted with my hands, not really knowing where to put them or where to look.

"You know," He took off his glasses, fiddling them in his hands. "I'm not going to sugar coat it. For the longest time, I thought you were going to inadvertently hurt him when you get bored with whatever you've got going on. I respect you, don't misunderstand me, but you are young. Now, I've changed my mind. You've changed my mind," He punctuated his statement with his hand on mine, grasping it. "I think you managed to understand him in a way most people can't. Or don't want to. Understand and accept him in a way that some of us can't even after years of working and living side by side with him." Bruce's gentle fingers skimmed along the top of my palm.

"I don't always understand Tony but I do accept him," I agreed. "Because Tony is a great man."

"I think you're in love with him," Bruce said, absolutely having ignored my previous statement. Just like that, point blank, he pushed to the surface the very feelings I got so good at ignoring. There was no rest for me in this place.

My heart fluttered, picking up the pace. I kept my mouth shut, not trusting it whatsoever. My thoughts became akin to panicked hares, jumping and zigzagging aimlessly in my skull. I didn't see the point in defending myself because the scientist had pointed out the obvious.

Bruce looked at me, softly, warmly. "And don't think we haven't noticed the rise in team morale. The improvement not only in communication, but on the battlefield, too. It's easier to entrust your back to someone with whom you've shared a laugh and a drink the previous night. You're the glue that keeps us together."

Something warm and wet was on my cheeks. I stared at our clasped hands, his words echoing in my head over and over and over. The moment I realized I was crying, I willed myself to stop and failed spectacularly - only more salty fluid streamed down, some of it getting in my nose, on my lips. The sleepless nights were making me unstable.

It took a single sniffle for Bruce to pick me up and wrap up in his kind embrace. I didn't resist, tucking my face into the crook of his neck, holding onto the back of his lab coat, inhaling the smell of his skin and chemicals. It was familiar, calming. Minutes ticked by with me slowly leaking the tension out of my body.

"He loves you, too, maybe he just doesn't realize it yet." Bruce whispered into my hair. "I've never seen Tony so happy, even with Pepper. You are special and you are loved."

There was something unsaid, I felt it. It hung in the ear, it burned the tips of my ears, stood sharp on the tip of my tongue. "I love you too, Bwucie-bear," I whispered into the space between his ear and his jaw. His arms tightened around me.

The man placed several chaste kisses in my hair, running a palm over my back. In moments like these, the crush for him, the very crush that got out of control, blossomed fully into a deep sense of respect and admiration. He made me feel safe. He said all the right words at the right time.

Drowsiness overtook me. As usual, any worries and anxieties I had evaporated, once Banner had his arms around me, shielding me from the world. I didn't forbid myself this time: delicately, my hand slipped through the man's soft messy curls, eliciting a contented sigh.

"You haven't been sleeping well," He more stated than asked.

I had no choice but to nod. "Clint keeps dying in my dreams. Or even worse, he doesn't, he just suffers, endlessly, painfully." I admitted.

Bruce flinched under me, tensing. My face was in between his hands in a second, the scientist sternly looking into my eyes. "Why didn't you say anything? All of us assumed you were okay after what happened." He looked - angry. Not Hulk-out pissed but Bruce-pissed, which equalled a kicked-puppy look seasoned with a great pinch of disappointment.

"I am okay." I lied, shamelessly. "It's getting better. That's why I want to have a party - relax a little, dance, socialize. I don't think Tony would let me go on my own so I figured I can convince him to throw one here." I looked away. It was better for everyone if I dealt with my own problems - they were superheroes, not babysitters.

Bruce frowned. "Why wouldn't Tony let you go?"

"Because of that one time I snorted coke," I rolled my eyes at Bruce's naiveté, leaving the less obvious parts unsaid. Tony knew exactly what I was going to do once I got free reign, he considered it destructive and told me so himself. Admittedly, he had a point but still... I wished I'd been given a choice.

"I'll talk to him," Bruce nodded firmly. "That's not acceptable. He can't forbid you from making mistakes and learning from them."

He was met with my shrug. No excitement came from me regarding this particular turn of conversation. I was drained, limbs like jello, thoughts sluggish. My face was drooping.

"Let's get you to bed," Banner stood up with me wrapped around him. "You need a nap."

"No," I protested. If I went to sleep now, only Satan knew at what ungodly hour I would wake up.

"Yes, Princess," Bruce smirked. I wiggled uncomfortably - when he went all caretaker like, my ovaries wreaked havoc on my body and brain. My thoughts weren't appropriate if Bruce wanted me to see him as a father figure. The signals he was sending were mixed. People around me did that a lot and I wasn't sure how to act so I usually just went with the flow. I decided to do the very same thing in that particular moment.

Curiosity sparked within me, tightly interwoven with the deep longing that settled below my collarbones whenever Tony or one of the others wasn't sitting next to me or talking my ear off. I've almost forgotten how it was to be alone with my thoughts. The maze of my very own self was becoming unfamiliar territory. Alarming.

I allowed Bruce to help me shed my shoes and outer layer of clothing, shivering in the coolness of my room. Despite being a frequent visitor, I still had a 'guest' room in the tower - I mostly stayed at Tony's or Wanda's anyways. During our sleepovers neither me nor the witch minded sharing her enormous bed, to be fair, we could have fit at least two more people in it besides us. Tony took care of his own - all the tower's residents had their apartments furnished with the best stuff.

"Sleep now, Princess," Bruce chastised, tucking a blanket around me, having noticed an earbud in my ear and my smartphone in my hand. I had hoped to kill some time online, damn well knowing sleep wouldn't come easy.

"I don't think I can fall asleep, Bruce," I admitted, looking away. There was just so much going on. My brain wouldn't shut up and if I couldn't drown out the cacophony by being productive, I'd troll the internet, as usual.

Banner sighed, coming to sit next to me, leaning against the headboard. Gently running his fingers through my hair, brushing the outside of his palm against my cheek. "How do you usually deal with this?"

Involuntarily, my eyelashes fluttered. "Tony does most of the work," I admitted coyly. The engineer had a whole arsenal of tricks up his sleeve - sexy and exhausting tricks.

"I see," Bruce muttered, thoughtfully.

I opened my eyes to see him looking down at me with a look I haven't seen before. The usual mildly absent, slightly anxious face he wore was replaced by something I could only describe as hurt envy, like a kid looking at their schoolmate who had all the newest, coolest toys. I used to be on the receiving end of that look far too often and I hated it.

I hid my face against his leg, rubbing my cheek on the raspy corduroy fabric of his pants. "Got any good ideas of your own?" I wondered lowly, thinking about what in the world possessed Bruce to wear corduroy trousers on a semi-casual day, in the twenty-first century.

"Only bad ideas," He replied in a matching low tone. His soft fingertips relocated to my nape, goosebumps rising down my back.

"Humour me," I grinned against his leg.

Bruce was quiet for a moment, the sound of his thinking screaming louder than any words could have done. Knowing the scientist so closely, I found out he was full of surprises - bolder than he appeared outwardly and competitive to a boot. He thought he had a lot to prove to himself and by extension, to others. The unknown, the mystery dangling in front of my nose was exhilarating, trepidation addictive. It took me away from the chaos in my mind.

A gentle grasp on my chin had me turning to look upwards, Bruce's face flushed and focused on my own, open and trusting. He needed to see the obvious, that I trusted him to take care of me. He pulled and I followed, sitting up on my elbows, coming up to his shoulder level, our faces inches apart, enveloped in the unique, intense scent of his herbal tea. It was a tart, strong smell and it suited his quiet but passionate character.

Once, twice, I caught my eyes sliding to his plump lips. They looked far too appealing in this position. I usually strategically stayed away from positions so compromising, fearing the very thing that I'd already let happen, however this time the atmosphere was different. We stood on ambiguous grounds, waiting for Bruce to make a decision.

The man wasn't stupid, he saw the way I looked at him. The nightmares and inability to take a break from life put a significant dent in my resolve to keep a distance between us, romantically - I could have settled even for a pity kiss, a pity fuck. Anything to put my brain on pause.

His lips were softer than I had imagined. Skilled, too, he easily steered the kiss into the shallow waters of our combined longing.

With Tony, it was like an avalanche. Tony ran hot like Peterbilt engines, hard and fast, almost angry in his race for satisfaction. Tony was a man that was used to getting whatever he wanted and it became plainly obvious when we fucked.

Bruce was the opposite. He savoured the kiss, losing himself in a way that could almost be described as delicate. Bruce was humming, softly, as we tasted each other, holding the left side of my face with careful fingertips. Almost as if he was afraid to break me. The feel of his skin on mine was soothing in a way that made me sigh and relax even further.

"Wanna make you feel good." His voice had dropped, gone husky, but his breathing held even. He must know all about self-control.

"Yeah," I was ready to agree with whatever the fuck he was offering. My eyelids remained shut.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

PS. Letsby, please don't combust. The underwear is coming off in the next chapter. 😶