#Consensual sleepy tea drinking

[darkittensniper]

Hellooooooooooo, Mother!🙇‍♀️😌

I am humbly- not so humbly. I’m so thirsty- asking you for that one cassandra x Donna thought we had….because…we starving when it comes to this ship

Please, Mother, feed us feed me! I’m your fav-

I FUOAKIN LOVE your works. But ofc especially Cassandra x Donna🙇‍♀️ because good soup

That…sleeping one…you teased…please. Pretty please? I’ll even leave your vases alone for a day pleaaaaaaase MOTHERRRRRR!🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

The cig break I had to take after writing this should fucking illegal.

Firstly Yes hello yes daughter. MY FAVORITE DAUGHTER. MY ONLY WONDEFUL AMAZING SMART CHILD! I have heard you and have arrived once again to deliver the food. *slams down massive ass plate* Ok so lets start with the basics. I have no right to say I had any control of this one shot once I started writing it. It took me on some twist and turns but I think I got across the what you wanted. (Cass getting touched on by Dark Donna while she is sleeping) My HC's for Dark Donna go wild and i aint sorry. More mutant and multi armed Donna yes pls...

Hope you enjoy it @muffinsin

The teacup fell from frigid fingertips, shattering completely along the polished wood floor. Cassandra’s hand loosened enough for it to have dropped. Porcelain covered in the finely ground root that had been added to this evening’s tea. An unspoken rule between the two women, Donna brewed Cassandra a special tea. Cassie knew it would make her rather sleepy, due to the Golden Pothos leaves that had been added to the lavender tea. The Lord knew Cassandra would have refused to drink the tea if she didn’t want to be taken advantage of while she slept.

Lord Beneviento found much to enjoy when her little doll was like this. She stood just shy of their shared bed; the covers having been removed. Leaving just the black satin sheets. Skin the color of the finest alabaster in stark contrast with the sheets. Dark brown hair lay fanned out underneath the huntress’s head. Her eyes were closed, mouth agape slightly. Revealing small yet deadly top fangs. The Lord reached down and angled her thumb along her lover’s bottom lip. Just light enough to were her eyelids fluttered, but did not open. It drew a shudder from the lithe Lord. The veil over Donna’s face moved ever so gently from her rather labored breathing. Just looking over the smaller women’s sleeping form made Donna’s spine cramp. The lull of her stomach as it rose and fell. The swell of her breast, the giving fat teasing the Lord. The dark patch of hair between her legs, glistening with the start of her arousal. Strong muscle strapped thighs, each as supple as they were thick. One hand dangled over the side of the bed, the one that dropped the cup. The other lay along her stomach, fingers fanned out over the raised muscle of her abs.

The veins in the Lords hands danced along the extensor tendons as she flexed them. Drawing her thumb along Cassandra’s top lip, pulling it back to bare her teeth. A small groan left the Lord as she eased her tall frame down next to her women. Her mourning dress pulled up around her hips as she straddled Cassandra’s naked thighs. A small grunt leaving Cassie’s 

The brown-haired women's abs felt like heaven, just enough brawn to press against black silk panties. Yet enough soft give of fat to make the Lord bite her lip as her hips bucked on their own. Another flutter of Cassandra's eyelids, long beautiful eyelashes kissing the tops of her cheeks. An sharp inhale, taking the scent of her women into her nose. Even through the powerful lull of this induced sleep, the feral part of the hunter’s instincts could never be fully dulled. 

Cassie smelled the finest fragrance of wildflowers and the natural musk of her lover’s arousal.

 Donna, utterly enraptured in the sight before her, the veil opening capturing just enough for her wondering eye to have time to appreciate all she saw. Taking Cassandra's sleeping form in sections, capturing each like a photo still. Imprinted and etched. Burned and seared into her memory. The sweet torture of being able to remember her like this at a whim made a small whimper leave the larger woman. Each detail would never be lost on Lord Beneviento, her obsession for her lover wouldn't allow such a thing. Her spine cramped again, this time the sheer need to have dead cold flesh in her hands, holding more life than anything the Lord had ever beheld. In the ice cold reaches of cream-colored skin Donna found a blazing inferno. 

Nails painted the color of the darkest ichor stood proud along the brawn of Cassandra's neck. Fingers honed and practiced. Long, slim and astoundingly dexterous, each individually pressed right where the Lord wanted. Palms pressed feather light along the smooth column of her lover’s throat. 

The Lord squeezed.

Only along the sides of her lover’s neck, pressure alone. No need to crush her women’s windpipe. She wanted to hear her nightingale sing for her this night. The response was instant, a perfect sleep painted groan left the brown-haired women. Donna's veil fluttered in the still air as a soundless exhale left her. Veins danced along the doll makers hands as she squeezed again, this time taking the blunt end of her nails to the frigid skin under them. Lips, void of their usual bloodily appearance parted as another, be it louder groan left Cassies mouth. Sandstone colored eyes flitted under closed lids, a few flies broke off from her cheek and landed on Donna's hand. Drawing the silver-colored eye away from her prize to land on the insects on her left hand. They were sluggish but intent to make themselves known, mouthparts quickly drawing blood. 

The Lord didn't flinch, watching as a small rivulet of black blood leaked down her hand, wrapping around her wrist only to drop down on Cassandra's collarbone. The air was permeated with the raw copper smell of the Lord’s blood, drawing a sleepy growl from Cassie. Her nose along with her flies had tasted their prize. Yet the effects of the tea were just strong enough to keep the smaller women affected. The Lord’s eye twitched at the reddening skin from where her ladies’ flies had bitten her.

 Had Donna given permission to taste her blood?

Like a switch, the Lord’s was deftly agile when she needed. She less moved, more appeared next to the bed again. A cold patience, one Lord Beneviento always carried around her, had been tested. Tested in a way that needed a swift end. Cassandra’s flies, sensing more than feeling the change of demeanor, flying lazily back to her face and returning to the smooth alabaster of her cheek. The Lord went about positioning her doll on the bed. Invisible, writhing arms coming from Donna’s back. Each strong and just as deadly as the ones who lay clasped in front of her. The red bites along her left hand had stopped bleeding but the actual process of healing them would take time. Having marred the Lord’s perfect skin without her permission.

The indent of the phantom fingers along toned legs made Donna shiver. An extension of herself, she felt every inch of cold supple skin through those hands. They were her hands after all, just unseen. Two spreading her lovers’ legs, two clasping Cassandra’s arms and pulling them above her head. Successfully pining her little doll to the bed. The final set laying claim to her hips, pressing into the cold skin until it bruised the pale skin. Cassie groaned; eyes fliting open for a spilt second from the brazen pain. Donna’s many pairs of arms kept the vice grip on her lover, though her body went ridged next to the bed. The thought of almost waking her sleeping women excited her. Under the flowing black material of the dresses hems lithe well-muscled thighs were clamped together. The friction it caused felt delightful, along with the all the other various stimuli she was getting from the many limbs coming from the Lord’s back. It only added to the itch at Donna brain that could only be scratched by the sleeping form of her lady. The hunter felt the phantom limbs holding her down, the dreamscape she wadded through left much of the sensations fleeting as best. Having to chase down the feeling, only for it to slip from her grasp. Starting the chase all over again. She. Loved. This.

Donna gave Cassie just what she wanted, her body already more than willing to be explored. Hands along the smaller women’s hips, lifting just enough for Donna to see just how Cass had started to leak, slicking clinging to her ever so pretty pussy lips. Using her own hands the Lord removed her veil from her head, the flushed face hidden under bared to the room. Silver colored scar tissue, casting forth a shimmering like that of an iridescent moon. The smile on the Lords face only grew as the scared flesh came alive, leaving room for wickedly sharp teeth and the writhing mass to grow. The right side of the Lord’s face also grew many more teeth than should have been housed inside. The smile splitting her features, what snaked out of her mouth couldn’t be called a tongue. The appendage itself was split right down the middle, making two wiggling tongue like muscles. Each dripping with a very special mix of different fluids.

Donna again, appeared before the foot of the bed, its height only making to just shy of the tops of the Lord’s knees. Towering not only above mattress, but also above Cassandra. If only yellow eyes had opened in that spilt second. Maybe the hunter would have noticed the nefarious glint in the Lord’s eye. The absolutely manic look lurking just under the dead calm awash in her eye.

Unhinged would not even be cutting it close to all the dark thoughts running rampant in the Lord’s mind. All of Cassandra at her mercy. Only madness itself could comprehend the bond these two women shared. Veil dropped from fingers dusted with growing talons of their own. Cassie’s arms flexed, legs much the same. Still chasing sensations in her dreamscape. Body unfolding before her Lord, silently begging. A hunter begging to be turned into the rightful prey she was before Donna Beneviento.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine-mine mine mine.”

The word repeated like a mantra. Echoing from a mouth that should not have been able to produce any. The twin serpent like tongues growing in not only length but girth as well. Intertwining with each other as they each drew closer to the molten heat between Cassandra’s legs. Window frost-like patterns formed and danced over the scar tissue along the left side of the Lord’s face. Painting emotions the Lord could never speak aloud, never find the right words to describe the feeling of unraveling before Cassandra. Letting herself, her true self go forth and devour just what fed this dark fascination.

The keening noise that left Cassies’ mouth was nothing short of the sound of a universe being born. It drew not only a wail wrapped with pleasure, but also the unfounded loss of her dreamscape. Jolted out of the recesses of her subconscious. A subconscious controlled by none other than Donna herself, weaving her very will into it. The same way the glistening twin appendages weaved their way inside of both smaller women’s holes. The Lord could secrete a certain enzyme from the ridge covered glands along the underside of the tongues. Ones that were tailored just for her little doll here. Her own personal aphrodisiac, one that took hold instantly.

 Eyelids snapping open as hazy yellow eyes met the outside world again. Trying to focus on anything long enough. Failing in truly spectacular fashion. Her attention snatched from her very soul as she felt pressure, the sweet ache awarded her whenever her Lord took her like this. Each time somehow more wonderous than the last time. Even with most of the Lords lower jaw having been overtaken by the wriggling fleshy dark matter that made up the mutation. Seeing Donna like this, primal and in her natural form made little else matter to Cassandra. Each thrust driving home just how much Donna owned her. Controlled her. A dogged want to possessive every iota of this women.

The waterwall behind the mist covered manor could not drown out the tortured cries of pleasure as Cassandra was ravaged beyond comprehension. Each time Donna curled the appendages deep inside her women, the skin stretching to accommodate the bulging mass of tongue like flesh deep inside of her womb. Six hands going unseen but most defiantly not unfelt pinning the hunter to the bed, forcing her to only lay there and take it all. Not that Cassandra would want it any other way.

If the power the Lord wielded could dethrone a ‘God’ if she merely willed it, what hope would her precious little doll have against her? Creating beautifully terrifying nightmares, Donna was the specialist. Giving all she knew her women could take, tasting her insides with revere. She would never ger enough to each pitiful beg for mercy, knowing if Cass truly wanted mercy she would swarm. Yet she stayed, a panting sweat covered mess. Voice hoarse and used as the two women stared at each other. The larger of the two still standing as stoic still at the end of the bed, hands clasped in front of her.

Sometimes not even a finger needed to be lifted for the Lord to get ‘just’ what she wanted.

#cassandra dimitrescu #donna beneviento #Dark Donna #My HC for Dark Donna #Yes... yes you counted right #Dark Donna has an additional three sets of arms and hands #I think my Donna is turning into CreepyPasta Donna #Consensual sleepy tea drinking #DonnaXCassandra #one shot #resident evil #re8 village #re8 donna #re8 cassandra

[haruchuiyo]

sleepy activities

After prioritizing work for a while, of course your husband misses you, in every way possible.

content: MINORS DNI! NOT SFW! + somno (consensual) + fem!reader + established marriage + reader wears a nightgown + mating press + no protection + kissing + consent is sexy!!!

word count: 2.7k

the paragraphs in italics are for what happened in the past.

—

You hear the familiar steps of your husband. Your ears perk up and you immediately start walking in a haste. You know where he is by the scent of his cologne and the way he seem to make rustling sounds. When you arrive at his office, he stops whatever he’s doing when you reach him. He immediately turns around, his entire face lightens up.

“Hey sweet doll, I missed you.” He says, hugging you close to himself. Standing on your toes, you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him closer. You feel him inhaling your scent by your neck before letting out a slight groan. “And hi to you.” You say back, softly scratching his the back of his neck.

“What were you looking for, wrio?” You ask curious as to the rustling noises he made. He pulls his face away from his place at your neck. He sighs, scratching his head at your question.

“Some folder on one of our prisoners at the fortress. He’s claiming he got rights for whatever stunt he pulled.” Your husband looks tired, there’s some slight darkness below his eye. His hair which is usually so refined is ruffled. You reach your hands up to his hair and softly put them back to place. Wriothesley closes his eyes, enjoying your touch. He slips his hands down to your hips and holds you there.

It’s been like this for a dozen days. Wriothesley comes home when he forgets something, comes home late but you’re already asleep. And he’s gone when you’re awake. The few times you get to see your beloved husband is the times he is forgetful. While it’s not his fault his workload has increased nowadays, you do wish he put aside some time for you.

“I’m sorry for not being home so often, angel but i promise you, once this workload is gone, I will be at your side as soon as possible.” He sounds guilty and sad, you know he misses you a lot as well. By how he sometimes sends Sigewinne to give you letters he wrote for you, or small batches of flowers with cards of affirmation written on it.

“It’s fine, just do your job and come home to sleep.” You reassure him, leaning your head up for a kiss which he gladly gives you. You miss his lips and his kisses so much, there were a lot of them before his very busy days. So you take this chance you have and deepen the kiss. Wriothesley lets out a soft groan into your mouth as his hold on your hips turns tighter.

Wriothesley is much taller than you, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes even more to reach him. His hands now softly caressing your backside, lifting you up to gently pin you against the nearest furniture. He tastes of his favorite black tea and you lightly smile into the kiss. Of course your husband drinks tea at the fortress.

Soft and gentle against your lips, he deepens it. It was tender and lovely. His mouth moves against yours for a few seconds more before he slightly pulls away to nip on your lower lip, softly peppering kisses down to your jaw. Before his lips lands back on yours again, this time fervently. Your hands trail up to this hair and when he moves his tongue against yours as he gives your ass a soft squeeze, your moans are muffled against his mouth. He pulls away, a string of saliva separating you both.

“I don’t wanna go.” He mumbles against your mouth, softly pecking it. His grip on your ass is rough but it’s nothing you can’t handle. “You can’t leave your duties at the Meropide.” You tell him gently. He chuckles. “I have duties as a husband for my wife, don’t I?” He says, his voice a deep lower as he softly nips on your lower lip. You softly groan as he grins at you.

“Go before I keep you here and make our home our own Fortress of Meropide.” You tell him, pushing him away but to not avail, the behemoth of a man in front of you doesn’t move an inch. You pout at his strength as he grins at you. He takes your hand against his chest.

“I will be back.” He tells you before he is lightly planting gentle kisses on your knuckles.

—

Taking a break from his duties, he enters his office, placing his documents on the nearest table and he thinks of you. He feels like the worst husband ever, leaving his dear precious wife at home alone, even if she has the company of her friends or the occasional staff that comes to clean and cook if you so desire, he knows you. You get lonely and so does he. All he wants right now is to be with you. To hug your precious body against his scarred one, feel your hands comb through his hair, giggling as he playfully tickles at your most sensitive spots.

Or the soft sighs and moans that escapes your lips when he touches your sweet spots, the way you’d wrap your thighs around his body and squeeze him when you feel so good. Wriothesley feels himself start heating up, from his head to his crotch and he lightly quickly adjusts himself while breathing in and out. He quickly downs his already cold tea and winces at the bitter taste. He misses you restlessly.

Hours after, he realizes how little work he has left and its matters he can attend to another time, he sighs in relief. He reads the last content of his documents and signs it before quickly leaving the office. Hurriedly telling Sigewinne ‘good job for today’, he puts on his jacket and heads home, wanting to see and touch you.

—

When he gets home, he immediately goes for your shared bedroom. When there, he sees you asleep on the bed, snoring softly which Wriothesley finds so endearing. The way your arms are spread out around the pillow is such a cute thing to witness. He takes off his gear and clothes, changing into his nightshirt and breeches before he joins you in bed.

When he gently pulled off the cover off your body, he sees the white nightgown you’re wearing. It caresses your body so finely, the way it rode up thighs and showed your lace undergarment, his heart pounded quickly against his chest and when he sees you move in your sleep to adjust your position to sleep on your side, the nightgown rises up even more and reveals your more of your thighs and backside. You looks so beautiful. Your hairs disheveled and your chest rises in even beats.

Wriothesley tells himself to not wake you up and let you be asleep. You’ve had a long day. He can’t wake you just because he feels needy for you but he do remember the time you gave him consent for that.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying, angel.” Wriothesley asks when you two were in bed, limbs tangled together after having such an intimate time.

“I’m saying, if you ever wish to for your own needs, when I’m asleep.” How bad is it to explain you’re giving consent to your husband to take you when you’re asleep, to the point you can’t even form a proper sentence. Did it make sense? Maybe not, but hearing your own words out loud feels embarrassing and with your husbands piercing look as he raises his brow at you, has you wanting to melt into a puddle.

“You’re saying, you wish for me to take you as you’re asleep.” He says.

“Yes- no! I mean yes!” You widen your eyes. You just said exactly that, why are you surprised? You internally hit yourself on the head. Your husband laughs and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’re too sweet, dear wife.” He hugs you to himself.

“Well, now you know I’ve given you the green flag to do so if you ever wish to.” You mumble against his bare chest as he chuckles at you again.

But what if he just touched you a little? Surely that won’t wake you up?

So he lays down, chest pressed up against your back and he hugs your form to himself. He smiles to himself when you nuzzle your body into him, even in your sleep you also crave his touch and warmth. He slowly places his hand on the inside of your thighs and at the touch you lightly squirm in your sleep. He continues when he knows the situations clear. He trails his hand up slowly and touches your cunt over your undergarment and his breath hitches.

He remembers your times together, how you took him so well and how good you felt wrapped around him. Your soft whimpers and cries for him and your tight grasp on his shoulders, arms and neck and everywhere on his body.

He gulps down on air before he raises your nightgown up, over your abdomen and stops close to your chest. And he is touching your soft breasts and he groans at the feeling. You’re so soft and perfect in his hand. Lightly squeezing it and run his thumbs over the nipple, he hears a sigh leave your lips.

He buries his head softly in your neck when he reaches his other hand down to your lace undergarment. And slides it down and gently moves his clothed erection against you. He feels your bare cunt on his fingers and he holds himself back from doing anything too rough to you in your sleep. He softly rubs circles on your clit, hearing you let out soft whines in your sleep, gently rocking against his hand. And he slips in a finger and one more, lightly moaning against your neck feeling how tight you are just around his fingers.

He pulls down his own breeches, getting on top of you between your legs. He sees you mumble in your sleep, eyes scrunched tight before he sees you slowly open your eyes.

Warmth. Is what you felt as you slowly woke up. That same warmth is still clinging onto you as you stretch your arms around and are met halfway, as your hands accidentally pushed against somebody. Somebody.

You recoil first, adjusting your sight, feeling that somebody’s shoulders and how they’re pushing your white nightgown up your body. When you breathe in the familiar scent, you stopped grabbing onto your husband and instead just flash him a tired smile.

“I’m so sorry, sweet girl.” He says as he keeps you in place by holding onto your hips with his one hand, while the other is lining his cock up to your heat. You moan as you felt him slowly fill you up, still not used to his size no matter how many times you’ve done it with Wriothesley.

“Hmm, it was about time, really.” You giggle, thinking about he apologized but still is doing it. It’s quite cute to you somehow.

Sparks buzzes up in your body, he’s slowly about to fuck you in your half asleep state. You wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in closer. He presses kisses on the corner of your lips, your jaw while he waits for you to adjust to his size. When he feels you snap your thighs around his waist, he starts moving his hips against yours. Choked gasps slips past your mouth, into the kiss he’s giving you.

His knees press into the mattress, hitting the back of your thighs the more the thrusts into you. Your body shifting the more he moves, his cock hitting you blindly but so good inside you. Shooting streams of pleasure throughout your body as he whispers sweet words by your ear, telling you how such a good of a wife you are, how good you feel, how much he missed you.

“Been dreaming about this, hearing your sweet voice as you take your husband like the good girl you are.” He groans when he feels you scratch your nails down his nape to his back below his night shirt.

In the late night, it’s just you and your Wriothesley. Your sleep gone and nonexistent but only the raw ecstasy as his body moves against your own. The sensation of the heat radiating from your bodily connection, pressure and the exhales of your husband above you. You realize as you grab onto him, he’s wearing his nightshirt, you giggle amidst all it.

“So you came home and wished to already have me?” You tease him as he chuckles, one hand reaching up to hold your face, pressing a hard kiss against your lips. “Couldn’t resist, you look ravishing in this nightgown.” He tells you before kissing down your jaw as his hips moves against you.

Your giggle quickly gets replaced with a choked moan when he hits a spot inside you, tears well up in your eyes, biting down on your lower lip and take in all the pleasure only your husband can give you.

So you squeeze your thighs tighter around his waist, locking him deep inside you while you clench down on him as you moan the more he hits inside you. When he shifts his weight on you, he slides in deeper, stroking places that have only known his pace. When he momentarily moves completely out of you, leaving you whimpering, burning for him to come back inside you, he slides in a little rough, letting the tears fall down your eyes.

“Oh sweet doll, I know I know.” He coos as you whimper out noises while holding onto him like he was your anchor. His thrusts are so precise, with every thrust more shoots of ecstasy fills your body up. All you could do is squeeze your thighs around Wriothesley, hearing him moan from above you.

He grabs onto your thighs and presses them against your chest, fucks into your harder and you dig your fingernails into his back and push the heel of your feet into his back with each thrust.

Wriothesley’s grip on your thighs loosens, his hips faltering with each thrust but still thrusting, you could feel yourself on the verge of reaching raw ecstasy. Clamping down on him as soon as you feel it, your thighs twitch and a choked moan leaves your lips as you feel yourself come. Not too soon after, your husband joins you, not before he forces your legs apart and sitting upright still inside you. Hitting one last hard thrust, he moans as the tip of his cock hits the sweet spot inside you and he fills you to the brim with his cum. His grip on your thighs was tight, digging his own fingernails in your skin.

Then you feel his mouth on yours, giving you a quite a literal breathless kiss. Just a few seconds after, you pulled away as you breathe against his mouth hardly, feeling his panting against you as well. Then he flashes you a big grin.

His big grin is visible with the help of the moon light lighting up the bedroom through the window curtains. And you see his messy grey-black hair, sweat on his forehead and the way his chest is rising up and down so fast, you’d think his lungs would burst out of its place.

Then he playfully peppers kisses all over your face, making you giggle and taking your lips in for a quick sweet kiss. All while still lodged inside you.

“I’d wear this nightgown every day if it means you’d take me like this.” You grin at him and he chuckles. He lightly kisses your nose before you see a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh dear wife, you could wear a sandbag and i’d still ravish you like you’re my last meal.” At his corny words, you couldn’t help but laugh but still feel flustered at how he’d still want you despite wearing unflattering things.

“This nightgown looks so beautiful on you, I’d love to see you twirl in it for me.”

—

WELL DID YOU TWIRL FOR HIM? YES OR YES?🗣️

if you came this far and enjoyed it, reblogs would be so much appreciated 🩷

#genshin smut #wriothesley #wriothesely x reader #wriothesley smut #wriothesley scenarios #wriothesley imagines #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley gi #genshin impact smut #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact x reader

[alectoperdita]

Oh hell, I am all about them drugged confessions. If/whenever you’re up for it. 💕

From Put That Guy in a Situation(TM) Ask Game

Jumped this one ahead in the queue since it's someone's birthday. 💜💜💜 Enjoy, my friend! I hope this has enough of the stuff you dig about them.

13. Drunken/drugged/sleepy confessions

content warnings: referenced non-consensual drug use and mildly spicy because Seto is thirsty

---

The city lights stabbed into Seto's eyes. The city's heartbeat—a frantic cacophony of bumper-to-bumper traffic, music spilling out of late-night shops and restaurants, and an overwhelming pulse of humanity—pulsed against the back of his head like a second migraine.

He lifted his heavy head and tried to get a better look at his surroundings. Not an easy feat when the world wouldn't stop spinning. Seto could feel the planet's rotational force itself.

In the sky, a bloated, sickly yellow moon hung on the black canvas, a dim bulb when compared to the Oriental Pearl Tower's neon blue and magenta on the opposite riverbank. The phalanx of lit skyscrapers behind the landmark formed a blinding wall that threatened to lighten the night sky.

No wonder they were sitting at a standstill in traffic. He was in the Bund. Shanghai. He was in Shanghai. Not for the first or second time, but the city's nightlife never failed to overwhelm.

It came back to him in bits and pieces. The Pan-Asia Duel Monsters Championship was in China this year, which KC was a sponsor of, along with a dozen international and domestic corporations. Seto wasn't here to compete, though. He was here to do business and build guanxi.

Which meant night after night of hard drinking and tedious back slapping as Seto endured their patronizing compliments about his passable Mandarin. Endless rounds of maotai until his blood must be 90% alcohol. That was the preferred poison of the old-school elites, the ones who built their wealth on the backs of a rapidly booming economy that outpaced everyone's wildest imagination. Not even Japan had sustained that kind of boom in the post-war years.

Potential liver failure was the price of doing business in this country.

That was last night, though. Seto was sure of that much, even if the passage of time seemed theoretical at best. Tonight, he'd been swept into a gaggle of their children, mainly the sons of the previous night's party officials and business moguls.

The fuerdai. His "peers."

Ha! Gozaburo had handed him nothing. Everything Seto owned, everything he accomplished, was through his own sweat and blood.

Seto will give them one thing: their tastes were decidedly less provincial. While their fathers drank baijiu like fish drinking water, they preferred cocktails, or at least pitchers of iced green tea mixed with Crown Royal.

Maybe that was his first mistake. Maybe he shouldn't have underestimated how fucked up he could get on such a simple mixture.

That was the last thing he could remember. He drew a yawning gap between the afterparty at the club and this taxi cab.

Seto sank into the seat and squeezed his eyes shut. His stomach lurched. Perhaps it was a good thing that they were stuck in traffic. He might not be able to keep it down in stop-and-go traffic.

An abrasive—a familiar abrasive voice—encroached from the fringes, though. An equally combative voice shot back in a different language.

Seto's head lolled to the side, away from the window and toward the other passenger in the backseat. Reluctantly, he pried his heavy eyelids open. God, why was he so tired? It felt like he'd pulled several all-nighters in a row.

His fellow passenger was Jounouchi, locked in a heated conversation/argument with the cab driver.

Right. Jounouchi was also in Shanghai this week. Except he was here to compete in the tournament. And unlike Seto, he didn't speak a lick of Chinese.

Not that his laughable grasp of English fared any better.

"Fuck, I'm telling ya, it's the other Marriott!" Jounouchi groaned in Japanese, running a frustrated hand through his bird's nest hair. It looked softer than it had any right to be, though. The strands ought to be bleached to hell and back after this many years.

But Jounouchi had been updating his wardrobe and his deck in recent years. Every victory advanced his look and style, and even netted him some media training like someone deserving of media notice, which was why he was playing in the Pan-Asian championship. Seto couldn't ignore him like he once did, like he still tried to in vain sometimes.

(And sometimes, he very much didn't want to ignore Jounouchi, wondering if he could catch the other man's attention in return...)

None of that explained why they were in the same cab, though.

Jounouchi tried again to communicate. It hurt to listen to him butcher English to that extent. The cab driver appeared to grow even more irate, threatening to eject them entirely.

Giggles spilled uncontrollably out of him. Of course! Of course, Jounouchi's incompetence got them stranded on the opposite end of the city from their hotel.

Fortunately, he was a snack to look at, even if his brains were nothing to write home about.

Seto's words croaked out of him, repeating in Mandarin what Jounouchi had been trying to convey. God, why did it hurt so much to speak? But even his drunken slur sufficed, earning a grousing retort from the driver that Seto should've just said so sooner while shooting a death glare at his other passenger through the rearview mirror.

At the sound of Seto's voice, Jounouchi jolted in shock, releasing the driver's headrest he had been clinging to. After several awkward moments of staring, he inched closer to Seto, stopping short of touching him. But the proximity and the tight enclosure made Seto's skin crawl. Not in an unpleasant way, though. His body tingled and felt a touch flushed.

How would Jounouchi's skin feel against his?

"You alright there, Kaiba?" asked Jounouchi, seemingly floating closer. He waved a hesitant hand in Seto's face.

Base urges welled up in him. He wanted to grab Jounouchi's hand and bite it, no better than a dog, as he once mocked the other man for being. Better yet, he could drag his tongue across the rough palm and lap at his knuckles. Suck his thick fingers into his mouth and learn contentment from how they could fill his mouth.

Seto was never drinking green tea mixed with whisky ever again.

He managed a small noise of confirmation before he twisted away, curling as best as he could around the seatbelt. Something like a whimper pushed at the back of his throat, but he refused to release it. He wouldn't humiliate himself any further. Just as he wouldn't crawl across the middle seat and cuddle into Jounouchi's lap.

But god, he wanted that so much it hurt.

A warm hand landed on his back, and he nearly surrendered as Jounouchi rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

"It's okay." Jounouchi spoke softly, but somehow it rang louder than the many decibels of Shanghai traffic. "We'll be back at the hotel in time. Just hang in there."

Seto spent the rest of the journey folded into himself, wedged firmly against the side of the taxi, trying and failing not to tremble under Jounouchi's caring touch. With a hushed tone, Jounouchi explained what had happened. It was pure coincidence that he ran into Seto and his "party" at that particular club. (Coincidence is giving chance too much credit. There were only so many high-end nightclubs in the city.) Jounouchi had wandered over to say hi before rejoining his own group. But out of the corner of his eyes, he'd noticed that Kaiba was acting unlike himself. In fact, the entire group seemed a bit off.

Seto was coming to his own conclusion before Jounouchi shared his.

Seto had been drugged. And since he knew better than to take random shit handed to him by strangers, it must've been slipped into his drink. Or maybe it was in the communal cocktail pitcher to begin with.

"They were trying to drag you off to someplace else. Don't ask me where. But you didn't look like you wanted to go, so I stepped in," Jounouchi trailed off. He'd yet to remove his hand, but it sat unmoving, a steadying weight on Seto's back helping to ground him to reality.

"I can't imagine they were happy," Seto muttered.

Jounouchi chuckled. "Not one bit. Acted like I was trying to kill the party. One chick threatened me with her stiletto heel."

"My knight in shining armor." Seto found himself laughing, then regretted it when his head throbbed.

"Don't worry, I didn't hit any of 'em. Mighty tempting, though. I just kinda threw you over my shoulder and high-tailed it outta there. That was how I knew you were really outta it. You barely cursed me out."

Heat associated with both shame and arousal rushed through him. It turned out those biceps he secretly admired weren't just for show.

"Finally, we're here!" exclaimed Jounouchi. His hand also regrettably retreated.

Seto watched blearily as Jounouchi overpaid the driver and leaped out the door. He didn't go far, though. He jogged around the vehicle to Seto's side and yanked open the door. As he leaned in and over Seto to undo the seatbelt buckle, the woody scent of Jounouchi's cologne flooded Seto's nostrils. And his strength was plainly evident as he braced his arms around Seto's shoulders and hip.

"Alright, up we go," urged Jounouchi.

Under any sober circumstance, Seto would've never allowed this to happen. To let Jounouchi touch him, especially as a caretaker. But Seto was the farthest thing from sober, fucked up on whatever combination of alcohol and party drugs he had been unwittingly fed. He didn't have the strength to stand on his own two feet.

So he relied on Jounouchi and his strength. Clung to the man's sweat-slicked neck.

The doorman didn't give them a second glance. Why should he? Seto was simply the latest in an endless stream of drunken guests stumbling back into the five-star hotel.

A lobby concierge approached and tried to help, though. Both Jounouchi and Seto waved him off. Jounouchi likely because he didn't want another stressful not-conversation, and Seto didn't want anyone but Jounouchi touching him right now.

"Hey, what floor?" Jounouchi asked after propping him against the wall of the elevator carriage.

Seto patted down his pockets and was relieved to find his wallet. He didn't expect the fuerdai to rob him blind like a common mugger, but you never knew. He tossed the leather wallet to Jounouchi and croaked, "Key card."

The tournament competitors were provided with single-bed guest rooms. Seto, on the other hand, occupied the Vice Presidential Suite for the week. Their elevator shot toward the top floors, bypassing the dozens of floors between the ground and the suites.

As they ascended, Seto snuck covert glances at the other hand. Despite the air conditioning running at full blast, Jounouchi was still huffing and sweating. Who could blame him? Summer in Shanghai could be blistering.

"Can you walk?" asked Jounouchi when the elevator doors finally parted.

Struck muted, Seto shook his head. His heart raced as Jounouchi wrapped a burly arm around his waist, and together, they hobbled down the hall to the suite's door.

The lights flicked on automatically as they entered, drawing an impressed whistle from Jounouchi as he took in the room.

"Yeah, guess I should've known. You wouldn't be caught dead living like us commoners. Where's the bed in this joint?"

The mention of bed caused something hot and heavy to coil in Seto's navel. Without meaning to, his arm tightened around Jounouchi's neck, which only prompted the other man to grip him tighter, mistaking the action as a plea for more support.

"Bedroom," he moaned, knocking his head against the side of Jounouchi's. He might be imagining it, but he swore Jounouchi shivered and pink flooded down to his neck.

Seconds later, they stumbled into the adjoined bedroom. The spacious room apparently didn't warrant any comments, because Jounouchi deposited Seto on the bed and disappeared from sight.

To say Seto was disappointed was an understatement.

It may be a blessing in disguise. Jounouchi had already done the "decent" thing: extracted him from a dicey situation and brought him to safety. Seto didn't need to embarrass himself in front of the other man any further.

He jumped when a hand grabbed his shoulder, kicking a leg out blindly.

"Relax, it's me."

Silly though it was, Seto did relax as soon as he registered Jounouchi's voice. His firm but careful touch.

"Here. I got you water from the minibar and a cool towel. It's unopened. I promise."

Seto stared helplessly at the two items being offered to him. Jounouchi made no moves, either. They were at a stalemate. At least until the other man sighed and pressed the moist towel to Seto's sweat-dampened forehead. His eyes fluttered closed, and he unleashed a faint moan at how good and chilly it felt.

"C'mon, you gotta drink the water, too. The whole bottle, then I promise to leave you alone."

Panic spiked through Seto's system. Being alone, something he never minded before, suddenly sounded unbearable. He didn't want Jounouchi to leave.

He reached out. Not to take the proffered bottle, as refreshing as its content may be, but to grab Jounouchi's forearm. Jounouchi froze under his clutch.

"You can't leave. I won't let you," said Seto before he could stop himself.

Jounouchi's breath hitched. As he stared at Seto's face, his eyes darkened with something unspeakable. He licked his lips. "Okay, not leaving. Not tonight. Guess someone's gotta keep an eye on you and make sure things don't take a turn for the worse. But you gotta at least let go of my arm. I'll take the couch outside."

Seto slid closer. "I want you—"

Jounouchi gasped. Seto could kiss him at that instant, but his head spun.

He wanted Jounouchi in every conceivable way. Wanted to feel his naked skin against his skin. Wanted to feel his weight pressing down on him as his cock pushed into Seto's hole. Wanted to shatter apart and then let Jounouchi piece him back together in the afterglow, warm and content.

He thought Jounouchi might grant him those things. If only he'd ask for them. But the words remained stubbornly lodged in his throat as sobriety started to creep in on the edges.

"I want you to stay with me," he whispered, holding Jounouchi's shell-shocked gaze.

Tonight and tomorrow. Maybe even for the rest of their lives. One day, Seto would give voice to the whole truth.

Read other prompt fill ficlets here

#yugioh #puppyshipping #violetshipping #joukai #ygo #replies #saiikavon #my fanfiction #writing prompts #phew i didn't expect this one to end up this long when i started writing this morning #definitely just let the vibe carry me on this one #my knowledge of Shanghai nightlife is at least 15 years out of date but i remember drinking so much green tea and whisky #it's a good drink not too overly sweet #but the easier the drink goes down the easier it is to get shitfaced #gonna take a break from tackling more today but I have a long weekend so looking forward to working on more of your guys' requests #watch this space!

[lokisgoodgirl]

Welcome Home [Avenger!Loki x Female Reader] 18+

A link to my Masterlist is HERE   Relationship: Avenger!Loki x  Female Reader Summary: Avenger!Loki comes back early from a mission. Smutty, sleepy mischief ensues (w/c 1.9k) Warnings: Smut. 18+ advised, NSFW, minors DNI! (Consensual) sleep sex.

It had been five long days and four lonely nights since Loki had left on his latest mission, and the fifth night stretched out before you like an unlit country road.

You had caught up on your TV shows, eaten dinner and every tempting snack in the apartment before 9pm. You figured with his return planned for tomorrow afternoon it would be best to have a last-ditch attempt to catch up on sleep. With Loki as your other half, Lord knows you needed it.

   You slipped between the sheets in the bed you and the God of Mischief shared at Avengers Tower on the 62nd floor, the dark grey duvet covers making you sigh with pleasure as you internally praised Loki’s insistence on the highest thread count known to man. He could be a stubborn arse, but the man’s taste in soft furnishings was on point. You checked your phone, no messages. By now the mission should be wrapping up – although Steve was tight on no comms before closing. It shouldn’t be long, no need to worry, they’ll be back tomorrow you placated yourself as you flicked off the lamp.

     Several hours passed. If you hadn’t had a second cup of Nat’s herbal tea that goes straight to your head, then you might have heard the security door bleep apologetically in the alcove to the apartment. A heavy dress coat was laid gently on the chair adjacent to the entrance, two black shoes scuffed from recent fracas slipped off inaudibly as their owner adjusted to the unexpected situation he found himself in.

Loki had been expecting a warm welcome. For his love to jump into his arms with frantic glee at his little trick about when he would return – but it seems that he miscalculated his night owl’s ability to entertain herself without him. He scowled in the darkness, seeing the rumpled outline beneath the sheets in the bedroom. "Right…" he mumbled. He was on the way to the kitchen to pour himself a drink when his Asgardian ears detected a faint noise, he stopped.

"Loki" He turned, his interest roused...had his little minx been playing a game of her own?

He strode towards the door to the bedroom, loosening his silk tie. His eyes focused and a curved smile fuelled by longing tugging at his lips as he put one hand on the doorframe. "mmmm Loki, yes..mm..."

Loki looked across the room at your sleeping form, realisation dawning in his eyes that you were dreaming of him. Of both of you. Doing something very dirty and salacious he had no doubt. Maybe that thing that you were coming around to…or maybe just his tried and tested methods of making your world quake beneath your writhing hips.

___

‘Loki’, He had you bent over the back of the circular sofa on the communal floor of the Tower, the summer dress you wore pushed upwards several inches towards your back as your dark-haired lover devoured you from behind, enthusiastically lapping at your welcoming pussy as you balanced on his face. You could hear him moaning with every thrust of his skilled tongue, his long legs bent together in a V  flush to the floor as he leant backwards, pulling your hips relentlessly towards his chiselled jaw, willing you to smother him, as you gripped the sofa for dear life.

You felt him straighten slightly, his nose brushing your skin as he re-positioned himself. "You’re going to be a good girl for me aren’t you darling, even if Tony Stark walks in here and sees me eating your pretty little arsehole you’re going to stay put and let me finish, isn’t that right?" His hands jolted your hipbones backwards on to his warm tongue, hitting you between your ass-cheeks – the pleasure was immediate and exquisite. "mmmm, Loki, yes..mm.." It felt like he was discovering your body for the first time, your already dripping core was desperate as you pushed your ass back into his waiting mouth, willing him to feast on your like his prey…

___

   In the waking world, the cool air of the bedroom breezed across your skin as the covers were tentatively pulled back to allow your bed-mate access. You had begged Loki many times to wake you up with sex but an opportunity had never presented itself so perfectly until tonight. A sheen of gooseflesh was forming on your clavicle just like it did whenever you were inextricably turned on, and seeing it made Loki’s blood burn hot. In one flash, his three-piece suit was gone. Your face was faintly contorting in silent throes of mysterious passion, low exhales escaping your lips from whatever fantasy was playing within your dormant mind. Although he knew that he was the subject of your altered state of pleasure, a jab of jealously pricked through Loki’s loins – even a dream version of himself would not claim you for his own tonight…

  Lying on your back with one arm angled above your head resting on the pillow and one leg bent at the knee, and your other limbs lying straight, Loki observed that he could not have planned it better himself. He admired the black silk pyjama set you had chosen to wear to bed as he carefully slid his hand down the waistband of your bottoms. He paused as you stirred, re-positioning yourself at the light contact. Your pussy brushed over his digits, making him shiver as wet warmth ghosted his fingertips. You were soaking. All he wanted to do was bury his face in that delicious wetness, but as your body recognised the touch of his fingers you had begun to thrust lightly towards them.

He still had no idea how a mid-guardian woman had undone him so completely in ways he had never imagined. He was yours, completely. Carefully he slipped two fingers inside you, the broken sigh it elicited from you was nectar after five days of absence. He slowly plunged his digits deeper, pressing gently against you, a steady rhythm curved to the waves of your womanhood he knew so well. "Mmmmmm", you moaned. Loki felt his breathing become strained, watching you writhe beneath him under his covert touch. He slid his fingers from your channel, bringing them instinctively to his lips to taste you, Gods he had missed that. Your face had crinkled in displeasure at the loss of contact.

Loki laid down on his side, sweeping his hair over and scooting you several inches towards him in a moment while magicking away your silk shorts. His arm wound its way around your waist, and a wishful theory was proved correct, muscle memory compelled you to roll to your side and push back into his waiting hard-on, even when asleep.

His cock found it’s way instinctively to the gap between your butt-cheeks. He took a moment as it slid through the firm space to appreciate the curve of your perfect ass that never failed to make him unbearably horny. Especially during every mission briefing when you insisted on wearing those damn pencil skirts. He growled quietly...so close to fulfilling your request and yet Gods it was so hard not to ravage you where you lay. He re-angled his hips, his cock throbbing with anticipation of your tight pussy closing around him. His manhood rubbed gently across your folds, edging your clit before retreating and repeating the movement, his whole body tensed.

"Loki" you slurred, your sleep-filled voice drunk with need. Your subconscious being aware of him being so close was intoxicating. Loki drank in the scent of your hair, the skin of your neck as he placed a deep kiss on you shoulder. He entered you.

 The feeling was electric. His cock rippled with pleasure as you took him inch by incomparable inch to the hilt. "Ohhhhh". Your eyelids fluttered at the sensation of being filled – woken by the pressure of something, someone, bearing you down in the most intimate embrace of all.

"Shhhh my love, never fear", Loki whispered in your ear. "I have you…" The hand previously holstered on your hipbone slid down to your clit, using your inexplicable wetness to have you keening in seconds.

Transferring from your vivid sex dream to one of your fantasies come to life in the flesh was almost more than you could bear. You angled your head towards him and drew your God into a feverish kiss, his tongue ravaging yours in a primal display of passion and need as his cock thrust into you.

In the sliver of moonlight that peeked through the curtains, shadows flirting with his defined cheekbones. They were framed by eyes which seemed to express the very core of his soul, his pale skin almost blue in the light against dark curls. The veins in his forearms stood out with the effort not to unleash the whole of his other-wordly strength on your body. You could feel your orgasm approaching as his fingers gently rubbed just above your clit to prolong the sensation. He knew your body so well, it was sinful how he played you. Sometimes you thought it was sinful that you let him.

"I’m going to come, Loki’" you panted slowly in the dark, gripping the forearm that led to your drenched core. A soft chuckle radiated from behind you. "That is rather the plan, darling…just relax, fall into me…" Your cheek rubbed against the silk of the pillowcase as he continued to thrust melodically into you, the crescendo in your loins rising with each gyration of his hips.

    You came for what felt like minutes, a low hum which rose to a deafening roar as Loki played you out to completion. You alternated between moaning loudly into the pillow to stifle your cries, to leaning back to kiss the man responsible. Time stood still as you arched your back against him with his name raining from your lips. You sank back into his arms as he reached his own climax, his hot breath raking in your ear.

You loved when Loki came; heavy and unrestrained. He gripped your hip one more time and pulled onto him, sinking his cock to the depths. Hot liquid spurted inside you as he buried his face in your shoulder. A deep, guttural moan of your name thundered which you could have sworn shook the bed. For several seconds, only low exhales of pleasure and ancient Nordic mutterings could be heard as Loki saw stars.

Five days was a long time for a man of his inclinations to go without sex, and Gods he had missed you.

"Welcome home" you giggled as you turned to face him, cupping his face in your hand. "That was quite an entran-" - You were cut off by the God of Mischief grabbing your wrist and pinning you on your back. "Oh, my sweet girl.." he murmured softly. "I hope you got a lot of sleep while I was away my darling, for you’ll be getting none tonight."

#loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x you #loki smut #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #lokismut #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader smut #loki x yn #hot loki #loki imagine #loki (marvel) #avenger loki #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki fandom

[dozenssporks]

wolfwood, on the phone: you found broom-head where?!

meryl: Like I said, the luggage compartment of a bus heading to North Dakota

vash, shoving his face next to meryl’s so he can shout into the phone: I was gonna see the world’s largest buffalo!

meryl: get off me, dimwit!

*meryl pushes vash away he trips backwards and hits a shelf, several books falling and hitting his head as he slides to the floor*

vash: am I hitting the books or are the books hitting me??

meryl, turning around and ignoring him: he’s jet-lagged out of his mind but he’s hopped up on caffeine or something and won’t take a nap

wolfwood: well, if you’re making him sleep in the motel tub again . . .

millie, who had been passing by with a cup of tea and paused to listen: oh no! we don’t do that anymore, his snores echo in there! Hi, mr. priest!

wolfwood: hey, big girl. What’s he been drinking to get himself so hyper? You know his weird system only gets sleepy when you give him coffee

meryl: there were a lot of cans in that luggage compartment and I did not and do not want to know what they were. Do you have any idea how to get him to sleep that isn’t hitting him on the back of the head with a laptop?

wolfwood: y’see spiky doesn’t like to nap when he’s jet lagged, it--

vash: IT GIVES ME THE HEEBIE-JEEBIES

meryl: stop using your freakishly sharp hearing to listen to our conversation!

millie: mr. vash, be careful! if you jump around like that you’ll spill your tea!

wolfwood: yeah like he said, gives him the heebie-jeebies.

meryl, pinching the bridge of her nose and letting out a long frustrated sigh: what, pray tell, are the ‘heebie-jeebies’?

wolfwood: he has like these weird dreams about spiders an’ stuff crawling on ‘im and he can’t move. Or lizards. I can’t remember.

vash: they take turns! sometimes it’s rats! once it was butterflies drinking my blood!

millie: aw, no wonder you don’t wanna sleep

vash: thank you millie you are the only valid person

meryl: i have very kindly been restraining myself from wringing your neck so shut up!

wolfwood: er. there is a thing that might work.

meryl: please tell me. I’m beginning to remember you get the reward money even if you bring him in dead.

wolfwood: okay, but if you laugh at what I’m about to say you’re a bad person

meryl: I will take that risk. hit me.

wolfwood, sighing: hold his hand while he falls asleep

meryl:

wolfwood: you’re a bad person.

meryl: I didn’t say anything!

wolfwood: I can hear you thinking! Look, hold his hand and after he’s asleep stay in the room. if he starts making noises in his sleep just kinda quietly say his name until he stops.

vash: I refuse to hold hands! I’m saving myself for marriage! that was non-consensual hand-holding!

meryl: okay, two questions. One, how do you know this? Two, does it really work?

wolfwood: it works on the kids back home, I was on the verge of beating his spiky head in, I gave it a shot. Not a hundred percent success rate but fairly high.

meryl: Urgh. I guess it’s easier than getting rid of a body.

wolfwood: that’s the spirit. welp, since this isn’t my problem I’ll sign off. have fun and God bless!

meryl: drop dead!

*meryl hangs up and whips around. vash in the act of trying to climb a shelf freezes in place*

meryl: millie

vash: no. don’t.

meryl: grab him

millie: yes, ma’am!

vash, kicking and flailing in millie’s grip: noooo! you’re so mean! you’re still the only valid person but you’re so mean!

#trigun #a dozen sporks speaks #trigun modern au #trigun on the run au #vash has night terrors #this is entirely ridiculous XD #I'm still not sure what the girls are in this au #somehow still insurances agents? #very dedicated reporters? #he's been avoiding them most of the time so when they're finally on closer terms they're just beginning #to understand the habits of the wild humanoid typhoon #wolfwood is thrilled to have someone else babysit #the roaming charges on vash's phone must be insane

[pillowbelphs]

Cuddling the Demons~

Let me know if you want the side characters!

feel free to request!

xoxo moon

Lucifer;

- will not ask to cuddle. Hell will freeze over before he fully sets his pride aside and admits that he misses your touch and wants to hold you

- if he really misses you, though, he will stop working early (and by early, I mean he won’t be working until 3 am) to come cuddle you

- most nights, you are already asleep by the time he finally crawls into bed

- you always try to stay up, but never manage to do so, and you may not see it, but he always smiles when he sees your sleeping form in his bed after he’s done working

- he’s so large, it’s comforting to you, and to him too; if you’re in his arms, he knows you’re ‪safe, and you know he’d protect you if anything happened

- likes it when you cuddle into his side, so he can leave soft kisses on your forehead while you sleep

- if he feels that your arms are cold, he’ll rub them softly

-  feels less scared to be vulnerable when you’re sleepy, so he often turns into a big mush, especially if he can tell you’re struggling to stay up

- will coo at you if you are

- “my dear, are you tired? you should rest then~”

- if you’re up, he likes to ask about your day during these cuddle sessions, as he’s busy throughout the day most days, so he likes to have this private time where he gets to hold you and hear about what happened that day

- if you say that you missed him, he’d probably squeeze you a bit closer to him

- he won’t say that he missed you too, but he would definitely do things to show it

- once he starts talking about his day, though, you’ll be out like a light

- his voice is just so calming

- yet again, you may not see it, but when he feels your breath becoming more steady, and you stop responding, he’ll smile to himself, leaving more kisses on your forehead and saying goodnight even though he knows you’re asleep

Mammon;

- very needy. it’s one of the most endearing things about him

- he always wants you to be in his arms, so cuddles aren’t just a bedtime thing

- if you’re in the common room, he’ll pull you into his side and cuddle you, even especially if the other boys are around

- if he wants to be more intimate while cuddling, he will throw you over his shoulder to take you to his room to have a bit of privacy

- he likes when he can see your face when you cuddle; he thinks you’re the prettiest thing to exist, so of course he wants to look at you and be able to touch your cheek and stuff like that

- will that stop him from blushing when you smile at him? of course not

- has a habit of tracing little shapes into your skin, especially if you tell him it’s comforting to you

- “oh, you like it when i do that? noted”

- likes to make you feel as comfortable as possible when you cuddle, so you never feel like you have to leave his arms

- the type to make you laugh while you cuddle because he loves seeing you happy

- if you have to get up, he will whine about it. he does not like it when you leave him! he wants to spend as much time with you as possible!

- “no, you can’t leave! i was just getting comfy! come back quick, okay?”

- gets all pouty, like a puppy. if you giggle at him, he’ll to be a little tsundere and grab a pillow or something

- “yeah, who needs you! i can fall asleep just fine with this pillow!”

- will get worried if you don’t come back within five minutes because in reality, he does need you to fall asleep even if he doesn’t want to admit it

- smiles when you come back and pulls you into him again

- “alright, that’s it! no more leaving for the rest of the night!”

Leviathan;

- gets really blushy when you ask him to cuddle

- his bathtub is a snug fit, but so is his lap when he plays video games, so he doesn’t mind either way

- if you ask while he’s at his desk, he’ll start stuttering, wondering why (no matter how long you have been dating)

- “y-you want to cuddle? do you mind if im playing?  no no, you’ll get too uncomfortable in the chair with me, i don’t want you to be uncomfortable”

- but looking at you will make his heart soften, so he’ll push his chair away from his desk to allow you to sit in his lap

- his heart would be racing for the first fifteen minutes, making it hard for him to concentrate on his game

- if he knows you can hear it, it makes him more nervous so lay your head on his chest often, it’s cute

-  will get distracted even more because he wants to look down at you

- because you, the most beautiful person in the world, wants to sit here with him and hold him while he plays video games? of course he wants to see you do it!

- will smile very softly at you before going back to his game he is literally whipped 

- whenever you decide to snuggle your face into his neck, he’ll pull out his earphone jack from his computer so the wire of his headphones isn’t in your way

- is the experience of the game a tad less immersive? maybe

- is his baby comfy? yes

- so it’s worth it to him

- once he’s finished with his game, will carry you into his bathtub

- again, a snug fit, but he doesn’t mind

- he just has to hold you super close, both arms are always around you in a really tight hug

- won’t admit it, but will not let you go even if you tried, he’s so attached to you that he just wants you in his arms always

Satan;

- his room is usually messy with books, so cuddling in the common room is a common occurrence between you two

- not that he minds. the common room is always warm and the couch is comfy

- usually starts off with your head in his lap while he’s reading a book or drinking tea

- unlike lucifer, satan will definitely admit that he wants to hold you or be touching you

- you’re like his personal teddy bear! he loves to hold you, it gives him comfort

- he likes to play with your hair as well, especially if he sees that you like it

- if you ask, he’ll read what he’s reading out loud to you, it will most likely make you fall asleep because he gets really into reading the story which is kind of sexy ngl

- he finds it really cute when you fall asleep on him, he’ll often stop reading to give you some quiet, but will continue petting your head until he’s done

- once he’s done reading, he’ll very gently lift up your head off of his lap and snuggle behind you

- i see satan as someone who really likes spooning you, being the big spoon in particular 

- he likes to feel like he’s protecting you, so he likes to have both of his arms wrapped fully around you

- the type to leave kisses on the nape of your neck or your shoulder in a very sweet way or another way.... ;)

- rubs your tummy if you’re comfortable with that type of thing

- will most likely end up falling asleep with you in his arms as well :3

Asmodeus;

- another boy who is not afraid to admit he wants to cuddle; in fact, he tells you very often that he wants to cuddle!

- “(y/n), can we please cuddle? i’m cold, I want to hold you”

- you always end up with your limbs all tangled

- he likes to be pet. he really, really likes to be pet

- he likes to be appreciated, but likes appreciating you as well!

- you want music on while you’re cuddling? boom, a cute cuddle playlist

- still cold? boom, he finds a nice fluffy blanket

- is always talking to you about his day when he cuddles, asking for your opinions on things

- really values this alone time with you. he doesn’t like sharing, so as much as he likes to cuddle everywhere all the time, he prefers to be alone with you in his room with nice candles lit

- often runs his hands along your back, and giggles if you jump at his touch

- “did i scare you? you’re so cute, you can come closer to me if you want”

- kisses you a lot when you cuddle; your lips are right there, and so are his, so he never misses an opportunity to give you a quick peck or two

-he likes making you feel flustered, which is very easy when you two are so close together, so he often does little things like pinching your butt, kissing the side of your mouth, saying really flirtatious things that make you blush, all so he could tease you about it later

- would give him a solid 9/10 on the cuddling

Beelzebub; 

- he is very blunt about wanting to hold you, even if the other boys are around

- “Can we go hang out in my room? I want to cuddle”

- If you’re busy, he’ll wait until you’re done. he may be impatient, but if he waits for you to finish it means that he gets more time with you! - prefers when you lay on top of him, rather than beside him; he doesn’t want to hurt you by falling asleep and perhaps rolling on top of you, so he likes having you secure and on top of his chest

-  like satan, he likes to play with your hair, especially if he knows it calms you

- often nuzzles his nose into your hair

- “did you change shampoo?”

- “yeah, how did you know?”

- “this one smells fruity.”

- loves to play guessing games on what scented shampoo/conditioner/body wash you used!

- if he needs to get up to grab a snack, he will literally take you with him

- and by take, i mean he’ll hold your legs around his waist and carry you around like a koala

- “......what’s going on” - a confused mammon

“ i’m getting some pudding” - beel, not realizing that seeing him walking around with you like you’re a baby in a baby carrier may look weird to others

- he doesn’t care though, because he’s the one you’re holding, so who is the real winner here? beel

Belphegor;

- another who won’t openly admit to wanting to cuddle, but will most definitely give you hints that he’s needy and wants your attention as soon as possible

- he’ll sigh, say he’s tired, maybe even pull on your sleeve, until you get the hint and follow him to the attic 

- he likes holding you like he holds his pillow, but i see him being the type to enjoy spooning too, especially if you’re the big spoon, although he’ll never admit it

- the type to slide his hands underneath your shirt (consensually) just to feel your soft skin

- a personal little heater, he is so warm

- another boy who really likes to be pet, in fact, it’ll put him to sleep in seconds

- holding you and being in your company in general is comforting enough to make him fall asleep fairly quickly, but when you pet him, he hums such a content sigh before passing out

- will most definitely not let you leave, even if he’s sleeping

- if he feels you get up, he’ll pull on you and hold you even tighter, not letting you get up no matter what the circumstances

- “that’s what you get for trying to leave me, now let’s go back to sleep”

- likes discussing his dreams with you when you both wake up from your naps, especially if they include you

- he knows you like to know that he thinks of you, even in his dreams, so he’ll make sure to tell you those dreams so he can see you smile

- if you’re spooning him, he kisses your hands often, he really likes to hold them and play with your fingers

- if you’re facing each other, he’ll give you really soft kisses on your eyelids when they’re closed, regardless if you’re asleep or not

- a total tsundere, so if you’re awake and you open your eyes when he does this, he’ll roll his eyes

- “you had something on them”

#obey me #obey me imagines #lucifer #obey me lucifer #Lucifer x reader #lucifer x mc #Lucifer imagines #mammon x reader #mammon x mc #mammon imagines #leviathan x mc #leviathan x reader #leviathan imagines #levi x mc #levi x reader #levi imagines #satan #satan x reader #satan x mc #satan imagines #asmodeus x mc #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus imagines #asmo x mc #asmo x reader #asmo imagiines #beelzebub x reader #beelzebub x mc #beelzebub imagines #beel x mc

[yandere-daydreams]

A darling unaware that they have a yan roommate who gives them sleeping pills so they'll stay home. You two get along well, but they seem to really hate it when you go out at night. You think it's sweet they worry about your safety, and even sweeter when they start fixing you a warm drink whenever you come home from work or class every day. And it's strange but it's true you don't feel like going out much these days, you can't help but feel sleepy and doze off after enjoying your tea instead.

tw - use of sedatives, toxic relationships, delusional mindsets, implied somnophilia, non-consensual touching.

They’re really just trying to do what’s best for you.

They’ve never been especially nice, but they care about you. They have a soft-spot for overworkers, little busy-bodies who don’t know when to take a break, and they’ve got an especially tender heart when it comes to you, their roommate, the perpetually exhausted student who can’t seem to justify taking a moment to breathe, let alone a proper break. Helping you get some sleep is the least they could do, really, making sure you get some rest after you drag yourself home from your last shift or never-ending lecture, even if they do have to use some underhanded means to do it. Beyond a few stifled swears when you wake up an hour late, you don’t seem to mind. Or, you haven’t complained, at least. You’ve never been the type to. 

It’s just a bonus that you don’t have time to go out, not like this, not under their watchful eye. You don’t have time to spend with your friends, your other friends, and although they doubt you ever would’ve found a partner with that packed schedule of yours, it’s nice to have another layer of reassurance. It’s nice, the nights you two get to spend together, how warm your body is as they lift you out of your stiff office chair and away from your desk, how perfectly you fit in their arms as they tuck you into bed, where you should be. Unlike you, they know how to take care of themselves. They know how to compartmentalize, how to carve out a sizable portion of their night to do something they enjoy, even if they wish you wouldn’t be so limp as they cuddle into your side, resting their head on your chest and toying with your hair and holding you close, keeping you close, making sure you just don’t have the energy to get yourself into trouble. Sure, their hands wander, sometimes, and they do feel a little bad when you whine about how sore you are, how easily you seem to bruise, all the weird nightmares you’ve been having, lately, but they should get to be a little selfish. 

You’re so much healthier than you used to be, after all. You have someone taking care of you, and you have to be grateful for that.

You just don’t know you have to be, yet.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere prompts #yandere theory #general

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 15.5k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

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<- prev || masterlist || next ->

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: filmed sex/voyeurism/exhibitionism as usual, an extra lil tidbit of exhibitionism this time around though, thigh riding, choking/erotic asphyxiation/breathplay, degradation, dumbification, objectification - all consensual, but y’all wanted meandom jimin so i delivered, please read at your discretion - dom!jimin obv, sub!reader, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, punishment/discipline, footjob kinda (socks are worn, it’s not bare feet), aftercare as usual, mentions and implications of mxm

dedicated to my sfhs girls, everyone in the villa discord, and femboy friday

please note there are hyperlinks in this chapter ! they link to specific images that i thought might help you visualise some things ;) all links are safe

DAY NINETEEN

Your body clearly still isn’t right again by Friday morning, but it’s nothing a good breakfast can’t solve. Fortunately for you, Jin is more than happy to turn it into an occasion for a large, communal meal, and with barely any prompting, he’s whizzing away in the kitchen like a madman.

As you wait, you sip away at some vaguely herby-yet-fruity tea that he’d brewed you, watching his broad shoulders shift beneath his shirt when he chops vegetables, and his brows furrow in focus when he measures out spices.

“I don’t suppose I’d have time to- Nevermind,” Jin mutters at some point, carting a bladeful of crushed garlic from the chopping board to a simmering pan.

You sit up, ignoring the billow of steam from your mug. “Time to what?” He shakes his head, but you keep on him, watching his eyes dart to your figure leaning against the counter, and back at his work. With a gasp, you thrust the mug at him accusingly. “Were you going to put the moves on me?”

He scoffs low in his throat, but doesn’t respond.

“You were! Was making breakfast for me just a ruse, then?”

Jin turns around at that, lifting his brows and giving you a mock look of offense. “It was not! I’m just an opportunist, that’s all.” His shoulders sag. “But I don’t want the meat to burn, and it’s only time before the irresistible aroma of my delicious cooking reaches their doors and draws them down like rats to the pied piper.”

“Are you calling the others rats?” you ask with a giggle bubbling up your throat.

The cook pauses. “I suppose I’m not not calling them rats,” he allows, “but that’s not the point. I’m taking my time with you.” Perhaps the comment would be more sexy or romantic if he wasn’t using a kitchen knife to gesture.

Your interested piqued, you take a slow, thoughtful sip of the quickly-cooling dregs of tea. “You could always tell me,” you offer up, watching his head tilt in curiosity. “Tell me what you would’ve done to me if you weren’t worried about time. Or burning meat.”

His lips part slightly, a strange look in his eyes, like he’s appraising you. “You’re dangerous, you know that?” Though it’s probably meant to come off as a joke, his voice is too soft for it to carry. “If I tell you, I’ll have to change my plans for the prompt. Keep you on your toes?”

“Plans?” you question. “I thought you were an opportunist.”

Even though his back is faced to you, stirring some vegetables amongst the strips of meat, Jin speaks clearly, every word enunciated like it’s a mantra. “I’d kiss you ‘til you couldn’t breathe,” he begins, “and when you were overcome with need, I’d lift you on that counter and get to my knees. Eat you out like you were my last meal. Finally, if you still wanted more, I’d lie you down on the tile and fuck you well like you deserve.”

Your cheeks are hot, searing skin and throbbing pulse. Jin turns around to spoon the cooked stir-fry into a bowl on the countertop, looking far more unaffected than you. His eyes dart to you, a bemused and genuine smile quirking at his lips when he sees you flustered into silence. “It’s your turn,” he remarks in an easy drawl, placing the bowl beside you before he goes to the fridge to retrieve a carton of eggs. “What would you do if you weren’t worried about time?”

You take a breath, nostrils flaring at the rich mix of buttery vegetables and perfectly seasoned meat. “I’ll be honest with you, Jin,” you quip in a small, unobtrusive voice, “I’d probably get you to finish cooking first. This smells fucking incredible.”

Jin’s pealing laugh is punctuated by the cracking of an egg into the still-hot pan, and as the sizzling echoes through the room, you feel the air settle back into something lighter. Good timing, too, as it’s then that you hear footsteps behind you.

Before you can turn, your sides are crushed by a tight back-hug, arms wedged into your sides. “Feeling better?” a smooth voices asks, and you’re surprised to recognise it as Namjoon’s.

The academic had woken before you, so was fully coherent when you’d gotten up with a roiling stomach. With more than a tinge of concern, he’d let you shower first while he’d passed the message on to Jin, the only other awake member of the household. He now smelt fresh, like mint and citrus, and his skin still radiated heat from under his shirt.

He releases you just as quickly as he’d wrapped his arms around you, nothing more than a greeting, and Jin doesn’t even lift a brow at the affectionate display.

Before you can answer however, there’s a fourth party entering the room, a familiar sleepy drawl as Yoongi pads into the kitchen and beelines straight for the coffee machine. “Still sick?”

“Still?” Jin questions, narrowing his eyes in concern as he scrambles the eggs with the corner of a silicon spatula. “How long have you been sick?”

“Just since yesterday,” you deflect, “it’s probably nothing.”

Namjoon goes stiff beside you. “You don’t think it’s...you know? A problem with your birth control?”

Your eyes furrow in confusion before you process his words a moment later. “Oh, I- surely not? I have an implant, so it’s not like forgetting a pill or anything.” But the thought niggles in your mind, and you seek out Yoongi, who slumps against the counter while his drink brews. “It’s not like… morning sickness, is it?”

A disbelieving laugh leaves Yoongi’s lips. You gape at him, but he just waves a hand in dismissal. “Don’t stress about it. You have an IUD, right? They’re 99% effective, and morning sickness generally starts around the six-week period. When did you get the IUD?”

You think back. “Once I cleared all my tests for the show, I guess? I think it was a couple days before we came here. Why?”

Yoongi seems to wake up very quickly after that, face falling slack. “Wait- A couple days? First of all, unless you were having unprotected six roughly two to three weeks before you came here, I highly doubt you have anything more than a slight cold or at the most, food poisoning-” Jin shoots the doctor an accusatory glare, which Yoongi ignores in favour of abandoning his coffee and rounding the corner. “But I think we have a different problem to worry about.”

You blink, your sick stomach returning as his concern starts getting to you. “I wasn’t having sex at all two to three weeks before the show. But what’s the problem?”

Yoongi looks stern, what you imagine he’d look like in his clinic giving serious medical advice to a patient. “Were you on your period when you got the implant?”

Reflexively, your cheeks heat at the personal question, hyper aware of Namjoon, Jin and Yoongi’s collective attention on you. “No. Why?”

“Fuck,” the doctor curses. “Come with me.”

“What’s going on?” You take his outstretched hand, heart racing as he leads you towards the front door, away from the other two who wait in confused and concerned silence. “What’s happening, Yoongi, you’re stressing me out?”

Yoongi’s fingers squeeze yours reassuringly as his face softens, holding the door open for you. “I’ll explain when we get to Sejin’s van, sweetheart, you’re fine.”

Though the sun has well and truly risen, it’s relatively cloudy, and the two of you aren’t even wearing anything more than house slippers and socks as you rush across the gravel towards the production van. There are lights on inside, and Yoongi doesn’t bother knocking before he’s bundling you and him inside.

The van is relatively cramped, some modest floor space with a single bed and then every other surface filled with monitors, paperwork, and a bank of screens displaying the cameras inside the Villa. Sejin, with his bulky headphones around his neck and his chair faced towards you, clearly must have seen you coming, as your sudden entry doesn’t catch him off-guard.

“How can I help yo-”

“Did nobody do their fucking research?” Yoongi spits immediately at him, giving no introduction or pleasantries. “I know there are speakers in the rooms, I know you heard us, so you better start explaining otherwise if you’re not lucky you’ll be facing a massive fucking lawsuit.”

Sejin sighs, his eyes darting to you in sympathy, before they return to Yoongi. “The requirement was that Y/n was on birth control by the time the show began. She was.”

“Yeah, well, not effective birth control,” Yoongi counters.

“The IUD Y/n got is 99% effective. She and all of you signed off that using additional birth control such as condoms beyond that was your choice. If you’ve chosen not to, that’s legally not our responsibility. The condoms have been made available.”

You furrow your brows, finding comfort in his hand tightly cradling yours. “Yoongi, I don’t understand…”

The doctor sighs, pinching his brow, and turns to you. “Y/n, when you got the IUD, did they not warn you about the seven-day window?”

You feel the blood drain from your face, the feeling that bad news is imminent. “What window? No, the lady didn’t say anything.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Yoongi curses, rubbing a palm over his face. “Well, listen up the two of you for a quick lesson in intra-uterine devices. If you aren’t currently on your period, they can take up to seven days to be considered effective. So while it’s highly unlikely that you have morning sickness right now, Y/n, I’m pretty fucking concerned for what may have happened during that first week.”

You bite down harshly on your lip as tears spring to your eyes, you naturally feel yourself wrapping your free arm over your stomach. “How do I- What do I do?”

Yoongi’s face softens at the action, and he turns to Sejin with a sigh. “You need to get an early detection pregnancy test, so that we can know for sure. Plenty of couples have unprotected sex without any pregnancies, so it’s not a definite, but we need to rule it out quickly so that Y/n can decide how she wishes to proceed. How quickly can you get one?”

Sejin, who had been looking greener and greener as Yoongi spoke, finally lets out a rushing breath, jumping up. “I’ll go down to a pharmacy now. Y/n; are you wanting to come with to do it sooner, or...?”

You sniff, shaking your head quickly. “Can you just bring it back here? I don’t want the others to think something’s wrong.”

Sejin nods stiffly, patting you once on the shoulder as he passes you. “I’m so sorry, Y/n, Yoongi’s right. We should’ve done more research. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Yoongi goes lax the second Sejin shuts the van door behind you, pulling you into a tight hug. “Either way, you’ll be just fine. You always have options,” he assures you, cheek pressed to your hair, rubbing your back.

Like your mind is desperate to find something to relieve your sudden crashing wave of stress, a hysterical laugh jumps out of your throat. “A fucking pregnancy scare,” you bemoan, “this is meant to be slutty Bachelorette but it’s just a slutty telenovela.”

Yoongi freezes when you begin laughing, but quickly falls in on the joke. “I even have a secret twin,” he jokes. “We better keep an eye out to make sure Jin doesn’t fake his death to steal the show’s budget.”

You sink further into his secure embrace, chuckling at his remark but quickly sobering up. “What am I gonna do, Yoongi? I can’t have a baby, especially not if it’s some- some mutant mix of seven different dads!”

“Sweetheart, please don’t stress yourself over it before you even know,” Yoongi pleads. “If it’s any consolation, that’s not how biology works at all. That would make for a riveting episode of Jeremy Kyle, though.”

You let out a groan. “God, how would they fit eight armchairs on the stage?”

Yoongi chuckles, smoothing a hand down your back before he gently breaks the hug. “Do you want to stay here, or go back inside and get something to eat? We don’t have to tell the others; Jin and Namjoon are mature enough not to ask pry, especially if there are others around.”

Your growling stomach answers the question for you.

Inside, Jin and Namjoon stay quiet just as Yoongi had anticipated, the former simply announcing that you were just in time for breakfast.

The table was set, most of them already seated, and you gape at the impressive display. The stir-fry from earlier, several individual small bowls of rice, a deep brown broth, scrambled eggs, and even some rice porridge fill the table.

Taehyung, Jungkook and Hoseok are on one half of the table, Jungkook looking like it physically pained him to restrain himself. Jin at one end, an empty space at the other, and the final long edge has Namjoon sitting beside two place for you and Yoongi. Just as you open your mouth to voice the absence, Jimin comes around the corner from the stairs and snags a place on the head of the table beside Taehyung.

You wish him a good morning as you sit, the smells of all the different dishes mingling in your nose the second your butt hits the seat. “Sorry for holding you all up,” you apologise, pasting a smile on your face even as your insides still wriggle in anxious tension. “Thank you for the meal, Jin.”

“Anytime,” he deflects, and like that word was a command, Jungkook bursts into action, shoveling food into his bowl like he’s on the verge of starvation. Jin sighs, reaching for the stirfry. “Quickly, before the vulture gets it all.”

Breakfast, once you force yourself to enjoy it and stay in the moment, is impeccably delicious and a lot of fun. As it turns out, Taehyung’s been making good use of his free schedule, and he regales the table with anecdotes of teaching Mango a number of ‘useful’ tricks like high-fiving, playing dead and turning in tight circles to beg for a treat. It’s while watching a video of the small white dog lolling out her tongue after Taehyung pretend to shoot her with his fingers shaped like a gun that there’s a sudden knock at the door.

Immediately, the thought of the pregnancy test comes to mind, and you’re rushing to the door before anyone else gets the chance.

What you don’t expect to open the door to, however, is a simple delivery worker, with a decently large box under one arm and a small electronic pad in the other. You stare blankly at the man as he consults the label on the box. “Looking for a Jung Hoseok,” he states gruffly, eyes barely reaching you from under a yellow cap branded with the company logo.

Your eyes widen, and you turn back, calling through to the kitchen. “Hobi, it’s for you!”

Rather than returning to your seat, you wait in rapt curiosity as Hoseok practically skips to the front door, smoothly signing off the package with an easy grin. Once he takes it and shuts the door behind the already-departing delivery man, you press against his shoulder to catch a glimpse at the label.

Though Hoseok tugs it away from you with a tut, and you aren’t able to read the packing sticker, you manage to take note of a dark red stamp inked heavily on the top left corner of the box. Two Rs, back-to-back with lush flicks on the outer downward strokes.

The dom parades the box around the foyer, making sure he’s visible to the rest of the guys at the kitchen table, before taking it upstairs with a spring to his step.

Taking a seat again, you let out a disbelieving whoosh of air. “I think it’s from his work,” you tell the others conspiratorially.

Jungkook’s eyes widen, his right cheek stuffed with meat he’s pushed to the side. “Like the Red Room? Kinky stuff?” he questions with a slight lisp, before chewing frantically and swallowing the food. “Are we allowed to do that?”

“It seems so,” Jimin murmurs, his eyes glinting with interest. “Just because we can’t go out doesn’t mean we can’t bring stuff to us, I suppose.”

Jin watches the two youngest with a strangely amused look on his face, twirling his chopsticks against the tabletop. “I’m surprised the two of you have kept quiet so long?”

Jungkook frowns. “Huh? Oh!” Suddenly, his and Taehyung’s faces light up in unison, glancing down at themselves.

Taehyung claps the table in excitement, staring at you, Yoongi and Jimin. “Do you know what day it is today?”

“Friday,” Yoongi answers shortly. “Is it a public holiday or something? It doesn’t really matter if we’re still stuck in here, does it?”

“No, hyung,” Jungkook enthuses, “do none of you go on TikTok? It’s femboy Friday!”

Jimin furrows his brows in utter confusion. “It’s what?”

In their haste to stand up, Taehyung and Jungkook just about tip their chairs over, knocking the table with their knees. Your mouth drops as you see instead of sweatpants or jeans, both boys are sporting skirts.

“Femboy Friday,” Taehyung repeats with a shy smile as Jimin’s eyes rake shamelessly over his figure, “we’re saying fuck toxic masculinity and celebrating feminine boys and proving that clothes don’t have gender all in one! Namjoon, don’t you love it?”

Namjoon, to his credit, manages to nod dumbly, but it seems like that’s his only remaining executive function as his jaw hangs slack, eyes wide.

You can’t blame him, however. You can’t stop looking at the two either. Jungkook has a casual, loose black t-shirt tucked into a high waisted skirt that’s the same shade. Tight around his hips and flaring in an a-line down his thighs, silver chains and buckles give it an edgier look. As he does a twirl, you catch a glimpse of the definition the fabric gives his ass, everyone watching with rapt attention.

Taehyung, on the other hand, has gone for a sweeter look, with a white blouse tucked in to a dove grey plaid skirt that falls in perfectly ironed pleats. It’s relatively cool inside, so he’s shrugged on a cream-coloured jacket somewhat reminiscent of a school blazer. It’s clear by the tentative smile and blushed cheeks that he’s more shy about the getup than Jungkook is; the latter stands tall with folded arms, like he’s daring you to say something.

Once the rest of you at the table get over the initial shock, followed by the silent awe and appreciation, it��s Jimin who speaks up first, his lips parted in a shocked pout. “Why did nobody tell me?”

Jungkook blinks. “Huh?”

Jimin pushes his chair back, brows furrowed. “Where was this announced? I wasn’t informed.”

Taehyung sends him a boxy grin, his skirt swishing with the slightest movement. “It’s a TikTok thing, Minnie! You should do it with us!”

Jimin tilts his head with a thoughtful hum. “I’m not sure that I have any skirts in my suitcases. Some lingerie, sure, but not-”

“Oh, I just got mine out of the little costume wardrobe in the cupboard,” Taehyung explains easily, jumping forward to tug at Jimin’s arm. “I got a schoolgirl one, but I saw a cheerleader one in there too, come on!”

Your mouth hangs open as the two rush away, and Yoongi splutters, clapping a hand on the table to punctuate his shock. “Wait, sorry, I must’ve- wait,” he babbles, shaking his head in disbelief, “Jimin has lingerie? I’m making tomorrow Panties Saturday.”

Jungkook giggles. “Hyung, that’s not how it works! Femboy Friday is like, a thing, you know? Tae and I made a video earlier and it’s already doing numbers. If we all did it, I bet we’d go viral!”

Yoongi winces. “In my line of work, ‘viral’ is not a good thing.”

You turn to him with a grin. “Come on, Yoongi,” you entice warmly, “it would really cheer me up.”

Keeping your mind off other things is definitely a priority now, and by Yoongi’s reluctant sigh of defeat, you know he knows it. “I don’t want to wear a skirt,” he states, “my legs get cold easily. Is there any compromise of some sort? Anything else I can contribute to the cause?”

It seems you and Jungkook get the idea at the same time, judging by the way his eyes light up.

Before Yoongi can voice his concern, a triumphant clearing of a throat catches the room’s attention. Looking demure in his schoolgirl-esque getup, Taehyung stands tall in the doorway, glancing behind him. “Announcing,” he calls out more noisily than is needed, “the head cheerleader himself, Park Jimin!”

When Taehyung had mentioned cheerleader, and again now, you’d expected the typical red get-up, maybe a sweeter, more innocent look, but at this point in the show it’s about time you realise that Jimin never restricts himself to the obvious route, preferring to defy expectations.

Stepping into the gap Taehyung leaves for him and resting an elbow casually against the doorframe, Jimin looks like the type of student that would run the team with an iron fist. Or, judging by the rings laden on his hands, a silver one. It looks like the only things he’s taken from the cheerleader costume is a pleated pink skirt and some white thigh-high stockings, slipping slightly on the foyer tile. A simple but sexy Gucci shirt is tucked into the obscenely high waistband. Though the logo is gold, red and green, stamped onto the centre of the white fabric, it doesn’t clash with the skirt, instead making an addicting contrast. Shrugged on top, loose around his arms, is a black jacket with red and gold detailing on the shoulders. His gaze is piercing and superior, wearing the skirt like it’s armour as he slinks forward and sits in the chair with a smug look on his face.

Your mouth feels dry. Reminded of the last time he wore more typically feminine attire, it’s like the temperature of the room has increased by several degrees. “I think this is my new favourite day of the year,” you admit quietly, though it carries well enough in the awed room. “You guys look incredible.”

Jimin smirks. “Who’s next, then?”

Jungkook brightens up, wiping the corner of his lip surreptitiously. “Yoongi! Hyung, we need makeup; lots of it.”

Yoongi blanches. “You what now?”

Jin sits forward eagerly. “Wait; if we’re all making ourselves look pretty, I want in. I’ve always wanted to look like the rich hot mom from Parasite,” he divulges openly, turning to you. “Y/n, do you have some jewellery I can use?”

You grin. “I guess so. I know Jimin has some too, and I think Jungkookie? We can get you iced up. Ah, I feel like a little girl dressing up paper dolls. Let’s go get some supplies and we can make a day of it!”

You stand up too quickly, head lurching and stomach protesting, and like the crashing of a freezing wave, you feel dread wash over you. Before you can even dwell on it, Jin’s behind you, steadying you and holding you upright against him.

“Alright?” he asks in a low voice as the others begin to discuss a game plan.

You nod. “Just stood up too quickly.”

Jin’s mouth twists, unconvinced with your answer. “Let’s go upstairs and raid your closet. Take a breather.”

Leaving the others behind, you let the noise drop away as Jin carefully leads you up the stairs and to your room, sitting you carefully on your bed.

You collapse back against the mattress, feeling weak now that the pressure in your head is beginning to recede. Unsurprisingly, Jin doesn’t immediately beeline for the wardrobe or set of drawers. The springs adjust to a shift in weight. Jin’s hands finds one of yours, wrapping it between the two and squeezing it in reassurance. You’re smart enough to recognise this as the start of a Talk, capital letter intended.

“I’m worried about you,” he starts softly, his voice warm and comforting like cotton. “You don’t have to feel obligated to tell me a thing, and I know I’m no medical expert like Yoongichi, but I do know a lot about sex and relationships, and I know that surprises and accidents can happen. I’m here for you in any capacity you need, Y/n. Any at all.”

You swallow, staring at the slightly uneven, off-white paint on the ceiling. “I might be pregnant. It’s a big might but, you know…”

Jin’s hand tightens on yours briefly at that word, like a flexing of muscle, and relaxes again. “The not-knowing is still scary,” he finishes lightly.

“Yeah.” With a frown, you focus your awareness inwards, feeling your stomach rise and fall with your breath. “I don’t feel pregnant. But then- how the fuck would I know what that felt like?”

Jin is silent for a moment. “That isn’t really something I could help with, sadly.”

You huff out a humourless laugh through your nose. “It’s fine, Jin. I appreciate your concern. Sejin’s bringing back a test soon, hopefully, and then I can just… deal with it then.”

“Do you wanna talk about what those results would mean for you? What you feel about the possibility of-”

“Absolutely not,” you cut in sharply, sitting up so quickly that your vision spots. “I’m refusing to dwell on it until I have an answer.” You swallow down the nausea that rises in your throat the more you think about it, turning to face him. “If you wanna help, Jin, and I can’t thank you enough for wanting to- then just distract me.”

Jin pauses, nods, then a grin stretches across his face. “Deal.”

--

“This is ridiculous,” Hoseok huffs for the hundredth time, nails digging in to the arms of the chair he’s sat at. “It could’ve been anyone else but him. Y/n, why didn’t you help?”

You beam innocently, watching as an equally tight-lipped Jimin settles on a stool in front of the dom, a palette of brown and beige pressed powders and a small brush in hand. “Minnie’s way better than me at it, Hobi. Don’t you wanna look pretty?”

“I chose to pass this in the truth or dare game for a reason.” Hoseok tenses and recoils violently when Jimin’s hand lifts suddenly towards his face. “He’s going to make me look ugly on purpose,” he accuses.

Jimin scoffs, hand falling again. “Are you going to keep talking about me like I’m not here?”

“Ideally, yes.”

The blue-haired man tuts, lazily swirling the soft, short bristles over a particular shade, collecting more pigment. “It would be easier to make you look ugly, but I always relish a good challenge. Don’t worry; you’ll thank me when I’m done.”

“I most certainly will not,” Hoseok pouts stiffly. “Just get on with it, Peaches.”

Jimin’s hand overshoots and streaks a thick tan line on the strip of naked skin between his short skirt and thigh-high stockings. “Fuck. Keep your mouth shut, Jung.”

“You said you’re just doing the base stuff, why does my mouth need to be shut?” Hoseok complains.

Jimin levels him a glare. “Because if you open it, I’ll shove this down your throat and use you as storage.”

“Kinky,” Hoseok banters back, but settles into silence, only flinching slightly when Jimin raises the brush to his face again, dabbing delicately at Hoseok’s dainty nose.

Like some sort of makeshift salon - the second time all eight of you had gathered together to do so - the dining table has been transformed. At the head, Hoseok and Jimin glare at each other with less than a ruler’s length between them. Jungkook and Taehyung have descended on Yoongi like makeup kiosk employees, gushing over his smooth skin and graceful eye shape as the man protests noisily but otherwise seems very content being fussed over.

Jin is wearing enough necklaces, bracelets and earrings that he jingles with the slightest movement, of which there are many as he compulsively makes the eyeliner on his lids longer and thicker and longer again. The brief moments of silence that descend usually consist of him holding up the hand mirror and staring intensely at his reflection, sometimes holding it close enough that his breath fogs it up.

And finally, you and Namjoon are in between the three parties, the academic patiently holding his hands steady as you file away at his nails, shaping them a bit. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” you check in.

Namjoon immediately shakes his head, leaning in closer to watch your motions and the dust shavings that pile up on the folded paper towel beneath your hands. “I’ve always wanted to get my nails done,” he says, voice a casual low timbre.

That surprises you. “Really?” you ask, gently tugging on his hand so he can present his thumb for filing.

“Well,” he amends quickly, “always since yesterday.” At your bewildered laugh, he cracks a sheepish grin and explains. “One of the fans sent in something mentioning it when I visited the confessional booth at lunchtime. It’s sort of been on my mind since then.”

“I’m glad I can help you fulfil this lifelong dream of yours then, Joonie,” you remark with a smile of your own. It’s impossible not to cheer up in Namjoon’s company, your heart always feels lighter in his vicinity. “Are you wanting a colour? I don’t have many, sorry; Jin’s hogging the white and the pink.”

“It’s for a French tip,” Jin calls out imperiously, never one to miss his name mentioned in conversation. You know he’s chosen to help himself so that he can quietly keep an eye on you, and the thought makes you feel more secure and unburdened, appreciative of his attempts to keep your mind occupied. “It’s high class fashion, baby.”

“Maybe in 2010,” Jungkook retorts without glancing away from the blush he’s patting onto Yoongi’s cheeks. “These days it’s all about nail art, hyung.”

Namjoon pipes up. “Like drawing pictures and stuff on the nail? I think some of the girls in my class get those.” He gasps, wriggling in his seat as he turns to you with as much urgency as he can while his hands stay still in your loose grasp. “Do you think you could do that?”

You laugh self-consciously. “I’m not really an expert,” you begin, but Namjoon’s look of veiled disappointment is too much to bear, “but I could give you some nail stickers? They’re just like, love-hearts and stars and leaf patterns and stuff, but-”

With a gasp Namjoon leans forward. “Can I have the leaf ones?” After receiving your confirmation, his knee jiggles under the table in suppressed excitement as you pick up a bottle of nude base coat, the colour of milky tea with a hint of pink to warm it up a bit. You’d used it many a time when you just wanted something plain, and it’ll serve you well today as a blank canvas. Namjoon holds his breath as you uncap it and hold up his pinky finger, carefully coating the smallest fingernail in the glossy polish.

His hands are warm, pliant under your grasp. As he goes quiet to let you focus, the sounds of the rest of the room fill in the vacuum.

“You get that away from my eyes,” Yoongi hisses at one point, making his two stylists tut in reproach.

“It’s just an eyelash curler, hyung,” Taehyung defends, Jungkook providing a resounding ‘yeah!’ in the background. “People use them all the time, it doesn’t hurt.”

“People wax and get tattoos and piercings all the time, Taehyung, and those are still painful. You will not be using that medieval torture device on any part of me.”

Taehyung huffs, and you hear a petulant clank as he drops it back onto the table. “Enjoy your boring straight lashes then, Min Yoongi.”

“I will, actually,” he retorts automatically. “Are you almost done? I feel like I’ve dunked my face in cake flour.”

“Not even close,” Jungkook responds cheerily. “Now it’s time for the fun part though, don’t worry.”

“And what’s the fun part?”

A familiar sticky thwack echoes through the room. “Lip gloss,” he declares with a pleased voice.

Just as Yoongi lets out a pitiful groan, Hoseok gasps from the other end of the table. “Jimin,” he squawks in offense, “why aren’t you giving me lip gloss?”

Jimin just about growls in response. “I said not to move,” he chastises, “now you’ve gone and fucked up the smokey eye, so thanks a lot.”

“I believe you’re the one that fucked up, Jimin,” Hoseok answers haughtily, “a poor worker blames his tools.”

“If you’re calling yourself a tool, I’d be inclined to agree,” Jimin responds, his tone clipped in a way that means he’s focussed. “Okay, that’s looking better. And we’re not doing lip gloss, it looks tacky.”

Finished with the bottom layer on both of Namjoon’s hands, you glance up in just enough time to see Jungkook gasp and turn Yoongi around violently, presenting him like a piece of evidence in court.

Jimin appraises him silently, Yoongi blinking and waiting for his opinion. Taehyung and Jungkook have done a great job, giving him delicate hints of pink shadow just under the outer corners of his eyes, short swoops of eyeliner and baby pink lips coated with a thick sheen of gloss reflecting the light. With an indignant tut, Jimin turns back to Hoseok. “It looks tacky unless you’re Yoongi,” he corrects.

Yoongi seems more content than Hoseok with the answer, and steals Jin’s mirror to inspect himself. He tilts it every which way, mouth slowly opening. “I do look kinda hot, don’t I?”

“See?” Jungkook cheers with a small pump of his fist. “We did good, right? Oh. Jin-hyung, do you need the mirror back? Wait, let us help you! We come highly recommended, Taehyung and I.”

Tuning out the others, you turn back to Namjoon. “Okay, let’s put on some stickers.”

It takes the rest of the morning for everyone to finish up, but none of you seem in a rush. Yoongi, routinely smacking his lips together to feel the texture of the gloss, starts getting different dishes together to make some lunch, and his two little helpers go over to make Jin look like the tiger mom of his dreams. Jimin can’t hide his pride at how well Hoseok’s smokey eye and peachy lip turn out, and Hoseok can’t help but admit that he likes it. Namjoon covers each nail in a thoughtfully selected and arranged sticker, and keeps cooing over them as you cover them in a clear top coat.

Finally, when all of your boys are prettied up and you’re just about to tuck in to lunch, there’s a knock at the door.

You rush up to answer, and this time it is in fact Sejin. He looks harried, chest heaving like he rushed to get here, and before you can even greet him he’s thrusting a brown paper bag towards you.

“Traffic,” he gasps out, “I’m so sorry about the wait, there was a hold-up. I got you it,” he murmurs, before raising his voice so the others - who are no doubt listening in with curiosity - can hear, “so I got you the ginger pills for your stomach, and then just some vitamins that the lady at the counter told me were good for immune systems. Take it easy. Send me a text if you need anything, or if you don’t need anything.”

His voice sounds so awash with concern, his eyes softened in sympathy even as he looks out of breath from getting back here as quickly as possible, that you throw yourself at his chest and wrap your arms around him in a quick hug. He stays frozen for a moment, then pats your back and squeezes your shoulders fondly once you pull away. “Thanks, Sejin,” you say with a smile, “I’ll be sure to let you know.”

When you shut the door lightly behind him and poke your head into the main room, where everyone’s acting like they were’t eavesdropping (Jungkook and Taehyung are thumb-wrestling, Jimin has grabbed Namjoon’s hand to inquire about the little leaf stickers, Hoseok’s turned his face a full one hundred and eighty degrees from you, staring wistfully out the window, and Jin and Yoongi share a look). “I’m just going to duck upstairs and take some of the ginger pills and the vitamins he got me, I won’t be long. You can start without me; don’t let it get cold.”

Though you try and stay calm, when you shut yourself in your bathroom, your hands are trembling. The thin cardboard box tears as you open it, a thick folded wad of instructions and warnings falling out. The longer you take, the more suspicious it is, so you just scan over them to get a general idea. Piss on a stick, you think to yourself, how hard can it be?

So nervous that your muscles lock up, it’s hard enough to actually do even that, but once you’re done, you wash your hands and the handle of the small white stick, and wait. Unable to look, you leave it on the counter and sit on the toilet seat lid, feeling your heart race a million miles a minute. Breathe.

A knock on the door makes you startle violently, a hand instinctively rising up to press against your chest. With a racing heart, you call out to ask who it is.

“It’s us,” Yoongi’s voice echoes through the door. “Me and hyung, I mean. Is it the- the test, sweetheart?”

Opening the door, you let the two men in with a silent nod, returning to your stoop. “Just waiting,” you explain when they glance at the plastic stick on the counter. Your voice has never felt so small and distant to you. It makes you want to curl into yourself and disappear.

Yoongi hovers near the test, checking his watch, but Jin immediately comes over to you, smoothing your hair back and pressing your head and shoulders against his torso. You slump into him, into the embrace that always reassures you. Jin smells still like his cooking, and breathing it in gives you some small comfort.

The three of you don’t speak. There’s nothing to say; not yet, not when you still don’t know. Yoongi stands by the test like a guard dog, not looking himself, and Jin rubs your back and strokes your hair, holding you close.

After what feels like a cold eternity, Yoongi consults with his watch again and clears his throat lightly. “Do you want to come and check, sweetheart?”

You get the thought of you leaving Jin’s hold, of going up there and taking the piece of plastic and seeing two blue lines, and you shake your head, pressing yourself more firmly against Jin. “Can you just… Can you check it and tell me?”

As Yoongi turns to pick it up, you feel yourself tense. Two blue lines, your mind chants over and over, and even as you’re terrified you’re going to somehow conjure that result by thinking too hard about it, you can’t stop.

The plastic rattles against the counter, and you’re watching his face, eyes narrowed on his expression with laser focus. He picks it up, looks at the result, and the slightest exhale gives him away. A tiny puff of breath, his shoulders dropping an inch and the line between his brows smoothing out. Your heart soars in raw relief even before he confirms, “you’re not pregnant, Y/n.”

Even though you’re happy, so grateful of fate working in your favour, the underlying fear of the past few hours comes crashing down on you like a tsunami, and you burst into tears, your whole body shivering and juddering with sobs that you muffle against the soft fabric and solid chest you’re leaning on.

“Hey, hey,” Jin’s voice calls to you in a soothing croon, “you’re okay, baby, you’re fine. You’re safe.”

The reassurance only makes you wail harder, feeling so unburdened, so unanchored, like you could float away were it not for your grip on his sleeves. He rocks you gently, back and forth as his fingers card through your hair and cradle your back. It’s not until you hear the hollow clatter of the test going in the trash can that you feel the ghost of your fear and worry leave you, and finally you go slack against him, tears dried up.

As you sit up and dab at your eyes, Yoongi passes you a tissue to properly clean yourself up and Jin pats your hair back down. “Sorry,” you pipe up with a croaky voice, “I got your shirt messy.”

Jin smiles softly and offers you a hand to stand with. “Never you mind that, young lady.” He’s quite a sight to see now; even with a soft expression, his eyeliner is sharper than the point of a knife and the imperious dark red of his lips makes anything less than a grin look pouty and dramatic. “Do you want us to let the others know you’re feeling under the weather? I can bring some food up here for you? Are you too cold? Too hot?” You giggle tearily as he lays his hand across your forehead and pinches your cheeks lightly, clucking in worry.

“I’m fine,” you reply. “I’ll take ten minutes or so to calm down a bit and then I’ll join you all. Can you just tell them I’m on the phone with a friend or something? I won’t be long.”

Jin furrows his brows. “Are you sure? If you need anything, I’m here for-”

“Hyung,” Yoongi chides gently, “let’s give her a breather.”

By the way Jin sucks in a deep breath and nods stiffly, it might be him that needs the breather. Yoongi drags him away as you thank them, and soon enough you’re once again alone in the bathroom.

Stumbling on weak legs to your bed, you all but collapse onto it, feeling totally devoid of energy. You just need a moment to recharge, that’s all. Just need a moment to acknowledge that no, there isn’t a life form inside you right now, and yes, everything can go back to normal.

And if it’s well over ten minutes by the time you make it back downstairs to reheat your portion of lunch, no one mentions it.

--

The afternoons are often a lazy affair in the Villa. Unless you’re off getting fucked (not uncommon, of course) you tend to hang around in the lounge with whoever’s in the mood for socialising, and put something on TV.

You’re starting to realise that perhaps there are better uses of your time, which is why when Namjoon asks how Jimin got so good at makeup, you enthusiastically accept Jimin’s generous offer to be his model.

Once again your communal area gets renovated into a mini studio fit for purpose. Two of the couches are pulled closer together, a tight arrow shape around the coffee table corner. As is often the case, Yoongi and Jin are noticeably absent, with Namjoon and Jungkook on one sofa, leaning forward in their eagerness, and Taehyung and Hoseok on the other, the younger looking like he’s just about to fall asleep on Hoseok’s shoulder.

You perch on the edge of the table between them with nervous anticipation as Jimin darts upstairs to collect his tools. “How come you’re wanting to learn, Namjoon?” you ask lightly.

The academic scratches his neck lightly, knee bumping against Jungkook’s as he shifts in place. “It’s interesting, and I love learning new things,” he states, his voice lilting up at the end.

Jungkook nudges his elbow into Namjoon’s side. “He thinks Jimin’s focusing face is hot.”

“I did not say that!” Namjoon insists, but the violent blush in his cheeks betrays him. “I enjoy watching, that’s all.”

“I’m sure you do, hyung, I’m sure you do,” Jungkook commiserates with a wise and somewhat sarcastic nod, but before Namjoon has any further chance to defend himself, you hear the thud of socked feet coming down the stairs.

Jimin’s skirt flounces around his thighs with every step as he rushes back in, a heavy-looking back held against his chest. He pauses in front of you, breathing slightly elevated. “Up you get,” he instructs.

You do so without thinking, but then stand awkwardly beside the coffee table as he takes your spot and dumps the makeup bag beside him. “Where do I sit?” you ask hesitantly, but Jimin just pats his thigh wordlessly.

Glancing out at the four onlookers, you suck in a breath and place yourself delicately on his lap, perpendicular so that your shoulder is against his chest and you’re facing Namjoon. Clearly it wasn’t what he was after, as Jimin clicks his tongue with a huff and grabs you under the knee, parting your legs so that you’re facing him, balanced on a single, stocking-clad thigh.

Your eyes widen as you’re suddenly face-to-face with him as he raises a brow at you. “Namjoon wants to learn, little mouse,” Jimin instructs, “so you’re going to be nice and still for me, right?”

You’re hyper aware of the pressure of his corded thigh against your core, even through your loose cotton shorts, and the four sets of eyes on you that are just outside your peripheral. “Yes, Jimin.”

His eyes darken in disapproval, fingers tightening on your knee. “A good doll doesn’t make any noise either,” he chastises. “Pinch me if you want out, otherwise stay still and be quiet.”

You swallow, recognising his introduction of a non-verbal safeword. But there are others watching, and he was just meant to be doing your makeup. Your eyes dart to risk a glance at the others, blurry in the very corner of your eye. They’ve gone dead still, Jungkook and Namjoon still leaned inwards towards you, Taehyung close to Hoseok but definitely no longer napping. You aren’t allowed to nod or say yes, so you give your lack of response as confirmation.

Jimin lets out a short hum and drops his gaze from you, unzipping the makeup bag. “Lots of steps in makeup have to do with personal preference,” he explains, glass, metal and plastic clattering together as he draws out a bottle. “But starting with primer is like prepping a canvas, so it’s always a solid first step.”

For a moment you’re confused, before you recall that Jimin’s teaching this all to Namjoon. He glances at the academic briefly, giving you a glimpse of his graceful side profile before he turns back and clicks open a narrow tube, piping some of the creamy formula on the back of his hand. When he dips a clean beauty blender into it, collecting it on the narrower end, you notice it glistens just slightly.

“I ran this under the tap upstairs to get it damp,” Jimin continues, and you fight the urge to flinch when you feel it begin to dab along your nose, spreading out to your cheeks. “These blenders are good because the sponginess is a good texture to make everything smooth, but they’re so absorbent that if they’re dry they’ll suck up half the product. If they’re a little damp, you won’t need as much.”

You can’t bring yourself to meet Jimin’s gaze, or even lift your eyes to his face at all, far too intimidated by the proximity. Instead, you watch the rhythmic way his chest rises and falls, rippling the Gucci logo on his white shirt. The afternoon had brought a low, hot sun, and all of you had stripped off any outer layers. Jimin was no different, ditching the jacket, and you can just make out his upper arms flexing past the short sleeves before the blender gets a little too close to your eyes, and you snap them closed.

“Once you’ve done that, I’d go in with a foundation…” Jimin lets out a small sigh through his nose. “This shade won’t really match exactly, but it’ll do. Finding the perfect shade is like finding a pair of shoes that fit just right, it can take ages but once you’ve got it, you’ve got it. Unless you go and get a tan.”

Slowly you begin tuning Jimin’s voice from coherent sentences into one smooth, lulling river. Soft whispers of brushes and cool swipes of liquid make your skin tingle, and the solid, unmoving presence of his thigh between yours anchors you in the moment.

After every step, or whenever there’s a specific technique to show off, you feel the searing heat of his fingers on you, turning your head to the side with a tight grip on your chin, displaying you to the others. Every time, that heat moves downward, pooling in your core.

“Eyes open,” a voice rings out, short with impatience.

Upon following his command, you focus on his face with a few blinks, just in time to see him come at your eyes with a narrow, pointed brush. Instinctively jerking away, you gasp when the movement causes you to grind against him slightly, pleasure blooming at the friction.

With an annoyed curl of his lip, Jimin uses the hand not holding the brush to grab your chin again, fingernails digging in and pulling you closer. “Stay still,” he hisses, and lets go after you freeze into place again.

This time, when he brings the brush back up, it goes not onto your eyes, but above onto your brows, and you remain obediently motionless as you feel the stiff brush press on something powderlike. As he explains its purpose and use to Namjoon, however - the other three watching just as intently - you don’t listen to his words, instead directing all your focus downwards.

If you move, just slightly, the smallest shift of your pelvis, you can press your clothed clit against the strip of bare skin between his skirt hem and the stockings, where the flesh is stiff with tensed muscle. You watch his face as closely as you dare, wary of a reaction, but there’s none.

It’s not much, and it’s not nearly enough, but you sate yourself on that dull pleasure as he finishes your brows, and begins working on some eyeshadow. He takes longer here, dipping into different shades with pretty names that you forget the second you hear them, because it’s riskier now, with your eyes closed again. You can’t see if he’s aware of your minute motions, but you’re too desperate to stop.

When there’s suddenly a sharp poke on your lid, your instinct takes over and you jerk back with a gasped yelp.

Jimin growls, and the noise makes you open your eyes in alarm. He’s holding a jet black eyeliner wand, and his face is tense, displeased. You even open your mouth to apologise, before quickly thinking better of it.

“Sorry for the technical difficulties, gentlemen,” Jimin states to the others stiffly. “Give me a moment to sort out my equipment.”

A rush of heat floods your core at the dismissive way he refers to you, and when you feel his hand tighten - not on your jaw, but on your throat itself - you melt into his grasp. The cold bands of his rings dig into the flesh as he inflicts just enough pressure to make your heart race.

Still able to breathe comfortably, just with that physical reminder of his strength and his control, you go pliant in his hold, eyes fluttering before they naturally settle shut.

“There we go,” Jimin murmurs, “now let me continue.”

Jimin uses your cheekbones to prop his hand up as he paints a delicate stroke of black across the bottom of each eyelid, his voice like honey as he walks Namjoon through every last detail.

The weak rutting had barely given you any relief before, but now with Jimin’s hand on your throat, it’s not even enough to keep you sane. Your brain knows there are four other people trying to watch the processes of applying makeup, but that logical part is being steadily overridden with primal need, a need that’s going unfulfilled.

Jimin has to remove his hand to show you off, then to turn your head back and reach for something else, the sticky sound of it opening, and the wet bristles that you can only just feel against the edge of your eyelids tells you it’s mascara.

“Look up,” Jimin commands shortly, tapping your temple. You follow command and glance up, curling your fingers into your own thighs to stop yourself from flinching when the wand comes so close to your eyes.

When he shows off his work this time, your eyes are finally open again, and so you find yourself facing the others properly. Namjoon’s doing a decent job of pretending he’s actually interested in the makeup, but his eyes spend too much time on the space between your legs, and Jimin’s face to be really focused. Jungkook’s got his feet up on the couch, with an arm shoved in front of his crotch, rocking against it to relieve some pressure.

On the slightly less affected couch, Hoseok sits back with his gaze hooded as he stares you down. Taehyung, shoulder-to-shoulder with the dom, has a swollen bottom lip pinned tightly under his front teeth. You don’t doubt he wishes nothing more than to be between you and Jimin right now.

Jimin pulls you back too soon, and as he retrieves the familiar short, round casing of a tube of lipstick, you can’t hold back any longer. No longer worried about accidentally being stabbed in the eye, you keep your face still but tighten your thighs around his, grinding your core against him.

You know you aren’t being subtle, but you’re beyond caring, just needing something to relieve the desire boiling over inside you.

As he uncaps the lipstick - a deep wine red that looks ridiculously expensive - he sends you a warning glare. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he chastises in a low tone.

You choose to ignore him, propping your hands on the top of his thigh, over the soft pleats of his skirt, to get better leverage, moaning between closed lips at the feeling.

“That’s disappointing,” Jimin admits, and as your heart begins to sink at his tone, his free hand lifts up once more to wrap around your neck.

This time, instead of his grip being an implication of consequence, he starts to tighten and tighten and tighten, slowly and steadily. You feel the pressure on the sides of your throat, where his fingers are, not on your voicebox, and it makes you start to feel a little hazy. He keeps going as you feel the first brush of lipstick against your parted lower lip, and there’s a heat in your face, a slight tightness. His fingers curl in more, just slight changes every time, but your brows furrow at the slight pain, and without you even reaching out to pinch him, he’s eased back to that sugar-sweet lightheadedness.

It’s easier to let your eyes flutter - not open but not quite closed either - as your lips are coated in red, hand moving with just as much case as his other. Although you can breathe, it’s thin, and you feel yourself go lax at the slight deprivation, like you’re floating above yourself. Once the cap of the lipstick clicks, his grips falls away, and you instinctively suck in a breath, your exhale sounding closer to a pleasured sigh.

You begin to sink forward, seeking out more contact as the endorphins of an oxygen rush lift you higher. Jimin hums, the lipstick clattering noisily on the coffee table as he grasps your shoulders and turns you slightly, so that you don’t faceplant into his chest. A strong hand keeps your chin up, air flowing so easily that you feel drunk on it, strength returning to your limbs.

“Isn’t my doll so pretty, Namjoon?” Jimin asks sweetly, before he ducks in and nips sharply at your earlobe, voice lowering to whisper harshly in your ear. “I only gave you two very easy, very simple commands. Be quiet and be still. And yet that’s seemingly too much to ask of you. I have no qualms about punishing you in front of everyone, little mouse. You’ve used up all your chances. If you make a single noise or move out of turn, I’ll discipline you right here without mercy.” His fingers are featherlight, tender as they turn you back to face him, pressing your foreheads together. His eyes dance in mirth, a smile playing on his lips. “Is that understood?”

You only just manage to prevent yourself from answering or nodding automatically.

Jimin laughs through his nose at the way your lips twitch, leaning back just a few inches. “That was mean of me, wasn’t it?” His smile falls in a second. “Then again, I think I’ve been going too easy on you lately. And I don’t make mistakes a second time.”

Blessedly, all he has left are delicate dustings of blush and highlighter, and some setting spray. He moves your face this way and that, tells you when to open your eyes and when to close them, and although it feels like your insides are vibrating hopelessly, you manage to keep still and silent, a perfect doll for him.

“All done.” When Jimin says those two magic words, and gives you permission to move again, you feel relief crash down on you, making your knees weak as you get up off him and collapse onto the couch in the gap between Jungkook and Namjoon.

Your relief is short-lived. “And what do you think you’re doing?”

You blink up at Jimin. “Um… You said we’re done.”

“The makeup is,” Jimin corrects, looking unbelievably intimidating even in a white t-shirt and pink cheerleading skirt. “We are not. You still deliberately disobeyed be, little mouse. You’re in trouble.”

On either side of you, Jungkook and Namjoon retreat, ducking out of Jimin’s line of sight so they can look on from the sidelines. You frown at him. “But I didn’t do it again, and you said you wouldn’t do it if I-”

“Goodness, were you so desperate that you stopped listening entirely? I said I wouldn’t discipline you in front of the others, Y/n. You haven’t earned absolution. You just get the dignity of privacy when I punish you. Go up to my room; now.”

There’s no protesting his command. There’s a safeword, or there’s obedience, and the choice is easy. You feel positively electric with arousal, excited at the concept of Jimin no longer going easy on you, and what that might entail.

You jump up, spare one glance at the four men that remain, open-mouthed on the couch, and make your way towards the stairs, Jungkook’s whines about ‘missing out’ fading away with distance.

Jimin’s room is relatively tidy, but it’s not the neatly made bed or overflowing tabletop of neatly arranged jewellery, watches and belts that catch your attention. At the foot of his bed, a heavy wooden armoire with his initials engraved is unable to ignore, a constant reminder of just how fucked you were. You didn’t know half the things he had in there, had only really experienced a few of them yourself, but something tells you that digging around inside it while you wait will just get you in more trouble; although you aren’t opposed to acting up for some extra attention, you’re in new territory with Jimin right now, and you want to get a feel for what you’re in for before you make things worse for yourself.

You’re proven right very quickly, when the door creaks behind you. “At least you know how to wait patiently,” Jimin’s voice calls in a sultry whisper. Turning around to face him, you can’t help but gulp at the glimmer in his eyes and the smirk that tugs at the corners of his mouth. “That lipstick shade looks so beautiful on you, little mouse. Mind if I try it on?”

With two smooth steps, he’s upon you, a hand winding around the nape of your neck and the other keeping your chin steady as he presses his lips to yours, forceful enough that your teeth begin to dig in to the delicate flesh. You exhale roughly through your nose, a whimper stuck in your throat at the sudden contact. As plush as his lips are, he kisses you with a ferocity and coldness that has your mind reeling.

When he pulls away, your eyes flutter weakly open, and that whimper makes its way to the surface. He looks like sin personified, that deep blue hair low across his brow, exposing a narrow triangle of his forehead, a smokey eye and those lips of his, stained with red. Of course it’s not a neat application - you imagine yours must be even more ruined - but the messy smears of colour across the middle of his mouth just serve to make him look wilder, a creature of lust and raw desire. “Jimin,” you say, voice hushed like a prayer.

His eyes narrow minutely. “Did I say you could speak? On your knees, shorts and shirt off.”

You follow without hesitation, just about scratching yourself in the haste to remove your outer layer of clothing. Though your ribs practically vibrate with how fast your heart races, your skin still prickes into goosebumps now that all you wear are your panties and a bra. The fibres of the carpet, though soft, scratch against the bare skin of your knees and shins as need makes your nerves extra sensitive. You look up at him and shiver at the sight this position awards you.

You haven’t specifically drooled over his thighs before, but now that they’re bared to you, directly in your line of sight, you feel yourself grow wetter. You knew he still had the corded strength of a dancer, too, and the thought of him using that power to fuck you into the floor makes you seek out some friction, crotch pressed to your heels and rocking against them. From this angle, you can’t see up his skirt, but the fabric is thin enough to expose the bulge of his cock beneath it. Looking up further, craning your neck to see his face, you appreciate how even from below, he has a jaw that could cut diamonds - especially when he’s clenching it, like now.

Your eyes widen, taking in the tensed look of disapproval he’s giving you. With a start, you realise your hips are still rocking back and forth absentmindedly, and you freeze with an apologetic whine.

His hand comes down to stroke back your hair, deceptively lightly compared to iron lines of his face. “Oh, doll, you really can’t follow any basic commands, can you? So needy for cock that you can’t even think?” He lets out a teasing laugh, the sound like windchimes. Slowly, he trails a single finger down the side of your face, then diverts inwards along your cheekbone and pushes down against the seam of your lips, making you naturally part them. “Such a mess already,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Shall we see how much more that lipstick of yours will hold up? See how long it takes you to become just a mindless little doll for me to play with, hm? Maybe you’d behave then.”

Your eyes plead with him as he toys with your lips lazily, running that finger inside, collecting your saliva to smear it over, your cheeks a hazy red at the humiliation. It only serves to make you needier, though, as you wait for him to do something, to use you like you know he will, and judging by the grin on his face as he messes you up, you know he’s well aware of his effect on you. But good dolls don’t talk, and they don’t move on your own, and so Jimin makes you sit and wait, letting him take his time.

When he finally pulls his finger away and wipes the drool - tinged pink with the dislodged lipstick pigment - on your cheek, you could groan in relief, but he still seems in no hurry, lazily toying with the hem of his skirt as he tilts his head to the side like he’s appraising you. “Look at you, trying so hard to follow the rules,” he coos, “did you not like me calling you cockdumb, little mouse?”

You bite down on the inside of your lip to mask another whine, blinking up at him as it takes all of your effort not to grind against your heels. You can’t answer, but it seems your response was explanation enough.

“Oh, so that’s it…” Jimin grins, eyes alight with the condescending mirth that makes you feel so deliciously small beneath him. “You like it a little too much, huh? I should’ve known. I’ve been spoiling you; Tae too. In fact, I bet every guy in this house has spoilt you rotten, and now the only thing on your mind is when you’ll next get some cock..” You swallow at the way he slowly begins lifting his skirt, knuckles grazing on the skin of his thighs as more pale golden flesh is revealed. His voice is sultry, addictive. “Rest that pretty little mind of yours, little mouse, you don’t have to think about a thing. Just open your mouth and be a good doll for me, and I’ll give you what you need.”

You widen your jaw and let your tongue rest on your lower lip before he’s even bared himself to you, and he chuckles as he holds the skirt to his lower abdomen, showing off the cotton-candy pink underwear he’s donning. The satin-like fabric is so narrow across his hips and between his legs that it’s clearly not meant to contain his cock, but he doesn’t seem bothered about the precarious way the weeping tip pokes out of the skinny waistband. There’s not much time to dwell on it, or even admire it, however, because he quickly reaches in with his free hand and pushes them down, letting his cock bob free.

Your eyes grow lidded with desire as he holds himself at the base with three fingers and taps the head against your awaiting tongue teasingly, drool quickly pooling there.

Jimin grins at your needy reaction. “I’d love to tie your hands back and fuck your mouth, but I want them to be free if you need to use them,” he states lowly, before shrugging, “maybe next time. For now; open up.”

You stretch your mouth even wider, wanting to obey his every command, and feel his cock begin to fill it, the salty tang of his precum sliding over your tongue. Focusing on breathing through your nose, you fight the urge to gag. Though he takes his time, and certainly isn’t as large as some of the other members of the house, he hasn’t have any qualms about burying himself to the hilt, making your eyes tear up.

“Fuck, just like that,” Jimin curses, and your heart sings with the praise even as you struggle not to choke around the intrusion in your throat. Unsure if he wants you to properly suck him off, but knowing the last thing you should do is move without permission, you just keep your jaw as wide as possible, lips pulled back slightly to cover your teeth. As he draws back with a pleasured sigh before beginning his slow drive back in, you think Jimin’s more than happy with what he’s getting.

He takes his time, but throat isn’t exactly something that adjusts like your pussy would, and so it doesn’t get any easier to stop your gag reflex from kicking in when you feel him past the base of your tongue. You can breathe through your nose, but there are so many things to keep track of that you don’t get quite enough air to your lungs, trying to make every inhale you do manage as deep as you can.

His groans and breathy praises are enough to keep your nerves on a livewire, so turned on you could cry - and, in fact, your eyes tear up as he gently but thoroughly fucks your throat, so that when you glance up at him, he’s blurry in your affected vision. That doesn’t stop you from knowing that he’s grinning, because you can hear it in the way he assures you that you’re being “so perfect, little mouse; just drunk on cock, aren’t you?”

You groan around him in your mouth, and feel a spot of wetness on your sternum, that you don’t doubt is your drool beginning to spill over. Even as your cheeks flush with humiliation, he doesn’t tell you to suck him off, or do anything but leave your mouth wide open, and so you stare up at him with tears in your eyes and remain obediently still.

It could be a minute, it could be ten, but at one point, when your nose is pressed to the waistband of Jimin’s skirt and his hand is gently cupping the back of your head to hold you there, you become aware of a foreign presence between your legs.

It takes you a moment to recognise it, that probing pressure that quickly seeks out your clothed core, but you blink away the sheen from your eyes and and close your thighs just enough to feel the outline, and it’s the textured fabric against your skin and the teasing way he wets his lips that helps you make the connection. The object moves again, a stiff drag right over your clit, and the sudden burst of pleasure makes you choke around him, spit running down your chest now. He’s rubbing his foot against you, the foot that’s covered in pretty white thigh-high stockings.

Jimin pulls out to give you a moment to cough and splutter, and thankfully doesn’t call you out on the involuntary breaking of the rules, but you barely manage to suck in two breaths before he’s clicking his tongue at you, telling you your brief respite is over. You clear your aching throat one last time and spread your mouth wide open again, but Jimin just hums and pats your cheek. “Could my doll handle one more command? You’re doing so good, taking me well like I knew you would.”

You nod straight away before freezing at your unintentional mistake. The blue-haired man just lets out a dark chuckle, pulling his foot away. This time, you at least manage to prevent a whine, biting hard on the inside of your cheek at the loss.

“That was mean of me, wasn’t it? I understand, little mouse,” he coos, crouching in front of you so that you’re at eye-level, “I do. It must be hard for you to remember all these pesky rules and orders, isn’t that right?”

His gentle croon of sympathy cracks you once again, your need to please overriding your better judgement, and you nod again.

This time, he openly laughs, making you shiver as he runs a line through the spit that’s fallen between your breasts. “Let me give you a deal, then,” he begins, voice dripping with apparent sympathy, “I’ll take away those rules. I’ll let you move, and moan, and say my name, but only if you promise that it’s because you’re too cockdumb to follow them, hm? Can you say that for me?”

You swallow, opening your mouth to take a heaving breath. What’s worse; not being able to move, or having to admit that you’re so desperate that you can’t stay still? “I’m just c-cockdumb, Jiminnie, can’t think about anything else but feeling you inside me,” you confess, and as he strokes back your hair and smiles at you like a prized pet or small child, something beloved but not all that smart, it’s strangely freeing.

Your sex drive had skyrocketed since coming on this show, and even with having sex almost once a day, sometimes more, you found yourself missing the feeling of each guy in the house while they awaited their turn. It had been what felt like ages since the last time you actually, properly fucked him, even though it couldn’t have been a week, and you longed for it. Admitting that you were too desperate to even follow basic commands, letting yourself be reduced to a creature of need, with no coherent thoughts alleviated any shame you had about that thought. Jimin was here in front of you, skirt barely covering his spit-slicked cock, lips still a sinful wine red, and he loved your need, your desperation.

Jimin stands back up again, and makes a pleased noise in the back of his throat. “That’s my good girl,” he praises, and any scant notion of tainted dignity that remained within you flies out the window. “I shouldn’t punish you, should I? When you couldn’t help it.”

“No, Minnie,” you agree with a whine, clenching your thighs together in a poor imitation of the stimulation you briefly had, “‘couldn’t help it. You don’t have to punish me.”

“And what would you want instead, little mouse?”

You widen your eyes in plea. “Fuck me, Minnie, I’m your good girl.”

He tilts his head to the side, and it’s the bemused smile that graces his lips that makes you realise he’s not going to give you what you want. “What a shame, then,” he murmurs, his fingers delving into your hair and tightening around a fistful of it, “that I have to punish you anyway. How else will you learn?”

You gasp as he steps backwards, pulling you with him by the grip in your hair. You’re forced to stumble forward on your knees and the tips of your fingers as he sits down on the edge of his mattress and settles you in front of him. “Minnie,” you whine, your own hands reading out to clutch at the fabric of the duvet in front of you.

“Y/n,” he teases in a singsong voice, “remember that new command that I wanted from my doll?” He spreads his legs open further, and the pink miniskirt rides up to expose his cock, smeared with a deep red from your ruined lipstick, dripping with saliva and precum. The hand in your hair tugs you closer. “It’s suck.”

Jimin isn’t gentle with you this time. Now that you have the advantage of responsiveness, sucking him down and swirling your tongue, he doesn’t bother sugar-coating it, and obscene noises emerge from your mouth as you swallow, gag and choke around him. He curses, using the handful of hair like a handle, guiding you up and down.

It’s barely any time at all before you feel a familiar sensation against your soaked panties. Jimin’s stockinged foot grinds against you with so much pressure you almost want to wriggle away from it. Your nerves are so touch-starved and your clit is so swollen that the slightest touch would’ve made you shiver, but the intense way he rubs the ball of his foot over your panties has you gargling hopelessly around him, mouth going slack.

He chuckles. “Too much? I can stop if you need, little mouse, I can’t have you getting distracted from your main use.”

Your hands detach from the duvet and wrap around his calf, fingers digging in and holding him there. Rutting your hips against it, you seek out the pleasure yourself but make sure to throw your efforts twice into blowing him, making him curse when you bob on his cock faster than your hips move.

“God, you’re fuckin’ filthy,” Jimin breathes out through a groan, “humping my leg like a fucking dog. Thought Tae was the pup, not you.” You’re unprepared for the hand that shifts and slips under your jaw, tightening around your throat so that you can feel his cock even more inside you. You gag, but swallow through it, the slight restriction of air bringing back that delicious heady feeling from earlier. Jimin catches your moan, even though it’s muffled around him. “Maybe I should get you a collar, little mouse. Make sure to buckle it tight.”

The thought makes your grinding falter, and you don’t doubt he feels the sudden rush of heat between your legs, because he suddenly kicks into action himself, grinding harshly against you as you cry out gutturally around his cock.

His grip on your neck loosens only to take a hold on the back of your head again, fucking your throat to chase his orgasm. The faster he snaps his hips, cursing lowly and groaning praises, the faster he jerks his foot against you, and it’s not long before the heat is gathering in a tight coil low in your belly.

You moan around him, jaw aching and lips stretched, and suddenly Jimin twitches inside you, spilling down your throat. Quickly, he pulls his cock out, and you only get the briefest taste on your tongue before he’s rubbing his tip across your swollen lips, spreading his cum across them.

His leg slows down as he releases, but you were so close to the edge yourself, and so you feel no shame in seeking it out, grinding yourself against him as you stick your tongue out to lick your lips clean.

Jimin groans, chest heaving, but lets you rut yourself against him, cum dripping down your chin, until finally you give a violent shiver as your orgasm runs through you. It’s mellow but toe-curling, and you clutch his leg to anchor yourself through it.

“Fuck,” you gasp out, head lolling forward onto his thigh, where the stocking turns to flesh, then the soft ironed pleats of his skirt.

Jimin’s hands are in your hair, stroking it away from your messy face and brushing out the tangles. “Oh, Y/n,” he chants softly, his voice a far cry from the dom that teased you before, “I love to play with you. How are you feeling?”

You feel drained, your entire body weight collapsed against him and the bed. “Mm.”

Jimin stifles a chuckle. “Could I have a colour, my little mouse?”

“Green,” you manage, “I’m green. But are we done now? If I don’t get some lip balm on now, my lips might just fall off.”

“Indeed we are,” he confirms, and bends down to slip his arms under yours, picking you up off the floor with ease. “As much as I love you being drunk off desire, I miss my clever, sweet, cheeky girl.”

Even with your body screaming in exhaustion, barely able to help him get you laid down on his bed and tucked under the duvet, your cheeks heat in a blush. “Don’t compliment me when I’m vulnerable, that’s cheating.”

“I’ll save them for later, then,” Jimin bargains with a tired smile, before he gets up and cringes, looking down. “As much as I’d love to collapse into bed for a nap with you right now, my sock is drenched thanks to you.”

Your eyes fly wide, and you manage to pull yourself up enough to glance over the side. Jimin isn’t kidding. All over the toes and top of his foot are dark patches in the stocking, clinging to his skin. “I’m so sorry,” you say with a wince.

“Don’t be,” Jimin assures, stripping it off with two fingers hooked into the fabric, “it was hot at the time. It just, uh, feels weird when it’s gone cold.”

Half the blood in your body has probably rushed to your face as you cover it with an embarrassed whine, burying yourself deeper in the sheets. “Maybe if you fucked me, I wouldn’t have gotten your sock wet,” you mutter petulantly, shamelessly deflecting.

“I’ll know better next time,” he quips, a grin evident in his voice. By the time you poke your head back up, he’s stripped down to just his white Gucci shirt, his bottom half totally bare as he retrieves a pair of boxers from the set of drawers. Stepping into them with no qualms about the temporary nudity - though, you suppose it would be stranger for him to be camera shy - he glances back over his shoulder. “And as much as I love to fuck you, we have just enough time for a cuddle before dinner. I miss you.”

Your heart warms, eyes soft. “Jimin,” you croon softly, “come here.”

He smiles, but hesitates. “Could I- I’m just- Should I text Tae?” he asks, lips twisting in uncertainty, still tinted a faded red. “I’m pretty sure nobody’s getting suspicious, and it’s not like we’re technically-”

“Text him,” you instruct with a beam. “I miss having you both close. We live in the same house; it sucks having to stay so separate.”

With how quickly Taehyung bundles into Jimin’s room after he sends the text, he must not have been far. He’s on you in a second, jumping onto the bed with enough vigor that the springs creak, and wriggling under the duvet beside you.

You seek him out with as much earnestness, if not enthusiasm, and hum happily when he lies back to let you rest your head on his chest. The bed creaks again, and Jimin’s body heat warms your back, his arm slung over your waist.

“It’s about time,” you hear Taehyung’s voice say, echoing through his chest, “I’ve been cuddling with one of Jin’s plushies these past few nights. It’s a sorry substitute for a whole human to snuggle.” He pauses to lift his chin, glaring imperiously at the blinking camera in the top corner of the room. “I missed having platonic cuddles with my friend Y/n. Cuddling is a favourite non-sexual pastime of mine.”

You giggle, curling into him and inhaling his comforting scent, like brown sugar or caramel. “I think you’re good, Tae.”

“Can we sleep now?” Jimin whines as he holds you tighter, face buried in the crook of your neck as he huffs. “I just had the soul sucked out of me.”

“I know, I know,” Taehyung grumbles, and if the comment strikes you as odd, it only takes the steady heartbeat and low hum of his breathing to blur the thought from your mind as you let yourself drift off.

--

Yoongi glances worriedly over his shoulder, ear straining to hear past the glass sliding door.

“They’re occupied,” Jin reminds, “besides, I doubt they can hear us all the way out here. Did we really have to come out to the patio just for a talk? It’s hot out here.”

The doctor shrugs, placing the package of fresh sliced beef onto the tabletop. “We’re having a barbecue tonight. At least this way we can pretend we were just getting set up.”

Jin narrows his brows, eyes softening in concern. Quickly, Yoongi drops his gaze, knowing it’ll just make him weak. “Yoongichi, talk to me. What’s up? What’s got you so nervous?”

Yoongi swallows. Thinks of what he rehearsed, of what he’d written in the notes app of his phone, read over and over that morning. This has been fun, but we’re kidding ourselves. Or maybe he’d skip the pretense and avoid beating around the bush. I can’t keep having sex with you while my feelings are on the line. “Um… A lot happened today. With Y/n.” Maybe he can beat around the bush a little bit, just to work up his courage.

“That it did,” Jin responds slowly, leaning against the outdoor dining table. Yoongi takes one of the wooden chairs, nails digging into the arms as he feels tension stiffen his body. “Though it seems like the others are doing a fine enough job of keeping her mind off it.”

Yoongi doesn’t miss the bitter tone in Jin’s voice. “Are you jealous? Of them, I mean.”

“Of course not,” the therapist answers immediately, “I have no right to be. She’s a free woman, and this is just a show.”

He frowns, heart sinking. “You said you wouldn’t lie to me about her, hyung. We started this so that you had an outlet. Physical or otherwise.”

Jin pauses for a moment. “I don’t think she would’ve told me,” he says finally, “if I wasn’t already there when part of it happened. If you hadn’t have asked me to look after her. She hasn’t told the others. Not even Namjoon, I don’t think.”

“And that bothers you?”

“It shouldn’t bother me,” Jin deflects.

Yoongi doesn’t miss a heartbeat. “That’s not an answer.”

Jin lets out a hollow laugh. “Since when you get so smart?”

Upon hearing those words, Yoongi feels a sudden shard of glass cut deep inside him, enough to make him wince. “I was always smart,” he replies stiffly. “I wasn’t dumb before I started fucking you, Jin. I didn’t get emotional intelligence through osmosis.”

At least Jin has the good grace to look pained. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to say you weren’t, I phrased that poorly. I just meant…” He trails off, seeking out the right words. “I suppose I’m realising how much you’ve learnt about me in the time we’ve been spending together lately. I feel like I don’t know much about you.”

Maybe because you don’t care about me like I care about you, Yoongi wants to say. Maybe because you only think about Y/n these days. “You could always ask,” he says instead, and curses himself for the pathetic way his voice wavers in the air.

Jin’s brows furrow deeper, and his hand begins to rub against his thigh. Self-soothing, Yoongi knows. Jin always started stroking at his own thigh when he was stressed. “It’s probably good that you asked to have this talk. I’m not sure this is best for both of us. I appreciate how you’ve stuck by me, and the support you’ve given me-” Yoongi wonders why he doesn’t just call it like it is, fucking, “-but it really seems like it’s doing more harm than good for you. Maybe we should put an end to this, Yoongichi.”

Yoongi sucks in a breath. He came out here to say that. He came out here to end it. But hearing it from Jin’s lips, it sounds abhorrent to think of. “Don’t,” Yoongi blurts without thinking, nails digging into the wood, “don’t take it all away from me just based on that. I know what I have with you, Jin, and I know that right now it isn’t ideal, but it’s better than nothing!”

Jin’s brows knit together as he shakes his head. “I don’t think this is healthy. It was irresponsible of me to lean on you in the first place, but I swear you aren’t just a substitute for Y/n. I care about you, Yoongi, it’s why I came to you.”

“You came to me because you knew I’d say yes,” Yoongi corrects, a sad smile on his face. “Because you knew how I feel. It’s just my shitty luck that you don’t feel the same. I mean, I’m crazy about you, you’re crazy about Y/n, fuck, I’m even starting to- starting to think about her and me like that too, and…” He takes a breath, feeling like a speeding train about to run out of tracks. “And I know Jimin and Tae and Jungkook are all head over heels for her and each other, Namjoon just about worships the ground she walks on, Hoseok looks at most of the people in this house like he wants to eat them alive in the best way possible, and it’s just- All these feelings are all over the place and it just seems cruel that you couldn’t just like me. To want me to still be in your bed when you wake up, to want to cook for me not just with me, to maybe kiss when we fuck, I don’t know, it’s-” Yoongi forcefully cuts himself off before he digs that particular hole any deeper. “I guess the odds just aren’t in my favour here. Do you even like men? Romantically, I mean? A good fuck is fine, but-”

“I do, yes,” Jin says with a wince.

Yoongi’s heart sinks. “Just me then,” he surmises in a hollow tone. “That’s okay.”

Jin frowns. “I’m not entirely sure what you wanted to achieve with this conversation,” he says, in a voice so soft it could shatter, in a voice that sounds like he’s worried Yoongi might be the one to shatter, “but it sounds like whether you want to admit it or not, this friends with benefits thing just isn’t right for us. There’s too many loose strings and it’s getting messy.” Yoongi goes to butt in, but Jin isn’t done, raising his brows to get him to pause. “I want to be fully honest with you, Yoongi. I don’t think it’s wise for you to put your wellbeing on the line for a possibility. We should end this.”

There’s a part of Yoongi that’s writhing in relief, at seeing a light out of the cave, an escape. But that part of Yoongi is drowned out by the majority of his being, the part that can’t bear a goodbye. “It’s not messy,” Yoongi blurts against his better judgement, “I told you I’d keep my feelings out of this and I will. I want to fuck you, hyung, and you want to fuck me, and I see no reason to stop when I’m perfectly fine.”

“Are you?” Jin asks dubiously. “I’m not going to continue this a moment further if I feel like you’re suffering because of this, Yoongi. It would be wrong of me.” He opens his mouth to continue, but is interrupted by a swooshing noise.

Yoongi jumps and whirls around just as Jungkook hops through the sliding door, grinning at the two of them. Yoongi sighs, relieved it seemed like the kid hadn’t heard anything. “This is a private conversation, Jungkook.”

“Is that, like, your code?” the youngest asks. “Wait, doesn’t matter. Anyway; I want in.”

Jin frowns. “You what?”

Jungkook’s smile just grows wider, exposing his teeth. “I want in, hyung, you two always sneak away to fuck, so I’ve come to join. I brought supplies.”

Yoongi’s mouth drops open as the black-haired boy pulls his hand out of his pocket to reveal a fistful of condom packets. “Do you just carry those around in hope, or…?”

“I specifically went upstairs to get them,” Jungkook announces proudly. “So can I join the sex pact now?”

Jin pinches his brow. “There is no sex pact, Jungkookie, and now’s really not a great ti-”

“You can join, Kookie,” Yoongi interrupts, ignoring the disbelieving stare Jin sends him. The older man wanted to be assured that Yoongi was fine? He could do that. “Come sit on my lap.”

Jungkook looks like a kid on Christmas morning as he scrambles over, shoving the condoms back in his pocket. He clambers onto Yoongi’s lap with a touch of clumsiness, but settles in proudly, back against his chest. Automatically, Yoongi wraps his arms around him, low over his hips like a seatbelt.

Jin still seems to disapprove, hand dipping below the table to rub at his leg again. “This isn’t a good idea,” he says with a frown, “things will get messy if we start involving more people.”

Yoongi grins, leaning forward to press chaste kisses against Jungkook’s neck, making him giggle and squirm. Proving he was fine was one thing, but making Jin jealous? Making him feel what Yoongi had felt every time he gushed about Y/n? Yoongi wouldn’t turn an opportunity like that down. “Come on, hyung,” he coos teasingly, one of his hands lazily pressing down on Jungkook’s quickly-stiffening bulge, “our pretty boy just wants to play. If you aren’t interested, I’ll just fuck him myself.”

Jin’s eyes flare, watching Jungkook wriggle in Yoongi’s lap as he begins to suck a trail of hickies over the sensitive flesh. “I’m sure we’ll give him a better time together,” he says in a gravelly voice, and gets up out of his chair, stalking over to the pair. “But first, don’t you want to put on a show?”

Yoongi lifts his head up as Jin’s fingers brush over his cheek, and in a moment he’s being kissed with bruising intensity, all tongue and teeth. Jungkook whines and clutches at Yoongi’s shoulder, wanting in, but Jin’s lips taste like possessiveness and jealousy, and Yoongi thinks they’ve never been so sweet.

#cypherwritersnet #bts smut #bts x reader #jimin smut #jimin x reader #jin smut #jin x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #ot7 smut #ot7 x reader

[a-collection-of-villainous-aus]

COFFEE SHOP AU PT 4

SEGMENT THREE of four cause it turned out segment three is so long I cant put it in one post XD

After Cruentus had left to make the tea, Hat curled back up onto the bed, was he as bad as Vincent…with his inability to ever truly let Acylius go?

Nuzzling against the pillow Flug used to lay his head on , Amadeus whimpered softly…no if his Acylius did not…could not love him in this new life, he would never make him do anything he didn’t want to do, he could never do what Vincent had done to Flug, ever.

Now that he was the one with power he knew one thing, he would protect Acylius from ever being hurt or harmed again, if someone so much as tried to he would destroy them without second thought.

Pulling the pillow to his chest he cuddled it closer, knowing he was down there, in the town in that little coffee shop, so close and yet so far away was far more heart wrenching than anyone could imagine, to have those eyes look at him and not recognise him…a small part of him wondered if he should be in his life again…after all he had been the final piece to fall into place to set in motion the events that would lead to Acylius’s death…

Oh he knew Acylius would tell him it was always meant to happen, that it wasn’t his fault…idiot man, he could have lived and left the Elderichts to rot…let him rot in the gutters with them, if all his kindness only ended up with him being killed for it…

Hat curled in tighter feeling the guilt of that thought twist in his gut, to think it was dishonouring all Lulu had fought for, all he’d done only had him curl up tighter, often he’d wished he’d been able to save him, be there just in time and be his hero…the irony of those words…yet being a hero…was not all what modern day society made it out to be with brightly coloured suits and pulling in fans…it was about doing the right thing and stepping up…as much as Acylius had his darkness…

In his own right, to the Elderichts…he was their hero, who kept his name quiet out of respect because it was what his stupid tree had wanted…if he’d had his way he’d have built a statue, had books written about him, the finest artists make portrait galleries out of him, made the universe aware of his existence, a proclamation of love for everyone to hear spoken across time and space…

But no…that was not his Doctor Flug; his Acylius whispered like the spring breeze through the blossom trees he loved so much only becoming a thunderous fearful storm when called for, he was absolutely ridiculous at times, daft as anything to when he was in the safety of his own home…he could not forget that first morning….

(Wavy scene and flash back music, shrugs I’m just like that and finally using an old ramble of mine <3) and I will let you know when the flash back ends ❤️

Hat looked himself over in the mirror, he’d straightened out his tie and suit, even though his ears were hidden under his top hat even brushed the fur on them, made sure he was as presentable as he could be, after all he did not know what half of these fancy contraptions laid out on his…was it his dressing table.

That idiot Legion Demon just came out of nowhere and was all here have a place to sleep, a room of your own, even though you’re in heat I won’t take advantage of you or even touch you, honestly what was he supposed to do with that, anyone else would have taken what they wanted and left him there.

Hat huffed, why was he so upset that Acylius…no no he couldn’t call him that, he was Doctor Flug, Legion Demon, a creature highly sought after, if he wasn’t careful about how he spoke to the demon he might push his luck too far and be kicked out, that would not exactly be something new but…this time…even if they’d just met yesterday, he found himself not wanting to leave.

He would do what he needed to do, to placate him, to sooth his temper if he had one, most of his kind liked sex after all right, he did too honestly but…when it was consensual, but he was not above doing what needed to be done to keep a roof over his head within reason…though he still couldn’t deny he was somewhat miffed Acylius had not come in last night and just taken him, at least he would have been one of the more attractive…

Who was he fooling, he found the Legion demon beautiful, and what was he?

(This is my story and I will have hat all dreamy about the tree like some romance novel if I want XD)

A short little thing that had crawled out of a heap…he knew he deserved more, that his kind should not be living such poor lives, to be used as food, as toys or experiments, but too many of them had accepted their fates and he’d agreed to leave knowing his determination of better to rise up would only cause them problems…and well they already had enough of those.

Black Hat looked over the room he’d been given, that bed was so soft he thought he might have sunk into it never to be seen again, the on suite bathroom filled with so many different bottles of this, that and the other left him overwhelmed, usually he’d had to share baths with those he’d stayed with.

Hands on the dressers edge, his claws digging lightly into the wood, this was his chance, his first real big chance to make his place be more than what he was, to prove to all these rich elitist snobs that you did not need to come from riches to belong, that everyone was equal when things were made even and equal.

Yes when he had his stand, he would show them but for now he was going to go downstairs and show the Legion demon the respect he no doubt felt he deserved, there was no possible way there was not a catch in all of this somewhere.

He went first to the kitchen, it was silent and well no one was around and the bin seemed to need changing, stuffed full of scraps of food...with the word recycle carved into it, well no one was there yet he could find himself a bite to eat out of it, it was unlikely Acylius or his butler would serve him anything but what came from here anyway right.

Lifting the lid he didn’t even flinch at the smell, he’d eaten from worse places after all, Black Hat had been about to reach a hand in when he heard someone clearing their throat at the door way, he froze, was this it the thing that would get him turned out now, he was only taking food no longer wanted…his fingers stretched then curled, hand falling back by his side and waited.

“Sir, if Acylius saw you eating from the bins it would upset him greatly…”

Cruentus walked up by his side briskly and shut the lid

“Why because I was stealing something no longer wanted?”

Hat returned looking up at Cruentus, his gaze defiant and shoulders drawn back, he was not ashamed of finding food where he could when he needed it.

“No, because the thought he’d let you starve or feel you would ever go without food here would mortify him.”

Hat blinked as he listened to the hellhounds sombre tone, well that was unexpected

“Oh and why is that?”

It looked as if the butler had wanted to tell but his maw was kept shut on the matter shaking his head

“That is not my story to tell, perhaps the master will tell you eventually himself…now what do you want for breakfast.”

“I doubt you would give me anything with bacon.”

Hat replied looking away…this place was odd indeed.

“Do you want it thick cut? Smoked or not? Crispy or not?”

Cruentus inquired walking past him again and tied on his apron

“Th-there’s more than one way to have it?” Hat answered completely lost at that answer

“I see, I will make you a whole selection then, I assure you the master would want you to be able to learn what you like, though be warned he might pinch a piece of the crispy bacon.”

Cruentus laughed setting out the frying pans.

Pinch a piece of food from someone else’s plate? A Legion demon would never do such a thing, not a high class creature like Doctor Flug, no…it wasn’t possib- and then he saw the tall, long legged demon entering the room, scratching at his head, wearing grey sweat pants and a jumper to match, looking nothing like the being he’d met yesterday, adorned with a five o clock shadow, his hair not even brushed and fluffy slippers.

Hat stood there, slack jawed as Acylius yawned, fangs bared a moment and then just looking sleepy but happy

“Good morning Black Hat, I trust you slept well?”

Damn it his voice was that deep soft rumbling gravel …he could have read him the phone book and his ears would have perked up just to listen to each soothing syllable that left those scarred lips.

(I described it once as being like James Spader’s voice you might know the voice of Ultron from age of ultron or Alucard from Hellsing)

Of course the first thing to come out of Hat’s mouth was not exactly the appropriate answer as he sputtered

“Is this!? I mean is this how you usually live?!”

Cruentus bit his lip; forcing back the laugh that swelled within his chest, ohhhh apparently this little creature was in for a wakeup call if Hat thought he was living with a snobby demon indeed!

Acylius looked at him then opened the cupboard pulling out something akin to the lucky charms cereal only in this world it had little devils and demons and pentagons all pastel coloured

“Not when I have certain guests over, after all some demons will not see you unless you put on airs, a display that you are high class, boring stuff really if you ask me.”

He shrugged pulling now the milk from the fridge and was about to drink from the carton

“Boy, what have I told you about doing that? Don’t make me tap your ears young man.”

Cruentus pointed the tongs at him that he used to turn the bacon in the pan, snapping them at him.

Acylius’s ears went down as he smiled sheepishly, cheeks tinting pink

“Sorry Papa, I know it’s a bad habit.”

Did Doctor Flug’s butler just reprimand him, was Flugs Butler his father….what the huh?

Hat shook his head, what in all of hell what going on, standing up straight he looked up at them

“I am a guest here you could at least treat me as such, I have done my best to be proper like the rich are and…”

Acylius loomed over him, looking much like those silhouette pictures you see in animations when they’re going for the threatening look

“Is this what you want Amadeus for me to look down on you, I do not take kindly to my guests, they know visiting me and one wrong word can put them in poor favour with me…”

His eyes glowed white there was not colour in them and in that mass of black his smile grew and grew, showing off bright white fangs thin and needle like, another one appeared and another all of them speaking as he prodded him

“IS this what you want Amadeus, for me to be the monster they expect me to be?”

Cruentus raised a brow, oh so Hat liked what he saw before him did he, it was pretty obvious with how transfixed he was.

Amadeus pulled off his hat and played with it in his hands letting it fall below the waist, doing his best to subtly hide something that showed he enjoyed seeing this darker side of Acylius, Cruentus of course only shook his head and continued on the bacon, oh lord he could see how this was going to go eventually anyway.

Acylius froze, cat ears, fluffy black cat ears …Amadeus had, he wanted to touch them so much, to run his claws over them and nuzzle into the soft fur, his display disappeared, back into the grey sweats and dishevelled hair, cereal and milk in his hands and then the softest look that made Hat want to reach out and touch his face and let him know everything would be alright.

“I am sorry if I frightened you Amadeus…but you are not a guest you are a housemate and I want you to know you can be relaxed here in this place in your home if you so wish it to be your home.”

He turned and went to sit at the table about to pour milk into the box of cereal when Cruentus placed a bowl and spoon in front of him

“Stop that I know you’re just trying to be this extra lazy to vex me.”

Cruentus chuckled tapping the top of his head

“Perhaps I am, but you like knowing I still want you to do little things for me now and again Papa.”

“What kind of Father would I be if I were not there for my son hmm?”

Cruentus answered affectionately before going off to serve up the bacon.

Hat, was still standing shifting on his feet.

“Can I sit to?”

Cruentus came along with the plate and literally picked hat up by the back of the neck right where he knew he’d turn into a kitten and curl up completely compliant

“Dumbass he said you’re a house mate you can sit whenever you want.”

He sat him on the seat across from Acylius and set the plate down

“Bon appetit Amadeus, being welcomed to stay in the home by Acylius is honestly a rare thing…very rare.”

“Cruentus, can you please not do that again, I abhor when that is done to me.”

Hat ground out between clenched teeth, hands balled up into fists and ears laid back, his hat sitting on his lap, the problem he’d had was now gone, placing his hat back on, he expected Cruentus to snap at him or punish him…after all he was still…a…a sewer rat to everyone who wasn’t one of his kind…there was no reason for these demons to treat him like he…mattered.

“My apologies Amadeus, I should not have been so forward in my actions, I will not do that again.”

Hat only grumbled and started munching on the bacon using his fingers to pick it up

“Fork, Amadeus and knife if you want to start appearing proper in front of polite company.”

“Yes sir.”

“My name is Acylius, not sir, master or Doctor Flug behind closed doors and out of the ears of others, I suppose if it makes you comfortable you can call me Flug if you do not feel on a first name basis with me.”

“Really, that is a little too personal do you not think Doctor Flug?”

Black Hat sneered, after all was that not the way of the rich, to act better, to be Impersonal.

“Honestly at this rate I will leave as your actions have been highly disappointing and not what I expected of a Legion demon such as yourself.”

Was he doing it right, was he acting like the higher class do?

The room fell silent, a fist hitting the table making the cutlery rattle

“Amadeus Black Hat, you will not talk to him like that, what are you going to do? Return to living in motel rooms, drifting from place to place to be used like a toy, the next house you go into you will not come out of…except through the sewers as faecal matter.”

Acylius placed a hand on Cruentus’s arm; his father huffed and turned away

“The higher ups out there, most of them couldn’t give two shit’s they would sooner kill you…if I had not arrived Amadeus when I did …it would literally be a matter of moments before their assassins ascended on you and left your corpse in the street…”

The legion demon poked at his cereal, it’d gone soggy now and honestly he’d lost his appetite

“I’ve assigned you as my being, by law and the ways of a Legion this means they cannot touch you but only when I am with you or Cruentus is with you…I promised myself I would never do that, but I know what you are trying to do and I have already been trying to help the cause.”

Hat’s breath stilled, those eyes the way they changed hues of blue fleeting through emotions, assigned himself, he’d already been helping what did that mean he would ask soon it was clear the doctor was not done

“Amadeus outside of this home I now belong to you in their eyes like a pedigree dog, it’s what they see Legion demons as, they must treat us at least with respect and some kindness if they do not want their fortune to fall, but in this home. I am what I have always been, Acylius Flug the Free Legion, those who are on our side will know this, but I am going to use my ridiculously high class to teach you to be a refined villain and to be like them if you so wish to be a monster.”

Ah so that was what assigned meant, to be his …good luck charm to be the reason the dice fell in his favour so to speak, he’d given up his freedom in a sense for him…

“Amadeus’s I would tell you to take your elbows off the table as it is considered rude but in this place I am going to live my life as I wish to, as I want to, I only want to run a quiet little coffee shop , perhaps find a partner and live a quieter life…”

Acylius leaned back and placed his feet on the table and Amadeus’s looked along the length of those legs, holy …they were long.

“How did you find me?”

Amadeus asked quietly.

Acylius pulled a cigarette from nowhere, his thumb lighting up with a blue flame to light it, it was not a thing humans could inhale, despite it‘s sweet lavender scent, scratching lightly at his stubble he took a drag and let the taste settle on his tongue and the warmth of the smoke swirl within his lungs before exhaling, they were also not toxic but used as a relaxant with nothing that could cause harm.

“You were not exactly subtle about your notions, you let too many of the wrong ears hear your plans, your thoughts about inequality, there is always a high caste group who will detest such on goings and try to keep what they consider balance, to them you’re dangerous Amadeus…the thought that could get your kind to rise up if they feel there is reason and hope to.”

He paused again to take another puff

“Your kind were not always in the sewers, but I have not uncovered much of your history but I see you as a kindred spirit, both wanting better for our kind, I do not expect you to help my cause, but I ask one thing, if you do become some great overlord that over throws them…free the Legions from the contracts they are bound to, let them always have free choice to leave if they so desire to…once bound we cannot be freed unless our assigned master allows it.”

“I give you my word Flug, if you can truly help me, and mean what you are offering I will do what you ask…and I…I am sorry, I have had the idea all high people were the same even in their homes I forget that even those who reign in gold palaces have hearts…and own personal problems…do you all hide behind those marble masks of cold in public?”

Hat replied, offering out a piece of bacon, after all Cruentus had said Acylius did like pinching off other people’s plates and it’d seemed the doctor had gone off his cereal, it was a crispy piece so far his favourite of the lot but he wanted to share it with him.

Hat’s heart raced as their finger tips came in contact and Acylius actually took the piece and thanked him for it before proceeding to munch on it happily

“Thank you Black Hat, I can only hope you will stand to that promise, I have willingly pledged my life to you…and to answer your question, most of them do not wear emotional masks they are just that up their own ass and that cold…perhaps you have seen me around before…”

With a wave of his hand his face was cleaned up and hair tidied as well as scars hidden away he pulled a face one would expect a cold creature to pull.

“Oh dear lord you’re the one Vincent would not stop going on about…I remember him constantly talking about you, literally has a shrine of you in his bedroom…he let me stay one night after I fixed his coat for him.”

“Bah that daft obsessed Rabbit demon, often I have thought of putting him in a racing track and letting hounds chase after him, I wonder how he would feel about me then.”

He let the illusion fade and returned back to his dishevelled state letting a ring of smoke drift Hat’s way, the angle he was at made it circle the rough top hat perfectly, his ears perked up

“Ahh yes there it is, your organization shall be called Black Hat Organization, Evil is our business, and business is good!”

With a flick of his wrist a white card stood between two finger tips, he tossed it to Amadeus who caught it and saw the image, a silhouette of a top hat and a black ring with the business name under it.

“Now before we start any kind of business I will need to train and guide you and awaken such powers within you, not even you could imagine.”

End of Flash back

End of segment three

THIS PART ENDED UP GETTING SO LONG I'LL HAVE TO MAKE A SEGMENT FOUR BUT IT'S ALL TYPED UP SO NO WAITING TIME ❤️

#acylius flug #Black hat #coffee shop au #past coffee shop #Present day #Paperhat #Cruentus #Villainous au #Omg so au ooc #❤️

[vangoddamn]

Night night

Van gets locked out of his house while his family is gone, so they spend the night at y/n's place.

WARNINGS- fluffy teen Van at his finest!

You lay flat on your belly in the middle of your room facing the door, finishing your school project. Your best friend faced you from your phone screen propped up by a stack of discarded textbooks. You'd both planned on meeting up but the weather was awful and she couldn't be bothered to walk over, you didn't blame her.

She'd been on for over an hour and it was getting fairly late, but you both wanted to get it done. You realised you hadn't even had dinner yet as your stomach started growling angrily at you.

"so, I was thinking we should change the layout of section C like it's really not vibin with me Luce" you spoke with a tired tone laced between the words trying to hide your grumbles.

You could see Lucy giggling away and your face turned crimson. It wasn't even that embarrassing but the way she laughed was as if she knew something I didn't.

"y/n, I think Vans at the window" she managed in between small giggles pointing behind you. To your surprise he was, in fact, balancing on the tree outside my window, Troy Bolton style, tapping at the window. You had obviously ignored the sound for your work.

In a hurry, worrying he might fall out, you skipped to the window unlatching it letting him step in. You fussed over him dramatically taking his soaking jacket off and brushing him down.

"hey love" his lazy smile made you reciprocate and sent warm tingles down you despite his cold skin. "Oh hey Lucy" he waved from behind you making her giggle even more before you ended the call with a sorry expression. You both usually liked to get your projects over and done with and this one was a whopper.

You handed him a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie of his you permanently kept at yours letting him change into something comfier. He gladly accepted and you helped him wriggle free of his dripping clothes. Taking a moment when you revealed his bare chest, placing a kiss to his collar bone.

"what the heck were you doing out there baby" you cooed dry his hair with a fresh towel you'd found from your dresser. "And you could've used the door" you laughed, knowing full well your mum loved him being round and quite frankly Van was always here.

"yeah, I dunno thought this would be fun" he shrugged making you laugh even further, that being interrupted when your mother walked in.

"oh Van," she said purely out of surprise, probably wondering why she hadn't heard him come through the front door. "Dinners reheated love, I'll make a plate for you dear" she fondly smiled at Van before closing the door behind her.

"I feel like she likes you more than me" you pouted, making him pull you into a tight bear hug.

"that's not possible little one"

"wait how come your even her, not that I don't like it but?" You questioned him curiously, your fingers dancing around his still bare chest.

"mam and dad are out aren't they, got back from band practice and the doors locked" he shrugged explaining in very little detail like usual.

You leant up kissing his nose, before being pulled into his lips, feeling his smug smile. You pushed him onto your bed and straddled him mid-kiss, but your stomach interrupted you obviously having other plans.

"come on sweet cheeks" he pulled on the hoodie that lay next to him and picked you off onto the floor, dragging you through the house, down the stairs and to the kitchen.

Your parents sat in the living room watching hot fuzz whilst you and Van sat down in the kitchen to spaghetti. Van like usual was starving, digging in straight away, and for once you might've been just as hungry as him.

Your sister sat with the two of you drinking tea and chatting. It was nice that your family got on so well with Van almost as if he was a part of it too. Soon the three of you, now all cradling teas, settled in the lounge.

Van and you occupied a whole sofa, nestled together. You weren't really paying much attention to the movie, though it was a family favourite. More occupied playing with Vans hand, settling with it wrapped around your body.

You hadn't really noticed you'd drifted off until you felt your body being moved and realised you were being carried to your room. You opened your eyes, meeting Vans smiling back at you. He layed you down gently on your bed snuggling in beside you.

You moved your body, wrapping your leg around him. Your hand reached out in the darkness to his cheek, whilst his roamed your thigh. Leaning in so your breath caught in your throat at the proximity at which you both lay. You could feel the pit of your stomach and the tingles again which went from the tips of your fingers to the ends of your toes.

"what's the up silly?" His voice was sleepy but you could tell he was happy by his smile and wandering hands.

"maybe I'm just glad your parents are outta town" you murmured slowly brushing the hair out of his face. It had dried now and looked soft "your so fluffy" you giggled into his neck.

"hey you, that tickles" he poked back at your ribs, hovering over you tickling and teasing. "Shush! Your parents will hear yous" he warned all-loving tones still.

"Van stoooppp, please you're killing me" you begged trying to grip at his fingers, pushing them off. Finally, he gave up relaxing back into the cushions and soft sheets cuddling you into his chest.

"just for you my angel" he whispered, his arms were now around your waist and your head rested in the crook of his neck.

“night night Van" you replied, resting your eyes and allowing his surprise visit to get you some rest.

"night night love" with that you felt his grip tighten for just a second, your little sign of teen love.

A/N: Hi my loves, I hope y’all are doing well. I have so many unfinished things like this in my drafts so have decided to (try) complete them! This was gonna be like a real cute consensual messy teen sex thing, but I decided to save it for something else. I know some of you might not like anything too smutty and everyone deserves some fluffy Van so I saved this one for everyone! Also I’ll be happy to write any requests for you, smutty or not so don’t be shy, stay safe xx Em 

#catfish and the bottlemen #van mccann #catfish #fluff #catb #fanfiction #mccann #van #vanfic #van x reader #van mccann x reader #van mccann fanfic

[mspainttaz]

Caffeine in general makes me tired (I do blame my adhd cause I have a diagnosis lmao) but! Tea!! Has a kinda placebo effect on me where it wakes me up because I associate it with mornings I guess??

Anonymous said: Totally sympathise on the caffeine thing. Depression makes me sleepy and suspected adhd means I can never cure the sleepy with coffee or energy drinks. I have a lunchtime coffee and my body goes "time for nap. No work. Only nap".

the consensus is in, caffeine is a fickle drug and we are all desperately trying to make it work when it Will Not with our Brains

#m #marithehighpriestessofmoloch

[feelingfredly]

Tea for Two

Summary:            

The joys of loving a mad scientist.

Or as Socrates said...  I drank what?

Notes:    

I wandered into the UraIchi Discord server and stumbled over a discussion of the absolute *crime* that there was no tag for "Consensual Tea Drugging."  The rest, as they say, is...  somebody else's fault. LOL

                “What does this one do?”

Kisuke peered around the corner of the cabinet and tutted.  “Telling you would skew the results of the experiment.”

Ichigo looked into the muddy depths of his teacup and muttered, “Like you’re not already skewed.” He sighed, “So, I just trust you and drink it?”

Kisuke paused for a moment.  Put like that he could understand Ichigo’s concern. “I suppose I could…”

A second later Ichigo was behind him, his front pressed against the planes of Kisuke’s back, and handed him the empty cup. “You should’ve just said. I’m going to go settle down on the futon with a book in case I get dizzy. You want to come take notes?”

Kisuke looked at the empty cup and then watched Ichigo as he wandered back towards their bedroom.

 Notes.  Right.

***

“Wheeeeen the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that’s amor-aaay.”

Ichigo’s singing voice was quite nice, although his choice of song was suspect. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to lie down, Ichigo-kun?” Kisuke asked. He was fairly certain that not-tea-drugged Ichigo would prefer to keep his vocal abilities to himself, even if they were terribly entertaining.

Ichigo spun on the ball of his foot—the tea clearly didn’t affect him physically as much as mentally—and shook his head. “No way!  I feel great!  I feel so great that you should send a message to Grimmjow and tell him that I want to pound his ass.”

Kisuke’s lip quirked a fraction and Ichigo paused, rethinking what he’d said.

“Not like that,” Ichigo let out an undignified snort, “although have you seen his ass?  I mean, I know you’ve seen his ass, but have you seen it?” He sighed a little dreamily and Kisuke wondered just how much of Grimmjow’s ass Ichigo had seen. “I meant that I wanted to pound his ass into the ground, not the futon.”

Ichigo paused again and Kisuke could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as a sly smirk spread across his face.

“Now your ass is another thing entirely.”

Kisuke made a note in his journal.

***

The water pelted over them, Kisuke’s wet samue clinging to him as he washed the traces of sickness away from Ichigo’s pale face.

“This wasn’t what I signed on for with the whole ‘consensual tea drugging’ experiment.” Ichigo’s voice was rough, his throat raw from hours of expelling what seemed like everything he’d ever consumed in his life.   “Although the shower part is nice.”

Kisuke ran his hand down Ichigo’s flank, long soothing strokes, and hmmm’d. “I didn’t expect this reaction, either.  The tea was supposed to make you sleepy.  Possibly knock you out.  I bought a Sharpie to draw a mustache on you and everything.”

Ichigo let out a watery laugh.  “Only you would tell me that to try to make me happier with you.”

Kisuke wrapped his arms around the smaller man and held him, the memory of his recent misery an uncomfortable lump in his stomach.

“I am sorry, for what it’s worth.” The words were soft against Ichigo’s bare shoulder.

A quiet rumble answered him.  “It’s worth a lot.”

***

“I am absolutely positive.”

Ichigo stared into the teacup doubtfully.  “Is this like ‘normal people absolutely positive’ or ‘mad scientist absolutely positive’?”

Kisuke tilted his head to one side. “You do realize that as a mad scientist I can’t actually answer that question any way but the latter, don’t you?”

The redhead rolled his eyes. “You do realize that that kind of logic only applies when you’re avoiding the subject, Kisuke.”

That was true enough.  Kisuke shrugged.

“Let’s go with mathematical rather than interpretational, then. I am 95% certain that this tea will not allow me to analyze the contents of your stomach first-hand.  The +/- 5% takes into account any previously undiscovered intolerances, allergies, or hollow/reiatsu reactions.  Fair enough?”

Ichigo had swallowed the contents of the cup before he’d finished his explanation.

“Why quibble if you were just going to drink it anyway?”

Ichigo smirked. “Keeps you on your toes. Anyway, tastes better than the last kind.  Either going down or coming back up.”

Kisuke nodded. “I added a few things for flavor.”

Brown eyes met his. “I recognized the cinnamon and I thank you.  You know I like the taste of that.”

“Yes,” Kisuke said, gently guiding Ichigo out of the kitchen and down the hall. “I used cinnamon, star anise, and cardamom…  to hide the curare.”

Ichigo stopped stock still in the middle of the doorway. “Curare!?!”

Kisuke smiled and bussed him on the cheek.  “I love how smart you are.  You know curare? It’s surprisingly bitter and taken orally you must use a lot to get any effect.  It was quite the puzzle.”

He pushed Ichigo into the bedroom and down onto the futon that he’d rolled out earlier, just for this.

Ichigo looked around a little wildly at the made-up bed. “What’s all this?”

Kisuke watched him try to raise his hands. It wasn’t working very well, which meant the tea was.

“This,” he said, pulling Ichigo’s hands up and crossing them over his navel, “is a way for me to see how long the tea’s effects last.”

The redhead gave him a look, and Kisuke was pleased to see that neither his breathing nor his pupils had been affected.  Good.

“Lying here paralyzed is going to get pretty boring.  For both of us.  I hope you brought a book.  I’ll probably just sleep.” His words were a little slurred, but he was clearly coherent. Kisuke stood and started removing his clothes, pleased to see Ichigo’s pupils reacting to that at least.

“Oh, I had a better idea than a book.  You see, something that has always puzzled me is how intention changes the effect of certain drugs.   Someone with enough motivation can push through a lot of things, and it’s important to test these things under suitable duress.”

Naked now, he stood just in Ichigo’s line of sight. He trailed a hand languidly along the centerline of his abdomen, a track that the other man loved to trace with his tongue, and finally down to his slightly stiffening cock and then further to cup his tightening balls.

In the time they’d been together there had been many discoveries, but almost none had pleased Kisuke more than the fact that Ichigo loved, absolutely loved, to watch him touch himself.  His eyes would widen, and his breath would shorten, his lips would shine bitten and red as he forced himself to wait, wait, wait…  until he couldn’t wait anymore and would launch himself like a starving man at Kisuke, his hands everywhere, mouth hot and demanding, and then, only then, would Kisuke allow himself to come, preferably buried deeply in Ichigo’s beautiful body.

This time, though, Ichigo couldn’t pounce.  The tea would keep him still longer than his willpower ever could, and Kisuke couldn’t wait to see what happened.

He pulled a cushion over beside the futon and relaxed cross-legged, his cock now at half-mast, barely an arm’s length away from Ichigo’s face.

“Fuck, Kisuke.”

Ichigo’s eyes were all pupil, blown wide with desire as he forced the words through slack lips.  That gave him so many ideas. He gripped himself a little harder and played with the fold of foreskin that protected the sensitive glans.

“That will have to wait, Ichigo-kun,” he said with a soft laugh, “the tea, you know.”

Even drugged Ichigo managed a scowl. “You’re enjoying this.”

Kisuke looked down into the wide brown eyes and let his desire show. “Oh yes.  Yes I am.”

His fingers were cool against the heat of his cock, and the friction was enough to slow his stroke.

“You know,” he said, eyes drifting shut as he teased them both, “there’s a healing kidō that the Fourth uses.  It stops muscles from reflexively tightening and I’ve always wondered if there weren’t other applications for it.”

Kisuke reached across with his unoccupied hand and stroked along the length of Ichigo’s throat.

“Can’t you just imagine? I could totally remove your gag reflex. There’d be nothing to stop me from just fucking your mouth, and you’d be unable to move, unable to do anything but feel me.”

The groan that hung in the air could have come from either of them.

“You’re a bastard, Kisuke,” Ichigo said and Kisuke laughed, his hand stopping mid-stroke.

“That is not a surprise to either of us.”

He leaned forward and reached into the drawer of the bedside table, the ubiquitous hiding place for lubricant throughout three worlds, and pulled out the little stoppered jar that lived there.  He smiled softly at the gasp he heard as Ichigo sucked in a breath, watching as his cock bobbed mere inches from his face.

Kisuke warmed the handful of oil and gripped himself again with a sigh of satisfaction.  “Is this more what you had in mind when you agreed to my drugged tea experiments?”

He knew he was poking a dragon, but he couldn’t help himself.  He loved to hear it roar.

“More, yes,” Ichigo answered, frustration and hunger clear in his voice, and then a blaze of his reiatsu flooded the room, burning away the effects of the tea. He lurched upright on the futon, his hand snapping out to imprison Kisuke’s wrist, holding his fingers where they circled the base of his throbbing cock, a manacle of flesh and bone. “But not nearly enough.”

Kisuke smirked and allowed himself to be pulled forward and rolled under Ichigo’s hot body.

 Tea effects cut by 85% under duress.

***

Kisuke ran through the house, dodging occasionally thrown items, grinning like an idiot.

“Spots, Kisuke!” Ichigo yelled. “How did you ever think tea that caused someone to be covered in spots was a good idea?”

The blond stopped and turned. “I thought it would be useful if I could create a kind of biological camouflage.  Honestly…”

Ichigo cut him off with a growl, “They’re pink!  How the fuck would that be camouflage?”

Kisuke shunpo’d off again, grin firmly back in place.  Who cared if he got caught?  The pink was totally worth it.

***

“I think half the experiment is just to see how many times you can drug me.”

Kisuke paused in pouring the tea. “You mean like a trust experiment?” he asked.

“Maybe trust,” Ichigo shrugged, taking his cup.  “Maybe stupidity. I mean, how many times can you hand me something, tell me “this is going to do something to you, but I’m not telling you what” and expect me to do it? At some point you have to figure that I’ll say no.”

Kisuke looked at him thoughtfully. “That isn’t…”

Ichigo raised his cup and drank. “Don’t worry about it, Kisuke.  I mean…  I know you’d never agree to something like this, but it’s okay.  I don’t mind.”

The blond stepped forward and rested his hand on Ichigo’s wrist.  “You’re wrong.”

Ichigo shivered and looked down at the hand touching him as if he’d never felt anything like it before.  Apparently, the tea was working faster than his calculations indicated.

“Wrong?” The question came out strangled, like Ichigo was struggling to focus on the words.

“Yes,” Kisuke pulled his hand back leaving only one finger resting against the pulse stampeding through Ichigo’s wrist. “I’d drink anything you gave me.  No questions asked.”

Ichigo was staring at the spot where their skin was touching, fascinated.

“What does this one do?” he stuttered the words out.

Kisuke leaned forward, mere inches from Ichigo’s ear, to answer. “Hypersensitization.”

The keening sound that escaped Ichigo’s mouth was breathtaking.

***

Shunsui-san had a lot to answer for, calling him in for an emergency that basically entailed him saying, “No, I don’t want a Captaincy” fourteen different ways.  That might be an emergency for him, but it was decidedly less important to Kisuke.

“Long day?” Ichigo was standing in the kitchen as he made his way up from the basement. At least the Captain Commander wasn’t putting up a fuss about his senkaimon. Not that he could really do anything about it.

“After dealing with Kyōraku all day, I almost feel sorry for the people who have to deal with me.  All that duplicitous smiling.  It’s exhausting.” He leaned in and kissed Ichigo swiftly. The small affections were something that he still hesitated over, but Ichigo appreciated them, and that made them worth the effort.

“Tea?” Ichigo raised the pot and Kisuke nodded.

“Please.  And use the good white.  I need something subtle after a day of being beaten over the head constantly.”

Ichigo hummed his agreement and they pottered quietly around the kitchen while the tea steeped.

“So, are you going to take him up on his offer?”

Kisuke slanted a look across the kitchen.  Of course, Ichigo would know what Kyōraku was up to.  They were surprisingly close for men born a thousand years apart, and he’d seen the older man’s eyes resting on the redhead more than once.  It might be concerning if he didn’t know that Ichigo was as loyal as the day was long, but until the young man woke up and realized he’d hitched his wagon to the wrong horse, Kisuke wasn’t going anywhere.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said finally, reaching out for the beaker of pale gold liquid with a smile of thanks.  “I find that I like my current arrangements too much to go messing about with something like a new Captaincy.”

He sipped his cooling brew and caught Ichigo staring.

“You disapprove?” He took another sip, and yes…  there was something there. Something under the soft notes of the white tea.  Why that little sneaky…

“No,” Ichigo said, with a shake of spiky orange hair.  “I find that I, too, like your current arrangements.”

Kisuke raised an eyebrow and tilted his cup, and Ichigo’s lip quirked a fraction in its own question.  A challenge then.  So be it.  He raised the cup, and never dropping his gaze from Ichigo’s, drained it dry.

“How long do I have?” he asked, and Ichigo laughed.

“Long enough, although you might want to take your good robe off.  Wouldn’t do for it to get messy.”

Kisuke’s mind traveled through all the ways that messy could happen like a bullet ricocheting inside his skull.

“Messy, hmm?”

Ichigo chivvied him down the hall as he shrugged out of his sleeves.  “Yes, massage oil tends to get that way.”

Mmmmm, massage.  That sounded nice.

“You knew what Shunsui was going to ask.” It wasn’t a question, but Ichigo murmured an assent.

“He asked me what you’d say.  I told him to ask you.”

Kisuke thought about that for a minute.  “Thank you.  For not answering for me.”

Ichigo pushed him face down on the futon—all made up already, look at that—and reached for the bottle of massage oil. “Not my place.”

Something warm curled in Kisuke’s belly.  It must be the tea.

“Still,” he said into the pillow that had somehow found its way under his head, “it’s nice to not be managed.”

Warm hands slid up his back and he could feel a chuckle through them.

“You’re much happier being the manager, aren’t you?”

Usually that was true.  Right now, though, he was fine with letting Ichigo be in charge.

“That’s good to know.” The chuckle got louder.  He must’ve said that out loud.

“You said that out loud, too.” Ichigo dug one of his thumbs into a tightly corded muscle.  He really should tune up this gigai.  With Ichigo around he was putting a lot more strain on it than in the past hundred years or so.

Ichigo laughed out loud, his scowl completely gone for once. “That tea was much more effective than I expected.  Maybe I should use less Diazepam next time.”

Kisuke considered the light and floaty feeling he was experiencing. “This isn’t so bad.  For being drugged.  With tea.  Really.”

Ichigo flipped him over and straddled him, rubbing the massage oil into the muscles just under his collar bones. “At least you aren’t covered in spots.”

“No,” Kisuke nodded, “no spots.  Just a little fuzzy around the edges.”  It was nice. He was safe. Warm.  This was much nicer than some of the tea he’d fed Ichigo. Although the hypersensitization one looked fun, even if Ichigo swore he’d never let him touch his cock again after that.  Kisuke knew he didn’t really mean it.

“That’s what human drugs will do to you.” Ichigo leaned forward and kissed him gently.  “I wanted you to be able to relax for a while.  I know the business with Seireitei is stressful.”

Kisuke groaned when Ichigo hit another cluster of tight muscles.  It felt so good for something that hurt so much.

“You’re too good to me.”

“You say that now,” Ichigo said with a laugh, hands still busily digging into muscle, “I doubt you’re going to be saying that later.”

“Why not?” Kisuke’s floaty feeling was beginning to tingle. Hmm.

Ichigo leaned down to whisper in his ear, his hands sliding suggestively lower.  “Because Xanax wasn’t the only thing I put in your tea.”

Kisuke shivered and made a note to himself.  This is what you get when you poke a dragon.

 Isn’t it wonderful?

#Bleach #UraIchi #Mad Scientist Kisuke #trust kink #established relationship #smut and fluff #Kurosaki Ichigo #Urahara Kisuke

[lunerbean]

Witch Tips 18

I'm so happy we've made it this far. Thank you to everyone who supports me and enjoys what I write. Here are another 10 tips for you to use when doing witchcraft and please remember to check out the #10tips tag on my tumblr blog for more!

1. Little things can help you feel closer to your craft, no matter how weird they may be

Sometimes you may have small, weird things that help you feel closer, stronger, or more connected to your craft. For me, it's a small ritual to clean my skin and drink some water before doing any spells. I feel better about myself which gives me more strength in my craft. And drinking water is a nice way to feel connected to the earth by consuming what it -and you- thrive on. Think about little things that you do, or that you can do to help you when practicing magick.

2. An item does not need to be "witchy" to become an amulet

Sure pentacle necklaces and crystal necklaces are beautiful and aesthetically attractive, hell I even wear a pentacle and an opal necklace, but it's not necessary. What I mean is, anything that holds sentimental value to you can be used as an amulet. You can create amulets for protection, clairvoyance, inspiration, anything! But don't feel like you have to go out and find something traditional or expensive. You can use the locket your grandmother gave you, or your mother's old dog tags from when she was in the military, you can use the necklace of a ballet slipper your brother passed down to you, and even beyond that, you can use something you got in a quarter machine at Safeway. You can use something pretty you saw and Claire's Accessory that just had to have. It doesn't even need to be a necklace, an amulet can be a keychain or anything else you want to make into one! Don't let capitalism influence your craft. Use whatever you want for your amulets and everything else in your craft.

3. Etch sigils into candles before using them with spells

Some spells will specifically tell you to do this. But if not, you can always do it on your own. Look up the color correspondence of the candles beforehand, and add sigils to it that match the properties the colors already heighten. For example, you may be using a black candle for a protection spell. You could then make a protection sigil and etch it into the side of the candle for added benefits.

4. Read up on a plant before you decide to purchase it.

I was admiring the succulents in my local Market of Choice today and noticed that all of them that were of a certain breed were leaning towards the front door. This means that they need more sunlight. Now, living in the PNW, that's not always something we can provide on the dime. I advise looking at what sort of weather and climates a plant needs to be in before deciding to grow it. Of course, you can have plants that need different conditions that your area provides, just so long as you're able to make adjustments for them to keep them happy and healthy. Maybe Market of Choice could give those guys a little sunlamp.

5. When you think of something you want to do, but aren't in the "witchy mood" write it down.

Sometimes, you're not in the mood or correct mindset to do witchcraft. Other times, you're super in the mood but you just can't think of anything you want to do (probably because you're in a good mood and can't think about what will help that) Write it down! Write it in your phone notes, your grimoire, on your arm, anything! If you need help or need something to happen that witchcraft will assist with, write it down. Then, the next time you're ready for a ritual, you can look at your notes and do all of that good stuff you thought of before!

6. Washable finger painting soaps exist. And they're perfect for sigilcraft

Crayola has these really great "finger paint soaps" that are designed for kids to use in the bathtub. It let's them draw and paint on the walls of the tub and let their creativity flow. But it's actually soap and it washes right off! These are perfect for sigils! Draw some sigils on your body and wash it off to charge/activate it. Bonus: they come in many colors so you can use their color correspondence to aid your spell! EXTRA BONUS: They're like a buck each. $1USD. That's so chill.

7. Visit the witch shops in every town you go to.

Each one is so different! Every shop has something special to offer. You may find some where everything is overpriced, but then another in the same town that's full of good energy and great prices. I once went to one that had a rose quartz ball for a door knob!! It was incredible!! Visit every witch shop you come across and support local witches!

8. Cleanse first, then charge.

While everyone has different processes for doing these things, the order does matter. Cleanse an item, room, etc before you try to charge it. Every single time. You don't want to cleanse away the feelings and energies you just evoked. Cleanse, charge, and connect. I've talked about my personal process before in an early #10tips post. Like, waaay early. Maybe even the first or second one of this series. There's more information there. I just wanted to add this tip on top of the past one.

9. Double check your correspondence lists

This is especially important with your herbs that you're about to make a tea out of. It most likely won't hurt you to not double check but it definitely won't hurt to do it. Just check multiple sources and see what the consensus is. You don't want to accidentally add an energetic herb into your sleepy time tea!

10. Embroider sigils into your clothes

This is so great for subtle witchcraft. The sigil can be as elaborate or subtle as you want it to be. You can use different colored threads for color correspondence. And you can place the sigil wherever you want. Don't want anyone to see it and ask questions? Sew it on the inside of a pocket! Want to make it look cute and classy? Sew it on the color of a shirt/dress! Want to make a whole badass witch cloak/dress/shirt? Cover it in different colored sigils from top to bottom and create a beautiful, totally unique design! The possibilities are endless.

Thank you so much for reading my latest witch tips. As always, if you have any comments or questions, feel free to send an Ask my way and I'll be happy to answer them for you. And if you like what I do here and want to support me, here's a cheeky little link to do just that. There is absolutely no obligation and I'll post a little something-something on there just for you. Plus, I'll give your blog a shout out on here if you leave your blog name with your donation. Again, no obligation. I'll keep making these either way. And hey, thanks.

#10tips #witchy #witch #witches #witchcraft #witchblr #sigilcraft #sigilwork #sigil magic #sigil #sigils #sigil witch #magick #magick spells #secular witchcraft #witch advice #advice for new witches #advice for witches #baby witch tips #tips for witches #amulets #amulet magick #magic #magical correspondences #magical properties #grimoire #book of shadows #craft witch #cleansing #witch shops

[trinityadhd]

Hi, Ive read about the whole coffee & energy drinks making ppl sleepy thing and I was wondering if a) that was universal for adhd, and b) if hot chocolate had the same affect because coffee & energy drinks are icky

I believe it depends on certain people, but caffeine is considered a stimulant drug which is the type of drug most doctors prescribe to people with ADHD. There have been studies done in hyperactive rats where caffeine has improved memory, attention, and spatial learning, but rats aren’t people so there isn’t much consensus on if these effects are applicable to humans yet.

A lot of people use caffeine to self medicate or just drink for fun I guess? I like coffee and occasionally pop, my mom used to drink several monsters a day specifically for self-medication before she was diagnosed (she no longer does and now it’s pop or tea). But caffeine can also exacerbate symptoms of psychiatric disorders, especially anxiety. Caffeine is generally less effective than actual ADHD medications in adults (but it’s generally discouraged to give children caffeine).

Caffeine is complex and has different interactions with different existing chemicals and bodily structures which makes finding a definite answer kind of difficult. And people always vary, especially with drugs. For sleepiness, there’s a few factors that can be considered:

1. The caffeine interrupts the sleep-wake cycle by blocking certain receptors and after the effect wears off, there’s a build up of the chemical that makes you drowsy so you feel more tired after having coffee

2. Hydration and drinking coffee v water

3. Sugar in your caffeinated drink and the eventual crash 

Hot chocolate does have caffeine in it, but usually way less than coffee and energy drinks do. I’ve never really heard of anyone drinking hot chocolate for the caffeine or that it makes them drowsy, but it’s also one of those drinks people like to snuggle up with in the winter. If hot chocolate makes you sleepy you’re probably just really cozy and warm.

I’m not going to say that there’s a universal rule to caffeine and how it affects people, let alone those with ADHD, but it definitely has side effects like any other drug. This is probably a little more in-depth than you wanted, but there are a LOT of studies of caffeine and sleep that I’d love to read through and give a proper answer to how and why caffeine affects sleep. It looks like there’s less studies on caffeine and ADHD (but still a lot, about 99k v 17k studies according to google scholar). 

But feel free to drink as much hot chocolate as u want without strong caffeine side effects! (just not too much... remember to drink ur water and eat ur veggies)

Sources:

https://www.webmd.com/add-adhd/adhd-caffeine

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0166432810004663

https://www.healthline.com/health/food-nutrition/does-hot-chocolate-have-caffeine#hot-chocolate-vs.-soft-drinks

#hopefully this helps! #ADHD #caffeine #sleep #im sorry this is so deep.. its habit now thnx science major #thegovernmentstolemywilltolive

[ahmuteun]

All the questions please

1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?

uhhh nah, hes just a friend and we have a good dynamic that i wouldnt want to mess up

2. You talked to an ex today, correct?

nope

3. Have you taken someones virginity?

i dont think so

4. Is trust a big issue for you?

as of late it kind of is 

5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently?

i mean, kind of? but i dont like him romantically so no i guess?

6. What are you excited for?

to see my mates next week

7. What happened tonight?

nothing exciting, i wanted to yak when i saw that mayo vid mum reblogged

8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted?

no cause thats me sometimes nah but theyre allowed to do what they want as long as they arent completely belligerent then its cool

9. Is confidence cute?

eh it depends on the person i guess

10. What is the last beverage you had?

tea

11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?

like, two lol 

12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? 

i own many

13. What are you gonna do Saturday night?

i dunno i havent thought that far ahead yet

14. What are you going to spend money on next? 

probably a new laptop

15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed?

im not going out with anyone so no

16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months?

change how???????

i mean either way no lol im still gonna be a shit person in three months

17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?

uh, cat, jen, aubrey, and aj

18. The last time you felt broken?

i dont know about broken but i was sad last week

19. Have you had sex today?

no

20. Are you starting to realize anything?

yeah; guys fuckin suck and im stupid lol

21. Are you in a good mood?

i guess

22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks?

yeah that would be cool

23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s?

yeah i have his eyes

24. What do you want right this second?

for people to fuckin keep their promises, that would be great

25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?

well i dont like anyone but if even still, if we arent in a relationship then theyre allowed to do what they want

26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color? 

yep

27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?

i dunno i cant even think about myself dating anyone period rn so

28. What was the last thing that made you laugh?

i dunno, i cant recall what it was exactly

29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now?

kind of

30. Does everyone deserve a second chance?

depends on the situation

31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to?

no, aj i one of my best friends

32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do?

i👏 👏 👏dont👏 👏 👏like👏 👏 👏anyone👏 👏 👏

33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda?

kind of, i only drink it on the occasion

34. Listening to?

im watching harry potter and the deathly hallows part 2

35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore?

all the time, doing math in pen is a bitch

36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is?

idk home probably

37. Do you believe in love at first sight?

no because im not a naive idiot

okay i kind of am but thats not the point

38. Who did you last call? 

aj

39. Who was the last person you danced with? 

uuhhh cat, hanna, and evan i think

40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed?

um i dunno because we were both drunk and hes a good kisser

41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake?

i dunno im not a huge fan of them tbh

42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today?

no

43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?

i embarrass myself all the time 

44. Do you tan in the nude?

i dont tan ever lmao, my friends call me “wall” for a reason

45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss?

i would take the last, last, last kiss i had because fuck that guy 

46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night?

kind of, i got off the phone cause i was getting sleepy

47. Who was the last person to call you?

my mom

48. Do you sing in the shower?

not really

49. Do you dance in the car?

not really

50. Ever used a bow and arrow?

yeah and i sucked

51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?

uh, not for a while

52. Do you think musicals are cheesy?

some are

53. Is Christmas stressful?

it can be

54. Ever eat a pierogi?

ye, theyre good

55. Favorite type of fruit pie?

does pumpkin count? if not then apple maybe?

56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?

power ranger lol

57. Do you believe in ghosts?

eeeehhhhhhhh kind of???

58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?

yeah, hasnt everyone?

59. Take a vitamin daily?

lol no

60. Wear slippers?

yeah

61. Wear a bath robe?

yeah

62. What do you wear to bed?

a big tshirt

63. First concert?

fan fan

64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?

walmart for groceries, target for clothes

65. Nike or Adidas?

adidas

66. Cheetos Or Fritos?

HOT CHEETOS ARE THE BEST

67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?

peanuts, i can never eat sunflower seeds unless theyre already shelled

68. Favorite Taylor Swift song?

uhhh i like end game, style, blank space, and forever and always the most i think

her fearless album was one of my favorites when i was younger

69. Ever take dance lessons?

yeah a while ago, and now im choreographing a dance wow look at that lol

70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?

i cant even picture myself being married so no lol

71. Can you curl your tongue?

i can do the taco thing but not the clover

72. Ever won a spelling bee?

i purposely bombed those cause i didnt want to do them

73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy?

no

74. What is your favorite book?

idk i really like to kill a mockingbird

75. Do you study better with or without music?

depends on the subject really

76. Regularly burn incense?

never have

77. Ever been in love?

once upon a time

78. Who would you like to see in concert?

i have some artists i would like to see but if i didnt i wouldnt be upset

79. What was the last concert you saw?

fan fan’s

80. Hot tea or cold tea?

hot since its cold out

81. Tea or coffee?

tea, coffee sucks

82. Favorite type of cookie?

i like m&m

83. Can you swim well?

i can swim decently well i guess

84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?

are some people not able to?

85. Are you patient?

it depends but generally no

86. DJ or band, at a wedding?

its up to the couple 

87. Ever won a contest?

ive probably won a stupid one

88. Ever have plastic surgery?

nah

89. Which are better black or green olives?

BLACK

90. Opinions on sex before marriage?

u do u as long as its consensual  

91. Best room for a fireplace?

living room i guess?

92. Do you want to get married?

lmfao we’ll cross that bridge when/ if we ever get there

#thanks mate #reply #not-ready-for-goodbye

[yestxday]

tag game 

tagged by @kais-daddy​! 💖 thank you so much for always tagging me in these 🌸💕 

RECENT:

1. drink: latte macchiato,  i can’t live without caffeine 

2. phone call: i think it was my mom?.. 

3. text message: best friend 

4. song you listened to: love - dean

5. time you cried: a few months ago (i can’t remember adsgdfd) 

6. dated someone twice: no

7. kissed someone and regretted it: … ye 

8. been cheated on: i dont think so? 

9. lost someone special: not recently 

10. been depressed: i dont think ive ever been not depressed 

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: once… 

FAVORITE COLORS:

12. light blue / pink 

13. 
warm red & brown tones 

14. 
i dont have a specific favorite color, it depends :(  

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU: 


15. made new friends: yes!! 

16. fallen out of love:
 no 

17. laughed until you cried: a lot thanks to my friends 

18. found out someone was talking about you:
 no

19. met someone who changed you: yes, a few 

20. found out who your friends are: already knew that 

21. kissed someone on your Facebook list: i dont use facebook 

22. how many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: / 

23. do you have any pets: yes! i have a 12 y old dog that i love more than anything her name is holly, she loves naps and belly scratches 

24. do you want to change your name: no im quite happy with it, but i wanted to when i was younger 

25. what did you do for your last birthday: my mom bought a rainbow cake  (lgbtq solidarity), my parents made me wear a party hat, my best friend bought me a suho sweater (i owe her my soul now) and i spent the night in eating cake with her.

26. what time did you wake up: usually it depends on my schedule, today i woke up at 2pm bc i pulled an all nighter 

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: netflix 

28. name something you can’t wait for: this might sound cheesy but i can’t wait to move in with my best friend and have a cute little apartment full of plants, stupid stuff we dont need, maybe a dog or two and finally be at peace with myself 

29. when was the last time you saw your mom: 
shes sitting in front of me 

31. what are you listening to right now: 11:11 - taeyeon

32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: 
no?.. 

33. something that is getting on your nerves: nothing in particular but in general id say the world 

34. most visited website: youtube

35. hair colour: dark brown with copper tones? 

36. long or short hair: shoulder length, im growing it out 

37. do you have a crush on someone?: kim jisoo 

38. what do you like about yourself: sometimes im funny i guess

40. blood type: i asked my mom and she said a positive 

41. nickname: bea, bia, beowulf (i hate this one) and bärchen (its a cute form of bear in german), if anyone comes up with better ones let me know 

42. relationship status: 
single 

43. zodiac:  ☀️
 capricorn  🌕  aquarius ⬆️ cancer 

44. pronouns: she/her

45. favourite tv show: brooklyn 99 or mr. robot

46. tattoos: hopefully im getting one this year!! 

47. right or left handed: right

48. surgery: as in cosmetic surgery? then no

50. sport: i like running ?? does that count

51. vacation: recently portugal, id love to travel to japan once 

52. pair of trainers: nike air max


MORE GENERAL 


53. eating: desserts and fruits! they can’t be too sweet though 

54. drinking: 
water or tea 

55. I’m about to: prepare a guitar lesson for tomorrow 

56. waiting for: the exo repackage

57. want: money, so i can buy a huge house and take in stray animals 

58. get married: mhhh, im not a big fan of the concept of marriage?? but id love to wear a pretty dress for my beautiful girlfriend and have a huge party where we can be disgustingly cute and in love 

59. career: this is a tough one bc i have no idea what to do with my life but maybe 
music/film production, media design or anything creative 

WHICH IS BETTER


60. hugs or kisses: 
hugs!! im not a very touchy person BUT i love cuddling when im sleepy 🤧  

61. lips or eyes: eyes 

62. shorter or taller: tbh i dont care 

63. older or younger: 
older

64. nice arms or nice stomach: ??? no preference (cute tummies tho) 

65. hook up or relationship: neither 

66. troublemaker or hesitant: a little bit of both  


HAVE YOU EVER: 


67. kissed a stranger: no

68. drank hard liquor: …yeah

69. lost glasses/contact lenses: glasses, im shortsighted 

70. turned someone down: yes 

71. sex on the first date: no, im too shy for that 

72. broken someone’s heart: yes

73. had your heart broken: yes, last year 

74. been arrested: no

75. cried when someone died: yes 

76. fallen for a friend: yes, a lot of my relationships started out as friendships 


DO YOU BELIEVE IN: 


77. yourself: i try to 

79. love at first sight: no, that’d be superficial 

80. santa claus: not anymore :(

81. kiss on the first date: if its consensual why not? 

82. angels: exo and girlgroups are angels so yeah

OTHER: 


84. eye colour: brown

85. favourite movie: probably kill your darlings, idk i like everything that isnt a romantic comedy or by nicholas sparks

i tag @hvvangminhyun @yeah-itsyixingright-here @sunshineyeols @hobibi and everyone else that wants to do this!! 

#this was so long asfdgf you dont have to do it!!!!!!! #there might be a few errors in this but im too tired im sorry #😭 #about