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#most of it is totally self indulgent and won’t see the light of day
kabibblewrites · 8 months
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“What have you got there?”
*shuffles 65 page WIP I’ve been working on for a literal decade into the corner*
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serendipitous-magic · 3 years
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What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?
If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.
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1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.
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2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.
Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.
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3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.
However, here are the rules you must follow:
-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.
-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.
-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)
-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.
... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.
That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...
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4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.
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5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.
Here’s how I cheat that:
Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.
Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.
Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.
Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.
And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.
You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...
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6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.
“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”
You won’t.
Write it down.
Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.
And then, once you have it written down somewhere...
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7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.
Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.
Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.
(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)
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8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.
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9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.
But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.
Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”
Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.
Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”
This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.
If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.
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10) You don’t have to write in order.
Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.
But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.
Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.
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11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.
If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.
If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.
When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.
This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery. 
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12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.
Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.
Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.
Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.
Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.
They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.
Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.
Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.
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13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.
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14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.
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15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.
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16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.
I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”
And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.
Here are the things you must know about your character:
a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?
And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.
b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?
Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story. 
It also informs character behavior and personality. 
Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.
Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.
These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.
Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.
In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.
Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.
Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.
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I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.
Best of luck!
Edit: I forgot an important one:
17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.
What do I mean by that?
If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”
Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.
Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.
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chiwhorei · 3 years
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the folly of man
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pairing: e. todoroki x fem!reader
genre: smut, 18+ minors dni
word count: ~2.6k
tags: the softest!enji there ever was, crybabie!reader, age gap (20ish vs. 50), d/s dynamics, belly bulge, squirting, overstim, daddy kink, size kink, dacryphilia, a spank, breeding kink, creampie, i am dramatic and clinically melancholy so it’s a little angsty but it’s really just unabashed, self-indulgent fluff
a/n: i screamed about soft!enji to @messwriting a few weeks ago, then the other night enji took me to paris and wrecked my shit in my dreams. the result? complete self-indulgence. i will not be taking criticism on my desire to fuck this man, he is a drawing. (the banner image is from the lonely doll by dare wright, if you know this book we probably have very similar issues sksksksksk)
hymn: angel by finneas
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“Abashed the devil stood and felt how awful goodness is and saw Virtue in her shape how lovely: and pined his loss,” ~ John Milton, Paradise Lost
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He swears it’s your quirk that got him. Grabbed him by the collar, stole his soul from his chest— you swiped it right from his rib cage.
You sit across from him, legs folded under each other and pen pressing against your lips. Is it your lips? Or the way words curl past them?
A siren’s call in the form of a 20-something journalist. He hates the likes— prodding for sound bites and snippets to plaster across front pages. But your figure buckles in on itself, nerves weighing down the fabric of a light pink blouse and tight-yet-tasteful pencil skirt. Your presence is gentle and honeyed, it feels warm where Enji is usually burning hot.
Your fever spreads across his cheeks and nose.
“I’m sorry, sir, did you need me to repeat the question?”
Your bottom lip trembles nervously, pulled in between your teeth to gnaw on. Freshly graduated and on your very first assignment, it seemed hilarious to send the newly minted recruit into a white-hot tongue lashing.
“Mr. Number One has chewed the head off of every reporter in Japan, it’s a right of passage.”
The echo of your colleague’s stifled laugh rings in your ear as you stare back, you scan over the small wrinkles by his eyes and the jagged scar across his face. The silvered skin curves around his features like atonement. There’s something about the prolific hero that seems to pull you towards him. You grab the side of your chair so as to not fall forward right into his orbit.
Any attempt at distance was doomed from the beginning.
He shakes his head, eyes darting from either of yours to find the question you asked him. He coughs awkwardly, nodding his head for you to continue. Any desire to snap at you dissolves into the carpet with the very first laugh. You let out a small, tinkling giggle against better judgement that cracks the glassed tension.
“What is your biggest inspiration?”
The question hangs in the air a moment before a rehearsed answer falls from his mouth, something about the citizens of his community and the desire to keep his country safe. Whatever tumbles out is less interesting than how you smile in response.
Every person in the room-- agents, publicists, the poor intern holding a black coffee in his trembling hands-- watch on, collectively agape, at the scene before them.
Flame Hero: Endeavor breaks composure for a moment to send you a docile, lopsided smile.
You decide it’s something you won’t soon get tired of seeing.
“Did you get everything you wanted,” his voice trails off with a hint of uncertainty, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head, “I could answer a few more questions over dinner.”
Enji stands in shock at his own behavior, the inferno flickers little more than a candle in your eyeline. Every minute holds sixty seconds of opportunity, and Enji’s hair is graying at the ends. Even if you brush the dusty old hero from your shoulders with guffaw, even if you roll your eyes or kiss his insole with a pointed heel. He can’t afford to waste a moment more.
It has to be your quirk, he decides, reciting like a prayer the only logical answer to his sweating palms and clambering heart. Nothing makes sense but keeping you within arms reach. It must be some kind of hypnosis, maybe a pheromone.
Enji’s penance lies in the soft, supplied skin of a quirkless civilian.
***
There are few places that have felt like home, no matter what four walls build a house around him. He alone is responsible for each one decaying. He deserves a spot in every plane of hell.
Enji leans against the headboard, scanning over pages of John Milton and enjoying the quiet just after dusk. Looking over the top of his glasses, the book in hand falls out of frame, like most everything does.
Pink lace hangs like bated breath from your shoulders and hips. You look on to him for approval, the set your eyes had lingered on in a boutique window now brandishes the swell of your breasts.
“My perfect girl.” His words are filled with wonder, pulling at the ends of his mouth when you twirl, the ends of flowing lace pick up around you like wings.
Winter air creeps from the open balcony to hit your skin, spreading chills down every inch. Enji watches as you shiver, the cool breeze prickles past pick lace with little effort.
“Come here.” Enji tosses his glasses and book to the bedside table and pats his lap.
Nothing feels more like home than when you settle to lie atop his naked chest, cheek pressed firmly against his pulse.
You rest your chin against his sternum, hands crawling up to find warmth from his skin. He feels the thin, golden ring as your touch trails around his neck.
His own hands, calloused and battered, eclipse over your lower back to find purchase against your ass.
Away from the prying eyes of domestic paparazzi and forty minutes outside of Paris— Enji cuts out what feels like a stolen heaven.
Idle chat about the museum he took you to today fills the room comfortably. Your fingertip comes down to trace the lines of marred skin across the bridge of his nose, he hums and smiles as you talk about paintings.
None stood out to him.
He takes your hand in his much bigger one, kissing the band that mimics his own. You tangle your fingers together.
“This feels like a dream,” your voice is barely above a whisper, lest the night air hears the talk of lovers.
“I’m not totally convinced you aren’t a dream.” Enji pulls you to sit back against his legs, in this position you can meet his eyes without straining upward. Strong hands come down to rest at your hips, thumbs rubbing lightly against the lingerie’s fabric.
You scoff, batting at his chest, you laugh his comments off in moments like this. But Enji is convinced one day you will lift straight from the world with nothing left but your shoes keeping the earth weighted down.
Soft lips ghost over his, an invitation he’ll never refuse. Your mouth is against him, small hands coming to either side of Enji’s face. His graying stubble is coarse under your fingers. You inhale deeply, he smells like campfire and expensive cologne. Your tongue slips between his lips. His mouth tastes like the remnants of the bottle of red wine you shared after dinner
The hands around your middle pull your impossibly closer, pressing into your lower back to grind your hips down against the bulge in his sweatpants. Your body moves against him, panties rubbing against your already throbbing clit.
“Daddy.” The title wraps in chords around his vertebrae, the sounds of whimpering hits his ear, and he notices the wet patch rubbing right against his knee.
“What do you want, princess? Tell daddy what you want.” The maneuvering of your hips starts slow, but Enji has you almost bouncing on his leg before you can answer him. Both of your hands wrap around his left wrist, tugging it in between your legs.
“I want you to touch me, please. I- I need it.” You bite the inside of your cheek when the pads of his fingers graze the damp, thin material of your panties, his burning touch sets every blood cell aflame.
“You’re so wet, princess, what’s got you all worked up?” There’s a gleam of humor in his voice, seeing you desperate for him has Enji stiffening beneath you.
“My precious little thing, I’ll take good care of you.” His words write you a promise, it extends far past a night of love in Paris.
You can feel his assurance carved into your heart.
Enji’s hand dips into the front of your underwear, ghosting over your clit and running against your swollen lips. He marvels at your response, the smallest ministrations have your head rolling to the side.
His pointer and middle finger prod against you, inching inside carefully. Even with the utmost care, you wince at the stretch. No matter how many times he’s fucked you open in this whirlwind year,
“You’re tighter than a fucking vise, Christ.”
A long moan escapes you, knees moving to dig into the mattress below you for leverage to buck against his hand. Enji curls his fingers upwards, calloused tips finding the spongy patch of skin that has you squirming. His fingers cross over each other, pumping into you and easing you to relax against the intrusion.
“Daddy, I want your cock. I’m ready, please.” The heat in your core is rising, licking against your nerves like wildfire. Enji tutts in response to your begging, his thumb coming down to rub taught circles into your clit.
“I know, princess, but you remember the rules. Cum on my fingers, and I’ll give you what you want.” Enji picks up the pace of his fingers, his own patience thinning at the edges with each call for your daddy.
“Close, ‘m close,” your voice wobbles, aching legs pushing you against him, chasing desperately for that first release.
Enji feels you clenching tight in finality, a squeal breaching the steamy space around you. You crack in his tight hold, the taste of bliss coats your tongue-- it tastes like tears.
You slump forward against his chest, coming to float back down to earth before he sends you hurdling back towards the sun.
“You’re so beautiful, princess, absolutely perfect.” Enji’s voice is heavy, lined with a certain bitterness you are familiar with. His compliments always sound like apologies.
You lift your head, forehead pressing against his, the stray hair around your face tickling his skin.
There aren’t words that could heal decades. No amount of atonement, no prayers to any gods will fix a life of despair. He shoulders the blame of it all, heavy against bones and muscle.
Moving to kiss him tenderly, lips pulling him back into the world's sweetest direction. You shouldn’t let him use you as his redemption. If Enji were another man, a better man, he would have walked away from you that fateful afternoon under fluorescent light with just the fleeting feeling you dipped his heart in.
He’s not any kind of good in this world, Enji is a foolish bastard.
He’ll keep kissing you, he’ll touch and lick and fuck you until your wings pick up in the wind and fly you away.
“I want to ride your cock, Daddy. Let me make you feel good too.” You beg for him once again, you beg to be a distraction, the sweetest kind of diversion-- hidden snugly in the quiet of a French villa.
Enji is meticulous with stripping you of the dainty lace, brushing off the straps of your bra so the cups fall right under your pert nipples. He moves his hands slowly, snaking up your sides to swipe his thumbs against the pebbled buds. You don’t try to stop the wines falling like prayer, your body still on edge from your first orgasm.
He pulls off your soaked panties, eyes tracing the strings of slick collecting and breaking off from your glistening cunt.
“Such a precious little pussy, and it’s all mine.” Enji frees his cock from his sweats and boxers, the length springing to slap against his abdomen. He pumps his hand a few times before pressing it against your stomach. It’s no surprise that his size is impressive, long and thick in an ever-intimidating way.
Enji admires how his cock presses against you, tip nudging against your belly button. In comparison to your smaller form, it’s a wonder he hasn’t ripped you in half.
You’d let him.
“No more teasing, Daddy. I need it, please.” Desperation sparks against your nerves, igniting with the sharp sound of Enji’s hand against your ass.
“Don’t get mouthy now, princess.” His warning is light, he’s never been good at denying you.
He pulls your hips up, lining himself up so you can sink down onto him. If his fingers make you whimper, the first breach of his shaft makes you wail.
Your hands find his shoulders, digging in to steady yourself with every deliciously unforgiving inch. You’ll never get used to his size, you never want to.
Enji has held composure with white knuckles, but his resolve is rusting with every movement of your descent. His desire to tear into you becomes untamable, his mind swims in with the velveteen grip you suck him in with.
“You’re mine, fuck, you’re mine forever.” He will promise you until he believes it himself.
He’ll believe in forever if forever means you.
The folly of man is nestled at the apex of your thighs, is pleading gasps, is begging for more, is too much and too little.
And Enji is a fool in love.
The gates of heaven open between your quivering legs to let the devil in. He’ll take every moment he can steal.
As your hips settle down finally, the feeling of being so completely full has tears collecting in your lashes to run down your cheeks. It’s depraved, truly, how beautiful your destruction is.
Enji gives you a moment, adjusting to his size and relaxing, his hand comes down to rub against your stomach, tracing against the skin lightly.
“I can feel it,” his breath hitches, the pulsing around him is dizzying, he feels his tip as it moves inside of you, “fuck, I can feel my cock in your tummy.”
Shaky thighs start moving above him, the bounce of fat and flesh atop his hardened body. He can’t help the declarations flying from his mouth, he can’t stop the itching feeling to make you his completely.
“I want to fuck a baby into you, want to fill you so full.” He can feel the way your body reacts to his most perverse desire, “I want you round and swollen with my child.”
Enji grabs your hips, taking control and quickening the pace of his assault on your weeping pussy. You cry out, a string of babbled, “Please, daddy, please fuck me full, s-so full.”
You can feel your second orgasm bubbling up with each stroke of Enji’s cock against your abused pussy. All words are lost, all thoughts fuzzy aside from the man pounding himself into you from below.
“Cum around me, little girl, cum around my cock.” Enji’s words are little more than a growl, head thrown back into the pillows as you constrict around him. His fingers come down against your clit again, rubbing with fervor. He’s adamant on throwing you head-first, body limp and overstimulated in every way.
You feel it in the gnashing of your teeth, the wound chord snapping like floss around Enji. You feel yourself gushing, your cum leaking around him and dripping onto the bed sheets.
Enji cums with one final buck, hips lifting off of the bed as he spills into you. You can feel the thick spurts against your still pulsating walls, filling you to the brim and trickling out even before you separate.
He stays inside of you for a moment, large hands wrapped around your middle, pulling you to crumble into his chest. You collapse against his warm, jagged skin. He lulls you with soft strokes to your hair, behind the flush and sweat on your face, he sees the dizzy, love-drunk expression tugging on your lips.
No matter how many times you disagree, Enji knows it’s true.
The swelling, disorienting feeling of your smile. The visions of a future, of the life he doesn't deserve but wouldn’t give up for any deal the devil could make him. The sight of you, simply and without motive, every day.
It has to be your quirk.
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all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️
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bbyboybucket · 2 years
Text
Clingy
Bucky Barnes x Reader
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Summary: you and your boyfriend missed each other while you’ve been gone. (Or basically just fluffy cuddles)
A/N- Very very short Drabble that’s totally self indulgent but also to make up for the fact that I haven’t updated my series. Also I’m pretty sure this is Gender Neutral because I don’t think I wrote anything that described femininity. But I won’t tag it as such just in case.
Warnings: Kissing? One pet name? That’s literally it. Not even language. This is pure, innocent fluff.
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You’d been gone for over a week due to the fact that you’d been sent on a mission. Unfortunately, this was one of the occurrences that Bucky wasn’t assigned to accompany your team. So now that it was over, all you wanted in the world was to spend time with your boyfriend, whom you’d been yearning to see and spend time with. The most you’d gotten in the past days was a few FaceTime calls and it had barely sufficed.
When you entered your shared apartment, you greeted Bucky with a big, warm hug as well as a long lasting kiss. Of course though, you desperately needed to shower. You went over the details of your week, how the mission went other than the updates you’d been providing him over the phone, briefly. To your dismay, as well as his, you informed him of your need to shower and promised you’d be back to spend time with him immediately after.
You kept that promise. You successfully shortened the time you spent cleaning yourself up, as much as you could. You threw a pair sweatpants and one of his t-shirts on over your tired body. You came back with your hair still slightly dripping and made your way to the couch, where he was sitting.
You took a seat in his lap and tossed your legs over to his left, before nuzzling the side of your body into his. Your head laid in the crook of his neck, your eyes were closed peacefully, as you simply took in his warmth and his scent. He wrapped his arms around you, tightly yet gently, and used one hand to stroke your forearm.
The soft sound of his breathes in the otherwise quiet room almost lulled you to sleep, until you felt a kiss placed on your forehead. A smile grew on your lips as he then rested his cheek on top of your head.
You stayed like that for a while, residing in that comforting, tranquil silence. You nudged your face upwards to look at him, meeting those huge, blue eyes with your own. You shifted a bit to bring your hand to his chin, lightly scratching your nails over his beard.
“You’re so pretty, Buck.” You cooed, fingers still dancing across his jawline.
He blushed and a light hearted grin followed. “Pretty, hm? That’s a new one.” He whispered.
“It’s true. You are pretty.”
“Well, I’d argue that you’re prettier.” Bucky replied sweetly, combing his fingers through your wet hair.
You pulled yourself upwards a bit to plant a light peck on his plump lips, and then pressed your foreheads together, your nose brushing against his. “I missed you. A lot.”
“I missed you too, darling.” He whispered, his warm breath hitting your skin.
You pulled away to look at him again, now cupping his cheek and smoothing your thumb across it repeatedly. He leaned in to your touch a bit. “Does it sound clingy if I say I don’t wanna spend that much time away from you again?” You asked, half jokingly.
“Maybe.” He chuckles a bit, his chest rumbled against you as he did. “But I feel the same so I guess that makes me clingy too.”
He pulled your face close to his once again, and kissed you. He dragged his tongue across yours slowly and sensually. He lightly bit your bottom lip, barely grazing it with his teeth before your tongues met again and danced across each other. The kiss, every movement of your mouths, were slow, sweet, and filled with nothing but love. It went on for a few minutes, that silence in the room, filled with nearly quiet sounds of lips smacking.
When you broke away, his eyes fell on you lovingly, as if he was admiring you. You gleamed at him, reciprocating that admiration, before yawning slightly.
“You’re tired.” He said, stating fact rather than asking it as a question.
“Very.”
“Come on. Let’s get you some beauty rest. I’ll carry you.” He prompted and you mumbled an okay before wrapping your arms around his neck, allowing him to lift you as he brought his own body up from the couch.
It didn’t take too much time of snuggling, cozy in bed, before you both were fast asleep in each other’s hold.
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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years
Note
congrats on 2k followers!!!!!! you're such a wonderful person and you deserve to be celebrated! for the emoji fic fest i'd like to send in the following emojis for raleigh becket: 😚☂️💦
Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! And thanks for the congrats and kind words! 💗
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Under My Umbrella
Pairing: Raleigh Becket x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, random silly song references, Raleigh being a big dorky softie but also (shockingly!?) down to fuck immediately Word Count: ~1.6k Emoji Prompt: 😚☂️💦 (key words are in bold)
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The breach is closed. The war is over and he saved the world and everybody knows.
And that’s the problem. Raleigh Becket doesn’t like the way the spotlight overcomes him. Light he never chose, so blinding as it glows. The way the masses flock like moths drawn to the halo set above him and blindly believe they love him. That’s not love—they know of what he did to save the day when push came to a cataclysmic shove, but truly they know nothing of him.
It’s a shame to live in fame. Beneath the shadow of his own overblown name. He doesn’t have the massive ego, to embrace the role of hero, to indulge when strangers scream after him everywhere he goes. He worries that his life won’t ever be the same.
That was what drove him to this small town tucked away and hid, a little off the grid—and he’s felt better ever since he came. He’ll never be completely unknown, but at least the crowds are tame, and leave him well enough alone. He’s so alone lately it’s almost lame.
He likes it that way though. Likes his routine of waking up and waiting at the bus stop, working at his humble job. The pay is low. Even more so when business is slow. And Raleigh savors the simplicity, the contrast to the constant flash of cameras when he was recently living in the city. Even the weather helps his cause by often shrouding this small town in rain and snow.
He’s the new golden boy in town you haven’t met. You’ve heard the rumors of a cutie who just moved here but you haven’t crossed paths yet. When you hurry to the bus stop this fine morning, find yourself caught in a downpour without warning… that’s when you finally set eyes on Raleigh Becket. Suddenly the rain is not the only thing getting you wet.
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You would have made sure to bump into him much sooner had you known that this is what your ass was missing. Even when his mane is damp-darkened by the rain you can still tell he’s got a bright blonde head of hair. Big eyes as blue as the Pacific and deliciously pink lips just made for kissing. You could swear, you’ve seen his face somewhere… but even if you hadn’t you would still shamelessly stare.
You’d missed the forecast so arrived at the bus stop without an umbrella in hand. The golden god has one but you do not want him to think you’re staring at him as a hint that he should share it with you; that’d be a bitchy thing to do, to make such a passive-aggressive demand.
From Raleigh’s end—once he’s calmed himself down after reacting to the most beautiful girl who’s ever come around the bend—he clears his throat and clumsily invites you now to join him where he stands.
“Y-you can stand under my umbrella.”
He just says it with no introductory words. You find it cute as fuck that he’s so awkward. It’s a good thing too, given the awkward vibes uncontrollably coming off of you. “–ella, ella…”
You had just murmured it quietly… then bitterly regret that shit immediately. Cursing yourself silently for your idiocy. Maybe the poor guy doesn’t even know this reference to a song from the 2000s or whenever it was.
But apparently he does. The next thing that he bashfully goes on to say: “… ey, ey, ey.”
Suddenly all your insecurities about your stupid sense of humor fade away. All you can think about is standing under his umbrella and hopefully sitting on his cock later today.
***************
This bastard smells so fucking good it isn’t fair.
Can probably hear you breathing him so deep but you don’t even care. Standing beside this total stranger you have never felt such comfort anywhere. That subtle clean scent of simple unscented soap… mixed with the warmth of honeycomb and home and hope… cinnamon sugar muffins, sweet and soft and fresh out of the oven. Smells so wholesome you can’t cope.
You want to say something but don’t even know what. After a few seconds of silence steal another glimpse up at his gorgeous face and have to stop yourself from moaning like a slut.
… That’s when it hits you who he is. You were too caught up in his beauty that you hadn’t even realized who this hero truly is.
And Raleigh senses it the moment that you recognize—picks up on that familiar jolt of such starstruck surprise, that makes him feel like he’s an object for a sea of prying eyes. Less of a person, more a prize. It kind of hurts him, as he wishes he could meet a pretty girl and flirt a little bit, without his reputation far preceding him and getting in the middle of it. Wishes he could carry on like all the ‘normal’ guys.
Then he remembers he’s an awfully shitty flirt. That helps a little with the self-pitying hurt.
You gather up your fallen jaw to ask him the obligatory question as it’s naturally the only thing to do. “Are you…”
But then you pause—notice the shadow fall across his gaze of blue—you hate to think you were the cause. You can’t begin to process all his thoughts and what he’s been through, but you understand on some level that just because the whole wide world regards him with applause, that doesn’t mean you have to stand here and remind him that it’s true.
And so instead you just finish the sentence with something painfully dumb. The words just come, because all two of your brain cells are doing their usual stupid dance. “… are you into piña coladas by any chance?”
The sadness in his gaze fades a bit as he casts you a curious glance.
You backtrack to explain your silly words. You’ve referred to a super old song yet again, even older this time and he might not get it so you have to explain. You feel so fucking awkward. “I–I just thought that maybe since we’ve already gotten caught in the rain… we could work backwards…”
Before you can carry on with your explanation, Raleigh’s blushing face lights up in realization. His adorable pink cheeks flush red. “Oh my God I’m so sorry that went right over my head!”
He’s so fucking precious you can’t even stand it. Too cute to be true. You laugh off what you’d said and just shoot the shit, for a few minutes—or more than a few—till the two of you realize the bus isn’t coming and that you are stranded.
“Well, I guess I’ll just call in sick today.” He shrugs but shocks himself a little bit ‘cause that was not at all a Raleigh thing to say. He’d never lie about his reason for an absence from the job. Yet he might have to, if he hopes to carry on chatting with you, all day here under his umbrella at this lonely little bus stop.
“Me too,” you coo, smiling up at this wholesome heartthrob, then nervously shuffling your feet and looking out into the steady sheets of rainfall that surround you. Wondering whether or not he took the hint that you were asking him out on a date with that piña colada thing. You hope he didn’t; if he had gotten the hint, he isn’t answering.
As soon as the thought enters your mind, he picks up on your anxious energy and hits rewind. “Back to your piña colada question—I’ve, uh… actually never had one.”
Your heart perks up in happiness based on the promise in his tone. The promise that the two of you won’t have to spend this rainy day alone. The next words out of your mouth are a little flirtier than they should be maybe, but he’s such an innocent baby, that you just can’t help but have a little fun. “I’d bet there are a lot of things you’ve never done…”
Blue eyes go wide as if your insult was obscene. But Raleigh can’t stay mad at such a pretty girl. “What’s that supposed to mean?! I’ll have you know I saved the fucking world!”
And just like that he’s fucking told you—even though his tone is playful it’s still true—and though you obviously knew, he finds he’s no longer compelled to hide that part of him from view. The way he always used to do. As if he knows that you want all of him and not only the surface-level shit, as if you see into him more than just a little bit, whereas the rest of the world sees right fucking through.
He knows that you only just met, so maybe it’s too early to be feeling shit like this but he’ll take any glimpse of hope that he can get.
You take his hand and feel his pulse in sync with yours as your hearts race. Pure fucking joy. “C’mon golden boy, I know just the place.”
The place for his first frozen pineapple coconut drink. The place for his first indulgence in a new fucking kink: screwing someone he only just met in the bathroom of this little diner and whispering filth in your ear as he rails you so hard that the force of it might break the sink.
Through all the purity of Raleigh there is definitely something fucking dirty and you caught it from the first blink. Now you’ve gone and stirred it up in him turns out he’s even dirtier than you would ever think.
You standing under his umbrella was the start; you lifting him out of the shadows over his head sparks a new light in his heart. And you awakening new sides of him is honestly the sweetest fucking part.
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Text
not allowed, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader; established relationship yoongi x reader
summary: The love of your life, BTS’s very own Min Yoongi, tells you he has a gift for you. But he also says you’re not allowed to refuse. What’s that supposed to mean, hm? Surely not... wild hot sex with the Golden Maknae himself?
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship with Yoongi (takes place after his surgery); smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral, dirty talk, penetrative sex, doggy, spanking); idol!BTS; it’s self-indulgent and I’m a little ashamed but it’s too late now, whoops
--
Just... just looking through the Twitter tag couldn't hurt, right?
You scrolled through the pictures slowly. They performed really well these past two days. Received all the awards they deserved, because BTS were the best. Still, it depressed you seeing the empty space where Min Yoongi was supposed to be. 
But that was because Yoongi was beside you, propped up in the bed with pillows, scrolling on his phone with his right hand. Occasionally, he would lower it to use both hands, since his left arm was still in the sling. You two had watched the MMA and MAMA 2020 performances together. You knew he wanted to be there. You could hear it in his voice when he called in. 
Oh, that’s right, were you supposed to be in his apartment?
No. 
But you didn't care about rules and neither did Yoongi. 
Were you dating? Well, as much as dating could be when it came to a relationship with the most loved 'lil meow meow' in the whole world. 
Yoongi always gave you this look of disapproval when you called him that, but you would always just smile and say it again, slower. 
It was the kind of thing that simply fell into place and neither of you wanted to convolute it with too many other opinions or thoughts. What happened, happened. You weren't going to make yourself known or ask for impossible things. When he told you that he was getting surgery for his left shoulder and wouldn’t have schedules for a long while, you cashed in on all those sick hours you accumulated at work, stating you had to take care of a loved one. 
No one knew your loved one was Min Yoongi. And that's way you two liked it. 
Yoongi leaned over to the long straw of the water bottle tucked in the crook of your arm. 
"Staring at our maknae again?"
You stiffened. "I'm looking at all their pictures, Yoongi. Just happened to stop on Jungkook."
He took a short sip.
"Mmm-hmm."
A few seconds past. You stared at Jungkook’s intense dark eyes, his long hair flying about from dancing, his clenched jaw as he focused. Looking sinful in all white, tempting you to save the photos.
"You're not changing the screen."
"I'm admiring the stylists' hard work."
Yoongi hummed. "You're a bad liar."
You would have thrown your phone at him if it wasn't the special edition BTS S20+, complete with a Shooky phone case. You swiped past, seeing the image of Jungkook lifting Jimin in the Black Swan performance.
"I should tell him."
You narrowed your eyes at him. "Sick of me?"
"No." He pointed to his left arm. "Can't take care of you either."
"I don't want to be the reason you need more months of physical therapy. I'm fine."
Yoongi placed his phone in his lap and placed his right arm around your shoulders. "We could risk it," he purred. 
You chuckled. "I don't think that's a good idea." You leaned your head against his shoulder. "I want to see you preform again."
"But you still want to bang Jungkookie."
A muscle in your eyebrow twitched. "I'm only looking at the pictures, Yoongi. You know you're the only one for me."
"You wouldn't try? Even if he begged you?"
You turned to Yoongi and his crafty smirk. "No." You stared at his lips and leaned in, kissing him lightly. You smiled against them. "I love you, Yoongi." Your smile turned into a smirk. "I worked too hard to sneak in here. Even outsmarted Dispatch. You can't get rid of me so easily."
Yoongi smiled back. He leaned against the headboard.
"What if I was okay with it?”
You blinked at him. "Why would you be okay with it?”
Yoongi shrugged. "You're mine, no matter what, no? Not even Jungkook's dick is going to change that."
"... Hah?"
Yoongi held up his hand, long fingers spread out. He ticked them down as he spoke. "Pros: my woman gets to satisfy her little crush, gets the fucking she wants, and will be happy."
You felt your ears burn. "Yoongi..."
Yoongi raised an eyebrow, wicked smile on his lips. "Cons... none."
You rolled your eyes. "You'd be pissed off."
He tilted his head. "What do I have to be pissed off for? Are you saying there's a reason I should be worried?"
You frowned. "No. Even if it did happen, which it won't, you will always be number one."
Yoongi nodded. "There you go."
You let out a puff of air. "I don't think Jungkook would agree anyway. And I wouldn't do it, because it's not the right thing to do."
"Who decided it's wrong?"
You made a face. "I don't know... society?"
"And we trust that societal rules are just and moral?"
"I mean, no..."
-
Washing your hair was always a pain in the ass.
You had to blow-dry it upside down, add five products at different stages, brush it super carefully with a special brush to avoid breakage, collect the fallen hair and throw it out, blah blah blah.
You shrugged on one of Yoongi's shirts after the shower – the black-and-white checkered one he wore during his VLive. Running your hand through your hair, you finally picked up your phone. Yoongi was at physical therapy, so he wouldn't be back for a while. You had some messages from him, probably before he had to put his phone away.
I sent you a gift. It will arrive today. You are not allowed to refuse.
You raised your eyebrows at that. 
P.S. Merry early Christmas. 
Was it jewelry? You pursed your lips. You always told Yoongi not to buy you things. Firstly, because you felt bad you could never reciprocate the amount he spent. You didn't make the money he made, after all. And secondly, you weren't that interested in owning expensive things. The only expensive items you loved were technology-based. Yoongi and you bonded over the newest Samsung products and always kept an eye on the latest tech. 
Maybe that was it? Maybe you had to collect a package. You mused, brushing your teeth. You were going to borrow Yoongi's pants, but you had to go hunt for some. After the teeth brushing. 
You spat and gargled some water.
The front door opened. 
You frowned. Was physical therapy canceled? Yoongi didn't have people come in and clean the apartment, because he didn't want anyone to find you. You weren't supposed to be here and no one knew you were here – except for his members, of course. But they didn't have the key, so it had to be Yoongi. You waited, in case there was someone outside. You didn't want them to hear your voice. The door closed and relocked.
You spat and rinsed out your mouth before turning off the light and going to the hallway.
"Yoongi, was physical therapy can–"
The head of long black hair lifted and turned around. He was in the middle of taking off his black sneakers. He pulled down his black face mask.
It was not Yoongi. 
"Hey, noona."
Abort.
You backed up. 
"J-J-Jungkook?"
The mischievous maknae grinned. 
"I'm the gift."
Your eyes widened. You whipped your phone to your face, nearly dropping it, juggling it for two seconds before slapping it between your palms and rereading Yoongi's messages. Rereading them way too many times because what? What, what, WHAT?
"D-don't you have p-practice?" Why were you stuttering? You never stuttered. But you never had that conversation with Yoongi until a couple days ago either. 
"I have some time, but I have to go back, yeah," Jungkook replied, far too cheerfully for how flustered you were. He was probably trying not to laugh at you. 
"How did you get in? And what do you mean, y-you're the...?"
You felt like your world was spinning. Did Jeon Jungkook just announce he was the gift? What? You're not allowed to refuse. Of course, you were going to refuse! This was Min Yoongi you were in love with! The cutest in the entire world! 
Jungkook brushed back part of his long hair and tucked it behind his ear, revealing half of his forehead and his silver hoops. Smirk on his pink lips, the mole underneath his lower lip winking at you. Skin tan and glowing in the hallway light.
...
Okay, yes, Jeon Jungkook was very handsome, but it didn't matter because–
"Hyung and I had a talk. He gave me the key," Jungkook said, dangling it. 
"Hahaha, why would be do that?" you laughed nervously, still crab-walking backwards because maybe if you just fused with the wall then you were be spared from those penetrating dark brown eyes.
Jungkook stepped into the apartment, following you. “I was surprised too.” He smiled somewhat apologetically. “I guess he overheard me telling Taehyung that I would totally fuck you if you weren’t hyung’s girlfriend.”
You blinked rapidly. “P-pardon?”
Jungkook held up his hands. Oh dear. His pretty, large hands that reminded you of Yoongi’s, but his right hand was tattooed. “But I wasn’t going to do anything though. Promise.” His eyes shifted upwards and then he looked back at you, his rueful expression turning into one of slyness. Shit. “Well, until Yoongi-hyung asked me to, that is.”
You stumbled in the doorframe of the bedroom. To be honest, you kept backing up because Jungkook advancing on you was making you uneasy, hot, and bothered. With emphasis on the latter two. You still couldn’t believe Yoongi would do this to you. This was Yoongi! Mild-mannered, sweetie with swagger, SUGA of BTS!
Then you had a thought.
You were always very good at teasing Yoongi. Either to annoy him or sexually in public situations. You could imagine Yoongi’s smirking face now. Knowing he got the one-up on you. Knowing he’d finally shocked you.
You’re not allowed to refuse.
The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. A hot shiver went up your spine. Jungkook was right in front of you. Black parka, black jeans. Jungkook unzipped the parka, shrugging out of it. Black dress shirt. You knew Jungkook did not like wearing button-ups. Why was he wearing it? He unbuttoned the first one, revealing his collarbone. Then the second one. Open-mouthed smirk completed with his tongue between his teeth, dark eyes on your shaking form.
The maknae was going to fucking striptease you?
You held a hand up. “Hold on a second.”
Jungkook’s fingertips paused above the next button.
“You’re doing this… for fun?”
Jungkook tilted his head. “No. Not really for fun.” His voice was low, deep. His eyes trailed down your body, then back up to your face, lingering all over you. You swallowed. “I’m doing this because this is the only chance I’ll get.”
“What if I say no?”
Jungkook lowered his hand. “Hyung said you weren’t allowed to refuse.” His voice was softer now, almost pouting. Ouch. It actually pained you. You wanted to give in to him just like that. You loved Yoongi with all your heart, but the maknae’s charms definitely worked on you. They worked on everyone. Everyone loved Jungkook and wanted to give him everything.
“Jungkook,” you breathed, trying to reorient yourself, trying to find the right words. “I’m not saying I’m not interested. I definitely am.” He observed you carefully as you groped for the right words. “But this is a little crazy. And… you could get anyone.”
“I couldn’t get you.”
You slowly, slowly made eye contact with him. Jungkook took a step towards you. You didn’t move, transfixed by his chocolate eyes.
“The way you slowly fell in love with Yoongi-hyung,” he whispered, getting closer and closer. “You didn’t even notice. You still don’t notice. The way I stare at you, you and the beautiful shape of your eyes.” His finger came up and traced your eyes, rooting you in place. “Your cute nose. The shape of your lips.” His fingertip brushed against your lower lip. “So full. I watch you kiss him, wishing it was me.” He caressed your cheek. “The dimples that appear when you smile. So cruel.”
Jungkook’s breathing shallowed. His eyes flickered downwards to your hands, still clutching your phone. He reached for it and took it from you. Threw it onto the bed. Then his hands wrapped around yours, clutching them tight. You stopped breathing. Jungkook’s voice dropped several octaves.
“I watch your hands. Touching him, resting on his thigh, tracing up, palming him right in front of us.”
“I didn’t… think anyone would notice.”
Jungkook leaned in even more, still holding your hands tightly, as if they were going to disappear. You could smell his clean scent, like fresh laundry.
“I always notice,” he murmured. “Whenever you’re there, I can’t help but have my eyes on you. I couldn’t touch, but I could look. I thought that was all I could have.”
Jungkook let go of you. Hand dancing up your neck, cupping your cheek. Tilted his head, eyelashes lowering. Breath against your lips. Eyes pleading you, waiting for the heartbreak.
“Please let me kiss you.”
You’re not allowed to refuse.
You pressed your lips against Jungkook’s, eyes closing. It was impossible to say no. He was sweet and soft. You could feel his nerves and his fear in his kiss, not trying to ask for more, not wanting to ask for too much. It was you who hooked an arm around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Right, wrong? That didn’t matter right now. The only thing you cared about right now was taking Jungkook’s fear away.
You pulled him onto the bed, arms around his neck, mumbling his name against his lips. His breathing hitched, hands circling your waist, holding onto you.
“Noona…”
“Call me by name, Jungkook.”
He gulped, shaking his head. “I can’t.” He gnawed on his lip anxiously. You smiled, and took his hands, placing them by the buttons of his shirt.
“Weren’t you in the middle of giving me a show?” you teased. “You’re great at putting on a show.”
Jungkook’s lips curved into a smile. “Oh yeah?”
You settled down into the bed, looking up at him from in between his thighs. You could tell Jungkook was still nervous, but there was something else too. His mischief was creeping back into his sparkling eyes. You cocked an eyebrow, smirking. He undid another button. And another. Carefully, playfully pulling the fabric apart, revealing a little of his skin at a time.
“Hyung told me you like staring at my pictures.”
You shrugged, licking your lips. “They’re nice photos.”
“Were you satisfied by just looking at pictures?” he purred, already reaching lower, lower. You could see the contours of his muscular torso, the top of his abs. Ugh, Jungkook was so attractive. Scratch that, so fucking hot. He reached the bottom of his shirt and placed two fingers under your chin, pushing it back up to his face.
“My eyes are up here.”
His fingers under your chin made you realize how hard you were breathing.
“Jungkook.”
He tilted his head at you, long hair covering part of his face.
Yoongi’s words came back to you. My woman gets to satisfy her little crush. At the time, you thought those words were referring to your crush in Jungkook. But perhaps it was the other way around. Maybe Yoongi was referring to you satisfying Jungkook.
“Don’t hold back.”
And then you got up from the bed, grabbing the collar of his dress shirt and yanking them down Jungkook’s shoulders, kissing him again, but harder this time, tongue sliding into his mouth and thrusting into it, taking his breath away. Jungkook’s eyes went wide, gasping against your tongue, struggling to get out of his sleeves before he scrambled for the buttons on your shirt, moaning as you sucked on his tongue, gripping his upper arms.
“N-noona…”
“Call me by name or nothing at all,” you growled dangerously.
His dark eyes bored into you, daring you. You nipped at his lower lip, grinning.
“You think you’re the only one who’s horny here?”
Your hands danced around his arms, reaching around him, and your nails scratched him down his broad back, hissing as he moaned, tipping his head back, Adam’s apple shaking. Fuck, it felt so good. It felt so fucking good to drag your nails down that back, seeing Jungkook lose some control, falling more and more into the moment. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him, shuddering as his hard body was pressed against you and your half-open shirt.
“I want it all,” you breathed. “I’m so greedy, but I want it all, Jungkook. Give it to me.” Voice dropping, inhaling his delicious scent. “Please.”
He growled deep in his chest and grabbed the bottom of your shirt, yanking up and revealing your bra clasp, undoing it easily. Pushed you back, swiftly pulling your shirt and bra off together, tossing it aside to the floor.
“Fuck, your tits are as pretty as I thought they would be.”
And then Jungkook’s mouth was on you, furiously kissing down your neck, licking your collarbones, biting your shoulder, his hands roughly squeezing your breasts. You moaned, your nipples pressed against his thumbs, pinching them against the side of his hand. His lips travelled down, down and then they latched around your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. Your hands flew up into his hair, gripping it tightly.
“Fuck, they even taste good,” he whined. “You taste so fucking good.”
Your back arched as he began to suck, running your hands through his hair, whimpering his name, telling him how good he was, how nice it felt, lost in the feeling of his tongue and his strong arms around your waist. He switched to the other nipple, saliva dripping. Licking it all over and then breathing on it with his hot breath. Your entire body trembled in his arms from the sensation.
“I’m drooling; that’s how fucking good you taste,” Jungkook mumbled, sucking hard and tight, dark eyes on you as you cried out softly, holding onto his head. Your fingers curled into his long locks, grasping them tightly. He raised his eyebrow, but you began to rock back and forth into his mouth, tugging your nipple with his lips. Jungkook’s fingers dug into you, erotic groans vibrating in his throat as you fucked his face with your tits.
Wetness soaked your panties, the scent of your sex getting stronger and stronger.
Jungkook removed his lips, sucking in a tight breath. Your name slid out of his mouth in a tight hiss, no honorifics. You felt your pussy throb hearing your name come from his lips, saturated with desire. You grinned.
“Took you long enough, Jungkookie.”
He chuckled, grabbing your hips and shoving them up into his jean-covered crotch. You gasped. You could feel his erection straining against the thick fabric, grinding against your soaked panties. Fuck, you couldn’t stop staring at Jungkook, him and his sharp jawline and his beautiful eyes and his playful smirk on his damn lips, infuriating and arousing you.
“You’re so fucking irresistible,” you whispered, rolling your hips into him hard. It was his turn to gasp, his turn to shudder at your movements. The way you could turn him from smug confidence to those submissive doe eyes was turning you on way too much.
You wanted to ruin him and be ruined by him.
You grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him onto the bed. He yelped as you slid down, nails racking down his torso, whimpering in your wake. The front of his jeans was wet with your juices. You undid the button, zipping them down.
“How are you going to explain this?” you smirked, gesturing down to the giant wet sport at the front of his pants.
“They’re black,” Jungkook panted. “It’ll be fine.”
You laughed, pulling them down his legs. Jungkook’s hand flew down, reaching into his back pocket, pulling out a condom. You tilted your head.
“Only one?”
He looked down at you, startled. “W-well… I don’t know if you want more….”
You raised an eyebrow and reached over to the nightstand, opening it and taking out the whole damn box.
“Er… I cannot cum that many times. In one sitting, anyway.”
“Ah, well, let’s just see then.”
You peeled his jeans and boxer briefs off, licking your lips as your hungry eyes landed on his cock. Half-hard, pre-cum glistening at the tip. Jungkook swallowed nervously, but you crawled on top of him, immediately licking a fat stripe down his entire length. You moaned with him, feeling the blood rushing to his cock, pulsing against your lips. You hadn’t had sex in a while, trying not to tempt Yoongi or aggravate his injury. His recovery was too important to not only you, but the nation and the world. So, you kept your need to yourself, but now Jungkook’s cock was right on front of you.
And there was nothing to stop you.
You pressed your lips against his balls, licking them all over, playing with them with your tongue. Jungkook groaned above you, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as you began to suck on them, bobbing your head up and down. He was panting your name breathlessly, helpless as you pulled your head back, his balls slowly slipping out from between your lips.
You kissed up his length, tongue swirling around the head before taking him in, all the way, softly but firmly. If there was anything Yoongi’s tongue technology taught you, it was how to apply his technique to giving head, much to his surprise. You were good at extrapolation. You pressed the head into the roof of your mouth, raking it all the way to the upper part of your throat and tightening. Jungkook gasped, eyelids fluttering as your tongue assaulted the bottom of his cock, from the bottom of the head to the base.
You heard something between the lines of, “Holy fuck”, “What the hell”, and “Oh my fucking God.”
You retreated for a second, wrapped your tongue all the way around the head and teased the thin skin right where the head and length connected, repeatedly rubbing your lips over it before going all the way down again.
Now Jungkook was absolutely incomprehensible as you began to suck him off, fast and tight, lips soft compared to the vacuum of your mouth. Was it unfair? Yes, it was, giving him soft and hard, rough and wet, scraping the head against the back of your throat and choking it with your muscles. Jungkook was whimpering and cursing, his thighs flexing under you, tasting so fucking good that you were dripping between your own thighs.
You didn’t stop.
Faster and faster, holding his hips down, watching Jungkook unravel under you, hands in his long hair and slamming his head back into the pillows, covering his mouth as he screamed your name into his palm. You felt his cock spurt his cum into the back of your throat, your muscles constricting as you drank him up, your moans added vibration along his length.
The first orgasm was always the most and tasted the best. So much, coating the entire inside of your mouth, your tongue swiping around his cock to collect it all. You lapped it all up, encouraging his cock to get hard again. Smirking as you succeeded, popping your mouth off gently.
“What position do you want me in, Jungkook?” you murmured, throat a little hoarse, taking the condom and opening it, rolling it onto his cock.
He moved his palm from his mouth, panting hard, hair all over his face. His intense brown eyes locked with yours and you knew the dynamic was switched.
“On your back. Want to watch your face when I fuck you.”
You could relent, rolling onto your back, removing your soaked panties, chest heaving in anticipation as Jungkook got up, towering over you. His hands gripped your hips, adjusting you to the correct angle. You could play the other part, with one small caveat. His eyes found yours, glaring at you.
“Wipe that smirk off your face.”
“Make me.”
Jungkook thrust into you, hard, and you kept the smirk on your face as he forcefully stretched you out, pushing your limits.
“Hurts?” he taunted.
You licked your lips. “It’s not good unless it hurts.”
The slight irritation that flashed in his eyes spurred you on. You tightened around his cock, exhaling with a hiss. Fitting him to you, bringing out the dominance in him. Jungkook gritted his teeth and slammed his hips into yours. You had the audacity to chuckle.
“Did you really want me that bad, Jungkook?” you teased. “Or were they only pretty words? Are you a tiger or just a cute little bunny?”
Jungkook snarled low in his chest.
Then he began to fuck you, lifting your legs onto his shoulders and pressing down, smacking your ass with his hips. The position made you tighter, gravity making him pound you harder, forcing you to feel all of him as drove his rock-hard cock into you. Your hands flew up, one pressed against the headboard, the other clutching a pillow for dear life, eyes squeezing shut at the fullness and harshness.
“A-ah, fuck, yes,” you gasped. “So fucking good…”
Jungkook brought his face close to yours, hitting you deeper and just as hard. “Where’s your smirk now? Can’t give me one when you’re being punished by this cock?”
Your heart jerked in your chest at his dirty words, becoming even wetter with the dangerous edge to his voice.
“Listen to you, fucking dripping down my thighs with how wet you are for me,” Jungkook hissed, inhaling sharply as you throbbed hard around him. He groaned, clenching his jaw. “Fuck, I can’t help myself, I just have to fuck you like an animal.”
You snickered dryly, jerking your hips up to meet his. Not saying anything, letting your pussy do the talking because you were so close to orgasm that you roughly massaged his entire length, throwing your head back and moaning as you came around him. The squelching sounds between your connected hips got louder, drenching the air with the scent of sex and lust.
Jungkook sank his teeth into his lower lip, grimacing. “Fucking unfair how good you feel,” he ground out, squeezing his eyes shut, ramming his hips into you, muscles in his arms and shoulders tense. “Can’t even last, fuck.”
He crashed his hips into yours and growled your name in his throat, cock smacking against your walls as he came, swelling the condom full. You whimpered in ecstasy, back arching, clenching around his cock.
“Yes, Jungkook, oh, yeeees…”
It wasn’t enough.
Neither of you had had enough.
Jungkook gripped the end of the condom and pulled out, hissing at the sensitivity as he took it off. You tossed him a spare towel from the nightstand drawer and he cleaned himself, gasping.
“Hands and knees.”
You rolled over, flinging the box of condoms at him, and he caught it, dark eyes glinting.
“Spread that pussy for me.”
You reached back and planted your hands on each ass cheek pulling your wet slit open. Jungkook hissed and you could hear skin on skin of him jacking himself off to get hard again. An idea popped into your head.
You flexed your vaginal muscles, opening and closing your hole for him.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re so damn sexy it’s illegal.”
You heard him get onto his knees. The sound of a condom being ripped open. His groan as he fitted the condom over his aching cock. His strong hands gripped your hips, the head rubbing against your entrance.
“Don’t know how long I can last,” he murmured. “I’m just going to go as hard and as fast as I can.”
“Do it, Jungkook,” you panted. “Make me feel you for days.”
He whimpered at your words and sank into you. Both of you moaning, your hands clutching the sheets, his fingertips bruising your skin, imprints of lust. Jungkook was pure, glorious power that threatened to overtake you, his cock throbbing and digging into your walls as he fucked you hard, muscular thighs slapping into yours. The poor bed could barely take it, but neither of you noticed, lost in the feeling of being filled and doing the filling.
His hand came down on your ass, a sharp, harsh sound that echoed off the walls and made your pussy clench. It barely hurt. You had felt worse before.
“You like that?” he panted.
“Fuck yes I do,” you gasped hotly. “Spank my ass, Jungkook.”
He did, thrusting into you and slapping you repeatedly, making your ass jiggle. You squeezed him each time, now rolling your hips back into him, arching your back as you came with a satisfied sigh. Your skin stung, your pussy was pulsating with abuse, and Jungkook’s cock hit all your deepest spots.
“Fuck, Jungkook, you’re so fucking good at fucking me,” you breathed, feeling him wind you up again.
He couldn’t even reply, only loudly moaning through the convulsions of your pussy radiating up and down his length. Good thing the walls were pretty soundproof, because it was a goddamn porno in the bedroom at the moment. It was obscenely lewd with the wet slapping of his hips into yours.
“So close, so close, squeeze me, fuck, choke my damn dick,” Jungkook rambled in between breaths, hissing as you did as you were told, gripping him every time he slammed into you. He came with a half-scream, half-moan of your name, whining at the sensitivity as you pulsed around him, leaking down his thighs and yours. It smelled so strongly of sex that you weren’t sure how you were supposed to clean this up before Yoongi came home.
Your phone buzzed loudly on the bed.
You grunted, clawing for it as Jungkook remained inside you, softening but refusing to leave your warmth. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your back.
You checked your messages. From Yoongi.
Your gift needs to get his ass to practice before he gets yelled at.
“Jungkook, you’re gonna be late.”
He groaned in annoyance, squeezing you tighter. Another message popped up.
Tell him there’s plenty of time before I fully recover. If he works hard and does a good job, maybe after I recover too.
You poked Jungkook. He lifted his head, pouting, eyes changing to excitement when he read the message.
-
part ii “You’re not allowed to leave until your noona is satisfied.”
--
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kenmaskitten10 · 3 years
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Dilf Deku Headcanons
Midoriya Izuku x GN!Reader
warnings: swearing, NSFW themes (nothing graphic just briefly mentioned),brief mention of bullying/scars, idk this is pretty tame nothing is really described... if u don't like dilfs then don't read this :)
a/n: okay! this is my first time writing/publishing anything on Tumblr so please go easy on me haha... I've had ridiculous Deku brain rot lately and I decided I had to jot a few thoughts down. I'm playing with the idea of turning this into a writing blog, but I am undecided! If anyone wants to thirst for one Izuku Midoriya please come talk to me please anyway without further ado here are some Dilf!Deku hcs.... I'm playing around with doing a NSFW version after this so if you would like to see that let me know!
w/c: 1,498
Okay everyone today I want to talk about Dilf!Izuku
This may be controversial but I personally believe that he has the most Dilf potential out of any of the class 1A boys and no I will not be taking criticism at this time
Sorry but even when he’s younger he has Dilf energy - he’s caring, considerate, takes your feelings into account like a dad he just wants to take care of his baby
oh fuck this man no no no
And listen, here me out on this one….. he has more dilf potential than Bakugo and allow me to tell you why
We can all agree that Bakugo has been confident his entire life, so of course he’s going to be confident when he’s older?? duh
But IZUKU is a different story altogether, he’s never felt confident in his life
His whole childhood he was looked down on for being quirkless, and bullied by someone he thought was his friend kachaan
THEN he got a quirk but oh every time he uses it it breaks all his fucking bones and leaves him with all these scars, and he appreciates them because of what they represent but also he’s young when he gets them, he’s already prone to insecurity and when he’s younger ESPECIALLY i think they just remind him of previous failures
He only started to gain a little bit of confidence in his UA days, but it takes time to rebuild yourself after you’ve been torn down for so long, so I honestly imagine he doesn’t even feel an inkling of confidence until his third year or later and even then, it’s new, it’s unfamiliar, he doesn’t totally know how to act
Because yes, by his third year, he’s starting to realize, oh wow okay, I have an incredible quirk and all these new abilities that I can control better, and wow people are paying attention for good reasons , because he’s tall and attractive, probably cuts his hair undercut Izuku supremacy and he’s made some solid friends who help boost his confidence too
But despite all this, deep down he still feels like that quirkless little kid who has to work three times as hard as anyone else and still doesn’t get the recognition he deserves
But OH BOY
DILF IZUKU??? This man is dripping with confidence
he’s older now. he’s overcome a lot. he’s gone to therapy, and worked his way through the pro hero ranks until he earned his number one spot fair and square, that’s something no one can take away from him
He’s loaded now (see below because I go on a whole tangent), he has nice tasteful style that can only come with age and experience
He knows he’s hot now, because its simply no longer something that can be denied, anyone with eyes can see how attractive he is
If he catches you staring at him, he doesn’t shy away. His cheeks might tint slightly, but he stares right back with the biggest smirk on his face. “See something you like, angel?”
Probably finds reasons to show off slightly but he’s Dilf!Izuku so it’s subtle, it’s meant just for you and god does it drive you crazy
The way he’ll reach for and grab at things when he’s around you because he knows you like his hands (he wants to hold your bags and please let him he just wants to feel needed)
They way he stands behind you while you cook, or work, or read…. He sees you sitting or standing so peacefully and he’ll come up behind you to check out what it is you’re doing. He’ll lean down slowly, quietly, stopping when his breath is on your neck and your nose is filled with his scent, and take a quick peek at whatever it is you’re working on. It takes you a moment to turn around, your heart starting to beat faster in your chest due to his looming presence behind you (I DON’T KNOW WHY THIS IS HOT TO ME IT JUST IS OKAY). When you finally turn to face him, his face breaks into a small smile of victory as his strong hand catches your jaw in a gentle grip and he places an achingly soft kiss to your lips before saying “You look so cute when you’re concentrating,”. As you’re about to go in for another, he lets you go and stands up again, his eyes twinkling. “No no, you’re working so hard baby, don’t let me distract you,” WHEN ALL HE WANTED WAS TO DISTRACT YOU and he succeeded and now you’re all hot and bothered, with no hope of resuming what you were doing
Dilf Deku is a tease I know he is but it’s okay he’ll make it up to you later ;)
He’s got shorter, slightly more cropped hair with grey mixed in with the green, his face more lean and angular… not to mention years of pro hero work have toned his body into an absolute work of art I’m gonna pass out just thinking about it
Freckles splashed across his skin like hundreds of little constellations, accented by scars and marks from old wounds (which he’s come to appreciate - they show how hard he’s worked, how much he’s sacrificed to get to where he is now) he’s muscular but I don’t think he’s quite as big as All Might (his fighting style is a lot different so of course he would build muscle in different places) so this means LEGS LEGS LEGS
LEG MUSCLES FOR DAYS
THICK FUCKING THIGHS oh my god
And holy shit his back muscles too WHEW sometimes in the morning when he gets up before you, you watch him sit on the edge of the bed and flex his shoulders and arms to stretch out in the hazy morning light and Jesus Christ
Dilf Deku is older now, he’s spent his entire life working himself too hard and he missed out on a lot of the fun, impulsive, chaotic things young people do, so I think he wants to let loose a little in his older age, have some fun for once
And what’s more perfect than sweet, youthful, tantalizing little you to indulge in ?
He’s so doting, just wants to make you feel special and cared for
And on that note, if you will indulge me for a moment
he’s fucking RICH like
He’s the number one pro hero, he has brand deals on brand deals on brand deals
And I don’t mean to slander All Might and Endeavor, but in terms of a hot, fuckable number one pro hero, Deku has them beat by a landslide so I imagine he has a wider range of brand deals too, because he can sell the sex appeal angle
I mean can you imagine him in interviews? Interacting with fans? Confident yes, but still soft spoken and kind, almost gentle but anyone can tell he’s completely in control, of himself, of the interview, of the audience, this man has the entire country world wrapped around his little finger
All this to say he’s DRIPPING WITH MONEY
he’s like the guy that overtips an OBSCENE amount like if the waiter is really nice he’ll tip like $300 dollars and won’t even blink (I know they don’t tip at restaurants in Japan but this is more for vibes yk)
sugar daddy deku isn’t a stretch it’s a REALITY
Y’all can be officially together or not, either way Deku loves to spoil his precious little y/n
All you have to do is smile sweetly and ask, and he’s absolute putty in your hands
Complies with even the most egregious of your demands, because hey, he has the money to spare, and how could he say no when you look so cute asking so politely?
GOOD TASTE too like he has a lot of money but he knows how to spend it 😏
Additionally he’s, ya know, him, so he’s insanely charitable and donates to charities, go fund me, personal Venmo accounts of fans that need it
if a fan has like a go fund me for some reason that catches his eye, he’s going to donate and he’s going to donate a lot (A LOT)
he doesn’t even do it for the press, he does it bc he’s a good person but my GOD the press eats it up and so do the fans
These hc’s are so self indulgent but all this to say
Dilf!Deku gets what he wants when he wants it and no one is standing in his way
So when he decides it’s you he wants? Well then it’s you he’s going to get!
592 notes · View notes
kageruna · 3 years
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☆.。.:* Kageyama, Sugawara, Kuroo, and Bokuto with a clingy and affectionate s/o .。.:*☆
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Warnings: None!
Genre: Fluff
Reader: Gender neutral
A/n: This is my first post that’s like this so sorry if this turns out bad! I’m still new to the writing platform so I hope I’ll be able to learn about it more the more I’m here! There is a cursed amount of pleading emojis and i can already tell that that’s gonna be a theme in my fics so sorry in advance if emojis make you frustrated or uncomfortable <3
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Kageyama Tobio
➷ is a very flustered bb boy!!!
➷ at first he doesn’t know what to do and just freezes and shoves you off of him without thinking it through (he quickly regrets it but he freezes even further and doesn’t know what to do ksjdnfi)
➷ you might be a little bit shocked and bummed out and it’s ok to feel that way!!! you want attention from your gorgeous boyfriend after all 😤
➷ however he’s also trying his best!!! he hasn’t had this much physical affection before so it’ll take some getting used to!! he’ll try extremely hard to overcome it soon and give you the love and attention you deserve tho!! awwww what a sweet bb
➷ he’ll DEFINITELY still be prickly sometimes even later on into the relationship and not be 100% comfortable unless you’ve been in the relationship for a long time
➷ he still gives you the hugs and cuddles and lets you be clingy but especially if it’s in public, he won’t immediately melt into your embrace or indulge you 100% :(
➷ he’ll let you cling onto his arm whenever you guys are walking around or doing anything together but he’s desperately trying to hide his embarrassment with a scowl and bright red cheeks and ears 🥺🥺🥺
➷ he’ll give you little hugs of reassurances and maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll get little kisses on the head in public but he’ll still be extremely flushed 😭😭
➷ he’s even more open in private tho 🥺
➷ he’ll rather die than have his teammates see him being extremely mushy and lovey-dovey with you so he’ll save those really cute moments for when you guys are together alone <3
➷ further into the relationship he’ll open up and will be a lot more comfortable with you!! he’ll be less reserved and indulge you even more in public ❤️
➷ when he gets more comfortable in the relationship, he’ll even start being clingy too and it’s the most adorable thing ever because even though he still wants to cuddle or hug you spontaneously he’ll be quiet about it and have the cutest little blush on his face and a little pout 🥺
➷ it’ll be really really obvious that he wants attention even if he’s trying to be secretive about it so please indulge him 
➷ he wants little kithes and huggies too 😤😤
➷ you guys are such a cute couple, people either look at you while cooing or with a look of exasperation because it’s THAT obvious that you guys are madly in love with each other <333
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Sugawara Koushi
➷ he will be clingy RIGHT BACK AT YOU
➷ even if you guys are just starting your relationship, if you’re already so comfortable with him and are able to be your true clingy self with him then he’s totally gonna be his own clingy self too because the openness makes him so extremely happy!!
➷ it reassures him that you really do want to be with him and are willing to be vulnerable around him awwwwww 🥺
➷ once you guys are hugging or cuddling, it’s over. you guys will be stuck like glue until you physically can’t be with each other anymore KSJFIU
➷ he pouts when you guys have to stop being with each other 😭
➷ if he could, he would just hug you for all of eternity
➷ he loves you THAT much
➷ he LOVES pda as well 🥺
➷ he won’t care if he’s inside his room, in the middle of a crowded area, in school, wherever
➷ he can and WILL hug you and be just as clingy as you with him
➷ honestly a match made in heaven
➷ even later on in the relationship, you guys never change
➷ you both will still be just as clingy as the beginning of it and it’s honestly so cute 🥺🥺
➷ of course, this is suga though so he’s gonna be chaotic at some points
➷ he’ll tickle you, blow raspberries onto your skin, shift around a lot just to slightly annoy you, and other things that that playful brain of his thinks up of
➷ sometimes you just want to cuddle without any distraction but lo and behold, he’s gonna still tease you
➷ however, if you genuinely need a cuddle session without any distractions, he’ll totally give you the cuddle session you want
➷ because he’s such a tease sometimes, you decide to get your own revenge sometimes >:)
➷ you’ll act all innocent and he’ll come to you wanting hugs and cuddles but at the last possible second, you’ll move out of the way so that he stumbles into the couch or sofa or wherever you have your cuddle session
➷ his reaction is priceless
➷ anyways you guys are INSEPARABLE when you start hugging and cuddling and honestly people look at you guys with such genuine envy in their eyes because they wish they could be in such a cute relationship like yours 😌
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Kuroo Tetsurou
➷ he teases you SO MUCH
➷ it’s honestly insufferable at some points KSJDNFI
➷ like you just want to be clingy and affectionate with your boyfriend that’s IT!! 😤😤😤 why can’t you just hug him peacefully like you want to?? 😭😭
➷ even with all of the teasing tho, he loves it 🥺🥺
➷ in public you’ll always be really close to him no matter what and even though he teases you for “not wanting to get lost and needing a guardian with you” and other bs like that, he has such a sappy smile on his face he’s barely older or even YOUNGER than you in the first place stop acting like as if your s/o is a child kuroo 😡
➷ yes he might tease you like there’s no tomorrow but he secretly enjoys how clingy you are
➷ you notice and are fully aware of it and try SO HARD for him to admit it but his teasing self just simply can not
➷ he will though when you’re having a really slow day and are actually cuddling without him being annoying teasing
➷ those moments make you SWOON oh my god 😩
➷ he also becomes super affectionate and it’s the CUTEST THING EVER
➷ you cup each other’s face and give each other little kisses all over and hug each other until you have to let go 🥺🥺🥺
➷ sometimes he even becomes the clingier one and you pull away from him and tease him back just to get back at him for all he’s done to you 😈
➷ he’ll pout and beg you until you give. he will literally NOT stop begging until he gets what he wants he’s so spoiled
➷ one time you tried to resist for 30 minutes but LITERALLY THE WHOLE 30 MINUTES HE WAS WHINING FOR YOU TO COME BACK AND CUDDLE WITH HIM
➷ he’s so whiny and spoiled when he gets like that but he’s your whiny and spoiled baby ❤️
➷ people always laugh because of your relationship but they all know that it’s all sickly lovey-dovey friendly banter between you guys <333 they WISH they can have a relationship as fun and loving as yours 😼
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Bokuto Koutarou
➷ HE ADORES IT
➷ god he LOVES how clingy you are
➷ he will be TWICE as clingy as you no joke
➷ usually it’s the other party needing you to get off of them but with Bokuto, it’s the other way around 
➷ he’s so so happy that you’re just as physically affectionate and that you want to be with him just as much as he wants to be with you 🥺🥺🥺
➷ he almost never gets into emo modes when you’re with him 
➷ i mean why would he go emo if the literal light of his life is right there next to him???
➷ exactly
➷ like suga, he does NOT care where you guys are. you both will be extremely clingy and affectionate wherever with little to no regard of the people around you guys
➷ he wants you to know that you’re his number 1 so he’ll keep his attention on you all the time 😭🥺
➷ of course you do the same for him because he’s literally the sweetest person you’ll ever meet how would you NOT always keep your attention on him??
➷ you guys also peck each other’s lips whenever you meet it’s SO CUTE
➷ your cuddle sessions are the sweetest thing ever oh my GOD my heart is literally hurting so much and i’m almost tearing up i want to cuddle with him SO BADLY 🥺
➷ he has the most secure, loving arms and when he wraps them around you with all the love he can possibly give, you practically melt
➷ he basically does the same whenever you wrap your arms around him too 🥺🥺 he’ll literally be smiling like such a dork you can only watch in complete awe at this beautiful man
➷ all of that love is just for you and you alone and you don’t know just how lucky you got
➷ and he’s the exact same with you
➷ everyone wishes for the type of relationship you have with bokuto <333 it’s literally perfect, you guys love each other so much words can not even describe it ❤️
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading ♡
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dreamingofaizawa · 4 years
Text
Guys My Age
Title and concept inspo: Guys My Age by Hey Violet
Soft Dom! Aizawa Shouta x Medium-sized Fem! Reader
Quirkless AU
***18+ Fic***
You must be at least 18 years old to participate in this reading. If you are under the age of 18 please step out of line and find another fic. Thank you and have a good day.
Warnings: Age gap, praise kink, DD/LG dynamic and terms, use of the words daddy and sir, light bondage, overstimulation, smut. 
Word Count: 4.1k
Author’s Note: I KNOW, I know, I write a lot of Aizawa fics, and they’re all DD/LG stuff. I know, okay? It’s an obsession, I’m in love with this man. Anyway, another soft dom Aizawa, but reader isn’t very well-versed in intimacy. Also, reader is what some would call medium-sized. Not necessarily big, but definitely not small. This is for all my medium-sized girls, including myself. I was very self-indulgent with this one.
Part 2
Enjoy~
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You’d always been told you were mature for your age. It wasn’t until recently you realized how true that statement might be. You’re currently 21. And very, very single. You’ve had a total of six different relationships, and all of them fell through for one very simple reason. The boys you dated were just that. Boys. They were extremely immature. Only ever wanting to ‘hang with the boys’ or stay at home. No effort was put into the relationship on their part after the first few weeks. You didn’t understand why these vastly different boys were all so adamant on staying inside.
You’d tried desperately to get them to go out on dates with you. You offered to pay, and drive, and literally anything else. But no, they were too busy playing video games or getting higher than the damn sky. Don’t even start thinking about sex. You hadn’t got any of that shit since your first ‘boyfriend’ at 17, who used you like a sex doll and broke it off once he found someone hotter and sexier and altogether better in his eyes. You were sick of it. So you did the last thing you’d ever want to do. You went on a blind date.
You’d stumbled on a website last week that allowed you to set up a blind date with a stranger. It seemed legit, and had background checks on all participants. It also allowed you to put in any preferences you had, and matched you with someone that had similar preferences and hobbies. The age range you put in? 30-35 years old. Because guys your age just didn’t cut it. You needed someone more mature, someone who could treat you like a woman, not some girl.
Today, almost a week after matching with someone, you were standing outside an italian restaurant. You didn’t know his face, just his name and age, and that he was a teacher. Aizawa Shouta, 31 years old. And he’d sent a single message when you matched.
Meet me at this location on Saturday. When you enter, I’ll be at the back corner table. Semi-formal. 8 pm, please don’t be late.
It was blunt and straightforward. You liked it. You just hoped he wasn’t quite this blunt in person. You’d put on a black knee-length cocktail dress with a halter top and a partially open back that fell to the small of your back. It accentuated your shoulders and the top half of your torso before fanning out at your waist, the silky material falling and swaying around you. 
You slipped on simple white heels and silver jewelry, with a white clutch purse. You’d decided to pull your hair into a loose half-up half-down, a silver comb pinning your hair in place, minimal makeup and clear lip gloss. For the first time in a while you felt pretty. You knew you weren’t exactly small, but the way you were dressed gave you confidence.
You looked at your watch. 7:55 pm. You took a deep breath, straightened out your dress, and stepped into the restaurant. The host asked if you had a reservation, and you told him you were meeting someone who already arrived. He let you pass, and you walked back to the table Aizawa told you to meet at. He had his back to you as you approached, but you could see his broad shoulders and muscular frame easily. 
He wore a white long-sleeve button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black vest fitted to his form. His slacks were also fitted, showing off his muscular thighs. His long raven hair was pulled in a half-up half-down similar to yours. You hadn’t even seen his face yet and he looked delicious.
Your heels clacked on the wood flooring, and as you neared the booth he turned to look at you. You stopped next to the table and got a good look at the stranger. He was beautiful. His dark bloodshot eyes looked tired, the bags underneath giving him away and only adding to his appeal, and a scar curved under his right eye. A sharp jawline, with a tamed scruff, and thin lips in a neutral expression. You were about to introduce yourself, but he stood from the booth and held his hand out, palm up. “You must be (y/l/n) (y/n).” You smiled at the gesture, and placed your hand in his. “That’s me. And you are Aizawa Shouta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He pulled your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles, before leading you to your seat.
As he sat down, you noticed a bottle of wine sitting in the center of the table in a bucket of ice, and two glasses of wine halfway full. One sat in front of you, and the other in front of Aizawa. He began the conversation with a rather specific question. “So, (y/l/n), why are you on a dating website looking for men that are so much older than you?” Normally you’d take offense to a question like that, but the way he said it was pure curiosity. So, you answered. “If I’m being honest, it’s actually pretty simple. Guys my age just don’t know how to treat me.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, a barely noticeable smirk tugging at his lips. “And how do you want to be treated?” You smiled a little at the implications behind the question, and answered. “I don’t want to be stuck in my room while my ‘boyfriend’ plays video games and smokes weed. I don’t want to be ‘one of the boys’, and I don’t want to have to plead and beg to go on a date or spend time with him. I want to be treated like a woman, not a girl. And I want to spend my time with a man, not waste it on a boy.” 
At that, Aizawa smirked and sipped at his wine. You both took a quick look at the menu and ordered when the waiter came. As you ate, you talked about random subjects and hit it off quite well. The date went by quickly, and at the end of the night you’d exchanged numbers. “I look forward to another date with you, Ms. (y/l/n).” “The feeling is mutual, Mr. Aizawa.” 
When you got back home, you undressed and cleaned your face and got into bed. As you lay there, your mind drifted back to the date, and how undeniably handsome Aizawa is. The way he spoke to you like you were his equal, and looking at you like an ancient treasure. He was everything you wanted, without even considering anything sexual. Little did you know he felt much the same way.
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When the date ended he texted Hizashi to let him know he was free. Hizashi, of course, called him immediately, and began drilling him about the date. “How’d it go Sho? Was it a rando with a thing for older guys? Did she want a sugar daddy?” Shouta rolled his eyes. “No, Zashi, she wasn’t looking for a sugar daddy. She was...actually really mature for a 21 year old. She knows what she wants. I admire that a little. And I won’t lie, she’s quite beautiful. Not the generic, model, beauty-pageant, barbie doll pretty. It’s a natural glow she has. It’s...quite mesmerizing...”
Hizashi exploded on the other side, laughing at the new infatuation his friend had for a blind date. “I hope she’s your type, Sho. I mean physically. I know how much you like them with a little meat on their bones.” Aizawa groaned at his comment. He knew he was just teasing, but that his blonde friend was 100% right. He knew he had a type, and he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t looked at your full figure quite frequently. 
He’d taken in your dress, how it showed off your shoulders and back. As you climbed into your car and took off your heels, he trailed his eyes up your legs, getting a small glimpse at your thick thighs. When you sat up behind the wheel, he revelled in the small rolls showing through your dress, wanting nothing more than to squeeze them and kiss them and bite them...
He shook away the thoughts that were threatening to take over his mind. “Shut it Hizashi. Her body is none of my concern, and is most definitely none of yours. I enjoyed the date and that’s what matters.” The loud blonde gasped dramatically, “Oh my god she totally is! Damn you go get some Sho!” Aizawa just ended the call.
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The next date was planned once again by Aizawa, and it was only a week after the first. It was a simple coffee date at a small cafe. You talked casually about the things you enjoyed doing. You convinced him to let you take care of the next date, which you decided would be a relaxed ramen date. You’d gotten comfortable around each other, and after about six more dates, he invited you over to his place for dinner. Of course, you accepted.
He’d sent you the address and apartment number, and you stood outside his door in dark jeans, black flats, and a beige sweater with a white tank top underneath. You knocked on the door, and when it opened he greeted you with a peck on the cheek. It had become a normal greeting, since you’d gotten so close, though the gesture always made you a little shy. He told you to get comfortable as he finished up dinner, and you sat at the kitchen table and admired him as he worked in the kitchen. He wore fitted blue denim jeans, and a black cotton t-shirt, his hair pulled up in a bun. 
No matter how many times you looked at him, he was always just as shockingly handsome as the first time you saw him. His t-shirt left his toned arms exposed, and it was fitted to his torso, showing off his muscular frame. Your eyes traced the outline of his muscles from his shoulder, down his arm, drifting to his hips and up his back. You didn’t notice him glance back and smirk at you. “Like what you see kitty cat?” Heat rushed to your face at the realization that you’d been staring, and the fact that he’d noticed. And that name… “K-kitty?” you barely whispered, before quickly apologizing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”
You didn’t think he heard the first part. You were wrong. “It’s alright. And yes, kitty. Don’t like the pet name?” Your face burned at the tone of his voice. “N-no, the name’s fine, you just...caught me off guard.” He chuckled. “I should do it more often. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You didn’t think your face could get any hotter, but it did. You tilted your head down and away from him and bit your lip, letting your hair fall to hide your face. You’d never gotten this kind of attention before, and you had no idea how to handle it.
You were too busy trying to calm your breathing to hear him approach you. The proximity and demanding tone of his voice made you jump a little. “Look at me, kitten.” You swallowed and took a breath before turning your head to him, and he hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to sit up taller. He moved even closer, your shoulder brushing against his abdomen, and you nearly had to look straight up to look in his eyes. 
Your eyes began to drift away from his, and he jerked your chin up higher, silently commanding you not to look away. You brought your eyes back to his and held his gaze, and after a few moments he smirked. The hand under your chin moved to stroke your cheek with his knuckles. “Good girl.”
He quickly dropped his hand and went back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. It took you a few seconds to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You panted a little, trying to calm yourself from what just happened, and clasped your shaking hands together. But they weren’t shaking from fear. In fact, you couldn’t quite tell why you were so shaky and out of breath. And the praise from him sent a shiver down your spine.
He managed to distract you while you ate, and you had completely recovered from whatever that was earlier. After dinner you moved into the living room and relaxed on the couch while you talked some more. Soon he’d leaned his head back and closed his eyes, still talking and listening, but clearly relaxed. Once again you found yourself distracted by his body, following the muscles in his neck down to his toned chest and abdomen. And again, he noticed. “I can feel your eyes on me, kitten.” His voice was low, a rumble of smooth baritone. You found yourself turning away to hide your face again, and the command in his voice controlled you with ease. 
“Don’t look away from me, kitten.” You turned back to him, and when your eyes met his, you looked away, and he let out a low growl and your eyes snapped back to him. He adjusted and sat up, your eyes still fixed on each other. He pat his leg, “Come here kitty.” You blinked at him, not quite prepared for such a demand. His eyes darkened a little and his voice dropped to a growl, “I won’t ask twice.” 
At that you got up and went to sit on one of his legs, but he pulled his knees together and shook his head. So you climbed over and straddled his legs on your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you so you were fully sitting on his lap, your core dangerously close to his growing bulge.
Your eyes were still locked on his as he leaned close to you, his hands rubbing circles into your hips.  He leaned past your face and whispered into your ear. “Can I touch you kitty?” You took a shaky breath and nodded. He laid a light spank on your ass and you jumped. “Use your words kitty cat.” “Y-yes, you can t-touch me.” He laid a kiss on your neck and whispered ‘good girl’ before moving his hands under your sweater and tank top. He ran his hands up and down your back, and he gripped the fatty flesh of your stomach and hips, kneading it in his palms gently as he worked his way up your body, leaving feather light kisses along your neck and jaw.
The intimacy had you quivering, and the way he nearly worshipped your body had your breaths coming out shaky and heavy. Shouta caught on quickly. “Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t done anything in a while?” he said in your ear. You started to nod, but quickly caught yourself, “Y-yes.” He stilled his movements and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Tell me what you did before this.” You took a breath and explained the situation as simply and quickly as possible.
His arms tensed, clearly upset that you’d been used like that. But he didn’t pry into that right now. “So you haven’t explored anything? Like any preferences you might have?” You shook your head quickly, “N-no...why?” He chuckled. “Well, kitty, you’re quite submissive. If you’d let me, I can help you explore this side of you.” You swallowed and nodded. “Y-yeah, I think I’d like that.” He hummed into your neck, “We can start tonight, but only if you’re comfortable and you want to.” You took a few moments to think about your answer. This man had been nothing but good to you. He treated you with more respect than all the boys you dated had combined. And you trusted him. “I...I’m comfortable starting tonight.”
“Alright kitty. Now, listen to me closely, because this is important, okay?” “Okay, I’m listening.” “Good. Since this is new to you, we need to establish a safeword. Is ‘roses’ alright?” You nod. “Okay. Now if anything ever gets too much for you, if you feel uncomfortable for any reason, if you need to stop for any reason, or if there’s a medical emergency, you need to use it. And that goes for me too. If I don’t like where things are going, I’ll use it. Once we use the safeword, everything will stop right there, no questions asked. Understand?”
“I understand.” “Okay. Can I trust you to use it if you feel the need to?” You nod, “Yes. I’ll use it if I need to.” He kisses your neck, “Good girl.” The praise makes you shudder, and you feel him smile into your neck. “Now, kitty, I want you to address me as either ‘Daddy’, ‘Sir’, or ‘Master’ when we’re like this, do you understand?” “Yes.” He spanks you a little harder. “Yes what?” You jump at the contact “Y-yes Sir.” Another kiss on your neck, “Good girl.” He leans back and taps your arms, “Up.” You lift your arms and he pulls off your sweater and tank top at the same time. 
His hands come back down on your shoulders, and he runs his hands down your chest and stomach, taking the time to remove your bra and knead your breasts. He wraps his arms around you and stands up, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. He puts you down on the bed on your back and takes a rope out of the bedside table. You let him take your hands and tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard. It’s not uncomfortably tight, but a few experimental tugs tell you it’s solid and you won’t be getting out of it unless he unties you.
He trails kisses down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and removing them as he goes. Once your jeans are off, he loops his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off. After that, he leans back and just rakes his eyes up and down your body, eating up every inch of your skin. “You’re such a pretty kitty.” His words have you shuddering and blushing. You’d never been called pretty before, and you knew why. You were a little bigger than other girls. You weren’t necessarily insecure about it. You didn’t care all that much about how people saw you with just your looks alone. But you knew Shouta was admiring your body after knowing who you are as a person, and it made you a little giddy.
His mouth and hands were all over you, squeezing and groping, sucking bruises onto your skin. His touches were sending waves of heat through your body, and pooling between your legs. You desperately wanted him to touch you there, and you whined and rolled your hips up into the air. “Such a needy kitty. Be patient. I’m not done here yet.” He rolled a nipple in between his index and thumb, pulling the other into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. You mewled at the sensation, and he switched his mouth over to the other side.
Your legs were rubbing together, begging for friction, and he finally moved down to your dripping core. He took a finger and slipped it over your folds. He groaned as his finger collected your slick, “You’re so wet kitty. Are you this wet for me?” You nodded your head frantically, and he laid a light smack on your pussy. You let out a soft whimper, “Yes Sir, it’s for you,” you answered quickly. He hummed, “Good girl. I didn’t even need to remind you to use your words.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, and moved to lick a stripe up your folds. You gasped at the new feeling, never having anyone’s mouth down there before.
He slipped the pink muscle into you easily, groaning when he tasted you. The sound sent vibrations through your dripping cunt, making you squirm at the pleasure. He looped his arms around your legs, dipping his fingers into your core and using the slick to rub tight circles onto your clit. An unfamiliar sensation built in the pit of your stomach, your muscles tightening in your abdomen as it got stronger. You knit your eyebrows together, and in between heavy breaths you gasped out, “S-sir...it feels strange.” He raised his eyebrows at the statement, and increased his pace until that coil inside you snapped, which didn’t take very long.
Your back arched off the bed as you let out a loud, sharp moan, your legs shaking from the intensity of your first orgasm. Aizawa kept lapping at your pussy, letting you ride out your high, and once you were relaxed and panting on the bed, he lifted his head and wiped his chin. “Kitty, have you never cum before?” He asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You shake your head, “No S-sir...Is that what just happened?” He chuckled, but didn’t answer the question, “You’re going to have fun tonight kitty.” You didn’t have time to question what he meant, though, because he slipped a thick finger into your core, and you mewled as your walls clenched down on him.
The game he played went on for what felt like hours, and you lost count of how many times he’s made you cum. He’d fucked you and cum multiple times himself. You’d already squirted several times, and tears were streaming down your face from the overstimulation. It felt so good, but it was starting to melt your brain and the title of ‘Sir’ drifted to ‘Daddy’ as it went on. All the muscles in your body were burning from flexing so hard, and your wrists were feeling raw from how hard you’d been tugging at your restraints. It felt so, so good...but it was too much. He leaned down close to your face and kissed at the tears, “You’re doing so well babygirl. You got one more for me?” 
You giggled lightly at the praise, your mind fuzzy, unable to form coherent thoughts as he thrust his hips into you. He stilled his movements and caressed your jaw. “How are you feeling, kitten?” Your eyes looked up into his, struggling to stay open. You giggled a little as you answered. “It’s… I f-feel…” You knit your eyebrows together in concentration, searching your brain. “R-roses?”
Everything stopped, and he instantly reached up and tugged off your restraints, and pulled your exhausted body close to his chest. Your breathing got heavier, and your chest got tight, and fresh tears fell down your cheeks. He held you tight, kissing your tears and petting your hair as your cries died down. He held you like that until your breathing was normal again. You slowly opened your eyes, weakly calling out to him, “Daddy?” He kissed your forehead, “I’m right here kitten. Tell me what you need.” You nuzzled your head into his neck and mumbled, “Water. Can I have water?” He wrapped you in a soft blanket and stood up, carrying you with him. “Anything for my kitten.”
He set you on the counter and made a glass of iced water, holding it up to your lips. As you sipped, he rubbed your back and kissed your forehead and neck, and he didn’t stop or move until you had drained the cup. He left it in the sink and picked you up again, taking you to the bathroom and filling the tub with warm water. He turned off the tap, took off your blanket, and carried you into the tub. He washed the both of you, massaging your scalp, and you let out a sound like a pur, which he smiled at.
When he was done, he stood you up and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, dried himself with one, and carried you back to bed. You curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Are you okay (y/n)?” You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, I’m okay. It was just intense.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, “Thank you for using the safeword. You did so well for me kitten, trusting me like that.” You nuzzled into his chest some more, relishing in the heat his body gave. 
You loved the praise he gave you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy in your belly, and it felt so good. Soon you were drifting into a deep sleep, comfortable in Shouta’s arms. This was nice. You’d be happy to let him guide you, let him take care of you like this. One thought drifted through your head as you drifted.
‘Guys my age could never.’
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Pretty Boy Down : Nathan Drake x Reader
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Summary: Nathan's first time getting pegged. 7k words of Femdom magic. I literally made this blog just to post this.
Warning: Explicit. Pegging, rimming, light slapping, light CNC (don't worry, they're just some idiots cornily roleplaying), so self-indulgent that I might spontaneously combust as soon as I post this. Tell my family I loved them.
”…And seriously, don’t be afraid to be rough. Throw me against the wall if you have to. You know I think it’s hot when you do tha—AH! H-hah!” Nathan’s confident tone fizzes and flutters into a tangled string of nervous laughter, the feeling of coarse rope bound around his wrists a foreign feeling, but— he quickly realizes— not an unwelcome one.
The sweet sea breeze coming off the Madagascar coast is a welcome reprieve from the heat of Nathan’s flushed, sun-bitten skin pressed firmly against yours, a kiss of relief from the piping hot shame of your own desire. You had been waiting weeks to have the opportunity to do this with him. For the past 14 days, you, Nate, Sam, and Sully had barely been lucky enough for breathing room apart from each other, let alone actual privacy. And Sully’s 1966 G-21 Goose left much to be desired in terms of romantic atmosphere.
So the absolute second Sully and Sam claimed an engine damage would require them making a short trip to town for parts, you and Nate were already on top of each other.
You had been practicing your knots non-stop the past week, with the whispered promise that you’d get it perfect on the first try when the time finally came around, and you did not disappoint. “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind. Ya wanna be winched, too, cowboy?” But whether you’re flirting with, or threatening, him— you’re not totally sure.
“Oh, hardy har har…” His quip does little to shield his nerves from you. Sharp blue eyes fall to the ground in a sort of half shrug of nonchalant defeat, but you can already tell what he’s really feeling. It had always been so difficult to embarrass Nathan. But seeing him now—his wobbly, unsteady breathing impossible to hide— you realize you had never seen him so… shy. And it doesn’t take you too long to realize you liked it when he was shy.
“Awww,” You sympathetically croon in his ear as you tie the final knot, “No need to be so nervous, kid.” “H-hey!” Nothing turned you on more than toying with Nathan. He was a joker, loose and playful and confident to a fault, and most importantly, was a man who could dish it out, but couldn’t take it. It made him shockingly easy to knock down a peg at the best of times. And you loved to take advantage of it as often as you possibly could.
“Comfortable?” You feel him shudder at your earnest words and gentle touch, a line of featherlight kisses up the nape of his neck. Some sort of temporary mercy. Nathan’s shoulders heave in a grateful sigh, turning and brushing the tip of his nose against your cheek, and your heart suddenly pangs at his impossible closeness. “Of course,” he chuckles breezily. The novelty of something new and exciting and potentially dangerous never wore off for Nathan Drake.
“Then shut up and keep still,” You hiss, electrified with a newfound confidence. Arousal pricks at your arms and dances wickedly up your sleeves. You and Nathan had always loved to roleplay. “...Drake,” you maliciously spit for dramatic effect— to abrupt and certain success.
Nathan’s chest bubbles with an airy, delighted laugh, and suddenly you feel like your heart is too painfully small to hold all the love you have for him. “You fiend! You really think I won’t be able to break out of these things?” He struggles flimsily, with no real heart in his escape-- Nathan has always been one for theatrics-- and you realize quickly that this is about to be a lot of fun.
“Well, I didn’t say that...'' You warn. But Nathan barely has a second to ponder your menacing words before you’re procuring a curious looking vial, a secret purchase made in a Peruvian marketplace during your last adventure together. The stopper releases with a ripe pop! and Nathan’s heart skips a beat when he realizes what it is. “I just meant that you won’t want to break out when I’m through with you.”
“Woooooah now…” Nathan’s phoney attempts to escape only succeed in pushing him deeper into your hold and, despite his grunts and sighs of labor, he sounds far more pleased than any hero should, pathetically entranced by your fingers as they round the vial’s tip-- and one, two, three fingers are quickly coated in a sticky, clear residue. A single “oh” falls from Nathan’s lips when you spread your fingers, strings of wet stretching and popping and snapping apart. It’s fucking obscene. And you know he loves it.
“Don’t you think we can make some sort of arrangement?” He cranes his head back and shoots you a charmingly sheepish smile, giving you those bright blue puppy dog eyes you could never ever say no to. “I’m s-sure I’ve got a couple extra golden monkey totems laying around back home, maybe we can make some kind of deal, huh? What’d’ya say?” Never, that is, except for now.
“Oh, I think our current arrangement will work just fine…” And with practiced precision, you sweep your free hand past the brass button of Nathan’s jeans, taking your sweet time reaching down and claiming what you really wanted. It takes mere seconds before the infamous Nathan Drake is pliant putty in your hands.
On your first stroke up, Nathan’s head drops weakly back against your shoulder and he makes this sweet, quiet sound-- somewhere halfway between a gasp and a whine-- and your legs are already giving way. But you never make it to the second stroke, because by the first and a half, it already isn’t enough.
“Lift your hips,” you command.
“Wha-what?” Nathan’s tone instantly switches as he awkwardly jockeyes for position, accidentally banging your thigh with his unusually sharp elbows. “Crap. Sorry.”
“Shut up and lift your hips, honey.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”
An involuntary shiver runs through Nathan’s body as you ease your thumbs under his waistband and pull. You’ve seen the way his half-hard cock lightly slaps against his belly, pre-cum leaking and smearing and begging to be cleaned up with your tongue, more times than you could count. And yet, every single time left you as exhilarated, as desperate, as wet as the first.
“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you, Drake…” “You’ll never take me alive!” He spits back with such theatrical nobility that you almost laugh. Jesus, you fucking love him.
With an unfair grip, tacky from slick, you squeeze and jerk him just how you know he likes. Nate hums, tension leaving his body in a frantic wave, and before you know it, you’re inhaling the sickly sweet smell of your boyfriend’s aftershave-- his head nestling in the crevice between your neck and shoulder and making your heart squeeze. But all you can do is pull his cock and breathe in the aftershave— otherwise, you just might faint.
Insatiably curious fingers trace along the thick vein up to his head, thick and drooling and reminding you how it so perfectly filled your cunt as Nate slid home. You reach down further to roll his balls lightly in your palm and he lets out a pathetic squeak. And by the time you’re whispering sweet, threatening nothings in his ear with a coated finger lazily massaging his perineum, his cock has already hardened to full mast.
“Just let go, Nathan Drake. No one has to know.” You bite the shell of his ear, just a little too hard, and Nate yelps, his voice eventually melting into that stunned, breathy laughter that made you want to ride him until you both passed out. But there’d be time for that later.
There was always time for that later.
“What’s your color?”
“Oh my god, green all the way.”
“Thank god, this is super hot.”
”I know, right?!”
You can’t help smiling. “I love you, you know.”
“I love you, too,” Nate beams right back.
Then, in a single move, you pull Nathan down by his hair— earning you a deliciously shocked “Ah!” in return — and force him flat on his back.
“N-now-- just wait a second!” In another life, Nate actually might’ve made a pretty good actor. However, rather than inspiring sympathy, his worried eyes only spur you into deeper, more sinful depths— and an icy-hot shiver of pride forces its way up your spine when you stand back to inspect your work.
Perfect. He’s perfect. Everything’s perfect. You check your watch-- 2:34 PM-- with the nearest town a two hour’s walk away, Sam and Sully should just be getting to the marketplace now. Plenty of time for what you had in mind.
Settling yourself between his legs is enough of a delightful shock (if Nate’s heavy, bated breath is any indication), but when the purple vial reappears in your hands, Nate’s legs spread open, entirely of their own accord. “If you’re not going to tell me the location of the artifact, I’m going to have to use… cruel and unusual interrogation methods,” you warn wickedly with a sharp twist of the wrist, releasing the cork once again and making Nathan’s eyes go wide. “There’s still time to confess…”
“Ooooh, plot.” Nathan grins delightedly, before resuming character: “NEVER!”
“Very well, then… Prepare yourself, Drake.”
You give him nary a second before you’re already wrestling Nate’s pants past his hips, grinning to yourself as he feigns a fight-- doing little but bucking his hips erratically and proving just how hard he already is for you.
“Wait! You can’t--!” Nate grunts and pants and struggles to the best (worst) of his ability, but by the time he’s naked and spread before you, Nate’s already driven himself completely out of breath. Luckily for you, though, pliant and breathless was how you liked Nathan Drake best.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” You tease with a breezy, almost sadistic, cruelty before leaning down to steal a light kiss just below his ear. You want to give him something tender to remember before the other shoe drops. And just for dramatic effect, you give Nate’s neck a sharp, playful bite, and he quickly whines in pointless retaliation. Of course, you were lying. But Nate already knew that.
Your eyes finally fall down to where he’s bare and splayed for you-- and your stomach flips when you see how cute and tight his hole is. Oh. He must’ve cleaned himself for you. And the realization has your face burning. When would he even have had the time? The thought makes your head feel fuzzy, but when you glance up and see how beautiful Nate looks, eager and waiting for you-- for you and only you-- it’s easy to reground yourself again.
It’s an absolutely fruitless fight to keep steady and calm as you place a firm hand against his inner thigh, holding him open, before you press a finger, slowly, carefully, as lovingly as you can muster, between his legs. And you audibly gasp right along with him when you finally break through.
Your heart is beating too fast and he’s too tight, but you’re lucky-- there’s only a split second of resistance before you’re inside. Oh my god. You’re inside him. A hiss of discomfort releases from Nate’s lips despite himself, and he sends you a death glare when you smirk. But the moment ends just as it begins. His face is already falling by the time you start to pump in and out. His pain is quick to twist into pleasure, making him gasp against his will-- a sound he is far too quick to cover up with a particularly unconvincing laugh.
“I admit, villain, your tactics aren’t unpleasant…” Nate defends himself with a scoff, but the sweat gathering at his temples is proof that you’ve already driven him off balance. “But you’ll have to do better than that if you really want the treasure.” Fortunately, you’re even quicker to double down: “Careful with your words, Drake, someone might think that that’s what you want me to do.” And Nate stays alarmingly silent after that.
But he has a point. You can do better. And this time, Nathan doesn’t even bother struggling when you move to tear his pants the rest of the way off. A contagious, excitable gleam enters his eye and his legs go limp by instinct when you reach to grip him under the knees. He knows exactly what’s coming. But still he asks, baby blue eyes blown wide and lips bruised and bitten red from chewing the scenery so hard: “W-wait! What are you gonna do to me?”
It’s a purely rhetorical question.
You dive forward and the first thing you notice is how sweet he tastes--— a feeling only made sweeter by the sound of Nate keening and wailing above you. He’s usually so quiet. It was often a struggle to convince Nate to make any noise at all. But that was where the rope tie came in-- with no way to muffle his own sounds, Nate is forced into honesty. A warm, honeyed sigh parts his lips as you pry him open with viscous, insatiable thumbs. And he melts around you.
“But...what if somebody sees us?” Your heart stops. Yes, it’s all a part of your game, but Nate’s words hold some truth to them. You had mischievously suggested that it’d be more “realistic” to do this outside of camp, out in the open, green, Madagascarian foliage, sunshine beaming through the trees and making Nate’s eyes glimmer. But despite being miles away from the nearest town, you can’t help shivering at his words.
So you check your watch… and smile.
All good to go.
You almost lift your head to answer, but change your mind halfway through-- No way were you going to give him the easy satisfaction of an answer-- and a smirk grazes your features when Nate realizes you aren’t going to respond. Instead, you decide to reward his adorable timidity with your tongue. And besides-- you coyly reason with yourself-- he needs to be nice and wet for what you have planned for him next.
Nate desperately tries to reel himself in as soon as you start again, eyes fluttering open and darting this way and that, searching for something, anything, to focus on that was less overwhelming than the feeling of your tongue entering him. But it’s an entirely futile endeavor. Despite everything you’ve done, he’s still shy-- and finally attempts to trap his increasingly obscene sounds with a bitten lip. “No, no, no, sweetheart…” You plead, trailing a line of kisses up his thigh before delving back in for more. “I want to hear you moan for me.”
Your sweetness even surprises yourself. And by the time you’re smoothing gentle thumbs over his aching thighs, moving seemingly all on their own, you realize you should be speeding things along. You scoff dryly: “Oh, come on, Drake. For someone who never shuts up, you sure are modest.” Suddenly, your open palm wizzes through the air and collides hard with the pert skin of his ass— and Nathan fucking squeals.
“There we go…” After that, the floodgates are nice and open. Whenever embarrassment has your sweet, darling Nathan clamming up, you wrest it away with another spank. Then another. Then another, each one harder than the last. And he finally obeys.
His first honest sound isn’t a moan or a throaty groan, but rather a sweet, airy laugh-- delight laced with surprise-- and your heart squeezes. You’re making him feel good. Despite your attempts to keep your own cool, your heart starts beating faster. You’re making him feel good. And you love him so fucking much. And he deserves it all, and that makes the pleasure that much sweeter.
But the overwhelming thrill of control quickly gets the better of you— you begin to feel brave, mischievous, a little evil even— and all of a sudden your mouth is smoothing over the curve of his ass and biting down hard.
“Hey!” Nate whines defensively, and you grin despite yourself. You’ve always loved messing with him.
Nathan tries desperately to regain his wits, forcing himself back up onto his elbows, and a dark, threatening shadow falls over his face when he leans towards you, “Just what the hell do you think I am? I’m not your… toy!”
“Actually, that’s exactly what I think you are.” And your hands are already reaching out to thread through his hair and yanking down. It’s sharp, mean-- cruel even-- most certainly painful, and yet Nathan makes this sweet, high-pitched sound like he’s grateful. Like he’s being praised. Like he should be lucky to have you treat him this way.
He’s obedient, and follows exactly where your fingers lead him-- his back hitting the dirt with a hollow thump!-- and you swiftly cage his head between possessive forearms.
“Having fun?”
“Yes.”
The question is barely past your lips before Nate is giving you his answer in a longing, desperate gasp-- anything to have you keep going. But, for lack of a better phrase, you enjoy playing with your food first. So when he winces away, you only move in closer-- brazen, territorial. And out of the corner of your eye, you can see him fruitlessly trying to fight a giddy smile, chest heaving in excited breath, when a laugh abruptly sneaks out against his will. He’s so god damn cute.
And your heart stops when you realize-- it’s time.
“Don’t fucking move.” You hiss into Nate’s ear, and he shudders against you.
And in an instant, you’re awkwardly scrambling off of him and rummaging frantically, searching for something amongst the foliage. You’re too excited. You’ve been waiting for this for so long and all of a sudden your fingers aren’t working and you can’t freaking find it and excitement curdles into panic and panic ferments into desperation and then, all of a sudden-- relief fills your chest in an awesome wave. You pull down your backpack’s zipper in one swift arc. And there it is. Heavy and solid and finally real instead of some wishful fantasy and fuck, you’re going to make Nate feel so fucking good.
You’re back to the races with gift in hand, and Nate’s head pops up from the ground when he hears the rustled sounds of your return. “Did I say you could move?” But it’s more playful than anything. You’re just so excited you can’t help it. Nate bites his lip to smother his smile, and falls back into position by the time you’ve settled between his legs.
Clink. Clink. ...Click. All is silent and still but the sound of metallic buckling, something slotting into place. And you begin to hear Nate muttering, soft and desperate, under his breath, “HolyshitHolyshitHolyshitHolyshit.”
And finally, finally, you pull out what he’s been waiting for.
It’s his first time, so you wanted to start small. The dildo itself isn’t much bigger than 5 inches, standard black silicone, with a slight upward slant so that you could reach his prostate with minimal trouble. But Nate sputters and drools like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen: “Wait… baby, are you serious?” Nate’s eyes shine like you’re making all his dreams come true-- and you give yourself a mental fist bump because, for the first time ever, you know that you actually are.
“Jesus Christ, baby, thank you. Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.” Nate babbles incoherently when you finally let your thickness fall between his legs, and he awkwardly jostles forward so he can press grateful kisses up and down your jaw. Fuck yes. Pride makes your skin boil and blush and for just a second, the only thing you can do is sit back and soak in Nate’s sweet, earnest praises, heart beating out of your chest.
But when Nates leans back into position, you begin to feel woozy, soft, vulnerable, even. Everything cuts out but the distant ocean waves and the soft sound of Nate’s shallow, impatient breathing. Nathan looks so sweet and handsome and excited and by the time he’s gripping your strap and lining it up with his sopping wet hole, you realize: You don’t want to hurt him.
Nate worries at his bottom lip with his teeth, antsily readjusting himself when you don’t do or say anything for a few seconds too long, “Hey, uh… is everything okay?” “What? Oh! Yeah, just admiring the view.” Not technically a lie, but enough of one to have him imploring you with his eyes, excitement melting into concern and making your stomach twist. Nate had always been able to read you like a book.
“I just, uh….” And suddenly your lungs are burning white hot with the weight of all your fears. You’re hungry for him. You want to play it cool. You want to do it right. It’s going to hurt. It has to be perfect. It’s going to hurt. You’re basically setting yourself up for horrific, traumatizing failure.
But then Nate makes this sweet little expression-- and his head tilts, eyebrows pinching in the middle, baby blue eyes searching your face for your hesitation, for your pain. And he gives you a small, encouraging smile in return. Like he loves you. Like whatever happens, it doesn’t matter. Because he loves you.
So instead of pulling back, you requite his longing with your own-- pressing a tender kiss against his cheek and sighing your adoration into his ear: “Just tell me if it’s too much, okay?”
“I will,” he gently promises, before his face splits into a wide, eager grin. He’s ready.
You start by rocking into him little by little. And at first, it’s slow going. Really slow going. Nate’s eyebrows jump and knit in a sort of concentrated pain, his face shifting as he haphazardly adjusts to everything you’re giving him, and you fretfully reach out to cradle his waist in your arms. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said the hint of fear in his eyes wasn’t just a little bit hot. His gaze darts up to yours when watching you breach overwhelms him, but you have no solace to offer. And you see the ever briefest flash of doubt-- that there might be one thing, and one thing only, that the infamous Nathan Drake couldn’t take.
But then the rounded tip of the silicone head catches just the right angle, and he gives way in one swift, slick surrender.
Fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Just feeling the first inch sink in is enough to have your heart dropping into your stomach. But the victory is short-lived, because it’s impossible to tell at first exactly what Nate is feeling. For the first time ever, he’s completely unreadable-- bright blue eyes locked onto yours, yet blank and wandering. He breathes-- dazed, shallow, open-mouthed-- and his lips form around inaudible words that you desperately wish you could understand.
“You alright?” You push carefully into the still, silent air. Such a stupid thing to ask. But still, he nods wordlessly, desperately-- and you just barely believe him.
Every inch is pure agony. Nate’s eyes snap closed and a small, anguished sound resounds in the back of his throat. Whether it’s from pleasure or pain is anybody’s guess, and for just a second, you regret not having given him the option to free him first. Dammit. With no way to support himself, Nate falls limp into the foliage below-- gasping as the hot skin of your thighs presses flush against his and you finally, finally bottom out.
You can barely breathe. Your heart beats too loudly, too violently, with the worried pangs of Is he okay? Is he okay? Is he okay? But when Nate’s eyes flutter back open, you see a glint of something that wasn’t there before, something blissful and holy, and your chest fills with the sweet sway of relief.
You’re breathless, hopeful, and you have to ask, you have to know: “How… how does it feel?”
He waits a painstakingly long time before responding.
“It’s, uh…” Nate huffs out in a haze, face flushed and breath hollow. “It’s... big, I guess?”
“What else?” Your shameless curiosity turns every word into a secret. “...Does it hurt?”
He ponders it for a moment, then shakes his head. “No, not anymore.”
Oh… Okay. You smile. That makes the next part easier.
“I feel kind of--” Nate starts up again, perfectly pliant and perfectly distracted, so that when you thrust into him, the noise that is forced out is nothing short of obscene. “...Wow.”
“...Full?” You tentatively finish his sentence for him, like the sickly sweet couple you are.
“Yeah. Full.” He reaffirms with stars in his eyes-- and your heart swells. You’re making him feel good.
So you don’t stop there. You refuse to deprive your baby boy of anything.
You carefully pull back out, only to thrust back in again. And Nate’s body jerks underneath you, legs instinctually wrapping around your back and pulling you in closer. If he could, you know his hands would be all over you. “So good,” he gasps, back arched against the grass below.
“Tell me.” You beg.
“Baby--” Nate wheezes, arousal tearing the breath from his lungs. “You’re inside me.”
Keep making him feel good, your heart commands.
And so you do. You pull back and thrust in again. And again. And again. Before you know it, you have some sort of rhythm going, just haphazard enough to keep him on his toes. And finally, fucking finally— Nate gives you what you want. And moans.
Jesus fucking Christ, you’d give anything to keep hearing him make that sound forever.
Eventually, his groans dissipate to a delirious murmur, and the force of pleasure rips confession after confession from his chest, leaving you a lovesick shell of your former self:
“Jesus Christ, I’ve been practicing for this for so long.”
“...Really?”
“Holy crap, yes. Do… do you remember that time you saved me back in Corinth?”
“Uh… yeah, I do. The Staff of Gaia. That last escape left a scar, you know. But what--?”
“You heard that mercenary before I did. I didn’t know and wouldn’t shut up so you had to cover my mouth with your hand.”
“Yeah, you wouldn’t shut up.” You reminisce with fond chagrin.
“And he had snuck his way right inside our camp so you had to push me up against a tree so he wouldn’t see us.”
“Yeah…?”
“I was fantasizing about you taking me right then and there. Just like this.”
“Nathan…” Your love for him is too heavy to hold, and it rushes out between your lips in a yearning, uneven whimper.
“I thought about your fingers stretching me open. And I thought about your hand against my mouth. I knew you’d keep me quiet. He wouldn’t have even noticed.”
“Nathan.” This time, it’s a warning-- and it takes a painful amount of willpower to not just start plowing into him full force.
“...I would’ve let you do it, too.” At this point, he must know he’s egging you on, because he’s curling into himself so he can gaze up at you, body weak and yielding from the increasing strength of your thrusts, and he looks thoroughly wrecked, devoted to you to the point of piety.
Shit. How are you even supposed to respond to that? “I would’ve done it. I’d do anything you want, sweetheart.” And you do your best to try.
And so you kiss him. Really kiss him. You don’t tease or make him come to you or pull your punches for the sake of powerplay. You just kiss him— and Nate laughs giddily, gratefully, against your lips as you push in deeper, warm hands reaching out to cup around soft cheeks and press against broad, ample shoulders. When your tongues finally meet, it’s so sweet and so good that it has you gasping. You really would do anything for him.
“Drake.” You pray you don’t sound as ragged as you feel.
“Yeah?”
It’s not so much that you start speeding up; you’re just finally giving him what he deserves.
“I want you to watch me fuck you.” And his eyes widen when he realizes you’re going to make him do it. The cruelty in your touch is foreign and fiery as you tug him down by his hair and hold him there, forcing him to look on as you plunge deeper still. And he wails when your strap returns, starkly slicker than before.
You can’t technically feel him around you, but damn, if it doesn’t seem like you can. As Nate’s eyes flutter open and snap closed again, following your instructions up until the point he physically can’t anymore, you can almost feel him pulling you in deeper, warm and tight and wet and yours. “Come on, Drake,” You command just as much as you plead. “Be a good boy and watch me fuck you.”
And he does. Obedient and people-pleasing to a fault, Nathan resituates himself back onto his elbows and looks up to you for approval once and only once, before falling down to where you’re spreading him open. Maybe you’re being a little cruel, because the look on his face-- frightened and euphoric all at once-- is nothing but torture.
But then you remember… wasn’t that the entire point?
“Confess.” The tone of authority is off-kilter as soon as it leaves your lips, and at first, Nate doesn’t even hear you, he’s so overwhelmed. So you try again, your hand creeping up to rest at the hollow of his throat. “Confess.”
“Huh? I… I don't--” His mind has gone numb from pleasure and the first few syllables out of his mouth are comically slurred, silly and sweet and visibly drooling. He’s so far gone, you almost regret what you do next.
Smack! The air rings dangerously with the sound of your palm against his cheek-- and the shiver of arousal up your spine immediately sours with the thick stench of your own guilt. Oh, shit. It takes Nate just a few seconds too long before his gaze rises to meet yours, and for one terrible moment, you realize you might have finally taken things too far.
But then he starts laughing. A real, genuine laugh that makes your heart squeeze and probably gives an angel or two their wings--and suddenly, you’re back in action. Nate’s face splits into a wicked grin, blue eyes beaming and meeting your fire head-on with his own, “And what if I don’t?” Jesus Christ, you fucking love him.
“Confess, Drake… or I stop.” “NO!” The shock to your senses at how immediate Nate’s answer is is going to be masturbation fodder for the next several months. You smile victoriously. At long last, you’ve got the legend himself beat.
Nate’s even surprised himself, if the way he bashfully drops eye contact all of a sudden is any proof. But still, somehow, your sweet baby boy gathers the courage to speak: “Fine, I’ll… I’ll tell you! I promise I’ll be good. Just please don’t stop.” And how could you possibly deny him?
Your fingers clutch tighter around his neck. “Where’s the treasure, Drake?” “It’s… uh…”
But, again, he falls victim to the hypnotizing rhythm you’ve set for him, simmering in the upward steep of an upcoming orgasm, eyes mesmerized by your faithful movement, and his mouth falls open dumbly when he realizes sentences are usually meant to be finished.
“Wait… did you actually want me to come up with something or…?”
And you immediately shut your sweet, stupid, perfect boyfriend up with a kiss. He’s close and you can tell and you want to make it so good for him that he won’t shut up about it for weeks, grabbing your waist behind closed doors and begging for you to take him again, forever and always, just like this. You swear to god, he’s going to come without you even touching his cock, and-- if you’re being honest with yourself-- you just might too.
Your hands are frantic as they push Nathan’s shirt up over his chest, catching under his gun holster, and he cries out when your fingers brush against his nipples. You swear to god you’re going to get him there. Whatever it takes.
The pace with which you now fuck him is brutal-- possesive and animal-- and you’d almost feel sorry about it, but Nate is moaning so sweetly and so dirtily that you have no choice but to keep going. “Feels so fucking good… I’m almost worried you’re gonna get me pregnant or something.” Nate slurs and giggles and bucks his hips up against you, and you jump when you feel his arms circle your neck to pull you closer. Figures no half knot was gonna be able to hold his needy ass. A chuckle bubbles past your lips even as you press in to kiss him, and at long last, you wrap your fist around his red, aching cock to bring him right to the torturous edge--and finally over it. “I just might.”
Then suddenly, time stops-- and you clap a hand over Nate’s mouth just as he’s about to come.
Fuck. Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Yeah, you definitely just heard something.
Shit.
“Hello…?” You press tentatively into the threatening silence, a cruel, mysterious jungle capturing you at your most vulnerable and intimate moment. And you didn’t even have a gun on you. Fuck. The rage of missing Nate’s final earth-shattering orgasm makes your voice quiver more than any shame does, and you interrogate the trees with vengeful accusation. “...Is someone there?”
“Oh! Hey!” A familiar voice calls out from behind the foliage and your stomach takes an immediate nosedive. No, no, no. Nonononononono. Sam? The fuck was he doing back already?! “Me and Sully were looking for you--”
“NO! DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!” Yeah, because screaming at the top of your lungs isn’t gonna sound suspicious at all. And when you look down at Nate, your heart explodes in your chest. Squeezed-shut eyes bracing against the overwhelming weight of his own rapture, splotchy red skin from where you’ve touched, pulled, and grabbed him, drooling and desperate from both ends, and somehow still bucking into your fist, milking the last few remnants of pleasure from your touch and streaking across his chest in creamy ropes. You have to physically bite back a gasp. There’s no fucking way he can see him like this. No fucking way.
“I’m… I’m peeing!” Outstanding save.
“Ah. Gotcha.” To your utter disappointment, Sam sounds entirely unfazed, almost casual to the point of boredom. “Me and Sully found a shortcut, so he’s already back fixing the plane. You haven’t seen Nate by any chance, have you?”
‘No, I haven’t, but thanks for the update, Sam. Do you always feel this comfortable holding conversations while the other person is pissing?”
“Uh… Yeah, actually!”
“Good to know. See you back at camp, Sam!” You seethe in return, and at long last, Sam picks up what you’re putting down-- “Heh, yeah… See ya!”--and you hear him humorously snort before pitter-pattering back into the depths of the jungle.
When it finally sounds like you’re in the clear, a sigh of relief tears through your chest, and you don’t waste even another second before you’re replacing the hand over Nate’s mouth with your own, kissing the ever-living daylights out of him-- and somehow, impossibly, he manages to find the strength to reciprocate just as passionately as you do. His chest is tacky and the drool on his chin has you unceremoniously sticking to him. But you couldn’t possibly care less. You’ve made him happy-- and so nothing else matters.
“Come on, babe, we should get you cleaned up. Sam and Sully are waiting up for us.” You offer between gentle, soothing touches, but Nate just wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and pulls you in for more. He’s so warm beneath you, and the connection so magnetic, that nothing else matters in this moment except making his landing back to earth as soft and sweet as possible.
As you kiss him back to reality, you feel a sudden, gentle pressure against your ear, and break away just long enough to discover the culprit. “What?” Nate whimpers impatiently before you abruptly procure your find-- a fallen flower, a brilliantly bright yellow Hibiscus, from the trees overhead-- and offer it to him like a gift, the final prize of Nathan Drake’s most wild adventure yet. “A flower for a flower.” And Nate’s resulting smile is wide and dreamy as you move to tuck it behind his ear.
“I love you, you know.” He whispers against your heart.
“I love you, too.” You promise right back.
The sounds of an awakening jungle and the rousing coolness of a quickly arriving dusk remind you of who’s awaiting you back at camp, but as far as you’re concerned, right now-- in this simple, perfect moment-- you and Nathan are the only two people in the world.
---
“Ah!” “You alright, kid?” “Yeah, just fine!”
By the time you and Nate are back at camp, the sky is dark and Sam already has a small bonfire going on, while Sully opens canned beans with the shittiest can opener of all time. Conveniently for you two, though, both Sam and Sully were gullible enough to believe when you claimed that a run-in with some Shoreline folks had you running an hour behind schedule. What exactly you were running behind in schedule for, though, you were never quite able to say.
When Nate finally plops down on the sleeping bag next to you, he winces in abrupt, sharp pain and suddenly Sully’s 5-star dinner of cold kidney beans eaten out of a tin with a spork is a thing of the past, splattered all over the forest floor. But, luckily for him, you were a patron saint, and more than willing to share yours.
“Ow!” “Okay, seriously Nate, what the fuck is going on?”
Sam accuses-- no, you have to convince yourself, he asks-- from the other size of the campfire. His scope of vision is just small enough behind the haze of flames to shield from seeing as Nate clutches at his backside with a quiet hiss. Shit-- you had brought along Advil and everything. You just got so swept up in the excitement of everything that you must’ve forgotten to offer them. But, either way, it’s your personal duty to rescue your boyfriend from harm’s way, isn’t it?
“Oh! It must’ve been that… mercenary that knocked you down! Nasty fall. You okay, honey?”
And Nate’s face as he turns towards you is filled with nothing but gratitude. “Oh, yeah! How could I possibly forget?” “Must’ve hit your head harder than you thought,” you smile in return, affectionately ruffling his hair with your free hand. Out of the corner of your eye, Sam and Sully share a suspicious glance across the firepit, but you’re too distracted by Nate’s bright, loving eyes on you to even be paying attention. You really do love him. And it was impossible to say it enough.
A burst of color grabs your eye in the light of the glowing embers, and you turn just in time to catch it.
“You’re still wearing it,” you state simply, fingers reaching out to where the bright yellow Hibiscus you gave him still sits nestled behind Nathan’s ear, already wilting in the humid evening air.
“What? Oh! ...Yeah, I am.” It must be a trick of the light when you see Nate’s cheeks flush.
Your next words aren’t chosen, but purely instinctual, “You look beautiful.” And he really, really does. It would’ve been a crime not to tell him. And you would’ve kept telling him, had he not cut you off with a longing, passionate kiss.
“Ewww… Mommy and Daddy are kissing again.” Sam snickers from your adjacent side.
But you couldn’t possibly care less. For now, for just this moment, the only thing that matters is Nathan, and the sweet summer breeze that carries his heart to yours. “Wanna go ‘collect some firewood’?” Nate purrs into your ear, as soon as Sam and Sully turn their backs to talk logistics of tomorrow’s mission. Obviously, though, Nate had more important things in mind, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t right there with him. “I’m sure there’s gotta be some other treasure you’re looking for… maybe I could be of some assistance.”
“Are you sure…?” You flirt-- threaten?-- right back. “I heard there’s some crazy villains out there. Might be a little dangerous, Drake.”
But then you remember, just as his lips meet yours, that the novelty of something potentially dangerous never wore off for Nathan Drake.
“Oh, I think I can handle it.”
133 notes · View notes
legoshi-plz · 3 years
Note
So I was wondering if I could get some period cramps comfort hcs with Legoshi and Louis please? (Also whatever animal u want is fine)
I had a couple of ideas for this but the indication of a period kinda means the reader would more than likely be coded as fem and I wanted everyone to feel included so I also did a version of them taking care of their significant other when they’re sick in general (like a cold or something).
Warning: NSFW-ish Elements
//////
Louis:
Period Discomfort:
- Growing up with only Oguma and himself, he’s never experienced seeing someone go through a period ever so he has no clue how to deal with it.
- If you want any empathy from him you’re going to have to explain it to him and how painful it is for you. He might think you’re exaggerating at first but once he actually sees you in pain, he’ll start to believe it.
- Thinks money solves everything and just buys whatever he thinks you’ll need and has it delivered to you. Thoughtful yes, however you end up with a lot of menstrual products you dont use and chocolate you won’t eat because Louis just went ahead and bought everything he saw instead of actually asking you what you about brands, sizes, etc.
- Not the type to comfort you physically. He actually really hates the smell of blood and his super sensitive nose always can pick up on it. He won’t go out of his way to avoid you because it’s you and you could never repulse him but he’s not the “let’s cuddle up on the couch and watch sappy movies” type either.
- Overall avoids the situation. Not the best in this subject but is doing the best he can in his comfort zone.
Sick S/O:
- Not very good at reading preemptive symptoms. Won’t realize that you’re sick until you’re nearly hacking up a lung or fainting from fatigue.
- But once he does realize you’re not well, he insists that you get some rest and don’t push yourself. Won’t take no for an answer.
- Again thinks the best way is to throw money at a situation so buys you the best medicine, heating pad, etc. Will also take you to the doctor and if you’re too weak or unwilling, will have his personal doctor make a house call.
- Stays with you while you’re sleeping. When you wake up and try to stop him, he insists your germs won’t affect him and he can’t get sick (they totally do and he totally does).
- Overall more equipped in this subject but can be pretty strict/ annoying in your recovery (he’s lost a lot of people okay? He refuses to lose you too, especially to something like this if he can prevent it)
Legoshi:
Period Discomfort:
- His Canine senses always let him know when you’re on your period (plus he can like.... smell the blood but he’s too polite to point that out + blood is the farthest thing from unpleasant to Carnivores).
- By far the best in these type of situations. Does a ton of research and also outright asks you what he can do for you. Really attentive to you and your needs.
- Wanna listen to sad music under LED lights and just vibe out? He’s right there with your fave playlist. Wanna cuddle up on the couch and watch sad movies? He’s already got it started along with a pint of your favorite ice cream.
- Just overall Boyfriend of the year when it comes to this.
Sick S/O:
- Yep, he’s also an expert on his significant other being sick too (Go figure, right?)
- Makes homemade Soup/ Broth to soothe your throat. Runs you a warm bath to try and break the fever. Makes you take some medicines but also uses a lot of home remedies and practices he’s learned from Gosha growing up.
- Also claims he won’t get sick but unlike Louis, he actually doesn’t because he has a pretty strong immune system as a Grey Wolf. Able to stay by your side the whole time and will unless you asks for some space, which he’ll give but he’ll worry about you the whole time he’s gone.
- Overall has a tendency to hover but means well and is very knowledgeable about your recovery. Will have you feeling better the fastest.
Juno:
Period Discomfort:
- Certified expert in this subject. Knows exactly what you’re going through and knows exactly how to deal with it. Will know what you want/ need before you even know yourself.
- Always has Pads and Tampons handy. Always knows the exact size and kind to get.
- Offers advice to ease the pain you’d never even thought of before such as stretching and doing Yoga (and of course you two do Yoga together/ she helps you stretch. The close contact can be pretty intimate which you’ll love if you crave touch during your period.)
- However, if you and Juno’s periods ever sync up, she’s not going to be the most pleasant to be around, it’s best the two of you just avoid each other.
Sick S/O:
- Loves to play nurse but not actually all that great in making you feel better. Definitely has a sexy nurse’s costume that she likes to put on while caring for you.
- A lot of head pats and hand holding with a few “We’re gonna get through this,” sprinkled on there so yeah basically not helpful at all.
- Will go get you medicine or anything else you need but you have to tell her EXACTLY what to get, she’s not great at following directions okay
- Like Legoshi, being a Grey Wolf means she’s hardly ever sick... like EVER. She has hardly any experience in this field.
Riz:
Period Discomfort:
- By far the most touchy-feely when you’re on your period. He loves the smell of blood and he thinks you smell delicious. Usually a very chill, easygoing guy but becomes uncharacteristically clingy during this time.
- Never gets tampons or pads because he’s too busy eating you out or shoving his fat cock inside you.
- Thinks his dick is the cure to all of your needs and in this case he’s kinda right because period sex actually does help relieve like 80% of your symptoms.
- Fucks softer than he normally would but he’s nearly insatiable, especially when he’s high off your blood so you’re nearly on the verge of passing out from exhaustion.
- Once you’re too tired to continue, he’s still right there by your side, his arms permanently latched around you. He seriously can’t get enough of you when you’re like this, your period hormones have him even more lovestruck than he already is.
- Will draw you a bath after sex, carry you to the tub, and personally wash every inch of you. Anything to touch you at this point. Doesn’t join though because he doesn’t wanna reveal how such a seemingly innocent act gets him so hard.
- Overall has a pretty unconventional approach to period care but it makes you feel better all the same and you know it’s coming from a true place of love (and a little lust).
Sick S/O:
- Much more tame when it comes to caring for a sick S/O because the hormones you secrete during your period aren’t fogging his judgement.
- Still very touchy-feely but in a non-sexual way. Likes to lay you on top of him and hold you to help get rid of your chills. Also gives the BEST massages to relieve the ache in your joints.
- Believes honey is an end all be all cure to any illness and puts it in/on literally everything. Though it does help soothe your throat, you still end up sending him to the store to pick up some more potent remedies.
- Next to honey, he thinks sleep/rest is the answer to near everything (because he’s a bear and hibernating is their go to for any ailment) so he also adds sleep inducers to your tea, food, etc. to get you to sleep off the cold. You don’t mind because it actually does help (also he always tells you ahead of time that it’s in there)
- Overall a good caretaker in this department even if some of his actions can seem a little antiquated or stereotypical for Bears.
Gouhin:
Period Discomfort:
- He’s surprisingly a lot like Riz in this department (which actually isn’t all that surprising since they’re both bears). He’s got a sensitive nose and your hormones really mess with his head and kick him into overdrive.
- This isn’t his first rodeo with his partners’ periods so he does have some experience in this field to help keep him under control.
- Will indulge in period sex but only if his partner asks for it/ brings it up first. He knows that’s a slippery slope, especially with his kind and with his self-control so he doesn’t seek it out first. (Can’t deny that he loves when you do ask for it though)
- Knows all the tricks of the trade in helping you feel better non-sexually and indulges you when he has time but since he’s pretty busy with clients and stuff, he hardly ever has time for the aspects that require him physically being there (such as cuddling, massages, etc.)
- Pretty average in this department because he’s older so he doesn’t have time to really baby you through this the way you might want him to.
Sick S/O:
- Deals with his S/O being sick very similar to how he deals with period discomfort.
- He’s a medical professional so he tends to just get you some medicine that actually works instead of incorporating home remedies that end up taking longer, in his opinion.
- Can be a little irritating when he walks around in the morning time with his shirt off looking like the embodiment of health and toned abs, sipping on his bamboo smoothie while you feel like you’re on your deathbed.
- Tells you to get plenty rest, drink plenty fluids, take the medicine he leaves for you but he’s not there to really enforce it because he leaves in the morning for work and doesn’t get back until super late at night. You usually fall asleep and forget to wake up to do anything he told you to. He’s not upset and not really the punishment type in the first place so there are no real repercussions, he just reminds you again the next day to do it if you want to feel better faster.
- Overall, has a pretty neutral/indifferent approach to this because he’s seeing the situation through the lens of professionalism, so some aspects you really crave such as physical contact or general affection, he falls short in.
Bill:
Period Discomfort:
- Don’t call him.
- Thinks periods are gross and does NOT want to be around you if you’re on yours.
- The only way he’d reach out to you during this time is if he was horny and wanted you to use your mouth to get him off.
- A terrible guy who you should block tbh :/
Sick S/O:
- Says things like “Hang in there champ,” and that’s pretty much it.
- If you sneeze around him or cough near him, he’ll think it’s gross and proceed to avoid you.
- Why do you even bother with him again?
430 notes · View notes
prose-for-hire · 3 years
Text
How ats characters would celebrate their s/o’s Birthday:
Characters include: Angel; Spike; Cordelia; Wesley; Fred; Lorne; Gunn; Doyle; Lindsey; Drusilla and Darla
A/N: Again, totally self-indulgent for my Birthday lol! They’re fluffy !! Hope you guys enjoy them, you can save them for your Birthdays or just enjoy them today !! 🖤💖
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Angel:
- Money is no object
- Will ask what you wanna do
- Could literally be anything at all
- He has enough disposable income that you feasibly could do anything
- You insist that all you want is him though
- Not his money, just him
- You adore him
- And this assurance absolutely makes him melt
- All he ever wants is for you to be happy
- But he insists that you should mark the occasion
- So you suggest a party
- Just a small gathering with the team and some good music
- He grins, pressing a kiss to your lips
- He’s actually really excited
- He can get awkward at parties (and just in general)
- But he does enjoy them somewhat
- Especially since he began dating you
- Everything’s better with you
- And that’s why he wanted to celebrate your day properly
-  The hotel’s back and functioning
- And completely covered in decorations
- He appeared to have raided the entire party store
- Every occasion seemed to be represented lol
- Literally everything you could imagine stuck to the walls
- There’s even a balloon arch
- He clearly spent a really long time on it so you give him lots of kisses
- Which makes him almost blush
- He really cares and just wants you to feel good
- He would be by your side the entire time
- You would have a lot of fun
- Mostly just enjoys wrapping his arms around you
- And swaying slightly
- Whispering his love and happy birthdays
- The gift he gave you would be very meaningful and super romantic
- You would have melted right then and there
- You have a really great time, drinking and laughing
- You sit on his lap when you’re not being hauled up to dance with Cordy and Wes
- You even convince Angel to dance
- It’s equal parts dorky and adorable
- You definitely dance with him
Cordy:
- She would be so ridiculously excited
- For your birthday
- Like, ordering everyone around
- Making sure they get you the very best gifts
- And nobody is allowed to forget
- Or else
- She’s really pumped for you to be celebrated
- You’ll probably go to a bar the night before with all your friends
- Maybe Caritas if it’s up and running at the time
- (Cordy swings free drinks for you all)
- But the next day was your birthday
- You would wake up beside her
- It would honestly just be the best gift
- Just to have her this way
- You pull her into you
- Snuggling together
- Both of you sleeping off a hangover (Depending on how much/if you drank)
- Today, your actual birthday, was just for you and her
- Intimate in a way that she has always craved
- And with you she has
- Completely
- She has bought a lot of presents
- They can be assigned to two categories:
- Things you want and others that she insists you need
- All very well thought out and incredibly sweet
- She would be very cute and press lots of kisses to your lips
- Soft, sleepy kisses
- You spend a lot of the day in bed
- Just the two of you
- It’s honestly just perfect
- She wanted you to herself and you completely feel the same
- She’ll have rented movies, anything you like and you just spend it on the sofa
- Wrapped in blankets and each other
- Understated (yes, she can do understated)
- And yours
Lorne:
- The grandest plans
- You only deserved the best
- You always felt completely cherished with Lorne
- But he made sure to give you his undivided attention around your Birthday
- He wanted all the attention to be lavished upon you
- He could be so soft and so very insistent too
-He could tell you sometimes felt guilty about it but his nature made it so that he always made sure you were enjoying yourself
-  The most important thing was always that you felt good
- Caritas was basically a shrine to you
- He would source pictures of you growing up, fixing them up everywhere
- There would be themed drinks (from important points in your life)
- Not to mention the list of karaoke songs all evening were exclusively your favourites
- Absolutely no exceptions
- You would be showered in gifts
- Despite you telling him it really wasn’t necessary
- Especially if it’s one of your first birthdays with you both together
- Would go so far past overboard
- But he would be entirely too cute about it
- He would vibrate with excitement
- Waiting for you to open everything
- Just when you thought you were finished
- Another pile of presents would appear from nowhere
- All the affection too
- Through the entire day, would want to be close to you
-  Always does but especially so
- At the end of the day, would wrap you in his arms
- Already planning to outdo himself next year
Spike:
- The man is near obsessive over your birthday
- Consumes his thoughts the entire month, just like you do all of the time
- Won’t stop thinking about it
- Mentioning it
- He’s definitely more into it than you are
- He wants you to have something normal, human
- You have to have something special - he insists
- Wants to cherish you, the entire day would be yours
- You would make the decisions for the day
-  And then he would have something planned for the evening
- Will decide to take you for drinks
- But at a more high end place than he would usually take you
- Might even take you for a trip away, somewhere you used to go
- will steal Angel’s fanciest car
- he’ll take you somewhere that he knows you like
- maybe somewhere special to the both of you
- The evening will be nice, he’ll make you smile as always
- Might treat you to some human food
- A restaurant too if you like that kind of thing
- You always feel special with him
- But the evening won’t end there
- You’ll make your way back to the car
- But he’ll grab your hand with a smirk
- Dragging you in the opposite direction
- He has it all set up
- He paid off the security guard
- There are blankets and tiny little fairy lights
-  That he would have to turn off in a second, but he knew he would enjoy seeing your smile though
- He had wanted a big gesture
- Something from the movies
- Because that’s what your love was like
- Something more human but still intimate
- Just for you
- He would help you lie back, lying by your side
- Pulling you into him
- You would be stargazing as you nestled into him
- Pointing out constellations that he probably was naming completely wrong
- But you wouldn’t care because he had thought all of this up just for you
- You were happy just as long as you would be together
- He would make you laugh so hard
- And just make you feel so cherished and celebrated 😊
Wes:
- Would be so bashful about his plans
- Ridiculously anxious that you would be enjoying yourself
- That you would like whatever he came up with
- Absolutely head over heels for you
- Completely and utterly yours
- And so wants his plans to reflect this
- The gift he gives would be understated, but completely fitting
- He would be nervous to give it to you
- But once you begin gushing
- He would smile and chuckle in that way he does
- He wants to take you to a bar
- For drinks because you deserve to be celebrated
- The world’s always threatening to end
- So he wants you to have a day where it can just be you both
- Celebrating his absolute favourite person
- You ask him if he’ll dance with you
- He looks around a little embarrassed
- But he gets a burst of courage
- Takes your hand, leads you to the dancefloor
- You dance wildly, matching his moves and laughing
- A slow song started
- You loop your arms around his neck
- It was just the two of you
- For all you knew
- He whispered something
- Something he hadn’t said yet
-  “I love you”
- The sweetest, most meaningful Birthday gift
- You would press your lips to his
- Telling him just how much you appreciated this
- And he would smile into the kiss
- Chuckling slightly
- So ecstatic that you were enjoying yourself
- But you insist that it would only be with him
- He wraps his arms around you
- Leaning his head against yours
- You dance slowly in the middle of the room
- Eyes closed
- It was pure bliss
- You love each other so much
Drusilla:
- She would pull out every stop
- An extravagant event
- In your honour
- Everything would have to be just so
- Or she would start cracking skulls
- Would attempt to make it a sweet surprise
- But would begin to murmur about it one evening
- As she held you close
- You would be very used to interpreting her words
- And so realise
- But not tell her so not to upset her
- Either way it would be beautiful
- just before the day, she brings you a bunch of flowers
- they’re night blooming
- and they look a little dead
- but you of course adore them
- The night of your birthday was so pretty, she says it’s because it belongs to you
- Your night
-The event would be filled with gifts and people you vaguely knew and liked
- She would ensure you were the centre of attention
- As you were already the centre of her world
- She would smile, laying such adoring affections on you
- Her hands entwined with you
- Would be by your side for the entire day
- Soft gestures of physical affection as you both enjoyed the celebration
- Always touching you
- Would definitely have several gifts for you
- Definitely a birthday tarot reading
- You tell her that you don’t need a future reading, you see yourself with her
- For eternity
- She would adore this and get very excited
- Lots and lots of love
- And probably several trinkets
- She probably found these trinkets by purposefully targeting the owners
- And taking them for you
- (A for effort, isn’t she the sweetest? Always thinking of you)
Gunn:
-  He would be a man with a plan
- It may not be pulled off exactly as planned
- But he would have had the idea in advance
- Very caring for a s/o
- Can get wrapped up in a relationship
- Which is lucky for you
- He adores you
- Absolutely worships you
- (just as you do for him ofc)
- He gets up early, ready to set everything up
- But gets instantly interrupted
- You roll over and wake up
- He can’t resist you
- Gets caught out and slides back into bed
- Holds you for a while and you cuddle up to him
- Long story short…
- You spend most of the day in bed
- Long into the afternoon
- Which, he finds a lot better than he could have planned anyway
- He tried to get away at first but by noon he just couldn’t tear himself away
- He holds you close
- Telling you how lucky he feels to have you
- And that he wants everything to be good
- He’ll singlehandedly stop an apocalypse for you
- He insists nothing’s gonna stop celebrating your day
- But you pull him back into bed again
- Pressing kisses against him
- Insisting he’s the only gift you could ever want
- But when he presents his actual gift you of course take it
- He’s very in tune with you, always listens to what you like
- And so the gift is very thoughtful but also useful/something you will use
- Which leads to you peppering him in kisses and gushing
- Which makes him smile
- That one that makes him absolutely glow
- You’re still not quite sure what the plans were
- But they were easily cancelled, he sent a chain text and it was sorted
- he called for takeout instead
- your favourite of course
- it was simple but honestly you wouldn’t want it any other way
- just you and him
Darla:
- Probably would not have remembered
- Until you mentioned it
- Definitely isn’t used to birthday celebrations
- You had been through so much since then
- But once she realises
- Decides she wishes to dedicate the day to you
- She doesn’t show it often, but she can be so ridiculously soft for you
- The day would be intimate and just for the both of you
- She can be very possessive and wouldn’t want anyone else involved
- Anything you wanted she would get for you
- You name it, literally
- It’s yours
- She can take over entire shopping malls
- Hold up an evil law firm
- Make them do a spell or something for you
- She would lavish so much on you
- You could take your pick of anything and she would take your hand the entire day
- Such obvious affection is rare, but she does adore you
- Presses a single kiss against your temple
- With that sweet, knowing smile
- Her eyes would always be on you
- You would feel loved just by her gaze
- She truly stopped everything just to celebrate you
- Evil plots on pause, won’t even talk to Wolfram and Hart
- If that’s what you wish
- She doesn’t like to admit how much you mean to her
- But because it’s your birthday
- She would
- If she hasn’t already, she would love to sire you
- It would be a very romantic gift for her to offer
- As if she had brought you a dozen roses
- Making your death day and your birthday the same day
- She would see it as the best present she could give you
Lindsey:
- Doesn’t mention your birthday
- Always so busy at work
- You presume he’s forgotten
- And you don’t remind him
- You don’t mind
- (or I mean that’s what you tell yourself)
- But when the day rolls around you wake up
- And frown
- His work clothes are still out
- He hasn’t left today
- And someone’s in your kitchen?
- You go and see what’s going on and he’s made your favourite breakfast
- He looks at you as if you just brought the sun into the room
- A heavenly glow that only surrounded you
- You were the light in his life
- He loves so deeply, wants to cling onto this
- Wants you to know just how much he loves you
- By making this day just for you
- He chides you though cos he was trying to make breakfast in bed
- But you had woken up
- But you just wrap your arms around him and hug him close
- He pulls you in for a deep kiss
- Holding onto this moment
- Holding on to you
- He’s got a very rare day off
- And you don’t want to ask how much of his soul was sold off for the luxury
- The day’s completely yours
- You go out and do tourist-y stuff in LA
- You live there but never get a chance to do something just fun and normal
- So you go around and take cheesy pictures
- Try out different hotspots
- You have a really lovely meal at the end of the day too
- He’s comfortable, has money to blow on fancy meals
- But it means more because he appeared to have looked into the local menus and stuff
- Finding suggestions that he knew that you would like
- You go to a few bars that you really enjoy
- but he soon notices you want to go back home
- So you and he can celebrate without any prying eyes
- It was truly one of the best days, you felt so much closer
Fred:
- She would have forgotten about birthdays
- After Pylea
- But when you mentioned it casually
- She jumped into action
- Not just because it was probably only a few days away
- But because she loved you and wanted you happy
- Wouldn’t want to do anything too lavish
- It’s just not the way you both are together
- It would be something simple, but so very meaningful
- She would be so soft
- (I mean she is anyway, but this is a day celebrating you)
- And she loves you so much
- I think she’d take you for a little day out
-  A kind of adventure
- But one where you could relax plenty
- A day off from demons and one just for you?
- Perfection
- She would present you with a gift while you were out
- I think she would have made it herself I think
- Probably took a while
- But she enjoyed it so much
- Something clever and cute
- Like her
- She would blush if you made a big deal of thanking her
- But ultimately reciprocate any kisses
- She would probably cuddle up to you and ask what you would like to do that evening
- She apologises for not having grander plans but honestly her just being with you is the best
- And you ofc tell her this
- You settle for drinks at a bar you both like
- But you don’t stay long, mostly just wanting to spend time privately
- You grab some takeout on the way home
- And celebrate more intimately
- The glow of the tv, but neither of you will be watching
- Just the two of you
Doyle:
- He’d be buzzing with excitement
- You always treat him so good
- (he swears he doesn’t deserve it)
- So he makes sure that you feel the love
- Especially so because it’s your birthday
- He says you have plans for your birthday
- And you’re like ??
- That’s news to me lol
- But he absolutely won’t tell you
- And teases you about it in the weeks leading up
- His teasing smile is equal parts infuriating
- And cute
- He just wants you to enjoy yourself
- And this is part of it
- He’s sick of everything ruining your time together
- So he tries to bargain with the powers
- He just looks upwards and half-pleads for them not to bother him
- Just for your birthday weekend
- No visions, please
- Nothing he comes up with, in his own mind, will be good enough
- He wants to give you the world
- And he promises one day he will
- Does this through a cute little globe key chain
- Before giving you a few more gifts
- He truly listens to you and things you like
- Buys things through the year
- So that he has them
- Hiding them is hard
- He would have planned it all out, using his connections
- He’s bagged a weekend away for you both
- somewhere you’ve always wanted to go
- Somewhere really nice, super upmarket
- Not something you’re used to after living in LA so long
- You have the best time
- He honestly makes you feel like the only person in the world
- He’s just so sweet
-  Literally would drop anything for his s/o
- To make sure you’re enjoying yourself and happy
- It was just perfect
- You’re already planning to make it a tradition
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juyeoniemyhoney · 3 years
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Die In Your Arms
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As long as you have Juyeon everything will be fine. Because anything that the world throws your way, you can depend on him to guide you and love you and comfort you until nothing hurts anymore, until everything makes sense, until you can face a new day. And it is without a doubt that you'll do exactly the same for him.
or
If you could just die in Juyeon's arms, you wouldn't mind.
-pairing: lee juyeon x reader
-genre: idol!juyeon, established relationship, fluff, like SO much fluff
-warnings: oc is having a life crisis and is indecisive af, some mentions of anxiety,
-word count: 1865 words
-A/N: hey guys! this my first ever fanfic for the boyz so i hope you like it! i got into them christmas last year and fell absolutely in love with juyeon. recently, i've been in my feels but juyeon and the boyz have really been keeping me happy so i decided to write this! i will continue to write for bts and start writing for all the other groups i stan so please look out for that!
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You know, when you say the world hates you, you really mean it hates you.
The worst part is that it hates you in the most painful way possible, by inflicting you with indecisiveness, with a deep-rooted anxiousness abut everything, with the incessant habit of losing interest in everything you take up within months. And it is not like you can blame the world for the problems you have, since it always looks mostly self-inflicted. So what do you do? You cry, of course. Because if no one will take pity on you, you sure as hell will.
And that is how Juyeon finds you sobbing on his couch over a goddamn piece of paper.
When Juyeon finds that the light in his kitchenette has been turned on, he is not surprised. When he sees your figure lying on the couch, back faced to him, he is not surprised either. When you turn to look at him when he calls your name and he sees the tears spilling from your eyes, however, is when a gasp leaves his lips and he drops everything to rush to your side.
"Y/N," he coos, dropping to his knees so that his face is level with yours, hand immediately coming up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping at the tears that slip from your pretty eyes.
Through the blur of your tears, you see the way he looks at you, eyes soft and gentle, almost like he can feel the pain you are going through, like he hurts when you do. The hand he has on your cheek is grounding and comforting and warm, and you feel yourself calm down a little. Because Juyeon is here and he is with you and as long as he is here, everything is going to be okay.
"What's wrong, baby," he coos again, both hands now cupping your face, swiping at your cheeks and tucking away wisps of hair that fall into your face. You begin to sit up and Juyeon's hands follow your face with you, chasing after you like if his hands left your cheeks for even a second, the dam would break again and you would burst back into sobs.
"Juyeon," you almost whine, and you hate how your voice sounds, high pitched and annoying and so unlike how it usually is. Juyeon is surprised at how you are whining too but it sparks a protectiveness inside of him and he can't help but smile because you are just the cutest person on earth.
You open up your arms when you sit up properly, gesturing for Juyeon to hug you. He does not.
Instead, he grabs the blanket that has been draped across the back of the couch and swathes you with it, wraps you up all warm and tight until you can barely move. Then, he sits on the couch and carries you so that you sit on his lap and he cradles you like you are a baby, rocking you back and forth and every time you get close to his face, he places a kiss on your cheek or your lips or your forehead and sends you the prettiest, biggest grin that has his eyes smiling and his lips stretching in the prettiest way possible.
"What are you doing," you say with a small laugh, and you suddenly realised that you've stopped crying.
"I'm making you feel better, my big baby," Juyeon replies, eyes glinting with mischief, smile gentle and words soft despite his teasing. And you feel your heart leap in your chest and your lips fall into a admiring pout. You have the best boyfriend in the world and it is not just because he is sweet and comforting and gentle. It's because he's Juyeon. And you have to thank the heavens and every single star that has brought you together because Lord knows that you'd be a mess if it weren't for this tall, sweet boy with the prettiest smile and the kindest eyes.
"Did you read some sad fanfic about me again," he teases, grinning down at you. And for some reason, you are brought back to reality. It is as if you'd miraculously forgotten that your boyfriend has a full time job. As an idol. You forget that he's just come home from a gruelling practice that has left him exhausted and sticky with sweat. And he probably does not want to deal with this; to deal with you when he's just been ground to the bone and all he wants to do is shower and lie in his bed and rest before he has to wake up hours later and do it all over again. He does not, he should not have to deal with you. And yet he does.
"No," you laugh, pausing to consider your words. "Juyeon, why don't you go take a shower first, hmm?" you suggest, wiggling your hand out of the blanket to rake it through his mussed hair, trailing your fingers down to tuck the longer strands behind his ear, then to his jaw, and finally to his chin to pull him down for a peck, to which he indulges you in.
"Why? Do I smell?" he asks a little self-consciously, face dropping into a worried frown. And you laugh because Juyeon may be holding you like you are a newborn baby, but sometimes he is so gullible and innocent you wonder if he is the true child.
"No," you reply. In all honesty, he still smells of his lavender and aloe body wash and his vanilla scented shampoo remains redolent in his otherwise sweaty hair. Juyeon looks at you then, with a questioning look, silently urging you for an explanation.
"I just— Aren't you tired? You can deal with me later," you say, already beginning to lift yourself from his arms. But Juyeon does not allow you so, frowning sternly at you and locking you in his arms.
"No, that can wait. You're sad and I need to know why otherwise I can't help you. I know you don't like depending on people. But depend on me.".
You open your mouth to protest but nothing comes out. You want to say, "I can depend on you later, Juyeon! You come first!" but you know that it will end up to nothing. Juyeon is uncannily stubborn when it comes to things like these. He always puts you first and it frustrates you to no end when you want to do the same for him but he just won't let you.
"I just don't know if I want to become a writer, or a doctor, or a nurse," you tell him instead, sitting up in his lap so that his arm supporting your back does not get tired. But it's so uncomfortable so you shift and shift and shift until you find yourself sitting on the couch, legs thrown over Juyeon's thighs, arms around his waist and head leaning on his shoulder, the blanket now covering both of you.
To be frank, you don't even know if Juyeon can help you with this problem you are facing right now. Juyeon has always known he wanted to become an idol. It has been his dream for years and years and he has never experienced the dilemma you face right now so you're not even sure he can sympathise with you. Sure, he can comfort you and he can give you advice but in the end you'll still have to make the decision yourself and that fact terrifies you down to your very bones.
"Okay, well," Juyeon starts out. You can tell he's unsure about how to go about this. It is evident in the way he picks and chooses his words carefully, scared he'll say something wrong, or something to offend you. And though he is scared, you suppose you aren't, fully trusting in the three more years of wisdom Juyeon has on you.
"Well, I suppose you have to see which one makes your heart flutter the most," he continues, tilting his head so that it rests on top of yours. "You have to figure out which one you'd rather do for the rest of your life."
The one thing that makes my heart flutter most is you, you think. But you quickly dispel those thoughts from your brain with a scolding. Juyeon is trying his best to help you, you should not be thinking these things.
"Well, I suppose writing makes my heart flutter the most," you say with a smile, just the thought of being able to put your imagination into words sparking a sense of motivation within you. But the spark quickly dies out with your smile when you realise and voice out, "But I can totally see myself being a doctor for the rest of my life."
Juyeon hums in thought before saying, "Well, don't you want to help people? Why don't you try for nursing?"
You give it a thought, a long thought that stretches out the silence between the two of you, full of thought and deliberation. In the silence, Juyeon gently moves his arm to your waist, gingerly patting a rhythm into the skin there, waiting patiently as you navigate your maze of thoughts.
"Okay," you finally say after minutes of deliberation. In your silence, Juyeon had unconsciously fallen asleep and your sudden agreement to his suggestion wakes him from his slumber with a jolt.
"You'll try nursing?" he asks, a grin already colouring his voice. You pull away from his shoulder so that you can look at him. His eyes are half-closed and you can tell he is still trying to keep awake. The grin he wears is tired but genuine and you start to feel your heart rap at your ribcage. He looks like an overtired kitten and you can't help but coo as your hands move to cup his cheeks.
"Yeah, I will. I'll still be doing biology, which I love. But I won't be quite as busy as I would be if I was a doctor. So I'd hopefully still have time to write," you explain and his grin widens.
"Okay, Bubs. I'm proud of you," he tells you as he nuzzles into your palms, fizzling something sweet in your chest at the sight. "And even if you hate every second of it, I'll be here with you, okay? And you can always change your decision," he continues.
"Just because I decided I really wanted to become an idol early in my life doesn't mean you have to decide so quickly too. Everyone's different; you're different. So don't worry too much, okay?"
Your chest warms and your heart soars and you feel like you can breathe again, like you were drowning in the ocean and the waves have finally spat you back onto dry land. You crash back into Juyeon's arms, burying your face into his neck as gratitude spills from you in words and the tightness with which you are holding him.
That's right. As long as you have Juyeon everything will be fine. Because anything that the world throws your way, you can depend on him to guide you and love you and comfort you until nothing hurts anymore, until everything makes sense, until you can face a new day. And it is without a doubt that you'll do exactly the same for him.
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OBEY ME! LESSON 58 DETAILED SUMMARY + DISCUSSIONS/THEORIES
*I wrote this days after the lesson was first posted and never bothered to go back and edit it so meaning there will be me theorizing about the next lesson as well
*I write a small para for each chapter and I write it immediately after finishing that chapter so there’ll be theorizing about the next chapter too
*I swear more than usual here
*Some of the dialogue is heavily plagiarized and a few is lifted directly from the story, the game is to figure which is which.
*Summaries and Discussions/theories for all the other lessons can be found on this blog under #obey me spoilers or #my theories or #my headcanons
This has two locked chapters. So I usually play one chapter and then write a summary for it and then play the next and so on, I don’t come back and edit the summaries or theories I write but this lesson is special enough that I had to come back and write a special intro to it. Hoo BOY! is this something! You think it’s gonna go the usual way with MC solving the problem demon by demon with each of them having some wacky fear and it is like that for a while until it nosedives into TRAUMAtm and ISSUEStm territory and becomes surprisingly dark. And for someone who loves speculating and coming up with theories this whole lesson was a goldmine, Enjoy!
Black mist swirls around the hall, Mammon & Levi shriek and the hall starts rattling until the mist forms pissed off demon Lucifer which makes Asmo yelp (and this is what I mean, the greatest common fear in this group (if you don’t consider Simeon and Lucifer) is probably pissed off demon Lucifer but on their own they’ll probably have different fears.) Levi stutters out that it’s lucifer and real lucifer tells him to calm his tits cause the he is actually with them. MC identifies it as the bogeyman (genius) and it starts shrieking for Mammon and Levi, which leads to Mammon screaming and Levi closing his eyes and chanting ‘no’ as they cling on to Belphie as the entire hall rattles again. Solomon happily tells MC ‘Welp there’s your exam, deal with it.’ Simeon’s slightly more helpful and tells them staying calm is the key. MC says they can do that. Solomon laughs and says that’s the answer he’d expect from his talented apprentice. MC uses a spell “light born of shadow” to repel the spirit, the spell and the spirit makes the wind howl and the hall shake and the spirit growl/groan. To escape the spell it flees into one of the hotel rooms and the hall suddenly becomes eerily quiet. Mammon collapses to his knees and Levi, with his eyes still closed, says he lost 500yrs of his life. Neither of them have still let go off Belphie. Lucifer calls them pathetic for being demons scared of a bogeyman (bro they’re scared of *you* akjdvkdfjjjkdn) Mammon snaps and says he ain’t scared of the bogeyman and Satan asks how he can say that after what they all saw. Levi says it’s not the bogeyman it’s a fully pissed off Lucifer he’s scared of. Mammon still insists he’s not scared. Levi tells him to shut up cause he was so scared he couldn’t stand, Mammon says he just wanted to sit down for a bit. Lucifer calls them pathetic again and Levi protests. Lucifer then says they must find a way to get rid of it for good cause it’ll start to come after each one of them individually. MC says maybe they can admit what they’re all afraid of so that they’ll know what they will be facing ahead of time. Solomon agrees with this plan and tells them to start with the oldest and work their way down, listing their fears. Asmo calls Solomon out on using this as an excuse to find Lucifer’s weaknesses to use later. Solomon smiles and says he’d never do that, Belphie says the look on his face suggests different. Beel says that there’s probably nothing that scares Lucifer and Lucifer says that nothing comes to mind (and this feels like when you’re a child and think your parents are all knowing and invincible only to get a sometimes painful reality check later). Mammon says he doesn’t get scared, Levi calls him a liar and says pissed off demon Lucifer scares him and then he goes on to list fears based off being an otaku (eg: the final ep of a series he loves and etc). Simeon cuts Levi off as his list grows and asks Satan. Satan straight up says “Nothing scares me.” And Simeon smiles and says it takes a lot of confidence to say that (yeah even Lucifer said that in terms of a greatest fear “nothing comes to mind” implying he’s felt fear before and probably had moments of ‘greatest fear’ too. Satan just straight up says nothing at all scares him and I think that shows his age and experience gap compared to Lucifer. Even the way Simeon smiled and said the confidence line felt like he was indulging Satan rather than believing him). Asmo jumps and says being ugly scares him. Beel says he thought about it but he really doesn’t know (with the saddest expression on his face) but he also says a pissed off Satan and Asmo are also pretty scary. Asmo yells at Beel for calling him scary (didn’t Asmo very seriously threaten to rip MC’s heart out in S1? I feel like a lot of people forget this… I’ve seen people say Asmo and Mammon were the only ones who didn’t attack or seriously threaten MC and I’m just like no??? Asmo was definitely ready to kill them and he gets even more pissed if MC says they don’t think he’s the most attractive person. MC doesn’t get the chance to talk back when Asmo threatens them either which makes it seem all the more serious. When Mammon first threatens to eat MC after they first meet he says it in that same over the top way he said he wasn’t scared in this lesson – completely unbelievable. And MC probably catches that too cause they get to talk back and tell him that they literally give no shits about whatever he’s talking about.) Belphie says he used to be afraid of the alarm clock satan gave him which wouldn’t snooze or stop, which he threw away (I feel like they’re greatly underestimating what ‘greatest fear’ means…) Solomon asks MC what scares them the most and the chapter ends. (I HC MC as having heavy abandonment issues, of waking up and finding out this was all a dream and that they’re alone but I doubt OM!’s gonna let them say that)
Asmo’s very excited to find out about MC’s worst fears but Levi says when MC came face to face with the bogeyman and chased it away it didn’t transform which means… Levi smiles and Mammon laughs and goes ‘holy shit you’re scared of Lucifer too!? Asmo points out that Mammon said ‘too’ implying… Mammon vehemently protests. Simeon says that that Luke’s blessing is still active despite it being given some time back and it makes the Bogeyman have no affect on MC. Asmo’s shocked and asks if that isn’t really impressive. Simeon says it is and that Luke’s blessings are so powerful that it even rivals some angels’ higher up in the hierarchy (do you think that’s why Michael has such an interest in Luke despite him having no ranking?) Simeon says Luke himself doesn’t realise how special his power is and MC’s amazed by what a bright future he’ll have. Simeon says he’s looking forward to it. Belphie says once that once Luke grows up he’d be able to banish Mammon with a snap of his fingers (and ansknvjbkdc BELPHIE!? Isn’t this also a self burn you fucking idiot???? Considering Mammon’s the 2nd most powerful and you’re the 7th?????? They really do genuinely forget Mammon’s ranking don’t they?) Mammon asks why Belphie had to pick him to shit on and Levi laughs and says Mammon will totally deserve being banished by an angel. Mammon goes to murder Levi but Lucifer cuts them off saying Barbatos just messaged him saying ‘don’t fucking stand there like fucking idiots kick out the bastard that you lot are responsible for unless you’d rather me come there and rip your fucking innards out you fucking assholes’ MC picks up on a very key fact and says “He’s fucking spying in us!???” Satan says he’s probably watching them at that very moment which creeps Asmo out. Solomon says they should go after it then which has Mammon yelping and Levi protesting. Lucifer says if they all go barging in everything will devolve into chaos and that just a couple should do. Levi laughs about MC being OP cause of Luke’s blessing (love the self awareness) Solomon tells MC to pick who’ll go in with them.
Asmo’s demanding why he got picked and Mammon, smiling happily, says Asmo should consider getting hand-picked by MC an honour, Asmo says they just happened to make eye contact and MC picked him and he can’t help it if MC’s eyes are naturally drawn towards his beauty. (I just realized considering Mammon’s the one MC usually picks for stupid, dangerous adventures so he probably thought he’d get picked and he’s so smiley rn cause he’s relieved). Satan tells Asmo to suck it up and Asmo says it’s easy for them to say since they aren’t been made to go in the room. All sparkly and teary eyed Asmo cries about how his beauty ended up being his undoing. Simeon wishes MC luck and says that should anything go wrong he’ll come in. MC tells Asmo they’ll protect him, Asmo throws himself into their arms and calls them the best. Lucifer tells them to keep their guard up, even with Luke’s blessing. The hotel room looks like someone has used a negative filter on it. Inside Asmo screams and says he can’t take it and that he knows what he’ll see and that an ugly version of himself will be so bad that he’ll have a heart attack and die adding on “I’ll DIE, MC!” at the end for emphasis (wait so bullets won’t kill them but heart attacks are a possibility? Or is this Asmo just being melodramatic?). With tears in his eyes he says he gives up. MC tells him nothing will change how beautiful he is, he agrees but still struggles to argue with it. The black mist then starts forming and Asmo squeaks. With a rumble it shakes the room and transforms. Asmo starts screaming and sobbing about how ugly he looks and how it hurts his eyes. To stop Asmo’s oncoming mental breakdown MC shows him a mirror and he starts cooing over how beautiful he really is but he still says he can’t take it and runs out the room (I like to imagine the bogeyman had to do the bare minimum to make Asmo see a hideous version of himself, like anything less than perfect flawlessness would freak Asmo out.) Back outside Lucifer sounds disappointed that these are some of the most powerful demons in the devildom, Satan calls the whole thing pathetic, and Levi laughs about how they should have known not to trust Asmo with this (..I mean you wouldn’t have done any better either), Mammon mocks Asmo for calling himself a demon, Beel says he’s hungry. Asmo tells them if they’re so much braver than him they should go in. Solomon tells MC to pick the next one. MC happens to make eye contact with Belphie. Without MC even saying a word Belphie realizes what has happened. About Asmo’s fear maybe I’m making it too deep but in S1 and in other places too Asmo talks about how beautiful he was in the Celestial Realm and I always wondered if part of his obsession with his beauty now is because it’s a way to cling on to that, the last thing that he can keep unchanged after his whole world was turned on his head. I think in the very early drafts of OM!, back when the brothers had canonical demonic demon forms as well the writers said Asmo hated his, so it’d make sense after how even his actual form changed he’d cling so desperately onto the human form he shared with his past angelic self.
Belphie asks if they really need him to come, Satan says it’s not like they can let MC go in alone, Belphie says they have Luke’s blessing so they may as well throw them into the sharks (I want to say I really like sharks and am always somewhat upset by the misconception of them as these ruthless killing machines when at most they’re just idiots with bad eyesight) Lucifer says that there’s always the possibility things won’t go as planned, Belphie says then Simeon will just step in (Belphie’s trying so hard guyssss. And like I imagine a majority of it is cause he’s lazy and doesn’t want to deal with this but I also feel like a small part of him knows that something worse than an annoying alarm clock could be waiting in there. I mean your greatest fear can be very personal and for emotionally constipated idiots like this who’ve lived millions of years and fought two wars? I imagine they’d be very private about it.) Simeon says that though that’s the plan it would but an end to MC’s exam. Cause he isn’t part of their additional materials the way the brothers are, says Solomon. Beel begs Belphie to do it for him and that he wants Belphie to keep MC safe. YO! Mammon brings up my point immediately. God I love him. Looking smug, he asks if the truth is that Belphie’s trying so hard to avoid something other than an alarm clock. Belphie looks shocked, then looks to the side and says “No…”. Mammon says then Belphie should be just fine, that it’s an alarm clock and it’s not a big deal (You know and I know that Mammon knows well that it’s not gonna be just an alarm clock, what a shithead picking up on Belphie’s weakness like that and manipulating him when nothing else worked. I love him so much). Belphie agrees to go. Inside the Bogeyman is already forming and a shrill alarm clock starts ringing, until it suddenly stops and everything goes black. Belphie makes a small noise and MC calls his name. He starts asking what’s going on and where MC went, sounding more and more distressed with each question. The wind keeps whistling through. MC says they’re right there. He can’t hear them. He’s now screaming for MC to answer him. Then he starts screaming for MC and Beel. Then for Asmo, Satan, Mammon and Levi. Then for Lucifer. When he gets no reply he says, “This can’t be happening…it can’t be…I…I…” He screams that he can’t take it and that he’s scared, asking where everyone went. MC moves towards his voice and hugs him. He screams for MC and Beel to help him. The chapter ends. This whole scene is haunting. From the bitch black screen, to the whistling wind being the only thing you can hear, to hearing Belphie who’s usually so unaffected start screaming for his family just? How it all started with the shrill screams of the alarm clock which just abruptly stopped. It came outta nowhere. I honestly didn’t think they’d do something like that and I’m shaking imagining what the others might see. I’m 100% sure that Belphie used all his energy to focus on the alarm clock so that the bogeyman wouldn’t pick up on this darker fear and that’s why the alarm clock went off at first. I initially thought Belphie’s real fear will be something directly related to the second war but this makes so much more sense, it makes sense that after losing Lilith his biggest fear would be losing the rest of his family and being alone and just wow I’m??? I love that they did this. It hurt to see but it was desperately needed.
Back outside Asmo and Belphie are both silent and depressed. Beel quietly calls Belphie’s name, saying all the colour has drained from his face and asking if he’s okay. Asmo whines about how Beel only cares about Belphie and hasn’t even checked up on him. Mammon says they both do look pretty awful and Satan says they look like Levi and Mammon did after seeing Lucifer’s pissed demon form. Levi says not to even bring it up. Beel asks what happened inside the room and Belphie says nothing. Beel orders (the key word here is ‘orders’ and it’s so different from his usual self that it was great to see what he becomes when the people he loves are hurt) that MC tell him what happened (and look on one hand it’s important to keep Belphie’s privacy and to not say anything without his consent, on the other hand he will NEVER tell anyone this, something he’s been bottling up for thousands of years, and he really should talk it over with them. Personally I think they should take him aside later and talk it over with him and then if he wants let him approach the others). MC can say “the truth is that…” or “…”. For the first he gets really pissed off and yells at MC to stop. He then takes a step back and apologizes and says he doesn’t want them telling the others anything. For the second Belphie quietly thanks them. He then says it wasn’t a big deal and something happened that he wasn’t expecting. He smiles and tells Beel not to look at him like that. Beel still can’t get over it and still looks furious, saying that he doesn’t know what happened but he knows it really messed Belphie up and he’s not letting it get away with that. He says he’s gonna destroy it and calls MC after him. Inside the room it’s dead quiet. Beel says again he’s not sure what he’s scared of but even if it turns into an angry Asmo or Satan they need to attack it without any hesitation. He says that whatever that thing did to Belphie it terrified him and that they need to make it pay. All of a sudden there’s a flash of light and long groans as the room shakes and the mist forms. Beel tells MC to attack it using his power before it can transform and MC commands him, Beel says his power is theirs to command and everything he does is for them and Belphie. Beel uses a spell to send a bolt of light towards it and for a second it seems to shrink into itself before it comes back stronger and holy shit holy shit holy shit GUYS!!!!! There’s a flash of light and they’re in front of the Celestial Palace except everything is on fire asdjkjdfjcusjosdsjdj FUCK. The bolt Beel had previously sent to the bogeyman instead pierces through the chest of angel!Belphie (FUCK!!?) Beel screams and then screams for Belphie. “Don’t take away my brother too! I can’t bare to lose anyone else…!” MC tries to tell him he hasn’t lost anyone but Beel protests saying he’s attack hit Belphie and now he’s… Beel’s unable to finish that sentence. He then looks at MC and starts pleading with them not to go, again saying that he’s begging them not to go anywhere. They tell him that they’re right here with him. He tells them he’s scared. The chapter ends. AND WTF!!!!????? They really went there huh? I’ve been screaming about the trauma Lilith’s death would have lead to since maybe Mammon & Luke’s train lesson but they really are bringing it up now huh!? I’m just holy shit.
They’re back in the hotel room with the mist swirling around them and at the screams Belphie comes running into the room and tries to span Beel outta it (and isn’t it sweet given how reluctant he was to go in and how shaken up he was after that he’d come tunning in for Beel). Levi comes in next with his eyes closed and stuttering but wanting to be there for Beel, then Asmo with tears in his eyes saying they’re not gonna abandon their “adorable little brother” despite how scared they are. Mammon comes in next, red faced and also with his eyes shut and asking Beel where he is, Lucifer comes in after telling Beel to focus and stay with them. (guys they’re all such good brothers I can’t deal). Beel seems genuinely touched that they all came for him. The Bogeyman flares and seems to grow again and Satan puts himself in between it and the others, angry that it had messed with his brothers and saying it was up against him now and he wasn’t scared of anything. The think groans and the room shakes and they’re in the coliseum like place in the Devildom (the place where Diavolo said he found Lucifer with Lilith after they fell) and everything around them is on fire again. Mammon asks if it’s turning into Lucifer again and Belphie says it looks like it is. It turns in to angel Lucifer (oh boy…I actually stood up and walked away. Satan…….dude….holy shit?). Satan gasps as the reveal and I genuinely think he didn’t know it was coming unlike Belphie. The name reads Lucifer (?) and I’m gonna just directly quote what he says. Also Angel Lucifer surrounded by fire and this pale purple aura with a kinda blank yet pissed off and judgmental expression while tense lowkey creepy music plays is actually kinda scary? I think it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be an angel but he looks genuinely scarier than when it transformed into demon Lucifer… Anyway: “…Satan, you fool. It’s time you learned your place. Because in the end, you’re nothing more than an inferior copy of me. You must already realize that.” Satan growls at him to shut up but he continues, “I know you, I know how you think. Because you were modeled after me. I was the original.” Satan says, “…Stop it.” It laughs and says while smiling, “It seems you don’t want to admit it, do you? You don’t want to but you have no choice. You hate it and you hate yourself. You’re consumed with self-loathing, aren’t you?” Satan screams at it to stop. Screaming that it’s not true and then screaming shut up over and over at an increasing volume. Lucifer, real Lucifer, tries calling Satan’s name, telling him to get ahold of himself. This shocks Satan out of it for a while. Lucifer goes up to him saying, “Satan, I need you to listen to me. You and I are not the same. You’re not me, and I’m not you.” He says his hobby is music while Satan prefers reading and that Satan loves cats but Lucifer would pick dogs. “You’re not a copy of me. No… You’re my brother.” He says he’s the brother to Lucifer, the avatar of pride and that he’s Satan the avatar of wrath. He asks if that isn’t his name. Satan is speechless after that. He turns to MC and asks them to tell him who he is. “You’re Lucifer’s younger brother, Satan.” This makes him laugh. He agrees with them. Saying he’s Satan. “No one else, just Satan.” He tells MC to use their pact. MC uses a spell to lend power to Satan and he uses that for a spell to banish the bogeyman. There’s a bright flash and everything turns white. (Holy shit Satan….the fact that it was angel Lucifer who was his worst fear and not normal Lucifer, that it was angel Lucifer’s judgment he feared? And I think I said this in two of the other summaries too but Satan’s the only brother Lucifer didn’t choose. Lucifer as an angel chose all his siblings and practically adopted them into his growing family. Satan was the only one who just came along and who Lucifer had no choice but to keep. Do you think that could be one of the reasons why it was angel Lucifer he specifically feared? Everyone else was with angel Lucifer in the celestial realm and fought by his side except Satan, Satan was never even an angel. He was always a demon who angels were taught to hate. Do you think it’s possible that he thinks that if angel Lucifer had the choice he wouldn’t have chosen Satan and brought him t the family? And that’s why the fairies thought he needed to meet angel Lucifer and hear him say he wished he had a brother like Satan. Also is it just me but does Satan have imposter syndrome vibes? Like the feeling that everything he achieves is cause he’s a shade of Lucifer and Lucifer’s just naturally perfect so he always has to work even harder to be better than Lucifer to prove he’s his own person.)
They’re back in the hotel room, except now all the colours are back to normal. Mammon asks what happened, Beel asks if it was destroyed and Belphie tells Satan his last spell was really impressive, Asmo tells Satan that he’s amazing and that he made his heart race, Lucifer says it was excellent and says well done. (lowkey disappointed we didn’t see Lucifer’s greatest fear but whatever). Satan dismisses all of it, saying it wasn’t a big deal and trying to move on and turn attention on how he’s gonna convert all the leftover emotion he has after having his vulnerabilities forcefully displayed in front of everyone into anger so he can murder Levi and Mammon. The two yelp and make a break for it. The other 3 also give chase, with even Beel saying he wants to take a bite outta them, while Mammon and Levi scream about how they’re gonna get eaten (…what would the other guests think…). Solomon follows the 6 of them happily to watch the carnage. Simeon asks if Lucifer wasn’t going to chase after them and he says he’d run himself ragged if he chased after them each time they fucked up. The two of them then congratulate MC and they say they couldn’t have done it without a.) Satan. Simeon says it was them who was able to draw such immense power from him and that their talent was impressive. B.) all of them, Lucifer laughs and says that some of them weren’t any help at all. Lucifer’s smile then slips and he tells them to wait a minute and sike that bitch is back! It has barely any strength left and is making one last attempt. Everything flashes white and it transforms into a bright light streaming from the window. The next two are direct quotes. Simeon: …! That light- Lucifer: Simeon, calm down. This one’s “mine”. Lucifer transforms into his demon form, saying something that transforms into your deepest fear is something he could live without. He says, “And here I’m thinking we would never meet again.” And I feel like he’s talking to the ‘light’ and not the bogeyman they thought they killed. He tells MC to use his power. They do and Lucifer uses the same spell as Satan and the bogeyman is finally killed. Simeon is silent and looks upset. Lucifer says they killed the last of it and they should be safe. He says it’s a good thing MC was there next to him or it might have ended very badly. Simeon’s still silent and Lucifer refuses to make eye contact with him. He says he’s going to check on his brothers and says he’ll see them later. Simeon’s silent and now looks thoughtful and MC can ask him a.) If something’s wrong. He apologizes and says he’s fine and then sighs and says “Oh, am I?” b.) they wonder if Lucifer’s okay. Simeon says he’ll be fine because Lucifer is strong and then quietly adds “…unlike me…” C.) they ask what that light was. “Not what.” Says Simeon, “who…”. Okay there’s so much to talk about I think my brain died. 1st – Simeon is stunned when the light first appears and Lucifer has to tell him to calm down that the light was his fear. Which meant Simeon thought the bogeyman was reacting to him and showing him his own fear and that means Simeon and Lucifer’s worst fear is the same thing and Lucifer knew this as well. Now you could say Simeon thought this light was the real deal and not the bogeyman and that’s why he reacted that way and that’s why Lucifer told him it’s just his fear BUT Lucifer said beforehand that the bogeyman had not been killed an they all see the mist forming and the room shaking and the thing groaning before the light is formed so it’d be hard to make that mistake. Plus simeon’s “unlike me” line seals it and pretty much confirms that Simeon and Lucifer share the same greatest fear. And I said earlier that I believed the bogeyman acted on the common fear of everyone it could affect but both Simeon and Lucifer were sure it was their own fear that was taking shape, plus the bogeyman only had enough strength for one last target, so yeah the ‘light’ is definitely both of their individual greatest fears. 2nd – who was it. MC’s being talking with a voice in the light every once in a while and I always assumed it was Michael cause he seems to have the same position in the celestial realm that Diavolo has in the Devildom. But why would Michael be Lucifer’s greatest fear? It’d make more sense for Lucifer’s greatest fear to be his Father but that’d mean MC’s being chatting with God this whole time and that’s absolutely fucking insane and I’m not even gonna consider that further. So Lucifer’s greatest fear is (probably) Michael but why? Because of what he represents? Because of what happened with Lilith and their Fall? Because he could threaten Diavolo’s plans for harmony? Because of some other unknown trauma? 3rd – What happened to Simeon? We know he was a seraphim who was demoted for some reason. We know he stole from Michael and was caught and Michael called him back to face some sort of consequences. We know after this he was stationed semi-permanently in the human world for some unknown reason. We know he’s meeting with angels (probably raphael) here in the human world. But what happened that made the angels or Michael his greatest fear? What did he mean by Lucifer being strong unlike him? Personally I think despite the Celestial Realm saying they cast the brothers out, the brothers actually fled after Lilith was struck. I think Lucifer asked Simeon to come with him and I think Simeon denied him and instead helped them escape and this lead to his demotion. We know from that one devilgram that after meeting Diavolo for the first time Lucifer realizes the Celestial Realm nor his Father particularly care for peace with the Devildom, while Diavolo’s actively seeking it and that demons and the devildom are not like what he believes they are. The more Lucifer meets with Diavolo the more he learns about the Devildom and the rest of the world, as Mammon said about Luke, he learns about the real world, how the angels aren’t always right and how there’s more to everything than the Celestial Realm and so the more disillusioned with the Celestial Realm he becomes. As Simeon was his closest friend he might have relayed this all to him, or at least given a vague idea of what he’s starting to see and Simeon in turn starts seeing things from Lucifer’s perspective or more accurately he starts seeing the whole picture (and this is what Barbatos means when he says Simeon is likeable because he’s different from the other angels) unlike Lucifer though this doesn’t make him angry at or resentful of the celestial realm – it just opens his eyes up to its faults but that doesn’t mean he loves all the good parts of it any less – So when Lucifer offers him the chance to leave (the way Simeon himself sees it) he’s never strong enough to take that leap. Or that’s at least my theory of what happened till the next lessons clear it up.
Simeon is still silent and looking upset and then he laughs and apologizes because he can’t seem to stop trembling (and okay first wtf? Also so the theory about Lucifer and Simeon sharing a greatest fear was right. But also what the fuck did Michael do that’s made Simeon tremble? Though the first time the brothers spoke of Michael Mammon said he still shook thinking about his punishments… But would Michael do anything like that to someone who used to be a fellow Seraphim? Was that light really Michael or was it the Big Guytm cause that’ll be terrifying I don’t want to deal with that…). MC asks him if he’s okay. He says he appreciates their concern ands says it’s just that the light was just a sight he hadn’t seen in a long time AND WAIT!? SO IT WASN’T MICHAEL!!??? IT ACTUALLY WAS GOD!!!??? I’M WHEEZING AND NOT IN THE LAUGHING WAY WTFFFF HOLY SHIT SERIOUSLY!!!??? AND WAIT SO MC’S TALKED TO A VOICE IN A LIGHT ABOUT THRICE NOW??? WHO THE FUCK WAS THAT!??? PLS TELL ME AT LEAST THAT WAS MICHAEL!? I’D LOSE MY SHIT IF IT TURNS OUT MC’S BEING COMMUNICATING WITH GOD HELP-  I’m okay. I’m good. I took a walk. Simeon’s still trembling and MC hugs him. Simeon blushes and says humans have a strange warmth to them. He says that sometimes he wonders if MC would make a better angel than him (which supports my ‘not strong enough’ theory in the previous paragraph). He holds them back tightly. He says there’s something he wants to tell them and says I- before Asmo screaming for MC to come watch them torture Levi & Mammon cuts him off (would he confess to them again? He did it before and it seemed done when they rejected him and he backed off. I guess emotions are more complex than that). He looks upset at the interruption but covers it with a smile and says it seems like they’re wanted. He asks them to drop by the café later and says they can continue the discussion then. The two of them are hung up upside down, Mammon’s screaming to be let down and Levi’s sobbing and screaming at Mammon not to throw a temper tantrum right next to him. Diavolo says they make an interesting chandelier but that they don’t fit with their interior design. Mammon screams at him to then fucking let them down. Barbatos suggests a muzzle. Satan suggest shutting them up with their fists and Belphie says it’s too much work and that they’ll juest wear themselves out. Beel says there’s a style of cooking in the human world like this. Lucifer says these two don’t look appetizing and that he’d rather have actual churrasco. Solomon welcomes MC back and gives them the star of humility. He says they are now officially a sorcerer. Diavolo and Barbatos both congratulate them. Asmo says they’re amazing and that he’s even more smitten with them. Belphie says he’s really impressed and says good for them. Beel says he’s really happy for them and says nice going. Satan says “MC the Sorcerer” has a nice ring to it. Lucifer says well done. MC thanks them all. Solomon says nothing makes him happier than seeing his apprentice become a full-fledged sorcerer. Mammon yells that he wants to be part of the celebration too and to let him down, Levi says he’s going to be sick. And the chapter and the entire lesson ends.
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honeymoonjin · 3 years
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pairing: jimin x yoongi || genre: smut - nsfw 18+ word count: 6.7k warnings: dom!jimin, sub!yoongi, exhibitionism, BDSM, sub!jk feature very briefly, masochism, pain play, impact play, spanking, orgasm control/denial, untouched orgasm, frotting (i hope that’s right, i had to google it), crying during sex but in a fun liberating way u feel me, praise, mean-mugging, pet names
summary: jimin is used to keeping his professional bdsm life and his domestic married life separate, but when his husband yoongi comes in after a hard day at work, he wants to blur those lines. 
A/N: i wrote this for the lovely and talented @joonsbean​ so thank her for inspiring me to actually write something, also this is unedited bc i just sat down for 6 hours to write this and i am not willing to stare at it a moment longer
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After a particularly resonant flick of the whip, Jimin eyes the way Jungkook's calves tense, left foot tapping the floor in an uneven stutter. He's starting to really feel it now.
He absentmindedly reaches his hand out to smooth the reddened flesh of Jungkook's ass, gently cooing at him quiet enough that his rapt audience won't hear. While the eager submissive was the biggest masochist of the regulars, and he was likely miles away from safewording, as a friend Jimin knew the long-haired boy had three hours of lectures the next day. He'd probably relish the sore ass and take it like a champ, but Jimin was soft on him, so he knew it was time to wrap it up.
Tilting his chin towards the dark, almost purplish streak just above Jungkook's thigh, he raises his voice to address the onlookers. "As you can see, when there's only one fall, like with a whip or a switch, the impact feels a lot sharper and concentrated. The thinner it is, that effect is only amplified. For that reason, I really recommend against switches and whips as a first-timer or if you're testing it out." Jimin can't help but beam at the way every person in the crowd listens to his spiel with clear enthusiasm. He got off on this kind of spotlight in a different way to the usual exhibitionism. Sharing his passion never failed to cheer him up. "Even though floggers can look more intense, as we saw when we were starting out, the impact is more distributed, more of a thud than a sting. Now," he breaks off, giving Jungkook's tender ass a final playful swat, making the boy jump, knuckles white as they clench the back of the chair he's bent over, "let's give our little prince a big round of applause for being so helpful for us today."
Jungkook positively keens at the cheers and wolf whistles that erupt from the crowd of at least thirty, his back arching and face buried between his meaty upper arms to hide the blush. Jimin gently massages the heated skin one last time, whispering instructions to head off to the side where his usual dom, Namjoon, was no doubt waiting.
The two had been playing for almost a year now, but Namjoon was still hesitant to venture into the heavier sadism that Jungkook sometimes needed, and the three of them had found a happy medium where Jungkook helped Jimin out with demonstrations, and Jimin indulged Jungkook's occasional desire for more intense pain play. As a thank you, Namjoon even helped Jimin out with his taxes just the month before, and Jimin quite often allowed them to reserve their favourite play rooms out of courtesy. A mutually beneficial arrangement, and it certainly came in handy to have Namjoon deal with aftercare while Jimin still had his demonstration to wind up.
Swinging the chair that Jungkook was previously bent over, Jimin takes a seat facing the audience and quirks a brow. "Alrighty, before we wrap up and I set you back into the wild, any questions?"
This line always had very different responses. Once, on a basic self-bondage informational session, there were so many single kinksters interested that there ended up being almost an hour of questioning, followed by an impromptu tutorial of safe handcuff use. More commonly, Jimin fielded a few confirming questions about what he'd shown, or something related but not overly relevant to the main topic at hand. More often than not, though, he'd find a string of people awkwardly hovering around him after the crowd had dissipated, too nervous to ask their question in front of the others.
This time, however, a single hand is thrust into the air, coming from the rough back third of the gathering.
"Yes?" Jimin calls out, squinting past the few stage lights and into the darkened crowd. He can't quite make out the face, but as soon as the rumbly voice begins to speak, he doesn't need the visual to recognise it.
"I was just wondering," his husband calls out, "could I speak to you in private?"
Jimin is so startled to hear Yoongi that for a moment he freezes on stage, totally silent. Never once had his husband of four years step a single foot into the dungeon Jimin worked at. Not intolerant of the kink world, Yoongi was simply paranoid about being recognised - a renowned human rights lawyer showing up to a BDSM dungeon dressed in leathers was a tabloid field day waiting to happen - and was happy for Jimin to continue working there whenever he wished.
Now, though, that unspoken rule that had kept these two worlds of Jimin's separate had shattered with a single question, and he felt cold shock drip down his spine.
"Uh," he begins eloquently, blinking himself out of it and plastering a collected smile on again, "of course! I'll be right with you once the show ends."
Jimin closes the session in a daze, answering a few questions about physical aftercare and the best materials and brands for impact play equipment on autopilot. It feels like an eternity passing in a single second, and before he's even processed it, the audience have moved on, and his husband is placing a gentle kiss of greeting on his temple, the same way he would when he'd get home from work in the evenings.
Mere minutes after he'd been in his usual dominant persona, Jimin feels himself melting like candy floss in Yoongi's arms, wrapping around him in their usual casual intimacy. "How are you here?" Jimin asks softly, snaking his arms under Yoongi's slate grey suit jacket, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, even through the expensive cotton shirt. "You're still dressed for work, baby."
Yoongi tenses slightly, gazing around the room. A few people are still milling around in small groups, chatting, but this close to the stage, him and Jimin are out of earshot. Still, he speaks lowly, dipping into the Daegu drawl that only makes an appearance when he's too stressed to think clearly. "I took a sick day. Or, I suppose, sick afternoon," he corrects, brows pinched together. "Had to get out. Can we- Is there a place we can have some privacy, please?"
Wide-eyed, Jimin jumps up out of Yoongi's embrace. "Oh, definitely, sorry!" He tamps down his rising concern by hooking his arm around Yoongi's, locking their fingers tightly as he leads his husband out of the auditorium and down a hall.
Being a matinee opening, the dungeon isn't too packed. Jimin prefers working the day shifts, likes that everything feels a little more personal and open. Nights, especially themed ones, get so busy that the gear and rooms have to be booked sometimes weeks in advance. Jimin does his fair share of DMing (they need all the help they can get) but doesn't like to run any scenes himself in the relative chaos.
But at 2pm on a Tuesday, it's easy enough to slip into one of the private rooms, switching the sign to occupied. There's no lock on the door for safety purposes, but nobody will dare enter while it's taken.
Yoongi steps in, eying the room with surprise. It's a relatively open space, with the walls lined with bookcases on one end, and a large wooden desk with some filing cabinets on the other. The desk itself has a comfortable-looking desk chair, and the opposite side has a single leather armchair like something from a therapist's office.
Although there is a wide window, it's covered with blinds, and Jimin knows from experience that it opens directly onto a brick wall for privacy. Instead, the room is lit from above with ceiling lights that are adjustable by a dimmer. Jimin leaves it bright.
Yoongi slowly makes his way to the black leather armchair, sitting down on it and leaning forward to inspect the desk. Absurdly large, it is mostly uncovered except for a diary with some unreadable scrawls on it, an ancient laptop that doesn't turn on, and a ruler. "Is this your office?" Yoongi asks incredulously.
Jimin cackles before he can help himself, moving forward to perch on the edge of the desk in front of Yoongi. "Does it look like I'd get anything done here? It's a play room, baby."
"Play room?" his husband replies dully, but Jimin doesn't miss the way his eyes are zoned in on Jimin's body, the intimidating leather jacket fixed with a tightly buckled belt around his waist, the skintight black jeans that barely contained his thighs, and perfectly glossed black dress shoes, his calling card amongst the typical stomping boots or knife-thin stilettos that most other doms wore. He always got dressed at the dungeon, leaving the house in unassuming sweatpants and a hoodie, so he gets no little satisfaction in relishing his husband's first reaction to the getup.
"That's right," he confirms with a smirk, crossing his legs. "We have five of them at the moment, though the sixth one is almost ready for use. This one is for your typical CEO or professor roleplays, we have a medical one, an interrogation one," Jimin rattles them off on his fingers, watching the way Yoongi's eyes bug out at each addition, "just a basic bedroom one for the vanilla stuff, one that actually looks like a dungeon, and the new one is gonna be an outdoor one."
"Outdoor?" Yoongi asks with a unsteady voice, before shaking his head to clear the thoughts. "Anyway, here is fine, I just- I had to get away from work, Minnie, and I... I was thinking..."
Jimin frowns in sympathy, leaning forward to stroke the back of Yoongi's hand. "I can leave early, I don't have anything else booked today, I was mostly planning on sticking to the social lounge-"
"I don't wanna go home," Yoongi slips in hurriedly, flipping his hand on the arm of the chair to link their fingers together tightly, though his eyes don't leave Jimin's for a second. "I know that you like to keep this job and our own love life separate, and I'm not going to force you, but- I came here because I want to submit to you."
Jimin's eyes widen, his breath catching in his chest. A switch at heart, Jimin had always found it a nice balance to indulge his dominant side here at work, and return home for Yoongi to take care of him, and it had always worked well. Even before they were serious, right in the early days of fucking like rabbits and pretending they weren't entirely smitten, Yoongi had always easily taken that more dominant role, though most of their sex to this day was far less kinky than the kind of demonstrations Jimin ran here. What Yoongi was asking wasn't just to be pampered and taken care of, but to be taken control of. And Jimin couldn't deny the ball of heat that was quickly building inside of him at that thought.
"Baby," he sighs, forcing himself to keep professionalism in mind, "I can't- We can't do anything here without you filling out some paperwork. The list of kinks and limits at the least. Not just as an employee, but as your husband, I gotta keep you safe."
"I know," Yoongi insists, and he frees his hand from Jimin's grip just long enough to plunge a hand into his pants pocket, pulling out a tightly folded piece of paper, handing it to Jimin.
Oddly enough, the folds are worn, not crisp, and as Jimin unfolds it, the text - printed in 12 point Times New Roman, because of course Yoongi would type it up with perfect formatting - has lost the freshly-printed gloss.
"I've been working up the courage to come here for months, Jimin-ah," Yoongi explains in a shy but determined voice. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to feel pressured at all either way, but please know that this is something that I've researched, and that I'm serious about." His solemn expression turns slightly cheeky, almost impish. "You literally make a living domming people, Minnie. I've been fantasising about it long before I even realised I wanted it."
A thrill of arousal runs through Jimin, straight between his legs, and he tightens his thighs, taking a settling breath. "Oh, baby," he coos, eyes dropping to read Yoongi's well-documented and organised list of kinks and limits, scanning over some surprising - and not-so-surprising - tidbits, "I'm gonna take such good care of you."
The air rushes out of Yoongi's lungs as he unconsciously scoots forward in the chair, leaning in. "Do we- Do we just start now, or do you need to go get some-" he breaks off, blushing violently, "some equipment?"
Jimin breaks into a broad smile, eyes crinkling as he steps forward, steps close, ringed fingers slipping into Yoongi's hair on either side, tipping his husband's face up as his chin rests on Jimin's lower abdomen. "Oh, my big boy wants to play with some toys, huh?" Jimin can feel when Yoongi swallows hard, his eyes not glossy with subspace, instead keen and sharp with pointed desire. "Don't worry, baby, this room isn't as empty as you think."
When he steps away, dropping all contact, Yoongi slumps like a puppet with cut strings, catching himself before he slips off the chair, instead lying back against it, chest heaving beneath the starch white of his dress shirt.
Jimin makes his way first to the bookshelves, looking back over his shoulder to catch Yoongi's reaction as he finds a notch in the framing and pulls, revealing that they aren't real shelves at all, simply disguised cabinets that swing open to reveal the hidden delights inside. The three closest to the desk are filled with clothes of all sizes, office-wear spanning pencil skirts to neckties to blazers, a few frumpy pieces that remind Jimin of dorky professors, even some school uniforms, cut far shorter than regulation.
With a grin, Jimin pulls at a pleated plaid skirt, smirking at Yoongi. "In the mood for dress-up, baby? Show off those pretty legs of yours."
Yoongi, still with some wits about him, narrows his eyes with a mock scowl, his disapproval clear.
Jimin sighs out wistfully, but lets it go. "Another time, maybe." Ignoring Yoongi's light scoff, he nudges the doors shut with his foot one at a time and moves to the last one, where the facade of stacked books hides a series of hooks nailed into the back wall.
Jimin doesn't need to even face Yoongi to know he's squirming in his chair - the squeaking leather gives it away. Strung up are floggers, whips, switches, and neatly coiled bundles of rope, catalogued by length. His husband had expressed interest in both impact play and bondage, several different types of both, and so it's no surprise that the sight of those fantasies had Yoongi breathing heavily. He leaves that cupboard open.
"There are so many things we could play with in here, baby," Jimin assures, patting the folded piece of paper that he'd slipped into his own pocket, "and your list was pretty extensive, so before we get started, any particular preference?"
Yoongi swallows again, hair slightly rucked up from Jimin's hands. Jimin can't wait to see it totally mussed up, see his husband in ruins, see him love it. With wary eyes on Jimin as he moves behind the desk towards the filing cabinets, Yoongi nods. "The- what you were doing with that guy on stage. I- I want that."
Jimin blinks, turning his back to his husband to mask his surprise, fingers hooking the edge of the top drawer of one of the cabinets, each one labelled alphabetically. "Is that so? We did a lot on that stage, baby, I'm afraid you'll have to be more specific."
Yoongi is silent for a moment, his breathing the only sound as Jimin carefully slides the drawer open, revealing neatly sectioned rows of anal plugs. He grins. A for Anal, B for Bondage, C for Chastity. The designers really took their job seriously, and he could appreciate the humour in it.
He lets Yoongi take his time, knowing that saying something is often the hardest part. Instead, he notes the location of the drawer marked P, and turns back to his husband.
Looking incredibly small, tucked up on the intentionally oversized armchair, Yoongi clears his throat, making shy eye contact. "The paddles," he says in a high tone, like he's unsure he's even using the correct word, "I want you to- to hit me with them like you did him."
"You want me to spank that pretty little ass of yours?" Jimin confirms, loving the way his husband goes bright pink.
"Y-yeah," he replies breathily, dropping his gaze. "Will you?"
Despite the raging fire inside him, Jimin's heart leaps fondly, so in love with his husband and all his endearing mannerisms. "Of course, baby. But let's start slow, hm? Gotta make your first time special, don't we?"
Yoongi laughs, then, full of air and barely audible, his lips lilting in a small smile that still shows his teeth.
Jimin tilts his head to the side. "What?"
With a tiny head shake, Yoongi contains his grin. "I just really wanna kiss you right now."
Jimin is moving before he's even finished speaking, his hip barely missing the corner of the desk in his haste to join his husband, knees straddling his lap without hesitation, holding those soft cheeks in both hands as he presses his lips firmly against Yoongi's, eyes fluttering shut.
Their parting kiss before Yoongi left for work this morning feels too long ago, and for a moment their new arrangement is forgotten as they fall into their usual motions, years of marriage making every inch of Yoongi's lips feel familiar, the bump of their noses and brush of eyelashes like home even in such a different environment.
With no rush, Jimin lets himself indulge in it, burying one hand in Yoongi's hair, carding through the choppy black locks that are no longer gelled back. His other hand slides down Yoongi's jaw, neck, and chest, tugging at the knot of his tie to loosen it. He makes no effort to be gentle, and his husband just groans into Jimin's mouth at the rough treatment.
It's all too easy to shift into his dom space, a practiced scale of gradually increasing intensity. It begins with the tie, but soon enough Jimin punctuates their ongoing kiss with hard sucks and quick nips of teeth, Yoongi tipping his chin up to drown in it more. Testing the waters, Jimin rocks his hips once against Yoongi's taut crotch and yanks once on a fistful of hair, baring the pale expanse of Yoongi's neck.
The debauched lawyer bucks beneath him, hands flying to grip tightly at Jimin's waist. His long, beautiful fingers and wide palm have always made Jimin feel weak at the knees, and feeling them grasp at him not in command but in desperation feels addictive.
"You like that?" he breathes, voice low enough to almost growl, and Yoongi shivers as he nods his affirmation. "Good," Jimin praises, and dives down, teeth grazing down the sensitive skin of Yoongi's throat, skimming until he feels the throb of his pulse point. Yoongi can't risk marks at work, certainly not in court, but it's a Friday, and Jimin is feeling more possessive than usual. He nips lightly but laps at the skin thoroughly, knowing the best he can get away with is a reddened bite mark which would fade over the weekend. The hickies were best saved for other areas, he knew.
Yoongi is panting like a horse now, air punched through his nostrils as he bites down hard on his own swollen lip. Jimin knows the effect he has on his subs, and grins against the glistening wet skin of Yoongi's neck at the hardness that has grown between his legs. "Wuh-want more, Minnie," he gasps out, "need more."
Jimin hums, making sure Yoongi can feel the vibrations in the hollow of his throat, sliding up to press kisses to that hyper-sensitive place just behind Yoongi's ear that always made him tremble.
It doesn't disappoint, Yoongi letting out a shaky breath as his arms wrap around Jimin's waist, trying to bring him closer.
Jimin doesn't let him, though, pulling back to sit on his haunches, running a thumb down Yoongi's reddened lower lip to watch the way it springs back into place. Yoongi sits still, eyes cloudy as he lets his dom for the night play with him. The thought pleases Jimin; that Yoongi truly was wanting this, truly was willing to give up control to him.
He spares a glance down between his own thighs, where the cool grey of Yoongi's slacks makes no attempt at hiding his bulging erection. Pouting in sympathy, Jimin reaches out with a single finger to trace the outline, watching the muscles in his husband's thighs tense as he fights to stay still. "So hard already, baby," Jimin drawls, "do you think that pretty little cock of yours can wait its turn while I spank you, hm? Can it be patient for me?"
Yoongi flushes, whining Jimin's name under his breath. "Yes," he admits, huffing out a reluctant sigh.
"Yes what?"
Yoongi grimaces at Jimin, but the dom just raises an expectant brow. "Yes, my- my pretty little cock can be patient for you," Yoongi murmurs in the quietest voice he can manage, cheeks red hot.
"That's my boy," Jimin beams, rewarding his husband by popping the button and pulling down the zip on the fly of Yoongi's slacks, releasing some of the pressure. Yoongi groans, deep in his throat, but his relief is quickly thwarted once Jimin stands up off him.
Making his way back to the filing cabinets, Jimin quickly slides open the one labeled P. Splayed out neatly lie five different paddles. Three are plastic, one a basic rounded shape, another that same shape only with several small holes drilled through for a sharper impact, and a final one a rectangular shape. The next one is hard wood, heavy, Jimin recalls, and the one tucked at the back is a softly upholstered pleather one for beginners. Then there's the ruler, of course, though that's a little cheesy for the current mood.
He assesses the five inside at his leisure, knowing every moment of anticipation will feel like an eternity to his husband, and finally makes a choice. He slides the cabinet drawer closed.
Yoongi makes a wounded, cut-off noise in his throat, but Jimin sends him a firm gaze.
"I'll give you what you want, baby," Jimin assures, wetting his lips, "but first I want to feel you myself. Pants and underwear off, jacket off, I want you bent over my desk."
Yoongi sucks in a sudden breath, but stands up on wobbly legs and slips off his blazer. It's probably too expensive to be dumping it on the chair behind him, but Yoongi clearly isn't worried about that as he kicks off his shoes and pants too, only hesitating once his fingers are hooked on the elastic waistband of his underwear.
"Off," Jimin demands harshly, "I won't ask again."
This time Yoongi obeys without delay, and Jimin takes great pleasure in watching the way his husband's cock leaps up once it's freed, pretty and pink and wetter than he'd ever seen it before. Though Yoongi always tended to top, his cock was smaller - more slender, at least - than Jimin's, but he loved it, loved that a hasty three fingers was enough prep on those times that they just couldn't wait to devour each other.
Now, though, with mussed hair and wrinkled shirt, naked from the waist down bar a pair of black ankle socks, Jimin's husband looked positively adorable in the most erotic way, and Jimin wanted nothing more than to make him wait, make him work to cum.
When Yoongi folds himself over the desk, side-on to Jimin to make use of the length of the surface, his hands awkwardly hover on either side of him, keeping himself slightly upright still. The back of his shirt is just long enough to cover the tops of his cheeks, and the sight of his rounded ass and dripping cock peeking through is enough to make Jimin actively restrain himself, taking a moment to breathe and appreciate this opportunity.
He steps forward, planting a hand between Yoongi's shoulder blades and presses, slow enough that Yoongi has time to move his face to the side to avoid banging his chin, but firm enough that there's no resisting. Yoongi goes willingly, however, his back arching as the table is just lower than his hips. Like this, no fabric obstructs Jimin's view, and he hums, pleased. "Good boy."
Yoongi trembles, his legs tight together and knees shaking just slightly. He's nervous at the vulnerable position, but no less aroused for it.
With the tip of his shoe, Jimin guides Yoongi's legs apart, until his socked feet are wider than his hips, until he needs to lean his weight onto the desktop to keep stable.
"That's it," Jimin praises, "my perfect little slut. So obedient."
Yoongi's right knee buckles at the exact moment that he hears the pet name, and Jimin grins. The piece of paper in his pocket had a long list of suggestions for names he was okay being called, and the dom couldn't resist picking out his favourite. The perfect mix of praise and degradation, it flowed so well on his tongue; the smooth, melodic sounds punctuated by the sharp hit of the t. Slut. Jimin muffles a groan, pressing on his own straining erection.
Unable to help himself, he reaches out, both hands grabbing at the plush ass cheeks in front of him, spreading them to watch the way Yoongi clenches at the sudden exposure. This must be what he looks like when they play together, Jimin thinks. He wonders if Yoongi is enjoying the change in pace just as much as he is.
"I'm going to start you off with just my hands, baby," he introduces, running a palm under the hem of his shirt and up Yoongi's spine to watch the way he shivers. "I'm sure you're well aware of the traffic light system, hm? Tell me what the colours mean."
Yoongi shifts, fingers curling uselessly against the tabletop as his eyes remain squeezed shut. "Red means stop, yellow means slow down, green means go," he recites, the exact phrasing off the dungeon's website, and Jimin bends down to press a single soft kiss on the top of Yoongi's ass as a reward, making him twitch violently. "Fuck, Jimin-ah," he sighs, arching his back even more.
Jimin grins. "Good. I'm adding another colour, just for you," he explains. "Gold. Can you guess what gold means?"
Yoongi swallows, shifts his weight, and shakes his head.
Jimin digs his fingers into the flesh of Yoongi's ass, watching them pillow in roughly. "Gold means more. Gold means harder. Okay?"
Yoongi nods quickly, hair even more tangled with every movement.
"Good boy," Jimin croons, and without further comment his left hand rises and comes down in a single strike.
Yoongi seizes up for a second at the shock of it, but there's no power behind the hit, and his brain realises a moment later that no pain follows the loud noise. He huffs in need and pushes his hips back, silently asking for more. "Gold, g-gold," he mutters offbeat, already panting.
Jimin hums in pleasure, and swats his right cheek this time, feeling a sting bloom across his palm. Still not nearly the hardest he can go, it's clearly not enough for Yoongi, as he remains stoic, waiting for more.
The next time, Jimin lets his hand really catch the air on the way down, but he doesn't stop at one hit, raining down three in quick succession on the same spot. Yoongi breathes through the first impact, freezes in surprise at the second one, and an unbidden moan falls out of his mouth at the third.
"Mm, that's better, isn't it?" Jimin muses rhetorically, soothing the slightly pinked patch of skin with his warmed hand. "Just need a bit more pain to let go."
"Please," Yoongi breathes, "jus' keep going."
"Bossy," Jimin teases, "I'm meant to be giving you orders, baby. If you don't quit it, I might not give you what you want at all."
"Sorry, I'm sorry, ple-please hit me again," Yoongi begs mindlessly, and Jimin can't help but indulge him, his husband sounding so pretty when he whines.
When he returns to spanking again, it's in earnest. Instead of pausing to check in each time, he relies on his husband's telling cues to moderate it, as well as the sweet pleas of gold, gold every time Jimin spent too long between swats.
Much like the rest of him, Yoongi's ass blooms candied pink, and with every strike, Jimin can't help but venture further, wanting to colour him in all over. The spanks that fall on Yoongi's upper thighs make him restless, squirming and moaning wordlessly. The ones that land on the fatty portion of his ass have him sighing happily, crooked smile slicked in drool against the wood of the desk.
The two of them slip into an unspoken rhythm for a while, alternating these hits on either side, of varying number and intensity, until Yoongi has almost fallen into a trance of sorts, mouth hanging open slackly as a whine or moan or whimper is falling out of his mouth with every single thwack.
Jimin's arm begins to tire, and just as he pauses to shake out the joints, Yoongi pants a, "wait, wait," making him pause.
It takes a moment for Yoongi to catch his breath, but Jimin waits patiently, scanning his ass and thighs for any sign of something that could be causing undue comfort, but he comes up short. With a weak, slurred voice, Yoongi lets out a sob. "I wanna use the paddle, Minnie, I wanna feel it," he pleads, "I've h-had enough of the spanking."
Jimin furrows his brows in concern, massaging out the sore tissue as Yoongi goes lax beneath him. "If you've had enough, baby, we should stop. I don't wanna push you."
Yoongi actually tears up, biting hard on his lip as he shakes his head. "Please, Minnie, just a few times, I just need it to be- to be heavy. I don't know, but I need it. Gold, please gold."
"Okay," Jimin is agreeing softly, squatting down to press reassuring kisses against the hot flesh, feeling his own palm stinging. He leaves only to slide open the drawer of paddles, selecting the wooden one. He knew from subspace himself that sometimes those base, thoughtless needs stemmed from something deeper, from an emotional need tangled up daily life. Once, in the early days of doing demonstrations at the dungeon, Jimin had gotten stage fright and done such a poor job of a fingering tutorial that the sweet sub he was working on didn't even cum. He'd come home to Yoongi bawling in humiliation, and his husband had lain him down on their bed and made him cum so many times that he couldn't even think, couldn't move a single limb. Now, Jimin had no doubt that the need to feel a heavy impact had something to do with the reason Yoongi had taken an uncharacteristic sick day.
Talking about it wouldn't help, would only break the escapism of the scene, so Jimin just runs the face of the wooden paddle over Yoongi's sore ass, letting him grow accustomed to the feel and texture. "Just two hits," Jimin declares, "one on each cheek. No more. Focus on them, baby. Eyes closed, just feel them."
He waits until Yoongi settles, spreading his legs wider with wiggling toes, and catching his breath, one hand pressed over his teary eyes.
Jimin swings the paddle backwards, not up, and lets it impact on Yoongi's left cheek first, a wet, strangled moan leaving his husband's mouth at the thuddy feel. The wooden paddle didn't hurt like spanking or a lighter paddle. It was about the weighty feel of it hitting your skin, a light hit so as not to cause bruising.
A line of tension disappears between Yoongi's clothed shoulders, the sweaty fabric clinging to his back. He's calmed down, fully, waiting patiently for the second strike. The second Jimin rains that final hit, he drops the paddle onto the carpeted floor, exhausted himself, and moves around to the side of the desk, bending awkwardly over it to press his mouth to Yoongi's, who makes a muffled sound of surprise before responding in turn.
Jimin's hand is curled around the nape of his husband's neck, keeping him close as tears mingle with spit, their kiss salty and desperate.
He feels a vibration between them before he hears anything, has to focus hard to hear Yoongi as he chants over and over like a prayer, thanking Jimin.
He slows the kiss after a sweet eternity, letting their heartbeats return to normal. Jimin's own eyes sting, love and concern a potent combination, but as the adrenaline settles back to normal, Yoongi calms down too, and seems to come back to himself.
He pulls away to let out a tired breath, laughing voicelessly. "Fuck," Yoongi curses with eyes still closed in bliss. "I get it now."
Jimin beams, a chuckle leaving his own lips as he sees the peace on his husband's face. After a moment, though, a frown appears as Yoongi furrows his brows. "What is it?"
"My dick hurts," Yoongi whines, managing to get his elbows under him to lift his chest from the table, head in his hands.
Jimin startles, standing bolt upright as he rushes down to look for any injury. "Oh shit, did I hit it?"
The laugh returns, bubbling out of Yoongi as he turns himself with great effort onto his back, chest still rising and falling dramatically. "No, Jimin-ah, don't worry," he assures, wincing when his ass-cheeks meet the unforgiving surface of the desk. "But if I don't cum soon, I think it's gonna explode."
Jimin's mouth falls open, relief and disbelief flooding his veins equally as he's faced with Yoongi's cock, so flushed with blood it's almost purple in places. "I- Okay, do you- do you want me to get you off, or do you want to keep playing?"
Yoongi looks at him like he's insane. "I mean... Preferably both, Minnie."
After the moment of scare, it takes surprisingly little time before that thrum of arousal is dialed up again, and Jimin smirks, running his hands up and down Yoongi's inner thighs to watch the way he naturally and obediently parts them for him.
"Do you know what I realised, baby?" Jimin coos, stubbornly avoiding the weeping cock in front of him. Yoongi mutters a weak response. "I realised that so far I've been doing all the work so far, haven't I? That isn't really fair, wouldn't you agree?"
Wary, Yoongi pauses and nods, the blur of tears long since replaced by the haze of arousal, of subspace beginning to creep in once more.
"I'm glad we're on the same page," Jimin drawls, flattening a hand heavy on the soft flesh just above Yoongi's cock, making the man moan and wriggle to escape the pressure. "So I think, if you want to get off, you should put a little work in yourself. Make some effort, baby."
Yoongi takes a few heaving breaths, before slowly, so carefully, lowering his hand down to wrap around the base of his cock, immediately groaning at the touch. He's leaked so much precum that it takes a single shaky stroke to coat the sensitive skin, and a relieved smile spreads over his face at the thought that he's finally going to get off.
But where's the fun in that?
"Don't you think you're being a little selfish?" Jimin spits stiffly, and flicks once at the very tip of Yoongi's dick.
His husband practically howls, curling up with a depraved cry. "Wha-at?" he sobs, hand trembling as it hovers on his thigh, fighting his desire. "What do you want, Minnie?"
"How sweet of you to ask," Jimin praises in a sugar-sweet voice, reaching down to unzip his own jeans. "Those hands are big enough to fit the both of us, aren't they?"
Blearily, Yoongi looks down as Jimin slips his aching cock out from his pants, fitting himself between Yoongi's spread legs so that their bobbing lengths bump together.
Even that contact is enough to make Yoongi hiss, but he's desperate and so he nods quickly, fingers trembling as they grab Jimin's cock, pinning them together in his grip. He pauses, panting as he stares up at Jimin for permission.
Jimin smiles placidly, bending forward to press a single chaste kiss to his husband's lips. "I don't want you cumming before I do, okay?" he asks sweetly, though the threat is thinly veiled.
Using the strength of his abdomen to lift his upper half off the desk, Yoongi stabilises himself with an elbow while his other hand jerks the two of them off together, thumb running over the sensitive heads, paying extra attention to Jimin's.
"That's it," Jimin groans, biting hard on his tongue. Truth be told, it was hard enough for him to hold back, feeling threads of an orgasm already knitting together in his stomach. But he's not willing to let go of the pretty sight of Yoongi just yet, so debauched and far gone as he shivers with every stroke, torn between making Jimin cum and preventing his own climax.
After mere minutes, Yoongi has collapsed back onto the desk, ankles curled around Jimin's back to hold him close, hand shaking violently.
"Please," he begs occasionally, but the moment his hand slows down to give himself a break, Jimin pinches his inner thigh in warning. They both knew marks there were allowed.
It's not until Yoongi is quite literally biting down on his own knuckles to hold back an orgasm that Jimin can't keep himself from cumming anymore.
Greedily, he runs his hands over Yoongi's sides, skimming the shirt up to put his chest on display, flicking at the delicate pink nipples. Jimin cums so hard he almost buckles forward onto Yoongi, spurting white all over Yoongi's hand and cock.
He holds himself up shakily, spouting praises to Yoongi as the wave of pleasure rushes through him, making his toes tingle and his fingers curl, scratches down Yoongi's chest and stomach.
"Oh, god, I'm gonna- Mi-Minnie, can I cum, oh fuh-fuck, no!"
One last liberty taken in his time as Yoongi's dom, Jimin pulls himself away, pinning Yoongi's wrists to the table and watching as his cock, dripping white, bobs desperately in the air, seeking friction.
Yoongi babbles pleas and curses, hips jerking, but it only takes Jimin leaning down, blowing a single thin stream of cool air over Yoongi's cock for Yoongi's thighs to tense. He cums, untouched, shuddering and seizing on the table as Jimin takes mercy and wraps his hand around him to stroke him through it.
"Look at you," Jimin croons in wonder, watching cum spill between his fingers, the two of them mixed together indistinguishably. "Baby, you look perfect like this. Please tell me you want to do that again."
Yoongi makes a strangled, guttural noise as he goes limp on the table, legs dangling off the edge. "Fuck, not right away, you demon," he protests grumpily, "now come kiss me again."
With a fond beam, heart so full with love and post-orgasm endorphins that he can barely handle it, Jimin tugs him up by his forearms and joins their mouths together, Yoongi's one dry hand tangling in his hair as he smiles into the kiss.
It takes only a few moments, however, for the sticky reality to sink in, and soon enough Yoongi is parting, letting his forehead rest against Jimin's. "I don't suppose there are any wet wipes in here?" he ventures.
Jimin chuckles, leaning back. "Cleaning materials in the desk drawers," he divulges.
With crazy sex hair and wide eyes, Yoongi makes quite the picture. "Fuck, I love this place. Let's try the interrogation one next time, yeah?"
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into-crazy · 4 years
Text
horror and chill
Ledger!Joker x Female Reader one shot
Summary: You and J watch a horror flick. Eventually you both grow bored, turning your attention onto one another. You don't make it through the movie.
Warnings- Cursing, NSFW, SMUT, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, light knife play, spanking, use of the word daddy(once), unprotected sex, brief degradation, choking, light blood play, J style fluff, ages 18+
This sort of popped into my head while I was watching a scary movie. I'm a sucker for watching horror movies in the dark. Let's just say my self indulgences deff kicked in with this one whew! Also forewarning, it’s very long.
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The month of October has always been a favorite for you. That time of the year when Autumn is in full effect. The air outside is cooled down, where it's not too hot and not quite cold yet. Seasonal items return with a comeback, available to stock up on- whether they be edible goodies or scented candles. Then, of course, there's Halloween. Or spooky season, as the kids like to call it.
That special time where watching horror movies is an absolute must. Ordering takeout, nothing on but panties and an oversized tee, cuddling on the couch with a blanket, turning out all of the lights, and blasting the volume on the television to get the full effect. Yeah, it's one of your most prized traditions.
You and Joker have been together for well over year now. Let's just say he was around this time last year. He knew of your passion for this month, but he hasn't fully experienced it with you. Since that was a point where your relationship- if that's what you want to call it- was still fresh. Too early to establish complete trust and understanding in one another. Actually, you believe that still may be the case for J.
Not that you have anything against it. He's a highly complex and guarded man, he has a difficult time trusting people. In fact, he doesn't. But he's allowed you- and no one else- to come this close into his life, and it's pretty damn close. He trusts you enough and he's trying. There's nothing you'd ever do to betray that. You've come to accept it'll take a longer period before you'd get there fully.
Though it can be rough sometimes, you've had your fair share of fights. But he's never given you a reason to leave. You trust him, you've grown to love him. And while J would never confess to it, would never say it aloud, he adores you. He shows it in everything that he does for you. As for love, you've become aware and accepted that the word doesn't apply to him. He can't love. And that's okay.
Fast forward over to now, already a week into October. It's a Saturday night, and you're ready to continue your cherished routine, but with your beloved J. You've only watched two horror flicks thus far. Both nights had been alone, minus him and the takeout. He's been busy with his usual chaotic jobs, which kept him out later hours into the night. However you don't care about that right now, he called and informed you that he'll be home for tonight's showing.
"An' don't ah, don't ya dare start without me." J warned on the other end of the phone line.
"Well then you better hurry back," you playfully teased into the phone, "I already ordered the pizza and the movie is set to play."
That conversation ended about forty minutes ago. You sat on the couch in your shared apartment, waiting for him. Everything good to go, pizza has arrived, scented candles are lit, movie ready to proceed at the click of a button, and the lights are off- save for the small lamp by the entryway. The overall setting feeling eerily, just how you like it. It also feels quite romantic, which is a bonus.
You're wearing one of J's dress shirts with a blush thong underneath. Wrapped snug in a huge fluffy blanket in your designated spot(rightfully decided by you as this was your apartment first). Since he prefers to keep the apartment cold, you tend to get chilly a lot. Which was fine considering you have J and a vast selection of blankets to keep you warm. Currently, you have the blanket. All that's missing is J.
What's taking him so long? I'm gonna start the movie, I don't care. He'll just have to deal with it.. and I'm not rewinding it either.
You began to ponder while sitting in silence. Fingers tapping impatiently on the remote, debating whether or not you should carry on without him. With a loud huff, you glance over at the pizza box on the small table directly in front of you. In the amount of time you've waited, you managed to eat two slices already.
Then, you heard the familiar ruffling noise at the front door. The sound of the lock hurriedly being turned getting you to shoot your eyes towards it without moving your head. The door swings open and in walks J in all his glory, quickly shutting and locking the closure behind him.
"I'm home-ah!" A lilt in his voice as he exaggerates his arrival.
"You're late," you return displeasingly.
He narrows his glare at you, "well uh, hello to you too."
Rolling your eyes, you motion with your fingers, "I was this close to starting the movie without you. What took you so long?"
J works on shrugging off his plum trench coat. "What can I say? It was such a ah, easy breeze to get here." He throws sarcastically.
Shaking your head, you laugh, "I'm sorry J, I didn't mean to sound rude. I just missed you is all." You really do appreciate the extra efforts he goes through to make sure he gets here safe and undetected. To not be traced or followed. Be it by his fellow rivals, Gotham police, and in some cases- the Batman.
"Yeah doll, I know," he licks his lips, "I know." You watch him remove a few of his other articles to get more comfortable. His face paint isn't too disheveled which tells you his day went rather smoothly. Or as he prefers to call it- boring.
You open up the blanket to make space for him. Patting the empty spot right next to you, "hurry and get over here, pizza's getting cold."
Left in his purple slacks, dress shirt, and socks, he shuts off the last light before making his way over to plop onto the couch next to you. He allows you to snuggle against him. With the cover behind him, he doesn't feel the need to wrap himself in it. You, on the other hand, have your end burrito wrapped over you. Finally, you stick your hand out the blanket to hit play on the remote.
Twenty minutes in, you were beginning to grow less and less interested in the film. Nothing but a predictable storyline with a bunch of weak jump scares. Not to mention the overly cheesy acting. Though it wasn't completely terrible, it had a few good points to it. However this film probably won't make it onto your rewatch list. You failed to previously read the reviews for this one like you normally would when picking a new movie to watch. The plot sounded good when you had read it. Oh well, you gave it a shot.
J wasn't fond of the movie either. He's actually more bored of it than you are. Occasionally would he exhale blatantly or comment on one of the bad moments that came across. This. Is. Torture. He thought to himself staring blankly at the screen. And not the good kind. Alas, he'll bite his tongue and miserably sit through another hour because it is your movie night, and he knows how much this means to you.
You can't help but feel bad for having him sit through this with you- for you. Soon, you lost total interest in the film and your mind began to drift.. elsewhere. To his hand, resting freely between your soft thighs. His palm feels so warm against your flesh. But that's just J- always giving off heat. He's like your own personal heater. Sometimes warming you to the point you don't even need a blanket because it becomes too hot. Speaking of which, you removed the cover, preferring his signature warmth over the fabric's any day.
Your fingers start to brush lightly on his wrists and knuckles. The subtle touch earns you half smile followed with a pleased hum, which you see in your peripheral vision. He hasn't caught on yet, but your need for him is building fast.
You scooch closer to him in attempt to get his hand where you need it most without him catching on just yet. It didn't work, his hand isn't touching you. It's right there, mere millimeters away. Thinking about how amazing his hands feel when he touches you. When he grants you with friction as he rubs your throbbing clit. The wonderful spots he reaches when he relentlessly fucks you with those paint speckled fingers. Curling them deep, making you writhe and cry beneath him.
Clamping his wrist, your breath hitches at the thought. Shit. That was audible. For a split second, you thought you might have blown it. But Joker took it as something from the film frightening you.
"Quiet doll," he shushes, "you an' I both know the ah, movie ain't scary."
Fuck, you can't take it anymore. You want him to touch you. With a slight roll of your hips, you manage to get his hand to brush against your clothed heat. The smallest bit of friction causes you to release a muffled whimper.
J's arm stiffens and his face instantly snaps to look at you. You seize, halting your movement. No question, he felt what you did, sees the burning desperation in your eyes. Tossing his head back, he erupts in a delighted, high pitched cackle. "Oh-" more cackling laughter as he glances at you again, "so that's what that was." A malicious smirk spreads his scarred cheeks. He firmly grips the inside of your thigh, pulling you against him. "What happened bunny? Growin' needy?" Cupping your clothed mound, his fingers rub you teasingly.
"Yeah," you admit, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. Tightening your thighs around his wrist. Would've been no use lying to him when he'd easily seen and felt otherwise.
His rubbing comes to an abrupt stop. He taunts, "Ahh, this was your idea, hm. You were the one keen on a movie night, remember?"
"I know, but-"
"Ah-ta-ta," He cuts you off, "But nothing. This is what ya wanted, so that's what we'll do. We'll ah, sit here and watch."
Suddenly, he lifts you, effortlessly moving you into his lap. You yelp as your back is pressed flush against his torso. He separates your legs apart, you can feel his cock beginning to harden under you, pushing into the plush of your ass. One hand wraps around your chest, to roughly knead your breasts. The other slides under the shirt, gliding over your abdomen, down between your legs. To rub harsh circles on your excited clit through the thinly soaked fabric of your underwear.
"Ahh- fuck!" You whine, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder, reaching around to grip his green locks.
J starts to kiss and nip his way down your neck. Leaving dark patches into your skin, accompanied by red and white splotches- completely marking you. Once he was satisfied with his marks, he leans closely by your ear. "You're dripping, doll," he whispers huskily, his hot breath brushing against your neck. "Now, you will sit here and watch the flick like a good girl, while I play with this needy little cunt of yours. No fussin' or fightin'. Got it?"
"Mhm, yes sir," you answer. Biting back the urge to smile at the thought of finally getting what you want. Fighting it off because, let's be real here, you know with J, it never comes along that easy. But he always makes it damn well worth it.
"Good, now sit still." He growls lowly onto your neck. With that, he pushed your panties to the side and began his torture. His fingers transitioning from fucking your aching hole to rubbing the drenched digits on your throbbing clit. Whispering twistingly sweet and dirty words into your ear while he slathers your own arousal all over your pussy.
He'd bring you close, on the verge of your orgasm, only to stop his movements entirely. Tearing it away from you before you could fall over that edge into pure ecstasy. You grew more and more frustrated each time he'd do that. Though you haven't fully, but you're rapidly losing your composure. Which already may be broken. Sweat is forming on your hairline, tears are prickling your eyes, your breath is starting to hitch. Starting to want it so bad you're teetering towards retaliating to get what you crave.
Joker's counting on it. He thrives on edging you, demands the control over you. As much as he prefers having you entirely at his mercy, he likes it when you lash back. Finds it rather amusing, makes for something a little bit more interesting. See how far you'll go before you snap so beautifully.
And that's now.
You start to buck your hips against his fingers that are going in and out of your pussy, along with his thumb assaulting your clit. Feeling that powerful knot reforming, you need to orgasm. "Oh f-fuck! Please!" You start pleading, "I-I can't take it anymore. Please J, l-let me cum!"
"You wanna cum?" He hints, removing his chin from your neck.
"Yes, God- yes please!" You cry out, clawing your nails into his thighs. Clamping down to gain better leverage. The wild rolling of your hips gets your ass brushing more against his hardened cock. Your arousal had already soaked through his pants a long time ago.
"Fuck," he hisses through gritted teeth, digging his fingers hard into your hip that's sure to leave an array of dotted bruises. He bucks absently into you, licking a wet, hot trail up your neck. "Mm, dirty girl. So you wanna play that game-ah?"
He moves his fingers faster and harder. Even over the loud volume from the television could the wet squelching sounds deriving from his ministrations be heard. The air filled with the scent of sex- your sex. So desperate and ready to let go and orgasm. It's driving you crazy.
"P-please- Ahh! Can I cum?" You plead. Hoping he'll reward you at least for asking.
"You can cum. Go on, babygirl. Cum on my fingers." He finally grants, fingers continuing to get you to ecstasy.
Well you didn't have to be told twice.
You release with a broken cry, orgasm gushing out onto his digits. Drenching the fabric of his pants beneath you. Your body spasming madly over his own while you ride out your high.
Coming down, J removed his hand from your pussy. His fingers are glistening, coated in your cum. He sticks them into your mouth. "Clean my fingers of the mess you made," he growls the command in your ear. Groaning in approval when you comply. Eagerly licking and sucking his digits clean of your juices. "Come here," he grabs your face, turning your head, making you look at him. "Give me a taste."
He kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth to savor the taste of your delectable juices. You kiss him back feverishly. One hand fisting in his hair, the other goes to stroke his cock. Still clothed, still hard. The action causing him to snarl against your lips, "such a greedy little thing. Always ah, wanting more. Ya just can't get enough of me, huh?"
"Never," you huff with a grin, "and telling by this-" you rub him again, "neither could you." His eyes snap to glare into yours viciously. Ohh, he's gonna make you pay for that snarky remark.
With hasty movements, J turns you around so that you're now facing him. Straddling his lap. He tears the shirt that adorned your body open, buttons flying to scatter the couch and floor. Someone's gonna have to sew those back on later, most likely you. He removes the shirt from you, carelessly tossing it aside.
With the large article gone, it granted him with a better view of the mess you made on his custom, pricey slacks. His entire crotch and thigh area is completely drenched in your juices. He gave a sigh which tried to make him sound annoyed or displeased. However, with the straining bulge pushing against you below, you know that was far from the case. His eyes traveled to land on your barley covered pussy, he groaned at the sight. The flimsy fabric of your thong sticking to one of your wonderful, wet lips. Your orgasm, still dribbling out your cunt.
He hooked a finger under the thin strap hugging your hip, pulling far enough only to have it fall and snap against you. Chuckling at your slightly startled reaction. "Bad girl. Misbehaving, talking back, making a mess of my pants? These aren't exactly 'buy at the store' ready. Maybe I should put your dirty mouth to use and have you suck your own juices up, hm?"
"I misbehaved?" You mock a pout, fully knowing what you did. Regardless, asking anyway.
His kneads the plush of your ass roughly. The callousness of his hands making you shiver in his grasp. You may think this position is in your favor, that you could use it to your advantage. But Joker's got you right where he wants you. The stern look in his blackened eyes and the firm hold he's got on you make that known. "You ah- were supposed to make it through the film without so much as a fuss. Remember that?"
"I was?" Your fingers ghost up his chest, "I don't remember that part." Now you're pushing it. He notices the smile threatening to creep your face. One of his hands shoots up to grasp a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back, exposing your marked neck.
"Yes," he acknowledges slowly trailing his lips up your throat, "yes you do. You just chose to be a brat and not listen." His tone is dangerous, and it would've been absolutely frightening had you been anyone else instead of the only person he cares about in his life. Even though he'd never verbally admit that, frustrating as it is for him, he does care. He does. Which is why whenever you feel that tingle dubbed as fear creep up your spine, you still hold assurance. The flesh of his scars brush the underside of your chin, making you moan unabashedly. "Ya know I gotta punish you for that."
J uses his hold on your hair and hip to guide you to lay over his lap, your naked stomach pressed against his wet thighs, and most of all, his erection. He reaches over to the small table beside the couch, plucking an item you assume to be one of his signature knives. The distinct clicking sound indicates you were correct. It's a switchblade.
He drags the razor sharp blade along your spine until it reaches your underwear, almost on the verge of slicing into you. The thrill gets your heart pounding faster in your chest and ears. You love it when he cuts you, and he's aware of that. But this is a punishment, so you won't be getting what you want.. least not yet. Placing it under the strap, he tears the article to shreds, carelessly nicking you a few times in the process. Alright, so the little nicks he can't control. Those just come naturally. Tossing the ruined fabric aside, he palms your ass cheeks, favoring a spot to start spanking. "Count. We'll ah, stop when I decide you've had enough."
His palm came down hard against your ass, sending an electrifying jolt through your entire body causing you to yelp. "One!" You count. The stinging grew worse with each spank. He hit you hard, but it wasn't anything you couldn't bare. Warm tears steamed down your reddened cheeks. It hurt in a wonderful way, your pussy leaking more arousal as it progressed. He continued to spank you until he grew bored of hearing the same cries and whines.
"Last one bunny," he subtly praised, soothing over the bright marks in your flesh that are starting to welt and bruise. With that, his hand came down a final time. This one stinging the worst.
"Fif- fifteen." You manage to rasp, mind overcome with the lust you had building up. At this point you need him inside you. You need his cock buried deep in your aching core and you need him now. "Please f-fuck me J. I need you!" Your body arched into his as you begged.
J snickered, "need me huh? How bad?" His hand went back to your abused ass to shove you forward, so that your pelvis was atop his as he purposely rolled his erection against your painfully heated sex. The friction drawing a long, strained moan from your lips which pleased him. "Tell me bunny. How, how bad do ya need my cock?"
"Bad- oh so fucking bad- I need your cock! P-Please J, please daddy, fuck me!" You practically shout, resorting to the word daddy. A word which you hardly use, but do when need be. And now was a time of great need.
A snarl left his lips as he yanks you off briefly to undo his pants and shove them down. His cock finally free from the uncomfortable confines, he sighs with relief as he takes it into his hand, pumping a few times. The tip, red and angry with his precum beading out. "Get over here now," he growls impatiently.
Wasting no time, you swing your leg over both of his, reclaiming your previous place of straddling him. You grabbed-rather pawed- his shoulders for leverage. His thick head lines up with your dripping entrance, then he pulls you down, driving his length inside with a powerful thrust. Knocking the wind from you as he filled you. Fuck, how he stretched you so good.
After a brief second for you both to adjust- you to his size and him to recompose himself- he instructs you to- "Move."
To which you do. Rapidly bouncing yourself up and down on his cock. Unashamed at the loud moans and whimpers continuously leaving your lips. This was exactly what you needed, and having been denied lots tonight it felt amazing to finally have this. You moved like your life depended on it.
J grunted as he met your thrusts with his languid ones, his hands guiding the movement of your hips. He held back from pounding into you, oh how he's going to pound into you, just not yet. Which means he's definitely in the mood to tease you to an extent, in any and every way that he can. What an asshole.. Your asshole.
Your arms went to wrap around him. To your surprise, he didn't shove them off. Instead, his chin went to rest in the crook of your neck, catching glimpse of the illuminated TV screen. The movie was still on.
"Mhm, you're just a horny little slut, aren't ya?" He sneered. "Can't even get through a movie without having my cock inside of ya."
There was no way you could give him a proper response. So wrapped were you in the exhilarating feeling of him that any words to a sentence you tried to form wouldn't come out. What did manage to slip out was muddled babbling. He snickered at your incoherence.
The female protagonist on the screen started to scream. The shrieking noise caught both your attention, though your actions didn't falter. "This woman's a terrible actor," J criticized the lady, "her scream is so fake, wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes- ah," you return finding your voice, "It s-sure is."
He removed one hand from your hip, gliding it up the valley between your breasts to grip your neck. Glaring menacingly into your eyes momentarily before muttering, "I think you could give me a better one." You knew from his low tone that something malicious just popped into his head. His fingers tightened, "Let's see if you could scream louder than the girl on the screen. Can ya do that for me sweets?"
You nodded feverishly within his hold, "yes J."
Satisfied with the answer, he began driving his cock vigorously up into you. The harsh slapping of skin heard as his hips pound mercilessly against your own. The spontaneous change of pace left you almost completely breathless. Your orgasm was fast approaching. Eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you relentlessly. You screamed, "Oh fuck!"
Your beautiful screams rang harmoniously in his ears like a favored tune. That he could play on repeat over and over and never grow tired of hearing. Your screams and moans are definitely his favorite sounds, aside from explosions and gunfire. He can't help but want more. Crave more.
"Come on doll, get louder," he teases, "I know ya could do better than that." He went to tug your head to the side, exposing the junction between your neck and shoulder. Sinking his yellowed teeth in, biting down hard to draw blood. That was just the push you needed. Your eyes roll back and your walls clench tightly around his length, releasing a shattering scream as you cum violently around his cock.
J lapped the fresh blood from where he bit you. "Hm, that's it," he groaned, "now that's a real scream." He kept going, his pace never letting up. In fact, soon as your hands went to tug at his hair did his thrusts speed up.
You yank his head from your neck to look into his intoxicating eyes, moving to glance towards your blood on his lips. Crashing them with yours to taste that savory metallic flavor for yourself. You take his bottom lip between your teeth and bite down harshly, earning a rumbling groan from him.
He's getting closer and closer to his own peak as you're nearing another. When you feel his thumb move to rub rigorous circles on your sensitive clit, you release his lip with a sharp cry. "J!"
Your walls clamping painfully tight around his throbbing dick, vision blurring as you cum. Nails digging into his broad chest, probably creating tiny bruises under the shirt.
He relishes in the pinch of pain you give him. Combined together with your sinful noises, the sight of your face contorted in ecstasy, and the feeling of your tight warm walls. With that, he buries himself in you and cums hard. A moan mixed with a groan like noise slipping from his lips while he shoots his hot load into your cervix. So much, that some leaks out while you milk him of every last drop.
J collects his breath before lifting your weight up to slip out of you. Your pussy lips are so swollen that his cum isn't even able to drip down once he's out. He sets you onto the couch beside him, getting up to go into the restroom to clean himself and grab a damp rag to bring back to you.
As you regain yourself, you manage to sit a little more up on the couch. Wincing, trying not to sit up all the way due to the soreness already starting to form between your legs. You wrap the blanket around your naked form and silently contemplate. The sex was amazing sure, but you still felt bad for ruining movie night with a terrible movie.
The sound of J coming back in hadn't even registered with you until he waved his hand in your view, tearing you from your thoughts. You blink quickly, offering him a smile to hide it. But J had already seen the small frown when he walked back. And he wanted to know the reason behind it, since it was out of the ordinary. Usually you're always smiling in your post orgasmic state.
"What's carving a frown in ya, pumpkin?" He asks, a hint of concern in his tone as he hands you the small towel. The strange nickname causes you to giggle and he eases knowing you're alright.
"It's nothing J," you say shyly, "I'm just.. I'm sorry the movie sucked. I promise I'll pick a better one next time."
He hums, saying nothing else as he sits back down beside you. Draping his arm behind the couch behind you. Blankly watching the last of the movies end credits while you clean yourself with the rag.
You start to laugh again, "Well, now I really wanna carve a pumpkin. This place could use a couple. How about tomorrow I get some for us to carve?"
He grins sinisterly, "ya know, I'm usually carving into people."
"Pumpkins are less messy. Like, way less." You playfully respond.
"I like messy," he huffs.
"Yeah I know you do." You smile knowingly at him, lightly tracing the hexagonal patterns on his shirt. "I thought it would be fun. You don't have to if you don't want to."
J licks his scars as he ponders on it. Any activity having to do with a carving into something with a knife, count him in. "Ah, what the hell. Alright. What better way then to uh, help me spruce up on my slicing skills." He traces his hand out in front of him, as if he were carving a smile into something. This action causes you to release a genuine laugh. And in that moment, J relishes in hearing yet another one of his favorite sounds~
Woah, so that's the end! I hope you guys liked it. Again, sorry that it was so long. I can't help but make these super lengthy when it comes to smut😭
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