#white paint in the center of that one to be able to see the slight color variation. learned a LOT this time and excited to do more in the

[volfoss]

Took pics of the best turned out eyes in his head from yesterday :)

In order:

A dark blue with some gold star decals, gold with some glitter (learned the glitter does NOT photograph well the way I do it lol. Things to keep in mind for next time), light blue with dark blue glitter, dark brown with a cherry cola glitter (it catches the light and looks pink in person but all the painting I did barely shows up bc of how dark brown it is lol), and white (I kind of wanted it to look like the eye chip was removed and just the underlying area remained)

[authorhjk1]

A request for Sana's delicious tiddies please!

https://www.instagram.com/p/C0dZRXrvuyU/?igshid=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==

The Roman goddess

Minatozaki Sana X Male Reader

The museum you are strolling through is called Castel Sant' Angelo. It used to be tomb for the Roman Emperor Hadrian and his family. Now, it's a very well known museum in Rome.

You admire the architecture and the sculptures standing around. The ceilings are quite high. All the walls are painted, the gorgeous colors bringing the ancient scenes to life.

You are not only here for fun though. It started around two years ago. Your career as an author. Until December two years ago, you did write, but it was more for yourself. You finally made your breakthrough with your first novel "The Roman eagle", about a lowly born Roman legionary, who rises through the ranks. You never thought this would make you big. And you didn't expect so many people wanting more. You didn't plan on it, but that one book is slowly turning into a series.

The second book came out at the end of last year. "The curse of Neptune". And now, you are working on your third. Since you didn't plan on writing a series, you have started to introduce several main characters with their own life stories.

You are now sitting on your third part. Not having a title yet, you keep wandering around the museum. You have already written quite a few pages, but the new character you want to introduce is hard to picture. It's supposed to be a woman. A woman, who is deceitful and ambitious, not caring about the ones around her. She only married her husband for his status and is now aspiring to climb the ranks. With or with out him.

You enter another room. The ceiling is high as well. The painted scenes show several different parts of day to day life from the Romans and their gods. The center of the room is reserved for a tall, almost life-size statue. Being an expert in history, especially Roman history, you can tell immediately that that's Venus. The goddess of love.

Wanting to have a closer look, you step forward. But your gaze is caught by the woman who is standing between you and the piece of art, her back turned towards you.

Her posture is flawless and you can't help but admire how straight her back looks, due to the white high heels she is wearing. The black skirt is quite long, almost reaching the floor. As you walk past her right, you see that it has a large slit in the front. Her naked leg is more than just captivating.

Glancing at the statue, you've always wondered how Venus would look like, if she was real. It feels like you might be able to paint a picture now.

The woman's white top is highlighting her chest, the fabric stretching over her tits. The turtle neck and the tied back hair make her look elegant and strict. Like a teacher or a rich man's wife.

Standing next to her, you smell her scent. Definitely flowers. Maybe roses? You were never the flower expert. Would Venus smell like this too? Roses are always considered the flowers of love. The idea doesn't seem too far fetched.

You notice that the young woman is standing quite close to the statue, holding a brochure in her hand. Usually, knowing about history isn't really a great turn on for women. But being in a museum, you might give it a try. She does have that classy look. So maybe she could be interested?

"Art and war should always be studied from a healthy distance."

You see her react. Not her face, since you are still standing two steps behind her, but the slight turn of her head. You could swear the corners of her mouth turned upwards, before she turns back towards the statue.

One step. Two steps. Her heels disrupt the silence in the otherwise empty room.

"A lot of people think that Venus and Aphrodite are the same goddess."

You were able to take a quick peek at the brochure she is holding. The people who work here should do a better job.

"But they have quite a couple of differences."

You wait a couple of moments. She doesn't say something or turns around. But she didn't run, which is at least a good start.

"While Aphrodite is the goddess of love, beauty and sex, Venus has to offer more than just that."

You walk behind the young woman, starting to feel comfortable, talking about a topic you are very familiar with.

"She actually started out as the goddess of gardens and vineyards. Before the Romans merged her with her Greek counterpart. And even then, she represents not just lust and sex. But also motherhood. You could say that she is a more loyal woman."

You glance at the woman, whom you are standing next to now. Her left side profile almost makes you stutter. She really must be a goddess.

Knowing that you might never meet someone like her ever again, you decide to shoot your shot. What's the worst that could happen? She could scream and run away. But it's only the two of you anyway.

"Which form is the one you can more easily identify with? The Roman, or the Greek one?"

You stand next to her, your shoulders almost touching. Turning your head towards her you almost whisper.

"Loyal? Or promiscuous?"

A smirk plays around the brunette's lips. She is not running yet.

But to your huge disappointment, she raises her right arm, her hand on the same hight as her chest. You are only distracted for a second, before you see the golden ring on her finger. It's decorated with a huge diamond in the center and a couple of smaller ones all around.

Of course she is married. A woman like her? Come on. You sigh internally. You should've figured.

"Promiscuous."

You were about to turn around as you hear her sweet voice. It takes you a second to realize what she says.

"I think I would be more like Aphrodite."

Is she saying you still have a shot? Even when she just showed you that she is married?

"Tell me more. I'm not sure if I can make a decision yet."

And she wants you to keep talking?

You take a deep breath, not wanting to screw this up.

"Venus has a more elevated status than Aphrodite. Her arguably most famous human son is Aeneas. The man who established Rome. A lot of emperors' wifes identified with Venus."

You see the woman tug a strand of her brown hair behind her ear.

"And you are saying that the Greek form wasn't as important?"

It's the first time she actually looks at you. Her beautiful features make her look way more elegant than from the side. Her lipstick makes her look stricter than she might usually would. You can tell that she is Asian, but not from which country.

"She was important. But not in the same way as Venus. She did have her own celebrations though."

The brunette is now fully turning towards you. It takes a lot of willpower to not look at her chest. It's almost as if she could sense your struggle. She places her hands on her hips, barely leaning forward. It makes her tits look just a little bigger.

"What kind of celebration?"

Her voice has changed. Until now, she spoke quiet. Just like someone should, while visiting a museum. But she is now whispering. Just like you did before. Her captivating gaze makes you stare into her eyes.

"A big part of the celebrations were Aphrodite's priestesses. The Greeks used a suiting form of worship for the goddess of love."

You take a step closer. Your shoe grazes hers. The smell of roses becomes a little stronger.

"They slept with her priestesses. That's how they worshipped her."

The brunette is unable to hold back her chuckle.

"And you are sure you didn't just make that up?"

For a moment her cute side shines through. She looks adorable when she smiles.

"I didn't. You can look it up."

"I don't want to though. I like listening to you."

"Well..."

You are too surprised to give a good answer. And there is not much more to say about the topic anyways.

The brunette seems to have caught up on that.

"What do you think about worshiping her now?"

"What?"

Your surprised face makes her almost moan out. You looked quite confident while hitting on her. The fact that you are getting shy is a turn on for her.

"There aren't many people here. And I think we should do it in front of the statue. You know? To pay our respects."

A million reasons why you shouldn't do this rush through your head. More than enough to say no. And yet, you can't help but catch yourself, leaning forward.

Your lips meet and you can immediately feel her hands wrap around your back. The kiss turns sloppy very fast. Pure lust and want radiate from her lips.

Once she breaks away, you can see that her lipstick is a little smeared. She seems to have recognized the worry in your eyes.

"Don't worry about my husband. Didn't Aphrodite constantly cheat on hers too?"

She got a point there. She did very much so.

Her lips meet yours once again. And this time your hands start to explore her body as well.

You still can't believe you've managed to come this far. She is probably the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. She could be the human form of the goddess.

"How bad do you want my tits?"

The fact that she caught you doesn't even bother you. Your mind too focused on taking in her flawless body.

"Really bad."

Her lips meet your neck, definitely leaving a hickey there.

"Show me."

You start pulling at the white fabric, getting it out of her skirt. Your hands dive underneath as the brunette locks lips with you again.

The smoothness of her skin is intoxicating. Her tight midriff feels well toned and cared for. Your fingertips reach her bra as you continue your quest.

Her hands are not idle either. You feel one of them opening the button of your pants, while the other has taken a fistful of your shirt. It's as if she is pulling you into her. Her hand sneaks into your pants, her fingers searching for the waistband of your underwear.

At the same time, you've finally gotten rid of her bra. It slides down her clothed frame, before it falls to the ground. It's white.

Her tits feel amazing. They are just as smooth as her skin. You start to knead them, still unable to understand how you got here.

She is a goddess. How are you able to stand in some museum, while you play with her tits? A mystery you don't even want to uncover. Some things are better left unknown.

The brunette's hand has found it's way into your boxers by now. Her slim fingers dance along the length of your shaft.

A moan escapes her lips. It's one of the most beautiful sounds you've ever heard. You didn't know that a person could sound so perfect.

"That cock of yours...."

She trails off, slightly biting your lower lip.

"It feels so big."

Her words make you even harder. A normal reaction to a goddess like beauty telling you that you have a big dick. Something you thought you would never ever experience in your life.

Your hands become a little rougher as your animalistic instincts slowly take over. You never felt so uncontrollable before.

Pinching her nipples, you hope for another moan. You get one. She moans into your mouth, closing her hand around your cock.

"I want this in my mouth."

You feel her pulling away. Your hands regretfully leave her tits and her top. But when she starts to kneel down, a wave of pure happiness washes through your body.

An excited tingle rushes through every fiber of your being as you watch her pulling down your pants. Your boxers following quickly after.

A gasp escapes her mouth, when she sees your cock for the first time.

"My husband isn't even half as big."

With a big smile, her face turns into something very cute. She gives your tip a kiss.

"A cock worthy of fucking my tits."

Her words turn you on even more. Her lips slowly wrap around your tip.

It takes her a while to pick up the pace. But once the brunette is there, her blowjob is quick and effective. You remember that you are still in a museum, standing pants down in front of a statue of Venus.

You are not a very religious person. But in that moment, you pray to that goddess, thanking her for this incredible experience.

Your prayer is interrupted by the brunette's slurping sounds. Her wet blowjob has ruined her lipstick completely by now. She looks so hot with your cock in her mouth. She places both her hands flat on your hips, before starting to fuck her face onto your cock.

You can't help but let out a loud groan, your hand automatically wanders to the back of her head. You don't start to dictate the pace. But you feel her head going a little faster.

With a woman like her, it's obvious that you won't last long. Especially if said woman fucks her face with your cock. You feel your orgasm approaching. The familiar tug in your lower regions makes you groan.

The brunette seems to have felt you twitch inside her mouth. She moves away, letting your dick fall out off her lips.

"You have a very delicious cock, you know?"

Not waiting for an answer, she starts to pull up her top. It's bunched up above her breasts. You are finally able to see them now. They seem perfectly shaped. Flawless like the ones of a goddess. Not too small, but not too big either. Just perfect handfuls.

"Try not to cum so fast."

Her wink turns her into something cute for just a moment. Then, her goddess like aura is back.

You feel her soft mounds wrap around you. She presses them together, making your cock disappear between them. As soon as she seems ready, you start to thrust upwards. You see her bite her lip as your tip appears in her cleavage.

Fucking her tits feels amazing. It feels better than anything you've experienced before. There is no comparison at all. Her soft mounds feel like they are made for you. Her warmth makes you feel hot and horny.

Eventually, she starts to stick out her tongue. It touches your tip whenever you thrust upwards. The new wetness on your tip makes you remember that your orgasm is close. It also helps with sliding trough her chest.

You have to hold onto her hair again, unable to stand by yourself.

"Your cock feels so good."

You hear her sigh as she stares down at it.

She suddenly looks up, opening her mouth, while sticking her tongue out. Her spit slowly starts to drip down her tongue. You watch as she drools all over her own cleavage. Her saliva starts to coat your cock. It makes her tits feel even smoother.

The young woman let's out another moan.

"I bet you would feel so good in my pussy."

You close you eyes, imagining yourself inside of her. The thought alone, almost makes you orgasm.

"My husband is so small, I'm practically a virgin."

She continues her talking, knowing what it does to you.

"I've never felt the pleasure of someone just pounding into me. I want to feel it. I want to feel how you rearrange my guts."

You hiss out, unable to silence the pleasure that is building up in your system. Only a little longer. You only want to hold out a little longer.

"I have such a tight pussy. You would love it."

Your grip in her hair strengthens as you approach your climax.

"That's it. Cum on my tits. Make Venus proud."

You glance at the statue for just a second. It feels like the woman on her knees is the real goddess. A beauty, too much for you to handle.

"I'm gonna cum."

You grunt out, unable to hold on any longer.

"That's good, honey. Cum on my tits. Use them like a canvas."

You groan one last time.

"Give me all of it."

You explode in her cleavage. Your cum hits her throat and chin, while some coats her tits. It feels like this is the strongest orgasm you've ever had. More cum than usual leaves your body.

In the end, her tits are covered in your semen, just like she wanted. Some is dripping down her chin. You see that her hands didn't get away without some, either. A few drops of your cum stain the big diamond on her ring. She notices it as well.

You watch in awe as she starts to lick her ring clean, after letting your spent cock leave her tits.

"Wow. That's a great load."

She scoops up some of your cum with her finger.

"And it tastes good, too."

She licks it off, before looking at you.

"What do you say? Right here? Or a hotel room?"

The option to say no doesn't even enter your brain. Still afraid of getting caught, you choose the hotel.

The brunette gets off her knees. You watch her pull her top down and putting the hem back into her skirt. Slowly, your cum starts to leave wet spots on the fabric. You pick up her bra, offering it to her.

"Keep it. Maybe you are lucky and you can complete the set."

With those words still lingering in your mind, she takes your hand, leading you towards the exit.

You've never head a clear picture of Venus or Aphrodite in your mind. Now you do. It's the woman who is holding your hand, her chest covered with your cum.

The fact that she is taking you to a hotel is making you hard again.

With one last glance at the statue, you finally know how to continue your next book.

The third part "The Roman goddess" will certainly become a bestseller.

________

Thank you for the ask. I unfortunately don't have the time to write much more.

The introduction seems a little long to me. Please keep sending short requests guys, I'm trying to shorten the part where I set the scene. With limited success as you can see.

Sana in that outfit definitely deserves a proper story, which I'm unable to write at the moment. I hope you are satisfied with that. I might be able to write the follow up somewhere in the future.

Have a nice day!

[t-tomuras]

Pairing: Khal Katsuki Bakugou x F!reader

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings: slight praise ( use of good girl ), slight impact play, hair pulling, reader has long-ish hair but type is non-descript, noncon -> dubcon, mentions of murder (unnamed characters), threats, creampie

Notes: Game of Thrones au-esque. Just a polished draft purge, very loose on the game of thrones like such basic knowledge.

You weren’t afraid of him, even as you’re dressed in sheer fabrics of pristine white instead of the tattered clothing you’d been found in, covered in the blood of your enemies as you’d felled them all in a circle of carnage around you. Adorned in delicate gold chains instead of protective iron but your hair is still done in its signature braid, even if it’s intricately decorated now as well. 

The women who dressed and preened you advised otherwise, that the braid meant something different to the Dothraki; as if you didn’t understand that well. You wore your braid because you were a warrior yourself, undefeated. A woman that would sooner rip a man’s throat out with her teeth than submit for her life. Even delicate creatures become violent when backed into a corner. 

And the Khal would not be receiving some broodmare, whether he believed so or otherwise. You were someone to be earned, not that you figured the commander of a horde that burned down your village and captured you would be able to. 

He likes you though, obviously enough, sees the fire in your eyes accompanied by the thinly veiled sneer and barely there crease in your brow as you fight the furrow. You spit at the smug smirk he gives following his nod when he turns to the bloodriders on his heels, chuckling even as he dismisses them and advances on you. 

You were offered as a spoil, lessened to that of some prize to a conqueror; a man with grandiose dreams, believed to be the stallion that mounts the world but so far he’s only interested in mounting you. He was no better than any other man you’d ever met, built the same as the few you’d allowed to warm your bed.

He circles you now like you’re prey he’s cornered, smirking when the vile scowl on your features never wavers. Following his movements with your eyes and only turning your head when he moves behind you before his broad palm wraps around your upper arm.  

Katsuki only manages one sharp tug, making you stumble for only a moment as you growl. Infuriated by the mocking bark of laughter he emits, delighting in your fury. But, when he looks at you again you push all of the saliva to pool at the tip of your tongue before forcing it forward, letting the glob land on his cheek and further ruin the smeared ceremonial paint. 

You’re ready for a fight, for the seemingly assured retaliation to the insult but still the smirk on his face only splits into a broad grin before he erupts into a hearty laugh. You’re audacious, spirited to say the least and if he didn’t fully believe you’d single-handedly taken down a few of his riders before he could certainly see it now. 

And it makes his cock swell, throb needily as it tents the loose fabric of Katsuki’s pants before he’s wrenching you towards his tent at the center of their camp. Your struggling is no issue, easy for him to drag your feet in the loose sand and gravel as you try to dig them in for purchase but it only prolongs the inevitable. 

He shoves you unceremoniously to the small gathering of pelts and pillows amassed to form a makeshift bed the moment you’re both passed the privacy flap of fabric. 

“I like them when they fight,” rugged Dothraki dialect growled into your ear, bunching the fragile material you’d been presented in while you writhe, some of the stitchings popping and tearing from the force of both movements. Kicking out, the heel of your foot manages to make contact with his crotch, but he’s hardly fazed save for a sudden exhale and growing snarl. 

A snarl that becomes manic when he takes hold of your forearm and twists it behind your back, effectively pinning you. Quelling the fight easily though you still squirm, infuriating you with his taunt as he exposes your cunt to his hungry gaze, “keep wiggling yer ass.”

You thrash uselessly, sliding on the furs until you’re flat on your stomach but Katsuki rectifies the position easily. Pulling your hip back up with one arm before returning to push down his bottoms, heavy cock springing free and bobbing with the weight of it. Prodding toyingly at your backside, beading precum smearing against the underside of your asscheek followed by your inner thigh before he aligns himself with your slit. 

“Good girl,” he groans appreciatively in the common tongue when you clench your legs tightly, giving him a decent squeeze as he ruts along your folds. Cursing your body for its response, sighing exasperatedly as sticky sounds begin to grow in volume, “knew you’d like it rough.” 

All you can do is grit your teeth, hiding your face as he coats himself just enough before feeling him nudge at your entrance. One, two testing prods before Katsuki stretches you gradually, but only for the thick tip. Sinking in impatiently the moment he really gets a feel of your divine heat and you’re thankful the cocky brute can’t see the slight roll to your eyes or curl of your toes at the feel of him. 

You opt to just grit and bear it, turning your head in your folded arm to glare at him from the corner of your eye. Katsuki catches your gaze instantly, smirk growing as he sets his pace. Pelvis slapping against your backside with each thrust and you turn to face forward after he releases your arm. Bringing it forward to let it rest and the throbbing pain from being held firmly behind you to ebb but you’re only given a minute of reprieve. 

It seems the great Khal isn’t interested in letting you just lie there until he is done. What was the fun in that? None to be had if he didn’t pull sweet sounds from you, noises he doesn’t intend to let you bite back in the slightest. You can hide from him but you can’t hide the way your walls flutter around his girth with each plunge, buried to the hilt each time in a way that had you biting your tongue to inhibit a moan. 

With a toothy grin and quirked brow, Katsuki leans forward, cockhead nudging at a sensitive patch as he nestled deeply with the movement. His hand pushes your thick braid to the side, over your shoulder so his chest is mostly flush to your back. Humid puffs of breath fanning over the shell of your ear and back of your neck distracting you from how he toys with the length of your woven hair. Stroking it carefully before twirling it to wrap around his palm once but you only register his, “don’t hide from me,” as if you were his willing lover and bride. 

“Repulsive pig,” you bite in his native tongue, imbuing as much animosity in your tone as you can despite the pleasure that builds in you.  

Katsuki leans back up, spine straight with that same insufferable smirk on his face, gaze never faltering under your glare before his features morph. The lazy look to him bleeds into something manic, like he’d just found his enemies weakness in the battlefield and perhaps that was true with what he does next. 

He moves his arm quickly, the winding of your braid wrapped twice around his fist as he pulls and forces your body upward. Arching as you’re forced into a new position and a throaty moan rips from your lips unbidden with how you feel him now. Cunt hugging his cock and squeezing as he holds you like this for a moment. Barking out a mean spirited laugh before he taunts, “Pretty pussy doesn’t find me so repulsive now does she? Fuck, you like that don’t ya? Course ya do, nothins better than a good fuck after killin a man.” 

Hissing through your pants as he angles his hips so each roll of his hips drives him perfectly into you to send waves of pleasure with each thrust. He pulls harder on your braid, worsening the already near painful arch and forcing your head back when he places a harsh slap to your ass. Lips to your ear as he firmly grasps your hip and pushes you into another of his pointed thrusts, “ain’t that right?” 

Your eyes roll at how well Katsuki fills you, how deep he reaches and perfectly he drags you to the edge of euphoria with each nudge of his fat tip to that patch within you. He’s merciful for only a moment whenever you hiss out a venomous, “yes.” Admitting to the enjoyment you took in stealing some of his men’s lives before ultimately overpowered. 

You fall forward, fisting the fine furs that the Khal now takes you on as the pleasure becomes too much. The coil in your lower belly wound tightly until you’re finally tipped over the edge with the final stroke that proves to be his own undoing as well. Pushing your face into the plush material from the force of his last rut, burying as deeply as he can into you as he paints your velvet walls in thick spurts. His pelvis flush with the curve of your ass before he slowly rocks you through the waves of euphoria, working you both down slowly. Thick digits massaging into your hips in a stark contrast to the rough coupling mere moments prior.

You roll to your back in the cushy pelts of Bakugou’s makeshift bedding after he pulls his softened cock from your abused cunt, panting for breath in your post ecstasy bliss. Head lolling lazily to the side opposite of where Katsuki now lays next to you, taking stock of the rest of his tent while he remains still. He only casts a curious glance in your direction when he sees you shift but lets his heavy lids slip shut. 

“Do you want to know what’s better than a good fuck, my Khal?” You keep your tone even as you turn to face him once again, sitting up as he merely hums in response. 

You’re on him in the next moment, knees digging aggressively into the crooks of his elbows to keep them pinned to the ground as you straddle his chest. Your fingers hold fast to the biting hilt of his versatile arakh, positioning it so the curve of the weapon rests along the slope of his throat with a delicate yet deadly poise. So close that the bob of his adams apple creates a tiny slit in his skin, warm crimson weeping from the wound as you grin down at the mighty man. 

“Freedom.”

[chrisbbygyal]

Tennessee Whiskey Pt. 2

Pairing: Ari Levinson x Black! Reader

Warnings:  18+ SMUT, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap the willy) creampie??? Oral (fem receiving), angst, Ari is a sweet southern boy, who knows what he wants. Minors DNI!!!!!!!!!

Word count: 2.5k

You can’t exactly remember how you got into Ari’s place but here you were, sitting on an expensive leather couch that you wouldn’t expect a man like Ari to have, in the middle of an almost completely bare living room besides moving boxes and a random flatscreen sitting against the far wall on top of what seemed to be a halfway assembled entertainment center. Ari’s house was large but it wasn’t too big. It seemed to be tucked away from the rest of the world and you could tell just by looking up at it as you 2 pulled into the driveway that it was going to be a fixer-upper. The house was surrounded by thick woods but the driveway had a fountain in the center of it. You knew instantly that it had been a family home just from the energy and the chipping white paint from the outside, plus there were a few wind chimes still hanging onto the front porch and one was shaped like a butterfly. You remember the feeling of it grazing your fingertips as you reached your nail upwards to touch it.  Ari had explained that it was his aunt’s home before her husband passed and your children had grown up and out of the house. All alone in that big house, his aunt wasn’t able to handle it so she had moved back to Tennessee where Ari’s family was from. He told you that  he moved out here to fix it up in case his cousins wanted it when they started their family. Afterwards, he let you know that he loved a challenge before winking at you. 

You were sitting alone in the room. While the house was almost empty, there was still a comfortable, homey feeling to it and you just related it to the story Ari had told you about his aunt. The sounds of glasses clinking knocked you out of your thoughts. You looked towards the kitchen to see Ari holding a wine glass with one hand and a wine bottle with the other, you also noticed that he had a tucked whiskey bottle with a glass in his arm as he stood looking disheveled. You almost giggled at the look on his face.

“Sorry mama, not much of a wine drinker, so I had to dig up some whiskey for myself, hope ya’ like red. Keep it for special occasions,” he smirked. You nodded up at him and smiled. Making his way around the couch he sat down before pouring the wine in the glass and handing it to you. Once you had taken it, he grabbed the tucked glass and poured his own drink, but he just threw it back immediately with no hesitation, watching you closely as he did so. You smiled at him before sipping your own glass and cringing. 

“Not much of a drinker myself Ari, this is really strong,” you coughed, sitting the glass down onto the coffee table in front of the two of you. Unintentionally, you placed your hand on his knee, not noticing the sharp intake of breath. “Hey, Ari, I just want to apologize and thank you for tonight again, it was chaos and I promise that I don’t often have this much going on around me,” You laughed. Ari smiled at you, like a full on smile, so wide that the corners of his eyes closed showing you his slight wrinkles.

“Mama, I don’t mind coming to save ya’, if anything I enjoy it. Now do you want to talk about it?” He poured himself another glass, this time though he only sipped it. You looked down swallowing. Ari, noticing your unsureness, sat his glass down and grabbed your hips, pulling you onto his lap. Using his thumb, he began to rub the portion of your skin that was now exposed as your shirt had ridden up. Fuck you were small and it sent Ari spiralling to the deep trenches of his wildest fantasies. He honestly had never been as attracted to someone as he was to you and it was driving him crazy. He tried to picture things that wouldn’t make his pants tight. Puppies, Butterflies, ice cream…… Fuck. You were so close and you smelled so good. But what Ari didn’t know is that you were doing the same thing to calm the ache between your legs. He took a deep breath before speaking. “You can tell me anything,” he whispered soothingly. You turned your head to look down at him to which he returned with a reassuring smile. You cleared your throat. 

“Jake was my first love. I met him in school, college, In Washington, it’s where i’m from. He was there because his Mom had sent him to live with his Dad  in high school after a few of his young screw ups. He decided to stay there for college and I met him Junior year in a business class. He was trying to find the website for the school’s bookstore and he conveniently had to ask me. After I gave it to him, he started to show up everywhere. The cafe that I loved to hang out in, the library a few tables down and in the courtyard of the student center, sitting in the corner where I usually sat. Now honestly thinking back, it seems as if I was being stalked but I didn’t see it that way. I had never been sought after by a guy, an attractive one at that and I jumped at the attention I was finally getting. I wasn’t the prettiest flower in the patch and-” you were interrupted by Ari. 

“Don’t speak like that pretty girl, you’re gorgeous,” he said, staring at you intensely. You gulped and looked down and began to pick at your nails as you continued, not wanting to meet the cold blues that were igniting something in you.

“Uhm, he asked me out and we started dating, we were always together. My work and grades began to slip and my parents were furious. They were paying so much money for me to go to this big university and I was throwing it all away. I tried to be back on task and it worked for awhile and then, I got pregnant. My parents kicked me out right before graduation and no one was there to watch me walk besides my grandparents and Jake’s family. Jake had promised me that he had a place for us to raise our family down in Georgia and right before we left, my grandparents gave me that pick up truck.We got down here and Jake’s mom hated me the first time she met me. She always made sly comments about me trapping Jake and about my race and I told Jake in the end she wasn’t to be around me or my child. Jake respected it and I knew he hated me for it. Just because I didn’t see her though, didn’t mean Jake couldn’t. He was always over there and every night, he’d come home a little bit drunker and meaner. I was 5 months when it happened. His mom had convinced him I had been cheating and that the baby wasn’t his so he came home that night furious. He uh,” you choked on your own words, feeling a knot in your throat, “He pushed me down the stairs and I lost the baby. I would’ve been able to save it had I immediately gone to the hospital but I passed out and he just stepped over me and went to bed. I would’ve had a little girl and she would have been turning 4 this year. And Uh, After I lost her, I decided I was going to get back to Washington, and I met Hursh, who gave me that job to help me save up. I’ve tried calling my parents but they never pick up. My brothers write every once in a while but the letters have stopped coming in. I’m sorry I don’t mean to trauma dump,” you laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes. 

Ari leans up and swipes a tear from your eye, “Don’t apologize doll, I’m glad you can confide in me. You’re gorgeous when you cry, though,” he speaks, wiping another. In that moment, you aren’t sure what comes over you, but the next thing you know, you’re leaning down and smashing your lips into his. It’s a heated kiss and you almost lose your breath. Ari grabs the back of your head to pull you closer and you let out a moan. 

“Fuck,” Ari groans pulling away, “If I don’t stop now I won’t be able to doll.” You lean down to kiss him again. 

“I don’t want you to Ari,” you throw your head back and moan as he grabs your ass and grinds you against him. He pulls you up, wrapping your legs around him, before making his way to the steps walking upwards continuing to kiss you. Making it up the steps Ari kicked open a door before your back met the soft cushion of a bed. 

“Fuck mama, you’re so perfect,” he grunts, beginning to kiss your neck. He leans up, breaking the kiss before beginning to take his shirt off, leaving only a single chain dangling from his neck. You took this as a sign to begin to take your clothes off too, starting with your tight jeans. As soon as you made the move, Ari gripped your hands and started  doing it himself. “You’re so pretty like this.” Ari pulled all of your clothes off and began to do his, watching you as he did so.

“Mama, it’s okay if you want to stop-” you shook your head to silence him, grabbing his neck to pull him down for a kiss. “Fuck!” he let out, “I don’t have a condom.” 

“Ari, I’m on the pill,” you spoke, wrapping your arms around his neck. His eyes darkened. This wasn’t like you, sleeping with some guy you just met, especially after just breaking up with your boyfriend, but something about Ari felt different, and you wanted to find out what. “Damn it, mama, I need you so bad.” Ari opened your legs and leaned down before licking a stripe upwards to your clit. “This pussy is so sweet, just for me. Gonna ruin you for anyone else, mama. You’re mine now.” With that, Ari dove in and ate it, leaving no crumbs at all. Your back arched off of the bed and you grabbed Ari’s hair, trying to get him to ease up, but he was unrelenting, continuing the torture on you. You moaned and your body began to shake as you came for the first time that night. You felt the stress leave your body as he continued. “You’re so sexy, you ready for me, baby?” Ari asked and kissed the side of your neck as he began rubbing himself against you, moaning at the feeling. You nodded your head, gripping his shoulders. Ari leaned over and began to press into you. Your mouth watered and your eyes almost crossed at the feeling of him. Ari’s legs almost gave out. You were squeezing him so tightly.

“Fuck baby, I need you to relax, if not I won’t last,” Ari almost collapses on top of you just because of the feeling. You dig your nails into his skin and lean up to try to kiss him. Ari coos at you and begins to move slowly. The agonizing pace made you throw your head back and hold on. 

“Daddy, please, I can’t,” you moan out, moving your hands frantically through his hair. When Ari heard you call him daddy, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He pulled all the way out before slamming back in and growling loudly. 

��Daddy’s got you baby, just close your eyes and let me make you feel good,” he sped up his pace, “just take it baby, okay. So pretty like this baby girl.” You squeezed Ari as you came again, your orgasm racking your entire body, and now it was his turn to whimper and throw his head back. When Ari let out the sexiest strained groan, you almost came again. Ari sped up his pace, prolonging the feeling and you screamed. 

“Fuck baby, I’ll give it all to you, take ya’ wherever you want. I’ll give you the house, the family, the kids, whatever you want, daddy’l give it to ya. Fuck, baby,” Ari let out a strained grunt, “I’m never leaving you alone woman, pussy feels so good, I’m gonna cum in you baby. You’re gonna take everything I’ve got huh, pretty baby?” Ari’s pace sped up, if that’s even possible and his hips stuttered. You felt his cum fill you, his face freezing up in a state of pure pleasure, and that’s when it happened. White hot pleasure bursted behind your eyes and you came, hard. Your vision blurred and you almost passed out, but Ari was there to keep you grounded, especially since all 200 pounds of his beefiness had collapsed on top of you. 

“Come on mama, let’s get you in the bath, huh?” Ari asked after you guys had come down a little bit from your highs. Your hips were still twitching and Ari noticed, sending a wink your way.

You giggled, and allowed him to pull out and pick you up, not before he spread your legs wider to watch his spend drip out. He groaned at the sight, grabbing you and taking you into a nice bathroom with a large tub in the corner. He sat you on the toilet seat and began to run the water to the bath, pouring soap that he had in a nearby moving box into the bath as it warmed up.

After the bath that Ari carefully gave you, he dressed you in a pair of boxers and one of his t-shirts and went to put your clothes and the sheets into the washing machine. At this point you had made your way down the stairs into the living room, and back onto the sofa, your tired legs folded underneath you. Ari walked back into the living room with two water bottles and a remote. He silently handed you one and sat down next to you, pulling you into your side and resting his hand on your butt. He opened his own water bottle, taking a swig and sitting it down. You stared at him as he did so. He turned on the tv and began to watch a show mindlessly. You weren’t paying attention to it though, you were watching him. 

“You know I meant it right,” he said, breaking the silence. 

“Meant what?” you responded, not being able to control the urge to reach out and rub his hair out of his face. Your expression softened.

“I’ll give it to you, everything,” He turned to look at you, his eyes bright and shining and the smell of his soap filled your nose. He smelled so good and it was so comforting just to be there with him, “I was serious, mama, I’m a man who knows what he wants. My mother told me to find what I wanted and to make sure they knew I wanted them. I’m sorry mama, but I ain’t letting you go now.” Ari looked down at your lips before capturing them in a fevered kiss. 

“I’m taking you to get your stuff tomorrow mama, and when we get back, you’re callin’ your parents.” 

You smiled at him, kissing him again, “I’m glad, because I won’t let you go either.”

A/N: I hope you guys liked it! Feedback is appreciated and I will be taking requests now that this is up! Please let me know what you guys might want to see from me in the future. I had fun writing this, but I think it lowkey sucks lmaoooo. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts!!!

[ggidolsmuts]

Haul-lelujah - Red Velvet Seulgi

"Seulgi, what's all this?" you ask, carrying some groceries into her kitchen—you were going to cook her a meal to celebrate her upcoming solo debut.

"Oh hey oppa! I went shopping! Just taking a video of my haul for a vlog."

"Oh, cool, have fun."

"Wait, don't you want to join in?"

"Aren't you just filming the clothes? Why would I be in the shot? Not like I can fit in them."

"Noooo help me film it. Since you're here, I can model them and you can film me wearing them!"

"I have to cook though."

"You can cook later! Please?" Seulgi's too cute to say no to, so you agree and take a seat on the bed, grabbing her phone to start recording. "Be right back!"

Shortly after Seulgi emerges from the bathroom in a sleek black pullover and sweatpants, the white colored wristband and socks contrasting well with the overall all-black outfit.

"Not bad," you say, impressed at the fit. "Oops, do I have to be quiet?"

"No no, it's okay, I'll voiceover it later." Seulgi disappears into the bathroom again. She reappears with an all-grey set this time.

"Mmm, I like the black one more."

"Really? Hmm okay, this one is pretty comfortable too. Let me try on a few more." In the bathroom Seulgi spied the few more pieces of outerwear she bought, and her eyes wandered to the more revealing workout wear she got as well.

She only planned to film the outerwear for her haul video, but she didn't think she'd be posing and showing off for you too. And now that you were here, all the stress from preparing for her solo debut has come back in full force—or rather, her need for relief. Biting her lower lip she chooses her next outfit…

"How about this one? What do you think?" Seulgi smiles at the reaction you try to hide—your eyes open wide for a brief moment, flashing to her instead of making sure she's centered on the phone screen. You shake a little, but the phone's built-in stabilizer makes it unnoticeable. Seulgi's wearing a hot pink sports bra, and her leggings might as well have been painted onto her body with how form-fitting they are, highlighting the lines of her hips and legs.

"It's nice, looks good," you manage to say, your mouth suddenly dry.

"That's it? What do you really think?" She turns around, giving you a 360 degree view of her body.

"Umm, I like it more than the sweatshirt and sweatpants?" you say honestly, but obviously not telling her the whole truth.

"Pfft, fine, be right back." Seulgi goes back to the bathroom, undressing one more time before putting on one more set, in the colors she knew you liked. She exits again in an even more stunning black sports bra and loose black sweatpants, complete with a windbreaker. She teases you, shrugging the windbreaker off a shoulder.

"Well?"

"It's umm, I think, it's umm—" you struggle to come up with words.

"No no oppa, don't tell me what you think, tell me what you want to think." She lowers her hand to your crotch as she kisses your cheek. "But tell me later, one more outfit, keep that camera raised."

"Fuck Seul you're killing me." Seulgi returns to the bathroom, blushing in the mirror as her hand almost moves on its own between her legs. Wait, just wait! she tells herself. Subconciously she brushes a hand over her breast—she'll need to edit the video later, Seulgi's so stiff she's surprised her nipples aren't poking a hole through the sports bra. She takes a deep breath and scoops her final outfit into her arms.

Here we go.

Seulgi comes out holding the pieces of her last outfit, and you're sure the camera's shaking as she rids herself of the windbreaker.

"What's up? Are we done?"

And then she takes off her bra in front of you.

"Seulgi!"

"What? It's not anything you haven't seen before," she says like it's the most casual thing in the world. Internally she hopes you don't notice her slight shiver, stripping herself so brazenly for you. Seulgi turns her back to you, pushing her sweatpants down and bending over at the waist for you. She's glad she isn't able to see you behind her—she would not be able to stop herself from jumping you, nor would she be able to stop you from pouncing on her, not from the way she can feel your burning gaze on her ass.

"Y-Yeah, but aren't you filming this for your vlog?" you ask, somehow aware enough to keep filming a topless Seulgi turning into a bottomless Seulgi, with only a simple pair of black panties keeping her from becoming naked Seulgi.

The two of you are barely holding yourselves together as Seulgi pulls on an even more seductive set of leggings, the white hem emphasizing where her midriff ends and her hips begin, and boy do they begin. You pray the camera doesn't catch the whimper of disappointment you let out as she slips into the white sports bra. A thin, see-through, almost pointless windbreaker completes the outfit, although it won't be for long—not if the two of you have anything to say about it.

As Seulgi walks up to you, filling the camera, your eyes follow the route her hand takes, up her curvy thighs, tracing a sinuous line over her hips, stopping at her breasts. Her hand pauses, and tantalizingly she cups a breast for the briefest of seconds, showing just how nicely she filled out the bra. Her fingers drift to her cleavage, drawing a line up between her modest peaks and to her neck, stopping at her ruby lips. Her face is almost as red as her lips—she can't believe she just put on a show for you, and she's pretty sure her other pair of lips is red too—red, swollen, wet, and ready to be parted.

"What do you think," Seulgi asks in a low voice.

"It's a hot look, you look good in it, well you look good in anything—"

"Tell me what you want to think," Seulgi shushes your rambling, grabbing the phone in your hand and stopping the recording. Camera off, she's no longer Seulgi the idol, she's yours. You wrap an arm around her toned midriff, pulling her into your lap.

"What I want to think? I think it's fucking hot, I think I want to rip your outfit off. No, I want to rip your top off, then I'm going to peel your leggings off inch by inch, kissing my way down your legs. Then I'm going to take those panties, stuff it in your mouth, and eat you out until you drown me and I die from your thighs crushed around me. Then I revive and fuck you until you can't stand… and that's when I bend you over and fuck you until I can't stand." your hot breath on her neck sends a shiver down her spine, straight to the growing wetness between her legs.

"Fuck, and then?" Seulgi's pupils are dilated, her chest already heaving at the thought of everything you said. Her hands are already on her sports bra, tugging it, yearning for you to tear it off.

"Save the best for last, you ride me until both of us can't move, then maybe we order dinner, because I won't be able to cook."

"That is the best part, I like dinner." You lean in to kiss her, both of you laughing, then moaning softly as your hardness pokes against her wetness, even through the layers of fabric. Seulgi slips off the thin windbreaker, wrapping her arms around your neck.

"What are you waiting for then? I don't want you to think, I want you to do." If that's what Seulgi wants, that's what Seulgi gets, and you press her into the bed, attacking her neck as your hands tear at her sports bra. She manages to slip one arm, then the other out, and you hurriedly tug it off her head before flinging it away. The rash action makes Seulgi's perfect hair messy, and it looks even better on her.

"Fuck, so fucking hot." You mouth the words into her neck, feeling Seulgi moan, her fingers curling and uncurling uselessly while you hold her down by the wrists. Not for long though, as you move your hands down to her toned tummy, rubbing her smooth skin, before bringing it to her chest.

"So hard," you hiss, before making Seulgi cry out when you take a stiff nub in between your lips, sucking not too gently. Your fingers service the other nipple, tugging it firmly before rubbing her gently—half pain, half pleasure, and Seulgi is all wet.

She's already burning up, the tight leggings making her aware of just how aroused she was—she is suddenly conscious of every rub of her panties against her pussy, giving her small jolts of pleasure as you have your way with her. Seulgi moans loudly as you knee brushes between her legs, and she's embarrassed by how she bucks against your thigh, hungry for the friction you could give her. At this rate she might even cum before you get her panties off! She couldn't wait to have you devour her.

But you could wait. After adoring her breasts further, until she's already a limp puddle on the bed, you kiss your way down Seulgi's toned midriff, to the hem of her leggings.

"Take it off, please!" Seulgi's hands are in your hair, gently pushing you downwards. Just gently though—Seulgi isn’t needy enough yet, so you stay where you are. Kissing across the edge of her leggings, you hear both her giggle when you hit a ticklish spot, and her moan of frustration when you stamp your lips on a sensitive spot.

Her tummy twitches as you plant your kisses, and you swear you can hear the contractions, the squelches of her pussy just waiting to be fucked. Finally you start rolling her leggings down, earning a piteous whimper from her when you stop after just a little bit. No, keep going! Seulgi screams internally, biting the sheets as you kiss the newly exposed flesh.

You leave little love bites along her hip line, marking her where no one else would be able to see it, but unequivocally reminding Seulgi you are the only one who could do this to her. She would think of you every time she was naked, the only one who could make her a burning waterfall inside. You kiss across the top of her panties, and she's squirming underneath you, not so subtly bucking her hips up, praying you'd brush against her.

Her scent, her desire, it fills your nostrils as you bite and tug on her panties before letting it go. Seulgi's hands push you down more insistently, begging you to pull her panties down, so you roll the leggings down further instead. You look up at Seulgi, her face red with need, and keeping your eyes trained on her, you lean in towards her soaked panties… and swerve to kiss her thighs.

"Fuck babe!" Seulgi curses in pleasure, her thighs trembling when s on them, kissing and then blowing hot air over her skin. Goosebumps appear on Seulgi's skin, and you run your hands over her, sneaking them under her ass and grabbing her cheeks. She gasps and her hips lift off the bed again, offering her pussy to your mouth, if you would just eat her already. But you let her drop back to the bed, her legs straining against the tight leggings, wanting nothing more than to spread herself as open as possible.

You give her what she wants, pulling the rest of her leggings off, and Seulgi almost kicks you as she rushes to get them off. Her eyes are burning at you, too far gone to even be sorry about almost giving you a bloody nose. Yet you weren't done.

"O-oppa please, I'm so close!" You lift a leg, and Seulgi let's out something between a scream and a moan when your hot mouth teasingly sucks a toe. Your hands admire and knead her calves, while you linger slavishly on her foot—you suck a big toe, kiss the top, and then the bottom of her feet. You then move up her ankle, resting her leg on your shoulder as you slide alongside it, kissing up her calf and showing love to every part of her.

Seulgi loved and hated this part of you—you wouldn't just give her what she wants, eventually. No, you would give her what she didn't even know she wanted, like you worshipping and salivating over her entire body, and it's driving her mad with lust. When your lips reach her knee she takes her opportunity, hooking her leg over your shoulder and pulling you towards her. You end up face first between her legs, pressed against her ruined panties.

And it rapidly gets warmer, and wetter.

Seulgi has been desperately holding on, trying not to peak from your foreplay. Even as you kissed up her leg she was beginning to lose control, and when you fall forward, Seulgi's so turned on that your brush against her clit causes her to fall off the cliff.

"Oh god, nnngh oppa…" You feel and hear Seulgi squirt, her panties acting as a faceshield for the gush of juice exiting her. Spurts of it escape from the sides, splashing on your face and neck. You stay pressed on her pussy, eating her out through her panties, her leg on your back shaking as the intense orgasm blows through her and drains onto your face.

The ceiling seems to be spinning when Seulgi opens her eyes again, and she lifts a tired arm, closing her eyes and hoping that the room will stop rotating around her. Her entire body is buzzing, and you have to tap her a few times before she pulls her arm away.

"You okay?" you ask her, and Seulgi nods, not trusting herself to speak.

"Good, open." Her mouth hangs open, and immediately you stuff her mouth with the ruined panties. When did he take them off? Seulgi bites down on them as you move back down her body, and she's surprised by how wet and heavy the fabric is. Fuck I'm such a mess! She does not regret the gag though, as she screams loudly into it when you finally, finally, lick her pussy.

"Hnnnngh fuck!" Her thighs instantly close around your head, and her fingers alternate between gripping your hair and the bedsheets. Driven mad with ecstasy Seulgi pulls on your hair, directing you to wherever gives her the most pleasure, trying to fuck your face herself. You let her smear your face in her juices before taking control, kissing her labia and parting them with your tongue—you said you were going to eat her out, and you are going to eat her clean.

Your hands alternate between grabbing onto her thighs, holding them off to better hear Seulgi's cries; and grabbing her by the ass and lifting her hips up, to really dive into her, to have her buck into your mouth as you tongue her as deeply as possible. Your own noises and moans vibrate her delightfully, and when you aim up to lick and suck at her clit Seulgi breaks down.

Between the juice-soaked gag in her mouth and the sheer sensitivity of her body, Seulgi could taste the orgasm you give her, a guttural cry soaked up by her underwear, her drool mixing with the juice in it. Her body lifts off the bed and her head is buried in the pillow, an additional muffler to her screams. Her thighs snap tight around your head, jerking and twitching even as she drowns your face in slick. Seulgi's thighs help keep you glued to her spasming spewing slit, and you continue to eat her out, each orgasm blending into the next, until eventually you make good on eating her clean—she’s unable to squirt any more or any harder.

You wipe your mouth when the well finally runs dry, and Seulgi's thighs finally unstick from your head, legs sprawled out on the bed. You move up her trembling body, stripping yourself naked in short order. You take the gag out of her mouth, capturing her lips with ardor before whispering passionately in her ear.

"Your cum tastes so fucking sweet." You grab her legs, and Seulgi wraps them around your waist. A shiver goes through her body when she feels your hardness—as good as your tongue is, she wanted to be filled by something more substantial. You carry her to the nearest wall, pinning her against it as she lets one shaky leg down to the ground. Seulgi can barely stand at all, and her arms wrap around you tightly as you push into her. The other leg around your waist weakens, and you hook it by the knee, making her do a near split.

"Ahhh!" Her piercing wail is appropriate for how deep you penetrate her on your first full thrust, putting your weight into Seulgi and the wall. Her hands scratch your back, the room spinning again from how full you stuff her. It is almost uncomfortable, both the split of her legs and the expansion of her walls. Only you could make Seulgi flexible enough to do a split, and only you could make her stretch in more ways than one.

"Is this what you wanted? Giving me some lame excuse, wanting me to film your vlog, wearing those outfits and putting on a show for me? When all you wanted to wear was nothing, and all you wanted me to do is you?" you hiss. Seulgi gathers her strength, throwing her hips forward and driving herself deeper onto your cock.

"YES!" She's already cumming, sobbing into your neck as her toes curl in the air. Your whispers in her ear further her orgasm, even though at some point she's gone deaf in carnal bliss.

"I'm going to do just that, you'll never want to wear anything for me again, you'll spread your legs the moment you see me walk into the room." Seulgi moans at the thought, and it makes her clench a few more times around your shaft before her peak subsides. She starts to fall to the ground, but you support her with your hands, and she only sags part way down, her back curved at an angle against the wall.

It is enough to keep her steady, and you start pounding Seulgi into the wall, a breathless gasp and grunt escaping her with your every thrust, determined to nail her into the wall. The position is not necessarily great for her back, and no doubt she'll regret it tomorrow, but the pleasure forces her to focus on the present. And presently, Seulgi is loving the sight of your cock disappearing into her pussy, only to gasp at the sheer fullness of it a moment later. The fullness grows and throbs, and Seulgi manages to tear her eyes away from your cock and look you in the eyes.

"Give it to me…" she moans softly, and with a few more thrusts that threaten to fold Seulgi in half you unload your built up load. Seulgi bites her lower lip to hold back a cry, and her body does the deed for her, a small orgasm making her milk your shaft as she reacts to your warm seed filling her up, the sensation washing over her senses.

You stagger in the aftermath of your orgasm, your legs suddenly weak, your arms suddenly burning from holding Seulgi up for so long. You pull back to let her leg down, and when you unplug, a stream of white cum-slick mix leaks out of her and splatters on the ground below—it eventually slows to a trickle, crawling their way down Seulgi's inner thigh. She staggers as she lands on two feet, and you hug her close, making sure she doesn't stumble.

"You okay?" you mumble, a hand on her cheek to wipe the sweat and drool on her flawless face. Seulgi nods and melts into your embrace, basking in the warmth of the session. You bring her back to bed, the two of you laying down and catching your breaths. Eventually though, you flip Seulgi over, bringing her to the edge of the bed.

"Love you." Seulgi turns to smile at you happily, knowing you plan to make good on your thoughts.

"Love you more," you mutter and kiss her, your words warming her heart.

"I can't wait to fuck you again." Your whispered words also wet her pussy. Bent over at the edge of the bed and placed in such a compromising position, Seulgi starts dripping again, feeling your shaft rub and get bigger between her cheeks. Eagerly she lifts her hips slightly, to give you more of an angle to get you hard. It works wonderfully, and in short order you're bent over Seulgi, pinning her to the bed as you enter her sloppy, cum-filled warmth. She arches her back, seeming to lean back against your shoulder as you try to hilt yourself in her. You don't get quite as deep as earlier, but with her legs closer together Seulgi feels tighter, and you seem bigger inside her.

"Baby… oppa, pin me." You follow Seulgi's wishes, stretching Seulgi's arms out over her head, your hands on top of hers, making sure she lies flat on the bed from the waist up, her breasts pressed into the sheets. Your thighs press against hers, and Seulgi shuffles her knees forward, until her bottom half is flush against the side of the bed. A breathy moan escapes her, and she turns to look for you. You lean down and get face-to-face with her, your chest against her back. She leans in to peck your lips before closing her eyes.

"Ready."

Seulgi braces herself by relaxing into the bed. This was how she liked to be fucked: bent over, pinned down and helpless, but oh so wonderfully warm, your body effectively wrapping around her like a weighted blanket—a weighted blanket that could fuck her. She surrenders her pleasure to you, giving you full responsibility over her body, and Seulgi gasps as you gyrate your hips, grinding into her with slow and firm rotations.

"Good?" Seulgi opens her mouth to answer you, but the breath is forced out of her when you go deep, and what comes out is a soft moan instead. She tries to answer you three more times, and three more times you push as far as you can get into Seulgi, and soon she gives up, burying her face in the sheets. Her hands tense and relax underneath yours—tensing when you push in, then relaxing when you pull back.

You last longer after your first orgasm, so over time you feel Seulgi relax less and less, even as you pull out. She gets warmer and warmer underneath you, and her body's slowly tensing and coiling like a spring, building up the energy to explode. You know that she's close, so you make use of your authority over her, make sure you can drive her mad with pleasure.

"Don't cum until I say so." Seulgi squeaks, nodding weakly, but even as she does she tightens around you—just the thought of you telling her when to cum is making Seulgi heat up. Her breathing is labored and short, and it gets shorter every time you press the entrance to her womb.

"Fuuuugh, oppa…" Seulgi's losing her mind, starting to forget to breathe.

"Hold it in!" Your body pressed on top of her doesn't help things either, and her world begins to swirl in pleasure and lack of oxygen. You're sticking to her skin-to-skin, and Seulgi's almost hot to the touch. "Don't cum yet Seul, you're doing such a good job." She clenches around you, letting out a happy whimper at being praised, but she needs her release.

"Please, hnngh!" Every thrust forces air out of her lungs in a moan, and your cock replaces oxygen as the thing Seulgi needs to survive right now. She's trembling against you, and her eyes start to roll as you suck on her neck harshly, just adding to the sensation of being dominated. You know she's hit her breaking point, so you let her go.

"Cum, cum for me now!" A strangled wail vibrates against your lips on her neck, and Seulgi combusts. A gush of juice drenches your balls, her pussy the only muscle still functioning. You grind her through the orgasm, your shaft working like a piston, pumping wave after wave of her squirt over your cock. The contractions around your shaft are far too pleasurable, and you lose yourself to it—you had to pound her.

"Hnngh…" Through her orgasm Seulgi registers you pulling out and her hips being lifted. Her knees touch the softness of the bed, and she manages to prop herself up, keeping her hips raised for you. It is the perfect height for both of you, and with a hand on her hips you start hammering into her, your other hand on her wrists yanking her upper body off the bed, pulling her back on your cock. Seulgi's vision is blurry as her head lolls limply in the air, jerked powerfully against your thrusts as you expend the rest of your strength.

"Oppa! Haah, god! Mmmm!" Seulgi's reduced to wordless cries when you bottom out inside of her, marking each spurt of your load with a satisfied groan. You keep her pulled against you, your cock throbbing and spurting everywhere inside her, covering her walls with your thick white blanket. When you are finally done you let go of Seulgi, and the two of you collapse on the bed side by side. Seulgi's face is pink, sweaty, and beautiful, and you scoot closer to cuddle her, your bodies sore but satisfied. The two of you lie there for a while, calming down and letting your heart rate settle.

"What do you want to eat for dinner?" you ask, but with a grunt Seulgi pulls herself on top of you, answering with a mischievous grin.

"Wait, we're skipping the best part?"

"I thought dinner was the best part?"

"No, the part where I ride you is the best." Seulgi slithers down your body seductively, taking you in her mouth and cleaning your cock of cum and slick. You slowly grow hard in her mouth, and when she is done cleaning she slides back up to you, whispering in your ear.

"Our cum tastes so fucking good, you taste so salty and I taste so sweet. Don't you feel it? You left such a big load in me, can't you give your little bear another one?" And you do feel it—Seulgi grinding her pussy on your half-hard shaft, and it gets slimier by the second, your combined fluids spilling out over you. "While I've been preparing for my solo debut, do you know who I miss the most?"

"Y-your members?" The sudden talk about work throws you off.

"No, it's you. I miss you."

"I've missed you too—" Seulgi shushes you with a kiss—now is not the time for lovey-dovey words, and she is not done with turning you on.

"When you're not here, when I miss you, do you know how many things I've tried to put in me, to try and get that stretch you give me?"

"N-No," you croak, you're already hard, and Seulgi's words alone might be enough to make you cum.

"I've tried toothbrushes, multiple, at once. Soju bottles, bananas, cucumbers, combs, brushes. Even one of the mics at the company! Fucking everything looks like your cock when you're not here, and none of them work." You moan at the thought of Seulgi stuffing anything and everything in her pussy, but she continues.

"I want to make you feel good too, just like you did to me. There are other things I can do with my pussy when you aren't fucking me senseless." The statement is a little ridiculous, considering how good you felt fucking Seulgi earlier, but you won't complain. Especially when Seulgi lifts herself off you, showing you her nude body in full glory. She runs her hands down her body, smiling at your eyes following them again, just like when she was posing for you earlier.

"I'm an idol you know. We know how to use our hips to dance, but that's not all they're good for." She leans back in to whisper filthily in your ear. "It's so good for riding cocks, I can have you stretch me out any direction I want. My pussy's not just a hole for you to pound and fill so fucking fully." There's a fire in her eyes, as if she had something to show you.

"It's pliable, flexible, expandable even. I'm going to have you open me up like a can, and fuck I hope you're ready to fill me, and this guy says yes." She reaches down to grab your already throbbing shaft, and with a moan she sinks herself down on you.

"Fuck Seul!" you cry out as you push through her cum-filled hole, damming what's left of your load in her. "Ohhh fuck!" you shout loudly as her warmth crushes you, Seulgi flexing her muscles to contract around you. She relaxes her grip on you, then tightens again, repeating it in rhythmic motions. It feels like one of Seulgi's orgasms, except she is clearly in control here, her eyes boring into yours.

"See, when you aren't making me lose control I can milk you without cumming myself. Is it good oppa?"

You nod and hiss, already gritting your teeth, not wanting to disappoint her by blowing early.

"It feels amazing, please stop, I'm getting close already." Seulgi nods and closes her eyes, focused on sinking down on you as deeply as she can.

"Fuck oppa yes, that's so deep, you stretch me out so much!" Now it is Seulgi's turn to gyrate her hips, and befitting her idol work she takes it to the extreme, almost snapping her hips in various directions as she grinds herself on top of you. "Do you see? You're opening me up so well, my pussy can be very flexible when taking your cock. You can go all around inside me…" She rotates her hips in a wide circle, and it’s like you're carving out your own space in her pussy, hollowing her out so that she can take your cock from any angle.

"Are you close?" Seulgi continues to ride you, angling herself for maximum pleasure, but her face gets redder and redder, and you can tell she's trying to stay in control.

"I've been close Seul!" you answer through pursed lips, giving her the signal to finish the two of you off.

"Okay, cum with me please? Give me that honey." You manage a nod, and Seulgi pushes herself off you. You bend your knees, offering her some support as she leans back and away from you. Seulgi let's out an involuntary whimper as she plants her hands on your thighs, reaching her desired position—at that angle your shaft rubs against her g-spot perfectly, and all the two of you need to do is move. Any movement will do.

Seulgi ruts forward and against you, and you push your hips up and down into her. You meet her eyes, and when they flutter shut so do yours.

"Oppa I'm going to cum! Cum with me!" When Seulgi clamps down on you again you let yourself go, filling the opened "can" that is her pussy, the two of you quivering in mutual climax. You thrust up and lift Seulgi with your hips, and when the blinding light in your head fades away, you hear Seulgi’s loud moans become a muted whine. Her bucking becomes less intense, her orgasm dying away when your own throbbing weakens, shooting the last few shots into her.

With a soft groan you shrink from her, lines of white trickling down your shaft showing just how much you've filled Seulgi up, making it hard to tell what is fresh and what was "2 rounds ago". Seulgi collapses forward onto you, kissing you lovingly, and you return the kiss with equal passion. She rests on top of you while you stroke her hair, and you can't help but chuckle when her stomach growls.

"I'm hungry."

"Me too, now let's get to the real best part." You order dinner for the two of you, and you go put the groceries away as Seulgi gathers up her outfits. Together the two of you change out the sheets on her bed, before dumping yourselves in a combined lump on the sofa.

"Oh my god I'm so tired!"

"Same…" The two of you lay lifelessly on the sofa, dozing off until you hear the doorbell ring. Springing to life, you hurry to get the delivery while Seulgi sets up the table.

"Mmm, so good!"

"I'm so hungry!" The two of you start to devour your meal, but Seulgi, clumsy as always, drops her fork.

"Ahhh, my sweater, it's stained!"

"You should go change out of it."

"Yeah, okay…" You stop her before she gets up.

"Aish, you're so messy, look, you have something on your mouth." You're up close to Seulgi, and you can't help but kiss her again, "cleaning" her lips for her. The kiss deepens, and soon you're sweeping her off her feet and bringing her back to the bedroom. You're pulling on her sweater, trying to tug it off her.

"You can change later. Sorry bear, I can't keep my hands off you, I want to fuck you again." Seulgi's face is red, blushing at your sudden advances. She licks her lips and nods, pulling your hands to her body.

"I need you to fuck me again too."

The dinner grows cold and you'll be hungry, but Seulgi's honeypot will be warm and stuffed.

A/N: LIke my other Seulgi fics, they just kinda end up being one sex scene after another. Those photos were so hot, I just kept going lol. Thanks for reading!

[lunairesrealm]

4 words, 1 question

feat. diluc, itto, childe, kaeya, ayato

desc. how the genshin men ask you to marry them :)

cw: gn!reader, mentions of proposal, them being soft for you :((, some crying idk if it counts as slight angst but yea, not proofread!

a/n: was gonna make this into some fic solely for ayato but im writing too much for him nowadays LMFAO i need to pay attention to the others too ykyk

reblogs are appreciated!

diluc

Diluc is a rather traditional guy, his proposal simple but heartfelt, just like how he shows his love for you :)) Gets on one knee while taking a night stroll with you on starsnatch cliff, presenting to you a dainty golden ring with a gorgeous gem in the center. It’s honestly really romantic, the cecilias dancing in the grass as the night breeze washes over them, the stars twinkling prettily high up above the clouds, accompanied by the few but endearing proclamations of diluc’s love for you. Kisses you tenderly when you finally say yes, smiles evident on both of your faces, and for the first time in a long time, you see the expression of pure and utter happiness on his face, happy that he now has another person in his life that he holds dear to his heart.

itto

He practiced his proposal at least a hundred times in the mirror, trying to perfect each and every word, but nothing could prepare him for the real deal. Sets up a cute little private table for you and him out in Chinju Forest with the help of his gang members, and it surprisingly turns out pretty romantic. When he finally pops the question though? oh boy. He’s more nervous than usual, constantly fiddling around with the ring in his pocket, and he’s constantly stumbling over his words, trying to force himself to remember what he rehearsed earlier but he just can’t. Improvises and just asks you right then and there, eyes closed and ears red as he holds out a ring with the biggest rhinestone you’ve ever seen in his much bigger hands, making it look tiny. You just grab his face to kiss him, his eyes shooting open in shock and a blush as red as his crimson horns decorating his cheeks. Needless to say, he’s overwhelmed with so much joy when you say yes :))) when you ask him about why the rhinestone is so huge though, he just nervously chuckles and says something about ‘having only the best for his partner’, but really he just wants everyone to know that you’re his :((

childe

Honestly, his proposal comes pretty late into the relationship due to the circumstances of his work and lifestyle, but it doesn’t make it any less special <3 at first, he’s planning on having a really grand proposal -- spoils you with gifts, brings you to a fancy restaurant, and has fireworks in the air when he gets down on one knee, but ultimately those plans get thrown down in the ditch when he proposes to you while the both of you lay in bed together. He just felt so so much love for you in that one vulnerable moment, that he just forgets about those grandiose plans and proposes to you with a pretty ring with a stunning white diamond on it, the ring shimmering prettily in the pale moonlight. And when you say yes, thanking you under his breath and holding you while he’s fighting back tears, just glad that he just might be able to spend the rest of his days with the person he loves most in this world, and glad that you love him back just the same <3

kaeya

Buys the prettiest ring beforehand, its an elegant silver band with white crystals ornately placed on the shoulders of the ring before its finished off with a stunning sapphire gemstone at the center. Kaeya brings you up to a high balcony to have a few glasses of wine with you, something the both of you did frequently when he wasn’t too busy with work. The sky is painted with hues of purple and pink, the sun slowly dipping into the horizon, and he just thinks you look so gorgeous, that he doesn’t even process whatever you were saying to him anymore. Grabs your hand and places it in his, cutting off whatever you were saying, and professes his love for you, his tone softer and more earnest than usual. And when you say yes, he just smiles at you lovingly, and leans in to kiss you without much said afterward. It’s a comfortable silence as the both of you share soft touches with one another, and he’s content. He knows how terrible his past is and the uglier side of him that he shows only to you, but now, he’s looking forward to the future that he’ll share with you by his side. 

ayato

Proposes to you under a beautiful Inazuman sunset, using a ring his late mother had given him when he was still a young boy. The pink and orange hues of the sky mirroring the blush you both share on your cheeks, your hands in his as he slips a simple yet elegant golden band onto your ring finger as he smiles widely up at you. Not many words are spoken, but his gaze is filled with so so much love for you that he doesn’t need them, sakura petals dancing around you as if they too commemorated your engagement to ayato. Kisses you with so much passion and utter love as the sun sets into the horizon, a hand cupping your face as he smiles against your lips, silently promising to you that he’ll be there for you. Whenever, wherever. 

-

lunaire

[diamond-coral]

A Game

Summary: Tony suggests a game that you, the unfortunate intern, get dragged right into the center of: who can make a woman cum the fastest?

Pairings: all dark!: Steve x Reader, Bucky x Reader, Thor x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader, Tony x Reader, implied natasha x reader

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (oral: f-receiving, fingering, tiny smidge of analplay) VOYEURISM/EXHIBITIONISM, BLACKMAILING, OVERSTIMULATION. The characters in this story are NOT good people. After reading the warnings, your media consumption is your own responsibility!

As Stark’s party mellowed down and all the guests left, you, the unfortunate intern, were called over to the small group of five Avengers seated in a section of couches.

“Y/n, come!” Thor’s voice boomed.

“Y/n, come!” Sam mimicked, deepening his voice to make fun of Thor’s.

You approached them as the men snickered at Sam’s joke. 

“What can I do for you?” you ask, a fake smile plastered on your face.

Stark cleared his throat and raised a brow at you; a silent command. 

“What can I do for you, sir?” 

“A round of drinks please, and add this to Sir Barnes, Sir Rogers, and I’s drinks.” Thor handed you the flask of his Asgardian liquor and you accepted it, hiding the slight nervous tremble of your hands.

“Of course, sir.”

“Someone’s been learning their manners,” Steve taunted, and it took all your restraint to not snarl at him.

“Easy there, Rogers,” Stark interjected, noticing how your fingers clenched Thor’s flask tighter. “Pretty sure Barnes fucked the brat outta her couple days ago when he came back from that shitshow of mission in Bosnia. Got a lot of pent up rage there, Buck?”

“Mission just put me in a bad mood,” Bucky shrugged. “Either way, I don’t think I fucked all the brat outta her. Got anything left for me, doll?”

“I have nothing for you, you self-righteous, ignorant prick,” you spat venomously.

“There she is. I always love a challenge.” Bucky smirked at how your knuckles were turning white around the flask. “Now didn’t Thor ask you to go fetch us some drinks?”

You huffed, opting to bite your tongue rather than lashing out, and spun on your heel toward the minibar.

Three-months ago, you would never have imagined your internship interview at S.H.I.E.L.D to bring you here. Your interview had been conducted by Captain America himself, and just as things began to look promising, it was interrupted by a sharp knock from Tony Stark. Tony had brought Steve into the hall, leaving the door to the conference room open, and you could only sneak glances through the window of the room, hearing Steve whisper about how it was “a question of morality” while they both kept looking back at you.

You got the position, and the next day, Tony sat you down and gave you an offer.

The Avengers needed to be ‘taken care of’, as he put it, and you being a ‘stress-reliever’ would boost morale around the team. Most of the them never had time for the outside world (apparently saving the world was a big commitment?) and were rarely ever able to make lasting relationships. You could accept the position, be compensated monthy, and get to live in the compound, or you could decline, and walk away with your mouth sealed by the confidentiality contract you signed before the interview.  Something about S.H.I.E.L.D. work being linked to a lot of top secret information, meaning you weren’t allowed to speak any details of the job to outside parties unless you wanted to get sued for every penny you were worth.

You had been on the cusp of taking the second option before Tony mentioned your sister’s job as S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent. She was half the reason you’d interviewed for an internship. A couple words from Tony about her possibly falling into a fatal accident on a mission, and you took the position offer in a heartbeat.

You almost overfilled the glass while getting lost in your train of thought. Setting down the bottle of expensive whiskey, you placed the last glass next to the others on the silver tray, and picked it up, gracefully yet begrudgingly making your way back to the small gathering.

“Y/n, finally. We were just talking about who here can make a woman cum the fastest.”

The complete utter bluntness of Tony’s words caught you entirely off guard, and you tripped over your own feet, stumbling in your high heels to keep the tray of drinks from falling before Sam reached an arm out to catch the tray and another arm to hold your hip and steady you.

You ripped yourself from Sam’s touch without acknowledging or thanking him, to disturbed by Tony’s previous words to do so. You began passing out the glasses of dark liquid. “And you’re telling me this why?” Your voice was flat in hopes of showing Tony you were completely disinterested in any plans he might have.

“Why, we need your aid, Lady Y/n,” Thor answered a little too cheerfully for your taste.

“I won’t be partaking in your little immature competition of toxic masculinity.” You crossed your arms and continued. “It makes it seem that women are nothing but prizes. Games to be played by boys as they fight over the highscore. Toys.”

“Aren’t they?” Steve cocked his head, eyes glimmering with amusement while a smirk painted his face. The rest of the men chuckled at his reply.

“I think HR would be shocked to hear that Captain America is being a sexist dick to a woman in the workplace,” you bit back, but your threat was weak and they all knew it.

“I think HR would be to busy writing a condolence letter to your sisters family if, let’s say, on her mission with Sam tomorrow in Russia, a stray bullet hit her,” Steve replied. A quick reminder at the stakes. 

Sam clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock sympathy. “Those darn Russians and their careless aim.”  

He abruptly pushed himself off the couch and clapped his hands together. “I wanna go first,” he declared.

“Just remember, you can’t use your dick,” Tony added. “Some of us don’t have super soldier serum enhanced fuckwands.”

“Please never, ever say fuckwand again,” Bucky said, scrunching up his nose. “Besides, the hydra serum didn’t do anything down there.” He waggled his eyebrows while elbowing his enhanced counterpart. “Don’t think I could say the same for this punk here though.”

Steve muttered a ‘shut up’ while the group snickered.

All while they compared sizes like a bunch of teenagers, Sam manhandled you onto the coffee table in the center of the couches. You let out a grunt as you were shoved onto your front, stomach pressed into the tabletop while your pelvis was slammed into the edge.

Sam kneeled behind you and brought up two fingers to your mouth.

“Get ‘em nice and wet for me, baby.”

The men around you went quiet, entranced as you reluctantly took Sam’s fingers into your mouth, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around them.

When Sam finally pulled them out, he looked back at Tony.

“You ready?” Sam asked.

Sam hiked the flowy skirt of your dress up your legs causing you to squirm and pathetically thrash; a desperate attempt at putting an abrupt stop to this stupid game.

“You’re on the clock.”

At Tony’s words, Sam immediately stopped your desperate attempt at worming away from him by catching you by the back of your neck and slamming you back down hard on the coffee table. Much to your disdain, the rough treatment made you wet, and that was the last thing you wanted them to see.

But when Sam pulled your lacy panties down, you could tell it was the first thing he noticed.

“Fuck babygirl, I didn’t need you lubing up my fingers, you’re already drenched,” he noted.

You let out a soft moan as Sam worked two calloused fingers into your pussy. Although they’re thick and long, they were nowhere near the size of his dick and you silently thanked whatever was out there that he wasn’t splitting you in half with it at the moment. Sam released the grip on your neck, moving to settle the hand on your ass before giving it a light squeeze and a slap that elicited another moan from you. While Sam slowly began moving his fingers- twisting, curling, and pumping them- he leaned over you, caging your body under his broad chest, to speak dirty words into your ear.

“Baby, you’re so wet right now, I think you like having them watch you.” Your cheeks burned in shame while he picked up the pace. “You want them to see how well-behaved you are for me? Want them to see how you come on my hand like a good little slut?” he cooed.

Slow pumps now turned to quick thrusts from his skilled fingers and Sam groaned as you fluttered around him.

“That’s it. You’re taking me perfectly.”

Twisting his wrist so his thumb could also strum your clit, Sam was moving so fast you’d easily mistake him for a superhuman.

“Yes, Sam, please,” you cried out, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Uh-uh, babygirl. Wrong word,” he scolded, although his pace never slowed as his fingers brutally fucked into you.

“Daddy!” you screamed. “I’m cumming!”

You chanted those words, cunt clamping down on his merciless fingers. He gave you no reprieve, mercilessly thrusting into you, until you squirted, your release coating his hand and dripping down his forearm. Only when you were almost crying, did he finally remove his hand from your abused cunt.

“Now that-,” Sam stated, grinning while he stood. “-is how you make a girl come.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever Birdbrain.” You don’t have any strength to look at Tony as he speaks. “Give her a couple minutes before whoever’s next.”

Whatever the conversation was between them (you couldn’t hear it over the buzzing in your brain), it was much too short to your liking. The few minutes Tony gave you only felt like a few seconds before Bucky was getting up.

“Guess I’ll take a crack at it,” he announced, rolling his head from side to side.

“No one says “take a crack at it” anymore, old man.”

“Keep talking when your in last place, Sam,” Bucky quipped, however, his tone was still light.

You felt a metal hand on your hip before you were rolled over onto your back, now facing Bucky while your eyes pleaded with him.

“Please dont,” you croaked.

Bucky just scoffed, kneeling down between your legs and wrapping both arms around your thighs as he pulled you closer.

“Tony?” His hot breath fanned your pussy as he spoke and you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Stark said.

Bucky wasted no time the moment the words left Tony’s mouth. He started by licking up from your hole to clit over and over, the lazy stripes already driving you wild. Letting go of one of your thighs to bring his flesh hand to your pussy, he pulled the hood of your clit back, pausing his licking to blow on your engorged bud.

“Such a pretty pussy, doll,” he murmured before turning his head around and speaking louder. “You guys seeing this?” 

He moved his head out of the way to showcase your glistening folds. A couple groans from the men on the couches had you trying to close your legs, but Bucky’s grip was like steel (especially considering his hand was metal).

“Wasting time Buck,” Steve commented and Bucky just rolled his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I can still beat Sam and have time left over,” he scoffed.

Bucky directed his attention back to your folds, this time, diving in right away. He still had the hood of your clit pulled back as he encased the bud with his lips causing you to writhe at the intense sensation. And yet, you were held down with practically no effort as he methodically played with you. Each time he groaned against you, you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, and by the time he started sucking on your clit, you were wrecked. Your hand found home in his brown locks of hair while he quickly moved his tongue back and forward on your sensitive nub that was trapped in the vacuum of his mouth. The coil inside you wound tighter and tighter, and suddenly, while Bucky began shaking his head from side to side, it snapped. Your clit pulsed rapidly while encased in his hot mouth, and you screamed, legs locking around his head while your hand held his head in place. He worked you while you rode out your orgasm on his face until you could barely move.

Bucky got up from his knees, grinning down at you, so weak, you couldn’t muster it in you to glare back.

“Now I think I really fucked the brat out of you,” he said. “What was that?” He cupped his ear. “Did I hear a thank you sir?”

“Thank you, sir,” you whimpered weakly.

You were so fucked out, all the next events were but a blur.

Thor had feasted between your thighs the same as Bucky but was more sloppy, although, your body seemed to love ‘sloppy’. His tongue was constantly lashing and worming around your clit, the wet muscle accompanied by lewd slurping sounds, and in record time, Thor’s suckling and licking had you tensing and building up so much that your orgasm felt like a waterfall crashing over your body.

Steve was just as methodical and precise as Bucky, also pumping his fingers slowly in and out of your pussy. He was sweetly slow, dragging out your pleasure to the point where you were begging him to come. His warm tongue dragged across your sensitive cunt, while another hand reached up to grab a breast and pinch a nipple. You felt like your body was on fire. It wasn’t until Steve had inserted a thumb into your ass that he finally allowed your body sweet sweet release.

Your head span as finally collapsing on Tony’s floor, listening to the muffled voices above you.

You didn’t even register Stark’s words as he announced Thor had won and Steve had come in last. You barely even heard Steve’s defense that he was just enjoying himself too much in the moment.

Although ten-minutes later you had a somewhat sense of clarity, after hearing their conversation, you wished you were just unconscious. Even better, dead.

“I’m tellin’ you man, I made her squirt. She definitely came the hardest with me.” Sam’s voice rang.

“Dude- she was literally grinding against my face and holding me in a headlock with her legs,” Bucky argued.

“I literally made the brat beg to cum,” Steve inserted.

“I’d say that by bringing her to release the fastest, it was most intense with me,” Thor declared, victoriously.

You were on the brink of tears as they talked about you. Until another voice cut into the room. A female voice.

“What do you boys think you’re doing?”

It was Natasha. Your head jolted up as you felt a glimmer of hope surge through you.

That glimmer of hope was quickly extinguished at her next words.

“Not inviting me to the boy’s party?” she scolded. “You think a girl might beat you by a landslide?”

Nat squatted down next to you, running a soft hand on your cheek.

“Well you’re right. I’ll beat Thor’s record and cut it in half.”

She began unbuttoning her pants.

“And I’ll do it while riding her face.”

[fruitoftheweek]

Little Cherry Book:

Chapter 4:Showered in Sin

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Hey guys! I'm sorry that it has taken so long for me to update this. I had an idea of what I was going to write but I had a super hectic week so I wasn't able to write this till now. In order to make up for it, I have given you a treat. A 6,502 word chapter. It kinda beat my ass but I had so much fun writing it. It's sweet, it's spicy, it's all the goodness you guys deserve. I was listening to Duvet by Boa while writing this and I think you should too for two reasons. One, it helps set the mood, but also oh my fucking god it's such a good song. Also, Boa is just a fucking great band. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and message me if you would like to be added to the tag list! Love you guys

Pairing: Spencer Reid X reader

Chapter Plot: After a game of drunk never have I ever after a long case, Morgan locks Spencer out of their shared room. Shenanigans ensue and you and Spencer share a couple of firsts.

Series TW: 18+, smut, degradation, piercing, choking, knife play, mommy/daddy kinks, spanking, exhibitionism, Will update as time goes on

Chapter TW: smut, slight mommy kink, having body piercings, choking, slight blood kink (not really, it's just hard to explain), Shared masturbation (male and female receiving), pleading, multiple orgasms, cumming in pants, shower sexiness, aftercare

Word Count: 6,502

Your deep cherry lipstick painted the white seal of the wine bottle you held in your hand as you laughed at something Elle said. Spencer couldn't help but let a small smile pass his lips as he took in your form, hot from the day's work, small strands of your hair sticking to your forehead, a dewy glow illuminating your rosy cheeks.

After a long week, they had found Carl Arnold before he had been able to kill the Dunken family and even coerced a confession out of him. With spirits running high, Elle had suggested some much-needed relaxation before taking off the next day. Since you were rooming alone, you volunteered to host in your room. Morgan had arrived at your hotel room with two bottles of some sort of liquor, one clear and one amber, JJ trailing in toe with your bottle of red wine you had asked for. You pulled out your little corkscrew with the face of an old man on it, knowing she hated his weird little face. You brought it with you on trips, just in case the occasion arose.

And it did arise as Elle suggested a drinking game. Hotch had retired early after calling Hailey to get an update on his very pregnant wife, while Gideon preferred the solitude of a good book late at night. The rest of you sat on the floor surrounded by drinks and snacks. With the supervision gone, it almost felt like a high school party with no parents. You all had all settled on a classic, never have I ever. "We haven't played this in a long time because we already know so much about each other, but it's fun when we have a newbie around," Morgan said giving you a cheeky smile and bumping your shoulder. Already pliable after the couple of drinks you had while Elle explained the game, you nodded before tipping your lips to the cusp of Spencer's ear. "I'll try not to make it too hard for you, pretty boy," you said. The small puffs of air that left your mouth made Spencer's hair stand on end and his feet curl.

He knew you were teasing him that night and he loved it. He decided to keep his knees tucked to his chest for the rest of the night as to not expose the predicament in his pants. He watched the way you lightly sucked on the wine bottle as you tipped it back, a thin river of cabernet leaking from the corner of your lips and trailing down your neck. Spencer wanted nothing more than to lean over and lap it off of you just to see how you would react, but he knew it was the drinks talking. Despite your earlier comment, it was quite obvious that you were targeting him as his head started to spin gently.

"Never have I ever had sex with someone much older than me," Garcia said through her video feed with a cheeky smirk. Derek had insisted on including her even though she wasn't physically present. She sat bundled up in a comfy blanket in her office with a mug of some sort of alcoholic beverage. "HEY! No targeting! Plus, I told you that in confidence at ladies night. How much is much older?" You said, swaying your bottle towards the computer set up on the floor."You know how much older I mean sweetheart." Garcia said with a giggle as you groaned and took a sip."How much older is much older?" Morgan said with a cocked eyebrow, somewhere between impressed and surprised." I was a college student, experimenting with my professor. Not like an old man, but he was 20 years older than me. Definitely not my style anymore though." You said with a grimace remembering him.

Spencer had learned a lot about your sex life during that game, but some part inside of him smirked, knowing that the rest of the team would never know you as he knew you, not unless they too had read your journal. It was the only thing keeping his head clear of the idea of you with anyone else. Not that you were with him in any capacity, but the idea still made him feel something in his stomach. Not the sweet butterflies that came with your smile, but something more like idiotic hornets dangerously bumping against the walls of his stomach.

Spencer hadn't even noticed the uproar of everyone else around the circle at your comment and the second revelation that Morgan had drunk too. He was too busy watching how you had shyly tucked your hair behind your ear, finally letting it down out of your clips for once. You were wearing your pajamas, just a tank top, slouchy sweater, and flannel pajama pants, but somehow you looked more radiant than ever. He had come back down to earth after hearing someone call his name."Y-Yes?" He sputtered out, realizing you had been trying to get his attention."It's Morgan's turn, pay attention." You said, gently smacking your hand down on his thigh.

If he was riled up before, he was unbelievably undone at the slight sting from where your palm had just been. Light enough that it wasn't noticeable, but hard enough that it erupted a Shockwave through his body, centered on the location of the contact. He bit back the whimper threatening to escape his lips as he turned towards Morgan, trying desperately to not watch you from the corner of his eye.

"Never have I been a virgin at 24," Morgan said, beaming in his direction. Spencer took a big gulp from his glass of whiskey."You always do that one, I don't know why you think it's so funny, you're just trying to get me to drink" he said abashedly. He looked over at you, nervous for your reaction, but you seemed unfazed. "Hey, that's a wonderful gift to have, there's something so special about virgins. Maybe it's the idea that everything is new, but I like it. I love virgins." You said, taking a sip from your bottle, gently swaying. You had given up on never have I ever and just decided to drink whenever you felt like it. Maybe it was because you were tipsy, maybe it was the warm flush that decorated Spencer's cheeks, maybe it was the way he was looking at you with sultry, half-lidded eyes. You couldn't tell, but something made you want to find an excuse for you two to be alone.

"Geese, we seemed to have caught a succubus tonight." Morgan quipped."A suck-you-what now?" You said, cocking an eyebrow at him. " A succubus, it's a demon or supernatural entity in folklore, in female form, that appears in dreams to seduce men, usually through sexual activity. According to religious traditions, repeated sexual activity with a succubus can cause poor physical or mental health, even death. In modern representations, a succubus is often depicted as a beautiful seductress or enchantress, rather than as demonic or frightening." Spencer shot out. "Wow, even when you're drunk, your big brain keeps chuggin' along," you said, sloppily ruffling his hair "A beautiful seductress or enchantress, huh?" That time it came out low, inaudible to the others, but it pierced Spencer like a knife."Do you think that's accurate bout me?" you asked, staring up into his eyes, closer than you have been before. Spencer let a cartoonish gulping noise escape his lips as he held back his urge to lean into your touch.

"Ah, it's my turn," you said, leaning back into your spot in the circle and sadly, away from Spencer." Never have I ever done something naughty at our work," you said, looking straight at Spencer "I'll know if you're lying, I can sniff out a liar from a mile away," your cocky smirk leaking out of your mouth. Everyone except you and JJ took a shot."Wow, really you guys? Even you Spence? " JJ said in disbelief, looking around the circle."Never have I ever, my ass" Spencer mumbled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, looking over at you, thinking about your pantieless escapades.

"Look at that, Doctor Reid, you need another drink, let me go fix you one," You said as you grabbed his glass in one hand, leaning and gripping hard into his shoulder with the other. It wasn't seen by the others, but between that and the fiery look in your eyes, it sent an obvious message,' keep your mouth shut or I'll shut it for you.' You used him as leverage to get up, nearly pushing him over as you gracefully stumbled to the hotel fridge. He knew what you meant, but he didn't care, your grip on him went straight into his imagination as he envisioned what that grip would feel like in other places. He kind of wanted to push his luck, just so he could see what he had in store.

And push it he did as you handed him the glass, reminding him that it was indeed his turn to play never have I ever. "Never have I ever slept with my professor," He said, obviously targeting you with a glint of mischief in his eyes."Oh yeah, well never have I ever been a virgin at 24." You said, swaying as you sat down."Morgan already said that, dummy. Never have I ever worn stupid dark red lipstick" He retorted, equally as drunk as you. At this point everyone else had zoned you two out and were focused on other things, refreshing their drinks, counting the ceiling tiles, humming a sloppy rendition of My My Miss American Pie, or in Penelope's case, all three."Yeah, well never have I ever been a complete and utter mommas boy!" You continued, the statement turning Spencer beet red. You watched him clench and unclench his hands, you had obviously struck a nerve. Just as you were about to apologize, he cut you off. "Never have I ever had nipple piercings!" He shouted, pointing at your chest, now drawing attention to the obvious balls framing your nipples that you had once been covered by your long-forgotten sweater.

As he said it, it felt like the world went in slow motion. You could see the instant regret on his face as you dropped your bottle in surprise. It had landed on Spencers discarded whiskey glass and both shattered, wine and whiskey mixing with glass to create a slurry on the ground between them. "Fuck! You Guys!" Morgan said, "You got it all over my clothes." "Me too," Echoed Elle as they both stood up in their soaked clothes. "I think that calls it a night." JJ said, closing the laptop on the image of an already sleeping Garcia." Bye you guys, sleep well," you called after them as you and Spencer rushed around looking for towels to clean up the alcohol with.

"Ow! Son of a bitch!" Spencer cried as you dropped the last of the glass in the garbage can. As you rounded the corner, you saw Spencer pulling a rather large shard of glass that you must have missed out of his thumb, blood pooling at the tip. Without thinking, you crouched down and sucked his thumb into your mouth." A-ah! What... What are you doing!?" Spencer asked breathlessly, looking down at you with a deep hunger in his eyes. You pop off his thumb and squeeze it at the base, slowing the blood flow."Shut up," You said," This helps slow the bleeding. The sucking applies pressure. My mom used to do this for me... And no, do not psychoanalyze that." You said, wrapping your mouth around his finger, sucking to provide some pressure to slow the blood flow. You could taste the iron in your mouth, but you didn't mind, knowing you were helping your friend.

You were helping alright, helping in more ways than you would ever understand. "Yeah, like I'm the only one here with mommy issues," he said distractedly, too busy surveying your lips wrapped around him. You slapped your hand down on his thigh once more, eliciting a small whimper from him. He couldn't help it, you were a sight of beauty, you always were, but looking down on you right then, Spencer wanted to bottle that moment forever. The tops of your breasts peeking out from the top of your tank top, your eyes filled with a hazy glow, looking up at him to make sure he was ok, and your cheeks hollowing out around his thumb as you delicately sucked on his wound. It was as close as Spencer had ever gotten to anything sexual. He could feel your tongue swirling around the cut, lapping up the last couple drops of blood. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it was another appendage and not his thumb. You sucked on his thumb one last time, harder than you had previously, and before he even knew what he was doing, his hips bucked up, rubbing his hard cock against his pajama pants, finally relieving his mounting orgasm.

You let go of his finger with a pop as your tongue trailed off of the underside of his thumb. Spencer looked anywhere but you, as a wet patch formed through his thin underwear and pajama pants. He hurried to cover it with his sweater, shooting up from his seated position."Um, Um, I'm g-gonna go shower and go to bed." He said, hurriedly scurrying over to where he had left his room key." Sorry partner, I saw Morgan accidentally grab both of your keys on the way out. He's probably asleep by now." You said languidly, leaning back to take in the sight of the soft boy in front of you. Totally flushed with heat, small beads of sweat peppering his forehead, his hands twiddling suspiciously into his sweater in an attempt to conceal crotch, trying and failing miserably to hide his rapidly cooling cum.

He whined a little, lighting a fire in you. He looked so thoroughly fucked out, and all you had done was suck his finger. You knew that you just had to play with him some more. "You know, you can use my shower, doctor." You said, and he let out a small sigh of relief, heading towards the bathroom. "There is one condition, though," You smirked coyly as he halted his motions, his body facing away from you. It was almost as if he was ready to run away at any moment. You walked over to him, slowly, taking your time to tease him. The silence hung heavy in the air as you looked up into his eyes questioningly, waiting for him to ask. "Wh-what is the condition." He said, unable to return your gaze, hands fisted in the hem of his sweater, pulling it down even further. You smirked, dipping your hands up and under his sweater, nearly brushing his spent cock before gently placing them on his bare stomach, just above his waistband. He sucked in a tight breath as you gently swirled your fingers in the short hair that lead from his belly button down to happier places." Before I ask, do you know about the color scale?" you said, fingers smoothing out over his little stomach." Um, k-kinda?" He said, heat flushing his cheeks."Green means good keep going, yellow means slow down, and red means stop right now, ok?" You said, looking up at him as he nods."Come on pretty boy, I need verbal confirmation. I need to know that you understand, got it." You said with a little pinch to his tummy. "Y-Yes, I understand!" He blurted out, standing stiff as a board." Good boy. Now, for my condition. You can shower if you show me what you're hiding." You said, leaning close enough that if Spencer breathed, your chests would meet each other. "What color, Spencer?" you said, languidly drawing lines up and down his torso with your nails."G-Green, Very green." He sputtered out, finally meeting your eyes."That's what I like to hear, sweet boy." You said before your fingers danced below his waistline, now somewhat crusty from his cum."W-wait!" He says, just as you were about to take him in your hand. You instantly stopped and looked up at him gently."We can stop here baby, it's not a problem." You said, beginning to remove your hand from his pants. He grabbed your hand through his pants, stopping your movement."It-It's not that. I don't want to stop, I just want... well..." He said and looked down shyly. "What do you want baby, anything," You smiled up at him. "Um, I haven't had my first kiss yet and I kinda... Well... I kinda..." He said, shuffling his feet, face beet red. Your eyebrows shot up quickly in surprise before letting out a gentle smile."Do you want a kiss, pretty boy?" You said, gently brushing the hair out of his face. He nodded, and you grabbed his chin, bringing him close. "Use your words, pretty boy. What do you want?" You whispered, breath gently ghosting Spencer's lips as he took you in up close. He could see every little pore and dimple of your skin and every color hidden in the depth of your eyes and he knew he needed to have you.

He shakily leaned forward, lips gently meeting yours, so light that if you hadn't seen his actions, you wouldn't have even known if you had touched. You moved your hand down to his throat, giving a light squeeze."Come on genius, use your words," you said as he whimpered. "Please, can I kiss you, please, please?" He begged, leaning into your touch, pleading for you to squeeze again. His efforts shoot straight to your heart. You indulged him in a kiss, not as spicy as the situation would permit, more of a sweet heat. He came in too hot and heavy at first, but you kissed him languidly, gently stroking his cheek to get him in the rhythm. His arms were straight out at his sides, hands clenched as if he was willing every muscle in his body to not touch you.

You let out a small laugh as you melted into his kiss, soft, puffy lips dancing across yours. "You know you can touch me," You said, pulling back, smiling at the smear of your lipstick, now staining his lips, and the endearing puppy dog eyes he was giving you. "Where can I touch you?" He whispered out as if he were telling a secret. "Wherever you want, baby. Wherever your heart desires." You replied, bringing your arms up to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling your bodies closer. He was as stiff as a board as his hands flitted around trying to find a good place to land. He finally settled on weaving his arms around your waist and up to cradle your neck, gently carding his fingers through the hair that fell at the nape of your neck. There was something so sweet in the way he cradled your body with feather-light touches as if you would disappear like smoke if he lingered too long. You reveled in the feeling of you two pressed together, slightly uncomfortable at the stiff material of his pajama pants on your stomach.

"Hey sweetheart," You said, pulling away as he chased after your lips, "I'm feeling kinda sweaty from the day, would you like to join me in the shower? What color?" "G-green, yes please." He said, tentatively pressing a kiss to your collarbone, exposed as the strap of your tank top had fallen down. You unwound from him, taking his hand delicately in your own, instantly missing the warmth his body provided.

You lead him into the bathroom, carefully stepping over the wine-soaked towels discarded on the floor before shutting the door and turning to face him. "I don't want to take this too fast for you because I know it's all very new so always tell me how you are feeling and if everything is ok. I want this to be good for you baby, ok?" You said, squeezing his hand that was still intertwined with yours. "Ok, th-thank you," He said shyly.

"Now, what do you want to do first? You're probably pretty uncomfortable in those pants, do you want me to take them off you?" You said, hooking one of your fingers into his waistband, pulling on in slightly creating a much-needed separation between his sticky cock and his uncomfortable pants."Y-Yes please" He said as you turned on the shower, allowing it to warm up in preparation for cleaning him off before turning back to him. You gently grabbed the hem of his sweater and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless in front of you.

Lean muscles were hidden under a layer of peachy soft skin highlighting the gentle trail of dark curly hair leading from his belly button down past his pants. His arms curled around himself as he watched your eyes carefully, ready for some sort of judgment. "I know I'm not really that s-strong or anything but I can work on it-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss right above his belly button, startling him. You looked up sweetly into his eyes and gave him a soft smile, saying "You are so beautiful, Spencer. Morgan calls you pretty boy, but he truly has no idea. I would have you no other way than you are right now."

You gently peppered his chest with feather-light kisses, making him blush. He finally understood why people liked hickeys because as you trailed down his chest, the little wine red lipstick you had left on your lips left marks trailing down his chest. Some part of him wished they were permanent, showing off to all that could see, and they would know exactly who he belonged to. You dipped your hand into his waistband, asking, "What color?" "Green, very green," he choked out as your breath ghosted across his abdomen. You looked so beautiful, kneeled on the floor in front of him, taking care of him so gently and treating him so sweetly that he could feel his cock begin to harden again.

You looked up into his eyes as you pulled his pants down. He let out a soft sigh of relief as he was uncaged from his unfortunate trouser situation. His cock flipped down out of his pants, nearly smacking you in the forehead as you looked up at it in awe. Even though it was only semi-hard, it was bigger than any you had ever seen before. Spencer looked down at you shyly "it's not that much, I-I know but I've been researching techniques to make up for it in order to give sufficient pleasure for you- I mean for whatever partners I may have, not that I am saying that I won't please you, I dream of pleasuring you! ... I'm digging myself a hole aren't I."He rambled, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly. "Spencer, you are huge. Way more than I have ever had before. See?" You said, standing up, gently lifting his cock in your hand, measuring it against your stomach.

Maybe Spencer hadn't noticed because it was proportionate to his body and his big hands, but being held in your petite hands and measured against your stomach, he finally did see how much he would fill you up. The tip of his dick just barely reached past the gems that decorated your belly button piercing. "W-Woah." He said growing harder at the thought of pushing so deep into you. He looked up to your face, which was preoccupied with looking down at how far he would reach up in you.

Tearing your eyes away from him and up to his own, you flushed, knowing that he had caught you staring. "What would you like me to do next?" You spoke softly. Despite being the only two in the room, you two both talked in hushed tones, worrying that anything more than that would burst the delicate bubble you two had created. "Can we match?" He said, and you instantly understood him, despite the odd vernacular. You began to slip off your shirt, but he stopped you with an arm on your shoulder. "C-Can I do it?" He said shyly. "Of course, pretty baby," you barely get out before he drifted his hands under your tank.

He slowly lifted your top over your head as he took in the soft smooth feeling of your skin against his, goosebumps pricking up wherever his fingers trailed. You stood in front of him, shirtless as he took in your form. He had imagined what your breasts would look like. Nipples always hard due to your piercings, what your jewelry would look like, but nothing could prepare him for the glimmering moonstone gems that adorned your nipples and navel. Everything matched exactly, including the delicate necklace you wore around your neck.

The only thing he liked more than the perfection of your body was the features that made you, you. Some might call them imperfections, but to Spencer, all he could see in you was beauty. The gentle bruises on your skin from tangles with unsubs, the soft stretch marks that adorned your hips like little valleys and winding rivers, the slight blemishes, and hairs. He loved it because you were the embodiment of the confidence he wished for in himself. While he was always nervous about his body and how others perceived him, you loved yourself for exactly who you were, and you loved him for exactly who he was.

He pulled down your pants, gently following the twist and turn of the stretch marks as they winded down your hips, making sure to kneel down to pull them all the way off of you as you delicately stepped out, gently grabbing onto his hair to keep your balance as you swayed. He moaned softly at the gentle tug of your fingers while he stared up at you in awe. You took his hand in yours, coaxing him to stand.

You both stood there, taking in each other's forms for a moment, hands still connected as if by a thread at the pinky before you spoke. "We shouldn't waste water. Let me clean you off, sweetheart." He nodded before following after you into the gentle spray of the shower, steam now filling the room. He marveled at the way that the water droplets cascaded down your body, gently running down your curves. "Come here," you said, pulling him into a gentle embrace under the hot water.

Your two bodies pressed gently together, and Spencer couldn't help but think that you were molded for each other. Not in the way that a sculptor may stick two unmatched pieces of clay together with slip, more like one rock that had been split by the earth finally returning together. Something about your touch felt like home as you gently cradled him under the water.

He was so enthralled in your being that he didn't notice you gently scrubbing him with a washcloth until the scent of your body wash permeated the air. You gently scrubbed his back, washing off the sweat of the day and replacing it with you. He melted into you as your hands reached up, lathering his hair with shampoo. He wasn't sure if it was because he realized you should probably be getting washed too or because he desperately wanted to ride his hands along the planes of your body, but he decided to lather up his hands and wash you as well. "You are such a good boy. Thank you for cleaning me up" You said, resting your head gently on his chest, softly swirling the soap around his back, now finished scrubbing all you could from that angle, waiting to turn him around.

He moved carefully, avoiding your butt, still too nervous to touch. "Make sure you get everything, sweet boy. I like to be clean when I go to bed." You said, gently grabbing his hand and pulling it down to cup your butt. He inhales a sharp breath as he indulged in a gentle squeeze, continuing to wash you. He washed your back but his hands would occasionally drift down to your ass, growing more confident as he unknowingly rocked into you slightly with every squeeze, letting out soft keening noises.

You peeled yourself off of him as he rutted into the air, whining at the loss of friction. "Slow down, naughty boy. Bad boys don't get to touch. Are you a bad boy?" you asked as you placed a finger on the tip of his cock, swirling it in the precum pooling there despite the water's efforts to wash it off. "No, no! I'm a good boy! You're just so pretty, and you feel so good, and you smell so nice, and I wanna touch you, and I want you to touch me, please." He blurted out, looking at you with hungry eyes, begging for more friction. "Where do you want to touch me baby?" you asked as his eyes raked over your body, taking in all of his options. "I want to touch your boobies and your- your-" "My what? You can say it, naughty boy." You cut him off in his stammering. "Your pussy, I want to touch your pussy." He said, the hot water spreading the blush from his cheeks down his chest, tingeing his cock with a pretty pink hue. "What naughty words from such a pretty boy. You can touch-" he cut you off, lunging towards your body before you grabbed him by the throat, squeezing experimentally. Not too hard, not too soft. He moaned, and you felt the vibrations traveling up your hands."Let me finish what I was saying. Naughty boys don't get to touch. They get spanked." You said as he mewled." What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted was that you can touch, AFTER I wash you and after you finish washing me. Only after, you got it?" you said, squeezing a little tighter. "Y-yes." he croaked out. "Good boy," you replied.

You washed out the shampoo in his hair, replacing it with conditioner as he did the same for you. You squirted more soap onto your washcloth, preparing to test him. You took the washcloth in your hand, slowly working over his legs, arms, and chest, teasingly brushing over his overspent cock before returning to cleaning him. He washed you thoroughly, taking care to wash your legs before making sure your stomach and belly button piercing were thoroughly cleaned. Finally, he reached up to wash the leftover makeup off of your face. He touched you like a porcelain doll, worried that you would crack under even the slightest pressure, making you giggle. He flinched, thinking he hurt you, but you grabbed his face in your hands, delivering him a kiss that covered his face in soap.

You both stood there, laughing for a second, relishing the moment before you let out a shy smile. "You can touch my chest now, but make sure you clean my piercings carefully." He looked down at your chest, and now that he'd been given permission, he didn't really know what to do. You could see the puzzled look on his face so you grabbed one of his soapy hands in yours and brought it to your breast. He squeezed experimentally, and you let out a gentle moan. You had been keeping in your arousal to draw out his teasing, but you couldn't hold yourself back as you felt his large hands grasp around your chest and roll your nipple in his fingers.

There was a sweet dichotomy in the harshness of his grasp on your boob, coupled with the gentle twist of your nipple. It was as if he was worried to hurt your piercings, so he made up for it in his grasp. You brought the washcloth down to his cock, hard against his stomach, and began to work him. He whined at the harsh material. "I need to clean you up, baby. You still have a cummy cock. If you beg hard enough when I'm done, I will touch you." You said into his ear as he rested his head on your shoulder.

He was overstimulated, and you could tell, so you decided you wouldn't take as long as you wanted to tease him. But you would still draw it out for your own pleasure. He was bucking and mewling into you as you roughly got him off. It shot you straight to your core, the heat from the shower mixed with his grasp on you, physically and visually, had you closer than you wanted, and deep down you just wanted him to touch you.

When you deemed him clean enough you let the rag drop to the floor. "Beg" you moaned out. "Please, please touch me, I want your hand on me, that's all I want." He whined, bucking into the air. You took pity on him, grasping him with your soap-covered hand. He hissed as your soft touch replaced the rough rag and you could tell he was close. "Touch me, Spencer." You said and his hand shot to your core. His tentative moves giving way to a natural confidence. As he slipped a hand between your folds he could feel you dripping with desire. "O-Oh my god," was all he could stammer out before sinking two of his fingers into your depths, thumb circling your clit. You knew his fingers were long, and you had even fantasized about this exact moment, but nothing could prepare you for his actual length. He had said he did research but that was proven by how quickly he found your g spot and clit. You doubled over in pleasure as his fingers thoroughly fucked you out.

"Spencer, I'm so close, baby. Be a good boy and make me cum." You said, slumping against his shoulder, rubbing yourself against his hand. "Mommy, I'm cumming." He said, looking into your eyes as his body shuttered. His words ricochetted around in your brain, sending you over the edge as you cum all down his hand. You bit into his shoulder to muffle your scream, just as he matched you, cumming down your hand.

You came down from your high as Spencer nearly collapsed onto you. You took extra care in making sure he was all clean before helping him out of the shower and into a towel. He leaned against you the whole time as you got him ready for bed. You forced him to brush his teeth before dragging him to bed.

He sat at the edge, eyes bleary with sleep, taking in the events of the day. You sat behind him, gently toweling off his hair before brushing it and putting lotion on his body. He leaned into your touch, appreciating being cared for, feeling as if everything had been a dream. "C-Can I sleep here? I mean Morgan locked me out and I don't have pants and-" You cut him off with a gentle kiss."Of course, sweetheart, do you want to cuddle? It's ok if you don't or if you want this to be a one-time thing, it's all up to you, baby." You said, gently sweeping his hair out of his face as he looked up with eyes the size of dinner plates. "We can do this more than once? You'll let me? For real?" He asked. "Only if you want to sweetheart. This is all about you." You said, giving him a small smile tinged with a slight sadness. "That's not very fair, I want it to be about you too. What do you want?"

The question knocked you off guard. You're not used to people asking what you want. Usually, people just take and give none in return. The fact that Spencer Reid, your adorable virgin coworker was asking you what you wanted with such a sincere look, caused tears to prick into your eyes. "No one has asked me that in a long time," you smiled, "I would love to do this, and more again with you Spencer. Whenever you want." He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you down so you were lying next to each other on the bed. "Whenever we want" He corrected, cuddling into you.

You surveyed the bite make you left on his shoulder, running your hand over it. "Sorry for marking you up, I didn't mean to hurt you." You said softly as he blushed. "I-I was actually wondering... well... could you maybe give me a hickey? I like that you marked me." He said. You obliged him, giving him long kisses and sucks, gradually working up your force until a large purple bruise had formed on his collar bone. He was gently moaning the whole time, but you didn't want to work him up again as he had already cum twice that night and you didn't think he could handle more. He looked down at it as you pulled away, and you could see a question lingering on his mind.

"What's up?" you asked, smoothing his hair with your hand. "You said you hadn't been asked what you want in a long time, and I was wondering, well... who gave you your piercings?" he asked tentatively and you laughed." You have been reading my book too much, how many chapters have you read?" You said and he looked up at you surprised."You knew? and... well... only 3 chapters. I didn't want to pry into your private life." He said. "You just pried enough to know I want to get pierced by someone?" You asked raising an eyebrow. Before he could get an excuse out, you cut him off. "Well for a genius, you obviously didn't read it that carefully. I said I WOULD like to be pierced during sex, meaning I have not before. These are just standard piercings from a piercing shop, not a big deal, I just like the way they look." You said and he let out a sigh of relief. "Why? d'you get jealous?" you questioned him. He looked down and nodded shyly.

"I can be a lot of firsts for you but if you play your cards right, you can be a lot of firsts for me too. You already gave me a first tonight. You called me mommy. No one's done that before but it was really hot. I liked it a lot." You said matter of factly. "But that is a conversation for another day. It is 2 am and we need to be on a flight at 7:30, so let's get some sleep." You said, turning off the lights and cuddling up close to him. In a matter of seconds, you both were asleep, tangled into each other's arms, both of you feeling, for once, safe and sound.

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

Chapter 1 Here / Chapter 2 Here / Chapter 3 Here

Well wasn't that a doozy. I had so much fun writing that and I think it paid off for sure. Shoot me a message if you want to be added to my beloved tag list, speaking of which.

@spencer-reids-slut @ya-triedit @reidstoychest @flipperpenguins @thatsonezesty13 @jbbarnes-loki @big-galaxy-chaos

[wwilloww]

point of no return | PJM

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Smut. Fluff. Friends to lovers. Roommates AU.

WC: 10.2k

Summary: Both Jimin and you are determined to never act on the feelings you hold for one another. Instead, you’d rather shove it down, somewhere deep, dark, and inaccessible. So what do you get when you mix a broken furnace, an old victorian home, a little bit of jealousy in the club, and a need to keep warm together? A mess.

Warnings & Tags: Cursing. Reader is really freakin cold. Jimin sleeps in the nude. Spooning. Grinding. Obscene daydreaming about your best friend.  Sex dreams. Mentions of alcohol. Dancing. Jimin is a little jealous. Masterbation. Unexpected visual. Super soft makeout. Fingering. Orgasm denial. Sex. Slight power play. Creampie.  

AN: Oof! Finally! A Jimin fic! Thank you to @thatlongspringnight for guiding me through the last 6k of this fic, all written in one day and for being the most brilliant, queen of queens level beta reader. A big thanks to @triviasapphic too, for letting me use their likeness! 

This is very loosely based on this ask beautifully submitted by the loveliest @jinpanman for the milestone request party! 

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

point of no return 

“Fuckin’ shithead mutherfuckin cunt basket,” you hiss.

Nothing would turn it on.

You tried pressing the knob. You tried twisting it until your hand rubbed raw. You tried shaking it. You tried begging in your sweetest, most saccharine tone. You even tried giving it compliments.

“Have I ever told you how sexy you look with three coats of white paint? No?”

Fifteen minutes ago the antique radiator — so old it would probably be better in a museum of old technologies than as a functioning heat mechanism — stuttered to a halt and refused to turn back on.

When you had picked the house out with your best friend, Jimin, you’d loved it for it’s Victorian era charm. But now with the December cold creeping in through the thin window and your refusal to own more than one blanket you were shivering madly, teeth clattering cold. And wildly in doubt of your house hunting skills.

With a heavy sigh and slumped shoulders, you drag your comforter off of the mattress, wrap it tightly over your shivering shoulders, and pad barefoot down the hall. Instead of knocking, you just twist the door handle, letting the door swing open before you with a long, drawn-out squeak. You wince at the sound.

A dark figure sits up from the bed, squinting at you in the darkness.

“Is that—”

“It’s me,” you whisper. If it were anyone else, that response would be useless. But after years of friendship Jimin knows every tune and nook in your voice — the way it sounds when you’re upset, or scared, or — in this case — really fucking cold. “The heater broke.”

“What?” His voice is groggy and sleep-heavy.

“The heater broke. Can I stay here tonight?”

He scrunches his nose and wipes a hand across his face.

“Yeah, sure, uh—” He shifts a bit in bed and that’s when you realize he’s not wearing anything at all. You gulp. It’s the coldest month of the year and the fucker is naked in bed, nothing more than a top sheet thrown over his body, the rest of the duvet crumpled at the foot of the bed. Even though you know he’s one to sleep in the nude (“It invigorates your skin and keeps your body temperature regulated,” he had explained to you once) seeing it, in front of you, just the thinnest piece of fabric between you and your best friend’s junk is a whole other story.

As he moves, the sheet slips down, revealing his toned stomach, only visible by the moonlight flooding through the bay windows of his bedroom.

“Give me a minute to put something on?”

“Uh huh,” you mumble, turning around quickly to give him some semblance of privacy, your blanket whooshing out behind you.

You can hear him pad over to his dresser, just three feet behind you. You swallow hard as you imagine him, totally naked, so close to you. Literally within arms reach. If you could only—

“Turn around, I’m done.”

You peek over your shoulder before turning fully, only to see Jimin, now clothed in some pretty short black boxers, climbing back into bed. Blanket trailing, you shuffle after him, climbing into the warm bed from the other side.

You pull your comforter as tightly around you as you can, but you’re still cold. As you turn to face away from your friend, you can’t help but shiver, your shoulders shaking with the chill that’s settled deep in your bones.

“Can you stop shaking?” Jimin’s sleep-adled voice grunts from behind you.

“I’m too cold,” you whine.

“Come ‘ere—”

And before you know it, he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging your body backwards until it meets his. He pulls the blanket up and slides in behind you, wrapping himself around your shivering form.

“Better?” he asks while you’re still in shock from the amount of contact he’s just put the two of you in.

“Mhmm,” you squeak out, even as your body continues to shake.

“You’re a liar,” he chuckles.

“I don’t know why you bothered to ask then,” you snap back, wrapping your arms tight around yourself.

You’re not sure if he sees this or if he’s acting on his own accord. You let out a small gasp as he tugs you even closer, his arm slipping under the blanket to press against the skin of your hip. He maneuvers you backwards, your body as limp as a puppet, while you lay there in shock (and a small bit of exhilaration). He presses the back of your body flush against his front and snakes his top arm up the front of your torso until it rests in the center of your chest, gripping your opposite shoulder.

Trapped.

You’re trapped in his arms, nowhere to move, nowhere to go. Only the sound of your combined breaths, his a little more slow and sleepy than your nervous pant. Trapped only with the idea of him so close, and the strange thing fluttering in your chest that only continues to grow bigger and bigger despite all the work you’ve done to push it away. All you can think about is the way he’s pressed up against you, only your thin flannel pajama pants and his even thinner black boxers keeping the most sensitive parts of your bodies apart.

When he shifts, nustling his nose into the crook of your shoulder, you swear you can feel something long and hard press up against your ass.

And suddenly the warmth that is flooding through you has absolutely nothing to do with the shared body heat. Instead it’s coming from someplace deep down — somewhere yearning and desperate — and also from that strange fluttering thing in your chest.

All there is is white. You know somewhere far above you is an endless sea of stars, blinking down on you. But all you know is the grass beneath you and the swimming white sheets that float above and around you.

Someone’s laughing and you turn your face to see him — Jimin — beaming and reaching out towards you.

Somewhere in your mind you know it’s night time and that everything should be dark — and yet, everything around him is lit up and glows with a sourceless light.

Joy rushes through you and as you reach out towards him, he disappears and a new kind of light — warmth — appears behind you.

“I want—” you start to say, but his hand comes up to your mouth, silencing you.

“If you speak, you’ll break the dream,” he says. “Just enjoy it. Let me be here with you.”

Eyes don’t close in dreams, but you know you drift somewhere soft, the feeling of his body so close to yours and the precious rhythm of his breath tracing your neck.

All there is warmth.

Too much of it, actually.

As your eyes blink open to the dark room, the remnants of some dream, lots of white, Jimin’s smile fall away from your consciousness. You kick your leg out into the freezing air and sigh as the coolness washes the heat from your body. Relief.

The warmth that hasn’t been erased, however, is sitting heavy in your lower belly, pooling and swirling and wanting.

You do your best to ignore it, knowing it’s probably some mix of the dream and the thing that you’ve kept hidden on the edge of your consciousness for too long.

You close your eyes again, wishing for sleep to come back and pull you away from these thoughts. Just as you feel the soft edges of another dream lapping at the edges of your mind, Jimin groans behind you and comes to press up against you again, his hand snaking down over your belly.

Eyes shoot open. There. Behind you. Right between the swell of your ass. You can feel his cock pressing into you, at full hardness. You gasp at the sensation, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth so as not to wake him. Slowly, you try to scootch away from his grip, but he holds you there, his arm only tightening when you try to move away.

It’s not that you don’t want it — you do — your body is singing with electricity at the thought of his hard cock against you, between you, inside you. God, if only. However, it’s the consequences, the unspoken question, the unanswered desires (the answer to which you may just not want to know) that push you away from him.

This is your best friend. The person you’ve always been able to rely on and trust. The man you know you can turn to at any moment and know there will never be a question dangling between the two of you.

Except for now.

As he slowly circles his hips against yours, the most delightful, breathy pants falling from his lips — so soft you can barely hear them — the question looms larger than ever.

Are you in love with your best friend?

However, here, his arm wrapped so tightly around your belly, it’s easy to sink into the desire. To equate the arrival of the question with the arousal rising in your body. To tell yourself this is just pleasure, this is natural.

Jimin’s palm is splayed out across your lower belly, pressing hard against you.

He’s rutting shallowly against you, moving for the sake of his own pleasure. A high note of satisfaction slips from his lips, before a name tumbles shortly after it into your ear.

Not any name.

Your name.

You choke on your own words as you understand it. Confusion rushes over you but it’s quickly replaced by adrenaline as his hand clenches and unclenches around your shirt and he shifts and stretches.

Jimin is waking up. Is he going to say something? Is he going to tell you he didn’t mean it at all? Will he run from you?

His body freezes as he realizes the position he’s in. Wrapped so intimately around you, his hard cock pressed against you.

“Shit,” you hear him whisper. “Shit, shit, shit.”

You squeeze your eyes closed and lay as still as possible as you feel him pull away from you. And then the bed dips just enough and you realize he’s leaning over you, checking to see if you’re asleep or not.

You smooth out your features, hoping he doesn’t catch that you’ve been awake this whole time.

The December morning light is streaming in bold and warm through the window.

Your hand goes searching for Jimin, but all you find is an empty, chilled, pillow. There’s a good chance he’s already headed out for the day to see friends or to run errands and so you assume it’s safe as you tiptoe downstairs to get some water and some much needed coffee. Not that you slept much last night.

As you enter the kitchen, the earthy smell of fresh coffee hits you and you take a deep breath, inhaling the nutty aroma. There’s a full pot of coffee already waiting for you on the counter. You smile. Jimin has always been a considerate housemate, but to leave you coffee in the morning? I’m so lucky to have a friend like him, you sigh as you turn to the cabinet to grab a mug.

“Good morning!” an almost nervous, too-cheery voice sings out from behind you.

“AGh!” you cry, nearly dropping the mug you’re holding. Jimin’s quicker than you are though, and reaches out, just as it drops below your belly button. He’s laughing, his delightful giggle filling the light-painted kitchen but all you can think about is how close he’s standing to you, the mug brushing up against your stomach.

“Got it,” he grins.

“You know you can’t jump out at me like that!” you scold, trying to take the mug back from him. But he turns and goes to fill it up for you.

“I literally said your name twice before you noticed. Someone was too lost in dreamland.”

“Pshh, no, I — you need to be a little louder.”

“Can we talk about last night?” Jimin asks as he hands you a cup of coffee. “I, uh, I think there was an accident, I had a dream you were—”

You panic.

“Last night? Oh gosh yeah! I slept like a rock! Thank you for keeping me warm. I would have frozen to death if it weren’t for you.”

You smile as sweetly as you can at him.

He blinks back.

“I mean — uh, yeah, sure, I mean, you’re welcome but that’s not what I mean —”

“Nothing to talk about!” you chirp, already scurrying towards the stairs that lead back up to your bedroom.

“Hey! I’m trying to talk to you!” he cries as you pad upstairs, making a beeline for your bedroom as the coffee you’re holding sloshes around in the mug.

“Oof, well I’m already tired again, gonna take a nap!”

You sprint up the stairs and as you do you hear him call behind you.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

It hits harder than you want it to.

“Come on, princess. You’re taking forever!”

You’re back down on your bed, swaddled in all the blankets in the house you could find, scrolling through your phone.

“I don’t want to go!”

“Well I do!” The door finally swings open and Jimin stands there, all dolled up for the night out. He’s wearing tight leather pants that hug his toned thighs just right and a half opened black shirt that he’s still buttoning as you look on. Beneath his hands, his chest shows, the muscular planes simple and sheer perfection. A single silver earring dangles from his left ear, the other one filled with a variety of studs.

As you peek out of your blanket fort, you gulp as you take in his flawless appearance. He looks like straight sex, the darkness of his outfit highlighting every muscle and curve.

"You look nice," you manage to squeak, and Jimin blushes, his praise kink showing. "Those pants are..." Hot as fuck? More beautiful than the Mona Lisa? Just asking me to rip them off? Floundering for language, you just let your sentence trail off as he looks on, a pink tinge still dancing across his features.

"You wanna wear them?"

"Pfft, no," you lie.

“Are you planning on getting out of bed?”

“No.”

"Well then, if you're not going to get out of bed and dress yourself I'll do the honors." Jimin stomps over to the tiny door leading to your closet and swings it open. He ruffles through your set of clothes, as disparate from a full flannel collection (one that you are quite proud of) to an evening gown that never got worn. Words you can't quite hear or understand tumble from his mouth in a stream of frustrated mumbles as he seems to be looking for something very specific. "Aha!" he finally cries out. "Here it is."

What he pulls out is not what you expected.

It's a simple piece. A light tan slip dress, one with a bit of a scoop to the bust. One that hugs all of your curves just right and sits low enough the weight keeps the dress exactly where you want it to be and high enough that your upper thighs are deliciously on display - something that simultaneously excites you and scares the hell out of you. You bought it on a whim, hoping it would help you embody your inner club girl (or "inner slut" as your friend Jungkook would correct you - which, if you were being entirely honest, was really what you meant when you spoke about going to the club.)

"That one? Really?"

"What, you wanna wear this?" He turns back to the closet before pulling out a second dress, this one long and emerald green and sparkly with a full slit up the side.

"No." You pout.

"Then what's the problem?"

"Ugh!" you cry, burrowing deeper into your blanket fort. "Itsmyslutdress," you mumble.

"What?"

"Itsmyslutdress!" you mumble, but louder this time.

"Did you just call it a slut dress?"

You pop your head out of the warmth cocoon with a sigh.

"Yes."

"What does that even mean?"

"It is the dress I wear when I want to embody my slutty alter-ego. The dress I wear when I wanna get laid."

Jimin blinks a few times before turning back to you with a grin.

"Well--do you not want to get laid tonight?" he asks slowly.

You gape at him.

Even as best friends, even talking about your hookups, you never really talked about sex iteself. Everytime you brought it up, whether it was at the bar and you were ogling some tall, dark, handsome stranger as if some psychic had promised you he was your entire future, he always seemed to shut down. And yet, around your other friends, he was an open book. "Basically a sex expert," Jungkook had told you once. "A sexpert." He'd added, grinning.

But with you, sex was off the table. You were more open and vulnerable with him than you were anyone in your life - and he with you. But sex was just never on the discussion board for you two.

"Do you wanna get laid tonight?"

"Are you offering?" you shoot back teasingly.

"Of course," he says softly.

Your mouth drops.

Of course? Of course?!

"I mean! No! What? Wait? Can you repeat the question?"

"You said yes," you say slowly.

"What! No! I did not!"

Jimin is basically stomping his foot on the ground.

"You did!"

He looks almost angry and you're not sure whether to laugh at the softness with which he had agreed to fuck you - or to feel hurt by his quick change of mind.

"Did not!"

You break into giggles finally releasing yourself from your cocoon of warmth to sprawl out on the bed in a fit of laughter. Your little tirade is quickly shut down though as the silky fabric of the dress is thrown onto your face and you cough around the material.

"Get dressed. I don't want to be late," he says, his voice flat.

“It’s too cold for the slut dress,” you grumble in a last ditch effort, fabric falling into your mouth as you sleep.

“Then wear a fucking turtleneck and snow pants to the club,” Jimin says. “I don’t care, just please get dressed.”

The door slams and when you pull the dress away from your face, the room is empty again. With a sigh, you roll off the bed and begin to get ready for the night.

By the time you pulled up to the dark, sticker-plastered doors of the club, Jimin had resumed his usually joyful and peppy demeanor, all memories of his little slip up erased from the night.

You knew better than to push him about it. You knew that he shut down when you called him out on these things in the past— like the way his eyes lingered on you for too long when you showed off a new bathing suit, the cute little stutter he donned when he was flustered by you, or the way he would basically run at top speed in any direction away from you when you emerged from the shower, nothing but a towel wrapped around your body.

As you are swallowed into the sea of dancing figures and booming bass, you feel his hand come to rest on your waist. Pushing further into the crowd, his touch is reassuring. Steadying. His way of keeping a hold on you without actually holding onto you.

He sees them before you do, and quickly grabs onto your hand, tugging you forward into the mass of swaying figures. Waving and yelling their names, the two of you tumble towards your friends. Jungkook and Raven stand near the bar, their faces lighting up when they finally spot you in the mess of strangers.

Raven embraces you first, his arms pulling you in for a tight hug.

“I wanna dance!” Jungkook says before you can even step away from Raven. Drinks abandoned, Jungkook has grabbed both yours and Jimin’s hands and drags you out to the dance floor.

The bass courses through you as your friends surround you, bopping and swaying to the barely understandable lyrics.

Jimin has always been a good dancer. A great dancer, actually. His moves range from absolutely side-achingly hilarious to -- dare you say it -- undeniably sensual.

He twirls you onto the dance floor, the two of you falling into your usual routine of swinging and laughing and kicking all around.

And as the upbeat and perhaps misplaced summer hit switches to a more sensual song he matches it naturally, letting his hips sway and glide to the rhythm. He pulls you along with him, twirling you more slowly. When you twist into his grasp, he doesn’t hesitate to take you into his arms, pressing you against him.

As his arms come to wrap around your shoulders, you can’t help but press back into him.

Raven winks at you and you grin back at him, shooing him and his teasing away.

It’s easy to fall into this. Easy to fall into the sway of Jimin’s body and the safety that comes with being pressed so close against him. You fit perfectly into his body, every one of your curve the antithesis to his. Like two puzzle pieces.

You let your hand drop down to his thigh, gripping it for stability as you sway your hips against his. The muscle tenses beneath your touch and you take that as an opportunity to roll your ass against his crotch.

He meets your movements, grinding back up into you, his hand dropping to your waist where he grips you tightly and guides your movements even further back into him.  

"We shouldn't be doing this," he whispers in your ear.

His body pressed against yours feels like the most natural thing in the world. The nights the two of you have spent in your kitchen, sliding around in socks and grooving to your favorite music, springing each other around your shared house — all of those hours, all of those years make it so when he moves against you he knows exactly what he’s doing and exactly what you want him to do. You move in tandem, as if you are sharing a brain, a story, a body.

You tilt your head up to him, nuzzling into his neck.

“Why not?”

“I-I can’t mess up.” He says, but he continues to sway at your back.

“You’re not messing up. I like this.”

As you reach behind you, letting your hand trail up beneath his shirt, you can feel him press into your touch. Chasing it, searching it out. But as your hand trails back down, fingernails scraping delicately against the skin, he seems to snap out of it and steps back from you, even as he keeps his hands on your hips.

You turn, trying to pull him back to you, but you see his brow is furrowed.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Just fine!” he says, just a little to cheerfully. “I-I just think I’m done with dancing for tonight.”

Even as he says it he pulls you closer to his chest.

“I’m going to get some drinks, do you want something?”

“You don’t want to dance with me?”

“I— uh— it’s not that.” He shakes his head.

“Please, come on, it’ll be fun,” you groan, tugging on his arm. But he stands firm and stiff. “Aren’t you having fun?”

“I don’t want to dance tonight. Just go on ahead.”

You look your friend up and down. Jimin was never one to turn down an opportunity to dance.

“Okay,” you say, painting a smile on your features even as your heart aches slightly at his rejection. “I just want you to have fun. Do you want me to come with?”

“No--it’s okay. I’ll be back, alright?”

“Alright?”

You watch as he disappears back into the mass of people. You stand still, wondering What the hell just happened?

However, your thoughts are quickly interrupted as Raven reaches out to you, pulling you to him in a graceful spin.

“Distract yourself, darling,” he says with a chuckle. “He’ll come around, don’t you worry.”

Before you have a chance to process his words, Raven spins you out again in the crowd.

You stumble just a little bit, until hands come to rest on the dip of your hips, lingering there just enough to stabilize you. However, they quickly release you as soon as you are standing tall again.

“Oh, ah, thank you,” you half-yell as you turn around, attempting to raise your voice above the noise.

The man who stands behind you is undeniably gorgeous. Tall, with a dark lock of hair hanging into your forehead and the most beautiful smile.

“No worries, it happens all the time,” he grins at you. “What’s your name.”

You yell back at him, but when he can’t hear you, you step closer to him, pressing against his chest to speak your name into his ear. His hand comes down on your waist as you do, lightly.

“My name’s Hoseok. You can call me Hobi though. Care to dance?”

You grin up at him and nod. You’ve never been one to turn down a dance partner.

He takes your hand, quick to find the rhythm of the music.

Hoseok is a natural. As each song progresses, his dances become more intricate. He’s happy to lead you through them and you can’t help but laugh as he spins you around the floor while others are swaying and grinding. You’ve never had this much fun with a stranger, but as he moves against you, you can’t help but think of the way Jimin felt pressed so close to you earlier in the night. It’s just not quite the same.

It’s easy to get lost in him, in his beaming smile and witty jokes that he bends down to whisper in your ear. He compliments you freely, and you do the same in return.

As the night continues you and Hoseok dance closer and closer until he’s pressed deliciously up against your back. You find yourself lost in the sensation of being embraced by someone, even if it isn’t the person you’d want to be there.

“I hope I’m not being too forward, but do you wanna come home with me?” The man leans down, the husk of his voice brushing deliciously against your ear.

“I can’t.” You say, turning back towards him. “But thank you.”

“No problem,” he says, leaning down to chastely kiss your cheek. “Can I ask you a question before you go?”

You nod.

“Does your refusal have anything to do with the man at the bar who hasn’t taken his eyes off of us since we started dancing?”

“What?”

He nods over your shoulder, back towards the bar. Through the crowd, you can barely see your friends, but as you reach up on your tippy toes you see them all gathered around, laughing and talking. And then at the edge of them is Jimin. He stands tall and proud and with an unusually grim expression on his face. But when he sees you looking at him, he quickly averts his gaze to his drink, which he is continually swirling in his hand.

“You’re going home with him, aren’t you?”

“Well, duh, he’s my roommate, I—”

“You should go for it,” he interrupts you.

“Go for it?”

“Go for it.”

“There’s nothing there,” you state, matter of factly. “We’re just really good friends!” You’re not sure why you tell him this, but there’s something soft in his eyes that spurs you on.

“Good friends don’t eye fuck each other all night.”

“We weren’t—”

“No need to explain it to me.” He holds up his hands. “But it seems like you have some explaining to do to him. Or at least to yourself.”

You sputter. “Psh! What! No! I’m just tired, Hobi, and if I had the energy I would be fucking you right here, right now, on the dance floor. It has nothing to do with Jimin. Nothing at all!” You realize you’ve got your finger poking into his chest and you quickly draw it back. “Sorry.”

“Okay…”

“Well.” You put your hands on your hips, wiping the frustrated look off of your face. “I should go, I guess. It was nice dancing with you, partner. I’ll be the first to admit you got great hips.”

He’s laughing, and you’re not sure if it’s at you or with you, but when you extend you hand for a friendly fistbump, he meets it with all the enthusiasm in the world, pulls you into a hug, and is off on his merry way, off to find a new dancing partner.

Left alone in the middle of the floor, you kind of just stand there, mulling over what the stranger had said to you. Soon though, you feel a hand on your shoulder and you spin around to see a blank faced Jimin.

“I, uh, just wanted to check in on you.”

“I’m all good!” you chirp, perhaps too cheerfully. As you begin to make your way back to the bar, his hand comes to rest on your lower back and you shiver at the touch.

“So you’re not going home with him?” He nods back in the direction of the disappearing stranger.

“Why would I?”

“Well, you wore your slut dress, so I figured he was a contender.” He doesn’t meet your eye.

“I didn’t want to fuck him.” You stop, and turn to him.

He laughs, almost nervously. “Well I guess that’s an important factor.”

“Yeah, just a minor detail,” you shoot back, grinning.

“I guess it’s all for the best. Didn’t like the looks of him much anyways.

You giggle. “What? Are you jealous?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t be jealous.”

“Can’t be? Or aren’t?”

Jimin blinks back at you, an expression of utter surprise on his face. You know his answer in that moment, and yet — there is a kind of doubt that sits in you. That until he says it, it just won’t be real.

And still, he avoids your question.

“I think I’m gonna head home, do you wanna come with or head back with Tae and Raven?”

“I’ll come back with you, there’s nothing left here for me.”

“Great,” he says, a small smile on his lips. “Let’s go.”

“My heat is still out,” you call.

You’re standing at the door to his room in nothing but your pajama shirt. When you’d gotten home Jimin was quick to wish you goodnight and sweet dreams and book it up to his bedroom. You had gone to your own room and changed into sleep clothes, only to climb into bed and realize just how fucking freezing your blankets still were.

But as you stand outside his bedroom, when you press down on the handle, the door is unusually locked. He never locks the door, you think.

“Jimin!”

You push down on the handle, jiggling it obnoxiously as you hope your best friend can hear you from the other side, and isn’t just ignoring you. As you rattle the metal handle, something seems to come loose within the door and all of a sudden the door is swinging open inwards and there’s Jimin, leaning against the backboard of his bed, legs spread, and--

“Oh no—”

Even as your hands flash up to cover your eyes, you know it’s too late.

You’ve already seen it.

It’s imprinted on your brain. The image of Jimin with his head thrown back, hand wrapped around his throbbing cock hastily pulled out of his jeans. He must have been in such a rush he didn’t even bother to pull his pants down. Instead, the leather pants are simply tugged down just enough from him to slip his cock out of them.

“What the fuck!” he yelps.

“Did I—interrupt?” You can’t help but burst into giggles, even as you keep your hands firmly clamped to your face.

“Yes! Yes, you did!” he says, scrambling for the sheet. He pulls it over himself and then does up his pants again.

“If it makes you feel any better you have a nice looking dick!” you squeak out from behind your hands.

He wipes a hand wearily over his face.

“You really wanna have a conversation about my dick right now?”

“See a dick, converse about a dick, am I right?” you laugh nervously.

“No, no, you’re not. It usually goes like ‘see a dick, forget the fact that you ever looked at a dick.’”

“You got a point there.”

The room falls into silence for a moment before Jimin coughs and speaks.

“You can take your hands away now.”

Ever-so-slowly you release your hands from your face, looking over at Jimin who looks — not upset, not embarrassed, not angry — but intrigued. He’s looking at you with a mix of curiosity — and something else. Something you can’t quite put a finger on.

“Welp, I better be going—”

“I thought you said your heat is still out.”

You turn back around slowly.

“...It is. But I can go. I don’t want to make you feel… uncomfortable.”

“You’ve never made me feel uncomfortable. I don’t know if you could.”

“I’ve definitely made you feel uncomfortable before. Like that one time I put peanut butter on your special pickles and tried to fry them—”

“Okay, okay, maybe in like, a superficial way. But not in a deep way.” He pauses. “You’re my best friend for a reason.”

You’re still standing in the doorway, and as he looks you over — gaging your reaction, reading your emotions, trying to understand what’s going on in that far-off mind of yours — he realizes you’ve got your arms wrapped around your torso, protecting yourself from the biting draft that drifts down the hallway.

“Come ‘ere. You’re sleeping here tonight.” He says it without hesitation.

You look at him, and then back down the darkened hallway, and then back at him, the warm glow of his bedside lamp painting his features gold. His cheeks are still slightly flushed, his chest peeks out of his loose button down. And perhaps it’s that image that draws you to him — or, what you tell yourself in that moment, the inviting warmth of the layers of blankets on his bed and the radiator that sits close by.

You climb into bed, quickly tucking yourself into the blankets and rolling onto your side, away from him. However, you can feel his hands reaching out towards you, pulling the blankets closer to you, tucking you in further to their addicting warmth.

“I’m uh, gonna read for a little bit, is that okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, course,” you say, your voice slightly muffled by the pillow you’ve stolen and burry your face into.

He rifles through the nightstand. Behind you, he shifts, getting a bit more comfortable and you can hear the comforting sound of pages turning as he begins to read.

Even as you close your eyes, sleep evades you. As much as you try to banish it from your mind, it seems as if the image of his thick cock is burned into your retina, the vein on the underside of it swollen and pronounced. All you can see in your mind’s eye is Jimin, lost in his own pleasure. His face scrunched, eyes squeezed shut. What would it be like to see what he saw, whatever it was that had him gripping his cock so tight the knuckles began to turn white?

“So do you usually masterbate without porn?”

It slips out before you know what you’re saying.

He coughs behind you, and it sounds like he’s choking.

“What?!”

Well, you think. Now that it’s out there I might as well just go for it. You flip over onto your otherside, face half hidden by the blanket.

“When I walked in on you — you were just… lost in thought. No video or audio or,” you nod at the book he’s holding. “Rip off of Half a Hundred Colors of Dark-White.”

He gapes at you.

“Why are you so obsessed with my masterbatory habits, hm?”

“I-I’m not! I’m just curious, like one would be when they accidentally catch their best friend masterbating. We all, you know, do it. I, myself, have a very lovely connection of multi-colored vibrators — all sizes and shapes and, uh, textures? And vibrations and settings and speeds and—”

“So you wanna talk about it then?” He’s still sitting above, looking down on you. He cocks an eyebrow at your surprised expression. “You didn’t want to talk about last night but you want to talk about how I get myself off?”

It’s your turn to gape.

“Uh, what? Last night, psh no!”

He readjusts his position so he’s facing you now, one leg bent and propped up, the other one folded beneath it. You do your best to keep your gaze focused on his face, and not on the prominent bulge that is now in your direct line of vision.

“So you weren’t grinding on my cock last night — or god forbid tonight at the club — But you wanna know about my masterbatory habits?”

You swallow and despite the chill air of the bedroom, you sit up, letting the blankets fall around your waist.

“I suppose that is what I’m asking.”

Heart pounding in your chest, you lick your lips. You know what you’re asking. You know where you’re pushing things. Everything about this next step terrifies you. And yet, it’s all you’ve been thinking about for the past 24 hours. Hell, the past several years.

You’d be lying if you said that last night’s dream was the tamest of the ones Jimin starred in. He haunted you. His image, his being, were everywhere you turned. Even when you were with other partners or one night stands, all you could do was compare them to Jimin. Were they as softly hilarious as him? Did they know your every thought, your every desire, like he did? Could they anticipate your mood before you even could? Did they fill you with that feeling of belonging and safety like he did? No. None of them ever did. You didn’t just crave Jimin’s attention, you craved his touch.

“You know, most friends talk about this kind of shit.”

“Do they?”

“Yes. They talk about sex. They talk about getting off. They talk about their interests and turn-offs and fantasies and--”

“And you wanna talk about this?” His hand lands on yours. You look up at him as he squeezes your fingers within his warm grasp.

“I-I guess I do. Sometimes it bothers me that we don’t talk about it.”

“Then let’s talk about it,” he says, a little bit more confidence slipping into his voice. He picks your hand up, weaving his fingers in between yours. The way he looks at them reminds you of someone looking at a beautiful vista or an undiscovered creature for the first time. There is wonder -- and also confusion -- in him. “I never wanted to make you uncomfortable. I never wanted to… turn our friendship into something that you didn’t want. Something that made you uncomfortable.”

“And I didn’t want to push.”

“Push me? Into what?”

You glance down at your hands. “I don’t know, something that you were disgusted by.”

“I could never be disgusted by you. It’s the opposite, actually.”

“Then why do you keep pushing me away? When I want to talk about things? When I want to be close to you?”

Jimin is silent for a moment.

“Because I’m never sure if this is just fun to you,” he says softly. “What if something happens and you realize you don’t want it in the way you thought you did?”

“And what if something happens and it’s exactly what I want?” One hand still resting in his grasp, you reach out with the free one to clutch onto his shirt. Not wanting to push too far, you make do with tangling your fingers in the silky fabric, twisting it around yourself until you are lost in it.

You don’t see it coming. His hand reaching up to yours, pressing your hand to his chest. Slowly, he slides your intertwined hands up until he can press your palm to his chest. Beneath the fabric you can hear the gentle thud of his heart beating, quicker than usual. And there, he just holds it. Mulling. Contemplating.

“It feels like I’ve been distracted…” He licks his lips as he considers his next several words. “...for weeks. Probably longer. I’ve been trying to hold everything in because it’s not supposed to be there. But the temptation to just give in… To just lean into the things that I want… It’s always there. It doesn’t go away. But--sometimes I can distract myself from it.”

“What is it that you want?”

His gaze flickers back up from your lips. The look in his eyes is searing. Burning. There’s desire there — one that’s all consuming — but something else too. He refuses to look away from you, instead roving over your whole face as if he’s trying to memorize it. As if when he speaks next he might forget you entirely. And that’s when you realize. It’s not confusion dancing in his eyes. It’s loss. He thinks he’s going to lose you.

“It doesn’t matter. I can’t have it.”

“You can.”  

“I can’t.” He squeezes his eyes shut, like he’s trying to hold back. “There— there are lines that once you cross you can never go back to.”

“Jimin, I want you.”

The words hang in the stilled silence of the room like lead, suspended and out of place. But you push on, and as you do, his grip tightens around your hands and he’s pulling you forward until you’re flush against his chest.

“And it’s not because of your monster cock -- although that’s like a really really great benefit that I’ll be honest, I wasn’t expecting--” Jimin raises an eyebrow. “Anyways, I want you for you. I think I’ve wanted you since I met you, but--” You glance down. “I’ve been too scared to admit it. Too scared or too dumb.”

Jimin raises your chin so that you are eye to eye. He’s so close.

“I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you.” He lets his hands drop to your hips, maneuvering you so that you’re fully straddling his waist as he sits up against the headboard. “I wanted you in my life, in whatever way that would be. I wanted you as my best friend and my inspiration and my home -- and to have you like that? I would never want to fuck it up.”

“Then don’t.”

“Simple as that,” he laughs, his hands coming to rest on your hips. He tightens his grip and you instinctively wrap your hands around his neck, tugging him closer to you.

“Simple as that,” you repeat.

The words hang in the air for a moment, filling the space of the bedroom. And then their sound is gone, leaving the air vacant of sound. The weight of what you’ve both just said crashes down upon you.

Simple as that.

“I want to kiss you,” Jimin whispers. “Can I kiss you?”

“Always,” you barely manage to mumble before your lips are crashing together. They begin clumsily, desperate. Teeth knocking together as you both scramble frantically for connection. For the missed years. For the gazes thrown across the hallway, quick and longing.

And then you find your groove. Just like on the dance floor, there is an unspoken communication to the way that you move together. Chasing and pursuing. Biting and pressing. You gasp as Jimin slips his tongue between your lips, swiping against the roof of your mouth.

It feels like forever and no time at all that you’re wrapped up in his arms, his hands climbing the height of your back as he pulls you as close as he possibly can.

As the kiss slips into gentleness, you feel him between your legs. He’s impossibly hard. You don’t know if it’s thought or basic instinct that leads you to press your hips forward, sliding ever so slightly along his length. You know you’ve done the right thing when he groans into your mouth. You do it again, this time swiveling against him. His hands snake down to your hips, fingers digging into the fleshy bits of your sides.

“I don’t think you know what you’re doing,” he groans against your lips.

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

He kisses you fiercely and you let your hands wander beneath the silk of his shirt, tracing the planes of his skin until you’ve had enough and need more. You attempt to tug the fabric up, but he seems lost in your lips.

“Off, please,” you say when you can’t get it over his shoulders.

He grins at you and shucks it off in one go, tossing it onto the floor.

You lean back just enough to admire him like this, the planes of his chest glowing dimly in the light of the lamp.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmur in awe.

He captures your lips again, his movements soft and dutiful. And then with all the gentleness in the world, he turns the both of you, cradling the nape of your neck as he lowers you down onto the pillows.

“I never thought I could have you like this.”

“Me neither. I-I don’t know if I can go back.”

“Don’t worry, darling. I already know I don’t want to go back.”  

You smile up at him, a feeling of warmth and love spreading through your chest. As he sits back, looking down on you, you tug your shirt over your head, tossing it to join his discarded top on the floor.

His eyes rove over your naked form, bare of everything except for the grannie panties you slipped on before knocking on his door. At the beginning of the night you wanted nothing but to make sure everything was thoroughly covered. Now you wish you had gone for something a bit more stylish.

Even as you think this, looking at him you know he doesn’t give a flying fuck what you’re wearing.

He leans down again, kissing you. He lets his weight rest just enough on you as he settles between your legs and you arch up at the dull contact.

As he bites down on your lip, you push up into him, searching for more.

“Can I touch you?” he asks.

“Please,” you gasp.

His hand comes down on your thigh, pushing you open just enough. And then, as he comes back to kiss you, he slips his hand down your stomach, fingers teasing at the waistband of your panties.

You can’t help as your hips buck up as he slips a finger down your folds. You’re already soaking, arousal quickly coating his finger.

“Shh, shh,” he whispers against your lips, gaze searching yours. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

As the final word slips out of his mouth, he inserts the first finger into your tight entrance and you yelp in pleasure, the feeling of him filling you more sensation than you could imagine. Ever so slowly, he begins to pump it in and out before adding a second finger.

“I want to get you ready for me,” he murmurs. “If that’s what you want.”

“I want it,” you gasp as he presses against your g spot. “Please, I need it, please, Jimin, fuck me.”

“Patience, baby. I will in due time. But first I need you a little more stretched out.”  

When he adds a third finger, the pressure building deliciously in your abdomen, there’s nothing you can do to hold back the way your body jerks or the whine that slips through your lips.

“God, I never even imagined you would sound this desperate, this beautiful.”

As he continues to press against the soft spongy spot inside you, you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep control but quickly losing it.

“You thought about this?”

“Of course I thought about it.”

“Tell me what you thought about,” you pant, his fingers still working rhythmically in and out of you.

“The list is endless,” he murmurs. “I think about what it would feel like to fuck you. What it would sound like to have you call my name. What it would be like to have you cum again and again around my cock, and then walk out of here, with it dripping down your leg so that anyone who sees will know it too. To have you so fucked out and screaming that everyone in a ten mile radius knows exactly who is fucking you so well, who you belong to.”

“Ah!” you cry as your orgasm begins to build. “Jimin! I’m so close, I--”

And just like that, his fingers are gone from your clenching walls and you are left with a feeling of absolute emptiness drifting through you. He pulls back with a smirk.

“Wha--”

“When you come, I want it to be around my cock.”

Your gaze flickers down to his crotch, where his dick is straining against the tight confines of the leather. “That just can’t be comfortable,” you say, your voice shaking even as you unapologetically eye his obvious arousal. “Please take them off. I’ll make you feel good.”

“You can?”

“I want to,” you explain. “I want to help.” You look up at him again and see that his gaze is dark with desire. “Can I?”

Slowly, he nods, and you reach out towards him, for the buttons to his jeans. As your fingers land on the cold metal of the button, his come down atop yours, popping the button open expertly.

As you slowly slide the zipper down, you swallow.

Everything about this feels right. There’s the sensation of a fire burning in your chest. It’s not just wanting his body. It’s chasing the feeling of electricity sparking through you every time he touches you. Chasing the want of his hands, his gaze, his everything focused on you. Something twinges in your heart. Even as you want these things, you know it’s not fair to ask them of him, to expect them of him.

He stands to slip the rest of his pants off and you realize he’s not even wearing underwear. You gulp as you watch him strip, his beautiful body soon revealed in the dim lighting. His cock stands at full attention, deliciously hard and poking against his belly.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks.

“I want it more than anything.”

The bed dips underneath his weight as he climbs towards where you lay. He lowers himself above you, expertly balancing his weight so that it doesn’t crush you. With one hand, he reaches down to palm his hard cock, the tip red and angry with need. With his knee, he pushes your legs wide open, making room for himself and spreading you out before him. At a devastatingly slow speed, he lines himself up with your aching center.

“So wet for me, princess. You’ve always been beautiful to me, but spread out like this, just waiting for my cock? You’re a dream.”

“Please,” you gasp.

“Please what?”

As he comes to nestle his cock in between your dripping folds, you whimper with need.

All you can feel is his cock, his touch against your skin, the way his presence surrounds you and envelopes you.

“Please,” you whisper. “I need you, Jimin.”

He chuckles.

“You’re so desperate, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to fuck me.”

“My baby wants me to fuck her?” He slides slowly in and your back arches devilishly at the sensation of his fat cock stretching you open for him. He watches your facial expression carefully, not wanting to hurt you or push you too far too fast.

When he sees you relax just a little, he pushes in even further until he’s nestled inside you to the hilt. Once he knows you’re comfortable, he lets himself slip into the pleasure of you wrapped all around him. His eyes flutter closed, and he nestles his nose into the crook of your neck.

Gathering himself, he takes a deep breath, pushing up off of you so that he can better look down at you, your hair splayed on the pillow, cheeks warm with arousal, eyes wide in pleasure.

“God, you’re perfect for my cock. Like you were made to fit me.”

“Mmf, so big,” you groan as he shifts inside you. “Never felt this full before.”

As he begins to move, you gasp, hands coming up to cling at his back. The drag of his cock against the walls of your cunt is divine and you can’t help as your nails dig into his skin, raking down the planes of his back.

His eyes never leave your face, tracing your pleasure every time it flashes across your features.

“When I imagined this,” he pants, “I never even thought it could feel this good.”

He withdraws at a maddeningly slow pace, until just the tip of his cock rests inside your warmth.

“Please Jimin,” you gasp. “I need more.”

He smirks down at you. “More?” He gives a shallow thrust.

“More,” you groan, trying to push your hips down on him, anything to take him further into you. However, his hand quickly comes down on your hips, stopping all movement.

Leaning down to capture your lips in a feverish kiss, you gasp into his mouth as he thrusts into you with a great force. You cry his name as he bites down on your lower lip, the pace he sets brutal and exactly what you need. Each thrust rolls through your entire body, setting your nerves alight. When he gives a particularly hard thrust, your spine arches, hands slipping away from his back and coming to wrap around his wrists.

When he growls, you clench at the sound.

Your eyes flicker open in time to see his mouth gape and he groans when you do it again.

He answers your tightness with another roll of his hips, this time changing the angle just enough that it hits your g spot directly. You spasm around his cock, crying out as he continues to fuck you.

“You’ve ruined me,” Jimin gasps. “Nothing else, no one else is going to be like this. I wanna fuck this cunt until you can’t think of anything else.”

You start to respond, to tell him how much you want that, but his hand comes down on your clit, rubbing just gently enough that you’re yelping in a mixture of pleasure and overstimulation.

“I’m really gonna fuck you now, baby. I want you to touch yourself until you can’t anymore, okay?”

You nod, reaching down to your clit where your fingers brush against one another. You look down to see his cock rutting in and out of you, coated in your juices. As he withdraws his hand, he begins to pick up his speed.

The pace he sets reaches deep into your body, setting every nerve alight. You cling to him, begging him to fuck you harder. His cock seems to reach every single sensitive spot within you as rock your hips back up to his, meeting his every movement. He lets you now, lost in the feeling of your bodies moving together, seeking the same pleasure together.

When his pace begins to stutter, thrusts becoming long and rough, you know he’s close to his end.

“Baby, I’m going to come,” he groans. He begins to sit back up and withdraw, but you wrap a hand around his neck and pull him towards you, the other one coming to press on the dip of his hips.

“Come inside, Jimin.”

“But--”

“I’m safe. I want to feel you come inside me. Wanna come with you.”

He groans at your words and lowers himself to you, letting his hips grind against yours in a tide of sensation. Each movement pulls you closer and closer to your orgasm until three words are tumbling from his lips and you are tipping over the edge.

He kisses you as you both ride out your orgasm, waves of pleasure washing through your body and into his as if you are connected on more than just a physical level. His lips are soft against yours, guiding you through your orgasm. Everything is breathless and wildly full, all at once.

Pulling back as his cock twitches within you, he peppers your neck with kisses, his plush lips pressing softly against the delicate skin beneath your ear.

“I love you, baby,” he murmurs against your skin.

“I love you too,” you hum, eyes fluttering blissfully closed as you tangle a hand in his hair, pressing him closer to you.

That’s how you fall asleep. Tangled up in each other, bodies meshed together until there’s no way to tell which way is up.

You wake up wrapped in warmth. The kind of warmth that radiates from your heart, shining on outwards and into the room around you. And, as your eyes blink open, you notice it also radiates from the absolute furnace that clings to your back.

“Mmm,” the furnace grumbles, rubbing his nose against the soft nape of your neck. You can feel him press his lips against the top of your spine, his breath fanning delicately against your skin. “G’morning.”

“Morning.” You speak softly, as if any noise will break the memory of last night, his whispered affections against your skin as you drifted off to sleep still hanging in the air. Too loud and you will shatter and destroy the memory. The words of his confession still carved into your skin, your mixed pleasures riddled through your body, the song of his joy and laughter emblazoned into the room -- all of that, you think, will disappear if you move too quickly or speak too loudly.

However, that notion is quickly banished when Jimin rolls over and groans dramatically, spreading his limbs out until he starfishes over the entire bed -- including you. With a little grunt, he flips over on his belly, shimmying over to you. Pulling the blankets down around you, you gasp as the cool air hits your skin.

He’s quick to rectify this as he rolls onto you, resting his head on your stomach, blowing a raspberry into your skin. You screech in laughter and as the sensation rushes through you, tickling you.

It takes a minute or two before you calm down, looking lovingly down at the man who holds your heart and running a hand through his hair, brushing it off of his forehead.

“I love you, you know that?” he mumbles into your belly.

“Do you?” you giggle, doubt still riddled in your mind.

His eyes shoot up to yours.

“Of course I do. Is there any question about it?” You look down on him, worry in your gaze. “Oh, baby.” He’s quick to prop himself up on his hands, but still stays sprawled out atop you, his weight heavy and comforting. “I’ve loved you since I first saw you--” You open your mouth to tell him there’s no such thing as love at first sight, but his hand comes up quickly and covers your mouth, effectively shushing you. “--at least I knew I was going to love you the first time I saw you. I knew I was going to fall madly and deeply in love with all of your quirks and strange obsessions and deep passions and maddenly horrible humor. And I knew I loved you a year in, and every day after that.”

You look down on him, tears welling up in your eyes at his sincerity.

“Come ‘ere,” you say, pulling him up towards you. He crawls up your chest, playfully nipping at your bare breasts before settling against you. He kisses you. Lets you sink into the sensation. And then he pulls back and says,

“Aren’t you going to tell me you love me too?”

You don’t know if you’ll ever get enough of that dorky smile.

But you do know the tears threatening to spill over are rising from the deep, unnamable affection that rolls through your chest, finally released from silence. You want to call it love, and that is what you will call it, but there’s also something that goes so much deeper than the word itself. Something you know you will spend your whole life trying to explain to him.

read more: masterlist 

Taglist: @taestannie @thatlongspringnight @spicykoreantatertots​ @usuallynervoussheep​ @hesperantha​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​@lucedelsole97​ @heichooou​ @jiminskth​

[pinkteapotwriting]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a wolfstar x reader. Where they find out the reader has a daddy kink, but she’s too shy to tell them? Also Remus and Sirius are a little older than her so she was worried that they’d assume she was only in a relationship with them due to the kink? I love your writing ♥️

Wolfstar x Fem!reader

Warning : Daddy kink, pet names, super sub fem reader, slight degradation, cream pie, male and female receiving. So yeah porn with no plot enjoy

Word count : 2365

I worked really hard on this and I hope you like it darling <3

---

You had always been attracted to older men. You were more likely to develop a crush on a professor rather than one of the boys in your class. It’s just how it has always been, and that’s why you were so happy with your relationship with Remus and Sirius. They were your dream partners, and although you were young, it felt like you had waited forever for people as kind, attentive, and uhhh dedicated to your pleasure. Everything about them just screamed dominance, perfectly suited to your daddy kink.

That’s why it was so frustrating you couldn’t get rid of that fear. That fear that you could scare them away. Of course they cared about you, but Remus was especially adamant that he would never want to hold you back. You adored them, loved them with all your heart. Everything with them was so incredibly satisfying, but to be able to go that extra step into submissiveness, for them to take control the way you desired them to, would make everything that much better. You didn’t want to risk losing them, and even if you didn’t, it’s hard being vulnerable in that way. Taking that first step would be hard, but you knew you would want the same from them. Even though this was somewhat embarrassing. 

---

“Sirius you shouldn’t have, really you don’t have to spend money on me. What did you get anyway?”

“Don’t worry love, it’s more for my benefit than anything.”

“Remus, do you know what it is.”

“Apparently it will be better for me if I’m surprised just the same.”

Sirius handed you a small black bag, with pink tissue paper blocking the top, hindering you from peeking inside.

“Remus and I will meet you upstairs in the bed room, we’ll leave you to appreciate your gift.”

“Pads that’s weird.”

“Moony I promise you’ll appreciate it, trust me.” 

They parted from you, Sirius with a peck to the cheek, and Remus with a lingering forehead kiss. Once you heard them trudge up the stairs of Sirius’s childhood home, you peaked into the bag and raised your eyebrows at the white lace hidden inside.

More for his benefit huh?

---

“Sirius, Remus, I’m ready. Can I come in now?”

They both sat leaning against the headboard. Remus’s right arm across Sirius’s shoulders, playing with the ends of his hair absentmindedly. Sirius was absolutely giddy, so giddy in fact Remus answered for him.

“Come on in Love.”

The floral lace bra supported you in all the best ways, two little pink bows adorned where the straps and the cups met. The white thong hugged your hips, complimenting your thighs and waist. It also had one small pink bow centered in the front of the waistband. Angelic is the way Remus would describe you, while Sirius would describe you as sexy as fuck. Not quite as eloquent, but it gets the job done.

“Siri, you didn’t have to but-”

“But?”

“I feel pretty.”

“You’re much more than pretty Y/N” Remus scolded.

“Does this mean you’ll let me spoil you more often, don’t mind having a sugar daddy so much huh?”

Your face immediately fell as you contemplated the effects his words had on you. Not that you needed him to spend money on you, but the idea of being good for him, of him spoiling his perfect Y/N, Daddy’s girl,  had even more wetness pooling in between your legs. Sirius mistook it for concern though, not the combination of horniness and embarrassment that it was.

“Hey Y/N, I was just kidding, you know I love you right? You’re much more than this thing that we fuck. We want you safe, and we like getting you these things because it’s kind of fun spoiling you. I’d do it much more if you’d let me. And I’m sorry, I was just making a joke with the whole sugar daddy thing.

Remus zoned in on your thighs rubbing together at the word Daddy.

“Sirius wait, Y/N, is there something you’re not telling us?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Sirius joking about being a sugar daddy didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

He smirked as you rubbed your thighs together at the word daddy, pleased that his little test worked. Sirius seemed to be catching on too.

“You know Y/N, we’re not that much older than you. Didn’t cross my mind we’d fit into that category. 

“I don’t understand Sirius.”

“You know perfectly well what I mean. Why don’t you tell us what’s going on and maybe it’ll turn out the way you like.”

“Well…”

You could not make yourself look away from your hands; watching them fiddle around anxiously. Remus’s voice soothed you though.

“It’s alright sweetheart. We want you to feel safe and comfortable telling us anything.”

You took a deep breath.

“I was scared to tell you because I didn’t want you to think that I was in the relationship for this reason. I love you both so much and would hate to make you guys feel insecure about it. I kind of have a Daddy kink.”

Remus kept his poker face, but if you looked close enough there was a hint of a smirk there. Sirius had the biggest shit eating grin there ever was, because he knew he was going to be having the best sex of his life tonight.

Their silence terrified you.

“I’m so sorry, I really shouldn’t of said anyth-”

Remus held up a hand to halt your apology, then patted his thigh.

“Why don’t you come sit on Daddy’s lap, angel?”

A shot of pleasure went straight from your spine directly to your aching cunt. You didn’t even know how to respond. So you figured it was best to obey. You crawled up from the end of the bed and straddled his right thigh, the one that was closest to Sirius. Sirius reached for the waistband of your panties and tugged upwards so they could rubbed deliciously across your clit. Remus had to grip your hips and stop you from grinding.

“You know moony, I bought these because she’s supposed to be our innocent little Y/N. Had no idea she was so dirty. Kind of ironic isn’t it.”

“Oh totally and completely ironic. She may not be a pure as we thought, but she’s still a good girl. Isn’t that right Bunny? You like being a good girl for your Daddies.”

When you whimpered instead of answering Remus tightened his grip on your hips and started helping you grind up and down his thigh. Sirius smacked your ass, which had you jolt forward, colliding with Remus’s chest and burrowing your face in his neck.

“Answer his question pup.

“Yes, I like being good for my daddies.”

You whined when Remus halted your movements once again. He raised a questioning eyebrow which had you bite your tongue instantly. You had just said you wanted to be good for them. 

“Aw, I think our desperate baby wants to cum moony.”

“Looks like it. Do you want Siri to eat you out bunny? You want your daddy to make you cum?”

You turned to look at Sirius’s smug expression.

“Yes please, want it so bad.”

“We can tell.”

Sirius’s comment had your expression turning bashful again. He gripped your jaw between his thumb and forefingers before you could turn away though. 

“That doesn’t mean hide it. I like it when you’re openly needy for us. Makes me want to fuck you hard and satiate every little desire of yours. Now climb off Remus’s lap puppy. Gonna make you  cum on my face.” 

You were almost disappointed when he let go of your face, until you remembered what he was about to do. You all too happily turned around and wiggled in as you sat between Remus’s thighs. 

“Not like that pup, ass up for me okay? I think it’s only fair if you take care of Remus while I take care of you. Understand?”

“Yes Daddy.” you hesitated for a moment, confused by Remus still fully clothed. You wanted to see him. You traced the top of his pants lightly with your forefinger. 

“Daddy can I take these off?”

“Please do.”

He pulled off his shirt as you undid his belt buckle and he watched you kiss below his belly button, and lower and lower as you pulled his pants off. Once you had them halfway off Sirius pulled them the rest of the way. You rubbed his prominent bulge through and nuzzled your cheek against his thigh before pressing a kiss against his clothed dick. He laced his fingers through your hair and you would have leaned into the touch, but instead he pulled your head to make eye contact with him.

“No teasing puppy, get right down to it.”

“Sorry daddy.”

“It’s okay love.”

You pulled his cock out from his underwear and were thoroughly impressed by how hard it was considering you barely touched him. You spat onto your hand and jerked his cock for a few strokes, but not wanting to get reprimanded for teasing you licked from the base to the tip then let the head of his cock slip past your lips. That’s when Sirius quickly discarded your panties and slid underneath your parted legs. 

“So wet baby, is this all just from calling us Daddy hmm? Should have told us sooner.”

You continued to bob up and down on Remus’s cock, wanting to earn his satisfaction. Sirius licked a bold stripe across your pussy.

“Such a good girl, fuck.”

Then he properly dove in, flicking his tongue against your clit and teasing your entrance with his fingers.

“Fuck, thinks she likes that pads. You like it when Daddy eats you out?”

You let out a muffled mm hmm against his cock, the vibrations had him throwing his head back and groaning. Sirius didn’t want to waste time talking though, his mouth and now his fingers were occupied, thrusting in and out of your dripping cunt. Bringing you that much closer to your release, while you brought Remus to his. 

“Fuck bunny, m’gonna come down your pretty little throat shit-”

He was now prodding the back of your throat, and you were completely relaxed and taking him like a champ. You felt him twitch so you pulled off just a little bit as his seed painted the inside of your mouth. He stared with lust blown eyes as you showed him your now clean tongue. He cupped your cheek and stroked it with his thumb.

“So good for me baby, such a good girl. You wanna ride Sirius? I think you’re ready now.”

Sirius placed one last gentle kiss to your clit before parting from you and allowing you to shimmy down and straddle his lap.

“Sorry pup, know that feels good but I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

“S’okay daddy, whatever you want.”

“Mmm, that’s right baby. Why don’t you put it in now and bounce like a good bunny? You wanna be a good bunny?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“Wait.” Remus interjected.

He gripped your wrist before you could grab his dick.

“What?” Sirius sounded quite annoyed.

“Make her say it. I wanna hear her say it.”

“Well bunny, hop to it.”

Remus rolled his eyes at the pun but quickly fixed his eyes back on to you.

“Wanna, Wanna bounce on your cock daddy.”

“Like a what?”

You put your head down in embarrassment.

“Like a good bunny.”

Sirius gripped his cock, placed the tip in your entrance, and slammed up in one foul swoop. You clasped your hand over your mouth, maybe to keep some of the breath in your lungs or maybe because you didn’t want to moan so loud. You really weren’t sure. All you knew was that Sirius was going absolutely feral.

Remus moved behind you and unclasped your bra, finally freeing your boobs from their constraints. He grasped one with his left hand, while the other reached down to rub your clit.

“D-daddy, gonna cum. Can I cum?”

Remus rubbed your clit faster.

“Ask Siri love.”

“Sir, can I cum please.”

“No, Hold it.”

“But da-”

“Hold it.”

Remus was now kissing the expanse of your neck and shoulders, while rolling your nipple between his two fingers. Tears were rolling down your face at the effort it took in holding back your orgasm. All while Sirius was keeping a brutal steady pace from underneath.

“Daddy Please.”

“Go on them cum. Make a mess on my cock.”

You swear you lost your vision for a second. All the sensitivity, all of the built up pleasure finally erupted all at once and if Remus wasn’t holding you you would have collapsed. 

“Atta girl- Fuck”

You hissed in overstimulation as you felt his warmth spread and drip out of your cunt. Remus finally did let you collapse once Sirius had pulled out. 

“Alright love, lets get cleaned up.”

“I don’t think I can walk quite yet Remus.”

Sirius only smiled with a smugness that made Draco Malfoy look humble.

That stupid grin could always get you in trouble.

Especially now that he knows you have a daddy kink.

---

Bonus

The warm bath water soothed your aching muscles almost as much as Sirius scrubbing shampoo into your scalp did.

“Y/N..”

You peaked one eye open at the lanky man in front of you.

“Yes Remus?”

“So obviously Sirius and I have a daddy kink too. The funny thing is we didn’t want to tell you because we didn’t want you to think we were dating you for your age.”

“That is funny, wish one of us would of said something sooner.”

Sirius pecked your cheek.

“Me too love.”

“Besides, you two couldn’t get rid of me that easy. I kind of love you.”

“Only kind of?” Remus teased.

“Kind of love you sounded better than completely obsessed.”

“Well then,” Remus cupped both your cheeks “I kind of love you too.”

“Me too.” Sirius promised. 

The words were casual, but the tone was so intense. It reassured you that they wouldn’t be so easily scared off either.

And there were some things you had much more confidence to tell them now.

---

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @accioweaslcy @weasleyposts @bluemoonyblurbs @emmaev @side-blog-shit @agalandhermarvelobsession 

[harrywritingsbyme]

ok but what about harry being so big and ur a virgin (or haven’t been w anyone for a while) and he’s trying to get you as relaxed as possible so he can fit in but u guys keep trying and it just won’t fit bc ur rly tight. but harry isn’t giving up and he’s just being a sweetheart. but then he finally pushes in all the way for the first time and he’s super turned on by seeing his print thru ur stomach and becomes super cocky bc you take him so well and you’re his angel who now looks freshly fucked

The one Where Harry and Y/n Try to Make It Fit

A/N: All I have to say is that it’s filthy and it’s the second blurb for ‘A Series Of Firsts’ Enjoy 🙃

You haven’t been with anyone for a really long time. And it was for two reasons. The first being that you hadn’t been in a relationship where you really wanted to have sex, and the second being that you were fine taking care of yourself (and you would like to think that you were pretty good at it). You were perfectly fine up until now. And by now, you meant Harry.

From the time you met Harry to now being in a relationship together, it was like a switch went off inside of you. There was something about simply being in his presence that lit an insatiable fire inside of you. You couldn’t explain it, but even the slightest touch got your blood pumping. You two had been together for a little over six months at this point and you couldn’t go any longer without having Harry deep inside of you. Harry’s mouth and fingers always did wonders for you, better than you could have ever done for yourself. He always knew exactly what buttons to press and how to make you fall apart instantly for him. It didn’t matter if it was his tongue or fingers, Harry always made you cum hard. And as good as he never failed to make you feel, you wanted more. You wanted to be filled to the brim with his cock, and you wanted to feel his hips crashing down against yours as he pushes himself in and out of you. You knew exactly what you wanted and you didn’t know how long you could go without getting it.

This desperate need for Harry led you to the position you were in now. Lying naked beneath an also naked Harry. It was supposed to be a cozy and romantic night in for you two, but after a couple drinks and many kisses in between the two of you went from simply kissing to ripping each others clothes off. When you whispered to Harry that you wanted to have sex, things got even more heated. His mission to get you naked only intensified and his lips were pressed harder against yours. Once the sex part actually came though, the mood instantly changed. Harry’s movements became much less frenzied, and more languid and soft. There was no doubt that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. It was just that he wanted it to be a moment for the both of you, and your relationship as a whole. Even though neither of you were virgins, the both of you were strong in your feelings for each other and you wanted the first time you had sex together to be special. Another thing Harry made sure to take into account was the fact that you hadn’t had sex in a while and it’d take a little more adjusting than normal. So, Harry was going to take his time and make sure that you were comfortable above anything else.

“I just need y’to relax f’me baby” Harry coaxes. He knew that you were tight, but this was unbelievable. Every time he went to push into you, you always winced a little bit.

“I am, you’re just really big.” You point out. You took Harry in your mouth before, so you were well versed in how sizable Harry was. You had no idea how big he was when it came to other parts of your body though. Whenever he tried to push into you, it felt like he was piercing into you. You’d never taken anything or anyone that could compare to how big Harry was. “M’surprised you haven’t killed anyone with that thing.” you continue.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Harry chuckles before sitting back on his calves between your spread legs. “If y’want we can stop. Don’t wanna actually kill yeh.” Harry rakes his hand through his hair, pushing back the curls that were sticking to his forehead.

“No!” You sit up, resining back against your elbows. “If you don’t fit one more time then we can stop.” You bargain.

“Y/n, I don’t wanna force it. I don’t want you t’be-“ Before he can finish his statement, you reach forward towards him, and you grab his hand. You pull it towards your glistening center and you place it right on you.

“Please?” You pout, making sure to bat your eyes up at him. Harry doesn’t respond immediately. His eyes fall down towards where you placed his hand and he begins to move his hand against you. When he hears a small whimper leave your lips, he couldn’t stop his cock from twitching. “So is that a yes?” You ask him once more. Instead of responding, Harry lifts himself back up and brings himself back down towards you.

“Forget me killin’ you, y’gonna kill me first.” Harry mumbles under his breath. He wraps his hand around his cock, giving himself a few tugs. “Y’ready?” He asks, looking up to you for an answer. You nod your head before dropping it back down against the pillows. Harry gives you a final reassuring look before moving his eyes back down. He lines himself back up with your entrance and he takes a deep breath. “Relax f’me babe.” He instructs before slowly beginning to push into you.

“Oh my god!” You whimper out. You could feel him stretching you out completely. You felt so full from him simply pushing the head of his cock into you that you didn’t know how much more you could take. Once he’s all the way inside of you, Harry had to take a minuet. He couldn’t believe that you managed to take all of him inside of your tight hole. Just saying that you were tight would be a complete understatement. You were so tight that he felt like he could cum right then and there. As his eyes moved up your body back to yours, he immediately gets stopped in his tracks. He could clearly see his cock trough your lower stomach.

“Y’need t’feel this.” Harry groans. He reaches for your hand and he presses it down right agains the prominent bump in your lower stomach.

“Is that-“

“Mhm” Harry grumbles.

“That’s just-“ you couldn’t even make out anything else. The only words you were able to say were the ones telling Harry to fuck you. And when he did, it was better than any feeling either of you had ever felt.

Harry couldn’t believe how well you were taking him. Not to mention the fact that he couldn’t get over how undeniably pretty you looked beneath him. The sounds that were leaving your mouth were like music to his ears. Hearing you slur out how big and deep he was only fueled his fire. What made him even closer to to the edge was what you managed to get out through you moans and whimpers. The way Harry was taking care of you was beyond compare. He touched you softly as if you were made of porcelain. You loved the way he put your pleasure ahead of his own, but you wanted to see his rough side. You saw a little bit of it earlier, but you knew there was so much more. When you told him to go harder, his moments against you stopped and he looked you right in the eye. He could see from the look in your eyes that him slamming his cock into you was non-negotiable. Since you wanted this, he was going to make sure you got it. He pulls almost all the way out of you before crashing his hips back down against yours, sending a loud slapping sound throughout the room.

“Harry!” You cry out to him. You wanted to feel the slight sting of him pounding into you, shoving his cock deep inside of you over and over again. You could feel the prominent veins that were on his thick shaft gliding against your walls. You could also feel the swollen head of his cock, slamming into that special spot deep inside of you over and over again. The way harry was pounding into you exceeded any expectations you had going in. The way he swiftly slammed his cock into you over and over again was amazing. It was so amazing that you could feel your eyes beginning to water.

Right now, Harry’s head was spinning faster than he could even process it. You were making him feel things he’d never felt before. It was like your walls were begging him to keep on fucking into you. You were doing so well for him that he wanted to just stay inside of you forever. Harry was even starting to get a little bit lightheaded. He couldn’t hold himself up for that much longer, so he lays himself down against your body. As a result, your body is completely pinned down against the mattress and all you could do was take every last thrust he gave you. You wrap your legs loosely around his back to keep him tight against you and you dig your nails into his biceps. You could already feel him going deep in your stomach, him laying on you only made you feel it ten times as much. It also meant that Harry could feel it against him too. On top of that, he got to hear the way you were crying and panting out to him at how good he felt inside of you even better, and was like music to his ears. He knew that he wasn’t going to last that much longer, all he had to do now was focus on making you cum. He stays in this position for a little bit longer until he feels you beginning to clenching around him. He pulls himself up from your body and he brings a hand up to your chest, squeezing one of your breasts in his large hand.

“Look so beautiful with m’cock buried inside yeh.” Harry pants above you, continuing to shove his cock into your tight cunt. “Where do y’want m’cum angel?” He asks, feeling his release quickly creeping up to him.

“Inside” you slur out to him.

“Fuck” he whispers. You’ve been blowing his mind the entire night. The fact that you wanted him to cum inside of you too, painting your walls white with his cum was just the icing on top of the cake. “m’gonna need yeh t’cum with me then” Harry demands, slowing down his hips.

“M’so close” you whimper.

“Y’can do it angel, just let go f’me” Harry coos. When your cries get louder and shakier, he knows that you’re about to cum. Your thighs begin to quiver below him and you could feel the tight knot in our stomach beginning to unravel. “Look a’me angel. Let me see those pretty eyes” he softly coos to you. You slowly but surely open your eyes for him and he can see the tears from pleasure pooling at the outer corners of your eyes. He pushes his hips up against yours, keeping his cock deep inside of you. When he does this, you completely let go around him. You let out the loudest cry you’ve made all night as you cum around him. The tears run down the side of your face and you stare into Harry’s eyes as you cum around his cock.

Feeling your already extremely tight walls contracting around his cock made Harry cum too. You feel a warm rope of his cum pour into the deepest part of you. Once the both of you are done, Harry begins to pull out of you.

“Squeeze my hand baby, it might sting a little.” Harry warns, intertwining his fingers with yours. And he was right. He made sure to go extra slow, giving you small reassurances along the way. Once he’s fully out of you, Harry couldn’t help but sit back and stare. He couldn’t believe how pretty you looked right after being fucked. You skin had a light veil of sweat and your body was almost, if not completely limp. When he looks down to your pussy, he can see his cum dripping out of you and right onto the sheets. The way your stomach was contracting as you were trying to catch your breath, reminded him of how his cock went all the way up there. Subconsciously, Harry’s hand reaches out towards the area, and the palm of his hand presses into the area. He realizes what he’s doing when you place your hand onto of his.

“You were so deep.” You slur out to him. You have a blissful smile painted across your face at the thought.

“ And being the pretty little angel you are, you took it all so well.” He praises.

“Mhm, just for you” you sigh. Harry then brings his face down to yours and slots his lips against yours, lazily kissing you. “Y’ready f’me to clean yeh up?” He mumbles against your lips. You send him a small nod and he gets up off of the bed to take you to the bathroom.

When you sit up, you see him standing next to the bed, looking over your body once more. When you give him puzzled look, he explains exactly why he’s looking at you this way.

“S’just that you’re my sweet angel, and y’look so pretty when you’re freshly fucked.” Harry explains.

Masterlist

[messymessyml]

Breaking and Entering

I'll be moving this one over to AO3 at some point (done, available here), but I'll start this off on Tumblr. This is a lighthearted, multi-chapter Jasonette story.

Summary:

Marinette is away from home when a curious visitor drops in. The kwami don't see any problem letting the man in; the question is: what will the guardian think when she realizes an intruder was in her house while she was gone?

Chapter 1 is below the cut.

Chapter 1: What did I come back to now?

Marinette felt a wave of relief hit her as her key turned smoothly in the lock. She was more than ready to unload her bags and take a well-deserved night in after a whirlwind week of consulting with clients in Metropolis. She’d decided to take Tikki and Sass with her and rent a hotel for the week as most of her clients were only available for early morning consultations, and while it was the most effective way to make sure she didn’t miss a meeting, she was glad to be back home.

Gotham may not be as glitzy or have as many potential clients as Metropolis, but it more than made up for that with the anonymity that Gotham allowed her. The local mentality of ‘take no shit’ and ‘mind your own damn business and I’ll mind mine’ allowed the kwami and her freedom that they wouldn’t get in Metropolis, a city crawling with news stations and a baffling love of all things mundane. Half the time when she visited Metropolis it felt like she had a target on her back; the paparazzi were worse in Metropolis than they ever were in her Parisian hero days and that held for her professional pseudonym as well as plain Marinette. It was a wonder that with so many news outlets (and Superman to report on for crying out loud) that she was still the topic of a news piece twice in the past week: once as MDC and once as plain old Marinette. In all seriousness was helping with a local tree planting event for Earth Day that newsworthy?

‘Enough of that’, she thought, realizing that although her door was now unlocked, she’d thought so much about arriving home that she hadn’t even fully opened her door. A slight twinge of embarrassment hit her. Carrying her tiny friends everywhere was always a blessing, but sometimes, she mused, it might be nice not to have an audience for every action she took—no matter how embarrassing.

Letting go of that train of thought, Marinette stepped through and closed her door behind her, feeling tension bleed out of her shoulders. The underlying scent of vanilla and blossom honey hit her nose as she strode over to the kitchen island. She set her bags to the side and took a hold of one of her swinging barstools with the intention to sit for a bit before making any attempt at dinner for the kwami and herself. Absently tracking the path Sass and Tikki took as they flew in the direction of the room where she kept the Miracle Box, she hesitated to sit as she noticed a slowly building feeling of unease hit her. Something, she thought, was off.

Sharpening her gaze and gripping the barstool a little tighter, Marinette scanned her apartment. At first glance, the living space looked unchanged from how she left it; the furniture was where it belonged, and her shelves and wall art were unmoved. As she looked closer though, she saw items around the house that were shifted a bit more than they would be if the kwami had decided to explore while she was away: the living room rug was centered, the dishes she had left to dry right before leaving the house a week ago were put away, and the barstool she was currently grasping was a bit more level than it had ever been, thrifted as it were. The kwami were a joy to interact with and an honor to serve as their guardian, but cleaners and tinkers they were not.

Marinette released her grip on the stool, rounding the kitchen island to open the cabinets. Like she thought, the dishes she had washed a week ago were put away and the towers of plates and bowls looked straighter than they were normally. Her gut churned as the beginning stages of worry started to fill her.

A chorus of greetings from behind her met her ears, disrupting her thoughts. Turning, Marinette saw the kwami flying towards her from the hallway.

“Marinette, did you have a nice trip?” Mullo squeaked.

“Guardian, I hope all went well on your trip. It is wonderful to have you back home.” Wayzz said.

The other kwami threw in their own noises and words of agreement, mirroring Wayzz’s welcome.

Marinette couldn’t help her small smile, replying, “My trip went well, and I am happy to be back here with you all.” She paused, hesitating before she asked, “Did anything happen while we were away?”

“Not much, Pigtails.” Plagg swam leisurely into view, tailed closely by Tikki, both twirling as they approached. “Some fighting outside, and a bit of a showdown on rooftops at the end of the block, but no damage to our building.”

Wayzz intercepted Plagg’s path, floating into the center of her vision to say, “That may be true, Plagg; however, one of the combatants took a breather on our balcony by using the garden for cover. He didn’t seem injured, but he was breathing heavier than was wise. Most of us hid in the box while I continued to strengthen the wards on the outer walls and windows.”

Marinette interrupted, “No one entered the apartment?”

Wayzz hesitated, then said “The man stayed hidden as best he could, but he was quite large, and I could feel the shifting balance; if he stayed on the balcony, he would have drawn fire here. I strengthened the barrier outwards then loosened the barrier on the balcony doors, undid the latch for him, and asked Trixx to hide us from view. He had a protector’s spirit and none of us could feel an intent to harm any but the ones he’d been fighting outside. I am sorry, Guardian, for making this decision without your input.”

Marinette took a deep breath to fend off the impending tension headache, unclenching the hand she had used to subconsciously gripped her other wrist. She loosened the muscles around her eyes to soften her gaze. “It’s alright, Wayzz. I wasn’t there, and I trust your intuition. What did he do?”

“He seemed distrustful of the open door at first but ended up entering almost silently and quickly moved to scan the apartment.”

Trixx added, “I made sure he could not see the Miracle Box and that he was not visible from the outside at any point, but he stayed away from the windows for the most part.”

Roarr piped in, “He has a fierce spirit, and I agree with Wayzz that he has a strong protective streak.”

She heard some murmurs of agreement from the other kwami, some of them breaking out into small discussion pertaining to the man’s character. “If so many of you saw him, did you leave the Miracle Box then? What did you see?” Desperately, Marinette wished that the immortal beings she called friends could get to the points.

“Some of us came out to see, but most of us stayed in the box. Trixx’s illusions held; he didn’t see or hear any of us.” Barkk confirmed.

“Yes, he mostly stayed in the living room. He sat right here for a while!” Saying this, Pollen surged towards the end of the couch, landing with their back to the armrest in a bored sprawl. “Like this!”

Plagg, swaying upside down near the ceiling, lazily added, “He wasn’t much fun. All he did was check his guns then started cleaning the place. Boring.”

“Guns?! Cleaning? Why?” Alarmed, Marinette’s heartbeat started to pound at the picture painted by the kwami. They had let a large combatant enter her apartment and all he did was inspect his guns and clean??? ‘This can’t be real’, she thought. ‘Was I caught up in one of Scarecrow’s attacks on the way home?’

“He had good manners at the least.” Kaalki sniffed. “His gear smelled of money and he fixed that stool of yours that never would have entered the premises if you had listened to me from the start. At least now it isn’t horrendously squeaky.”

“Hey!” Mullo protested.

Kaalki just turned away.

“He needed the protection.” Wayzz apologetically said. “He didn’t seem interested in your workroom and he wouldn’t have been able to find the box, so we observed. He cleaned a bit and left after checking that the coast was clear outside.”

Marinette allowed her shoulders to sag. “Alright. If you’re sure.” Glancing around, she gave the kwami a smile, eyes hesitating on the glass doors leading to the balcony, she absently added, “Thank you for keeping an eye on things while I was gone.”

Striding over to the doors leading out to the balcony, she peered out. Nothing seemed out of place out here, but she couldn’t be certain. Checking the door handles, she noticed that one of the kwami or her mystery visitor must have relatched the lock. Unlocking it, she stepped out and went to sit at her patio table. Leaning back in her chair, she let her head tip back to view the sunset, partially obscured by the balcony two floors above her own. Her apartment building had mostly staggered the balconies to allow more light to reach its inhabitants, a must in Gotham’s dreary weather.

After a few moments, she let her head droop forward to land in her hands. As much as she loved them, the kwami’s survival instincts always seemed at odds with hers. She couldn’t tell whether that was due to her anxiety amplifying everything past the point of reason or that the kwami’s inherent existence rendering most danger obsolete, but while some intruder might not be a danger to beings that could turn intangible and invisible at will, she was definitely a bit more breakable (‘Mortal’, her brain whispered) than them. If she had been here? Who knows how that visit might have gone?

Taking a few more minutes to calm her body’s response, a few deep breaths, and a moment or two of gratitude that nothing bad had happened, she straightened a bit as the evening wind started to pick up and a splash of white started to flutter at the edge of her vision. Glancing up, her eye caught on a piece of paper at the other end of the table that was weighted down with a rock she had decorated a while back with paintings of ladybugs and cats playfully chasing each other across a meadow. That particular rock usually spent time in the catnip bed Plagg had insisted on and Tikki had seconded as a nod to both kwami. Curious, she reached out and grabbed the sheet of paper underneath. Opening it, she read:

Dear Stranger,

I was in a bit of a tight spot and hanging around your balcony when your door swung open. Haunted house, much? Hope you don’t mind, but I ended up using your house as a temporary safe house while you were gone. Don’t worry, I made sure no one saw me entering or exiting, so you shouldn’t have any problems from the type of shit that follows me.

On the topic of haunted houses, are you sure yours isn’t haunted? Your house is unnervingly the calmest- and safest-feeling place I’ve been in a while, but I kept seeing blurs out of the corner of my eye and I was NOT concussed. Might want to talk to someone about that.

I ended up tidying a bit while you were gone, hope you don’t mind. Fairs fair, you (unknowingly, I know) lent me a place to stay, I tidied up a bit. Stay out of trouble, alright?

Cheers,

- Red Hood

The Red Hood? The RED HOOD is who they let into the house? For kwami’s sake, what were they thinking?!?

[xhisokas-harleyx]

Helloo! I don't know if i can just request something, if requests are close or something please just ignore it sorry qwq

What do you think Hisoka's reaction would be if he saw Reader in yk,,,, maid outfit or "cat" outfit idk what they called. Like ears+tails. Who knows why, maybe they just wanted have fun and dear someone never knocks 🙄 ilovethismfsomuchistg- Anyways, wishing you a good day or night! 💛

Thanks so much for your request, sorry it took so long. I hope you still find this!

(hope you don’t mind that I sort of ran with this one!)

Warnings: sensuality themes, absolute PAMPERING of your man Hisoka. I mean, serious spoiling kink. Body worship

Enjoy 😊

Hisoka x Reader: Kitten

word count: 2700

Well… you were a sight, that much was certain.

Your eyes danced over your form as you twirled in the bathroom mirror, appreciating your bare thighs in the short kitty dress you were wearing. Your black tail swayed along with your hips, your lace gloved hands placing the kitty-eared headband atop your crown. Your bust was showing through the skimpy black material, and the size of it barely allowed your rump to be covered with a thin ruffly layer of fabric. It was promiscuous and you weren’t sure it was your style… but if Hisoka picked it out for you, you were open to the idea.

Well, technically you’d stolen this item from him, but something told you he wasn’t going to mind.

As you’d been cleaning your and Hisoka’s shared apartment earlier that day, you had unassumingly stumbled upon one of Hisoka’s hidden treasures when you were dusting under the bed. There, beneath the box-spring, you’d discovered a white container which looked as if it hadn’t been touched. Normally you’d never go snooping around in Hisoka’s stuff (not that he had a lot of stuff to snoop in anyway), but because you hadn’t seen it before, curiosity had gotten the better of you.

When you opened the box to reveal the cat maid outfit, your jaw dropped, your mind baffled and scrambling for an explanation. However, it was obvious, right? It was for you, who else would it be for? It made sense- one of his favorite things to call you was kitten… you could hear his lusty voice coo it in your mind even now. But you had no idea he could take things so literally!

You’d been wanting to spoil Hisoka for a while now. He’d been coming back hurt and exhausted from his strenuous missions with Illumi, and although you could tell he wanted to spend time with you, he was always being whisked away to fight his next foe. Many times, he didn’t even get to sleep before the next mission called him. Your little discovery had given you an idea, and currently you were planning it carefully in your head. You figured you had at least a few hours before he-

“So, you found your birthday present.” Hisoka’s voice startled you, and you wheeled around, amazed at how silent he could be stalking up behind you like that. Your face turned bright red- whatever chance you had to back out before was gone now. You took in the tattered appearance of your boyfriend, complete with blood on his face.

“MY birthday present?” You asked, placing a hand on your hip sassily, and cocking your body to the side. Hisoka loved your normal fiery attitude, which could go toe to toe with his own sarcastic and sharp tongue. He knew you still had a soft side, that desire to be sweet to him, but with how far apart you’d been recently, he hadn’t seen it in a long time.

Hisoka chuckled as he captured you in the cage of his arms, his nose burying in the crook of your neck and breathing in your intoxicating scent.

“Fine, you got me… it’s really MY present.” Hisoka smirked against your neck, already parting his lips to nibble leisurely on your exposed skin. Even in his words and his voice, though they were passionate and fervent, you could sense his exhaustion. The cuts that littered his exposed arms worried you, and in a moment, you drew back, looking up into his golden gaze. Bags were beginning to form under his eyes, and although they held a hungry gleam, you could tell he was close to collapsing.

The sight of you in this outfit, however, had him teeming with excitement despite his need for rejuvenation.

“How many times have I told you not to rummage through my things, y/n? Tsk, Tsk.” Hisoka grinned widely, his own catty eyes monitoring your body hungrily. He dearly appreciated your bust peeking through the fabric, your perfectly shaped thighs accentuated by the half white laced stockings, and the collar around your neck with a small bell that showed how possessive he was of you. If you’d paid even the slightest bit of attention when putting it on, you’d have noticed your name engraved on the metal tag. Of course, it was his plan all along for you to find this little secret, and you could sense that he was trying to be his normal difficult self in denying that fact.

“How many times have a told you not to hide things from me?” You fired back, causing him to withdraw and place a spread hand over his chest.

“Ouch. It seems you’re really in character tonight, kitten.”

His use of the nickname made your blood boil, and your aura pique a little at his purposeful insult of your methods. You wondered what his undercut insult truly meant to call you, but you allowed it to slide. For as much as he could be insufferable, you still had a deep desire to please your lover.

“And…” He just had to continue, his words grating on your nerves just as he wanted. “…since you’re already dressed the part, why don’t you get to cleaning?”

You felt enraged at his comment, for a moment letting your anger get the better of you and distract you from your goal. “I-I’ve been slaving over this house all day, what is there left to clean?!” As soon as the words left your lips, however, you realized you ‘d played right into his trap.

Hisoka’s thin eyebrow kicked as if he was surprised that you don’t know... but as soon as you saw his expression, you got the idea.

“Me, of course,” He reiterated anyway, a sly grin painting his features.

Little did he know, you already had quite the plan in mind for him- and it was something not even he had anticipated.

~~~~~~~~~

After promptly shoving him from the bathroom, you began to set up. You’d requested that he give you ten minutes to set up for him, but knowing how impatient the bastard could be, you swiftly tried to get it done in five. Lit candles were scattered throughout the bathroom, the tub in the center of the room being filled with hot water, almost scalding, just how you knew he liked it. Evening light filtered through the sole window in the room, painting the water and floor tiles with an orange cast. You scattered some bath salts into the water, as well as some cotton candy scented bubble solution, which you knew he loved.

That’s when he came barging through the door, smirk on his face, without so much as asking for your permission. You half expected him to be naked, but he still wore his tattered clothes, and you figured he was just that tired. But as he took in the surroundings before him, his eyes widened, and he seemed surprised that you’d been able to do so much in such a small amount of time.

“…” He didn’t say anything, and you quickly assumed your role in his relaxation before he got the chance to question your motives.

“All for you, Hisoka, my darling.” You threw in a small bow, playing the part of a maid just as you’d practiced in your mind. “I hope that everything is to your liking, my king.”

That nickname made him realize how touch-starved he felt in that moment, but he swallowed the urge to foil your little game so quickly.

Seeming to realize he was visibly gawking, Hisoka closed his mouth and smirked, sauntering forward and reaching for the hem of his shirt to peel it off. Though he couldn’t bring himself to say so outwardly, he was very taken aback that, contrasting with your earlier fire, you’d gone to this much trouble on his behalf. Part of him wanted to patronize you and make you angry, but the other wanted to see when this attitude was taking him.

“Let me help you with that.” You floated forward, dropping your voice an octave to reflect the sensual atmosphere you were painting with your environment. Your hands moved expertly to the bottom of his skintight purple undershirt, where your nimble fingers ghosted just under the fabric, grazing the V-line of his pelvis as you began to slowly remove his shirt.

Hisoka allowed you to do so, but he seemed dazed by how angelic and feathery your touch could be. The skin of his chest burned with passion as you pulled his shirt above his head for him, fingertips grazing tepidly over each muscle as you discarded it to the side. The care you touched him with was something he was unaccustomed to- typically when you touched him, you made it clear exactly what you wanted from him. His gaze was intent on your face, and while you could feel him staring, you paid no mind to it and moved onto his pants.

You coyly shimmied the elastic waistband carefully over his hips, ensuring that the magician would be mesmerized by your slight of hand illusions and the ability to make his worries disappear. It was as if you were the only thing grounding him at this moment, as his breathing picked up.

"There...” You dropped to the ground submissively as you beckoned him to step out of his bloodstained trousers, and along with them you trashed his underwear to the side. You ignored his obvious excitement as you reached up again to touch his thighs.

Hisoka’s breath hitched in his throat as your gloved hands traced the detailed lines of his muscular legs, praising and appreciating every mark and every muscle, your eyes remaining in sharp contact with his all the while. You were numb with appreciation at this point, and you let it show in your every motion.

“Look at you… you are so perfect.” You purred up at him, pushing past the moan he accidentally let slip. “Your body is so gorgeous. Every muscle, every mark, every feature is something that should be admired.”

His mind was a wasteland, driven by his willingness to let you talk him up, edge him closer to snapping just with your words. He had a shameless kink to withhold his own pleasure until his very breaking point, and you were unknowingly expertly fulfilling that desire.

~Oh, don’t look at me like that, y/n… you know I just can’t contain it…~

Hisoka’s body truly was like a finely chiseled sculpture, and it made you so pleased to worship him as you felt he deserved. Even if he felt like he needed to cover his imperfections with Texture Surprise, you always had a way of letting him know you appreciated his scars and flaws. Positive affirmations hadn’t been a part of the magician’s life before you came along, but this was on an entirely new level, it was delicacy, fragility, like he couldn’t comprehend.

“Now, if you’ll just step to the tub.” Hisoka did as you asked, his hand moving into yours, and you helped your man step into the scalding water, watching as he sank down into the tub, coloring the water pink with residual blood.

“Well, Well.” Hisoka snickered as he fully relaxed in the tub, and it seemed he’d gotten his spunk back. “What’s gotten into you, y/n? What game are you playing with me, hmm, kitten? You’re not usually this... eager to please me.” His voice was like honey, his eyes closing as he began to soak. You kneeled, and took your position just behind him, sitting on the floor where you could easily access his body from outside the tub.

Your small, heated laugh sent chills up his spine, because you sent it right into his ear, as your now bare hands began to trace his chest. “And why shouldn’t I be? You are THE Hisoka Morrow. You are the most powerful man around… you deserve this.” You got some soap in your hands, beginning to wash the dirt and dried blood away from his body in circular motions. You did mean your words- while you two loved to play fight, you did have a deep, almost obsessive adoration for Hisoka, and knowing that you could serve him like this was a major turn on.

Hisoka shuddered when your compliments continued into his ear, your teeth grazing up his neck, and to his earlobe, where you nibbled lightly. His body was submitting to your touch, his tense nature flowing out of him as you placed him under your spell.

“You’re so good to me… I’m so lucky to have a guy like you.”

You were being so submissive and serving that Hisoka thought you might have been under some mind control or something. This was like a fantasy come true for the magician- of course he feels like he deserves this kind of treatment from you. He ate up your compliments, they made his ego (and something below the water) grow to painful size. What you were saying was all true, of course. He is the great Hisoka Morrow, and you belong to him. Why shouldn’t you worship him like a God?

But as it played out before him, your reverse psychology got the better of him- and Hisoka ended up being the one questioning his worthiness. He expected you to get mad and retort at him, but you were dedicated to showing him how you truly felt.

He had the tendency to be so brash- sometimes he came home and ravaged your body before even saying hello- that was how strong his hunger was for you. But tonight, you had the ability to read the situation, and knew this care, this pampering, was exactly what he needed to recover.

“Let’s get that face, hm?” You nearly moaned, scooping some makeup remover into your palm and beginning to massage the faded paint from his soft, pale cheeks. Your hands moved back toward his hair, fingertips spreading over his scalp as you massaged. But this seemed to be the final straw for Hisoka, because he startled you by grabbing your wrist with such force that you thought he might snap it. You yelped helplessly as his golden eyes flew open and looked into yours directly, as if he were feasting on your soul. You could feel the weight of his aura rising, your sensual touch becoming too much for him to handle.

You knew that look; you’d seen it countless times before. His honeyed irises reflected a deep lust, accentuated by the offset of his tongue on his bottom lip. Your normal reaction would have been to struggle against him- but you submitted to his will, letting Hisoka’s hand pull yours back to his chest… and then lower.

All was silent as you allowed him to force your wrist below the waterline- and you tried to hide your panic when you realized where the magician was leading your hand. His traced his own V-line with your splayed fingertips, as if teasing himself just along the edges of the pleasure he so desired.

“Hisoka- you’re not being any fun.” You stopped him finally, your orbs reflecting a sense of disappointment, when he let go of your hand reluctantly, but not your gaze. He knew you’d truthfully be more than happy to oblige him- he made sure to guide you toward his end goal.

“You’ve had your fun… and now, I want to have you. This was always the outcome, y/n.” He droned dangerously, relaxing into the tub for a moment longer before he sat up, bringing himself to a standing position once again.

His words broke your resolve into shards, and a small moan escaped your plump lips as your tongue grazed across them. He stood up, confidently putting his manhood at your eye level, droplets of water cascading down his glowing body that was bathed liberally in the setting sunlight.

“I believe it’s your turn to get cleaned, kitten… But let’s get dirty, first.” With that, he snickered evilly, and pulled you into the tub, eager to put your newfound submissiveness to the test.

~FIN~

I likeddd this one :3

Hope you enjoyed, please feel free to leave a comment!

[bl--ankhaeji]

Bed of Roses

Pairing~ Emperor!Taeyong x CivilianPharmacist!Reader

Genre~ fluff,, angst,, empireau

Warnings~ smut..like three different scenes,,fem!recieving oral,,handjob,,switch?Tae/Reader,,Talks of war,,mentions/slight descriptions of death,,mentions/descriptions of extreme illness,,Taeyong has PTSD and nightmares,,mentions of blood,,Taeyong has insecurites,,mentions of rotting flesh

A.N~ This is my fic for the taeyong gallery collab hosted by @alreadyblondenow   I am releasing two days later than planned I am sorry for that. This fic is based off of the painting The Kiss by Gustave Klimt. Also big thanks to my mutual/beta reader, Xiami, @kjmsupremacist​ and the mutual who made this beautiful banner for me, Mylin, @suh-insane​ This is my longest fic so far I hope you all enjoy 😊 Oh and before I forget there is a whole like sort of surgery scene in here PSA I am no doctor, I know nothing substantial about medicine or medicinal practices. I got the inspiration for that scene from a drama so...(props if you can guess which one it is)

W. Count~ 12.5k 

The screams of thousands ringing in the air is deafening. Buildings are burning to the ground from a ravenous blaze. A vibrant haze of orange and red covers every single object in sight. No matter where he looks there is someone crying; hell, even the sky seems to be crying tonight. Taeyong’s legs give out from under him, bringing the once-strong prince to his knees as his head drops, hanging lowly in shame. How had he let it get this far? What happened to his beautiful peaceful empire full of its joyous people?

War. That’s what happened. His father had gotten power hungry and bloodthirsty, a terrifying duo. He remembers sitting in the royal meetings listening to the decisions his father would make, hating every single one but not having the authority let alone the guts to stand up to him. Hurried footsteps bring the prince out of his memories as a peasant girl, barefoot and in a tattered dress, appears in front of him.

“Prince Taeyong!” she cries, tears rushing down her face as if trying to see who will beat the other to the ground first. The prince's head snaps up at her cries, looking intently at her face. Her once-beautiful features are now horribly damaged and scarred from what looks like a massive burn. The girl opens her mouth, words making their way out until they stop suddenly and are replaced with a blood-curdling scream. 

It’s then that Taeyong notices the spear cutting through her flesh, beginning to protrude through her midriff before it retrieds back through her body. The girl’s now-limp body falls in a heap in front of the prince, her blood flowing rapidly out of the deep gash. In her place stands an enemy soldier. The soldier raises his sword and the two men quickly commence into a brief battle. Taeyong quickly overtakes the soldier, tearing him down almost effortlessly. 

The tired male stands tall, chest heaving, almost completely covered in blood before he rushes back to the girl, cradling her in his arms, even though his subconscious already knows it’s too late. “M-miss, oh my god miss, p-please please wake up,” he stutters frantically, lightly tapping her face. “MEDIC!! HELP SOMEONE!” he screeches so loudly it feels as if it’s ripping his throat. 

Countless people have died in front of him this whole time. Countless bodies lay around him–men, women, and children alike. Yet he’s hellbent on trying to yell for a medic that he knows isn’t there to help this one girl. Suddenly, he sees the girl's eyes flutter open. “My prince,” her voice barely whispers, her shaking hands reaching up slowly to softly cradle the prince’s tear streaked face. Suddenly the strength returns to her body, her hands, once gentle, now harshly gripping the side’s of Taeyong's face, nails causing what feels like permanent moon shaped indentures on his face. “YOU!” she spits. 

Her eyes, once gentle and kind, tainted with fear, now hold an anger and bloodlust so intense it is almost suffocating. “You’re the reason I’m like this! You and the royal family caused this-this WAR. And for what reason, huh? Thousands of lives lost; all of my friends and family are now dead because of you. I’M EVEN DEAD NOW BECAUSE OF YOU!!” Her hands now tightly grip his neck. “If I have to die by your hands then you have to die by mine. You made this bed of thorns, now lay in it. DIE!” 

“AHHHHHH!” An ear piercing cry leaves the man's lips as he now sits up in his bed scrambling to the headboard as if trying to get away. His clothes and bedding are drenched in sweat. His personal guard, Doyoung, rushes into the room, thinking there was a possible intruder from the emperor's cries. Even though this was far from the first time the emperor was plagued by night terrors, he could never be too certain.

“Your Highness, Your Highness please. Taeyong! Snap out of it; you’ll wake the entire empire, sir please.” Doyoung pleaded with the now sobbing man. “Your Highness, it’s okay it was just a dream, none of it is real.” The guard's large hand lands on the emperor’s back as he rubs soothing circles in hopes of calming the almost hysterical man. 

The dream may not have been real but his pain was, the war was real. His sobs are deafening. 

His people, his country. He failed them; he’s still failing them.

~

The once-cowering man now stands tall with an aura of elegance and power radiating off of him. After Doyoung’s fruitless attempts at trying to talk Taeyong into getting some help for his recurring nightmares, the emperor was due down in Neo City, sometimes referred to as N-City, the capital of the Neo Empire. At least once a month Taeyong comes down from the castle placed in the heart of Neo City and walks around greeting and getting to know the citizens of the city. Taeyong has always been very passionate about knowing the people under him and knowing how they live. He never wants to be an emperor that lets his people suffer while he lives extravagantly in the castle. 

He figures that’s the least he can do after failing them once already. 

He shrugs on his royal cloak even though he and everyone else knows that it’ll come off in no time once he joins the people. Taking a seat in the carriage across from Doyoung, Taeyong is handed his crown.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuck fuck fuck. That’s all that you can think of as you race to make it on time. You’re so fucking late; how could you have let it slip your mind? The emperor always comes down around this time and you’re usually always in your spot on time, but you woke up late this morning after pulling an all-nighter preparing medicinal herbs for the elderly people down your street. 

Your rucksack flops lifelessly beside your hip as you finally come to a stop, managing to make it to the spot in the nick of time. You had to deliver the herbs this morning and it almost cost you to miss seeing the emperor. Ever since Taeyong had taken over as emperor and started making his monthly visits, you always made sure you were there to be able to see him. You had a special spot you always occupied. It was the perfect spot where you could see him but not be front and center so that he could see you. 

Indiscernible chatter and yelps of delight grow louder and more constant. The second you turn your head, an unmistakable crown floats atop the heads of an ample number of people. At that same moment you hear the emperor's joyous laugh, the beautiful sound bringing an uncontrollable smile to your lips. The crowd of people slowly thins out, finally allowing you to catch a glimpse of the handsome man, and you can’t help but to be taken aback by his beauty even though this is far from your first time seeing him. The first thing you look at are his eyes. Despite his entire demeanor radiating a bubbly happiness, you can see the truth in his eyes. 

Taking in the appearance of the royalty, you notice the dirty cuffs on his white button up that sit rolled up on his forearms. Ahhh he must’ve been helping Mr. Young plant vegetables again. Your mind conjures an image of the older male who has the gall to make even the emperor plant vegetables for him and  a small chuckle falls from your lips. Making your gaze up to his head, you take in the royal crown. You always wonder how the crown manages to stay rooted on his head despite sitting on it lopsided 90% of the time. A crooked smile that shines brighter than the sun graces the emperor's features and you suddenly feel your cheeks warm like a furnace. 

Too caught up in your trance, you don’t feel the person bump into you until you’re already on the ground. The silence that greets you rings heavy in the air and isn’t broken until you hear a gasp, while at the same time feeling warm, nimble fingers wrap around your arm, gently lifting you from the ground. “Are you okay?” an male voice rumbles, a voice you’re no stranger to, a voice you were just delighted to hear mere seconds ago. 

“I uh I-I ah-h y-y-yes-,” you stutter, struggling to form coherent words once you realize that the emperor has helped you up from the ground. 

The emperor helped you up.

The emperor has his hand wrapped around your arm.

The emperor saw your fall... Dear God THE EMPEROR SAW YOUR FALL!

“I-I uhh YES-yes, I am fine,” you rush out, keeping your head down, refusing to meet the eyes of Emperor Taeyong, terrified of the judgement that might lie in them at your embarrassing fall. You quickly release yourself of his hold, scurrying away before he or anyone else can get a glimpse of your face. With your heart pounding in your ears and tears pricking your eyes you run back to your house as fast as you can manage, cutting your time to see the emperor extremely short. Hey, at least you have more time to prepare; you’re going to make things a little bit different today. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your Highness.” Doyoung’s curt voice takes Taeyong’s attention away from the retreating back of the girl he just helped off of the ground mere seconds ago. 

“Wha-–ah yes! Let’s keep moving, shall we?”  

The sound of the horses' feet clacking against the stone ground echoes throughout the carriage. “Doyoung,” the emperor starts, looking almost wistfully out of the window. “Do you think that girl from earlier is okay?” 

“I would assume so, seeing as how she had no trouble when running away as if she had just robbed a bakery,” he replied with a slight tilt in his voice.

“She did run away quite enthusiastically, didn’t she?” Taeyong can’t help the small grin that overtook his face at the memory of the girl. It was rather funny seeing her scramble away as if she had just committed a crime. 

“Your Highness, we have arrived.” The coachman speaks from the outside of the carriage as it slows to a stop. 

Despite the limited space, Taeyong stands, shouldering the heavy royal robe. The door to the carriage is opened by one of the royal guards, who proceeds to escort Taeyong to the steps of the palace. A sound of disdain falls from the guards lips and catches Taeyong’s attention. “What seems to be the problem, might I ask?” Halting his steps, Taeyong turns towards the guard and gives him his full attention. 

Realizing the emperor heard him, the guard stiffens, stuttering over his words hurriedly, attempting to make sure the emperor didn’t misunderstand. “Ah—no, Your Highness. There is no problem; not with you, at least, it’s just there’s this girl that always comes to the palace every week, and it’s just really annoying to send her away all the time.” 

Spotting a girl making her way up the palace steps, the guard and Taeyong watch as the girl encounters her first guard, thrusting the huge bouquet into his face then bowing, appearing to say something completely inaudible from this distance. Standing straight, she looks as if she begs the guard for something, a hopeful look etched onto her face only for it to fall after the guard says something in return. Seemingly giving up, the girl turns to leave the palace, only this time she hangs her head down in sorrow. 

Gathering what could be classified as a humongous bouquet, you make your way to the palace, even though you know you’ll probably be sent away again. Having succeeded in finally getting them to at least take the bouquet, you can only hope it reaches the emperor. Usually you just give him a nice bouquet full of roses that grow right in your garden at home with a nice little card attached reminding him to eat and get enough fluids, things like that, but this time after seeing the emperor you know he needs more than just roses. You gathered up and put together a bouquet full of beautiful red roses, gladiolus colored a light pale peach, white poppies, and a bunch of basil sprinkled throughout the bouquet. 

Each flower carries a significant meaning with it that you want to give to the emperor and even if none of your other bouquets got to him, you really wish this one will. Sitting down, you prepare to write the note that you would leave this time. 

It’s me again, Your Highness. I saw you today when you went down to town, and you looked really tired despite the smile you put on your face for us. I do hope you are getting enough sleep while also keeping yourself fed and hydrated, otherwise if you get sick, who will lead us as well as you do? 

As you can see, I gave you a little something different than the usual roses. Considering that you’re a busy person, I’ll assume that you don’t know these flowers or their meanings so allow me to tell you. 

The red flowers are obviously the roses I have been giving you for the last year or so. The pink looking flowers are called Gladiolus and they symbolize strength and get their name from gladiators who fight with strength and honor. The white flowers are called White poppies; they symbolize peace and the remembrance of war. They got that meaning because they are usually the flowers that grow atop fallen soldiers' bodies after war. Finally the little green leaves sprinkled throughout the bouquet are called Basil; although usually used in food, they are also thought to bring peace while warding off negative spirits, symbolizing good wishes, wealth, and a happy home. 

Now that you know their meaning, I hope you can understand why I gifted these to you. Till next time Your Highness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing the folded piece of paper, Taeyong lets out a breath before looking at the beautiful bouquet in his hands. He was surprised that someone took so much notice and cared so greatly about him and his well-being to do something like this. With a light heart and a small flustered grin, he places the card back in the bouquet, setting the flowers in a vase atop the vanity in his room, somewhere where he is sure he will get to see the flowers everyday. 

Back to normal again this week, Your Highness. I do hope that you were able to receive last week's bouquet, but I know there’s a good chance you did not, just like you will not this week. Do not ask why I continue to deliver these bouquets even though I know that you have not gotten a single one. It is too much to explain over a single note. I hope you have eaten well and stayed hydrated throughout this week. I also hope you have been sleeping well. If not, one way I find that helps is lavender oil. You could take it orally or drink some lavender tea before bed. You could even keep lavender in your room to infuse the area with its scent. 

That’s it for this week, Your Highness. Till next time

Closing the note from this week, Taeyong places it back inside of the bouquet, setting it down on his vanity. “Doyoung!” When you delivered today’s bouquet, Taeyong had made specific orders to ensure that it got to him this time. “Could you fetch me some lavender?” 

So after the first time, every week Taeyong couldn’t help but find himself lying in wait anxiously just to get your bouquet and read the sweet little notes you left in them. He had made sure to keep every single letter. His room was so full of roses that he had to start placing them all over the palace, but not without making sure to get the little note always cuddled inside. Not only that, he even started to smell like roses and he couldn’t be happier. He soon found himself relying on the little notes left in the bouquets’ to get himself through the week. Even if it was the simplest message just telling him to make sure to eat, drink, and sleep properly it still means the world to him.

 He would get so excited for the bouquets that he had even started to make his way down to the palace entrance when he knew you were coming. Doyoung would compare it to a dog waiting on their owner to get home. He swore one of these days he was going to stop being a scaredy cat and go out and accept the bouquet himself, but until that day came he would remain behind the palace doors. 

The resounding gong of the grandfather clock echoed throughout the room, alerting Taeyong of the new hour. It’s not like he didn’t already know, though. “It’s 4 o’clock, I have thirty minutes till my roses come.” Signing the last of the documents, stacking them on top of his desk, Taeyong stands, stretching his lithe body in order to get rid of the stiffness in his joints. Walking around his desk, Taeyong makes his way through the door.

A monotone voice laced with sarcasm breaks the silence, scaring Taeyong. “I guess it’s time for your one-sided weekly date. Or is it one-sided since one brings gifts while the other just watches like a creepy stalker?” Doyoung questions, leaning against the wall next to the entrance whilst raising his eyebrow.

“N-no! I mean, yes, it is close to time for the delivery, but it’s not a date.” A light blush covers Taeyong’s cheeks as the word ‘date’ falls from his lips. “I was just leaving to go around the palace and see how everything is going, checking and making sure things are happening the way they should–y’know, kingly duties.”

Turning to face the obviously flustered king, Doyoung gives him a deadpan expression that screams mmhm sure. “All I got from that was that you admit to being a creepy stalker.” Taeyong’s mouth flies open, unable to give a coherent response. “Oops, look at the time! You should probably start making your rounds,” he says, walking out of the room, the sound of Taeyong’s incoherent ramblings drowning out as he walks away. 

Sobering up from his conversation with Doyoung, he makes his rounds around the castle, steadily making his way to the entrance, keeping his eyes on the time. By the time he makes it to the entrance, he can see the girl making her way up the palace stairs, still a little dot in the distance. He can’t help but notice the way his hands begin to feel clammy and his heart rate slowly picking up as your face comes into view. 

He remembers the first time he came down and was finally able to see your face clearly. He swears it was as if the world stopped. You looked more beautiful than any bouquet he has received from you. He was so flustered that he couldn’t help but to blush every time he thought of you. He knows because Doyoung wouldn’t shut up about the magenta red that spread along his cheeks at random times that day. 

He was so focused on looking at you that he didn’t realize the rushed way in which you gave the guard the bouquet. All he knew was that one second he was staring at your face and the next your back as you lightly jogged away. Slight disappointment settles in his stomach as he realizes you didn’t even attempt to convince the guard to give the bouquet to him this time. 

The guard walks over, handing the bouquet to the waiting king, not wanting to be gone from her post too long; she quickly turns around, moving to head back before the voice of the emperor stops her. “Wait!” Taeyong notices the tension in her body at the sound of his voice, “Yes, your highness?” she asks, voice shaking slightly. 

“Where is the note?” 

Turning back around, she faces the emperor. “What note, sir?” 

“The note. The one that’s always in her bouquets.” Taeyong notices his voice came out sharper than he intended when he sees the guard flinch slightly. “I apologize; I didn't mean for that to come out so harshly. I just—there’s always a note that comes with her bouquets and-and there’s not one in here.”

“Ah, I don’t believe there was one in there, Your Highness. At least, I didn’t see one when she handed it to me.” Upon seeing the crestfallen look that sits on the emperor's face, the guard instantly offers to check and see if it had fallen off somewhere. 

Not wanting to get his hopes up, Taeyong replies, “No you’re fine–it’s fine if you didn’t see it when she handed it to you then it must not have been there in the first place.” Taeyong can hear how disheartened his voice was. Deciding it’s time to go inside, he sends the guard off to go do what they were doing beforehand.

“Hey Tae, how was the–What’s wrong?” Doyoung instantly notices the somber expression placed upon the emperor’s face. “You usually are about ready to jump off of the walls and now you look like the baker just ran out of those sweet potato cubes you get when we go into town.”

“It’s nothing.”

Grabbing Taeyong’s shoulder, Doyoung turns him around so they’re face to face, “That girl didn’t say anything mean in that note she leaves in the bouquets did she? Cause if she did, so help me god- no so help her I will-.”

“Calm down, she didn’t say anything mean. She didn’t say anything at all. There was no note in the bouquet this time.” 

“Oh. Uhh well, at least she still delivered the roses. Maybe something happened and she didn’t have time to write the letter,” Doyoung tries to reason, hoping he would be able to say something that would lift his friend’s spirit. Taeyong could tell Doyoung was trying his best to be supportive but there is nothing he could say right now that could make him feel any better.

“Y-yeah, maybe.” Not wanting to think about it anymore, Taeyong leaves for his room with a wave. At least he finished all of his paperwork for the day and he can just lay in bed.  

Taeyong finds himself walking through a field filled with flowers without an end in sight. It’s not until he sees the outline of a person sitting in the field that he starts to speed up, hoping he could ask the stranger where he was at. 

As he gets closer, the person begins to seem more and more familiar. It has him thinking, trying to figure out who it could be. As if the person hears him they turn around and he’s surprised to see you sitting in the field. 

“Hello Taeyong.” 

“Ahh hi.” Taeyong can feel his heart rate pick up almost as if it’s trying to jump out of his chest.

“Would you like to sit with me? The bloom is absolutely beautiful today.” Replying with a stiff nod, the usually confident emperor shyly takes a seat in the field of white flowers. Giving the seemingly flustered male a soft smile you pluck one of the flowers out of the field, lifting it up to your nose smelling the fragrant plant. 

“Smells heavenly. Would you like to take a sniff?” you ask, taking the flower away from under your nose, handing it to the male opposite you. 

Taeyong takes the small white flower out of your hand, lifting it to take a whiff. He immediately recoils as the putrid smell of rotting flesh infiltrates his senses, “Wha-” You snatch the flower away from his hand taking another whiff. 

“Smells great, doesn’t it? I love the smell of white poppies.” It’s then that Taeyong’s mind remembers the white flowers that were in the first bouquet that he received from you as well as the meaning of the flowers. Finally taking in his surroundings, Taeyong realises that it’s not just a field of flowers but a field of dead bodies. 

“Y’know Taeyong, I used to be sad thinking that I was going to have to go forever without ever getting to see these gorgeous flowers. But because of you and the war your family started, all of these dead bodies were able to sit here and grow some of the most beautiful flowers I have ever seen.” By now you have picked up a whole bouquet worth of the poppies, little pieces of rotted flesh hanging off of the bottoms, “Too bad I had to die before I got to see them.” 

After hearing her last sentence Taeyong takes a good look at the girl, noticing that the white poppies she had collected were all from her body. “Y’know maybe you should die too so you can fully witness the beauty of these flowers,” you say with a slight tilt to not only your voice but your head. 

Before he can question it you’re already driving a spear through Taeyong’s heart. 

~

“Taeyong you look like absolute shit. Do you really think you should be going into town like that?” The bags under Taeyong’s eyes look bigger and heavier than the robe on his shoulders. It has been a week since you dropped off the bouquet without a note.  

“Yes, Doyoung. It’s been a month, we don’t want people to worry.” 

“Funny. You say you don’t want them to worry but you look like the living dead. They’ll worry either way.” The guard rebutts, crossing his arms sassily.

“Doie, I don’t have the time nor the energy to argue with you, just please can we go?” 

“That’s just it. You always have time and energy to argue with me! Taeyong, it’s been a week; it was just one note out of hundreds. Who knows; maybe she just forgot to put it in the bouquet, but regardless of what happened you can't keep moping around and carrying yourself like this. You’re an emperor, for pete’s sake! What will you do when she stops bringing the bouquets?”

Taeyong freezes. What will he do? He can't expect you to deliver bouquets forever, can he? At some point you’ll get tired of it, tired of him, and what will he do then? Standing straight, Taeyong makes his way out of the palace, head held impossibly high. 

“I- dammit Taeyong I didn’t mean it like-”

“No. You’re right, I can’t expect her to always bring the bouquets, that's selfish of me.” I can't always expect her to be here. It's selfish to expect her to be here. “Come on, we have people to see,” he says, climbing inside of the carriage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally done unpacking your clothes from the last minute trip you had to take last week, you plop onto your bed, completely beat. One of the families you delivered medicine to ran out suddenly and you had to rush to their house so that their child did not die. You spent the rest of the week nursing the child back to health after they had to go without medicine.  

The thing is, you got the message in the middle of making the emperor’s bouquet for that week and you didn’t have the time to make a note to put in the bouquet. Even though you know that the emperor doesn’t receive the bouquets at all, you still felt the guilt sitting in the pit of your stomach that entire week. 

You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until you’re woken by a series of rushed knocks on your pharmacy door. Getting out of bed reluctantly, you grab your apron, tying it around your waist and walking to the door in order to go see who it is. 

“Chamomile Pharmacy, how may I–” you start opening the door until you get sight of the person on the other side and quickly slam the door back in place. Why was Emperor Taeyong at your door?!? And why did you just slam the door in his face? Reopening the door, you start bowing and apologizing to the seemingly starstruck emperor at once. “I-I am so sorry Your Highness, I didn’t mean to do that, it’s just you caught me by surprise. I wasn’t expecting it to be you behind the door,” you hurriedly attempt to explain until Taeyong is knocked out of the way by his royal guard Doyoung. 

“We don’t have time for this right now. You can have your little–whatever this is later. We need you to make more of this medicine for Mr. Young immediately. We showed up at his house right as he passed out and this was on his counter!”        

Grabbing the bottle, you realize this is the heart elixir you made him some time ago, “Shit! Okay I’ll be right back. I need to go grab something out of the garden first,” You quickly tell the men, writing at the speed of light on a piece of paper. “Here, while I’m getting that I need you two to look and find these in that cabinet over there. I need everything ready for when I get back so I can quickly get this to him.” 

Rushing out into the garden, you quickly sort through various plants until you find the two you’re looking for. You barge back into the pharmacy to see that Doyoung and the emperor got a little over half of the ingredients down. “Okay, even though everything isn’t down yet I’m going to go ahead and get started. One of you, continue to look for everything while the other comes over here and gives me a hand. We have to hurry.” You are so focused on getting the medicine done that you don’t even notice Taeyong handing you the supplies. 

Finishing up the elixir and gathering all of the utensils, you stuff them into your rucksack and run out of the door. “We rode horses over here, it’s faster than on foot. Hop on Taeyong’s; we have to go,” Doyoung all but commands as he mounts his horse, already taking off. The adrenaline pumping through your system helps to keep you calm about the fact that you now have your arms wrapped around Taeyong’s waist and are currently on a horse with him. 

In no time you’re riding up to Mr. Young's homely brick house, the one that he and his late wife built back when they were younger. Pushing your way into the house, you see the old man lying on a cot on the floor. Taking everything out, you lie it on a towel next to you on the floor and pull on a pair of gloves. 

Quickly checking the old man's pulse, you let out a breath in relief that it’s still there but very faint. You take a pair of medical scissors and cut his shirt open. Grabbing the bottle containing the green elixir and a needle syringe you urgently but carefully extract some of the liquid from the bottle. At this point the silence in the room is deafening, but you’re only able to hear the white noise buzzing in your ears, blocking out any and all distractions. 

You check and make sure that it’s the right amount before giving the syringe a slight squeeze, pushing a few drops of the liquid out of the needle. Taking a deep breath, you harshly stab the needle into the man’s chest, forcing the liquid through the needle, unknowingly garnering stiff gasps from those who are watching. You immediately retract the syringe only to place your hand on the same spot, firmly yet softly massaging it. 

After massaging for a couple of minutes you sit back, bated breaths falling from your lips. “You can take him to his room now, he needs to rest. I’ll go make some tea for everyone.” Gathering your supplies, you take them to the kitchen to disinfect and sterilize them. Behind the doors of the kitchen you finally feel yourself calm down and it’s then that you notice the intense way in which your hands are shaking.   

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everything was going fine, and he was almost done making his rounds with everyone. One of the last people he had to meet with was Mr. Young, the sweet old man who always made him help pick things out of his garden, and that’s when the day took a turn. Was it for the worse? Taeyong didn’t know yet. Walking in on the man passed out on the floor shook Taeyong to his core. When he and Doyoung finally noticed the empty bottle on the countertop, they read the label which stated the pharmacy where the medicine was from. 

From there, they took two of the guard’s horses and were off to find the pharmacy. It’s there that Taeyong found you, though the circumstances were less than great. He still couldn’t believe you were right there in front of him, but the moment was over after Doyoung realized what was happening. Now that everything had calmed down and Mr. Young was okay, the fact that you were just a few steps away in the kitchen was eating at the emperor. 

“I don’t get why you just don’t go in there and talk to her.” Doyoung spoke suddenly, sounding bored with his life after noticing the way in which the king fidgeted in his chair, eyes constantly flitting to look back and forth from the kitchen door to his feet. 

“I mean, it’s not like she can do anything; you’re an emperor for god’s sake. Unless you want to continue being a creepy stalker, I suggest you go in there and tell her that you’ve been receiving her bouquets and you like them or some shit like that.” 

“I-I can’t just barge in there and–”

“He only had jasmine tea in his cabinets, so I hope there’s nothing wrong with that,” you say, walking into the living room with a tray of tea-filled cups in your hands. 

“Jasmine is fine,” Doyoung replied, simultaneously leaning down to pick up his cup. Taeyong suddenly couldn’t speak as you looked at him expectantly, wanting to make sure he was okay with jasmine tea. All he could do was look up at your glowing face with eyes that might as well be in the shape of hearts. “Ah jasmine is good for him as well. Forgive my liege, he's still a little shaken up from the situation.” 

With a soft nod you turn around, moving to make your way back into the kitchen. It was then that Taeyong’s mouth and mind decided to move as one. “Wait! Where are you going?”  

“Oh, uhm, I was going back to the kitchen. I figured you two would want to be alone,” you say, almost cradling the board to your body, gesturing awkwardly towards the door. 

“You don’t have to.  Why don’t you sit in here, with us?” 

“I mean, if you’re fine with that.”

“I’m fine, I’m more than fine.” The words were out of Taeyong’s mouth before he could even process them fully. You move to sit on the other side of the loveseat beside Taeyong. 

The sound of purposeful slurping provided by Doyoung barely sufficed at cutting the tension in the room. “I just remembered, we never seemed to have gotten your name?” Doyoung asked, ending the silence that layered the house. 

Quickly swallowing the tea in your mouth, you reply “Oh, I’m sorry, how rude of me, my name is Y/n. I’m the owner of Chamomile Pharmacy.” You add a bright smile at the end.

“Owner, huh? You must really like medicine.”  

“Hmm, I guess you could say that, but not really. I mainly just like flowers, and growing up I realized all the medicinal benefits they hold, so I figured why not make money and spend my life surrounded by what I love?” You sit back in the seat, seemingly comfortable now that you’re talking about a passion. “I get to help people while surrounded by plants all day; it’s a win-win.” 

“Mmhm, that sounds lovely. Oh, Taeyong.” The king’s head practically snaps up at the mention of his name. Spotting the mischievous look in his best friend's eyes, his stomach practically dropped to the floor. “You love flowers as well, specifically roses. Don’t you, Your Highness?” 

“I–”

“Yeah, I distinctly remember your love for roses starting after receiving a bouquet full of them every week.” Doyoung had no idea that this was the flower girl at first, but Taeyong could tell by the way he had been acting ever since you came around that he had come to piece it together–especially after you blatantly declared your love for flowers just a few mere seconds ago. 

At his words, your mouth fell open in pure unadulterated shock. The emperor had been receiving your bouquets?! And he liked them? You had no idea how to feel with all of the mixed emotions flowing through you. 

Wide eyed, you ask, “You’ve been receiving my bouquets, Your Highness?” 

Taeyong is flustered when he replies, “Y-Yes I have, they are very… nice. Thank you for them.”

“He really likes the little love notes you put in them,” Doyoung adds, deliberately putting the word love in front of notes. At his words, Taeyong throws the harshest glare he could at the other man, wishing he could strangle him with his eyes alone. 

While Taeyong was glaring daggers at the knight, you couldn’t help but feel sheepish. You thought you were giving those flowers away for nothing, only to realize that the emperor had been getting them and he liked them. Then you remembered that you had forgotten the note in your last one. 

“Ah, I just remembered that I forgot to put a note in the last one.” You speak bashfully, lowering your head. “Well, I didn’t forget, per say, I just didn’t have the time–an emergency came up while I was making it and I had to hurry. I didn’t think it would matter that much since you weren’t getting them, but now I know you were, so I feel bad.”

“No, it’s okay, I understand. There’s no need for you to feel bad, things happen.” Taeyong finally speaks, not liking the obvious way in which you blame yourself. Standing up, he motions to a door, stating that he has to use the restroom.

The room sits silent at Taeyong’s absence. You still feel guilty, but before you can think too hard about it, Doyoung shocks you out of your thoughts with a  question, “Y/n, why do you always give roses?”

“Hm? Oh, why roses? Well that's easy, because he’s The Rose Emperor .” Doyoung lifts an eyebrow in question. “Ah, I forgot that I’m the only one who calls him that,” you explain quickly. “Well, one of the reasons is because he has this beautiful rose-shaped scar right under his right eye. And I mean, he’s like a rose. Pretty and elegant and practically harmless to the unsuspecting eye, but he has thorns, which he uses to keep people away, thorns he uses to hide things from everyone, even those closest…”You trail off for a moment, thinking. “Hmm, if you think about it that way, wouldn’t that mean we're all like roses?” You speak nonchalantly, looking somewhat deeply into your cup of tea. “So that would make this world a bed of roses, wouldn’t it?” 

Standing but a few feet away, hiding behind a wall, the man in question couldn’t help but overhear. The way you talked and the words you used to describe him made his heart pound. You sounded so sweet and genuine, and he couldn’t help but believe every word you said. His hand uncontrollably caresses the scar you mentioned. He never noticed that it looked like a rose. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Doyoung, I need to borrow some of your clothes.” Busting into the guard’s room, the emperor pants quickly, garnering the man’s attention. 

“Wha–for what?”

“No questions, I just need them,” the young ruler says, walking into the man's wardrobe. “Oh and if you have a hat and mask, I’m going to take those, too.”

Taeyong’s presence in the shop is known as soon as he walks through the door, a bell ringing upon contact. Hurriedly pretending to scan the shelves as if searching extremely hard for something, Taeyong hears you enter the room through the back door moments later. 

“Sorry for not greeting you as soon as you came in. I was doing a little gardening in the back. Is there anything I can help you with today?” you ask, simultaneously washing the slight dirt off of your hands at the sink.

Knowing it would be rude to not acknowledge you, Taeyong turns to face you, self-consciously tugging on the mask resting on his face, not knowing if he wants you to know it’s him or not. You walk over after drying your hands, ready to help the customer, finally getting a good look at the man’s mask-covered face. You freeze in your spot, not knowing if you are just delusional or if Emperor Taeyong is actually standing in the middle of your pharmacy. 

“Uhh Your Highness..?” you question slowly, giving the stranger room to deny if needed. 

“I–uhmm yes,” Taeyong stutters, taking the mask off of his face, revealing his apparently not-so-secret identity. Despite breathing just fine a few seconds ago, Taeyong seems to not be able to when you give him a dazzling smile. You ask him why he’s here and if he needs anything. “Yes, I’m here because I, uhh, need something to help with… headaches! Yes, I get headaches, y’know, from reading papers all day.”

“I have just the thing to help with that! I get headaches myself, and I find that the plant Feverfew helps a good bit. The plant itself can be a little strong and could cause irritation to the mouth if chewed, so I just grind it up and make a nice little diluted concoction with it, and it does wonders,” you say, grabbing the bottle containing the liquid, placing it on the counter, and making your way to the other side so you could bag the medicine.

“I must warn you, though–it can have very light side effects that can cause nausea, digestive problems, and bloating.” Finishing up you place the now bagged medicine on the counter sliding it over to Taeyong. 

“Ah, how much do I owe?” 

“Nonsense, you’re good, consider it the Monarch's discount.” Thanking you, the emperor grabs the bag, making his way out the door, “Bye, come again.” 

After the first time, Taeyong continued to visit the store, each time for a different reason. He stayed a little longer each time he visited, finding himself wanting to indulge in your presence more and more. Even when you would go to the palace to deliver your weekly bouquets he would come out now just to start a conversation with you. You both would end up just sitting on the palace steps talking for hours on end. 

Now was one of the times when you would sit outside the palace talking with the king.  

“Your Highness, word was just sent in from the WayV kingdom, and there are forms to be signed urgently.” Doyoung addressed the young emperor, throwing an apologetic look at you for ruining your time together. 

A breath falls past your lips as you push yourself up. “Oh well, I guess that’s my cue to leave. See you later, Your High-” 

“Wait. Why don’t you come inside with me? This shouldn’t take too long.” 

You and Doyoung gape at the emperor, both in shock. Wanting to hurry and get things settled, Taeyong passes both of your almost statuesque bodies. Doyoung offers to show you around while Taeyong does his work but the emperor quickly refuses. “I’ll do it when I finish.”

Grabbing your wrist, Taeyong all but drags you to his office. There are so many twists and turns that you have no idea how Taeyong didn’t get lost. “You can sit over there on the couch in the foyer. I have some books on the shelf over there you can read if you want. I'll be right here behind this desk.”  

Taking in the extravagant office, you can’t help but notice how roses cover almost every single open surface possible. He really did keep every rose he got from you. Just that thought alone makes your heart pound so hard that you can hear it beating in your ears. Deciding you should do something before you look weird, you walk over to the shelf, surveying the books available to you. 

You pick a book that looks good enough and sit down on the couch.You try to focus on the words in front of you, but the room is warm, and the couch is comfortable, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. You didn’t realize you fell asleep until you felt Taeyong gently shaking you awake. The sun had started to set, casting a beautiful warm golden glow around the room. 

 Taeyong sat beside you on the couch, still grasping your shoulder as you both stared intensely at each other. You felt yourself slowly leaning towards the beautiful man, almost as if you were in a trance. Taeyong couldn’t help but take in every gorgeous feature on your face as it was surrounded by a golden halo.

Moving his hands from your shoulder to the nape of your neck he pulls you in, no longer able to hide the attraction he has for you. Your lips mingled in a dance only privy to them. Leaving the one on your neck the other moves to the side of your face, Taeyong positions you just how he wants and you couldn’t help but to give in to him.  

It was as if his entire being consumed you and you had no choice but to follow his lead. Removing his mouth from yours he steadily transitions his lips lower splaying damp kisses all around your jugular. “Y-your highness, m-maybe we should stop.”

“Call me Taeyong darling and I don’t want to stop if you don’t.” he says, eyes flitting up to look at yours. “Do you want to stop?”

Feeling a fire burning in your stomach setting your lower regions ablaze, you know you can’t give him anything but the truth, “No, I don’t want to stop Taeyong.” Taeyong’s satisfied hum rumbles against your collarbone, “That’s my girl.” 

His lips find their way back to yours, an involuntary moan falling from yours as Taeyong pushes his tongue inside your mouth. He takes his time exploring your mouth as if he wanted to get acquainted with every nook and cranny. When he took his lips away this time it was as if he took your soul right with him. A small discontent whine leaves your mouth causing the male to coo, “Aww look at my precious rose, so needy already.”

He plants a small peck on your lips pushing you to lay back on the couch, “May I remove your pants darling?” Giving him a small head nod he starts to lower himself down to your now wet core. Your underwear comes off right along with your pants and the slightly cool air hitting your hot core feels almost heavenly. 

Lifting your legs on top of his shoulders Taeyong plants soft kisses along your pelvic region finally deciding to stop teasing he licks a long slow stripe up your wet pussy making sure to give a little more pressure right onto your clit. 

Taeyong’s hands move to sit in the crevice of your pelvis, tightening his grip simultaneously bringing you closer to his mouth as he proceeds to contort his tongue between your soft lips as a pianist moves their fingers across the keys aiming to hit the right notes to make you sing.

Your voice cracks almost violently as endless moans drip from your lips like sap out a tree. Eyes sealed shut you can’t help but to see stars as Taeyong makes you feel like you’re on top of the world. His soft hair rests between your fingers latching onto the strands for dear life as you attempt to somehow ground yourself. 

If he wasn’t holding you down you know for a fact that you would be humping his face akin to a dog in heat. “Fuck.” he moans between your legs sending vibrations all the way down your body. Suckling your lips between his as he looks up at your face scrunched in pleasure, “Open your eyes baby, look at me.” 

You should not have had as much trouble as you did opening your eyes but after a few seconds you finally were able to do so. “I want you to focus on me baby, watch me eat this succulent pussy of yours until you cum.” One of his hands moves, transitioning to start rubbing your clit applying ample pressure. 

His tongue starts to prod at the opening to the place in which you seemed to want him the most right now. The combination of his mouth and hands was too much and you felt your legs start shaking as you alerted Taeyong of your oncoming orgasm. “That’s it baby, cum for me. I want to see it.” 

You didn’t even know your voice could go as high as it did in that moment. Your labored breaths were halted as Taeyong pressed his wet lips to yours causing you to taste yourself on his lips. “You still up for that tour?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your Highness, there have been reports of an outbreak of some sorts. For right now it’s small but we have no idea what it is or where it came from.” Doyoung says, ending his report on current events. 

“Okay, since this is something we have no prior dealings with we need to tread carefully. Get everyone who might be infected and make sure they’re getting proper care. Talk to them, see what their symptoms are and ask what they were doing before they got sick. Maybe we can try and piece together how you contract it.”  

“Should we alert the public, Your Highness?” 

“No, not for now at least. This is still manageable. We don't want to scare everyone for no reason.” Finishing up his duties, Taeyong starts to head to your house. 

You had yet to talk to Taeyong about what happened that day despite having seen each other multiple times since then. Not like you regretted it or anything you just felt bad about Taeyong servicing you and you not being able to return the favor. You were interrupted in the middle of your naughty thoughts when you heard soft knocks ring against the door not to the pharmacy but to your house placed on the side of the pharmacy. 

Answering the door you only expected to see one person on the other side of the door. “Hi Taeyong.” you breathe softly gazing at the male opposite you. 

“Hello my rose.” placing a kiss on his lips you let him enter the room. Taeyong pulls two books out from his bag and you hurriedly rush over to where Taeyong sits on your bed grabbing your book as Taeyong pulls you onto his lap. Reading for a while your mind can’t help but to go back to what happened. 

Taeyong can feel the air in the room change as you squirm on his lap. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?” 

“Uhh nothing Yongie.” 

Grabbing a hold of your waist Taeyong lowers his head to your ear, “It doesn’t feel like nothing darling.” His warm breath hits your ears as he slowly lets his tongue dart out and lick a stripe up the shell of your ear. 

“I- just want to pleasure you as well. Last time you only focused on me and I want to return the favor.” you speak turning around in the male’s lap legs wrapping around his waist. You bring the male into a feverous/feverish? Kiss. You hear his breath hitch as you slowly grind down onto his semi hard dick, and you feel the grip he has on your waist tighten. 

Moving yourself to Taeyong’s thigh instead of his entire lap. You maneuver his pants off leaving his boxers on. You slip your hand between your bodies reaching for Taeyong’s boxer clad cock. Lightly squeezing while massaging his length you lean forward gingerly planting kisses along his neck swirling your tongue on each spot you kiss. 

“Shit Y/n.”

“You want me to take it out, Yongie? Do you want me to wrap my hands around your hard dick and rub you till you cum all over my hands.” you tease applying more pressure to his hard appendage, “Hmm maybe I’ll even let you watch me lick your cum off of my hands.” 

“Oh Fuck yes.” 

“That doesn’t sound like begging to me baby.” 

“Hmm please baby, please take it out and make me cum.”

You grin, squeezing his now fully hard cock harder, “Well since you asked so nicely.”  Your hand moves to the band of his boxers removing the clothing. His erect penis pops up, slapping the male’s clothed abdomen after finally being released.

You let a few drops of spit fall onto the palm of your hand before giving Taeyong what he wants, gripping him. You slowly start to work your hand up and down his stiff cock fluctuating the strength you use to grip it.

“How does that feel Tae? Are you enjoying yourself sweetheart?” you whisper in his ear speeding up your ministrations. A broken moan falls from the semi pouted lips of the emperor. The feel of your hand gripping his cock felt like heaven he could barely think. 

The slick sound of your hand going up and down his dick was all that could be heard throughout the room. Taking your other hand you begin to not only stroke his length but also fondle his balls. “Ah, Y/n I’m not going to last much longer please make me cum.” Wanting to give him what he wanted you run the pad of your thumb along the underside of him and slowly massage the bundle of nerves just under the head. 

As soon as you do, a whimper leaves Taeyong’s lips as his head falls forward resting on your shoulder. His mouth starts sucking on any pieces of exposed skin he can find and you feel him mumble against your shoulder, “I’m cumming.” His warm release falls onto your hands covering them as you try to squeeze out every last drop. Raising your hand to your mouth you lick some of the cum off of your hand tasting him. 

“Fuck sweetie you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Taeyong. It’s gotten worse. The illness has started spreading; our attempt at keeping it contained was a failure. While it did slow the spread, it did nothing to stop it.”

Slamming his hand on the desk Taeyong couldn’t help but to curse, “Fuck! Did you at least figure out how it’s contracted and its symptoms?” 

“Yes, after questioning the patients it became pretty clear that it wasn’t contracted in any specific way. Almost all have reports of having been in public settings surrounded by a lot of people and said a few days later they caught a pretty nasty cold. Instead of it going away like a normal cold does, it started to get worse, pretty soon they couldn't move at all, not even lift a finger. After developing hot flashes, they start to lose the ability to speak, and you know they are about to die when they start to have rashes appear upon their skin.” 

“Have you asked the doctors if they can find a cure?” 

“Yes, we have already put them onto it, but for now there is nothing.”

Thinking about what he should do, Taeyong's hand comes up to scratch his jawline. He knows that he has to alert the public of the outbreak now. “Okay, since there is no discernible way in which they get it, we can assume for now that it is passed from excessive human contact. Doyoung, I need you to release a statement stating that there should be no excessive contact between everyone. If able to avoid big crowds then stay away.” 

Writing the commands down in a notebook, Doyoung asks, “Anything else?” 

“Yes, since it has gotten a lot bigger now, the public must be alerted, even though by now I am sure they have each heard their own variations of what’s happening. It’s better to tell them the truth than lie. We need everyone to be fully informed with correct information so that they don’t make things worse.” A tired sigh falls from his lips, “Release a doctor’s statement. I want the royal doctor to make a statement that will tell the public all they need to know about this new illness so they can protect themselves.”

“On it, Your Highness.” Doyoung says, turning around and quickly heading out the door. You were supposed to come visit Taeyong today. He's glad he gets to see you. You always make things better for him. You walk into Taeyong’s office to him writing something in a notebook. He was so involved in what he was writing that he didn’t hear you come in.  

“Hey Yongie.” Walking over to the male, you see him raise his head from the paper, looking at you with a dazzling smile. 

“Hello, beautiful.” Taeyong pulls you into his lap, “How was your day, my rose?” You start rambling on about what was going on at the pharmacy, and Taeyong finds himself zoning out looking at you talking animatedly about a customer you had today. It’s times like these where Taeyong realizes he could never live his life without you. 

Taeyong has been really busy lately, dealing with the disease outbreak. You guys have hardly seen each other. New word had been put out about the disease after one of the people who are believed to have gotten it first were found. Sadly they were on their last string, but their family said something about them eating a strange fruit some odd days before they had gotten sick. 

Business for you has practically skyrocketed, people hurrying to get all types of medicines just out of plain fear that they might contract the disease. Even though there is no cure yet, they still think that arthritis medicine will somehow help them. 

You had secretly been working on your own attempt at creating a cure, wanting to help Taeyong and get some of the pressure off of his shoulders and wanting to help the people affected by this disease. Of course it has gotten nowhere, but at least you try. 

You had asked Taeyong what the fruit that their family said they ate looked like in hopes of being able to find it and base an antidote off of that. He gave you the same description they gave him, but it didn’t lead anywhere. Noticing how empty the pharmacy had become, you felt it was the perfect time to go pick up some bread. 

Flipping the sign and locking the door you head towards the bakery. Ever since the decree had been made for people to not group together, the streets had been the emptiest you had ever seen. Walking in, you couldn’t help but notice the other people that stood around talking waiting on their baked goods. Putting in your order, you stand off to the side. 

“You know, they say that Emperor Taeyong has caught the disease.”

“What?! You can’t be serious.” 

“Why would I joke about something like that?” the first lady says, looking well over offended. “I have a friend who has a cousin who has a brother who has a boyfriend that works in the palace.” 

“Woah, so you basically know the emperor.” 

“Exactly. I swear on it, the emperor has the disease.” You proceed to tune out the gossiping women on the other side of the room. You know that there’s a good chance the lady is lying, but what if Taeyong has the disease? He hasn’t come to visit in a few days. You feel your chest constrict at the mere thought. 

You’re so distraught that you don’t hear the baker telling you your order is ready until after she walks up to you and hands you your bread. “Oh, uhh thank you.” Giving the lady a small nod, you walk out of the bakery.

When you get back to the house, you check for mail and find some in the mailbox next to your door. Picking it up, you notice the royal insignia on the envelope. Figuring it’s from Taeyong, you instantly start to tear it open.

Hello my rose, I don’t know how to say this to you, but I’m sick, really sick. I got the disease. I’m so sorry darling. Worst of all is I can’t even see you. I absolutely forbid you from coming here. Do you hear me? From now until we meet again, we can communicate by letter. I love you so much, my rose. 

Love, Your Yongie

As your mind slowly starts to register the note, your knees instantly give out, bringing you to the floor of your living room. You can barely register the sting from the impact. You couldn’t help but let out a broken gut-wrenching cry. Your tears feel like fire as they run down your face. You clutch your heart; it’s as if you can feel it breaking. 

Everyday Taeyong sends you a letter and everyday you put it in the pile with the others. It broke your heart every time you would put the letters unopened together with the others and never wrote a response back, but recently you had thrown your entire being into finding a cure for the disease. You couldn’t risk another breakdown like when you first found out, because every single second matters. 

Every second you spend trying to find a cure brings you closer to a forever with Taeyong, and you couldn’t risk that. You still open and run the pharmacy like normal, but even then you spend all of your time asking customers everything they know about the disease and whatever anyone they knew who had it was going through. 

Lately, the way you’ve been going at it was to find the fruit that supposedly started it all and find out why the human body reacts so badly to it. You just managed to find it yesterday while you were out in the forest for the third time hunting for it. You were planning to do some tests and see what you possibly can do. 

A series of harsh knocks rain upon the pharmacy door and the irritation at the possible customer shows on your face. “I’m sorry but we’re clo–” Your sentence stops abruptly as Doyoung harshly shoves past you, the anger and tension in his body evident.

“You know, you have some fucking nerve. Taeyong is literally dying right now, he is fucking dying yet he still manages to write you everyday. And on days when he can’t muster the strength he gets someone to write what he says.” Whipping his body around he faces you, face scrunched in a horrendous snarl, “And you can’t even take the time to write a fucking letter back. All you do is sit in this pharmacy and play in your stupid garden all day.”

It’s then that he notices the pile of letters sitting neatly on your desk, a scoff pushes its way past his lips, “Oh my fucking god, you didn’t have the decency to even open them. Have you ever even loved him? Tell me. Honestly.” He stares directly into your eyes, the fire in them seemingly endless. “Or was he just some toy? A part in some plan you had to get rich and become an empress or some shit. Did you just use my best friend for your own selfish reasons?” 

Your mouth opens, preparing to say something only for it to close again. Repeating that process multiple times you find out that there were no words you could say that would satisfy him. “And it’s funny because if that was your plan, then it worked. I know you don’t know but Taeyong planned to propose, he wanted–no, wants to spend the rest of his life with you. I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but oh well.” At his statement, your mouth falls open again, leaving you utterly speechless. 

A moment of silence passes and a heavy sigh from the male fills the air. He stares tiredly at your desk, exasperated. “He’s dying, simple as that. Doctor says he doesn’t have much longer before the rashes start popping up. His estimate was at most two weeks.” With his face angled away from you, the tears that streamed down his face weren’t visible. “Do what you will with that information. I don’t have the time for this.” 

Turning his body, Doyoung walks out the door, leaving a chill in the air. You don’t even have it in you to cry. Your sorrow runs farther than any river in the world, yet the thought that kept you from breaking down was Taeyong’s smile. Then you realized you would never be able to see it again if there was no cure. Swiping  away the tears that managed to fall, you get back to work. Taeyong wasn’t going to die on your watch. 

Your chest felt so tight, like it was squeezing all of the air out of your lungs. You could barely feel the shock of your heavy footfalls on the pavement as you ran like your life depended on it. The steps to the palace have never seemed longer as you ran, hoping you made it in time. Passing guards all were blurs as you swore you were running at the speed of light. 

Making your way to Taeyong’s room, you see a distraught Doyoung crouched outside of the door. His silent cries cued your heart to fall to your aching feet. Barely able to get the words out you ask, “Am I too late, is-is he g-gone?” Your voice broke as you spoke those words. Doyoung doesn’t say anything as he silently raises his head to look at you. “I can’t be late. I-I found it, I found the cure. I have the cure to save Taeyong.” 

Not able to withstand Doyoung’s gaze, you burst through the king’s bedroom doors, instantly spotting the palace doctor at his bed. Taeyong lays lifelessly on the bed, chest barely managing to move up and down. This was not the Taeyong you knew, not the man you fell in love with. This man was just but a shell of him. You had never seen his skin so pale, his face sunken in to the point where you can easily see his cheekbones you loved to rain kisses on. 

“Doctor.” Your gaze shifts from the sleeping male to the doctor beside him, “He’s not… dead, is he?”

“No, not yet, but I do recommend you give your last goodbyes.” 

Walking up the man, you forcefully push the vial containing the cure into his hands, “Here, this is the cure.” Broken stutters leave the man's mouth as he questions the integrity of your statement. “Listen, we don’t have a lot of time; just trust that it will work. I have tested it on five different people, all of varying ages, and four out of five of those people survived. The only reason the fifth didn’t was because they were too far gone.” 

You update the doctor on what the antidote is and what it does. “The antidote is not a cure per say, it doesn’t get rid of the disease. I studied the fruit that the disease stems from and something in the DNA of it, let's just say it doesn't agree with something in our DNA, which causes basically an allergic reaction times 100. This antidote soothes the part of our DNA that reacts so badly, and that in turn stops the allergic reaction so that it doesn’t kill us. Now that I’ve wasted time explaining that to you, can we please get the antidote in his system?”

All of your talking caused the sickly emperor to awaken to your voice in the room with him. “Y/n, what are you doing here? I thought I told you to not come here. I-” 

“Taeyong, calm down, baby, please. I am here to save you.” You nod to the doctor giving him the go for the injection. “The doctor is about to inject the cure for the disease into you, then you’re going to get better for me, okay?”

After administering the shot, Taeyong had fallen asleep again from lack of energy. It had been 10 hours and you sat every single one on his bedside, wanting to be the first to see him. In those 10 hours, you told the doctor how to make more of the cure so that he could get it to everyone, and Doyoung finally came into the room after hearing what you had done, and gave you a proper apology for snapping at you. 

You feel a hand grip yours, and you snap your head up to see Taeyong looking back at you with a smile as big as he could conjure right now placed on his face. Quickly handing him some water, you start to question how he feels. Telling you he feels the best he has in weeks was good enough to satiate you for now. 

When Taeyong had finally convinced you to lay in bed with him, you chose this moment to give him his answer. 

“Yes.” A look of confusion covers Taeyong’s face as he wonders what you are saying yes to. “Yes, I will marry you.”  

You and Taeyong decided not to have a huge wedding, instead choosing to hold a ceremony with just a few of your closest friends, but you did have to present yourself to the empire now as the new empress.

“Are you ready, my rose?” Taeyong asks, walking up behind you in front of the mirror, enclosing his arms around your waist. You turn around to look at him directly, taking in his attire. 

“Why do you have such a heavy robe?” you question, noticing the heavy piece of clothing. You’d always wondered that whenever you would see him out of the palace. 

Shrugging his shoulders, Taeyong plants a kiss upon your cheek, “I-I don’t know it’s just customary, I never thought to change it.”

“Well, for my first decree as empress, I declare that you get a new robe, a lighter one.” you say, dusting the imaginary dust off of his shoulders. “You don’t need to have such a heavy weight on your shoulders. You can tell it weighs you down. I don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

“Will do, my empress. Come, we have to go now.” 

It was getting to the last leg of the parade the citizens held in your honor. You felt so welcome by everyone. You were expecting people to hate you because you weren’t already a royal before you married Taeyong. “How are you holding up, darling? I know these things can take a lot out of people.”

“I am fine, my love, just slightly tired.” You can’t help but wave at every person you see, feeding off of their enthusiasm. Overcome with emotion, Taeyong can’t help it when he cradles your face in his hands, lowering his head whilst tilting yours to give him room, and plants a loving kiss upon your cheek. Your cheeks were on fire at his public display of affection in front of everyone, yet you found yourself fully indulging in the kiss, closing your eyes in hopes of savoring the moment. The kiss caused an uproar within the crowd, the citizens ecstatic at the relationship between you both. 

“Taeyong, what was that earlier today? Why’d you kiss me?” 

“I’m sorry, baby. I couldn’t help it when I saw you and how happy you looked waving at everyone,” he explains pulling you into another kiss, but this time on the lips. Slowly the kiss becomes heated and you start pawing at each other's clothes, almost ripping them off. Taeyong plants kisses along your neck as you begin to fondle his soft manhood. 

You feel Taeyong’s hand slide to your cunt rubbing your clit, “Looks like someones already ready for me. I wonder who made you this wet sweetie.” he taunts, slowly pressing one finger inside of you then a second curving them up and spreading them out in order to stretch your tight hole. Your low breathy moans fill the room bouncing off of each and every wall. 

Pretty soon you both are ready, blindly walking yourself to the bed you land on the soft cushion with an oomph. Taeyong slowly grinds his now hard cock up and down your slit puposely prodding at your clit. You wriggle your hips silently begging the male to hurry up and put it in. 

Giving into you because he was just as excited Taeyong finally slides himself in, his stiffness getting completely engulfed by your wet hot cavern. “Mmm, I’ll never get used to how well your needy pussy takes me in baby.” His slow thrusts simultaneously scratching that itch but just enough to make it come back for more.

“Harder Tae, I need to feel you wreck me.” Granting your wish taeyong stops the gentle loving strokes, swapping them out for a harsher more unforgiving thrusts. His hips smack yours as Taeyong puts what feels like all the power he has in his thrusts. You close your eyes and see stars as Taeyong fucks your soul out of you. His hands have an unforgiving grip on your waist, one going up to massage your breast, teasing your nipple.

Taeyong starts laying kisses along your body leaving purple spots in his wake. “ I want everyone to see that you are mine and I am yours forever and always.” Whispering in your ear, “Go ahead and cum for me baby, let everyone know what we’re doing so they can see who you belong to.” 

You all but scream Taeyong’s name out in pure ecstasy as you cum the hardest you ever have to date. It felt as if you had been transported to another world. Taeyong cums right behind you filling you to the brim with his seed. “It’s a little too late to say this now but I think it’s about time we start thinking about children.” He says pulling himself out of your now swollen lower region. 

“Oh my god shut up, I hate you,” you cry, out rolling your eyes

“I love you too, my rose.” 

[tchallasbabymama]

Troubled Waters Chapter Four

Hey, yall! Here’s the next chapter of Nia and T’Challa’s journey. I’m super proud of this one (I’m proud of all my work, but still.) With the help of @wordsfromthelivingghost being a bomb ass beta reader, I think this is some of my best work yet. And I’m only gonna get better!

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories (and catch up on this one if you’re new here.) I love when y’all talk to me and share my work so others can discover it, so hit those comment and reblog buttons. Also, be sure to let me know if you want to be tagged in anything. Enjoy!😘

Word count: 8,894

CW: A little blood and cutting but NOT for self-harm reasons. If it bothers you, skip the second half of the scene at Kokou’s temple.

Nia pressed her cheek to the window, careful not to smudge the thin line of white clay painted down the center of her face. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth hung slightly open as she watched Wakanda zoom by from hundreds of feet in the air. She had always loved seeing what the world looked like from above, but it had been years since she last got to enjoy the view. When she was young, Amare would carry her in his arms as he flew high above the ground to give her a taste of what she so desperately wanted: to feel the wind beneath her nonexistent wings.

T’Challa half-watched Nia from his seat off to the side of the cabin as he flipped through news articles on his kimoyo beads. As they flew over a statue of Bast in her full panther form, he could tell the bright blue light radiating from the tunnel beneath the goddess intrigued her. Her head tilted slightly to the left, and he turned off his beads right as she turned around with a question on her lips.

“That’s Mt. Bashenga,” T’Challa answered prematurely as he stood and made his way over to the window, looking out at his kingdom as Okoye steered the Royal Talon over the Mining province.

“Why’s it glowing?”

“Vibranium.”

“Ohhh.” Nia thought back to the human history books she read as a child that told their story of the founding of Wakanda. Obviously, they had censored the part about aziza, but she still found their revisionist history fascinating. “That’s where the meteorite landed, right?”

T’Challa nodded, impressed by her knowledge.

“Ubaba always said vibranium was ‘the humans’ magic’,” she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

T’Challa was mildly shocked. He had never considered it that way, but he supposed it was sort of otherworldly what they were able to do with the substance. In comparison to other humans, anyway.

Okoye kept her focus on flying the ship, but T’Challa couldn’t help but spot the slight glow that emanated from Nia’s skin while she ogled the scenery. The king reflected on the description of aziza he had read the day before and remembered that it mentioned their luminous skin. He had noticed that even when she was standoffish towards him, she seemed to radiate light from the inside out, but seeing her literally light up in excitement brought him joy.

When Birnin Zana came into view, Nia’s eyes curiously trailed along the tributaries that moseyed through the metropolis and she was reminded of the magic realm’s big city, Birnin Umlingo. She smiled fondly at how similar they were despite the fact that Birnin Zana was so much bigger. It was nestled between rolling hills and sharp cliffsides, and she was pleasantly surprised to see all the lush greenery dispersed throughout the city. There were small parks everywhere and most of the roofs were topped with well-kept gardens. The skyscrapers and apartment buildings stretched to the sky like the trees that lined the streets, but Nia was almost blinded when the sun bounced off of an impressive structure in the middle of the city. Two almost conical, shining towers spiraled up from an ancient foundation that swirled around the base like the flowing tributary that surrounded most of it like a moat. The towers were connected by a long bridge about a third of the way up and despite her amazement, Nia couldn’t help but wonder why they had to build two towers instead of just one.

“Bast, is that the palace?” She pointed up ahead.

T’Challa smirked proudly. He never tired of seeing the dual vibranium spires that towered over even the tallest skyscrapers throughout the city.

“It is,” he said proudly.

“It’s so big,” she whispered, then turned to look at him. “Does it ever feel empty?”

He furrowed his brows, making a little crease appear between them that Nia found endearing. “How do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just you and your family that live there, right?”

The king nodded.

“Then why do you need so much space? And why two instead of just one? It seems so unnecessary.”

Okoye bit the inside of her lip to keep from snickering at Nia’s sincere inquiries. She wasn’t too keen on Nia and wasn’t quite sure why she was there, but she had worked for T’Challa long enough to know he didn’t like people questioning him.

“I don’t- it’s not just...look.” He pointed back out the window to distract her, and Nia whipped her head around to watch their descent to the landing pad in front of the palace.

The three of them exited the Talon, but instead of entering T’Challa’s gratuitously large home, they made a left and walked through the palace gates and into the bustling streets of Birnin Zana. Nia had been to the big city before when she was young, but it seemed like it had exploded over the last couple of decades. It had always been a busy hub of commerce for the Merchant tribe, but business owners from the other tribes had moved there in droves over the past few years to get a piece of the pie.

The three of them passed through the financial district with ease. Nia kept her neck craned to look up at the tall banks, corporate offices, and massive parking garages filled with hovercars. In the distance, she saw an arena and she wondered what took place there. Did they have many concerts? Sporting events? She made a mental note to ask about that later and continued to take in her surroundings. The maglev trains zooming by high above the street caught her attention, and her eyes widened. She had never been on a train before.

They eventually made it to Three Step Town, the cultural hub of the city and Nia looked on in awe at the various businesses that surrounded them. Once again, she was reminded of Birnin Umlingo as she looked around at the diversity that surrounded her. Most of the older folks were dressed in the traditional clothing of their tribes, but the younger Wakandans seemed to prefer a more modern look. They really were a spectacle. Some people had brightly colored manes and shining vibranium tattoos that decorated their skin, and the sight had Nia’s wheels turning. She had never really experimented much with her look, but they were giving her the inspiration to try something different.

Just as Nia began to ponder what body modification would look good on her, she felt someone grab her and yank her to the side of the street. She began to protest right as a streetcar full of people rolled by. Nia turned to thank her savior, smiling sheepishly when she realized it was Okoye.

“Watch where you’re going,” the general warned harshly and let go of Nia’s arm. The two of them joined T’Challa as he spoke to a snaggletoothed young boy who had proudly shown him the Black Panther action figure that he carried everywhere. The boy’s parents thanked the king for being so polite before they said goodbye and went on their way. Nia’s heart warmed a little at seeing T’Challa be so kind to them. He could have easily ignored the family or had Okoye intervene, but he seemed to enjoy interacting with his people. As the three of them continued on their journey, a small smile pushed up the corners of Nia’s mouth knowing he wasn’t as arrogant as she assumed.

Nia was almost overwhelmed by the many shops they passed by. She could buy anything she wanted: jewelry, instruments, furniture, hats. It seemed like they had everything. However, she came to a halt when they walked by a store with colorful, hand-woven baskets hanging out front. The old lady that ran the shop noticed Nia staring and came forward to help her pick one out, but paused when she saw that the king was standing beside her. She saluted him fondly and turned to face his companion.

“Excuse me, how much for this one?” Nia asked the shopkeep as her fingers ran over the intricate patterns along the sides of a mid-sized sweetgrass basket.

“For you it is free,” the older woman said through a bright smile that crinkled her eyes. Before Nia could protest, she had already taken it down and pushed it into her arms.

“Are you sure? I can pay-”

“Just tell people where you got it,” the woman winked before going back inside to help a customer that was ready to check out.

Nia couldn’t believe how kind the woman had been to give her the gift, but her amazement was cut short by T’Challa leaning in close and ruining the moment.

“Just one of the perks of traveling with the king,” he teased.

Nia rolled her eyes and stepped away from him, continuing down the street with her basket swinging in the crook of her elbow. She had been so caught up in her surroundings that she hadn’t noticed the stares from passersby and began to get a little self-conscious. A few people even snapped a picture or two of the king and his elusive friend, some of which would surely end up on gossip blogs by the end of the day.

Her nervousness was short-lived and quickly got replaced with longing when they turned the corner and walked right through the food district. Not only did the colorful produce stands call to her, but the smells of curries and grilled meats continuously pulled her attention from left to right. However, when a deliciously sweet aroma tickled her nose, she stopped dead in the middle of the road.

“Where is that coming from?” Nia sniffed the air and veered off the main street as she followed the scent to a man that was serving up deep-fried sweet plantain on a stick, drizzled with chocolate. T’Challa kept a close eye on Nia but stayed back and let her wander up to the dessert cart alone. He watched as she engaged the man in conversation and saw her come alive when she tasted the sample he provided her. A small smile crept up the king’s face, but his amusement was cut short by Okoye clearing her throat next to him.

“My king,” she started, and he turned slightly in her direction, nodding for her to continue as he kept his eyes on Nia. “If I may...what exactly is her purpose here with us?”

“Nia is a devotee of Bast, and I believe she may be helpful in our attempts to understand what has happened to her,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Okoye sensed his unwillingness to go further into detail and grew quiet again as Nia damn near skipped back over to them with her hands full.

“Here you go,” Nia sang as she held out two of the desserts for them to take. “He saw I was with the king and gave me three for free!”

Neither of them was hungry, but they just couldn’t say no to her big, childlike eyes.

“Thank you,” T’Challa waved to the man behind the counter and took a bite of the dessert, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. “Mmm”

“See? It’s amazing,” Nia said with a mouth full of plantain. Even Okoye had to agree.

The three of them ate their midmorning snack as they strolled through the streets, eventually making their way to a much quieter section on the outskirts of the busy city center. Just as Nia finished licking the last bit of chocolate from the wooden stick, she came face to face with an ancient-looking stone building that didn’t quite fit the vibe of the modern neighborhood. Her eyes zeroed in on the large statue at the entrance. It was a being with the body of a man and the head of an ibis holding a scroll in one hand and a staff in the other.

“Welcome to the flagship branch of the Wakandan Public Library,” T’Challa said proudly.

While Nia loved a good library, she was a little confused about why they were there. “I thought we were going to a temple.”

T’Challa wiggled his eyebrows as he stepped past her, climbing the steps with Okoye in tow, “This is the temple.”

Nia’s curiosity got the best of her, and she followed behind the king and his general. They threw their sticks away in the trash cans outside of the doors that swished open as they approached. Nia hadn’t expected the building to have such modern technologies based on the look of it, but she surmised the library would have a few more surprises up its sleeves.

“Kumkani wam!”

All three of their heads turned towards the woman behind the large marble desk as she scrambled to salute the king, dropping the small stack of books from her arms. T’Challa quickly rounded the desk and smiled at her as he crouched down to pick the books off of the floor. Before she could stoop down to help him, he had already placed them neatly on the desk.

“T-thank you, my king,” the woman stammered and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Never in her life had she imagined she would be so close to royalty, much less her biggest crush. “What can I do for you?”

“Well…” he started, trailing off to get her name.

“Fatima, sir.”

“What a beautiful name,” he flirted innocently and leaned on the cool marble as Nia and Okoye both fought their eyes from rolling to the ceiling. Okoye was used to his flirtatious manner making women swoon at his feet, but it still irked her to no end. They had a job to do, and he was wasting time. Nia, however, felt the tiniest tinge of something deep in her gut as she watched him make eyes at the beautiful librarian. She waved it off as annoyance since she still wasn’t the king’s biggest fan. Adding “womanizer” to her list of reasons not to like him certainly tipped the scales further away from him, balancing out his actions from earlier.

Fatima giggled as she struggled to make eye contact with the handsome king, “Thank you, your highness.”

“Please, call me T’Challa,” he implored, resting his hand over his heart and flashing his irresistible smile.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t do that-”

“I insist.”

Okoye cleared her throat, and T’Challa’s eyes reluctantly shot in her direction.

“Anyway, Fatima, we were wondering if Abdu is in today,” T’Challa continued as he straightened up and stood to his full height, making Fatima swoon even more in his presence. Her eyes wandered down to his chest, but she snapped out of it and attempted to look him in the eye. Her knees nearly buckled under the intensity of his gaze, but she stood firm.

“Y-yes, he is, my ki-”

T’Challa reprimanded her with a simple raise of his right eyebrow, and she quickly corrected herself.

“I mean, T’Challa,” Fatima giggled once more. “I’ll go get him for you.”

“Thank you, Fatima,” he smiled down at her, watching as she walked away with a pep in her step and her hips twitching just a little more than usual.

Fatima disappeared behind a green velvet curtain, and when they were sure she was out of earshot, Nia and Okoye both turned to look at the king. They wore matching expressions of disapproval, but, for some reason, it stung to see on Nia’s face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“Must you flirt with every woman you see?” Okoye butted in, clearly exasperated by his antics.

Nia’s eyebrows jumped as a teasing smirk settled on her lips. “Oh, so this is a common occurrence?”

“You wouldn’t believe how many-”

“General,” T’Challa warned, and Okoye stopped talking.

Nia tried to contain a laugh, but it came out more like a snort than she intended. Just as T’Challa opened his mouth to make fun of her, Fatima appeared from behind the curtain with a heavy-set man with tortoiseshell glasses just a few steps behind her.

“T’Challa, my boy! Oh, excuse me, my king.” The man bowed sarcastically and crossed his arms in a salute. T’Challa waved him off with a smile and a click of his tongue, and the two men embraced each other. Nia had noticed T’Challa wasn’t really one to demand formalities, but the man’s familiarity with the king intrigued her.

“Abdu, how have you been?”

It had been several months since T’Challa last visited the library. Abdu had worked and worshipped there for decades and had watched the king grow into the man before him. Some of T’Challa’s fondest childhood memories consisted of him spending hours curled up in the stacks, flipping through whatever book caught his eye that day. Abdu would bring him story after story for him to get lost in, and the older man never tired of T’Challa’s curiosity. No matter how many questions he threw at him.

“Getting old, but I can’t complain,” the much shorter man said as they pulled apart. He looked around T’Challa and noticed his company. “Okoye, a pleasure to see you as always.”

“You as well, Abdu,” she smiled.

“And who might this lovely creature be?” Abdu asked as his gaze fell on Nia. She bristled at his choice of words but said nothing. Even as a child, she had always been sensitive to the word “creature” and felt it offensive to refer to non-humans as such. She knew he had no idea about her bloodline, though, and since he meant no harm she simply ignored the terminology.

“Nia Olu, sir,” she introduced herself with a nod of her head, and he returned the gesture.

“Ah, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. And what is it that you do, Nia Olu?”

“I am a healer and a devotee of Bast.”

“A devotee, huh? Well, I think we will get along nicely,” he smiled warmly at her before turning back to the king. “What can I do for you all today?”

“Well, actually, Nia is a big part of why we’re here,” T’Challa began. “It seems Bast has gone missing. Neither of us has been able to contact her as of late.”

“Are you a priestess?” Abdu asked Nia, confused as to why a simple devotee would be partnered with the king for such a task. Okoye felt vindicated by his questioning but stayed quiet.

“No, sir.”

“Then, I must say, I’m a little confused on how you would have a direct connection to her-”

“She is highly favored in the goddess’ eyes,” T’Challa cut in, hoping his vague answer would be enough to dissuade Abdu from asking too many questions. He knew it wouldn’t be easy to hide anything from a priest of the god of wisdom, but he also knew he couldn’t give away Nia’s full identity. “We were wondering if maybe you could see if Thoth knows where she is or why she isn’t answering.”

Abdu could tell there was something else to the story, but decided not to press the subject. He figured that if the king felt it was important enough to keep from him, then he had to trust his judgment.

The priest nodded and motioned for the three of them to follow him. T’Challa winked at Fatima before falling in step with Abdu, and once again, Nia’s and Okoye’s eyes struggled to remain straight ahead as they followed behind the two men.

Nia couldn’t help but stare in awe at the rows and rows of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves they passed as they walked through the centuries-old library. She imagined herself spending hours combing through the texts and soaking up whatever knowledge held, just like she did with the many books Amare provided her with as a child. Her daydreaming was cut short when they passed through the children’s section, and she noticed a display of picture books, one of which caught her eye. There, on the cover, was a colorful illustration of an aziza sitting in a tree, watching over a group of children as they played in the grass below him.

Before she knew it, Nia had grabbed the book and started flipping through the pages, scanning the words and pictures for any sign of historical truth. She found none, but her hope didn’t die out. Maybe, just maybe the library held onto more of the past than the Wakandans realized. She knew magical creatures were relegated to folktales, but she began to wonder how many of those tales were historically accurate, if any. She hadn’t noticed that the others had stopped and were watching her tear through the book like it held the secrets to the universe.

“You like that one? It’s a fairly new release. Very popular with the children,” Abdu said, but his words fell on deaf ears.

“Nia?” the king called out to her.

She jumped and dropped the book, but T’Challa caught it before it could hit the ground.

“Yeah? Sorry, I just…” Nia trailed off, unsure of what to say. All three of them looked at her curiously, but when T’Challa’s eyes graced the cover, he understood why she had been called to it. “Are there many stories like this?”

“Of aziza?” Abdu asked for clarification, and Nia nodded. “Sure! Kids love fantastical creatures. You know, some of them even swear up and down that they’ve seen them in real life.”

T’Challa and Nia shared a quick glance as he set the book back where she found it. Of course, Okoye caught their quick exchange.

“Such wild imaginations,” Nia murmured, and the group continued on their trek. She was quiet for a moment as she tried to figure out the best way to word her next question when she decided to just go for it. “Abdu, is there any mention of, um, species that are no longer around in any of these books?”

T’Challa looked at her knowingly out of the corner of his eye. He knew what she was getting at, and he was curious about Abdu’s answer. After seeing Nia’s book the day before, his mind had begun to wonder about ancient Wakandan texts. She had told him that they coexisted long ago, so there had to be some evidence hidden deep in the bowels of the library. If there was proof anywhere, it was here.

“Of course!” Abdu said excitedly and pointed to the far left wall. “Species naturally go extinct all the time. If that interests you, check out our history section over there.”

Nia and T’Challa both cataloged that information for later and started mentally planning their next visits.

The deeper they traveled into the vast library, a tingling grew in Nia’s stomach. There was great power there, and she could feel it. The tingling intensified as they arrived at a large door with an image of Thoth that had been hand-carved by artisans long ago.

“We’ll take it from here, Okoye,” T’Challa ordered, and the general nodded before standing at attention with her back to the door. Then, his eyes fell to Nia. “Ready?”

“I think…”

“That’ll serve you well here,” Abdu joked as he pushed open the heavy door.

Nia wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting to see, but a winding staircase certainly wasn’t on her list of possibilities. The three of them quietly descended the steps, and all that could be heard was the sounds of their sandals connecting with the stone as they went. After what seemed like forever, Abdu came to a halt at another large door and turned to face his visitors.

“You must enter with pure intentions and a cool head, or he will not answer. Understood?”

Nia and T’Challa answered in unison.

“Yes, sir.”

“Of course.”

“Good,” Abdu smiled at them and reached for the handle, pushing it open and revealing what looked to be a private study. The lamps along the stone walls lit up when they entered, and Nia was once again amazed at how the ancient seemed to flawlessly combine with the modern. As she looked around, she noticed that instead of books, there were scrolls stacked neatly on the shelves. A high-backed chair sat behind a large wooden desk with several scrolls strewn about it, and in the center of the room, there was a stone lectern that looked like it had been there since the dawn of time. Colorful pillows surrounded it on the floor, and next to it stood another statue of Thoth. This time, his hands were out and he was holding a staff that resembled the one from the statue out front, except this one was made of gold. This one was real, and it made the hairs on the back of Nia’s neck stand at attention.

Abdu made his way over to the closest shelf and grabbed a scroll from the top of the stack. He then crossed the room again and stood behind the lectern. When he unrolled the scroll, Nia and T’Challa were both surprised to find that it was blank. They watched with bated breath as he produced a shiny gold pen from his pocket and removed the staff from the statue’s arms.

“You two, come sit down,” Abdu said to them, pointing to the floor pillows.

They obeyed his order, and each grabbed a pillow. T’Challa sat cross-legged while Nia carefully placed her new basket on the floor and tucked her feet under her. They waited patiently while Abdu mumbled a prayer under his breath. Despite T’Challa’s enhanced hearing, he could barely make out what Abdu was saying, but the more he spoke, the colder the room became. The priest continued his prayers for several minutes until the staff began to glow with blinding orange light and his mouth snapped shut tight. A soft breeze blew through the room as his eyes glowed the same color as the staff, and the pen in his left hand started to frantically scribble words onto the formerly blank scroll. His hand moved faster than humanly possible, and Nia recognized what was happening as a possession. She bowed her head in the god’s presence and nudged T’Challa in his side to do the same. He followed suit, but neither of their eyes left Abdu, too curious to look away.

It seemed like forever had come and gone as the two sat in silence, watching in awe while Abdu filled the scroll as he channeled Thoth. The only sound that filled the air was the fast-moving pen on the papyrus and a faint humming from the staff, but suddenly, it all stopped. The staff’s light waned, and Abdu blinked his eyes back to their normal shade of hazel. He carefully placed the staff back in the statue’s hands and read over the words he had been given from his god. A frown appeared on the priest’s face, and Nia made eye contact with T’Challa. Neither one felt good news was coming.

“Well,” Abdu broke the tense silence, “to sum it up, it seems Thoth hasn’t seen or heard from Bast in several weeks. He says that’s very unlike her, as I’m sure you know, T’Challa.”

The king nodded. “Is there anything else? Did he say where she might be?”

“Oh, he said plenty, but not about your question. He can be quite long-winded at times,” Abdu murmured as he scanned the text once more to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. He then looked down at his two visitors with an apology in his eyes. “I wish I could’ve been of more help.”

T’Challa stood from his seated position and reached a hand out to Nia. She swatted it away and stood on her own, straightening out her long, flowing skirt before sending Abdu a warm smile. “Thank you for trying.”

“It was a pleasure, my dear.”

“So,” Nia turned to the king, “where to next?”

--------

The smile never left Okoye’s face as she landed the Talon in an open field and proudly led them to their next destination. They had traveled to Okoye’s hometown in the Mining province, and she nodded at her former neighbors as they waved to get her attention. It wasn’t often that she could return to Birnin Djata, but since she was on duty, she had to remain professional.

The town was much smaller than Birnin Zana, and the walk to the temple was much shorter this time around. A few moderately-sized dwellings lined the road to the temple, and Nia could see the town square in the distance. They passed groups of miners boarding and exiting the trains that took them to and from work, and Nia couldn’t help but wonder what all that vibranium looked like up close.

When they arrived at the temple, Nia was pleasantly surprised that this one actually looked like a place of worship. The wall that surrounded it looked as old as time, but the vibranium door in the center had to be no more than a hundred years old. A strange sound echoed from inside, and although Nia thought she recognized it, she was confused on why it was coming from a temple of all places.

“Is something wrong? What’s going on in there?” she asked with concern, making Okoye’s smile expand and her eyes light up.

“Sparring.”

Nia’s confusion grew, and she turned to T’Challa for clarification.

“Kokou is the god of war. Fighters often train here, and many of his followers go on to become great warriors. Including Okoye,” he explained.

“Ohhh, ok.”

Okoye led them up the temple’s steps, and Nia’s attention was drawn to the rows of fire that lined the walkway. As the party of three got closer to the doors, they slowly parted to grant them access. Loud shouts and grunts came from the right, and Okoye led them down the hallway, directly towards the noise.

Nia watched excitedly as the warriors-in-training sparred with one another. Fists connected with flesh, spears sliced through the air, and fighters seemed to glide across the padded floor. She recognized some of the fighting styles and thought back to her younger days when Amare took it upon himself to teach her some of the combat skills he had to learn for his days as a secret operative. Even though she was a healer, Nia sure was scrappy and could hold her own. It had been a while, though, and she was sure she had forgotten her training over the years.

A bell rang on the other side of the training room, and all of the fighting ceased. Okoye bowed her head in deference as a tall, muscular older woman in red emerged from an observation room and smiled softly in her direction.

“My king,” the woman saluted T’Challa, making all of the fighters whip their heads around and salute him as well. The woman crossed the floor as her trainees stood at attention, and grabbed Okoye’s hands in hers. “Okoye, my dear, it has been too long.”

“Priestess Yaa, how good to see you.”

“And my king, welcome to the Temple of Kokou.”

“Thank you, priestess.”

“What brings you here?” she asked before shooting a sly glance at Okoye. “You never come visit anymore, so I know it must be important.”

“My apologies for keeping her from you,” T’Challa interjected.

“None needed. I knew when Okoye became general that she would have little time for us anymore,” Yaa waved him off and smiled proudly at Okoye before her eyes fell to Nia. “And who is this?”

“Nia Olu,” she respectfully bowed her head.

“And you are a fighter too, no?”

“Um, not exactly. My father taught me how to fight when I was young, but I am a healer and a devotee of Bast.”

This was the first T’Challa had heard of her knowledge of combat, and he wondered what else he didn’t know about her.

“I’m sure it’s still in there somewhere. You have a warrior’s spirit.”

Nia was surprised by the priestess’ comment but thanked her nonetheless.

“Priestess Yaa, we have a problem that you might be able to help us solve,” the king stated.

Yaa nodded and called to her class, “Keep sparring. I’ll be back.”

The room came alive again, and Nia couldn’t help but watch the dozens of bodies moving about with powerful grace as they fought.

Yaa gestured for them to follow her, and she led them around a corner to get away from all the noise. “How can I help you, my king?”

“Bast is missing, and we would like to ask Kokou if he knows where she is,” he cut straight to the point, and Yaa appreciated his brevity.

She gestured again, and the four of them relocated to the other side of the temple. They entered a large, empty room with nothing except a wall of ancient weapons and a huge, raging fire pit in the center.

“This eternal flame was gifted to us by Kokou many millennia ago as a way of contacting him,” Yaa narrated. “In order for him to answer, you will each have to give a sacrifice.”

“I didn’t bring anything to-”

“Blood, dear. You sacrifice blood. He is the god of war, after all,” Yaa chuckled as she glided over to the wall of weapons. Her fingers danced along the flat side of the blade of a vibranium dagger with a red and gold hilt before wrapping her hand firmly around the grip and removing it from its position. Yaa tested the weight of it in her hand as she rejoined the group. Without warning, she sliced her palm open and allowed her blood to drip into the flame. The priestess noticed the look of horror on Nia’s face and attempted to quell her fears. “Don’t worry; you’ll only need a drop or two.”

Okoye was first to step up, pressing the dagger’s tip into her hand and drawing a small amount of blood. She handed the dagger to T’Challa as she made a fist and let her blood droplets fall into the fire pit. The king did the same before passing the dagger to Nia. She looked at it apprehensively, but T’Challa continued to hold it out for her to take.

“Go on, dear,” Yaa urged. “We will heal you up after.”

Nia and T’Challa locked eyes as they were both reminded of the night they became reacquainted with one another. T’Challa’s wound would quickly heal on its own, but she wouldn’t be able to use her powers to heal herself in Yaa’s and Okoye’s presence. She took a deep breath and tried to ignore the feeling of her palm stinging with the memory of alcohol pads. T’Challa knew where her mind had wandered to and took her formerly injured hand in his as he ran his thumb over her palm.

“It won’t be as bad as last time,” he whispered so only Nia could hear him. “Just a little cut, ok?”

Nia’s mouth dried up, and her eyes traveled to Okoye and Yaa. The priestess seemed intrigued by his tenderness towards her, but the irritation on Okoye’s face was clear as day. Nia remembered that he was a serial charmer and removed her hand from his. She reached for the dagger and quickly pricked her finger, squeezing a couple of droplets into the flame.

Yaa set the dagger aside to be cleaned and watched as the flames grew in intensity. All four of them stepped back when the fire surged towards the sky and took the vague shape of a man.

“Kokou,” Yaa fell to her knees, and the others followed her lead. “Thank you for answering our call.”

“Where is the fight?” his voice boomed around the expansive room as what looked to be his head swiveled from side to side taking in the four who summoned him. He had no eyes, but Nia felt his gaze land on her and linger for a moment too long.

“There is no fight this time, but we have an inquiry,” Yaa said as she stood.

“Very well,” Kokou’s voice rang out again, and the flames whipped in T’Challa’s direction. “What is so important that the king requires my assistance? Have you not a god of your own?”

T’Challa looked to Yaa for reassurance as he began to stand, and she nodded for him to continue. “Yes, I do, but she is missing.”

“Missing?! What do you mean missing?”

“She has not spoken to me in weeks, and Thoth has not seen or heard from her either.”

Kokou turned back to Nia. “And you have not heard from her?”

“No, sir,” Nia stood tall as she answered him.

“I am surprised she has not spoken to you of all...people,” he said with a mischievous lilt in his voice. Nia stilled as she realized that he knew what she was. She slyly made eye contact with T’Challa, and though his expression was unreadable, she knew he had to have heard it, too.

“You know, blood can tell you a lot about a person...or being,” Kokou began to pace around the large fire pit. “Who they are, what their lineage is...you, Nia, are very special. But I am sure you know that already, don’t you?”

Nia ignored the confused stares from Yaa and Okoye and stared straight into where she assumed Kokou’s eyes to be. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

“Kokou-”

“Patience, your highness,” the god chastised T’Challa, “I was getting to it. I just had to take a little detour first since you brought me such an interesting young lady. Now, to answer your question: sorry to disappoint, but no. I do not know where Bast is. I wish I did, though; she is an excellent sparring partner.”

Nia and T’Challa both deflated a little bit. They had hoped for a better answer than that.

“Thank you, Kokou,” T’Challa spoke with his head bowed to the god. The others did the same, and just as quickly as he had appeared, Kokou was gone.

--------

“Third time’s the charm,” T’Challa mumbled as he held the intricate iron gate open. Nia and Okoye walked through, and the general was blown away by the beauty before them. The botanical gardens sat on a protected stretch of land on the border between the Mining and River provinces, but people from all over the country traveled there to witness its splendor.

Nia, however, was no stranger to the gardens. She made sure to visit a few times a year just to sit and commune with the diverse group of plants, but she never knew it doubled as a place of worship. She liked that the gardens were never full of people, and depending on how deep she veered off the main walkways, she could avoid the public altogether. Except for the delightful presence of one of the attendants, Nia always managed to find solitude and serenity among the plants of the botanical gardens.

“Has this always been Mujaji’s temple?” she asked as the three of them followed the long, winding path that led to the greenhouses in the back of the gardens.

“As far as I’m aware. Why?”

“It’s just that I’ve been here before, and I never knew. I always felt like there was...something here, but I just assumed I was feeling the energy from all of the plants.”

“You can do that?” Okoye asked, and she caught another shared glance between Nia and the king. They had been doing that all day, and she was growing tired of it.

Nia opened her mouth to try to fix her slip-up, but she was saved when a young woman about her age emerged from behind a mango tree and recognized her colorful headwrap.

“Nia?”

“Sukutai!”

Nia ran over to her, and the women embraced. A smile crept up T’Challa’s cheeks at seeing Nia’s faint glow again, but, unfortunately, it seemed that Okoye might have seen it as well. The king ignored her pointed stares and continued to watch Nia and the woman from afar.

“What are you doing here? It’s been months since I saw you last!” Sukutai playfully scolded her before leaning in like she had a secret to tell. “You have to see the new fire lily blooms; I know they’re your favorite.”

“They are,” Nia chuckled, “but I’m here on business today.”

“Business?”

Nia gestured behind her, and Sukutai’s eyes widened in shock as she finally noticed T’Challa and Okoye standing in the distance.

“My apologies, my king,” she quickly saluted him, but he waved her off.

“None needed. Any friend of Nia’s is a friend of mine.”

Sukutai’s eyebrows almost reached her hairline as she turned back to Nia. “I know we don’t know each other very well, but how come you never told me you knew the king?”

“He’s new,” Nia shrugged nonchalantly.

Sukutai shook her head fondly at her friend as T’Challa and Okoye came to stand next to her.

“What brings you to my humble garden, your highness?”

“I would say this is anything but humble, priestess,” he chuckled. This time it was Nia’s turn to be surprised.

“Priestess?!”

“Yeah, I don’t like to advertise it,” Sukutai shrugged.

“Well, I guess we both have our secrets,” Nia teased, making her friend giggle.

“I guess we do.”

“Sukutai, we are here because we need to speak with Mujaji. Bast is missing and-”

“You need to see if he knows where she is.”

“Yes,” T’Challa nodded.

“Right this way,” Sukutai said as she stuck her elbow out for Nia. She wrapped her arm around it, and the two of them took off, chatting about the flora they passed on the way.

Sukutai led them to the back of the botanical gardens towards the greenhouses. There were several smaller ones scattered around that were about the size of Nia’s home, but the very last greenhouse was huge. It stood about two stories tall and expanded across an acre of land.

“How did I miss this?” Nia wondered aloud.

“You weren’t looking for it,” Sukutai winked. “Too distracted by the pretty flowers, as usual.”

“You should really pay more attention to your surroundings, Nia,” T’Challa teased, and she narrowed her eyes at him. Despite the fact that she was still very hesitant to trust Nia, Okoye had to stifle a chuckle at her attitude. It was refreshing for her to see a woman that seemed to be immune to his charms.

The four of them entered the greenhouse, and Nia was amazed at what she saw. Instead of beautiful flowers and lush trees and bushes, there were rows and rows of crops.

“I knew you had some fruit trees, but I didn’t know you grew other foods here, too,” she said with her mouth wide open.

“We have to. Who do you think taught us how to work the land?”

Nia nodded as she soaked up Sukutai’s words. It had never occurred to her that the humans had to learn agriculture from somewhere...or someone. She wondered if aziza had learned from him, too, and if so, why hadn’t she heard about it? Were their history books incomplete, too? Nia’s train of thought was cut short as they arrived at the center of the greenhouse. There was a large patch of soil surrounded by an old stone wall no more than two feet tall. A small plaque near the opening caught the visitors’ eyes, and they crowded around to read it.

“The first garden?” Nia gasped, and her eyes traveled to the rich soil.

Sukutai smiled proudly, “That’s right. This is where Wakandans first learned how to grow sorghum. Mujaji’s magic still inhabits the land, and he allows us to speak to him through it.”

“How does it work?” T’Challa asked, equally in awe of the plot of land that allowed his people to prosper. Yes, they had vibranium, but what use would that be without the ability to feed themselves? Had they remained hunter-gatherers, they never would have gotten to where they are today.

“I’ll show you,” Sukutai said as she untied her shoes. “Nia, would you like to help?”

“M-me?”

“Yes, you, silly. You have the heart and hands of a gardener.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“First thing’s first, shoes off,” Sukutai instructed, and Nia slid out of her sandals. “Now, you see those jars full of seeds over there?”

Sukutai gestured behind them, and they all turned around to follow her line of vision.

“Yes,” Nia’s voice shook as she spoke.

“Don’t worry about what each one is. Just go pick whichever one calls to you.”

Nia nodded and padded her way over to the table covered in glass jars. She felt the power radiating from each one, but she felt compelled to pick up a small jar full of green coffee beans. Her hand instinctively reached out to touch it, but she pulled back and looked to the priestess for permission.

“Go ahead, take one,” Sukutai urged, and Nia carefully screwed the top off. She reached in and grabbed one of the beans, and walked back over to Sukutai.

“Ok, how does this work?”

“We start with a yes or no question. Let’s try ‘Do you know where Bast is?’ and go from there, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Follow me.”

Sukutai stepped onto the sacred land, and Nia did the same. The ground seemed to vibrate, and Nia’s face lit up. The slight glow returned to her skin, and this time Okoye was sure in what her eyes beheld. She quickly turned towards T’Challa, who looked at her out of the corner of his eye but kept quiet. He shifted his weight away from her nervously and continued to watch Nia and Sukutai work.

“You feel it too, huh?” Sukutai asked with a sly smile on her face.

“It feels...it feels like my feet are buzzing.”

Sukutai’s head cocked to the side, and her eyes narrowed as she tried to understand exactly what was happening. Nia obviously wasn’t a priestess of Mujaji, yet his magic spoke to her in some way. That wasn’t normal, and neither was the faint highlight that appeared on her skin.

“Yeah, it does,” she agreed and shook the suspicions out of her head. She knelt to the ground, and Nia followed suit. “Hold the seed in your hands, close to your face- yes, just like that. Now, close your eyes and let it feel your energy. When you are ready, speak to it. Ask your question.”

Nia shut her eyes and focused on the feeling of the seed in her hands. She pictured it growing big and strong, and after a few moments, her mouth was filled with the taste of coffee. It was ready. She brought it closer to her lips and whispered, “Do you know where Bast is?”

When she peeled her eyes open, she saw a huge grin on Sukutai’s face.

“You’re a natural.”

“Thanks,” Nia giggled. “What now?”

“Now you plant it.”

“Anywhere?”

“Wherever you choose.”

Nia studied the ground around her and turned a little to the left. She held the seed in her left hand as she made a small mound in the dirt with her right. She gave the seed one last glance before pushing it into the soil.

“No water?” she asked.

Sukutai shook her head with a mischievous smile, “No need.”

“Ok...so now we wait?”

“It won’t take long. Usually about-” Sukutai’s eyes widened. “Look!”

Four sets of eyes trained on the tiny green sprout that pushed up from the ground.

“It’s never happened that fast before.”

The sprout turned into a seedling, and the seedling matured right before their eyes. Just as hope began to fill the air, it left, and the coffee plant shriveled up. The leaves turned brown, then a murky black before decomposing entirely. Everyone’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and silence descended upon the group. Without even asking, they all knew it was a resounding “no.”

--------

The silence was thick on the ride back to Nia’s. Okoye flew the Talon with a million questions running through her mind, all of which seemed to come back to Nia. Who is she? What is she?

Nia left her position by the window, no longer interested in the ground below, and met T’Challa by his sand table. She watched for a moment as the molecules dispersed and recollected themselves in the shapes of the temples they just visited and the gods they just contacted. He chewed on his lip as he tried to put the pieces together, but there just wasn’t enough information.

“T’Challa?” Nia spoke softly to keep Okoye from hearing.

“Hm?” he grunted without looking up.

“What if the problem isn't in this realm?”

The king tore his eyes away from the table, and the sand fell flat.

“You are suggesting we go to the magic realm?”

“Again with the ‘we,’” she sighed. “No, I’m suggesting I go to the magic realm.”

He stared at her blankly for a moment before calling out to Okoye, “General?”

“Yes, my king?”

“You will travel back to the palace alone-”

“No-” Nia tried to stop him.

“I will be staying with Nia a little while longer. I will call when I need you.”

“Yes, my king.”

Nia dragged her hand down her face, then immediately looked down and noticed the clay that had transferred to her palm. She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned in frustration, both at the king and at her careless mistake.

“T’Challa, I just said-”

“I know what you said,” he snipped, “but this is my kingdom, and I need to know what’s going on.”

“But-”

“I’m going with you, and that’s final.” He turned away and joined Okoye in the cockpit.

Nia sat off to the side and pouted the rest of the way home. When they arrived, Okoye reluctantly left the king behind and flew off to the palace.

“She could’ve just stayed outside, you know,” Nia fussed as they entered her home. “Now she definitely knows something is up.”

He rolled his eyes, “She knew something was up the moment you started glowing.”

Nia froze and mentally kicked herself for not using the glamor spell her ubaba had taught her. She was in such a rush that morning that it completely slipped her mind. The smug look on T’Challa’s face made her want to slap him, so she stormed down the hall to her bathroom to fix her facepaint. As soon as she finished, Nia heard the king make a strange noise and looked out to see what he had done. A laugh erupted from her belly as she watched the king stand on the couch to get away from Sego. He glared at her, but his eyes promptly fell back on the python that was too close for comfort.

“Call off your snake!”

“Python,” she giggled. “Sego, stop messing with him, please.”

Sego turned her way, and Nia could see the playful look in his eyes. He thoroughly enjoyed messing with the king. T’Challa climbed down from the couch and let out a calming breath as Sego slithered away to the kitchen.

“So the mighty Black Panther is scared of pythons, huh?” she mocked him as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Not scared...I just don’t like them.”

“Mhm. If it makes you feel any better, he’s not fully a python. He’s a shifter.”

“Meaning…”

“Meaning sometimes he’s in his human form, sometimes he’s in his python form.”

T’Challa thought about it for a moment. “Actually, that does make me feel better. Thanks.”

Nia smirked and rolled her eyes.

“So,” T’Challa cleared his throat, “what now?”

“First, we go see my ubaba, then the queen.”

“Ok...how do we, you know, get there?”

“It’s easy,” she bragged as she walked over to him. “Give me your hand, and I’ll show you.”

Nia reached out to him, and when their hands connected, an image of the two of them sharing a feverish kiss popped into her mind. She gasped and pulled back as though she had touched a hot stove.

“What is it?!”

“N-nothing, I just,” she had to think of something quick. “My headwrap. I take it off when I go to the magic realm...to, uh, let my ears breathe, you know?”

“Um, ok.”

Nia hurried from the room and left T’Challa standing there, confused about what just happened. He knew she was lying despite the fact that her excuse had some semblance of truth to it. Thanks to the heart-shaped herb, T’Challa could hear her heartbeat, and something had caused her heart to almost beat out of her chest. His suspicions didn’t last for long, though, because when she came back from her room, his jaw dropped. Of course, he had noticed her beauty the first time, well the second time, he laid eyes on her, but as she came down the hallway fluffing her coils out into an afro that framed her face like an obsidian halo, he felt a knot form in his chest.

“Ready?” she asked, obviously over whatever had been bothering her.

“Yeah,” T’Challa cleared his throat. He was suddenly parched. “Ready.”

“Ok.” She grabbed his hands again, but this time there was no vision. Nia sighed in relief and looked him dead in his eyes as the atmosphere around them began to thicken. “Be cool. Don’t embarrass me.”

Next Chapter

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @dersha89, @impremenior, @ljstraightnochaser, @love--life--passion, @yourstrulybrii

[writing-in-april]

Georgia Peach

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer POV)

Summary: Spencer sees Reader eating a peach and goes a little crazy.

A/N: this was a long time coming- ive been writing this oneshot for forever and I finally finished it! The original prompt is from @imagining-in-the-margins and I also incorporated a request for a pearl necklace from @sunlight-moonrise This fic was also written for @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff so I could give them some gender neutral smut! Most of my fluff is gender neutral but until now I hadn’t dived into writing gender neutral smut. I’ll definitely be writing more in the future- I like writing stuff that is as inclusive as possible! There shouldn’t be any mistakes in terms of pronouns- I had a ton of people look at it, but if there is please message me!If you live in Georgia don’t forget to vote in the Georgia state runoff elections!

Warnings: Sub!Spencer, Topping from the bottom, Very slight food play, Face Fucking, Pearl necklace, Pubic sex (sorta), Unprotected sex

Main Masterlist Word count: 2.9k

I was pretty sure I was going to explode just from looking at Y/N. They weren’t doing anything that was infuriating, annoying, or even anything that most would consider sexual in nature. They had decided that a peach brought in by one of the Georgia detectives was the best way to relieve their parched mouth caused by the blistering heat. The mundane act of eating a peach combined with the deep v neck that adorned their figure was apparently enough to make my slacks uncomfortably tight.

Get it together Spencer.

My inner voice was slapping me upside the head repeatedly, trying in vain to break me out of the daydream I had found myself immersed in. I swept the sweat off of my brow while continuing to unabashedly stare at Y/N. I knew that I needed to draw my eyes away from Y/N and focus on the case file that was sitting on my lap. But, just as I was about to tear my eyes away from them they took a large bite of the delicate skin of the white peach causing juice to dribble down their chin.

I’m screwed.

Subtly was not a strong suit of mine. That became painfully obvious when my eyes widened to the max in an attempt to see every detail of the erotic picture I was painting in my mind. The picture became clearer in my mind as another bite was taken out of the supple fruit. The juice escaped their mouth again, however this time a new path was taken when the liquid fell past their chin. The drop of nectar slid down past the juncture of their collarbones, falling perfectly down the point of the v on their shirt, almost as if it was carefully planned and executed. My mind wandered further than I thought possible when images flashed before my eyes of Y/N covered in something different, but similarly sticky. I was so transfixed at the sight that I didn’t notice the coy smile being flashed my way from across the room.

“You alright Dr. Reid?” I could hear the coquettish voice but it sounded like it was 1000 miles away. Everything had become muffled, the only sound I could clearly hear was the thrumming of my heart beat in my ears. I gulped hard, trying and failing to distance myself from my thoughts.

A loud snap in front of my face from the culprit of my dirty thoughts cleared my mind just enough to refocus on the person in front of me. The visage of Y/N still had me in a haze of lust that I couldn’t shake but, I did find some strength within myself to respond, “Y-yeah I’m alright Y/N just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nnn-Nothing, don’t worry about it.” My tone had risen to a high pitch and that along with my stuttering instantly gave away that something was brewing in my head. And, Y/N was good at reading me, they’d always been able to pick out how I felt in a few sentences or less. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d picked up how turned on I was right away.

Yeah, I’m totally screwed.

It was now so silent you could hear a pin drop. I tried to slow down my breathing that had picked up some minutes ago due to the mounting tension in my trousers. Sadly, despite my efforts I could not calm down, my trousers still felt way too tight and now everything felt hot. My face was probably bright red right now from the burning heat coursing through my veins, which would just end up being another signal to Y/N that something was amiss.

I tugged at the edge of my collar trying another way to reduce tension in my body as now the skinny tie I wore felt too tight on my neck. Immediately my mind jumped away to- I wish their hand was on my neck.

During my efforts to ease the tension in my body I must have failed to notice the fact that Y/N was still staring at me. A shudder was sent down my spine when I finally peaked my eyes up from the hands that held the peach to their eyes which felt like they were boring into my thoughts and reading everything.

I wanted to crawl into a hole and never leave. There was no doubt in my mind Y/N had sensed my arousal by now and I’m pretty sure I looked even brighter than a cherry as I started to stumble out an apology. I couldn’t even get one full word out before they had set down the offending fruit and made their way over to me. The chair that I had been sitting in was a swivel chair which Y/N took full advantage of by spinning me around to face them. Their chest was bent over to come down to my sitting form but instead of focusing where their face was my eyes were firmly fixated again on the sliver of skin still glistening with the juice from the peach.

I just wanted to lick it off.

My mind had again been so lost in lust that I didn’t notice that they were now so close to me that I could feel their breath mixing with my own and all my mind was focused on was tasting the sweet nectar that I knew still sat on their tongue. Like a man possessed I tried to lean forward hungrily at Y/N to relieve the undeniable but silent tension we had created. However, suddenly my arm was being pulled out of the conference room by them leading me down the path to the archive room. The city we were stationed in for the case was definitely behind technologically, so much so that they still kept all their files on paper. The old files from cold or closed cases were then schlepped into this forgotten archive room that I was being led to like a lost puppy by Y/N.

I stumbled in after Y/N into the archive room that was pitch black. They dropped their hold on my hand as soon as the door shut behind me making me grope around in the dark looking for some guidance. I heard the distinctive click and their skin was then illuminated by the glow of the singular lightbulb that hung in the center of the small room that Y/N turned on.

“Do you want this Spencer?” They said while strutting over slowly to me, I apprehend the offer of being able to back out but it was an offer I would definitely not be taking. As soon as my head nodded in agreement their mouth was on mine in the most blissful kiss I had ever had the pleasure of taking part in.

The taste of our tongues intermingling was overwhelmingly peach as I was finally able to get a taste of Y/N. Their movements were much more calculated compared to my sloppy desperate attempt to control the kiss. With practiced ease they dominated and I willfully surrendered to whatever Y/N wanted me to do to them. A shudder came into my bones as Y/N pressed me up into the nearest walland then untucked my shirt to run teasing little circles with their left hand over my hip bones.

The kiss was cut way too short in my opinion as they released my lips and then teasingly put their thumb into my mouth. I swirled my lips around their thumb with an intense pout, I tried to look as pitiful as possible, trying to coax them to stay right there with me. Unfortunately they pulled away from me altogether and then sauntered over to where the short filing cabinets were sat in the room, making my pout deepen further then I thought possible .

“Aww- don’t pout you’ll get what you want.” They said before leaving me, the mocking tone in their voice only making me pout harder. Any complaint I had  died in my throat when they pushed their pants and underwear down swiftly. They obviously had a better understanding of the fact that this tryst had to go quickly- and hopefully quietly. The closest filing cabinet to Y/N then became a prop for them to balance so they could bend over seductively. And with a simple crook of their finger I was over behind them ready to service them the best I could. My pants undone and pulled down enough to pull my cock out, jerking myself slightly so I was fully hard and ready to wrap them around me.

Wait. Was this really happening?

I questioned myself as I pushed into them from behind slowly wanting to savor every moment I had with Y/N wrapped around me and- also to also convince myself that this wasn’t a wild figment of my imagination. However, my long drawn out thrust was cut short by Y/N pushing their hips back against me taking me all the way down to the hilt. As soon as I was fully sheathed inside of them I started to rock my hips into theirs with little whimpers falling from my lips. If I had been in a different state of mind, one that wasn’t desperately trying to seek release, I would have probably flushed red in embarrassment at the noises I was making.

“Oh! Good Boy, Spencer.” They groaned out as I picked up the pace, my hands then briefly left their hips to pull them back so their back was flush against mine. The change in angle of my thrusts seemingly made Y/N’s pleasure skyrocket, the praises that they had been giving out to me being muddled down into moans that they muffled with their hand. I could tell their release was close when they let their head drop backwards into the crook of my neck and began to meet my thrusts vigorously.

A deep guttural groan came out of my chest as Y/N wound their other arm around behind them to tug on my hair as they came to their release. Pure bliss fell across Y/N’s face along with a lazy smile while they rode out the waves of their release. I kept rocking my hips forward to prolong their pleasure but my own release was beginning to brew within me.

Y/N reached behind to rest their hands on top of mine, they had been gripping into the sides of their hips roughly enough that there were sure to be bruises. They had me pull out, I almost thought they weren’t going to let me finish and began to beg with a long drawn out whine. Y/N flashed me another one of their devilish smirks, no doubt in response to my whimpers. Another pathetic beg slipped past my lips before my mind went completely blank as soon as they dropped to their knees.

“Fuck- Spencer I want you to fuck my face.” A sharp and sudden groan tore through me at their words, I swear Y/N was going to be the death of me. I bobbed my head up and down nodding as quick as I could, probably a little too eagerly but, I couldn’t find it within myself to care. “Like I said- you’ll get what you want.”

Y/N then spit in their hand and started to jerk me off slightly- I could honestly cum like this and be completely satisfied. But, then they moved forward and licked up the length of my shaft before slightly sucking on my tip.

The feeling of their mouth just enveloping my tip made me feel like I had died and gone to heaven.

Holy shit this was really happening.

A choked moan started to fall from my mouth before I quickly tried to stifle it by biting into my fist. My other hand was manipulated by Y/N to rest at the back of their head, a nonverbal queue to let me know I could start doing what they wanted and fuck their face.

The thrusts I started off with were quite soft and shallow, even though they had requested that I do this to them I still never wanted to hurt them.

I almost pulled them off of me when I heard a soft gagging as the tip of my dick hit the back of their throat, but they held their own throat down on me making a high pitched whine that didn’t sound like it could come from me came falling from my lips.

After getting the chance to fuck Y/N and now their mouth was around me, I was going to finish embarrassingly quickly. My thrusts started to falter, I could feel my release in the base of my spine, threatening to spill at any moment.

“W-where can I-” I tried to stutter out before finishing, though I failed miserably, my approaching orgasm stifling the words.

Luckily, Y/N understood perfectly and pulled off of me to answer, “I want you to cum on me my chest, face, neck- wherever you want.” A deep seated groan rumbled through my chest at their words while they jerked my length. Y/N worked kisses up my thighs bringing me teetering on the edge about to fall into a pool of euphoria. When they pressed a kiss to the tip of my cock I fell into my orgasm and became blinded by the pleasure. I was fortunately still able to keep my eyes open to see Y/N get covered with the fruits of their labor. It was a filthy sight that made my eyes widen and my pupils blow wider then they had ever been before.

A few moments passed as we both caught our breath, each for different reasons. My gaze was still fixated on how my release had fallen over Y/N. Specifically I fixated on the spot where some had fallen down their chest right down where the v of their shirt had been before- right where the juice had slid down.

“Well I should’ve thought this through more… I don’t have anything to clean myself up.” Y/N gasped out in giggles breaking out of the dominant role that they had fallen into earlier which broke me out of the daze I had been in. I looked at them with endearment, I loved every facet of Y/N’s personality.

“I-I’ll be right back I’ll find something.” I stuttered out while basically stumbling back into my clothes. Before tripping out of the room to try and locate some tissues I did my best to make myself appear presentable again, taming my curls, smoothing out my shirt, and tucking it back into my slacks.

“You forgot something.” Y/N called out to me just as I was about to scurry out. Still naked and unclean, they held my belt up by one finger and had a teasing little smile on their face that was nothing but trouble. I walked up and quickly snatched the belt back and began to loop them through my slacks. My head was tilted down, suddenly growing shy at the sight of Y/N even though I had been the one to make them look so depraved in the first place.

“Now come on Spencer, stop being so shy. You weren’t shy 2 minutes ago.” The way they bit their lip at the end of the teasing remark made me want to get down on my knees and worship them. Sadly, work was calling both of our names pulling us out of our own little world that we had created in this dark, small- and slightly dusty archive room.

I gained back a little bit of my lost confidence and moved forward to envelop Y/N in a kiss, one that was much softer than our previous ones. The taste of the kiss still felt like a drop of golden sun from the peaches, albeit tainted with something a little more salty now.

“You taste good.” I said with a shy but knowing smirk before biting my lip. “You look good too but- you also look like trouble.”

“Yes, but you quite like trouble” They remarked in amusement before shoving me closer to the door, “Go on now, I can't stay naked covered in your cum for the rest of the day.”

“It would be a pretty sight though.” I said cheekily, slipping out of the room quickly to avoid one of their shoes being thrown at me in fake annoyance. As I left the room to hunt down something to clean Y/N up so we could go about the rest of our work day I came to a conclusion.

I quite enjoy trouble- and peaches.