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#It suits him to be on his knees 🥴 🥴 🥴

twinkodium · 6 months

Note

how do u think oscar would feel about hittin it from the back

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝓇𝑒𝑒𝓃-𝑒𝓎𝑒𝒹 𝑀𝑜𝓃𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇 (𝒪𝒫)

ᥫ᭡ Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Fem!reader

ᥫ᭡ Warning: ‼️ unprotected rough sex, slight choking, bruised body parts, jealous!Oscar 😉 ‼️

ᥫ᭡ Genre: Smut

ᥫ᭡ Word count: 3,1K

ᥫ᭡ A/N: first ever smut, pls be nice to me 🥺 let me down gently okay? (I’ve struggle a lot to write the sex scene…🥴) All kind of comments are appreciated just don’t be rude. I’d like to learn and improve, so encouraging everyone who reads this to reach out if you have any opinions 😘 big shoutout to my girl @lattesqueeze for beta reading, helping and supporting me through this journey 🧡

‼️+18 content under the cut! Minors, please, do not interact ‼️

You’re his date for a fancy event neither of you want to attend, but it’s obligatory. You’re wearing a tight, sleeveless dress that hugs and compliments your body perfectly, with all your curves emphasized by the dark blue, half-length dress, ending just above your knees. Matching it with pretty black heels makes your legs look insanely long. You’re extremely pretty, such a gorgeous sight. Oscar can’t keep his eyes off you all night, completely turned on and trying his best not to drag you into a dark room and bend you over on whatever furniture is available. You’re no better either. You can’t resist ogling him in his fancy and perfectly tailored suit. The black material sharpens his usually soft features, turning him into a breath-takingly handsome hottie. His crisp, white shirt stretches and pulls slightly over his toned torso with his every move. You prefer traditional ties over bow ties, it’s easier to grab onto, to pull Oscar down for a kiss. Fluffy, longer hair frames his round face, his fringe falling across his eyes as he walks.

Unfortunately, Oscar’s not the only one noticing your breathtaking beauty. He swears he only left your side for ten seconds, but a guy is already plastered to you, checking you out like you’re a piece of meat he’s about to devour. Jealousy and anger run through his veins as he quickly walks back to you. Possessively pulling you to his side, he presses a kiss to your temple before looking at the guy. He levels the stranger with a frown and a single arched eyebrow, waiting patiently for an answer, or at least an introduction of who the hell he is. You bite your lower lip looking at his handsome face, all hot and overprotective. Your desire for him is off the scale, your panties already soaked. You have to focus so hard to contain yourself and not let out a moan. Oscar reads your body language easily, knows exactly how flushed and needy you are.

The flirtatious man is long forgotten as Oscar navigates you through the maze of well-known and popular figures in the motorsport world. His anger didn’t disappear fully, only urging him to get you home as soon as possible. He needs to release his frustration in the best way he knows how. A shiver runs down his spine thinking about all the naughty things he’s going to do to you right after you step into your shared apartment. If you’re confused by his urgent need for leaving the event, you don’t mention it, way too excited to get your hands on him. Who would have thought seeing him all cleaned up nicely in a suit and worked up by jealousy would have this much effect on you? Barely able to stand on your own, your legs are already shaking from anticipation and he hasn’t even touched you yet, just keeping his hand on your lower back.

A little yelp leaves your mouth as Oscar lifts you up against the door, pushing it closed with your back. He wastes no time before attacking your lips like a starved animal. You bring your hand up to the back of his head, combing your fingers through the soft, fluffy hair on the nape of his neck, lightly tugging on it. His lips part with a sweet moan, allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth. His hands work their magic on your body, helping you ride up your tight dress to wrap your legs around his slim waist pressing your bodies even more together. Your tongues never stop fighting for dominance, although you are clearly losing the battle in your blissed out, foggy minded state. The way he bites into your lower lip knocks the remaining air out of your lungs.

You have to break the kiss to tilt your head back against the door behind you to catch your breath. He doesn’t hesitate to press open-mouthed, sloppy kisses along your jawline, down one side of your neck then up on the other, sucking a blooming red bruise onto your collarbone and licking it right after to soothe the delicious pain. You can’t do anything but pant against him, letting him do whatever he pleases to do with you. He doesn’t hold back either, leaving love bites all over neck to mark his territory, to show everyone who you belong to. His hands sit on both of your bare thighs, caressing your soft skin, drawing small, rhythmic circles with his thumbs, making you even dizzier. His hips relentlessly rocking forwards, thrusting his already hard dick against your clothed pussy.

‘O-oscar, please…’ Your raspy voice leaves your mouth in a prayer, begging him to finally touch you where you need him the most. Your chest arches towards his muscular torso as the hot pleasure takes over your overstimulated body.

You feel against your bruised skin how a smug grin spreads across his pretty face, thoroughly enjoying the reactions he can draw out of you. He drags his hands up your back, pulling you closer. His patience is starting to wear thin, as you feel him already clawing at your zipper to get you out of the dress as he guides you towards the bedroom. You take your turn to lay your swollen lips on his thick, delicious neck, biting on his Adam's apple and licking at the two moles you love so much. You slide your wet mouth lower on his flesh, leaving behind a matching mark on his collarbone. His knees buckle, almost dropping you midway when you slip your tongue over the purplish bruise and along the length of the bone.

He gently sits you down at the edge of the bed, peeling the already crumpled dress off your delicate body. Cold air hits your heated body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Oscar positions himself between your opened legs, looking down at his gorgeous, completely breathtaking girlfriend. Lust fills his usually soft big doe eyes as he admires your half-naked glory, eyes roaming across your face and flitting down to your perky tits, where your hardened nipples are ready to be kissed and sucked. However, Oscar has other plans and will take care of them later tonight. You let out a strangled sound, extremely impatient to have his hands back on your body and struggling to resist the handsome man standing before you. You extend your hands to palm at his dick over his suit trousers, earning a growl in exchange. You bring your face closer, running your wet mouth over the tight outline, so geared up to wrap your lips around his thick cock. Your hums send a shockwave through his whole figure, and he shoves his lower half more towards you, pleased by how you take over and eagerly jump on him if he teases you for too long. He lets himself drink in the moment a little longer before he runs his thumb along your jawline grabbing your chin to pull your head away from his aching member. You want to protest, but his firm hold on your face tells you not to. His thumb glides across your bottom lip, slightly pulling it down. The urge to push his thumb into your mouth and order you to suck on it is so intense, it’s clouding his judgment for just a second. But he can’t wait any longer to take you in the way he imagined it when that asshole approached you earlier. Jealousy rears its ugly head once again.

‘Another time.’ He licks his red inflamed lips seductively. ‘Go on all fours for me babe, let me see your pretty ass.’

You consider disobeying him, already burning with the visual of him manhandling you into the position. You think better of it eventually, but not before you flick your tongue on his thumb that he never quite got around to removing from your lower lip. You even let an innocent smile spread across your face when his fierce gaze finds yours, biting back a chuckle at how worked up he is while he is the one who has been playing with you all night and overstimulating you like crazy. You crawl on the bed finally, positioning yourself the way he asked you to, laying your forearms on the clean duvet and pushing your round ass in the air. You catch a needy groan from where he is standing, you peek over your shoulders to send him a wink signaling to him to get on with it.

He’s a racing driver for a reason, getting out of his clothes at record speed, almost beating the fastest McLaren pit-stop time. The bed dips under his weight, and you feel his body heat right behind you warming your skin even more. His brown eyes connect with the sight of your soaked through lace panties, revealing your perfectly pink slit he’s dying to dive into. He breathes softly on it for good measure, bringing a whiny sob out of you.

Oscar positions his knees right between yours, pushing your legs apart a little more to grant himself better access. He runs his right hand along your spine, letting his longer nails scratch at your skin, not hard enough to leave prints but still just enough to make you shiver and squirm under his enormous hand. His left hand paws at both of your ass cheeks repeatedly, smacking them firmly before switching sides. You were never known for your patience at the best of times, and by now had clearly had enough of his little games trying to take control as you bump your ass against his stiff cock.

‘NO MORE PLAYING, PLEASE!’ You struggle to push yourself up, reaching behind you to tug at your undies. Your whole body is shaking, begging for relief, aching to have him inside you at last. He playfully swats away your hands, refusing to let you be in charge. It’s his time to shine, to show he’s the only one who make you scream his name loudly enough that the whole world can hear, to make you remember who fucked you so hard when you barely can walk the next day.

He had his own fair share of fantasies for being rough with you, but always shook it off thinking you’d not be into such cruel acts. In reality, he couldn’t be more wrong. You’re so aroused your fluids are already running down the inside of your thighs. Your thong is so ruined he decides it’s easier to just rip it apart. It can’t be saved anyway. Your foggy mind couldn’t care less, just wanting to feel him so badly it hurts you, both physically and mentally.

Knees about to give up on you, you let out a whimper when he sinks his teeth into your left cheek before lifting himself up. He strokes his hard dick once or twice, running his thumb over the reddened tip, spreading precum all over it. He arranges himself at your entrance, pushing into your velvety walls without any warning, bottoming you out. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, gripping it from behind to push your face more into the mattress choking out your breathy moans. You can’t take it anymore, circling your hips to urge him on. He sighs with pleasure as he grasps your hip forcefully, setting a neck-breakingly fast pace, making you sob loudly into the bedding under you. His hold on your neck tightens, nails biting into your sensitive and bruised skin, buckling your hips backwards from ecstasy. Your hardened nipples slide on the duvet with every move he makes, stimulating you and blinding your vision.

‘Fuck, you feel amazing. And only mine!’ A light sheen of sweat is forming on his body, but it doesn’t stop him from hitting your spot over and over again earning the most beautiful sound out of your mouth in return. You never thought the innocent looking Aussie, your sweet boy with his love for vanilla sex, could be so possessive, so incredibly hot and demeaning while fully in control.

Your strength leaves your body, so desperately wanting to come, so on the edge it takes your breath away. Oscar throws his head back, taking every bit of pleasure you're able to give him. He catches a glimpse of your figures in the mirror standing in the further corner, right in front of you. His obsessive mind creates a wonderful idea of how not to let you forget who is pounding into you. He runs his fingers into your messy, long hair, gripping a handful of your locks to lift your head up.

'Eyes on us, sweetheart. Be a good girl and watch yourself being railed.' His raspy voice skyrockets your pulse; the Australian accent cuts through the steamy room adding yet another to the pile of reasons to lose your mind.

It should be embarrassing to see your own reflection while being devoured, but focus remains solely on Oscar. Your clouded eyes never stray from taking in the sight of him - messy hair pointing in all directions, some of his locks sticking to his damp pretty face; rosy blush permanently on his cheeks, highlighting his fair complexion; red stained kissable lips agape, a line of spit connecting them together. His impressive neck is on show whenever he tilts his head backwards to let out an obscene, almost pornographic moan. Sweat covers his broad, muscular chest, droplets snaking their way down his upper body and towards the area where the two of you are connected. The pooling sweat makes your skin sticky, which would be disgusting in any other setting, but here and now, it’s a big turn-on instead. His muscles flex as he thrusts his hips into yours. The wet, slapping sounds get louder and louder with every move he makes as he picks up the pace even more, filling you completely in the best way possible. Your neck aches from the weird angle of your body squished into the bed, but you are able to ignore it as your senses are in overdrive with the feeling of Oscar's movement and the hot view in the mirror combined.

'Osc… I'm sooooo close!' You feel the familiar clench in your stomach. You rasp out a whine as your orgasm hits you hard and fast, making your eyes involuntarily flutter shut. Unable to keep your head upright, you flop forwards into the bed. Your walls are clenching on Oscar's dick inside you, sending him over the edge too, filling you with his cum.

He lays his sweat-covered chest on your back, holding himself up so as not to crush you with his much bigger frame. He presses a sweet kiss between your shoulder blades, wrapping a hand around your waist to flip you over to your back. He's not ready to pull out of you yet, taking his time to cherish your closeness. His gaze has lost its fire, only love and adoration staring back at you from his soft brown eyes.

Oscar buries his face into your neck, mumbling sweet nothings, of how much you mean to him. He worships your body with light kisses. He goes all soft for you like he didn't rock your whole world just minutes ago. You hand massaging his head gently on the back of his neck, he pushes his cheeks deeper, closer to your warmth. His breath evens out, indicating that he's close to falling asleep on you. But, to your surprise, he starts talking.

'I'm sorry if I was too rough.' He whispers into your neck apologetically, and goosebumps awaken by the feeling of his breath on your tender skin.

‘If I had known before that jealousy brings out the animalistic side of you, I’d have flirted with guys left and right just to get wild rounds with you.’ A high-pitched chuckle leaves your lips as his teeth graze over the most purple hickey, protesting against your idea.

‘If you want our sex life spicier, just ask. I’m open for suggestions.’ He’s not keen to have any men around you with grabby hands. You’re his and only his. Your mind is already racing through all of your fantasies you’ve held back, anxious to not scare him away with all the kinks you’d like to explore.

Eventually, Oscar slowly slides out of you, making you hiss in the process. A few drops of his cum blemish the freshly changed cover. He kisses your cheek as an apology and kneels on the bed to head into the bathroom. He stops for a second next to the bed, tracing your perfect body with his eyes. He has no idea how he was able to bag such a gorgeous and adorable human being, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

You can’t help but ogle his retreating backside. His shoulder to waist ratio always leaves you speechless, no matter how many times you’ve seen it before. Oh, and his peachy ass, the star of the show. He carries a whole bakery down there, multiple cakes combined but seems to be oblivious about it. Everyone else is flat like a wall when he stands next to them sporting that gigantic ass.

He’s wearing tight boxer shorts when he gets back to bed, a damp and lukewarm towel in hand to clean away the mess he has caused. You’re still very sensitive everywhere, but his gentle touches only relax you to the extent you almost drift off the sleep. He leaves to drop off the dirty towel, and returns with one of his big T-shirts for you to sleep in. He dresses you with care, trying to avoid pressing on any of your newly-formed bruises.

His guilt resurfaces as he counts the marks on your perfect body. He had no intention of hurting you but he let his emotions get the worse of him. You see the change in his mood, and immediately know exactly what’s going on inside his pretty head.

‘Stop overthinking it. I might be sore as hell, but I would do it all over again if I wasn’t exhausted and about to fall asleep.’ Your reassurance calms the impending storm in his mind.

You climb under the duvet, waiting patiently to feel the mattress dip and his warmth press up against your back. He wraps his arm around you, sliding it under the shirt to place it on your flat stomach. He pulls you as close as physically possible, and buries his face into your soft but messy hair, breathing your flowery scent in.

‘I love you Ossie.’ Your eyes are already heavy, and you accept that you can’t delay your sleep any longer.

‘I love you too, more than anything.’ He murmurs sweetly before dozing off to sleep as well.

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri imagine #Lola’s writer debut #op81 smut #op81 fic #op81 imagine #Lola writes 🖋️

737 notes · View notes

onsunnyside · 2 years

Note

beafy!ari keeping you against the wall so he can fuck your mouth without you moving back or away 🥴 (all consensual ofc)

let's be sluts:

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | club owner!Ari Levinson x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut - minors dni, size difference, oral (m), face fucking so some gagging and it's messy, size kink, daddy kink, boot riding, spitting, mhm balls and cock on face, dirty talk, exhibitionism: public sex (alleyway).

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | You and your friends sneak into an exclusive club and you get punished by the owner.

𝗪/𝗖 | 457

💃𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It's a girl's night out and you and your friends wanted to hit up the hottest club in the city. You've never been inside but you've heard about the legendary DJ and classic drinks, and more than once, there have been celebrities and other high-profile people in attendance. It's pretty exclusive and always has a long line.

That's why you and your friends decided to sneak in, and after some unsuccessful bribing but successful diversions, you were finally inside the famed club. Between your third and fourth drink, you spotted that same bouncer pointing at you from across the room.

One thing led to another, and now your knees are on a man's suit jacket, cushioning your skin from the jagged concrete as saliva dribbles down your chin and on your pretty dress.

Your eyes struggle to stay open, tears streaming down your cheeks and seeping into the corners of your stretched lips. Wet noises fill the alleyway along with your pathetic gagging and choked moans. His boot raises, rubbing your slit through your thong, catching you off guard.

"Good girl, that's it. Show daddy how sorry you are." His voice is low and raspy, igniting a fire deep inside your belly. "You look so pretty on your knees, baby, even prettier crying on my big cock."

Ari has one hand braced on the brick wall, the other is cupping the back of your head, keeping you still as he fucks into your mouth. His heavy balls slap against your chin, your throat contracting around his thick length, struggling to take the brutal thrusts.

You don't try to get away, god, you don't want to—but you try to speak. Ari takes pity on you, the beautiful woman trapped between him and the wall, choking on his big dick, so he pulls away.

"What is it, sweetie?" He rubs the top of your head, almost comfortingly.

"I-I'm," You're cut off by a coughing fit before wiping your messy mouth, "Sorry—daddy, I'm s-sorry."

"You're sorry?" He hums, "I don't know if I believe you, honey. If I've learnt anything today, it's that you're a little troublemaker."

The tip of his boot touches your cunt, and your thighs shake with every rough breath. You watch him through blurry vision, the darkness of the alleyway cast around him like a shadow, making him look bigger and scarier than before.

His ring-clad fingers grasp his cock, slowly stroking inched from your face before the leaky tip traces your parted lips. He spits, his salvia landing on your face and dripping into your mouth. You let out a soft moan as he slaps you with his dick, eventually doing the same to your tongue.

"Maybe next time you won't sneak into my club, huh?"

2K notes · View notes

here2bbtstrash · 1 year

Text

look down on me like that - 9 (explicit)

genre: slow burn enemies to lovers hatefucking coworkers au, smut, angst

pairing: yoongi x reader

summary: your asshole coworker min yoongi has made it his personal mission to ruin your life.

word count: 16k 🙈

contains: explicit sexual content 👀 literally jumps immediately into it (well.... you'll see 🤭) so buckle up!!! also features: hotel drama, reader being v dumb in classic reader fashion but she gets there, a whole lotta tension and angst and misplaced anger, some new friends!!! and yes they're 3 idols see if you can figure out who 🤪, erotic bed sharing and handholding lmfao, probably the most drinking that has happened in a chapter yet (which is saying a lot honestly), of course the GRAMMY RESULTS.... oh yeah and yoongi in glasses, yoongi in a suit, yoongi playing piano, yoongi almost getting in a fight, yoongi rapping, yoongi WEARING CAT EARS (yes these are all warnings!!!!!! 😩) - ok and here are ur smut specific warnings: semi-public sex (mile high club anyone ✈️), cunnilingus, fingering, sex dreams, nipple play, dirty talk, reader has a voice kink 🥴, clit stim, unprotected sex AGAIN 💀, she squirts again don't @ me lmao, aaaaand some lovely mouth/throat fuckin 🫡

A/N: i feel like i have nothing to say that isn't just overwhelming gratitude to you all for being here 🥺 so i'll keep it short!!! sit back and get comfy bc this one's a lot, here we go y'all..... you ready?? 💜

A/N 2: as of 5/27, this chapter has been updated to remove the instances of anti-asian discrimination. i want to expressly state how sorry i am to those who were hurt or otherwise upset by the original content. please know that i mean it when i say i am fully committed to listening and doing better moving forward. 💜

an eternal thank you to @haliiimede and @monimonimoon for their help betaing!!!

read on AO3!

chapter eight | masterlist | chapter ten

~*~

You don’t know how you let Yoongi talk you into this.

You honestly can’t remember, at least not right now, not with your ass perched on the edge of the sink counter and his hands making quick work to tug your sweats and underwear down and off, one ankle at a time.

The place is cleaner than any airplane bathroom you’ve ever been in, and certainly much less cramped. First class really spares no expense, you’ve learned. It’s an upgrade Yoongi made for both of you at the check-in counter unprompted, his only explanation mumbled into the rim of his iced Americano once you’d settled at a table in the fancy lounge: “Economy seats fuck my back up, and I figured if I left you behind you’d push me into LA traffic at your first opportunity.”

You might still do it, if only because he’s managed to convince you to do this again. Weren’t you supposed to be mad at him?

“I’m starting to think you have a bathroom fetish,” you murmur, not quite managing to keep your voice steady. Your fingers rake through Yoongi’s long dark hair as he situates himself properly on his knees between your legs, his hands pressing your thighs to spread you wider.

“Are you complaining?” he grunts back, and you lose the ability to form a coherent response as he leans in and traces his tongue up your folds.

You nearly bang your head on the mirror with the way your spine instinctively arches at the feeling, your hips tilting up for as much of his mouth as you can get.

“Shit,” you hiss as he starts to fuck the muscle of his tongue into your entrance, his thumb swiping up through your wetness before settling into rough circles over your clit. “Why are you so fucking good at this?”

Once he’s thoroughly tasted you, Yoongi quickly replaces his tongue with his fingers, flexing against your front wall at a brutal pace, like he’s realized you can’t take too long in here. His lips close around your clit as his tongue laps over it in thick strokes, and your hips circle hungrily, grinding on him.

“That’s it,” he pulls off just enough to gasp. “Ride my face. Wanna make you come so I can fuck this tight little pussy.” Just the rough tone of his voice is nearly enough to send you over the edge.

When his lips and tongue return to your cunt, you don’t hold back.

You fist the hand tangled in his hair, your other palm smacking flat to the counter for balance as you throw a leg over his shoulder, and you swear you can hear him laughing while you press your heel into his back to pull him even closer. His mouth is warm and wet and divine, the way he licks and sucks at your throbbing clit overwhelming. He strokes his fingers deftly into your g-spot, working up enough arousal that it’s started to run down the crux of your thighs. You roll your hips again and gasp at the way his tongue drags just right over you.

“Oh god, Yoongi,” you groan, squeezing your eyes shut, too lost in it to worry about being quiet. You can feel it as he keeps his tongue laid out flat for you to use as you please. Everything in you pulls tight as you rut yourself against his face in time to the building pressure worked up in your core by his unrelenting fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

The plane dips sharply, and you lurch upright with a gasp as your eyes snap open. There’s a few more seconds of shuddering bumps, and then you seem to find clear skies again.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you sit back and try to steady your breathing, the world slowly coming into focus: the TV screen in front of you, your purse tucked into the shelf beneath it, beige privacy walls surrounding you on all sides.

Fuck. You lean forward, letting your head drop between your knees as reality sinks in. You’re not in the bathroom. You’re in your stupid first-class seat. It was a dream. A fucking airplane sex dream.

Panic carves through you like a knife as questions bubble up in your mind: What if you said something in your sleep? Did Yoongi hear you? Is he sitting on the other side of the wall with that fucking smirk on his face, endlessly smug in the knowledge that he haunts you even in your dreams?

Immediately convinced that he is, you can’t help yourself. You press your hands flat to the divider between you and just barely lift out of your seat so you can peek over it.

But Yoongi looks entirely unchanged from the last time you saw him several hours earlier: he’s got his headphones on and is slouched over his laptop, frowning down at the screen, thoroughly engrossed in work.

Just as you’re breathing a sigh of relief, he glances up, and your eyes widen.

“Can I help you?” he grunts, not even bothering to pull his headphones off. You don’t think it’s a double entendre, but you don’t want to entertain him long enough to find out.

“No,” you snap, and then you slump back down to the safety of your seat, slamming the controller on the wall until you’re fully horizontal. You tug the provided headphones over your ears, hoping they might block out your racing thoughts as you desperately try to ignore the dull ache between your legs.

~*~

Getting any more sleep proves to be an impossible task, your mind too keyed up at the possibility of another airplane bathroom dream. By the time you make it through the rest of the flight, and customs, and the car ride to your hotel, you’re nearly delirious with exhaustion, and your body is thoroughly confused about what fucking time it is, though your phone says it’s apparently the middle of the night.

Your brain feels like it’s been in a blender, your reaction time so slowed that, standing at the hotel check-in counter, it takes you several seconds to process the words leaving the front desk agent’s mouth.

She must be able to read the dumbfounded look on your face, because she repeats herself. “King bed executive suite for three nights?”

“Um, no,” you finally manage to stammer, and though he makes no discernible noise of reaction, it’s like you can feel Yoongi smirking over your shoulder. “No, we need— I booked a room with two queens.”

The agent purses her lips slightly, then shakes her head as she stares down at her computer. “Mm, I’m seeing in the system that we have you down for one king.”

Your exhaustion steamrolls over whatever professionality you might normally have while conducting a business transaction. “I don’t care what your fucking system says, it’s wrong. That’s not what I booked.” Scrolling through your phone for a few seconds, you manage to dig up the email, and you’re almost more compelled to show it to Yoongi, just to make sure he’s well aware— you did not fuck this up.

“See, two queens,” you reiterate helplessly as you extend the receipt on your phone toward the agent.

She tuts once, her eyes barely glancing over at your phone before returning to her computer screen. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem like we have any availability to switch you. Given the Grammys are on Sunday, this is quite a busy weekend for us.”

You set your phone on the counter and try to keep your breathing steady, to remain calm despite the overwhelmed panic starting to rise in your chest.

“About that,” you say, doing your best to speak in an even voice. “We wanted to keep a low profile, but my… associate here is actually a nominee. For Song of the Year?” You hate that it comes out more like a question as your gaze flits to Yoongi for the briefest of seconds, then back to the front desk agent. “So, really, if there’s anything at all you could do, we would appreciate it.”

There’s a pause as she regards you for a moment, her lips pressed into a tight smile, and then she speaks again. “I really do apologize, but a mistake on your part does not constitute an emergency on ours. No matter who the accommodation is for.”

It takes a second for your jetlag-addled brain to process the words, and their direct contrast to the forced sunny expression on her face. If you were in a better state of mind you might be able to take a breath, state your case more calmly, or figure out some other alternative, but instead all you can manage is a knee jerk reaction.

Because you can’t be in a room with Min Yoongi and only one bed.

“Are you fucking kiddin—”

“Hey.”

A hand pressed to your bicep nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Despite every cell in your body urging you to lunge over the counter, you don’t fight it when Yoongi pulls you back a few paces, giving enough room for him to take your place at the counter.

“It’s fine,” he mutters over his shoulder.

It feels like your heart is beating a mile a minute, enough that you can hardly keep up with the soft apology he concedes to the agent. She hands him the room keys without another word, that same fake smile still plastered over her face. With one last nasty look over your shoulder, you follow Yoongi toward the elevators, dragging your suitcase along behind you.

Practically seething, you can barely manage to wait until the doors slide shut before you pounce.

“Look, I don’t know what you think is about to happen here, but I did not fucking book a single bed room.”

“It’s fine,” he sighs wearily, eyes fixed on the overhead number as it counts up to your floor. “I just want to sleep. Whatever that was about to turn into wasn’t worth the trouble.”

The doors slide open with a soft chime, and you storm after him down the hall to your room as he continues, pressing the key to the reader and pushing the door open. “Besides, I've stayed here before, and I know these suites have couches.” He holds the door and gestures for you to enter first, and you do.

He's not wrong: there’s a small living room area with a sofa, a desk, and a television mounted into a wall that effectively separates it from the bedroom on the other side, though there isn’t actually a door. The bathroom is immediately to your left as you step inside.

“So,” Yoongi says simply as the door shuts behind him. “I'll take the couch. All good.”

Of fucking course.

The rational part of your brain knows that he has done nothing to upset you. He's been quiet and polite on your long day of travel, and is treating you simply as if you were business acquaintances. It all makes perfect sense, given that you told him your night at his apartment couldn’t mean anything. He's done everything you’ve asked of him, really.

And yet it’s all of it: your stupid sex dream, the lingering bad taste of your encounter with the hotel agent, and the fact that Yoongi can’t seem to even fathom the idea of sharing a bed with you, not here and certainly not at his apartment. Everything has you simmering with a sudden vicious, unreasonable anger.

“Do whatever you want,” you snap as Yoongi sets his suitcase down on the floor of the living room. “I don’t give a shit.”

The rage burns like acid in your gut as you move through your night routine in the bathroom, and it’s only worsened by the knowledge that your alarm will be going off in just a few hours, and you’ll have to drag yourself through a long day of press and prep for Sunday. And that Yoongi will be there, through all of it, just like he’s on the other side of the door right now, inescapably and overwhelmingly present.

It doesn’t make sense to you how he can somehow manage to be too distant and too close at the same time. As you spit toothpaste into the sink, you wonder why the fuck you ever agreed to go on this stupid trip.

~*~

You don’t think you manage more than ten minutes of sleep the whole night. Despite exhaustion weighing heavy in your limbs, you toss and turn and kick at the blankets, too frustrated by all the confusing feelings churned up inside of you to be able to slip into any kind of real rest.

When you glance at the clock for the millionth time, it’s now only thirty minutes until your alarm is due to go off. With a sigh, you decide to give up.

Your mind is already racing with the schedule for the day, and you go over it a million times in your head as you shower and dress and apply your makeup. When you emerge from the bathroom already entirely put together, Yoongi is on the couch blinking blearily at his phone, clearly having just woken up.

“The car will be here at seven,” you call over your shoulder without a second glance back at him.

He grunts his acknowledgement, and after a few moments you hear the sound of the bathroom door sliding shut again. You dig your work laptop out of your purse to double-check everything, and before you know it you’re sucked into confirming specifics and answering emails, and you completely lose track of time.

The sound of Yoongi clearing his throat snaps you back to reality, and you shut your laptop as you glance up to find him standing in the threshold of the bedroom. He’s dressed nicely for his many interviews, in a sky-blue button-down, and you have to blink twice as you take in his appearance.

“You wear glasses?”

The warm lamplight of the bedroom reflects off his lenses as he shrugs. “I don’t like to. But I forgot my contacts.”

“We can stop for some on the way to your fitting,” you answer, adding it to your mental to-do list. The reminder of your booked itinerary is enough to get you to your feet, one arm wrapped around your laptop to press it close to your chest. Trying to remember what else you need to do to get ready proves impossible as Yoongi steps closer, and then you hear him laugh softly under his breath.

“Wow, glasses? Really?”

“What?”

“You have that look on your face,” he says simply, and you can feel an embarrassed heat creep up your neck. You hate that after all this time, he can still read you like a book.

You swallow hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He continues to close the distance between you, and you take a reflexive step backward, only for your thighs to bump against the mattress behind you. “Would’ve worn these more often if I knew they’d get you all flustered.”

You attempt to argue that you’re not flustered, but the words die on your tongue with the realization of how close Yoongi is to you now. His eyes are fixed pointedly on your mouth. “I—” you try again, your voice breaking slightly. “I’m not—”

The sharp buzz of your phone vibrating on the nightstand makes both of you start, and it’s like you can think clearly again when Yoongi steps back to give you room to grab it. You thumb open the text with one hand as you shove your laptop into your purse with the other. “They’re downstairs.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything else to you until you’re in the car, crawling through Los Angeles traffic. “Remind me what all we’re doing today?”

You stare out the windshield, not wanting to meet his gaze as you recount the schedule that’s permanently seared into your brain. “You have press interviews in Studio City all morning until one. We’ll pick up lunch— and we can grab you some contacts, too— and then you have a fitting in Beverly Hills at two. After that, your boss wants us to tour the office out here and take a few meetings with the team, so that’ll be the rest of the afternoon. And then I guess whenever we’re done with that, the label execs want to take us to dinner after.”

He’s silent for long enough that you’re forced to glance over at him, wondering if he was even paying attention. There’s a small smile on his face, but it doesn’t quite read as smug. You don’t know what to make of it.

“Huh,” Yoongi finally remarks.

“What?” you snap in response, probably a little harsher than he deserves, but you haven’t had coffee yet.

“Nothing,” he says innocently. “It’s just funny, compared to when you first started.” He crosses his arms over his chest, shifting back slightly in his seat. “I remember when you couldn’t even use Outlook.”

You narrow your eyes in his direction. “I guess people change.”

“Guess so.”

The day passes in a hectic blur, and though ostensibly all of your scheduled engagements are meant to be about Yoongi, you find yourself just as busy as he is, if not moreso.

His press interviews run long because of course they do, and you’re forced to drop him at his fitting while you run out to pick up lunch and contacts— and most importantly, more coffee, which you desperately require to survive the rest of the day.

You’re admittedly thankful for the extra tasks. Even if you do feel dead on your feet, it’s still preferable to sitting around and watching Yoongi try on a suit. You can easily recall firsthand how deadly the image is, and putting off that suffering until the real thing tomorrow is perfectly fine, as far as you’re concerned.

The coffee gives you just enough of a caffeine boost to power through your afternoon meetings, reviewing branding strategies and opportunities for collaborative promotions with the label’s overseas team. Your heart sinks a little when you go through the marketing summary slides prepared by Jungkook, not a single detail out of place, and you try to shove thoughts of him to the back of your mind so you can focus on the work.

At dinner, it’s all you can do to not fall asleep over your extremely overpriced sashimi. Yoongi’s been pulled away to the far side of the table for what you can only assume are deeply boring conversations with the Los Angeles production team. Thankfully, your side is a bit more lively.

“Matthew,” the A&R rep who you’re pretty sure introduced herself as Tiffany stage-whispers. You realize she’s speaking to the tall and ridiculously built guy seated next to you when her gaze flits up to him, and then she resumes poring over the extensive drink menu. “Can we get sake bombs?”

“Why are you asking me?” Matthew responds, and you look over to see his face scrunched up in confusion.

“You’re in finance! I need you to tell me that I can get white-girl wasted on the label’s dime tonight.”

He sighs for a moment, like he’s trying to think. “I don’t… actually know if we’re allowed to reimburse that.” Tiffany’s lower lip trembles, dangerously adorable, and he exhales as if he’s been defeated. “Fuck it. I’ll cover it out of pocket if we can’t.”

“God, I love you,” she breathes, chasing the comment with a throaty laugh and quickly flagging down a server to order. “Can we please do thr— Vernon, baby, how old are you?”

The intern seated next to her blinks slowly. “Twenty four?” You’re pretty sure those are his first words of the evening.

“Huh. Your skincare’s doing wonders,” Tiffany shakes her head disbelievingly. “Four sake bombs, please?”

They arrive in an instant, and Tiffany smiles proudly to herself as she balances her shot glass on a pair of chopsticks laid across the top of her beer. You follow Matthew and Vernon’s lead as they set their drinks up to mirror hers.

“To Matthew’s wallet,” Tiffany toasts solemnly. “The only thing bigger than his tits.”

As if in hearty agreement, Matthew bangs his fist against the table so hard it makes everyone in a five foot radius flinch, and all four of your shot glasses plummet into the awaiting beers beneath them.

“Kanpai, motherfuckers!” Tiffany cackles, and you throw your drinks back in perfect sync.

The rowdiness of your corner is too loud to be ignored, and your stomach twists slightly as you set your empty glass down only to catch Yoongi staring from across the table. When your eyes meet his, he quickly lowers his gaze and adjusts his glasses, his mouth pulling into a flat line.

You turn back to your new friends as Tiffany finishes her own drink. As if she just witnessed the silent exchange, she leans toward you.

“So,” she drops her voice a little lower, “What’s it like working with Suga?”

Doing your best to keep your face neutral, you inhale deeply, wondering where to begin, or what would even be workplace-appropriate to say. The jetlag makes your mind move that much slower. “It’s—”

“Oh my god,” she immediately interrupts you. “You’re sleeping with him.”

Vernon nearly spits the last swallow of his drink back out.

“Tiffany,” Matthew interjects, sounding exhausted, like this is a regular occurrence. “Don’t fucking say that to someone you just met.”

“I mean,” you concede, your lips loosened by the warm rush of alcohol. “She’s not wrong.”

Matthews eyes widen, and he purses his lips for a long pause before he finally speaks. “Shiiiiiit, okay. Alright then.”

You sigh, slumping to rest your cheek in your hand, so exhausted that you can barely stay upright. “I don’t know if ‘sleeping with’ is the right term. It’s just a… mistake that we’ve made. A few times. Several, I guess.”

“I bet he’s even richer than Matthew,” Tiffany says, awestruck, clearly more to herself than to you.

“If it’s a mistake, why do you keep making it?” Vernon asks bluntly.

“Damn, Vernon with the deep cut,” Matthew remarks, and you shake your head.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, your words running together slightly. “I’m just trying not to think about it, at least not while we’re on this stupid work trip.”

All three of them nod like they understand, and then Tiffany leans in again. “Let me guess: there’s only one bed in the hotel room.”

“Please ignore her.” Matthew sounds as tired as you feel.

“Yes!” you exclaim, your anger from the night before temporarily reigniting. “The hotel fucked our room up, and the lady wouldn’t fix it because she was a fucking bitch—”

“Naturally,” Vernon interjects.

“And even though we only have one bed, he chose to take the couch. Like, that’s where we’re at.”

“That’s sweet,” Tiffany murmurs, and you make a face.

“Is it?”

“He’s being respectful. I bet he doesn’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable, or like… pressured. ‘Cause sleeping with somebody is a world of difference from… sleeping with them, you know?”

You roll your eyes. “Or he wants to be as far away from me as possible, even while sleeping.”

“If I was the one nominated for a Grammy, I’d make you take the couch,” Vernon scoffs around a piece of edamame.

“Right?” Matthew chimes in. “Ain’t no way I’m getting good sleep on a hotel couch. Them things are like fuckin’ cement blocks.”

A yawn escapes you before you can manage to stifle it, and you press a hand to your mouth, suddenly overwhelmed from exhaustion as well as the conversation. You scoot your chair back from the table to stand and politely excuse yourself to the restroom.

“You gotta cool it with that shit, Tiff,” you hear Matthew mutter as you depart.

Your mind swims while you traverse the long back hallways of this bougie restaurant. It’s almost laughable now, but you really never thought to give Yoongi the benefit of the doubt for sleeping on the couch— not here, and not at his apartment.

You’re still so used to expecting the worst from him that you’ve just assumed the intention is laced into his every action. Even the nice things have felt like a cause for concern, like a reason to keep your guard up, small gestures meant to distract you so he can get the upper hand, somehow. It’s hard to shake the idea that he’s your enemy, even after everything that’s happened.

And yet you can’t help wondering if Tiffany is right. Is Yoongi really just being… respectful? And if so: what does he want? And how does he feel? You’re torn between wanting to know and hoping you never find out.

A voice saying your name drags you out of your thoughts. You turn back just shy of the restroom door, unable to stop another yawn from slipping out, and you bring a hand to your mouth to hide it. Your eyes widen as your brain works on a delay to process the familiar voice, then the sky-blue shirt and the dark framed glasses. It distantly occurs to you that Yoongi has you all alone in this fancy hallway.

You blink a few times, willing the weight of sleepiness out of your eyes, then finally respond with the first thing you can think of. “I’m not fucking you in the bathroom, Yoongi.”

He blinks right back at you, clearly not expecting that. “I… wasn’t asking you to.”

“What do you want then?” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I—” he sighs, and you can’t help but wonder if he suddenly regrets coming after you. “You’re tired.”

“Yes, because I barely fucking slept. And?”

You tell yourself that you’re just imagining the way his voice has softened slightly. “Dinner’s over. We don’t have to stay. They’ll get it.”

“I’m having fun,” you retort. “I made friends.”

“I saw,” he remarks, not quite able to hide his smirk.

“So please, don’t cut your boring producer conversation short on my behalf,” you continue dryly.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, to your surprise. “Yeah, it’s brutal. I’d much rather be sleeping.” He quirks an eyebrow. “Or doing sake bombs.”

The question rushes out before you can second guess if it’s a good idea to ask. “How did you sleep? On the couch?”

Yoongi shrugs, then rubs a hand at the back of his neck, making a face as if you’ve put him on the spot. “Like shit.”

You nod, your gaze dropping to the carpeted floor. “Well, I mean. Maybe it would make more sense if, uh—”

“’Scuse me—” a new voice causes your head to snap up again, and you take a step away from Yoongi as Tiffany slips between the two of you, moving quickly toward the women’s restroom.

“Sorry love, I have to break the seal!” she calls over her shoulder before the door slams shut.

The interruption is enough to make you swallow your suggestion, and Yoongi reaches into his pocket for his phone.

“I’ll call a car, because I’m tired,” he murmurs defensively. “You’re welcome to get your own later, if you want to stay out—”

“I don’t,” you say firmly. “It’s fine. Just tell me when the car’s here.” Before Yoongi can so much as respond, you shoulder the bathroom door open and fast-walk to the safety of a stall.

After breaking your own seal, you make your way out to a sink, and you’re a little taken aback to find Tiffany still there waiting for you. She’s hovering over the mirror, blotting at her forehead with a paper towel.

“I wanted to apologize if I came on too strong,” she says softly as you turn on the tap. “Matthew says my mind-reading abilities can be intimidating to people who don’t know me well.”

You can’t help but laugh. “It’s cool. You remind me of my best friend.”

“The highest honor there is,” she says with a knowing nod. When she turns to fully face you, shifting to rest her hip on the sink as you dry your hands, you have a feeling there’s more coming.

“So, can I be honest?”

“Go ahead,” you say, suddenly a little nervous.

“I know I just met both of you today, but— the way Suga was looking at you? Girl. He’s not taking the couch because he wants to.”

You smile politely at her reflection, and her eyes narrow. “I know you don’t believe me, and you don’t have to. Matthew doesn’t believe that he’s in love with me either, but we both have Leo Moons, so obviously we’re each waiting for the other person to cave first.” She shrugs, nonchalant. “Which is fine for us, but all I’m saying is, if you want something, there’s really nothing wrong with asking for it.”

The urge to shut her down is strong. It’s slightly unnerving to feel like a relative stranger is peering into your soul. “You make it sound easy,” you murmur with a dry laugh. “I don’t think bed-sharing is part of our… arrangement.”

Tiffany preens a little more in the mirror, deftly flipping her curtain of dark hair over one shoulder. “Maybe it’s not supposed to be, but trust me on this one. He won’t say no. And if he does, I owe you a sake bomb.”

A genuine smile blooms across your face, and it only widens when she holds up her pinky finger. You lock yours around it for a single shake. “Deal.”

Arm-in-arm with Tiffany, you return to your corner of the table, where she entertains you by bullying Matthew into buying another round of drinks while he groans about burning a hole in his pocket.

“If it helps,” you giggle, “I’m about to head out. So make it three instead of four.”

“Thank god,” Matthew breathes a sigh of relief. “This girl is so damn expensive.”

Tiffany pauses with a spoonful of matcha gelato— also ordered on Matthew’s dime— halfway to her mouth. “I literally have a Leo stellium, what the fuck do you expect?”

While they continue to bicker, your gaze floats down the table. You wonder if Tiffany’s mind-reading powers might be catching as your eyes land on Yoongi just in time for him to look up from his phone and meet your gaze. He nods his head once toward the entrance, and you nod back.

A shoulder bumps into yours, and you turn to see Tiffany subtly shoot you a thumbs-up. “Fighting!” she murmurs under her breath, and you laugh as you get to your feet and bid everyone goodnight.

Yoongi holds the door of the restaurant for you to exit first, then follows you into the large black car waiting for you on the curb.

The drive back to the hotel gives you just enough time to immediately talk yourself out of Tiffany’s suggestion. The thought of asking for what you want feels like a trap, like displaying weakness to the one person who could hit you hardest. Besides, what if she misread Yoongi entirely? She doesn’t know him at all, and has no idea of the way things are between you. It’s a terrible idea, you decide.

So you find yourself right where you were the night before, like a bad dream you can’t wake up from: face washed, teeth brushed, tossing and turning in a bed far too large for one person. You can feel your final thread of resistance snap clean in half as you angrily kick the blankets off, then get to your feet and storm into the living room.

Yoongi is still up, peering down at his phone screen on the couch, his glasses deposited atop the coffee table.

“You’re being stupid,” you huff, and he glances up, clearly not expecting the interruption.

“I am?”

“You’re going to the Grammys tomorrow,” you say, as if that will explain anything.

“So are you,” Yoongi counters.

“Well yeah, but nobody’s going to give a shit about me.”

“I’d argue that’s also true for me,” he murmurs dryly, then squints at you. “Sorry, why am I stupid?”

“Because you’re going to sleep terribly on this couch.”

Yoongi nods once. “Probably, yes.”

You sigh, because of course he’s going to drag this out of you. “And the bed is perfectly big enough for two people. We wouldn’t even be touching or anything. So…” Fuck, saying what you want is hard. “Can you just… stop being stupid?”

There’s a flash of recognition in his eyes, and you’re surprised when that trademark cocky smirk doesn’t spread across his face. If anything, he just seems hesitant as he slowly sits up. “You’re sure?”

You fold your arms across your chest, suddenly feeling exposed like this, standing in front of him in only your thin sleep clothes. “Please don’t make me say it again.”

The corner of Yoongi’s mouth just barely pulls up, so slight you could be imagining it. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

In the bedroom, you leave the lamp at the empty side of the bed switched on, then crawl back under the sheets on your side. Heat blooms in your face as you press your cheek to the cool pillowcase, purposefully facing out, then reach one arm up to turn off your own bedside lamp.

True to his word, a few minutes later you hear the unmistakable sound of Yoongi’s steps across the carpet, then feel the shift of the mattress as he slips into bed on his side. He fumbles on the nightstand with what must be his glasses and his phone, and then you hear the click of the light, and the room disappears into darkness.

There’s a rustle and a sigh as he makes himself comfortable, and you were right: the two of you can easily share the bed without touching, plenty of space on the mattress between you.

Even so, having him closer is somehow… better. Comforting. You try not to dwell too much on it.

Flipping over onto your back, you stare up at the infinite black of the ceiling above you, your eyes already starting to weigh heavy. You don’t know where the question comes from, or why you ask it.

“Are you nervous?”

When he answers, Yoongi sounds half-asleep, too. “About what?”

“The Grammys?”

“Oh.” There’s a stirring sound, and then he speaks, like he’s just remembered you can’t see him shrugging. “I don’t know. A little.”

The only reply you’re capable of is a soft hum, and now you really can’t keep your eyes open. You curl up on your side again, cheek smushing into the pillow, and your consciousness whirs up one last coherent thought before you fully slip under: What else would he be nervous about?

~*~

You wake up to the warm glow of morning beneath your eyelids, and when you blink them open, the room is lit soft, dappled in sunlight that has managed to sneak between the thick hotel curtains. It’s warm in this bed too, and comfortable, and you sigh quietly to yourself as you stir a little under the covers. With a stifled yawn, you move to turn onto your back, and it’s only when you meet a gentle resistance that you realize why you’re so warm.

Yoongi must just be waking up too, because you immediately feel his body start at the realization that he pulled you close at some point during the night: an arm thrown over your waist, his hips pressed flush against yours.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice low and rough with sleep. “Sorry.” As the mattress starts to shift behind you, you respond on pure physical instinct and close your hand around Yoongi’s wrist.

“Stay.” The word comes out hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

Yoongi’s response is a soft grunt, and a bolt of panic quickens your pulse. You’re suddenly worried he might not want to stay, that he might even laugh at you for thinking you could have it like this, wrapped in his arms and waking up slowly. The furthest thing from hatred— and isn’t that what this is supposed to be?

But then his grip tightens to pull you that much closer, and he wordlessly presses his face into the crook of your neck. Your heart flutters in your chest, sweet and terrified. The heat of his breath over your skin makes you lean into him instinctively, and when your hips tilt, you can feel the unmistakable bulge of his clothed cock against your ass.

“God,” Yoongi groans. The deep gravel of his voice is enough to tighten your nipples beneath your tank top. “You make me so fucking hard. Dreamt about fucking you in this bed.”

“We woke up early,” you murmur. “So. There’s time.”

He grunts a low note in response. You can already feel the thin material of your sleep shorts growing wet between your legs as you slowly grind your hips back on him.

Yoongi’s hand slips up your body, fingertips dragging over the fabric of your top until his palm is pressed to the column of your throat. You inhale softly, your head tipping up to allow him better access. His grip just barely tightens, and when he speaks in your ear, you can hear the smile around his words. “Tell me what you want.”

“Want you to fuck me, Yoongi,” you breathe. “In this bed.”

When you repeat his words back to him, Yoongi exhales a laugh, and then you feel him press a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. Something melts open inside of you at the brush of his lips, a sudden rush of an emotion you haven’t felt in a very long time. Something you certainly never expected to feel with Min fucking Yoongi, of all people.

He releases his hold on your throat, and his hand makes short work of slipping the straps of your tank top off your shoulders, then yanking the loose fabric down to expose your tits. You shiver a little at the morning air against your bare skin.

Yoongi’s palm closes around one of your breasts, lazily massaging it, and you rut your ass back on him with a small whimper. The heat of his mouth trails more kisses up your neck, and then his deep voice is in your ear again.

“Did you sleep okay?” He pairs the question with his thumb dragging circles over the stiff bud of your nipple, earning another soft noise from you.

“Y-yeah,” you manage to respond. “Better than the first night.”

He hums against the shell of your ear, the timbre of his rough voice setting every last one of your nerve endings alight. Overcome with desire, you can barely focus on his words as his hand traces along your waist to slip down the back of your shorts.

“Me too. So much better than the fucking couch.”

Two of his fingers tease over your slit, and he huffs a disbelieving laugh at how wet he finds you, how turned on you already are. When he swipes between your folds to circle at your entrance, you can hear your own slickness, chased with a soft noise of appreciation that escapes Yoongi’s mouth as he plunges both digits into your pussy. You can’t help but moan, too.

He could easily make you come just like this, but you want him too much.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, twisting slightly to reach a hand behind you. You trace down the hard muscles of his stomach, apparent even through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, until your palm drags along the thick outline of his cock straining beneath his boxer briefs. He’s so hard that he pulses under your touch, and you’re sure he must be able to feel the way your pussy flutters at the thought of this cock filling you up.

“Needy,” he purrs, his mouth against your neck.

“Shut up,” you answer automatically, not quite able to keep your voice steady with the way he’s fucking his fingers into you.

But Yoongi doesn’t torment you— you only have to give his clothed length one slow pump before his hands are pushing your shorts over your legs, like he can’t get them off fast enough. You kick them the rest of the way off while he works his boxers down, and then you arch back as his cock starts to tease your pussy lips apart.

He slips easily through your folds, painting you both in a mixture of pre-cum and arousal as he grinds himself over the whole of your slit. You bite back a moan when the head of his dick rubs up to your clit, smearing wetness there in steady strokes that make you gasp and writhe.

“Can I go raw again?” he asks so softly in your ear, and your cunt throbs as you whimper your consent.

It’s impossible to keep quiet now, not with how perfectly his cock pushes into you, stretching you open to take him. You press your face into the pillow to slightly muffle your sounds, and you can hear Yoongi groan behind you.

“Fuck,” he hisses roughly. “You’re ruining me. I may never be able to go back to condoms.”

“Yoongi,” you whine as he sheathes himself fully with a grunt of effort, giving you a few moments to adjust before he moves. “If you keep fucking talking in my ear with your morning voice like that—” your own voice breaks off mid-sentence as he drags his cock out just to fuck it back into you, and you have to take a breath before trying again. “I’m gonna come in five seconds.”

When he presses his mouth to your shoulder, you can feel the smirk on his lips. “Is that right?” The low rumble of his question buzzes through you, and your walls tighten around him in response. “You like it that much?”

You can barely remember how to form words with the way he’s started to thrust, the head of his cock sparking hot pleasure each time he rubs himself over the ridges of your front wall. “What if I do?”

Yoongi hums into the crook of your neck, purposefully drawing the sound out to make a shiver run up your spine, and you can’t help moaning. His hand slips between your thighs to nudge them apart, and you’re easily pliant for him, spreading yourself at his guidance so his fingers can find your clit.

“I’d tell you how fucking good you look like this,” he murmurs against your skin. “How well you take my cock.” You roll your hips in time with his strokes, and his free arm slips between your shoulder and the bed to wrap around your chest, giving him leverage to fuck you harder.

“Oh my god.” You nearly choke on your words as he pounds into you, unrelenting now, and your fingertips claw desperately at the pillow beneath your head.

“Pussy’s always so fucking tight, shit,” he groans. “Should’ve just done this the whole weekend. Don’t know how I even let you leave the room.”

Your feet flex helplessly against the bedsheets as Yoongi’s hand rubs a steadily building pressure into your core that threatens to overflow. His fingers move in tight circles over your clit like he knows your body well— which, you guess, he does. The thought of him keeping you here all weekend, tangled up in these sheets, fucking you senseless and making you come again and again and again is dizzying, enough to make your pussy start to pulse around his length.

“Yoongi,” you gasp. “Fuck, fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”

His lips brush over your shoulder, his voice stilted by how roughly he’s fucking into you. “Yeah, come on this cock. Make a mess for me.”

The pleasure is so overwhelming you almost want to squirm away from it, but then his fingers press your clit just right to snap a final thread and send you over the edge. Your thighs shake violently as your climax rips through you, and a rush of fluid squirts out of your cunt to coat the length of his dick and soak a wet spot into the sheets.

Yoongi groans unabashedly at the sight, still fucking you through the waves of your orgasm, his thrusts slowing as if to hold off his own end while your pussy keeps shuddering around him.

You take your time coming all the way down, lost in how good it feels, and then you slump back against the pillow with a ragged sigh, your head swimming. “Holy shit.”

His throbbing-hard cock is still clenched inside your heat, and the bed shifts when he gently pulls out. Dazed, you turn over to watch him as he kneels up on the bed next to you, his knees sinking soft divots into the mattress, and starts to slowly pump himself.

And fuck. He looks so good like this: long hair mussed from sex and sleep, with a half-awake look of concentration on his face, his tongue toying at the corner of his mouth and the muscles of his arm flexing with every stroke. Watching him get himself off has only gotten hotter since you saw it the first time, and you didn’t think that was possible.

It feels like it takes all the effort you have left in your body, but you manage to sit up and turn to face him. In one assured move, you reach down to grab his wrist and pull his hand off his cock.

Yoongi whines a little at the realization of what you’re doing, and he leans back to give you full access as you settle yourself on all fours in front of him.

“Oh fuck yeah, please suck me off.”

“Please?” you laugh, pausing to glance up at him. “Who taught you manners?”

“That fucking mouth did,” he growls, and it’s punctuated with a relieved moan as you drag your tongue up his shaft. One of his hands tangles in your hair while you lick the heady taste of yourself off his cock, then breathe deep through your nose so you can swallow him down.

Yoongi’s breath comes in ragged pants as you hollow your cheeks around him and start to bob your head, letting his tip rub against the back of your throat on every pass. You feel his fingers in your hair tighten, and his hips shove up to match your strokes, like he’s already close to coming undone.

This thick cock weighs heavy and familiar on your tongue, warm like the rays of morning sun that have reached far enough into the room to wash over the bedsheets now. Drool spills out from the seal of your lips around Yoongi’s shaft, and the sound of him fucking your mouth is obscene, pornographic as it floats up to the ceiling.

“God,” Yoongi gasps. “Gonna come down your pretty fucking throat.”

And it’s funny— once, this would have made you feel powerful, in control, like the person with the upper hand. The winner. But in this moment, it occurs to you that you don’t really give a shit about winning anymore. Now his words just make you hum and suppress a smile around his cock in your mouth. When you notice the way his thighs tremble in response, you keep going, vibrating his length while you sink as far down as you can take it.

The hand in your hair releases, and then his palm just barely brushes over the bulge of his cock in your throat as if in admiration. Eyes rolling back, you let your jaw slacken and swallow hard on the stretch of him there.

“Jesus, fuck,” he groans, and then he’s coming, and the throb of him in your mouth still feels like a reward. You pull back a little to keep from gagging as he paints fat ropes of cum into the tight clutch of your throat. Sucking firmly around him through spasm after spasm, you swallow it all down greedily until you feel him going soft on your tongue.

You finally pull off with a wet pop, dazed and laughing as you roll over and collapse into a heap against the mattress, thoroughly spent.

“Okay,” Yoongi manages to say on an exhale, though you can hear he’s still short of breath, too. You glance up to see him raking a hand through his hair, looking fucked out of his mind. “I’m ready to go win a Grammy now.”

There’s just enough time for each of you to shower and get dressed before a whole team of people arrive for Yoongi: stylists, hair and makeup, and most importantly, coffee delivery. Yoongi blinks wide-eyed at you as you press the largest iced Americano you could find in downtown Los Angeles into his hands, and then you step back to let everyone get to work.

Meanwhile, you spend the next few hours in a rush of attempting to get yourself ready, all while double-checking the schedule, answering emails on the fly from your phone, and trying desperately to ignore the anxiety that’s started to hum in the pit of your stomach.

Once your hair and makeup are as decent as you can get them, you slip the black dress you packed for tonight— a rental, because buying a black tie dress was absolutely out of your price range— off the hanger and step carefully into it. Watching yourself in the mirror, you reach behind you for the zipper only to realize you can’t quite manage to pull it up past the small of your back.

Fuck. You didn’t even think about the fact that Jimin helped you zip this thing up when you tried it on initially, during a night at your place where you split two bottles of wine and he performed his own personal critique of all your dress rental options. This was the only one he’d liked.

With a nervous sigh, you head for the bathroom door, figuring that you’ll be able to subtly grab the attention of one of Yoongi’s many stylists to help.

But when you slowly slide the door open, one hand pressing the fabric of your dress in place over your chest, you realize the room has fallen quiet. As you lean across the threshold, you see why: everyone is gone.

Except for Yoongi, who glances up from where he’s sunk into the couch, scrolling aimlessly on his phone.

“Where is everyone?” you snap, probably a little harsher than you need to be.

He frowns like he doesn’t understand the question. “They… left? Because they were done? I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s a big awards show tonight. Means the stylists are pretty booked today.”

Yoongi gets to his feet to cross the room, and you fumble awkwardly, trying to keep your dress up. He’s fully put together now in a well-fitted suit and tie, and with his long hair styled and subtle makeup applied to enhance his features, he looks… good. Too good. Deadly. You can’t quite manage to maintain eye contact, and find yourself staring dumbly at the floor instead.

His voice softens slightly as he steps in close to you. “What’s wrong? Does it not fit?”

“It fucking better,” you mutter. “I just… can’t reach the zipper.”

“Are you asking for my help?”

Your gaze flits up to meet his, and you’re a little surprised by his question. “There’s nobody else here,” you retort, stubborn.

When he blinks evenly back at you, like he’s waiting for something, you realize he’s not going to make this easy. Fucking hell. Another tense moment passes, and he just blinks again.

“Yes,” you finally give in with a frustrated sigh. “Will you please help me, Yoongi?”

“Turn around,” he murmurs, and you do.

His hand slides over the small of your back, and then he slowly starts to ease the zipper up. You don’t dare move a muscle until he’s done, and it’s only once he buttons the closure at the top that you breathe a serious sigh of relief. The dress fits like a glove.

You attempt to compose yourself enough to thank him, but the words get stuck in your throat when you feel the heat of his breath against your skin.

His low voice resonates in the quiet of the room as he leans in. “Was that so hard?”

You turn your head as if to argue, but then there’s a split second where you feel his lips brush over your neck, just below your ear. So slight it could’ve been an accident.

“Thanks,” you manage to choke out, and then you slip away from him to get your heels from the bedroom and try to remember how to breathe. You do your best to ignore the fact that your hands are shaking as you pull your shoes on, then pause in front of the full-length mirror on the wardrobe, giving yourself a final once-over.

As you smooth your hands down the black velvet fabric and turn to the side, you glance up to find Yoongi hovering in the threshold, watching you.

“That dress,” he remarks, sounding a little dazed. You have to fight to keep the smile off your face when he trails off, unable to say more— you didn’t think it was possible to make Min Yoongi speechless. It’s not a bad feeling.

And you do like this dress, even though you could never actually afford it. It’s simple but elegant, a sleeveless column style with a plunging neckline and a slit that reaches your mid-thigh. Nothing groundbreaking, but it sticks to your curves like water and makes you feel somewhat more like a person who belongs at a fancy awards show.

“Jimin picked it,” you respond, and you hear Yoongi exhale a laugh.

“He has good taste.”

You turn toward him as your hidden smile pulls into a smirk. “Well, I’m not dressed up for you,” you chide, and you revel in the way his face drops briefly in surprise before he’s able to conceal it. “I’m trying to meet Kendrick.”

“Is that right?”

“Uh-huh.”

You’re thankful that you purposefully padded your schedule with extra time, because you lose nearly every last minute of it stuck in the gridlock of Los Angeles traffic on the night of a huge event.

By the time you make it to the venue, you’re practically nauseous from all the stopping and starting and crawling of the car, and Yoongi looks equally bad, though you suspect his condition might be more anxiety-related.

As it turns out, the Grammys are a lot less glamorous when you’re only mildly famous, at least by American standards. The two of you are shepherded by security to another ‘lane’ of the red carpet and warned not to stop as you make your way into the building. You observe from afar while A-list celebrities pass in a blur, flashbulbs pop bright enough to blind you, and chatter is drowned out by the sound of fans screaming and the clamor of reporters trying to grab the biggest names for an interview.

“I’m so glad I’m not that fucking famous,” Yoongi scoffs, though he doesn’t quite manage to hide the nerves in his voice.

“Come on,” you murmur once you get inside, nodding toward a pop-up bar in a far corner of the lobby. “Take the edge off. And I’m gonna need alcohol if I have to sit through a fucking three-hour show.”

You down your drinks quickly, only a few minutes shy of the time by which you have to be in your seats, and you return from tossing the empties in the trash to see Yoongi eyeing a piano pushed against the far wall, clearly for show. He takes a seat, glancing around as if in fear of getting yelled at, then gently pushes up the key lid.

“Ooh, do Wine!” you tease with a laugh as you drop onto the bench beside him, but he actually does start to play, one foot pressing down on a pedal to keep the sound soft. His fingers alight over the keys, and the song he plucks out is beautiful. It’s a melody that almost feels nostalgic to you, even though you know you’ve never heard it before.

“What is this?” you ask, and he keeps playing as he responds.

“Do you know Sakamoto?”

You hum a no as you shake your head.

His eyes narrow slightly. “Remind me how you work in the music industry?”

A smile plays at your lips, and you roll your eyes. “Shut up. You know I’m a fraud.”

Yoongi doesn’t miss a note when he glances up to meet your gaze. “Are you?”

It’s only now that you realize how close he is: the two of you are basically sitting hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. For a moment, you forget about the Grammys, forget that anyone else is even in the room.

“Excuse me!” A voice snaps you out of the moment, and you scoot away from Yoongi so quickly you nearly topple off the bench. “That’s not meant to be played, and we need everyone to head to their seats, please!” Your face flushes with an embarrassed heat, and Yoongi lifts a hand apologetically as he covers the keys back up.

You stick close to his side so as not to lose him in the large crowd of people. “Bet they’ll let you play whatever piano you want once you have one of those dumb little trophies,” you mutter under your breath, and Yoongi really laughs, like he wasn’t expecting the comment.

Another thing you didn’t necessarily anticipate: the Grammys are fucking long. You knew it would be over three hours, but you realize you severely underestimated how long that time would feel. While the performances are incredible (and you have to dig your nails into the cushion of your seat to keep from squealing when you spot Lil Nas X a few rows in front of you), there’s plenty of filler between them, and it feels a lot drier when you’re physically in the room for it. Even the commercial breaks are far too short for you to have enough time to actually run to the restroom or get another drink.

You’re also starving. “I hate that they don’t serve food at these things,” you hiss to Yoongi during a break, but it’s late enough in the night now that he’s barely speaking, apart from the occasional monotone grunt.

Though you’ve been waiting for it all evening, you still don’t quite know if you’re ready when the host starts to run down the list of nominees for Song of the Year.

As he’s only credited as a writer, they don’t actually say Yoongi’s pseudonym, but pride still squeezes tight in your chest when you see “Suga” spelled out across the on-stage monitors beneath the name of the song.

They get through all the titles in what seems like less than a second, and your heart feels like it might give out as an anticipatory silence settles over the crowd. The host fumbles with getting the envelope open, and you’re so tense, you flinch hard at an unexpected brush of contact.

You glance down, and it takes a moment for your brain to process what’s happened. He’s not looking at you, hasn’t said anything, but Yoongi has nevertheless reached over to grab your hand. His long fingers lace through yours, gripping surprisingly tight, and the skin of his palm is warm and dry. It’s like your brain short-circuits for a moment as you stare stupidly at your joined hands, and he gives yours a single nervous squeeze.

“And the Grammy goes to…”

You look over at him, still dumbfounded, and then you hear them call a song that isn’t his.

Your heart sinks as you watch Yoongi blink up at the screen, his mouth pulled into a flat line. You realize belatedly you’re supposed to be clapping, but his hand is still clasped in yours. And you don’t want to pull away from him.

But then he moves first, untwining his hand from yours and bringing it up to rake through his hair with a disbelieving laugh. A little delayed, you both join in the applause as the winner makes their way to the stage. You can’t even process who it is.

You have no idea what to say to console him, so you don’t say anything at all.

Thankfully the category is one of the last of the night, so you only have to sit through a few more rounds of acceptance speeches and watching other people’s dreams come true before you can finally get to your feet. You feel like you can’t leave fast enough as you’re herded out of the stadium and into another car to depart for the afterparty.

There’s a heavy silence in the backseat that feels like a chasm between you as you crawl through Los Angeles traffic.

You realize there’s a bottle of champagne tucked into an ice bucket behind the front seat— a thoughtful touch from the label execs, you assume. Yoongi spots it at the same time you do, and he immediately reaches for it. With a grunt of effort, he pops the cork, a little bit of excess foam dribbling onto the floor of the car.

He raises his eyebrows at you, then brings the bottle right to his mouth for a long drink. Longer than long. You watch his adam’s apple jump in his throat as he swallows several times.

“Alright, chill the fuck out,” you snap after a few seconds, reaching over to grab it from him. “At least eat something first.”

“It’s my consolation prize,” Yoongi quips, but he lets you wrest the champagne from his hands without resisting. You take a thorough swig yourself, then recork the bottle and drop it back in the bucket. “Such a good little admin,” he purrs, and you try to convince yourself there isn’t a hint of venom in his words.

The car pulls to a stop at the designated hotel, and you climb out after Yoongi. Upon making it inside, the two of you peel off in different directions: him for the bar, and you to find anything that remotely resembles food. You keep glancing over at him from across the room as it fills with more and more people, nervous to take your eyes off him for too long, unsure of what he might do. Every time you find him again, it seems like he’s downing another glass of whiskey, drinking like the fucking world is ending.

Meanwhile, you’re struggling to find anything that isn’t kale, quinoa, or… whatever grain-free bread is. With a frustrated sigh, you finally decide to give up. If Yoongi wants to drink on an empty stomach until he gets alcohol poisoning, you figure that’s his fucking problem.

When you shove your way through the crowd back toward him, you find that he’s been pulled into a conversation with a bunch of older men you can only assume to be local industry reps. As you get close enough to make out their words, you quickly understand why he has such a sour look on his face.

“Song of the Year, huh? You know we can cross-reference the nominees and figure out if you’re full of shit, right?”

Yoongi grimaces politely into his drink as he throws it back, but you have no problem cutting in. “You’re actually speaking to an incredibly accomplished producer and songwriter,” you retort without thinking. “He has over 100 KOMCA credits.” You don’t miss the smirk Yoongi tries to conceal behind the rim of his glass.

“KOMCA?” Another one of them speaks up, the question paired with a harsh laugh. “Never heard of it. That anything like payola?”

“Wild that anyone can just buy their way into the industry these days.” The first man shakes his head, eyes scanning Yoongi up and down as if the tailoring of his suit tells him everything he needs to know. “Guess that’s the way the world works now. Never had to struggle a day in your life, huh?”

Your response is immediate and far too loud. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

A loud laugh ripples through all of the men, clearly more excited about evoking a reaction than the gravity of their claims. “Wow, man,” the one who spoke first chortles, clapping Yoongi hard on the shoulder. “Looks like you need to control your girl.”

Your heart thuds in your chest as you watch Yoongi shrug off the guy’s hand to set his empty glass down on the closest table. He moves slowly, deliberately taking a long pause before correcting them. “This is actually my assistant.” His voice is laced with a deadly calm you know well.

“Assistant?” A third pipes up, acting as if he’s never heard the word before. “Huh. You know, back in my day we just called them secretaries. Or mistresses.”

Yoongi moves so fast you barely have time to process it, lunging forward and shoving the guy in the chest with enough force that he stumbles backwards into his shitty friends. “What the fuck!” one of them shouts, purposefully loud, and you can hear a ripple of shock roll through the crowd, can see heads turning to look your way in alarm.

“No, no, nope,” you immediately mutter. “This is not fucking happening.”

Yoongi is already taking another step toward the group, and you tighten a hand hard around his bicep. “We’re leaving.”

When he whips around to face you, the mixture of anger and pain reflected in his dark eyes is so overwhelming, it hits you like a truck. You try to force yourself to stay calm, because at least one of you has to be.

“Come on, Yoongi,” you say, letting your voice soften. “Fuck this place. I need some real food.” Your eyes search his, pleading. For a moment, you can’t help but wonder if you’re staring down an enemy or a friend.

But then you see the fight go out of him as he nods, and you breathe a silent sigh of relief.

Shifting the hand on his arm to press firmly to the center of his back, you guide him in front of you and wind through the packed room of people until you make your way outside again.

Fate does you one good turn by leaving an empty cab out front, and you push Yoongi into the backseat, then slide in next to him. You lean forward to greet the driver, doing your best to smile politely and act composed, like you didn’t just almost get into a fight at the Grammys afterparty.

“Can you take us to Koreatown, please?”

~*~

The cab drops you off outside a strip of bars and restaurants, lit up with neon signs in both English and Korean. To his credit, Yoongi seems more subdued as he follows you out of the car wordlessly, but you allow him a little more time to cool off in silence. You wander somewhat aimlessly, attempting to shake off your lingering anxiety in the warm evening air, until you stumble upon a food truck parked at the end of the block. Your eyes go wide at the posted signage.

“What do you think?” you ask as you turn to Yoongi, and he shrugs, like he really doesn’t care. Perfect. You’ve never had a problem a gamja hot dog couldn’t fix.

Securing one for each of you, you nod Yoongi toward a small group of tables set up at the curb to sit down. Once seated, you immediately drown your hot dog in ketchup and mustard, and you can hear him scoff before taking the bottles from you to do the same. Admittedly, you must look fairly ridiculous eating fried street food in full black tie, but you’re far too hungry to give a fuck right now.

It’s perfection from the first bite, crispy and hot, the batter studded with potato pieces and the inside loaded with cheese.

You’re also too hungry to bother making conversation at first, but after a few more bites you glance over at Yoongi, and your heart sinks all over again. You really do feel bad, and then the words are leaving your mouth before you can stop them.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur with your mouth full. “That you didn’t win.”

He makes a face as he chews. “We already agreed I wouldn’t have been happy even if I won, right? So it doesn’t really matter.”

You roll your eyes, unconvinced. “It’s okay to have feelings, you know. You’re allowed to be upset.”

Yoongi just shrugs, but he can’t quite meet your gaze. “It’s whatever.” You take another bite as he continues. “If I’m gonna win a Grammy, I want it to be for something that’s all mine anyway.”

The sentence surprises you, and you blink back at him. “You’re going to release your own stuff?”

As if he instantly regrets bringing it up, his face reddens a little, his expression twisting into an unsure grimace. “Ahh… I don’t know, probably not. People know me as a producer. I don’t know that anyone would actually listen to it.”

“I would,” you say without even really thinking, and his eyes widen. “You know,” you continue quickly, adopting a fake-serious tone. “Since I work in the music industry. Strictly business.”

A small smile plays at the corner of his mouth, and you find yourself relieved to see it. “I appreciate that.”

You’re also desperately curious, wondering if he’ll say more about his own music, but he goes quiet again. Given the night he’s had, you don’t exactly want to push it.

Taking the final bite of your hot dog and mourning the loss, you stack your skewer and paper tray on top of Yoongi’s, then get to your feet to toss them in the nearest trash can. When you return to the table, you smack your palms decisively against it.

“Come on. I think the circumstances call for some binge drinking.”

Your first stop is tucked into two seats at a neighboring dive bar, alive and roaring with enough ambient conversation that you have to speak fairly loudly to be heard over the noise. The bar in the center of the room is wrapped around a small open kitchen, where you watch the line cooks hustle to steam, grill, and fry what seems like a never-ending rush of food orders.

You and Yoongi stick to soju, pouring each other shot after shot. On the first one, he tilts his full glass toward you, and you knock yours against it.

“To losing,” he toasts, and you can’t help laughing as you tip your head back to drink. He’s smirking as he swallows his down, then pours you another. “Hey, maybe Jungkook will throw me a commiseration party when we get back.”

You grimace automatically at the name as you take the bottle from him to fill his glass up, and Yoongi doesn’t miss it. “Trouble in paradise?”

With a roll of your eyes, you determine that you need to be drunker for this. You take your shot, then instantly hold your glass out for Yoongi to pour another before he even gets to his. He obliges, and you throw it back immediately. The bottom of your glass hits the bar with a loud thud.

“I kinda… freaked out on him. Right before we left.”

Yoongi’s eyebrow lifts, questioning, as he drinks. “Any reason?” he prompts when he’s finished.

“Yes,” you answer stubbornly, tapping at the rim of your empty glass. He fills you up again, and you return the favor to finish the bottle. Yoongi motions to the bartender for another as you down your shot and steel yourself.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he offers.

“Don’t you want to hear that you were right?��

He shrugs like he can’t argue. “I mean, always.”

“Well for one, he asked if anything was going on between you and me.” You glance over to see Yoongi’s eyes widen slightly as he drinks. “I said no.”

“Uh huh.”

“And then he was like, ‘Good, I’m glad I don’t have to tell you to raise your standards.’”

Yoongi is clearly trying to keep his expression neutral, but it’s a losing battle. You can see the way his shoulders are starting to shake, and then he finally caves in, his palm smacking flat against the bar as he really laughs. “Wow,” he eventually recovers enough to huff, and you reach for the fresh soju bottle that’s been dropped off. “He really just said it.”

“Mm-hmm,” you intone, filling his glass and then handing the bottle back. Yoongi’s still chuckling a little as he pours your drink before taking his own, and you continue. “And then, I don’t know, there was some other stuff, and I was just like… oh fuck.”

“Because you realized he’s in love with you.”

You sigh dejectedly into your soju. “I’m so stupid.”

“Nah,” Yoongi shakes his head, reaching for your glass once you’ve emptied it again. “You wanted to avoid an inconvenient truth. Just makes you human.”

There’s a pause as you take the bottle to pour his drink, and then his next words nearly make you choke as you throw back yours. “You should date Jungkook.”

You’re sure you must look entirely dumbfounded as you stare at him. “What?”

“What?” he retorts, like he hasn’t said anything shocking. “He’d be good for you.”

For a long moment, neither of you speak as you regard him. You finally shake your head, nudging your empty glass toward him until he gets the memo. “Don’t say shit like that,” you mutter under your breath, and you’re not sure if he hears it over the din of the bar.

“Besides,” you continue as you snatch the soju out of his hands to pour his drink, “I’ve tried dating a coworker before. It’s a bad idea.”

“Sounds like a good story.”

“It’s not, really,” you murmur, staring down at the liquid in your glass. “My last job I was a waitress.”

“Mm,” Yoongi interrupts with a hum as he takes his shot. “Waitress. I was close.”

You pour him another, mostly to keep him quiet. “Yeah yeah, you’re very fucking perceptive. Anyway, I dated another server for a couple years. He ended up cheating on me with one of the hostesses, but I was honestly kinda tired of him, so I was glad to end it.” You hear Yoongi snort a little at your fairly heartless admission. “But then I walked in on them fucking in the walk-in, and it put me in a bad mood. Long story short, I ended up throwing a drink on a customer and they had to let me go.”

“Christ,” he laughs, pausing for a moment to fully take in your words. “And now you’re a pain in my ass.”

You roll your eyes as you motion for another soju bottle. “Correct.”

“Sounds like your ex was an idiot.” You glance over to find Yoongi already looking at you. “I mean, in the walk-in is just… nasty.”

“That’s what I said!” Your mouth pulls up at the corners as you try to suppress a giggle. “I don’t think we can really judge anybody though.”

Yoongi blinks, staring blankly into the middle distance. “That conference room trash can condom still haunts me.”

With a loud laugh, you bury your face in your hands, and you can feel your cheeks burning from alcohol and embarrassment. You peer between your fingers as Yoongi sets down a fresh shot for you, and you gladly take it.

“People are stupid,” he remarks wisely. “That’s why I don’t date.” You quirk an eyebrow as he passes you the bottle.

“What, a prize like you?” you deadpan. “You just fuck people in bar bathrooms like a well-adjusted human?”

“Yeah,” he admits with a shrug. “So. Wanna check this one out?”

Your mouth drops open in disbelief, and you immediately smack him on the arm. He nearly spills his drink from laughter, and you can’t keep yourself from laughing a little, too. “I already gave it to you this morning, you freak.”

“Come on,” Yoongi’s voice is teasing, and he bumps his shoulder against yours when he leans in closer. “I had a hard night.”

Pouring him another drink is your only distraction, and you do it with the utmost focus. “This dress is a rental.”

“I can pay for it.” The heat of his breath ghosts over your collarbone as he answers. You shove the bottle hard into his chest, and he takes the cue to fill your glass again, still smirking as he pulls away.

“First,” you say, sounding more confident than you feel, especially with the way your pulse has started to quicken. Your expression is deadly serious as you turn to stare into Yoongi’s eyes and he stares right back. “You have to prove that you can keep up.”

When you swallow your shot easily to punctuate the dare, a look flashes over Yoongi’s face like he’s impressed, and then he follows your lead.

After a few more bottles, the bar is so crowded and so loud that you can hardly hear yourselves think, and you stumble out of it and into the next place you see, and then the next, and then the next. All bets are off tonight, and you’re not about to tell Yoongi that he can’t get fucking trashed considering he just lost at the fucking Grammys. You figure you’ll be able to sleep off your hangovers on the stupidly long flight home tomorrow.

With each stop, Yoongi’s mood seems to improve a little. He eventually drinks enough that his suit jacket and tie come off, and they end up draped over your shoulders, despite your loud protests that you don’t need any more responsibilities. With the sleeves of his white button-down pushed up, it gets increasingly hard to divert your attention away from his hands and the muscles in his forearms, especially as you get progressively drunker and drunker.

Yoongi’s palm brushes over the small of your back as you make your way out of the last place, his touch warm even through the velvet of your dress.

“I know it was your personal nightmare,” he murmurs, words slurring together slightly, “but I really am glad you came on this trip. I mean it,” he insists when you shoot him a look. “I would be fucking insufferable if I was alone tonight. And I definitely would’ve punched that label guy in the face.”

You exhale a laugh and nearly fall over in your heels, and Yoongi’s hand slips to your waist to keep you upright. “He deserved it.” You lean into him, not entirely for balance, and you can feel it when he shrugs.

“Sorry you didn’t get to meet Kendrick.”

The glow of the various open-late establishments and the glitter of the pavement under your feet are all beautiful, especially in your current state, and the night air is still and warm. As you approach the next building and are met with the dull thud of music, your eyes go wide.

“Oh, I just figured out how you can make it up to me.”

The noraebang is surprisingly busy given that it’s a Sunday night, but you’re still able to book a room, and you giggle your thanks as Yoongi opens his wallet to pay the hourly rate like it’s nothing. The two of you work your way through more bottles of beer and soju, and when you start up the karaoke and teasingly pick the HEIZE song he produced, you’re surprised that he actually joins you.

Yoongi must be able to read the expression on your face, because he smirks mid-song. “Let the record show that I am actually a very fun drunk.”

And he is. You sing dramatically and loudly, not caring if you hit the notes, jumping and dancing and occasionally dropping passionately to your knees before dissolving into laughter. At first you monopolize the controller, but after you force a third Kendrick song on him Yoongi gestures for it, and you begrudgingly hand it over.

Crossing the room, you kneel down to dig through the provided box of props, immediately spotting and slipping on a cat-eared headband. You glance up at the screen, eyes widening as you realize he’s searching through Epik High songs. “Do Love Love Love!”

When you look back at him, Yoongi is squinting at you, laughing a little at your new set of ears. “What the fuck do you know about Epik High?”

“What do you mean what the fuck do I know?” you snap back. “I love them! I should be asking you that question, Mr. ‘I don’t listen to music’!”

His mouth pulls into a grin, his tongue toying at the inside of his cheek. “I have a few exceptions, alright?”

Still knelt down, you flop sideways onto the floor when he selects Born Hater. “Ugh, I’m too drunk to say that many words.”

“I got this,” Yoongi reassures you, flipping his microphone coolly with one hand as he gets to his feet. You can’t help giggling dumbly from your spot on the ground as you drunkenly prop your feet on the booth and reach up to pull your high heels off.

If there’s one thing tonight has taught you, it’s that Yoongi has a really good voice, even raw and live and drunk as hell. You don’t know why it surprises you, but it does. To you, performing seems like a different world from writing and producing tracks, but he does it just as effortlessly, with no trace of the anxiety you’ve seen grip him in a crowded room. The passion in the way he growls and gasps out lyrics, even just in the way he moves, it’s all undeniable and exhilarating to watch. He raps like he has nothing left to lose, mouth pulled into a snarl, occasionally reaching up to push his sweaty hair back off his forehead.

You can only gaze up at him, awestruck, wondering how many different versions of Min Yoongi you have left to discover until you hit the bottom.

The two of you trade the controller back and forth until every bottle on the table is empty, until the words blur on the screen, until Yoongi flops over to lay down in the booth with his head hanging off the edge, clearly exhausted. “No more,” he groans. “I’m so tired. And so drunk.”

Hovering above him, you pry the controller from his grip with a smile, slipping the cat ears onto his head for an even exchange. And then you get an idea.

“Last song!” you assure him as you type, and he groans even louder when Cat & Dog starts to play.

“God, this song is terrible,” Yoongi complains, but you’re singing too loud to care about his critiques.

With a severe amount of effort, he pulls himself to a sitting position, and you kneel down in front of him, miming cat paws with your hands and wiggling your hips. “I didn’t know you were into petplay,” he deadpans, and you stick your tongue out, determined not to let him ruin your fun.

You get to your feet and turn toward the screen as the second chorus finishes, yelling over your shoulder, “This is my favorite part!”

“Feel like Cinderella naega byeonae—”

When Yoongi’s voice suddenly reverberates from the other microphone, you almost drop yours. You whip around in complete disbelief. He’s on his feet and moving towards you as he continues the rap verse, the inarguable best part, with a renewed cocky energy. And you have to admit, he’s putting Yeonjun to shame.

“What the fuck!” you practically scream, but he just keeps going.

Seized by full-body drunk laughter, you stumble forward and nearly fall over, knocking into his chest. Though Yoongi’s reflexes are a little delayed, he still manages to right you without missing a word, one arm hooking around your waist. You swallow hard as you suddenly find yourself intimately close to the broad sweep of his collarbone, exposed between the top buttons of his shirt that came undone at some point during your debaucherous evening.

Fumbling for your microphone, you make it back to reality in time for the final chorus, only to fall entirely to pieces when Yoongi starts barking at full volume to match the outro. You can’t take it, and he’s not fast enough to keep you upright, so you drop straight down to the floor on hands and knees, laughing so hard it feels like your lungs might give out.

The microphone rolls dejectedly out of your grasp as you flop over onto your back, and you scrub your hands down your face, trying desperately to catch your breath as the song fades out.

“That was the best thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life,” you mumble into your palms. You uncover your face to look up at Yoongi, only to find him laughing down at you, still wearing the fucking cat headband. “I thought you hated that song.”

He rolls his eyes despite his smile. “Yeah, well, it was also stuck in my head for like a week after you played it that one night.”

You sit up with a dramatic glare. “Oh, you mean the night you stole my fucking keys?”

A proud smirk flickers over his mouth. “You know, I am sorry about that. Or at least sorry I couldn’t see the look on your face when you realized.” He tosses his microphone onto the booth bench next to his abandoned suit jacket, then reaches down with both hands to pull you to your feet. It belatedly occurs to you that you might’ve left his tie at the last bar, but you’re too drunk to give it another thought.

“I hate you so much,” you say, though you can’t quite keep your expression serious. “Fuck, I should’ve taken a video. Could’ve used it for blackmail.”

Yoongi’s voice is lower when he speaks again, and you’re suddenly very aware of how close to you he is, the fact that his hands are still closed over yours. “Guess you’re the only one who’ll ever know.”

“Mmm,” you hum, swaying a little where you stand. His palms slip to your waist to keep you steady as you blink up at him, and your hands flatten against his chest, your fingertips tracing over the buttons of his shirt. “You look good in cat ears.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi murmurs, and then his mouth is on yours.

Your hands reach up to tangle in his long dark hair, knocking the headband to the floor, and with the amount of alcohol currently coursing through your system, you don’t have a single inhibition left in you. You kiss Yoongi like you can’t fucking breathe without him.

He pulls you as close as he can, until your bodies are flush all the way down, and you don’t ever want it to be any other way. You want it just like this, sucking and nibbling at his bottom lip until his tongue licks your mouth open and you groan into him. Just like this: his palms moving down to grab your ass unapologetically, your grip on his hair tightening, even your teeth knocking together with how drunk and desperate you are for each other. Just like this: two stupid, wildly flawed humans in black tie attire, making out in a Ktown noraebang at two in the morning on a Monday.

The sound of the door opening might as well be a gunshot for how loud it feels, and you just barely manage to jump apart as an employee pokes their head in.

“Hey, we’re closing in five.”

You don’t realize you’re not breathing until you hear the door click shut again, and your gasp for air quickly turns into an overwhelmed, embarrassed laugh. Yoongi groans drunkenly, running a hand through his hair, then sighs out a long exhale, like he’s trying to calm down.

“Come on,” you giggle, still close enough to tug playfully at one of his belt loops. “Let’s get out of here.”

Thankfully a cab is still easy to flag down even this late. The two of you manage to pour yourselves into the backseat and give the driver the name of the hotel. It’s not a terribly long drive, and you watch wide-eyed out the window as the sprawl of Los Angeles rushes by, painted in neon glow and the amber wash of streetlights.

Yoongi slumps against you, and he goes quiet for so long you think he might be asleep. When he finally shifts again, he presses his face into your shoulder with a noise of discomfort, and you’re suddenly worried he might be silent for a very different reason.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, trying to keep your voice low. “Don’t puke in the cab.”

“Stupid,” he responds, and you figure he must not be doing that bad if he can still talk.

You run your fingers through the soft, dark strands of his hair, admiring the texture, the way it’s nearly long enough now to graze his shoulders. “What’s stupid?”

“I’m—” he tries, but the car dips over a pothole, and he’s talking so quietly you lose the rest.

“You’re what?”

It’s quiet for a moment, save for the click of the turn signal.

“In love with you.”

His words stun you where you sit, and you have no idea what to do, say, think. You just keep twining your fingers through his hair, like you’re stuck on auto-pilot, distantly aware that every alarm bell in your inebriated brain is going off. It feels like way too much to try and process any of it right now. It feels like a trap.

“We can talk about this tomorrow,” you finally answer. Yoongi just stays slumped against you, and he doesn’t say another word.

The cab drops you off at the hotel, and it’s quiet between the two of you as you get him up to the room. You feel like you’re watching yourself from a distance, and it’s like your brain isn’t processing any of this as really happening, as if to keep you from thinking too hard about the big picture. From what it all could mean.

In the bathroom, you stand over the sink as you lend Yoongi your makeup remover and you both brush your teeth.

“Contacts,” you remind him through a mouthful of toothpaste when he spits out the last of his, and he nods sleepily.

“You don’t have to… administrate me all the time,” Yoongi slurs as he carefully slips one lens and then the other out of his eyes.

You spit out your own toothpaste, then sigh as you rinse the sink clean. “Well, you’re very drunk, and it’s my fault.”

“It was fun,” he says quietly, fumbling the case closed.

“It was,” you echo. “Really.”

The bathroom door is half-open on its sliding track, and you glance up in the mirror to see Yoongi hovering in the threshold, looking back at you as you wipe away stray traces of mascara from under your eyes. You think he’s going to leave, but then he steps in behind you again, and you feel his hand slide up the small of your back to ease the zipper of your dress open.

Something in your heart twists as you stare down at the marble counter, and you can already tell this isn’t meant to be flirtatious. That thought is confirmed when you finally look up, only to find yourself left entirely alone.

With a small sigh, you slide the bathroom door shut, then flip the switch to turn on the fan. The white noise still doesn’t feel like enough, so you run the shower as well, then grab a plastic water bottle from the counter to chug. You retreat into the far corner with your phone, scrolling until you find the name of the only person who can possibly help you right now.

“Hey babe,” Jimin answers on the third ring. “I’m at rehearsal so I really can’t chat. You good?”

“Yoongi said he loves me,” you answer immediately, and the reality of it hits you impossibly hard as soon as you say it out loud.

“Uh-oh.”

“But,” you lean back until your head knocks against the wall. “He’s drunk as shit. I— we are drunk as shit.”

There’s a pause, and you swear you hear Jimin laugh a little under his breath. “He really said it, huh?”

“Yes, Jimin,” you groan. “In love.”

“And?”

You grimace at the flippant response from your supposed best friend. “What do you mean and?! What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Well, that depends,” Jimin starts.

“On?” you snap, impatient.

“Have you realized you’re in love with him yet? ‘Cause if I have to hear you babble on about this man for another week without piecing it together, I really might lose it.”

His words actually make your stomach churn. “Jimin!”

“I—” he sounds like he’s preparing to explain himself, but then he pauses, and his voice is quieter when he speaks again. “Fuck, I’m getting yelled at. I gotta go. Call me tomorrow.”

You want to scream at him to stay, to help, that he can’t just unravel you like this and then leave you to figure it out for yourself. “Mochi, I’m on the fucking plane tomorrow—”

“I’ll come over when you get home!” Jimin interrupts. “And then you can tell me the entire story of you two finally figuring out how to be normal humans with feelings.” You scoff at his biting remark, but he’s already talking over you. “You’re smart, you got this, I love you!”

You hear him blow a dramatic kiss into the speaker, and then the line goes dead.

The world spins around you as you stare helplessly at the silent black screen of your phone, and you can’t shove it all down anymore. It’s overwhelming, all of the things that you’re feeling in this moment, so much so that you can’t even identify what you feel. It’s just a giant, tangled mess, in your brain and in your heart. The tears spill out like you’ve been holding them in for weeks, hard and fast, until you can scarcely catch your breath. You scrub at the first few that roll down your cheeks, but they continue relentlessly, and you eventually give up and just let it all pour out.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, crying on the bathroom floor. You can’t even really explain why you’re crying, except that everything inside of you feels like too much to handle.

There’s a dull ache in your head by the time you finally manage to cry yourself dry, and then you peel yourself off the floor to slip out of your dress and shut off the shower. You pull on the tank top and sleep shorts you’d grabbed earlier from the bedroom, trying to avoid your swollen face in the mirror as you turn the lights out and shut the door behind you.

Yoongi has left the lamp on your bedside on, and you immediately flip it off to plunge the room into darkness, not wanting him to see you like this. He stirs slightly when you slip under the covers, and you can feel the mattress shift as he turns over.

Like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his arm slides over your stomach to pull your body flush to his, and his lips brush at the join of your neck and shoulder. As confusing as it should be, there’s something about the weight of him pressed into you that relaxes you, even through your current haze of emotion. You allow yourself to sink back against him, to breathe deeper, though your inhales are still a little shaky.

Yoongi’s rough voice in your ear pulls you up from the edge of sleep. “Did I fuck everything up?”

You sniff softly, and your own reply is barely more than a whisper. “No, Yoongi, it’s okay. Let’s just sleep."

As you hear him settle in beside you again, you make a promise that you’ll deal with the fallout tomorrow. You’ll figure out how you really feel, and how he does, and what you want, and what the hell you’re supposed to do about it all. But tonight, you just want this: to lay here with Yoongi and pretend your entire world isn’t about to change when you wake up.

chapter eight | masterlist | chapter ten

A/N: oh hiiiiii, super secret bonus author's note down here!!! just wanted to share that, now that we're officially through the grammys, that means we are down to just two more chapters left in the series!!! i held off confirming the full length of LDOMLT until we got to this point (and honestly i could've easily split this into two chapters but i am NICE and i did not give you the WORST CLIFFHANGER OF ALL TIME LMAO) - but now i'm sure. chapter 11 will be the final one. gonna do my best to get 10 and 11 up before end of year, or by very early 2023 at the latest!!! and thank u, as always, for reading 💜💜💜

#yoongi smut #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts x reader #look down on me like that

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kyojurismo · 1 year

Note

That was 🤌 *chefs kiss*

don’t wanna be pushy or annoying but maybe a douma x fem!reader nsfw 🥴

▸ ANSWERING. first of all, i’m glad you enjoyed that <3 here’s the nsfw piece, i hope you’ll like even tho i’m not very proud of the initial part lol. thank you for both requests btw !!

▸ INTRO. douma gets impatient while you’re trying on his precious gifts.

▸ FANDOM. kimetsu no yaiba

▸ CHARACTERS. douma (upper rank two) x fem!reader

▸ WORD COUNT. 655

▸ RATING. nsfw

▸ WARNINGS. smut +18 only, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, douma using pet names (darling x2 and love), no beta reader + lemme know if i missed something pls

you were trying on the new kimonos douma bought for you. they were very expensive and you tried to handle them with care. it was probably the repeated image of your breasts that got him impatient, or maybe it was his plan all along.

“my sweet darling,” douma called for you, smiling innocently. “i love how they suit you, can you come closer?” he asked, keeping his tone calm and gentle. you turned around and smiled at him, before getting closer to his sitting figure. his elbow was resting on his knee, his rainbow eyes scanned your body and you noticed it just now. he looked hungry.

“what is it, douma-sama?” you asked timidly. he didn’t answered, but grabbed the end of the kimono you were trying on with a fist and made the obi fall on the ground. your body was exposed to his attentive and hungry eyes and soon you found yourself kneeling in front of him. you gasped for the surprise and your cheeks heated up, noticing douma studying your figure.

his hands found your hips and pulled you closer. “you’re so beautiful, and all mine! can you believe that?” he exclaimed, showing you his fangs while smiling widely. you knew he wasn’t truly expecting an answer from you, so instead you leaned closer and kissed his lips. they were cold but soft against yours and douma was quick to reciprocate the kiss, gently grabbing your cheeks and tilting your head to his liking.

you put your hands on his chest, seeking contact with his body. douma smirked against your lips and moved his mouth to your neck and to your chest. “d-douma-sama…” you whispered, closing your eyes. his kisses and his touch caused shivers to run down your spine, you could feel excitement pooling between your thighs. he moved his large hands on your breasts, caressing your skin; it was burning hot in comparison to douma’s cold one. his fingers pinched your nipples playfully, making you moan. “lay down for me, darling,” he ordered, before pushing you down gently.

douma tried to not be selfish and took his time to taste you. two of his fingers were able to slip into you due to the amount of wetness gushing out of your warm clenching hole. your moans filled the room and it was music to his ears, noticing your hands that were desperately pulling at his hair, your quivering hips and shaking legs trying to cage his body between them to hold him closer to your body.

“please!” you almost screamed in frustration; you were close to release but you just needed a bit more stimulation to actually get there. “take what i give you,” douma growled against your cunt, holding your hips down against the floor. his fingers finally moved faster, the familiar squelching sound filled both your ears and your mouth fell open in a silent scream while you arched your back. douma added a third finger and found the spot inside your warm channel that made you see stars.

you gushed around his long fingers while he kept sucking and licking your clit, throbbing due to overstimulation. your heart was beating so fast you felt it in your ears; douma let his fingers slip out of you, a wide smile spread on his lips. you tiredly looked down at him, watching him licking his fingers clean to taste more of you. your face hot both for the intense orgasm and for his shameless action.

“you know, my love… i think you’re the best meal i’ve ever had.”

▸ BEFORE LEAVING. reblog and comments are super appreciated! thank you for reading, tiny friendly reminder that english is not my first language and i apologise for any possible error. i truly hope you enjoyed it, have a good day / night ♡

#📂 — writing !!#douma x reader #douma x y/n #douma x you #douma drabble #douma blurb #douma imagine #douma one shot #douma fanfic #douma smut #demon slayer douma smut #kny douma #demon slayer douma #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba one shot #demon slayer #demon slayer one shot

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fandomfluffandfuck · 4 months

Note

that sock garters post + your businessman steve tags.... mr s i am thinking!!! baby bucky on his knees, while steve instructs him to take it off using only his mouth 😩

'no hands, pup', steve says to him, while bucky whines on the floor, the leash attached to his collar willing him to obey, to be good for his daddy 🥴

related to this

I AM SO GLAD YOU SENT THIS ASK.

I was thinking about that, and, in my head, I just... all I see is this Steve:

I know that was a suit for a funeral in the film but, just, put that out of your mind for now. Focus on how good he looks...

His square jaw and perfect, swept back hair paired with his smart sunglasses and sure mouth. The jacket is perfectly tailored to his broad, wide shoulders, and that classic white shirt and waistcoat underneath are well fitted, too. His waistcoat even has a cinch in the back to fit his sculpted, trim waist--extenuating it. His belt is polished and tight, holding his slacks in place, showing off the length of his legs with their traditional, straight fit. The fabric of his slacks is smooth and makes the softest, most pleasant swish, swish, swish as he struts, all confidence and power. Heads turn, necks break.

There are details throughout. The cinch of his waistcoat. The perfectly pressed fabric. The butter-soft, shining leather of his belt and shoes. There are even details where they're invisible, underneath that perfect, polished exterior--his sleeveless undershirt has even been pressed and clings to him like a second skin, his briefs are clinging and smooth as well, and, of course, his socks and their garters.

Steve slipped his feet into his sensible, all black work socks early, just after briskly showering, styling his hair with a round brush and blow drier, whistling to pass the time, dressing himself meticulously, building his outfit from his classic wardrobe, and setting his coffee to start. He points his toes and steps into them after rolling the legs of his pants up to just below his knees. After, he soothes any creases in his socks. He pulls the elastic garters up, attaches them, and takes another moment to smooth things out. He slides into his shiny, unblemished work shoes. Then, he unrolls his slacks, hiding his socks and garters. Finally, he stands, rising to his full, impressive height, buttons his suit jacket and swiftly moves into the kitchen, catching his coffee and toast. There's enough time for a quick flick through the newspaper, sitting at their wooden dining table in the open-plan kitchen and hosting space, before he has to run off to work, smelling like coffee and subtle cologne.

On especially bright, ideal days, Bucky wakes up in time to bundle himself in a fuzzy robe, tumble his way out of bed--half rubbing the sleep from his eyes and half winding his hair into a bed-headed mess that's more out of his face, tied back--to lean against the kitchen doorway, watching his immaculate partner go through his well-timed routine. There's always an extra minute for Steve to hum at the sight of him, planting a kiss on his sleep-warm cheek, and hand him the last half of his coffee in its pleasantly steaming mug.

So, yes, Steve is the well-dressed, well-mannered every day man. When he wants to, he has the skills to talk his way into and out of anything. It's why he makes a fantastic business man.

But...

That's also why he makes such a perfect dominant. He can come home from a long, busy day, a sigh on the cusp of falling from his lips, but restrain. He doesn't need to resort to such frivolous, even childish actions like pouting when he instead can allow himself to settle on the wooden bench in their home's entryway for a moment. Before he can even reach for his shoes himself, his wonderful partner and pet is scrambling to greet him--always such a pretty, eager thing.

"Daddy," his eyes are bright, and so is his voice, even if it's mostly breath. A gorgeous sort of purr.

"Buck," Steve hums, eagerly drinking in the way he folds onto his knees between Steve's thighs. Once he's in position, Steve lets one heavy, big hand card through his long, silky hair. He loves the way it glides through his hands like water. "Hi, puppy."

"Hi," such a sweet thing, he's already blushing. Warm and affectionate, just like a puppy should be.

"How was your day, pup?" Steve asks, genuinely curious.

"Good," Bucky brushes a warm kiss to his knee, "did the usual."

"That's good," he approves.

"Mmm-hmm," Bucky bites his lip.

Watching over the handsome, slightly-crooked line of his nose, Steve inquires, "anything elsw you want to ask, pup?"

"Uh," he flushes a shade darker, "uh-huh."

"Ask away then, silly boy," he rumbles.

His puppy gives a happy wiggle, "can I..." he drags his sky-blue eyes down the line of his legs, "can I help, Daddy?"

"I'd love that, Buck," he smiles.

"Okay," he wiggles again. If he had a tail, it'd be thumping against the floor. His whole body leans closer to the floor, too, squirming down and reaching for the laces of his shoes.

"No hands, pup, remember your manners," Steve murmurs. His chest full and happy.

Bucky audibly swallows what should've been a whine. His excitement boiling over, "yes, Daddy," he whispers.

Then, his sweet boy brings his mouth to the tops of his shoes and delicately positions the aglet between his front teeth, tugging his head back gently, just enough to unwind the tie. He loosens his shoelaces carefully--right then left--and is extra careful and affection to nose around his ankles. Nuzzling in. Tracing the sharp, strong shapes of the lateral and medial melleolus as well as the front of his tibia through his socks and slacks. Bucky's curious nose is vaguely cold, but Steve doesn't care.

When he asks so prettily for help, Steve lifts his feet, one then the other in turn, out of his dress shoes. Then, Bucky takes the first of his shoes into his mouth, holding it securely but not hard enough to leave teeth marks in the nice, polished leather, and crawls on his hands and knees across the entryway to place the shoe in the appropriate place on their organized rack. The handsome sway of his hips as he moves is hypnotic. The only thing that would make this better would be if he were naked--Steve knows the wings of his shoulderblades, the notches of his spine, the breadth of his hips, and the length of this thighs well. But a reminder never hurt anyone.

Bucky fetches and returns the second shoe just as beautifully as he does the first.

He's breathtaking even in the poor, dim evening lighting of the front of their house. Well trained and so obedient. He melts stunningly into his role--little hearts in his hazy eyes, lips pink, warm breaths so heated with content pleasure they come out in soft clouds. Perfect.

They eat dinner in near silence, comfortable and unhurried. The clink and clanking of their plates, cutlery, and glasses.

Then, they end the evening with Bucky back at his feet, one of his hands securely wrapped around Steve's ankle, before he changes out of his work clothes. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, Bucky's fingers flirt with the tops of his socks and the garters keeping them in place. Mindless. He's so sweet and pretty, it's all Steve can do to pull him into his lap, wrap his legs around his waist, and carry him to bed where he scarcely can unzip and pull himself out before ravaging him on their perfectly made bed.

Steve thrusts into him deep and hard, his arousal coiling tightly in the carnal pleasure of his hot, wet body, of course, but mostly he pulls his arousal from the watery, overwhelmed tears building in his puppy's eyes and the soft, helpless whines he makes and the trembling pout of his lips made especially worse when Steve spares one hand from holding his weight up over his puppy, rutting into him, to choke him instead.

Bucky paws at his wrist with both hands, not trying to get him to stop, trying to make him grab harder even as he gasps and moans silently.

Steve vows right then and there that tomorrow, he's calling off work, and they're going to go shopping. His puppy needs a collar and leash. He's so well trained that he doesn't need them to obey, but his Daddy wants it. He wants it all. He wants him so bad. His good boy. He wants it complete with a tag, silver inscribed with his contact information. His puppy.

"Mine." Steve growls, kissing him on the mouth. Hard.

"Yes!" Bucky cries, his eyes rolling back, so stuffed full of cock that he's choking--he'd be choking even if there weren't a hand on his throat.

Yes yes yes, oh, God, yes, he feels so owned and fucked and good.

#asks #fandomfluffandfuck #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #dom steve #sub bucky

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sebsxphia · 1 year

Note

Alright. Here we go. We’ve all seen Glen’s story. Him looking down at you like that? Jail.

Jake in that black suit and you in formal attire as well having come home from some event. You’d been a brat the whole time. Teasing him, whispering what you wanted him to do to you when you got home.

He’s now got you on your knees. Gagging you with his tie while he secured your wrists behind your back with some sink 😵‍💫

- Teddy 🧸💖

@thesluttyarchivist i b-lined so quickly to this i’m not even ashamed 🥴 for reference -

you sauntered through your doorway and into your hallway first with jake trailing behind. the car ride home had been tense the whole way home to say the least. your incessant teasing didn’t stop at the navy event, oh no. you’d continued it in the car with your hand squeezing his thigh and getting cosy into his side, whispering the worst things you wanted to do to him. jake could barely focus on his driving, his jaw set firm and his knuckles gripping the wheel so tightly they turned white.

the door was shut behind him and clicked and locked shut. no one was getting in or out for the rest of the night. you were trapped. you had already made your way upstairs to your en-suite, not before turning on your heel and flashing him a shit eating grin, your hips swaying as you fled to the safety of your bedroom.

you caught jake’s hungry gaze in the reflection of the mirror as you shedded your earrings and took down your hair. what you failed to notice was the thin stretch of rope jake had somehow retrieved from your bedroom drawer without you realizing. he ran it through his palm with a ‘whip’ sound causing to ripple through the air.

“ooh. gonna tie me up, lieutenant? i wished you would’ve done that earlier.” you taunted him.

jake let out a snarl and his lip curled upwards. in mere seconds he hoisted you up onto the bathroom counter top and he had your wrists attached to the faucet behind you with the rope.

“you do wish you had that earlier didn’t you? want all my squad to watch as i fuck you.”

you let out a yelp as he secured your wrists tighter.

“mm, i wish they could. maybe it would even help me come.”

jake barked out a laugh.

“you won’t be coming tonight.”

you let out a whine in protest but jake had already un-done his black tie and was placing it in between your teeth. “shut that pretty mouth up. you’re so fucking needy. can’t you go one night without practically begging me to fuck you? i shouldn’t even give this to you right now. you don’t deserve it.”

jake zipped down his trousers just enough to free his painfully hard cock from your night of being a total fucking brat. your dress was hitched around your thighs and jake seated himself inside of you so easily it earned a low chuckle from the blonde.

you were bucking into his pelvis and trying to meet his thrusts, trying to gain any sort of friction you could on your clit but the restraints behind you kept you from moving too far forward. you babbled out some nonsense but it was muffled by jake’s tie gagging your mouth.

“hm, what was that sweets? not so talkative now are you? oh wait, that’s because you’re stuffed with daddy’s fucking tie like a needy brat.”

there was drool dripping out the corner of your mouth and off your chin. jake lazily reached up and smeared it across your cheek, laughing again in your face. jake barely had a hair out of place, while you had your own saliva drying on your rosy cheeks and your thighs stinging red from his vice like grip.

jake let out a taunting ‘tsk’ sound followed by his cruel words that turned you on an embarrassing amount. “fucking look at yourself, you made a mess. you’re such a messy slut.”

thank you so, so much for this thot my beloved!! i’m not even embarrassed how quickly this thought was conjured up between the two of us 🥴💌💖

#💌you’ve got mail #thesluttyarchivist #💍 my husband <33 #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman x y/n #hangman x y/n #hangman x you #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n

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larcenywrites · 1 year

Note

could you write headcanons for what oral sex (giving and receiving) is like with tony (young tony and/or regular tony, whatever you prefer)? thank you so much in advance!

fuuuuuck 🥴 you know I can’t keep it to only one of ‘em 😮‍💨

Headcanons | Oral Sex

young!Tony Stark

Receiving. He probably didn't really care whether or not a night's lay sucked him off or not. Like, sure, it was a nice addition, but he was also impatient and just wants to fuck 😪 But not only does he have a different sort of attachment to you, but you seem to really enjoy doing it regularly, so he'll warm up pretty quick to seeing you struggle to fit his cock in your mouth and feeling you moan when you take him in your throat. In fact, he'll find himself craving it

Lick and kiss up his shaft and play with that pool of arousal leaking from his slit. It'll be the only time you can get him to relax into a nice long tease, and he'll be watching you with a faintly interested poker face and a smug grin barely pulling at his lips. He probably prefers to be laid up in the bed than standing, and that's surely more comfortable for you! As horny as he always is, he does like for you to start off slow. Slowly suck his head in and out of your mouth a few times, and don't be afraid to tease him with a little teeth 🤭 And he won't mind a light scrape of teeth when you're on your way back up once you finally make your way down. The hands in your hair will definitely be restraining themselves from pushing you further when he touches the back of your throat, but it won't be hard to convince him to give in to his need to fuck into you.

You're both going to figure out real fast that he's into praise and cock worship, and while he prefers to cum inside you, he's going to get off just as much when you lick his cum from your fingers or take it all down your throat when you let him press into you. He cums a lot, especially if you get him really horny with something new or manage to edge him for a while 🫠 And if you're willing to clean it up, he'll be ready again in no time from just watching you eat his cum. He'll gather that stray white streak on your cheek with a swipe of his thumb and shovel it into your mouth. Suck his thumb while he does it and he'll go feral. Honestly, he might even lick up that white streak himself and make out with you 🥴

Seeing you get on your knees in any context is ruined now, especially when you turn to look up at him. You may get shoved into the nearest bathroom with lips on your neck and a hand guiding yours to the erection between his legs, or he's pouncing on you as soon as you get back home! He's not exactly quiet, but giving him head is probably the easiest sexual activity to get away with when someone's home or on a short amount of time 😌

Giving. You'll be surprised to learn he's never given head before, especially when he's so damn good at it 🥵 He never really cared, even after whoever he was with for the night sucked him off, but with you he can't wait to return the favor, and he can't wait to taste you 🥴 And once he does, he's diving between your legs as often as he can. He's a quick learner, so he'll map out what you like and how you like it pretty fast.

He's diving in tongue first every time! He's flattening his tongue and licking up and down your pussy and tortuously catching your clit at that angle that makes you squirm several times before teasing circles at your entrance. He's not afraid to dip in for a better taste a few times either 😏 That tongue knows just how to massage and twirl your clit, and keep you squirming on the edge when he stops to suck it between his teeth a few times. He'll stop for a few moments when you're done cumming to soothe you with soft kisses everywhere from your opening to your thighs, and hopefully you don't mind that he's still messy when he reaches your lips. He isn't afraid to add in a finger or two while he does it, and once he figures out how to make you squirt, it's fucking over for you 🫠

Close your legs around him, and he'll happily stay buried between them! Sit on his face for hours if you want- if you can. It won't take long before you're an overstimulated mess, and the grip in his hair and the hands pushing at his shoulders with a whine only stirs him on. The arms wrapped around your thighs are only getting tighter, and he's only going to cozy into you more. He's addicted to making you a whimpering and soaking mess before fucking you, and he can't help but rub himself against the bed and moan with you. Sometimes just eating you out is enough to make him cum 😮‍💨

Speaking of cum, he may not have another round in him or maybe he came before you, but he will absolutely eat you out to keep you going even with his cum still dripping from you 🫠

Calls you princess when he's eating you out 🥴 with bites and kisses to your thighs before he starts and when he's done

And if you aren't waking up when he needs you to, he'll make sure you're ready for him when you do 😉

Unfortunately, you two rarely have the time for all of that fucking and foreplay, as someone is bound to be home or come home soon, so when someone's parents are on vacation and the house is free for a few days… you'll be a shaking mess once he's through with finally having his way with you all weekend 😮‍💨

Tony Stark

Receiving. FUCK. Loves seeing you so eager to fit his dick in your mouth, and loves making you get on your knees. He loves seeing you on your knees and desperate to unbuckle his belt. It's rare that you'll get away with sex without sucking him off first, and if he's been busy and/or frustrated, whether in the middle working on something at his desk or on the couch, he's more than happy to have you settling between his legs to ease some of that tension. And if you don't, he'll be calling you over to let you know how you can help 😏

Definitely start off slow. In fact, tell him all about how much you love Daddy's cock and tell him exactly how you want it to ruin you, with plenty of kisses from base to tip, and make sure to lick up that stream of precum 🤤 Twirl your tongue all around his tip and lick him against the roof of your mouth as you take more. Once he touches the back of your throat, though, you better be willing to keep him there and take him further. If you keep pulling back too many times, he'll just impatiently fuck your face with a hard grip in your hair keeping you still.

Things are also going to get pretty kinky and wild. As much as he likes to see you undressing him, he loves to see you tied up and at his mercy just as much! It's also the best punishment (funishment?) for any backtalk and sass. He'll let you know what that mouth is good for if you don't want to play nice 😌

Spills a lot of cum, and he'll be watching to make sure you don't waste it. If he can't cum inside you, then at least eat it! Lick it from his abs and clean his cock; he likes to keep your mouth open with a grip on your cheeks and watch his cum drip in your mouth or pool on your tongue. And you better swallow it all. If any gets on your face, you'll be oh-so-affectionately called a messy slut while he swipes it into your mouth, but you can earn a good girl if you readily accept it and suck his thumb 😉

You can be included in on the fun, too! He likes to have you on the bed, on your back, and head at the edge of the bed... He'll be throat fucking you and playing with your clit or your tits. Or both, usually. And there might be a time or two when those suits of armor come in handy after a few modifications... so now you're getting a rough pounding and trying to suck Tony's dick (or he just takes over for you ). Also vibrators, and not just for you! Hold one just beneath the underside of his head while you suck and lick his slit and his balls 🥵 He'll probably need to be lying down for this one and not be in a Dom mood because you can edge him and keep him going for ages

He has his own house now, thank god. Not just because he can be loud, but let's be honest, you two are fucking on every counter and corner you can find! You might be under one of those tables in the lab, or between his legs at the couch; he might have a hand planted on the kitchen counter and keeping you pinned against the wooden cabinets below. Well, his office isn't necessarily the most private, but you can bet you'll be hiding under that desk and helping him out a different way when he's busy at work 😏

Giving. As much as he loves getting head, he's in love with giving love to your pussy, he can't keep his hands (or his mouth) off of you. Eats you out like it's the last thing he'll do and you're the last thing he'll taste, and licks through your folds and entrance like he's feral, yet that tongue stays tantalizingly featherlight on your clit when he's not massaging it between his teeth. And he'll make sure to leave your oversensitive skin burning from the scratch of his beard 🥴 He also just loves to push your limits, and loves that he can keep you going even if he can't

You'll probably start off at the edge of the bed, with him on his knees, but the more you cum and the longer he goes, you won't be able to hold yourself up for very long. Throw your legs over his shoulders and tighten them around his head- if you don't, he will. He wants to be buried in your pussy, and if you're pushing at him in overstimulation and gripping his hair, he just tightens his hold on you and cozies into you even more. Whimper his name and he'll ask, "what is it, baby," as if you aren't trembling and soaked. He'll soothe you with a few kisses to your swollen clit and a nip to your thigh before going back in, slower this time. Honestly, it's probably not often he adds in a finger or two, but you can cum just fine without them! It'll mostly be when he's in the mood to make you squirt multiple times and comment on the big mess you made

He will absolutely tie you up and torture you for hours. He'll start off real slow, and ease off when your close before going in fast and hard... only to slow down again when he has you on the edge again. It's a good punishment and a good reward, but once you start begging he can't help but give in with an apologetic kiss to your thigh, followed by the best orgasm of your life

He doesn't mind cleaning you up after 😉 Even with his cum still dripping out of you, he's licking up all of your cum and his (if he isn't too busy stuffing it back inside 🥴 He might get too into it, though, and have you cumming again, and then he's hard again... and the delicious cycle continues

He loves to wake you up like this too. Sometimes you're just too cute and vulnerable cuddled up to him, and he just has to let you know... and he probably has a not-so-little problem that needs taken care of and he needs you up and ready now!

You could be at a party, or making a smoothie in the kitchen, but if you're looking a little too good he has to have a quick taste. At home, he's pushing you against the wall or cabinets or bending you over the counter, and on his knees within seconds. It's tougher when you're out, not only because he has to find a bathroom or empty room, but it's going to be hard to stay quiet! He also might have once or twice eaten you out underwater while you were sitting on the pool's submerged stairs 🥵 He just can't stay off of you!

#tony stark #tony stark smut #tony stark x reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark one shot #tony stark drabble #tony stark headcanon #tony stark fic #tony stark fanfiction #iron man #iron man smut #iron man x reader #iron man imagine #iron man drabble #iron man fanfiction #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel headcanons

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slamminslamminmcgill · 11 months

Note

Man you had me reading through all those prompts, Jimmy with “did I stutter, do as your told” makes my brain go WILD trust I will be back suggesting some more 🥴

-🦇

HEHEHEHEHE >:33

ik you said jimmy but im goin saul bc it suits him more mwah

Another day at the office of Saul Goodman and Associates. Honestly, “and Associates” was generous. Even though you were just a paralegal, it seemed like you were the only one around here who did any actual work. You were looking over documents for a case, while Saul kicked back and relaxed at his desk. He must have gotten bored, because out of nowhere he blurted out.

“I want a blowjob.”

You rolled your eyes. Sure, you two had fooled around in his office on multiple occasions, but you weren’t indulging him this time. There was too much going on today, and he was distracting you. You didn’t look up from the file. “You know this client’s gonna be here in 10 minutes, right?”

Without missing a beat, he rebutted “So you better get me off in 9.”

You dropped the paper on your lap, and rolled your head in his direction to give him an incredulous look. “Are you serious?”

“Did I stutter?” Saul sat upright in his chair and scooted back, making room for you under the desk. “You’re on the clock. You work for me. Now get over here, get on your knees, and do as you’re told.”

You groaned, slapped the case file on the coffee table, and stood up. Part of you thought about dragging this out and leaving him blue-balled when the client came in, but you knew his game. He’d either make the client wait, or he’d keep you under the desk during the appointment. He’d get what he wanted. You trudged over to him and crawled under his desk, glaring up at him as you undid his belt.

“That’s my boy.” Saul beamed and ruffled your hair while you pulled his cock out, “And would it kill ya to smile every once in a while?”

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devilish-mirage · 2 years

Text

Him & I

Yandere/Dark!Jake Lockley x Fem!Feral!Reader

Warnings; Jake Lockley, guns, act of violence, blood, murders, a bit of smut in the middle of this, toxic relationship, we ride and we die together type of beat, very much obsessed with one another, dark romance with papi Jake, insanity (?)

Summary; In the end, the things that mattered was just you and him.

Word count; 1,9k

A/n: This is a part 2 of Heaven but it can be read on it's own.

@friendlyneighbourhood-parker Thank you, bebé for translating the spanish sentences <333

Also look at this pic and tell me you don't see Jake 🥴🥴🥴

Masterlist

Cross my heart, hope to die. To my lover, I'd never lie

The first kill was not easy.

No matter how many times you've seen him do it, doing it yourself just doesn't have the same effect as watching it happened.

"Esa es mi buena niña," (That's my good girl) you heard him whispered beside you, hugging your body close by the waist as he kissed the side of your neck tenderly, an act that was completely contrary from what you just did.

You let the gun go, your hands were trembling as you looked at the corpse in front of you.

"He's bad, he tried to hurt me, he tried to hurt Jake." you kept repeating those words inside your head, trying to convince yourself that your way of thinking is not wrong.

Because Jake thinks so, doesn't it meant that you automatically have to had the same mindset as him? Jake knows better after all.

He said "be true, " I swear I'll try. In the end, it's him and I

"Congratulations on your first kill, cariño." (darling) you tried to focus and held back the tears from spilling out, your eyes is glued to the still warm lifeless corpse in front of you.

Jake frowned, he let you go and walked towards the corpse, towering over it as he flipped the body with his feet, lazily looking at his face and bend down, checking his pulse.

He didn't even realized that someone was behind him with tears on their eyes as they screamed nonsense that he didn't even bother to hear.

He's out his head, I'm out my mind. We got that love, the crazy kind

He didn't have time to react as the person aim their gun at him, he panicked and tried to summoned his suit before you shot the person straight into the middle of their forehead, leaving a bullet hole there.

Wouldn't see the point of living on if one of us died

He looked at the corpse as it fell before snapping his head towards you, smiling widely when you're already staring at him.

Your eyes were red and the tears was long gone, the only remaining of it was your wet cheeks.

I am his, and he is mine. In the end, it's him and I

You fell to your knees and he catched you before you hit the ground, breathing heavily as you gripped his jacket tight until your knuckles were turning white.

"I got you, mi cielo." (my heaven) he whispered in your ears and place a kiss on your forehead.

YSL dress under when she takes the mink off

"How do I look, Jake?" he lowly whistled at the sight of you, circling your body with his fingers on his chin. "Preciosa, lo más hermoso que he vist." (Gorgeous, the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.)

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, he took your hand and kissed the back of it while staring deep into your eyes.

"But you do know," he pulled you closer by the waist, softly trailed his fingertips on your skin, slowly moving to your nape where you tied the strings that held the dress together and pulled it, letting the dress dropped down to your ankles.

Silk on her body, pull it down and watch it slip off

"I prefer you with nothing on, mi amor." (my love) you closed your eyes as he kissed your neck, softly kneading your waist when you let out a soft moan.

"Tómame, papi" (Take me, Papi) he hummed in content and picked you up, you hugged his waist with your legs as he gripped your ass cheeks tight and brought to your shared bathroom.

Crazy, but I love her, I could never run from her

With your ass high up in the air and face smushed against the white sheets, he slammed his hips hard, making you arched your back more. He gripped your hair, pushing your head deeper to the white sheets.

"You like that, cariño?" (darling) You screamed as he gripped your hair harder and spanking your ass till it turned red.

Both of your bodies were covered with sweats and deep purple bruises, a few bitemarks adorned your skin while deep claw marks were on Jake's back.

Hit it, no rubber never would let no one touch her

He grunted as he felt your insides squeezed him again. "Mine."

His eyes were focused on where you're both connected and he slapped your ass again, harder this time as he spilled his load inside you. You managed to nod at him, screaming the words that he loved to hear. "Yours!" you choked on your own sobs as you cum.

Such pretty noises, only for him.

Swear we drive each other, mad, she be so stubborn

Jake tiptoed his way inside your shared apartment, biting his lips as he heard the door creaked when he closed it.

"Why do you always come home late?"

He cursed under his breath, smiling nervously at your direction.

"You're awake, mi cielo." (my heaven)

You glared at him hard in response.

"Explain yourself."

But, what the fuck is love with no pain, no suffer

"It was nothing, I didn't do anything out there, just taking a walk."

You bitterly laughed at him, folding both of your arms in front of chest.

"Yeah right, how stupid do you think I am?"

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, "I don't think you're-" you cut him off, looking straight into his chocolate colored pupils.

"Are you cheating on me?"

Intense, this shit, it gets dense

He can't believe you just said that, he looked at you like you just told him the most unfunny joke ever.

"I would never-"

"Then why the fuck are you always gone in the middle of the night, Lockley?!" you screamed at him, tears threatening to fall from those beautiful eyes of yours.

He shook his head with a sarcastic smile on his face. How could you think like that? Jake only has you on his mind for years and now that he have you, he would not let you go even if it meant that he had to take extreme measures- and now you're suspecting him of cheating? You didn't know how much you meant to him and that's unbelievable.

You tightened your fist together, taking his silence with negativity, you didn't even think when you threw the nearest item in your reach towards him.

She knows when I'm out of it like she could just sense

"Fucking answer me!"

He looked at you and to the lamp that you just threw at him with disbelief. He almost laughed at your attempt to scare him, you sure have guts. You didn't knew how much worse the things he went through.

Ever go down or get caught, or they identify

His face softened when he saw your gorgeous eyes were tainted with tears, you still look so pretty like this but he would have to eventually tell you. Everybody knows that you're his other half of soul, he would never ever let you go even if he had to tell you everything, it was unbelievable that the Jake Lockley found someone who worth more than his duty as Khonshu's fist of vengeance.

He even mold you to perfectly take and accept everything from him. So, why not tell you now?

He slowly walked towards you and cupped both of your cheeks, gently wiping the tears from your face and kissed the underside of your eyes with such sincerity that he had never shown another living being except for you.

"Alright, I'll tell you, ven conmigo. Mi amor." (come with me, my love).

My bitch was the most solid, nothing to solidify

You stared at him in silence for a few seconds, trying to wrapped your head around this situation before you finally asked him, "you're moon knight?" he shook his head, unmasking his mask and grinned at you.

"Even better, Shadow Knight."

You furrowed your eyebrows, "are you his sidekick?" he laughed out loud, shaking his head as he strode towards you, his eyes showed that glint of madness that you've grown accustomed to between his gorgeous chocolate colored pupils.

"I'm the wicked side of Moon Knight."

She would never cheat, you'd never see her with a different guy

Ever tell you different, then it's a lie

"I don't-" you were cut off when you were suddenly picked up by your boyfriend and placed on his shoulders. He jumped high and you screamed, gripping his cape as if your life depends on it, which is true in this case.

He let you down and smirked at you, "I'll give you the first seat of the Shadow Knight in action." he kissed your cheek winking before using his mask and jumped down.

Jake grinned widely behind his mask. He's enjoying this, beating and teaching these bad guys a lesson and now with you watching, it just fuels him on even further.

See, that's my down bitch, see that's my soldier

She keeps that thang-thang if anyone goes there

Maybe if he payed more attention he'd notice that there's someone aiming a gun at his direction, you cursed and quickly ran down the set of stairs that leads down and swiftly picked the gun up, shooting the person on his chest.

Calm and collected, she keeps her composure

He unmasked his face to grinned at you for a moment before he used them again in which you rolled your eyes in respond.

He ran towards you and threw his daggers to the man behind you. You lean your back to his and you felt the side of your lips tugged into a smirk as you shoot another.

And she gon' ride for me until this thing over

"You're pretty good at this, cariño." (darling)

"Thanks, I learned from the best," you twirled the gun between your fingers and reload them. "Fuck, I'm out."

Fuck the world, we just gon' keep getting rich, you know?

He gripped your waist and shield you from the bullets, handing you another loaded gun that he picked up earlier.

"Go get them, mi cielo."

Cross my heart, hope to die. To my lover, I'd never lie. He said "be true, " I swear I'll try. In the end, it's him and I

You heard the police siren coming closer when you shoot the last guy, you panicked and looked at him. Gripping his arm as you tried to find a safe route to get away.

He's out his head, I'm out my mind. We got that love; the crazy kind

He smirked, holding your arm before kissing you, you stand there in shocked before kissing him back with the same passion.

It was lustful and full of passion, the kind of kiss that would steal your breath away the longer you're in it. But you don't mind it, not in the slightest.

If it's him, you'd gladly surrender yourself to him, anything for him.

He looked down at you with a smirk, "I'm not Aladdin nor do I have a magical carpet but I can show you a whole new world."

You laughed giddily when he picked you up bridal style and jump from roof to roof.

You don't think that this kind of love is bad anymore, in fact you wouldn't want it any other way than this.

I am his, and he is mine

In the end, it's him and I

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whitesuitdarkiplier · 2 years

Note

I have a concept! Bimbofication with Darkiplier (he/him reader) I just wanna be a slut for Dark while he drains all higher thought from my head & uses me for his pleasure 🥴😩

YES. This one is a little long, but I just couldn’t help myself. Things get very spicy. I hope you enjoy! 🖤

You hadn’t meant to be distracted or distant, life just kinda got in the way. With so much going on and so much you had to do, things just got away from you. Things like your visits with Dark. And truthfully, it escaped your notice.

But it sure as hell didn’t escape his.

He appeared so suddenly it had made you jump. But even after the initial shock wore off, it was clear that something was wrong. Waves of powerful anger rolled off of him, cyan and scarlet glitches multiplying as you were drawn into the void until all that was left was the two of you. As you stared at him, fear beginning to raise the hairs on the back of your neck, every glorious aspect of him came into focus. As if something was tempting your mind away from rationality and towards him, towards the darkness.

“Did you miss me, darling?” His deep voice glided over the words, but there was an edge to his tone. “I missed you very much.”

You knew you had fucked up. You wanted to back away but found you were frozen in place. You watched helplessly as he slowly stalked towards you.

“It’s been such a long time…” he said with a glint in his eyes. When he stood before you, his gaze making you feel so small, he traced one finger along your jawline. “And I must raise the question—why, pet, have you not kept your end of our bargain?”

You trembled as he touched you, unable to voice either an objection or defense. He gently grasps your chin so that you kept your eyes on his.

“Perhaps you’ve become far too comfortable in this life I’ve given you. You seem to have forgotten the terms of our deal. It’s such a simple condition.”

He leaned in. His breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, his lips barely grazing your skin. “You are mine,” he growled. “Every facet of your soul, every inch of your body…” you felt his grin. “And every thought in your head is mine.”

He placed his hand on your neck, his thumb pressing the point where your throat and jaw meet. It’s possessive. And it makes you sigh despite yourself.

“So many thoughts in that head of yours.”

He turned his head slightly, kissing your cheek with a low hum. “Crowding every inch of your mind until it all becomes too much.”

For a brief moment, you jolted from his spell and tried to apologize. “Dark, I’m—“

He hushed you, moving his hand at your throat around the back of your head. His fingers slid through your hair. A moan escaped your lips and you knew there was no use.

“You don’t need those useless little thoughts distracting you, darling.” He placed a kiss on your jaw. “So sweet and simple. You only have room for one, don’t you?”

Slowly, you felt your control slipping. Every thought began to disintegrate and float away, leaving you an empty vessel. Euphoria dulled your senses. You giggled, not knowing why. Not caring why. You only had room for one thought. Him. All of him. You wanted him to consume you, to own you, to use you. Desire gripped you so hard and fast you shook with the intensity. Your knees buckled, your breath caught in your throat, nothing mattered but him.

“Much better,” he purred. His presence drove you insane. Your hands slid down his chest, lustfully moaning and wishing for his suit to be gone so you could feel the skin beneath. God, you wanted to touch him, to be touched, to be a toy for his pleasure.

“What are you thinking, pet?” He asked with a sardonic tone. “Hm? Something on your mind?”

“You,” you groaned, clinging to him, “Only you.”

He chuckled, low and seductive. “Good boy.”

Dark glitched away from you suddenly, a foot or two away. You whined and moved toward him, but he stopped you with a single phrase.

“On your knees,” he commanded, loosening his tie. “And crawl.”

Rebellion stirred in your mind. You wanted to be defiant, to refuse…but his voice compelled you, sliding over you and tempting you closer. You drop to your hands and knees, groveling and panting as you shakily crawled to him. Dark conjured a black leather chair, a throne for him to sit as you worship him. He settled back and watched you with amusement, glitching farther and farther away just to enjoy how pretty and pathetic you looked. Once you were in front of him, you laid your head on his thigh and whined like a needy pet. You reached for his belt—

“No,” he said, and the force of the word made you stop and look up at him. He folded his hands in his lap. “You haven’t earned it yet.”

He crossed one leg over the other, the tip of his polished white shoe in front of your face. You stare, confused.

“Lick it,” he demands.

You take in a sharp breath, Aroused by the mere thought of such humiliation in service to him. You open your mouth, dragging your tongue over the leather with a soft moan. Dark stared into your eyes, raising an eyebrow and smirking at your enthusiasm.

“Now,” he said, “straddle my foot like the desperate bitch in heat you are and grind against it.”

You didn’t hesitate, every ounce of resistance and intelligent thought swept away, and began grinding against his leg in the hopes that you could gain some relief. Dark tilted your head up, grasping your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“What an obedient pet. No thoughts except to please your master.”

You whined, unable to say anything except. “Please, please…”

He cooed mockingly, “It’s so frustrating, isn’t it? Not getting what you want. I could let you writhe in this agony, leave you wanting and begging for me as you should have been all along.”

You couldn’t focus on his words, your need drowning out everything but your desperate attempt to get yourself off.

“Pay attention, darling. I know it’s hard with that empty head of yours.”

You groaned, clawing at his leg.

“Use your words, pet.”

“Please,” you gasped, “please I need it.”

“Mmm, need what? You have to be specific, darling.”

“Your cock,” You whimper, “Please, let me have it.”

He didn’t respond for a long while, leaning back and making you wait for his answer. You thought you might explode.

His fingers slowly unbuckled his belt, easing his pants and underwear below his hips. His cock bounced free, hard and leaking precum. You moaned at the sight, needing him any way possible.

“Sit up straight,” he said, his veined hand wrapped around the base, stroking slowly. You pull yourself up, your mouth so tantalizingly close. You were trembling, eyes staring, pleading. He groaned at the sight of you between his legs, so eager to take his cock. Finally, he gave a single command.

“Suck.”

You wrapped your lips around his cockhead, sucking and licking up the precum, whimpering at the taste. Dark lays his head back, sighing through gritted teeth as he grabs your hair and impatiently forces himself into your throat. The sheer force choked you, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He fucked your throat mercilessly, slamming your head up and down like you were no more than a toy for his pleasure.

“That’s all you needed,” he growled, “simple instructions.”

You couldn’t breathe, but goddamn you didn’t care. Even the thought of you passing out and still having your throat fucked by him almost made you cum. That’s all you wanted. To be used. Everything inside you screamed and begged, use me, use me!

“This is how it should be,” he said, his voice husky and lustful, “No thoughts in your head besides being my willing little slut.”

He pulled your head back, his cock sliding from your mouth. You took the first breaths you’d had in a while. Dark tugged your hair, forcing you to look up at him. “Who are you, darling?” He said in a deceptively sweet tone.

Your voice was shaky as you answered, “I’m yours.”

“Mmm, and what are you good for?”

The words were not your own, as if he was guiding you to the correct answers.

“Pleasing you.”

He grinned, “And what should be your only thought?”

Now the words flowed out of you desperately. “Your cock. Fuck I need your cock. Please, please, please—“

He forced his cock in your throat again, fucking even harder. He pulsed inside your mouth. You’d never wanted anything as badly as you wanted his cum. More than breath, more than your dignity, more than anything you wanted him to cum down your throat. He pumped himself inside you one last time before he gave a loud growl. He filled your mouth, hot and sticky. You moaned gratefully, savoring every second you swallowed. He pulled out, leaving you a panting, shaking mess.

“Are you satisfied, darling?” He asked, “Have you learned your lesson?”

As tired as you were, the need had not been satiated. It burned through you. Your eyes were wide, feral.

“No, I need more. I want you. I only want you. You’re all I need. Fuck me, fuck me, Dark I can’t fucking take it.”

Dark smirked, settling back further in the chair.

“Good boy, he’s finally learning.” He beckoned you closer. “Get in my lap.”

You climbed into his lap, his still hard cock pressing against you. He put his hands on your hips, holding them tight. Reality bent for the slightest of seconds, and when it snapped back you were naked. Dark admired you, licking his lips.

“Ride me.”

You rocked your hips back and forth, sighing. You took his cock and positioned it at your entrance, slowly sitting down on it. You both moaned. His length stretched you open, the feeling giving you the filthiest pleasure you’ve ever experienced. You rode him eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning into him. His voice was in your ear again.

“Oh, look at you. Stuffed full with my cock. Your pretty head empty.”

He slapped your ass hard, the sting making you cry out. He did it again and again and again.

“Say my fucking name,” he snarled, “Scream it so you never forget again who you belong to.”

His name poured from your mouth like a prayer, every movement more thrilling than the last. He spanked you again until his handprint marked you. He began thrusting up, growing more aggressive. His nails dug into your skin, he bit your neck hard enough to bruise. Suddenly, he pushed you off onto your back, grabbing your ankles and holding your legs as far above as he could. He thrust his cock into you again, his gaze wild with hunger and power.

“I’m going to fuck you properly until my cum is dripping down your thighs. And maybe if you scream loud enough,” he chuckled, “I’ll let you cum. Does your empty little brain understand?”

You nodded as he pounded you hard and fast. You were helpless, letting him have his way with you, being used for his pleasure. Already, you felt your orgasm building, rising to its zenith. You arched your back, calling his name.

“Scream my name when you cum,” he demanded, “Tell the whole fucking world that you’re mine and mine alone.”

With only a few more thrusts, you plummeted over the edge, pleasure coursing through you like you’ve never known, wild and intense. You obeyed his command and moaned his name as he came inside you, fucking you through your orgasm.

When you finally collapsed, exhausted and satisfied, Dark leaned down, whispering into your ear a low warning, “If you ever ignore me again, our next encounter will not be so pleasant,” he growled, making you shudder, “I have so many ways of punishing you, darling.”

In a moment, he was standing before you, suit and hair as neat as it was before. You sat up as best you could, looking at him.

“Saturday. 7 pm.,” he said matter-of-factly, “We’re going to have a good date, you and I. One where we can really get to know each other.”

He turned and said one final thing before vanishing.

“Sleep well, darling.”

#darkiplier #darkiplier x reader #darkiplier fanfiction #darkiplier smut #wkm darkiplier #adwm darkiplier #iswm darkiplier

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acapelladitty · 1 year

Text

A rather nasty Scriddler drabble below the cut 🥴😈 tw for dubcon & somnophilia!

Unconscious as he were, the loose quality of Edward's body gave his limbs all the control of a marionette with its strings cut. Having collapsed hard, the gash on his arm, barely visible through the slashed emerald suit, continued to drip a steady rhythm of beading blood to the floor.

Knees splayed tightly on either side of his shoulders, Jonathan's grip of Edward's slick, blood-matted hair was harsh enough that he was surprised that none of the strands were coming loose between his clawed fingers.

His own shoulder ached like a bitch and a relentless sting needled across his jaw, the flesh there angry and torn by Edward's sharp teeth, and his lips pulled back into a feral snarl; the small movement causing the tear in his upper lip to open once again as a fresh wave of discomfort washed over him.

Animalistic grunts spilled free of his mouth as his hand moved frantically across his length, every stoke bringing him rapidly closer to the edge as a rage-tinged arousal surged through his groin.

His cock, hot and heavy in his palm, showcased no shame at the quick finish as his release arced messily across Edward's slack face; ropes cascading across his gripped hair and features; one droplet falling prettily against his thick lashes.

Jonathan growled out his erratic orgasm, hips bucking involuntarily against the warm chest below his clothed ass. Dropping his cock from its frantic grip, his pre-cum stained fingers pressed against Edward's busted lips, forcing them open before scooping up a pearled score of his cum and dragging it across Edward's tongue.

"When you wake up," he hissed at the prone figure as satisfaction curled around the vicious words, "I want to make sure that you know exactly what's happened here. An eye for an eye, Edward."

#blaming discord for this 🤣 im weak to the requests of others #scriddler #riddler #scarecrow #Jonathan crane #Edward nygma #edward nigma

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haysprite · 1 year

Note

can we see more of your legion headcanons :0

Ooooh of course! I'm so glad you asked, cause boy do I have a ton of em! How about some Prom Night headcanons :D

Frank- •Immediately says yes to Julie and gets a lil smug about her asking him, he just teases her since usually the guy is supposed to ask while she just rolls her eyes •Doesn't bother with anything too fancy, he just finds the most basic shit to wear plus his stupid dirty shoes •Makes sure they get away with a dine and dash at one of Ormond's nicest restaurants (which is like, probably a Chilli's or whatever the fuck they have in Canada idfk) •Has to be snuck into the dance since he doesn't go to the school (barely manages to not get caught) •Totally smuggles in some illegal shit to the dance, spikes the punch n everything •Tries to make a lot of song requests, gets denied each time since they're all stupid annoying heavy metal songs •Can't dance for SHIT, low-key embarrassed by this lmfao, Julie is laughing at him the whole time about this •Ends up stealing the Prom Queen and King's crowns for him and Julie <3 •Sneaks over to Julie's house after Joey drops them off to spend some more time with her, but realizes she's asleep so he leaves her a corny note and lays it next to the crown

Julie- •Asked out Frank with a stupid card and his favorite candy (she was gonna do something more, but remembered it was Frank, take that however you will) •Took Susie dress shopp(lift)ing, wanted to make sure they looked their best (she's got a great sense of style and loves shopping with her) •Wears a knee-length red dress with her hair curled and down and a beautiful silver necklace she stole from her mom •She spends all day getting ready, then helps Susie out as well (hair, nails, makeup, everything!) •Has a whole (lose) schedule for the night so that they can make the most of it •Ends up stealing Joey for a dance at some point cause she at least wants ONE good dance •Practically spying on Joey and Susie the whole night while Frank wonders what the fuck she's doing •She made bets with Joey over whether or not Frank would get caught, she won $20 that night •Puts the crown on her bedside table and stares at it lovingly before falling asleep

Joey- •Asked out Susie with a bouquet of stolen flowers •Gets himself a nice suit, mans has to be extra and look his best ✨ •He's everyone's ride to the school, mister personal chauffeur •He and Susie tear it UP on the dance floor, bro! They absolutely knock everyone else outta the park with their moves •Finally decides to make a move on Susie during the last dance, this leads to their first kiss <3 •They literally don't leave each other's sides for the rest of the night •After dropping everyone else off, he takes Susie to go stargazing for a little bit, then takes her home after she falls asleep on his shoulder

Susie- •Got super duper giddy when Joey asked her out, she's always wanted to go to a dance with someone! •A bit panicky about what to wear n shit, but Julies got her back and helps her out •Wears a long blue-green dress with a black choker and flats, a matching flower in her hair, which is curled in a half-up style •She's so excited on the way to the school, she's bubbling with excitement to spend the night with her friends •While Joey and Julie have a dance, Susie decides to have Frank help her with some shitty pranks on the other students, they have a lot of fun with this (she didn't wanna risk getting her feet stepped on lmao) •Doesn't realize that the punch is spiked and gets a bit tipsy 🥴 This results in some funny lil moments •When she wakes up in the morning, she immediately calls Joey to apologize for falling asleep on him, but he just laughs and says it was no biggie

Even though Ormond doesn't always have super exciting shit going on, they make the best out of it! And of course, its not a night with the Legion without a bit of chaos caused here and there.

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bluehwale · 1 year

Note

SO I was like travelling in bus for my.classes nd im usually a person in public transport who is like quiet minds my own business nd doesnt talk to anyone cuz maybe either om too sleepy or using my phone nd yesterday in saw this guy on my bus he was wearing all black suit nd he had his ear pierced (cuz men over here dont like to pierce their ears cuz its feminine 💀) nd that guy was standing in front of me I was like observing him like I liked men black tuxedo okay cuz they look so good 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵😮‍💨😮‍💨nd I was thinking of completing his outfit nd I was like contemplating whether should I or should I not nd I was get so FUCKING anxious 😭😭 like me who has never complimented a stranger (not even a women is going nd complimenting a MAN ITS A BIG THNG ND IM LITERWLLY MY MIMD EAS SO BUSY DESPITE RUNNING ON 4HRS OF SLEEP) nd ykw im the end I ended up complimenting him nd before my stop I said ur outfit looks really good nd I like ur bag too nd he was literally smiling ear to ear so cite nd before he could say smth my stop came I was literally SCREAMING THE WHOLE WAY UNTIL I FOUND MY SENIOR 😭i jad to pull my my shit together nd talk to him ndi after I finished talking to him I was literally screaming nd sending voice notes to my frnd (hey sending voice notes r a BIG THING nd I never send voice texts unless I cant type.out my thoughts nd to arrange them properly im a text message nd I couldn't call the fuck.down I LEGIT WENT TO RESTROOM ND SCREAMEDDDDDD WELLL im becoming more loose like ND WJEM I COMPLIMENT ITS LIKE I DESCRIBE EVERY ASPECT OF IT ND TELL IT TO PPL ND IT ENDS UP WITH THEM BLUSHING ND I WAS Literally TRYIJG MY BEST NOT TO STUTTER 🥴🥴ND I ENDED UP GWTTING SHT AFTER GIVING THE COMPLIMENT 😭😭😭💀💀LIZ IT WAAS LIKE A ROLLER COASTER ND I TOLD ANT THIS TO 3 OTHER FRNDS ND THEY ALL HAD fucking diverse opinions like 😞😞😞imma cotinue it in the next ask 🥴🥴

olay so I told abt my adventure to 3other frnds one of then whom I told first thought I jad a crush on the gut like a fleeting crush who im never gonna see again (sue was genuinely.confused olay so o said I just liked how he dressed up nd yes black tum 💀🥴🥴im on my knees okay )

another frnd I told (she is the most logical one) she said guys get less compliments than girls nd u just made his day nd said when u get dressed up nd someone acknowledges it u are jiet over the moon nd she was also proud of me for implementing a stranger cuz it takes alot of courage

thw last.frnd I told she said u go on doing this nd make.every guy fall for.u 😭 im like im an over exaggerator who compliments in a very descriptive way nd I cant change it cuz it what it is nd imo descriptive compliments >>>>one line compliments (idk why I prefer it )

anw liz have a good day taake care of urself.ilyyy (2/2)

MISS DIORWOO!!!! IM ALWAYS THE HAPPIEST GIRL WHENEVER I HEAR FROM U <33 (my response is under the cut, u better bUCKLE UP !!)

HI HELLO SORRY IM??? ON THE FLOOR??? ALL BLACK SUIT WITH HIS EARS PIERCED???? PHEW 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 U BETTER SIGN ME UP BCS I ALSO LIKE MEN IN BLACK TUXEDOS rawr (also i’d probably simp for u if i ever see u in a bus BCS U GIVE OFF THE MYSTERIOUS QUIET VIBES😵‍💫sorry oops off topic!! ANYWAYS) SMNDNDNDNS RUNNING ON 4 HOURS OF SLEEP BUT U STILL HAVE UR PRIORITIES STRAIGHT MHM I KNOW THATS RIGHT !!!!

ANNDNDB. FBDBDBSBSJJSJSS KYAAAAAAAAWQAAASSS WHEN U COMPLIMENTRD HIM OMGG FNDNDHDJ 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 HIM SMILING EAR TO EAR !!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 HELLO THIS IS LIKE THE START OF A ROMANCE MOVIE ?????? A SCENE OF THIS (ghibli style) IS LITERALLY PLAYING IN MY HEAD RN I CAN SEE THE VISION OMG AND 😭😭😭 STOPPPPP HE DIDNT GET TO SAY ANTUTHING BEFORE U GOT OFF UR STOP OMGMDNDHDHD IM SO UGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH THIS WOULD BE A HOLLYWOOD HIT ISTG 😭😭 also

u: *internally screaming and dy1ng* 🧍‍♀️

ur senior: 😃👋 (HE WILL NEVER UNDERSTAND WHAT U JUST WENT THRU!!!!!)

ALSO URE RIGHT VOICE NOTES ARE A BIG THING!!! JSNSJSJJSHS I WOULD ALSO DO THAT IF I WERE U BCS MY HANDS WOULD BE SHAKING AND I WOULDNT BE ABLE TO TYPE 😭😭😭 (im hoping no janitors were traumatized in that toilet </3) ALSO YEAH UR COMPLIMENTS ARE SERIOUSLY THE BEST ITS PEAK BCS I BLUSH BEHIND MY SCREEN ALL THE DAMN TIME !!! JWBDJSJSJ

A FLEETING CRUSH WHO U WILL NEVER SEE AGAIN???? PLS DONT BREAK MY HEART NOOOO 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔😞😞😞😞😞 (im gonna manifest that u’ll meet him again soon I HAVE MY PRAYER CIRCLE READY !!!!! 🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️) honestly,,,,, so relatable i too would get on my knees for any man who dresses well and esp in black (the bar is so low its IN HELL)

NAH BCS IM GONNA GO WITH UR LAST FRIEND BCS IM PRETTY SURE HE FELL IN LOVE WITH U !!!!!! WHEN U COMPLIMENTRD HIM AND UR GAZE MET HIS, THATS WHEN HE KNOWS !!! ITS U !!!! U’RE THE ONE HES BEEN LOOKING FOR (sorry im obv over the mOON THIS IS TOO CUTE) but yeah im also so 🥺🥺proud🥺🥺 of u for complimenting a stranger bcs that takes balls that i dont hv I MEAN IVE NEVER ATTEMPTED TO DO IT BUT IK I WOULD GET 😨😨😨 *sweats* 😨😨😨 AND “hi i just wanna say that i rlly like ur outfi- well would u looK at that cat over there!! aHaHahah” WOULD PROBABLY COME OUT OF MY MOUTH INSTEAD SNBDDNNSNS (i hv 0 rizz) but anyWAYS IT PROBABLY MADE HIS WHOLE DAY AND I KNOW FOR A FACT THAT YOU’VE BECOME “THE GIRL IN THE BUS” TO ALL HIS FRIENDS BCS HE WOULD FOR SURE TELL EVERYONE THAT HE GOT A COMPLIMENT FROM U </333333 (im suffering thats so cute) U’RE IMMORTALIZED IN HIS HEAD AND IN HIS STORIES !!!!!

i loVE the way u give compliments u’re literally the sweetest and i know hE thinks that too </3 im hoping for another adventure of u meeting that guy OR ANYONE ELSE IN PARTICULAR REALLY BCS EEEEEK THIS MADE MY WHOLE DAY I LOVED THIS SM SNSBDBDNSBNSS 😭😭😭😭

thanku sm for sharing this adventure of urs !!! 🥺🥺🥺 i missed u and i love u and i hope u have a great day as well !!! take care always <333

p.s. I NEED UPDATES IF U EVER SOMEHOW MEET THIS GUY AGAIN👹👹👹👹 UNIVERSE !!!! DO UR THING !!! 👹👹👹👹

hashtag my current mood:

#answered #THIS IS LITERALLY THE CUTEST THING EVERTFFFRRRR OMFGGG #THIS IS EVEN SWEETER THAN THE GELATO THAT I HAD TODAY IM PROBABBLY GONNA GET DIABETES NOW #ILY MISS DIORWOO THANKU FOR SHARING THIS!!!!!#anyw that was a long one 😮‍💨 TY FOR LISTENING TO MY TED TALK #<3 #diorwoo

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fandomfluffandfuck · 10 months

Note

Just another late night tho(ugh)ts about my boys (a lot of subby sugar baby ish Steve coming your way)

Imagine naked Steve with a fully dressed Bucky....a really mean fully dressed Bucky

Imagine Steve on the edge of their shared bed, face down ass up with his hands held behind his back while his sir stands behind him (in a suit 👀) , toying with his already abused hole.

His sir has been fingering him for a while, stretching his sweet obediant baby open with two fingers, purposely missing his prostate despite his baby's silent sobs.

Steve is physically trembling, it's almost humiliating.

Steve can't grind back, he couldn't, he wants to be still, he wants to take whatever his sir gives him even if it's torturous. However, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't desperate for Bucky to at least touch his prostate just a little bit, knowing for a fact Bucky could find his prostate with his eyes closed.

"S- Sir" Steve gasps out "Please hngh! i need- i need more"

"You need more, honey?" Bucky asks almost in a sarcastic tone, sending shivers down Steve's spine as he hears the sweet nickname somehow turning harsh as soon as Bucky says it out loud. But oh-

Oh God, Sir's finger's right there- right above his prostate, not even an inch away from pressing on it.

"mhhn- haA-" Steve let out a noise that he didn't even know he could make, wordlessly begging for his sir to push just a little bit deeper into him while tugging on his restraints (ropes or cuffs? Hmm) that held his hand still behind his back as he tries his best to hold back from grinding back on sir's long thick fingers.

"Words, sweetheart" Bucky said sternly, humming slightly at the way his baby was melting under him just because he shifted his fingers to another angle.

"Puh- please! Please! i want- i wan' sir deeper in me, i wan' it please!" Steve sobbed into the sheets that he bunched his face into, clenching around his sir's fingers, trying to restrain himself from trying to suck Bucky's fingers deeper in him and trying to- Oh-

"Oh-! oH god! Thank you thank you thank you!" Steve howled as soon as he felt Sir's fingers finally punch into his prostate repeatedly, almost crying in relief as he kept repeating his thank yous.

All Bucky could do was just raise his eyebrows at his baby's reaction, smoothing his hand down Steve's back, knowing he had way more in store for the hot mess in front of him...

Truly yours

- pleading anon

Jesus Christ

How could you do this to me?! 😮‍💨😮‍💨🥴 Like--

I am always here for the pairing of a wrecked partner with composed, basically unbothered partner.

There's just 🤌🏻something🤌🏻 about it. About the complete loss of control vs the complete control. It's delicious. A five course meal, at least.

And the suit--

The 👏🏻 suit 👏🏻

Steve, poor Steve, is naked and writhing (as much as he can when restrained in leather wrist and ankle cuffs, attached together over his back into a hog tie with Bucky spreading his knees apart to get at his hole) and frustrated and then so grateful as he's given what he needs after begging for it. But, all the while, Bucky is fully covered, not even breaking a sweat. Hell, he hasn't even bothered to push up his dress shirt sleeves or take off his suit jacket. He's so precise. Using just enough lube to have his way with Steve but not enough to drip and mess up his nice clothes. It drives Steve insane. Bucky has control. He has composure. He is competent. He knows what he wants, and he will get it.

Even with Steve, he's competent, composed, and in control. He knows exactly what he expects from Steve, and he will get what he wants--what he expects.

Especially with Steve.

Steve wants to be good. He aches to be good.

By the time Steve is through crying out his orgasm and the shakes from such gripping pleasure are gone, he's turning over his shoulder--the only real movement he can make when restrained the way he is--looking back at Bucky with open lips, wracking his brain for the ability to talk. He is more than ready to offer up whatever Bucky wants: his mouth, his stretched, now oversensitive hole, his fingers or hands, even his thighs or his tits. Anything.

Yet, Bucky doesn't say anything; he simply tilts his head to the side ever so slightly, questioning Steve without having to say a word. What? You want something?

Steve wants to get Bucky off, too! As good as he feels now, he knows he'll feel gooder with the knowledge that he's pleased the other man.

However, there's one problem beyond Steve's inability to get his fried brain to move his lips, teeth, and tongue to speak... Bucky is so put together that he's not even hard in his slacks.

How?

Not that Steve can see, at least. It's just the regular, tightly packed bulge of his soft cock in his pants. Nothing more.

And, oh, God, that should make Steve feel ashamed and insecure--was he not enough? Does Bucky not find him attractive? What? But none of those thoughts come. All that happens is a wave of hot, prickly arousal crashing over him. Steve chokes, gut-punched by the sneaker wave. It's such an intense feeling. Here's more proof of how Bucky can control himself. He can control his body. Meanwhile, Steve is at the mercy of his most animal desires--his base instincts that scream for sex. Steve's is simple and easy. Begging and pleading and crying. Stripped down to nothing but naked desperation. The contrast is immense. It couldn't be hotter.

Bucky is so...

So composed.

Not a hair out of place, dressed for business, serious business, and he's just penciled Steve's shameless need in a quick fifteen minute window (fifteen because, yeah, of course, Steve can't even control himself in that regard, always off like a shot with just a taste of pleasure) because he's booked the rest of the day.

Bucky squeezes Steve's bare ass possessively and Steve squirms on the inside, muscles too weak to do it on the outside now, "you're going to let me fuck you when I get home. Before dinner." Bucky tells him. "We can have take-out after--whatever you want."

"Y-yes, sir," Steve says in a rush, unable to keep holding his head up and letting it smack down onto the bed. He feels like he can't breath, all the air has been knocked out of him with how turned on he is.

If he could, he'd hump the mattress. It doesn't matter that he's not hard again yet. He's just...

Turned on.

"Good." Bucky informs him, undoing his cuffs with practiced ease and efficiency.

"Uh-huh," Steve moans, like it matters. Bucky's made up his mind, and Steve will follow. Steve loves to follow.

Thank you so much for this idea, sweetheart!

#asks #pleading anon #fandomfluffandfuck #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky

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sebsxphia · 2 years

Note

“I don’t care if it takes all night, you will submit.” Screams mean dom!Bradley to me. Don’t ask me why.

I’m gonna tie this into poly!squad because brain rot. Everyone else is out of town for the weekend, leaving you alone with Bradley. You have a habit of behaving for everyone but him. To you, he’s a big, sweet push over and you take advantage of that at every turn. Now that he’s seen how Bob handles you when you misbehave, he’s going to give it a shot.

Foaming at the mouth at the thot 🥴 ILYSM, beloved! Hope you have an amazing day - Teddy 🧸💖

ooohooohhoohhhhhhh now we’re talking teddy!!!!!!

“Now that he’s seen how Bob handles you when you misbehave, he’s going to give it a shot.” is so key to understand in this thot!!!

“bunny, did you clean the bathroom like i asked?” bradley pokes his head round the archway through to your living room as he sees you mindlessly on your phone. “nope.” is all you reply without even looking at him. “bunny.” he gives you a warning tone as he comes over to you, towering above you. he cocks his head at you. “don’t you want to make it nice for the others when they’re home?”

“bob can do it when he’s back.” still you pay him no attention. “i’m sure bob would love to hear you tell him that.” he responds. you wait awhile before replying back to him, biting your tongue as the words come out of your mouth. “it doesn’t matter anyway. you’re not bob.”

that makes bradley tick. not only does he want to make sure your home is lovingly ready for them, he’s also tired of you seeing him as a pushover. after thursday’s encounter of bob making you cry all night because you didn’t put the dishes away, he’s going to give it a shot himself.

he snatches your phone out of your hand and throws you over his broad shoulder and delivers a harsh smack to each cheek. the bruises from bob making it sting further. you yelp out at the stinging sensation and squirm in his grasp. “squirm all you want, bunny. you’re doing as i tell you.” you paw at his back in protest. “no, i won’t!”

he places you down onto your en-suite bathroom floor and gives your cheeks and firm squeeze. “stay here.” when you roll your eyes he squeezes tighter making you whimper. you hear him rummaging around in the top draw of your dresser. you know what’s in that draw.

he comes back with a vibe and a remote control in each hand. he hoists you up onto the sink counter and parts your thighs with a tight grip. he doesn’t have any issue sliding the vibe inside of you and his hard demeanor slips only for a second when he presses a bruising kiss to your lips. “so fucking wet. already.” you groan against his touch when he turns it on, only at a low vibration.

he snaps back to your punishment and pulls you back down to the floor, the tiles pressing on your knees. “you’re going to clean this bathroom while coming as many times as i deem fit. i don’t care if it takes all night bunny, you will submit.”

thank you so so much for this incredible thot my beloved!! i too hope you’re having an amazing day, i love you to the moon and back darlin’!!! 💌🫶🏼💖

#💌you’ve got mail #thesluttyarchivist #my wife 💍#poly!squad #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x y/n #rooster x reader #rooster x you

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pukicho-is-good

Mostly memes

all-mirrors

push the sky away