#|v; my dreams wouldn’t be complete without you both in it

[ohcaptains]

𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬.

 pairing. anakin skywalker x f!reader 

synopsis. anakin finds loopholes in the jedi code.

warnings. 18+. this is sexually explicit, do not read this or interact with my blog if you’re a minor. do not copy my shit, i’ll find out. cock warming, p in v penetration but no movement. whimper-y anakin, if you move i'll leave the jedi order type beat.  

an. just a little something i wrote for the kinktober i never did. I thought i'd post instead of letting it collect dust in my drafts. the prompt was cockwarming! hope i did anakin justice<3 pls comment & reblog.

You find him at the window.

Sitting, with his thighs open and chest bare, staring out into the abyss. The night glints at the beads of sweat sliding down his chest, and his fingers drum endlessly against his thighs.

He heard you wake up, so he’s expecting your company, and has leaned back against the chair – thin black gown falling open – ready for you to climb all over him.

It happens often.

It’s not uncommon to wake up without him.

Most nights, you startle out of your slumber – as if even asleep, you’d sensed a shift – and blink at the space on the mattress beside you.

Finding him was easy.

You pad through the living room and wordlessly reach him in his post-nightmare state. His hair is tousled, sculpted chest is slick with sweat -- there’s an energy vibrating off of him, and you can taste it in the air.

Stepping behind him, you gently run the tips of your fingers over his shoulders, and the whirlpool in Anakin’s belly settles for a second. When you move into frame, it’s gone completely, replaced by a warm heat that has roots. He breathes a smile.

“Like clockwork.”

You give him a sheepish grin in return and fiddle with the fabric of your small nightgown. There’s a moment where Anakin gets to look at you – all sleepy and cuddly – and he’s ready to escape with you off of this forsaken planet.

His will holds strong.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” he asks, raising a scarred brow, and despite your groggy state, you still manage to roll your eyes. Stepping closer, you use his broad shoulders as anchors to slip onto his lap.

“Don’t make that face,” Anakin hushes, and while you settle back onto his thighs, his metal hand comes up. He traces the line of your jaw, “You know I let you do what you want.”

His spare hand steadies your hips, and it’s still warm from his lightsaber. Calloused fingers run over your skin, reminding you of the fight that’s leaving scars – the war that’s brewing, both inside and outside of his mind.

In moments like this, though, there’s a subtle calm.

An impenetrable force that hums over the pair of you.

You lean into his palm and whisper, “Not everything.”

There’s a haunted edge to your gaze, and your words are loaded. Anakin knows what you mean, knows all the intricacies of your subtle dig, and yet, he still manages to smile.

Well, smirk.

“What do you want? Just say the word.”

You wouldn’t, and Anakin knows that. He’s caught your bluff, and you manage a bashful smile before gently leaning forward, dragging your hips against his lap.  

Anakin’s cloth-covered thigh nestles against the thin fabric of your underwear. Your smile falters, lips parting. You push your forehead against his, and whisper, “If I say the words, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“I know,” he breathes, “I know.”

I want more.

A life together, not stolen moments when the sun is down.

An attachment. A bond.

But it’s forbidden.

It’s why it can’t go any further than this.

“What’d you dream about?” you wonder. Anakin pulls his eyes away from you, instead looking to where his thigh sits. The silence is your answer.

“I’ll still ask, even if you never tell.”

He takes hold of your bare thighs, rubbing his hands up and down, and you hum his name, reaching out to push his hair behind his ears.

“Pretty boy.”

“Stop it,” he huffs, cheeks reddening.

But how can you? When he’s all sharp lines and long hair. You run your hands up the bare panes of his muscular chest, feeling the deft of his muscles, and the dampness on his skin.

The air changes – hums electric – and it buzzes as you push his gown off his shoulders.

Carefully, you lean forward and place a chaste kiss against his collarbone.

“That’s better.”

Anakin hums a laugh. His hands snake around to your lower back, dig into the fat of your ass, and using the grip there, he gently rocks you forward once, forcing your clothed cunt to drag against his muscular thigh.

You whimper. It’s quiet, but Anakin can hear it, even if it’s muffled by his shoulder.

“’ S’what you came out here for, huh?” he whispers. The electric flooding through the walls hums, but the room is still eerily silent. Anakin’s voice is a roar.

You lick your lips and drag your face up to see him. “No,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss against his top lip, “I like being with you, even if we don’t do this.”

Anakin has to close his eyes. Words like those are fuel to the fire brimming in his chest, and it doesn’t help that you wrap your arms around his neck and fiddle with the tail end of his hair.

Arching your back, you slowly roll backwards, then forward, teasing the bulge between his legs.

Releasing a shaky breath, you repeat the motion, again, and again, near humping his leg.  

A familiar ache begins to swell, coiling between your thighs and up into your belly. It makes you clench around nothing, and you mewl quietly, wishing for more – always wishing for more.

Still, you continue, slick pooling into your underwear and against his thigh.

Anakin can’t look at you. If he sees your face, his resolve will falter.

His nerves are shot. If he couldn’t feel how wet you are, he could smell it, and it makes a groan bristle behind his teeth.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck and busies himself with kissing at the soft shell of your throat, careful not to leave marks.

Once, you left a mouth-shaped mark against his stomach, and he looked at it every day for a week.

Caught himself with his top up in the mirror looking at the reflection, eyeing the way the mark sat on the firm lines of muscle, fading away with time.

A dark part of him wanted the mark on the slope of his neck.

“Wanna be inside of you.”

His admission rests heavily against your throat, and you’re thankful that he can’t see the way you clench your eyes closed.

Though, he does feel you tighten your grip on the back of his head. Feels you shift up against his thigh, and the warmth pooling in your underwear burns against him.  

He can sense you’re hesitant.

“’ can be like last time. Just – Just --” he stutters, licking his lips and struggling to release the words from the back of his throat. Finally, he manages. “--Sit on it.”

“Anakin.”

He pulls away from your neck and looks up at you.

“We can use it as an exercise.”

A laugh bursts from your throat, “To test your will?”

He smiles, and because you have to, you push your cunt against his crotch, uttering, “Want me to make It difficult for you?” and white flashes through Anakin’s eyes.

He grabs your hips to steady you, tensely pushing his fingers into your skin.

“Hardest challenge I’ll ever encounter.”

“You eager to impress?”

He kisses your jaw, “Don’t I always?”

“Mm,” you hum, cradling his chin. You shift back so he can pull his trousers down, and when you take his cock in your hand, he melts. His commanding aura switches for a moment, and you watch Anakin still his breathing.

You push your underwear to the side, and as you lift yourself to sink onto him, Anakin breathes, “Just the tip – just a little bit, j-just—” and he chokes on his words, gasping as you brush the leaking head of his cock through your folds.

You halt. Whimper. Have to grip his shoulder to steady yourself, or you’ll push him inside of you all at once and hurt yourself.

You inhale steadily.

“Have to – have to go slow,” you spurt, trying to calm your tremors.  

“It’s been a while since…”

You don’t have to finish your sentence. Anakin knows, and he feels a mix of pride and guilt. Only me, he thinks, and then, like a flash, only me, he swallows. And I can’t give her everything.

This. This is as far as it’ll go. He knows he’s pushing it. Knows that he’s come up with some convoluted rule to both have his cake and eat it too.

If he fucks you the way he wants to, he’ll fall in love with you. As if it hasn’t happened already.

Anakin has made lying to himself a speciality.

You push against him once more, and the tip of his cock nudges between your folds, forcing an ache to shoot through your clit and make you dizzy. You stop. Pause and curse yourself.

A slow burn builds in your thighs, and you clench down to try and mediate the burn. Anakin grunts.

“Maker,” he utters. “Sorry—” you splutter, sucking in a tight breath.

Anakin wraps his metal arm around the back of your hips, hoping to steady you. “Lemme,” he mumbles, and gently, he flexes his hips up, slowly feeding his cock into your soaked pussy.  

Your lower abdomen immediately burns.  

He’s being calm about it – using all his training – but there’s nothing calm about the words trickling out of his mouth.

“Oh stars,” he groans, voice wrecked, “You gonna take all of me, sweet girl? Gonna let me fill you up?”

When you finally sink to the hilt, your resolve snaps. The pair of you moan out in unison, loud and high-pitched.

Anakin buries his face in your chest, and the heat of his mouth against your breasts adds to the tension coiling in your belly.

“Don’t – don’t move,” he grunts, and you shake your head, “I won’t – I’ll come on your cock if I do,” and you don’t mean to say it like that, don’t mean for the words to come out like that, but you feel Anakin pulse from inside of you, warm and hard and wet.

He manages to laugh.

“Tryna kill me,” he shakily breathes, shaking his head. His wet lips brush against your breasts, and you want more – want all that he can give you – so you clutch the back of his head, pulling him closer, hoping he gets the message.

His wet kisses make your skin prickle.

You’re full up. Can feel him stretching you out, this feeling something that’s only happened a few times before.

“If you move,” Anakin begins, out of breath, “I’ll leave the Jedi order and spend my days inside of you.”

“Don’t t-tempt me.”

He laughs, and you accidentally clench around him, causing him to groan deep and long against your tits.

“If you do that again, I’ll come inside of you.”

You imagine it. Imagine him spilling out, the wet white of it dripping out of your cunt and back onto his cock, and the mere image of it has your clit throbbing.

Keep still. Don’t move.

But he wraps his tongue around your nipple and begins to suck.

You cry out, and all of your muscles tighten, forcing you to clench tight around his cock. Anakin jolts and whines your name against your tits.

“S’your fault,” you mewl, moaning. You hang your head back, “Stars, Anakin.”

“Try and stay still,” he mumbles, and you stutter a laugh, “Impossible.”

“It can’t be,” he responds, and while he speaks in jest, his words are sincere. The line between love and lust runs thin, and if Anakin is being honest with himself, it’s close to snapping.

[tinalbion]

Hi Tina!!!

I just saw your requests are open for Logan...❤️‍🔥

Might I request something a wee bit nsfw? (actually completely nsfw if I'm being honest here) I just saw a tiktok that did a deep dive into wolverine's animalistic instincts and I seriously cannot stop thinking about it.

Those instincts in bed? yes please

With that being said can we get some biting and possessiveness up in here. I was thinking maybe Logan is a bit embarrassed by it but reader is completely accepting. It's mating szn and Logan's in heat 🥵🥵🥵

'𝐈 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞' ||

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x fem!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! Minors, DO NOT interact! Smut with some plot, kitchen sex, fem!Reader, unprotected p in v, biting/ marking, possessiveness, jealousy, animalistic tendencies, canon typical language, dirty talk, Logan gets embarrassed by being a little freak

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 5.2k

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: My lovely friend @nepptunez also asked for some animalistic Logan, and I want to make a little drabble about that later, but definitely needed to get this out of my system 😅 But I hope you both enjoy!

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

It was always the same thing when you and Logan had your times together, you would have this song and dance around one another, and he was hesitant and reserved while you were craving him in unspeakable ways, but it always ended up in a heated and frustrated session that left you breathless regardless. But there was always something about Logan that seemed to feel off to you like he was hiding something. You knew he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize you both, you had much more trust in him than you had in anyone in your life, so you wanted to get to the bottom of it before making it a big deal. 

You had no idea where to start or how to figure out what was ailing him, but you knew he’d been through a lot in the past, you never held that against him. Maybe it had something to do with trying to trust himself to open up, you knew he was a tough egg to crack most days. Either way, you sat at the kitchen table with your drink, scrolling through your phone aimlessly as if your mind was somewhere else. 

Logan walked in, waking up slowly from sleep as he wiped the rest from his eyes, he saw you awake already, which wasn’t usual but it didn’t bother him. “Mornin’,” he grumbled as he shuffled to the coffee pot. 

You smiled as you looked up at him, watching as he rolled his shoulders, cracking the bones and stretching his muscles. “Morning, Logan, sleep well?”

“Yeah. You’re up early.” Always the man of few words in the mornings. He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter, staring at you as he adjusted to the sunlight. 

You peeked over at him with a smile and shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep, my brain never turns off when I want it to,” you laughed, trying to avoid the conversation you were dreading, you just wanted to figure out what his problem was without getting him upset, especially if it meant him having to work through some unresolved issues. You hated forcing him to talk about it, knowing he’d spit it out when he was good and ready. 

Logan nodded as he listened, his cup brought to his lips as he watched you, your heartbeat picked up slightly, as did your temperature. He took notice of these things, but he never commented on them, not unless it became too much of a problem in his eyes. “I get that,” he said softly, drinking more of his coffee from the mug in his hand. 

“Speaking of, I noticed you haven’t been dreaming as much,” you pointed out with a genuine smile. “I’m happy something is working for you,” you said with a hum that followed. 

This made his eyes flicker away from you, feeling almost, what, shame, embarrassment? He wasn’t sure, but it was a good point; he hadn’t been waking up with as many nightmares as before. Logan had just let out a huff in reply and nodded before taking another sip of his coffee. “I suppose I haven’t,” he mused. “Guess I have that goin’ for me.”

You just stared up at him softly and offered a kind smile. “Yeah, I’m happy about that, means you can finally get some good sleep,” you joked and stood up from your chair, walked up to him, and kissed his cheek gently as you grabbed more coffee. “Oh, by the way, I got some errands to run, so if you need anything you can let me know, okay?”

Logan had always gone with you on your errands, especially since getting used to this world, the one that was still foreign to him, but this time, he sensed your hesitancy. He shot you a look and seemed almost offended. “I ain’t goin’ with you?” He asked. 

“Well, you can stay home and relax if you want, it’s just gonna be a quick thing,” you said softly, pouring some creamer into your cup and mixing it. 

Logan didn’t like that, he didn’t like the quick brush-off or how you insisted he stay behind. Maybe it was just you wanting him to relax, not to become too overwhelmed considering all of this was still new to him. But something in the way you were acting was getting him slightly riled up. He watched you carefully as you walked back to your seat, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He didn’t want you to leave the house without him, it felt wrong, and he understood this thought process was… not right, it was stupid. But why was he growing irritated with the thought of you leaving him here?

You scrolled through your phone a bit and checked the weather, seeing how warm it would be today, then you finished your coffee and smiled as you stood up, looking at Logan as he continued to look miserable. You looked at him with your brows furrowed, he seemed to be avoiding your gaze. 

“Logan, is everything okay?” You asked him as you always did, and he would probably respond the way he always did. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.”

There it was. You sighed a little but nodded and smiled softly up at him. “Okay, if you need to talk, just let me know, but I should be back soon. Maybe I could pick up something for dinner.”

His expression shifted but only a little. “Sure, that sounds good, princess,” he replied and suddenly pulled you into his embrace, one arm tightly wrapped around you as he buried his face in your hair. 

He loved your smell, your scent was one of the things that grounded him when he got in these moods, and it was tough for him to release you, but you said you’d be back soon, there was nothing to worry about. He was just overreacting, maybe he had an off night, and didn’t sleep enough, he tried to explain it away even though he knew what his problem was. 

“Okay, be careful, yeah?” 

This made you hum softly, your smile widened as you wrapped your arms tightly around him. “Always am, be back soon, big guy,” you said and leaned up on your tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Logan let out a satisfied hum, which could have been mistaken for a growl of happiness, and placed a firm kiss on your head. “Hurry back,” he said his tone still gruff. He was hesitant to let you go, but the sooner you left, the sooner you’d come back to him. 

He didn’t have the patience to deal with Wade right now, and thankfully, he was off being whisked away by his girl, Vanessa. As much as Logan appreciated the way they tried to include him, this time of year was always the most difficult, but even more so with you here. He would just have to wait it out if he could repress the urges…

Logan paced back and forth in your shared space, his instincts were going crazy right now as he tried to find ways to calm himself. Before you, he had never really had an issue controlling himself or his urges, they had always been there, kept at bay, but something about you being here with him made him feel ten times more on edge. He was an animal, everyone in his life reminded him of that, and that was true to a fault. 

This time of year was the worst, the most on edge he ever was, and he couldn’t control it around you for much longer. Leaving wasn’t an option, keeping you at a distance wasn’t either, so he fought it. It was only a few days he dealt with the heat rising in his body, the way his senses were heightened and he could smell you clearer than ever, but the ache he felt in his stomach and between his legs was growing more and more unbearable to handle. If he could just have a taste, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad… but the thought of hurting you kept him at bay, that was the last thing Logan wanted, and he couldn’t think of what would happen if he did…

While he was pacing back home, you were out grabbing some things, running errands, and doing what you always had on your weekends off. It was your ‘me time’ as you got your favorite drink from the cafe down the street and drove to the grocery store to grab some things for the weekend. You had a great dinner in mind you wanted to make for Logan, so you made sure to make a list of everything you needed. As you were halfway through, some guy was looking at you hard down the aisle. It seemed like a familiar face, but you weren’t sure. As you walked closer, it was definitely a familiar face. 

“Oh my gosh, is that you, Danny?” You asked.

The man’s face lit up and he smiled wide as he stepped up and reached an arm out, hugging you briefly. “Wow, is that you?” He asked with the same tone of surprise. “You look great! How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you since, what, end of middle school?” 

You laughed and nodded. “Yeah, I think so, that felt like ages ago, didn’t it?” You asked with a wide smile. “How’s life?”

“Ah well, had a wife, divorced, got a great kid out of it though. You?”

You shrugged and smiled. “Not married, but seeing someone, he’s great. Different. No kids.”

Danny smiled and shrugged in return. “They’re not for everyone, but I hope your guy is treatin’ you nice. It’s great to see you though, we should catch up one day. I’m usually at the coffee shop down the road every Sunday, it’s my one day of peace.”

“Maybe I could meet you there next week!” You hummed with a smile and hugged him again. “Be seeing you!”

Enough distractions, you had brought up Logan and you felt that little voice inside your head, you missed him and just wanted to sit next to him right now. So you hurried through the grocery store, ran one more errand, and drove home as soon as you could. 

You got home and entered through the door with your arms full, but Logan was already there with his arms open to grab the bags from you. “Oh, thanks, Lo,” you smiled as you walked in with your single bag in tow. 

He had stopped for a moment and sniffed heavily where you stood, his face contorted from stoic to completely annoyed. You were none the wiser as you began to put away everything in the cabinets, smiling as you were just happy to be back home. Facing away from you, his jaw clenched hard as you began to talk about your errands, about how you had some ideas you both could do around town if he wanted to try something new, but after a while, you weren’t sure that he was listening.

“Logan, you okay?” You asked softly as you walked around the kitchen table and stood behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

He tensed beneath your touch and turned slightly to peek over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m fine, just listenin’,” he grumbled. 

You looked up at him and squeezed him gently, staring with concern in your features. “You sure, Logan? You’ve been acting off the past few days and I was hoping it wasn’t something I’ve done.”

Logan sniffed the air, smelling the assaulting scent on your clothes, it was strong and he did not like it one bit. “Where were you today?” he asked suddenly. 

With a small step backward, you stared at him in confusion and slight irritation. “I told you I went to run errands, pick up groceries, as I do every weekend. Logan, what are you implying?” 

“You got some asshole’s smell on you, it’s strong, it’s infuriating,” he growled, turning around quickly to walk up to you, towering above you. “So whatever happened out there is really pissin’ me off.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, then your face lit up in realization. “Oh, I saw an old friend from school, he hugged me, that’s it. Told him a little about you, told him you were great.”

Logan could hear what you were saying, but the senses in him were on high alert and they didn’t care what you said to this guy about him. You smelled like him, like some stranger, he needed to change that and fast. He backed you up against the nearby wall his figure towered over you while one hand was placed beside your head while the other was splayed across the top of your chest and collarbone. He was holding back, you could see it, he was trying not to lose himself.

You placed your hand on his chest and looked up at him, your eyes staring directly into his. “Logan, what’s been going on with you this week?” You asked softly, your gentle voice pulling him into a pit of desire. 

“I…” he paused and wondered if this was even something he should be telling you. This was incredibly embarrassing, what would you think of him then after he told you? He huffed and looked away, annoyance etched into his features while he tried to avoid yet another awkward situation.

Your hand was placed on his cheek, pulling his face to look at you. “Logan, you know you can tell me anything,” you cooed softly, smiling up at him like that… It slowly began to chip away at the walls he had built for himself, and when it came to speaking of things about himself, that was a different story. “You're okay, right?”

Logan sighed as his eyes flickered away from you, but then a surge of rage came over him at the smell of that stranger on you, his face contorted with anger and he lunged forward, grabbed you by the waist, and lifted you onto the counter. He stepped between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips firmly.  

“You want to know if I'm okay?” He growled, his face inches from yours.

“Of course, I do!” You said with surprise and slight offense. “I always want to make sure you're alright.”

His grip on your hips tightened, and he leaned in even closer, his eyes burning into yours. “The only way you can make sure I'm fine is by leaving me alone,” he whispered harshly, his breath hot against your skin. “Go now, while I still have some shred of control left.”

You stared at him in surprise, and then looked annoyed he'd even suggested such a thing. “No.”

His expression darkened, and with a growl, his hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, just enough to cause you the least amount of pain as he pulled your head back, exposing your pretty throat to him, smiling as his nose glided across your throat as he inhaled for a moment. He bit down and hard, sinking his teeth into you. He sucked and bit, marking you, his other hand gripping your hip possessively as his body pressed against yours. He was marking you physically, then rubbing his scent all over your body to show you just who you belonged to. 

You cried out loudly, your hands gripped his arms to try and pry him off of you because of the pain, but soon, it was mixing with the urge of wanting to feel his teeth in other places.

As you leaned closer against him, he could feel the heat radiating off your body, and it made his head swim. Once he pulled away from marking you, Logan leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss. "I'm fine," he growled under his breath. “I just…”

“What?” You urged gently, feeling your entire body ignite with a mixture of fear, arousal, and thrill. 

Logan couldn't think straight. The sight of you, the way you smelled and tasted, everything about you was driving him to the edge of wanting to completely lose himself. His hands moved up your body, gripping your shirt and pulling it roughly over your head, revealing your undergarments. "You always test me, even when you're not meanin’ to do a damn thing, you're always wanting me to lose myself in you.”

"Logan, you've never acted like this before..." you replied softly, shivering from the sheer jolt of excitement that shot through your entire body. You felt the excitement pooling between your legs as he placed his hands on your thighs. 

He lifted his thumb to trace the outline of your lips before he leaned in to kiss you again. He could feel your body pressed against his and it was almost too much to bear. "Fuck," he growled, "you make me want to lose control, doll… I want to… to do things to do that would show others that you're mine, you hear me?”

You looked up at him, the smell of your arousal was strong in his nose, and he was using all he had to hold himself back. While he held onto your thighs, his hands shot out and pulled at your wrists, pulling your entire body against his as he captured your lips in his, his kiss urgent and demanding as his fingers dug into your skin. He didn’t mean to cause you any pain, he was just so overwhelmed to get that smell off of you, to make sure anyone who had dared come near you would know just who you belonged to. 

Your hands began to pull at the hem of his tank top, yanking it from being tucked into his jeans while your lips were still locked with his, but Logan pulled away faster than you could blink, growling low in his throat as he tossed off the tank top to the floor. His chest was heaving, his muscles tensed as his breathing was heavy. His face lingered closely, his gaze hungry as his eyes, dark with desire, stared into yours. 

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he said in a low tone.

This made you smile; despite all he was pissed about and all that would happen, he still had the decency to dote on you, love you, and compliment you. In his special way, of course, but he never failed to surprise you. Your hands were then placed on his chest, admiring the muscles, the chest hair, and him overall. “And you’re perfect,” you replied sweetly. 

He smiled back at you, a cocky grin at first, slowly fading into a gentle grin as his expression softened momentarily before his gaze turned intense. He reached behind you and unclasped your bra, pulling it off with a quick yank, and tossed it aside. His eyes fell to your breasts, his hands shaking with the effort of controlling himself. When you saw the hesitation, you couldn’t stop from grabbing his massive hands and placing them on your chest, giving him that silent permission. He groaned as his thumbs grazed over your nipples, then he leaned down and sucked one into his mouth, his other hand pinched and rolled the other nipple between his fingers. He sucked hard, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh. 

He pulled away and licked his lips. “Fuck, I love your tits,” he hummed before placing the other in his mouth. 

You arched your back in reply, your breathing was already shaky as you felt his hands doing the bare minimum while your body responded in ways you didn’t think it could. You could feel yourself leaking through your underwear, pooling between your legs as Logan was making sure to put his mouth anywhere he could, marking you with his sharp teeth. “Fuck, Logan,” you whined.

He released your nipple with a pop and looked into your eyes, his gaze intense. “You smell fucking perfect, so wet for me and I’ve barely done a thing to you.” He reached his hand between your legs and began to rub your clit through your shorts, his fingers pressed against your soaked fabric. “Damn, you are,” he mused.

You wiggled as you tried to buck your hips to the best of your abilities, but standing wasn’t your strong suit, so you just whined and wished he’d take you already. You were always so willing when he was around you, it didn’t matter what state of mind you were in, you needed him as much as he needed you. You swallowed and panted before looking directly into his eyes. 

“Logan, please,” you urged.

“Please what? Use your words, baby girl. Tell me.” He moved his fingers and hooked them onto the waistband of your shorts, tugging at them playfully. “Want these off?”

You nodded eagerly and shimmied out of them as fast as you could, your hands helping him with getting rid of them. “I want you to fuck me,” you breathed, your chest heaving from the excitement. “But you need to ditch those jeans…”

Logan chuckled and quickly unbuttoned, then unzipped his jeans, shoving them down his legs along with his boxers. His hard cock sprung free, already leaking with precum. “Mhm, fuck, got me so excited already,” he grumbled. 

“Can’t help it,” you purred in response, watching him carefully as he stepped back toward you, ripping off your underwear with one fluid motion, causing you to gasp. 

“I know you can’t,” he said softly as he suddenly grabbed you by your hips, making sure to have your legs wrapped around his waist as he moved you toward the counter, setting you down on the surface. “Now spread those legs and show me your pussy,” he demanded, his voice rough with desire.

You wouldn’t deny him this, so you nodded and leaned back, your hands flat on the counter as you spread your legs open for him, seeing just how wet you’d been for him. Your face was so red, so warm from seeing Logan in such a state that you couldn’t speak much after his eyes raked over you, landing on your soaked heat.

He groaned low at the sight and stepped between your open thighs, grabbed your hips, and pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, the cool marble against your backside. “Wrap your arms around my neck,” Logan instructed. “And your legs around my waist.”

You nodded and did as he told you, scooting forward against the marble eagerly as your legs and arms wrapped around his body. 

Logan gripped your ass with both hands and tilted your hips upward. “Atta girl,” he cooed as he began to rub his throbbing cock against your wet folds a few times, teasing you and readying himself. “Look at me,” he said gruffly.

You stared up at him, your eyes wide with eagerness as he planned on taking you here in the kitchen. “Logan,” you breathed softly, wanting to say so much to him, but you couldn’t find the words.

He met your gaze, his eyes burned with intensity. “I’m going to fucking destroy that tight little pussy,” he growled, lining himself up with your entrance. “And you’re gonna love every second of it.”

Your breathing grew heavier as your entire body shivered upon hearing his promise. Of course, you’d love every second, you always loved any attention Logan showered you with. “Yes, Lo, please,” you begged.  

He doesn't waste any more time, so with one swift thrust, he buried himself inside of you to the hilt. "Goddamn, you feel so fucking good," he groaned, his head dropped to your shoulder as he fought for control. "You're so wet, so tight.”

You gasped and you moaned out loudly, feeling his cock pushed all the way, bottoming out as you breathed heavily. The sting of his stretch felt so good, that you clung to his body as you tried to ground yourself. "Fuck, Lo, you're so big..”

He grinned at your words and started to piston his hips, slamming into you over and over again. "You just take it," he commanded. "Every inch of me. You wanted it so bad, didn't you? You needed me to fill you up. Show you who you belonged to.”

"Y-Yes, fuck, oh my god, Logan!" You cried out, your nails digging into his arms as he plowed into you.

Logan's eyes flashed with a primal hunger and he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. "Say my name again," he growled in your ear. “Tell me who you belong to.”

You gasped and stared into his eyes as his hand wrapped around your throat. "You, Logan!" You cried out, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked when he heard his name, feeling your pulse racing under his thumb. He squeezed tighter and started to fuck into you harder. "Good girl," he praised. "Say it again.”

You cried out with each hard thrust, smiling as he used his hand to choke you. "F-Fuck, Logan!”

His grin widened, baring his teeth at you. "Louder. Let the whole house hear who's making you scream." He sped up his movements, his hips slapped against your backside with every powerful thrust. "Come on, baby.”

"LOGAN!" You cried out loudly once more, his hips slapping into yours as you tried your best to hold onto the counter, shaking beneath him.

The sound of his name echoing in the kitchen spurred him on. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and sucked hard, no doubt leaving another mark. "Legs around my waist," he grunted, his voice muffled against your skin.

You did as you were told and made sure to tighten your legs around his waist, panting heavily as he scooted you even closer to his body. Logan started to fuck you more roughly, holding you up easily with your legs around his waist. His thrusts became even harder, every collision making your whole body shake. "I want you to know you’re mine, you understand me? No one can make you feel the way I do.”

“L-Logan, won't last long like this,” you said between gritted teeth and breaths that were pulled from you, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he buried himself inside of you. 

His face contorted in pleasure as he growled against your neck. "Then we'll come together.” He grunted with effort, his abs tightened as he drove into you again and again, his rhythm becoming more erratic. "Touch yourself, need you to come on my cock.”

You reached between your bodies and began to sloppily rub your clit as he thrusts into you, your body shivering heavily as you could feel that coil deep within you wanting to snap. It was difficult to keep going with Logan pounding into you mercilessly, but you needed to appease him, or else who knew how long he'd keep this up. 

He groaned encouragingly, his voice hoarse with passion. "That's it, baby. You're so close, I can feel you tightening around me.” 

He grunted again, his own release drawing closer. His hips jackhammer between your thighs, the wet sounds of their joining filling the room. 

"Ahhh, fuck, Logan, gonna-gonna," you started, attempting to survive just a few more moments until you came undone. "Coming!" You cried out, your entire body clenching around Logan’s as you clung to him.

Hearing your cries of pleasure, Logan plunged deep inside you one final time as he too reached his peak. He threw back his head and roared out his release while he moved his hands to your outer thighs, already feeling the familiar sensation of his claws protracting as his entire body tensed, his vision whited out as he lost all sense of being. "Fuck!" His fingers dug into your skin, the tips turning white from the strain as he held you in place, his arms like steel around you as he rode out his orgasm, the added intensity of his claws keeping you from moving as his hot seed spilled deep inside you, filling you up. 

"Mine," he growled possessively, his voice shaking with exertion and emotion. "You're fucking mine, always."

"Yours," you said breathlessly as you rested your head against his shoulder while your arms wrapped around his chest.

Logan's arms slowly relaxed while his claws retracted, and he gently unraveled your legs from his waist, letting your feet find the floor once more. He pressed soft, lingering kisses to your neck and shoulders, kissing over the dark-colored bruises and hickeys he left along your neck and collarbone, then rested his head back on your shoulder as he slumped over. 

“‘M sorry, dunno what… came over me… that's…” He stopped and kept his head lowered.

You just laughed and wrapped your arms around his body, pulling him close as you gently rubbed his back. “Don't apologize,” you cooed softly. “You’re just worked up.”

“No, it’s… not just that, it’s somethin’ else. I get… in these moods, like,” he groaned and shook his head slightly, already feeling the embarrassment flooding his face. “Like animals in mating season; territorial, possessive. Can’t help it sometimes and your smells drive me insane.” 

That was it, that’s why he’d been acting weirdly jealous, clingy, and just wanting to be closer. “Oh, oh!” you said softly as you looked down at him, smiling even wider now. He shared a new part of himself with you, something he found awkward to speak about, and he opened up. You brushed his hair gently, running your fingers through it as you couldn’t hide your smile. “Why didn’t you say so?”

He lifted his head slowly to look up at you. “You’re not… freaked out by it?” He asked, his brows furrowed together. 

You just chuckled in response. “No, of course not, why would I be?” You continued to run your hand across his hair, comforting him to the best of your abilities. “Logan, when I said I accepted you, that was all of you,” you explained. 

This took him off guard, surprised him even, but your words had made his stomach stir, and he couldn’t stop from grabbing you and pulling you against him. You melted in his grasp, smiling wide as you wrapped your arms around him, showing him you were here for him. All of him. Logan didn’t have to say anything, he wasn’t a man of words, more of action, so when you wouldn’t pull away from him in moments like these, it showed that you were a woman of action, too. 

His arms wrapped even tighter around you, his chest still heaving slightly as his breath slowly returned, and he couldn’t help but nuzzle into the crook of your neck. “You’re really okay with it?” He asked again. 

“Ssh, Logan, just accept that I might actually like it when you get possessive,” you said playfully, planting a kiss on the side of his head. 

Logan smiled softly, nuzzling your neck as the urge to mark you washed over him once again, his mouth opened slightly while his tongue gently darted out to slide across your throat. “Good,” he mumbled against your skin. “Then you won’t mind if we take this to the room,” he added, looking up at you with that primal hunger gleaming in his eyes once again.

“I don’t mind at all, especially since it’s you.”

[simplyraeblue]

hunter and hunted (jjk)

college (summer) break au: a fic in which y/n is pining over Yuji's older brother Sukuna, while unbeknownst to her, Choso is doing the same thing for her. contents: sukuna x reader, choso x reader, modern college AU, yuji and choso are brothers, sukuna and yuji are brothers, smut warning

chapter warnings/tags: MDNI, NSWF, smut, oral (f receiving), p in v penetration, rough sex, degradation, no after care, slight non-con, after bruising, sukuna sucks during sex A/N: I never said Sukuna was gonna be a good guy yet... but that doesn't mean I don't plan to try and redeem him. Sukuna is an absolute toxic man at this point, so keep that in mind.

index part five | part seven

part five word count: 2,931

you couldn't quite figure out what had come over Sukuna recently. over the past few days, he seemed to be everywhere you were. after your kiss, he’d been noticeably kinder—or at least less overtly hostile—and he wasn’t completely avoiding you anymore.

“is it just me, or did someone kidnap my brother and replace him with a clone?” Yuji asked, watching as Sukuna offered you a bite of his food before retreating to his room to eat.

you shrugged, trying to play it cool. “probably, but I’m not complaining. if I can get through a day without being cursed out every other sentence, I’m all for it.”

“it’s just weird,” Yuji said, leaning against the counter and staring at the stairs as if expecting answers to materialize. “it’s like he only acts like this around you.”

his comment made your cheeks warm. there was no way he’d figure it out so quickly. “maybe he’s been sipping on some respect women juice?” you suggested with a smile.

Yuji’s face lit up as if a light bulb had gone off. “that’s it! I bet he found a girlfriend!”

you choked on your drink. Yuji’s theory left you sputtering, trying to regain your composure. “uh, yeah, maybe,” you managed to say, still a bit flustered.

Yuji’s excitement was palpable. “it makes sense, right? maybe he’s trying to impress someone.”

you forced a laugh, hoping Yuji wouldn’t press further. “sure, let’s go with that.”

Yuji seemed to accept this explanation, nodding to himself. “well, if it means he’s less of a jerk, I guess I’m okay with it.”

as Yuji wandered off, you found yourself alone with your thoughts, your mind racing. Sukuna's recent change in behavior was a puzzle, and while Yuji’s theory was amusing, you knew there was more to it. a darker truth, a deeper desire burning inside of your bones that would never dare admit to your best friend.

when sukuna emerged from his room later, his usual guarded demeanor was back in place, but there was a hint of something softer in his eyes when he looked at you. it was a stark contrast to the rough exterior he usually wore.

“Yuji’s got a big mouth. could hear him all the way upstairs,” sukuna said gruffly, though there was no real malice in his tone.

you raised an eyebrow, playing along. “yeah, he does. but what’s this about you being a clone?”

sukuna smirked, a trace of his old self peeking through. “I guess I’ll have to keep you guessing.”

as he walked past you, his fingers brushed against yours, sending a shiver up your spine. you weren’t sure if you should push it with him, but you were aching to bring up the kiss. the way he spoke about wanting to see if you were innocent. the feeling of his hands on your hips – and the fact that you were ready to let him do whatever he wished. maybe if you just-

“you’re starin’ at me like I’ve got two heads, doll.” Sukuna’s voice cracked through your thoughts. he tilted his head quizzically at you, trying to read your expression with a smirk. “having a walking wet dream about me?”

“sukuna!” you hissed, whipping around to scan the living room, ensuring that Yuji and Choso were both well out of earshot. “don’t be so crass.”

Sukuna’s smirk only grew as he advanced, his presence forcing you against the counter. “looks like we’re right back to where we were a few days ago,” he drawled, his eyes glinting with mischief.

you felt a flush creep up your neck at the memory, the way it played so vividly in your mind as if it had happened just moments ago. “I thought you’d have forgotten by now.”

Sukuna leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “if you find yourself feeling lonely tonight, you know exactly where to find me.”

a shiver jolted through your body at his words, and you had to clamp down on the urge to grab his face and pull him into a kiss right there in the kitchen. Sukuna’s low, rumbling chuckle echoed in your ears as he drew back, his eyes dancing with a mischievous glint. with one last, lingering wink, he turned and walked back to his room, leaving you to grapple with the heat of his words and the buzz of his presence still lingering in the air.

you felt like a machine, mechanically going through the motions to get ready to go to bed, the electricity still buzzing inside of you. you combed through your hair (with a little more care than usual), brushed your teeth (maybe a little to vigorously), and applied a lovely, scented lotion. sure, maybe you added some extra steps to your routine, and maybe you slipped on a cuter set of pajamas than usual.

but no matter how much you might have primped, you swore up and down that you wouldn’t be the one to make the first move.

as you lay in bed, struggling to quiet your racing thoughts and falling prey to fantasies that danced through your mind, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand. you nearly leaped out of bed to grab it, a surge of anticipation and nervous energy rushing through you.

‘Kuna: you up?’

you couldn’t help but chuckle at the audacity of his text—so straightforward, so typical of him. a whirlwind of emotions churned inside you as you debated whether or not to reply. before you could make up your mind, your phone buzzed again.

‘Kuna: get up here.’

your heart skipped a beat. it was as if an invisible string had yanked you from your bed. without a second thought, you slipped out of bed, making sure to close your door quietly behind you. you crept up the stairs as stealthily as possible, the silence of the house amplifying each step you took. when you reached Sukuna’s door, you knocked softly, the anticipation making your pulse race.

when the doorknob turned, Sukuna swung it open, revealing himself in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. your hands were already trembling with nerves, the sight of him in such a casual state sending a jolt of excitement through you. “come in, welcome to my dungeon,” he said with a lopsided grin, stepping aside to let you enter.

as you stepped into the room, a wave of anxiety settled into your stomach. the space before you was one you had always been forbidden from entering—a room even Yuji hesitated to tread. the room was a stark contrast to the rest of the house, a sanctuary that seemed to exude Sukuna’s very essence.

“wow, I feel like I’m breaking some sort of rule by being in here,” you joked, trying to mask your unease as you took in the scene. the room was dark and moody, with deep-toned bedding and a set of weights casually thrown into one corner. heavy metal band posters adorned the walls, each one screaming Sukuna’s personality.

before you could comment further on the eclectic decor, Sukuna closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your hips firmly. he spun you around to face him, his lips crashing into yours with an urgent intensity. “been wanting to do that every damn day,” he growled, his voice rough with longing as he nipped at your lips. the fierceness of his kiss sent shivers down your spine, and all your previous anxiety seemed to melt away under the heat of his touch.

“why haven’t you?” you asked through kisses, your hands already coming around to fist the back of his shirt.

“damn brats all over the place.” he muttered, bringing his hands onto your face. you weren’t surprised by how rough and insistent he was being – your desire to just be touched by him overwhelmed you.

“well, you’ve got me all to yourself now.” you told him as his lips trailed from yours down your neck, biting the skin there and causing you to groan.

he didn’t respond, only guided you backwards until your legs hit the edge of his bed before you laid on your back. Sukuna leaned above you, looking down at you as you stared up at him. maybe, you told yourself, just maybe he was looking at you with actual affection.

“I told you I’ve been wanting to see how innocent you were, now I’ve got the chance.” Sukuna grunted as he dipped his head down to your neck again while his hands began to roam your body. everywhere he touched, everywhere he kissed, left a trail of fire that had your skin burning.

through your heavy, pleasured breathing, you grabbed his face to bring him up to kiss you – but he pulled away to dive into your breasts. you gasped at the contact, feeling him shoving the material up your body and roughly pulling it over your head. “Sukuna,” you squealed, wanting to cover up.

as your arms went to cover yourself, he grabbed your wrists and pinned them over you with one hand. Sukuna immediately latched himself onto one of your perked up nipples, sucking and nipping at them feverishly. when he bit a little too hard, you yelped out, only making him go harder at the sound.

you wanted him to kiss you, but every time you tried to connect your lips with his he buried his face elsewhere. his hand untied your silky shorts, shoving them down your legs. you might’ve thought nothing of it until you felt a cool breeze hitting your already dripping core. he’d taken your panties with your pants.

“Sukuna, maybe we should slow-”

“shh.” he interrupted, letting his grip on your wrist go before moving that hand to cover your mouth. “wanna taste you.”

with your eyes as wide as saucers, you watched as he nuzzled into your heat, quickly licking a stripe through your folds. your back arched and you moaned into his hand at the contact, wanting more. needing more.

as if your reaction told him all he needed to hear, he suddenly slurped up your juices loudly, his tongue diving into your pussy. “Skna,” you whined, muffled by his skin as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“taste s’ good.” Sukuna murmured as he devoured you. instinctively, your thighs began to squeeze shut, clenching his head between them. he didn’t even look up at you as he pulled up from licking you to spit on your clit before taking it between his lips, sucking hard and swirling his tongue around it.

he removed his hand from your mouth to pry one of your legs to the side, gripping it so hard you were sure you’d have bruises in the shape of his fingertips. “Sukuna, feel s’ good.” you rasped as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you at a faster pace now, every suck of your clit sending you closer and closer to your orgasm.

just as you thought you were about to cum, and were close to warning him, he withdrew his fingers and his mouth, leaving you cold. “need t’ fuck you right now.” Sukuna growled, grasping your hips and flipping you with harsh speed so that you were on your stomach. he slid a hand under you, pulling your hips up so that your ass was in the air. 

“fuck, do you have a condom?” you asked, your body trembling with desire and a tightness in your gut from getting so close to your release.

“no, don’t use ‘em.” you wanted to protest, but you were so desperate for him to just put it inside of you.

you tried to turn your body, so that you could see his face, but his hand shot to the back of your neck and lower back to keep you in place. “stay still f’ me doll.” he groaned, and before you could plead with him to kiss you, you felt his tip teasing your entrance.

when the hell did he take off his pants?

while you weren’t inexperienced with sex, having a few flings over your college years, you were pretty sure it had never been like this. just as you were thinking he’d slowly enter you – just like your past experiences – you shrieked as he shoved his cock fully inside of you.

pain and pleasure seared through you as tears pricked your eyes. “you’re so – fuck – so tight.” Sukuna panted as he wasted no time in bullying his cock inside until it was kissing your cervix.

“you’re – mph – too big, Sukuna.” you moaned, trying to will your walls to stretch for him so that you wouldn’t feel the pain. “s-slow down.”

but he either didn’t hear you over his own pleasure, or didn’t care, because his pace only quickened. “that’s right, doll – hah – take my fat cock like the little slut you are.” Sukuna bit out, snapping his hips into yours with such force that you almost fell forward.

“Sukuna, please—” you whimpered, biting your lip in a desperate attempt to stay quiet. you could barely muster the words, but you needed him to kiss you, to slow down and be gentler.

the hand Sukuna held on to the back of your neck slipped around to grab your throat, pulling your body back to meet his pace. “takin’ it s’ well.” slap. “knew you weren’t innocent.” slap. “gonna be m’ dirty whore.”

with every dirty insult, you tried to tell yourself that he probably just had a degradation kink. he didn’t actually mean those things. with your body still at war between pain and pleasure, you felt him bullying your g spot with his cock and you arrived at the edge yet again.

“Sukuna – ha – slow down – mph – ‘m gonna cum.” you hiccupped, tears rolling down your face now at the stimulation your body was being put through. every time his tip hit your g spot you felt the wave start to crash over you. he didn’t slow down, sending you right over the cliff.

your vision went white as a blazing hot orgasm rocketed through you, your body spasming and clenching around his cock while you tried to keep quiet and not scream his name. even as you rode out your release, he continued bullying into you, harder and faster now as he relished the feeling of you milking him.

“that’s right, cum on this dick.” Sukuna barked, his grip tightening on your throat to the point you were beginning to see stars. his hips snapped into yours more forcefully, echoing lewd, wet slaps through the room as he neared the ledge as well, losing control of his thrusts.

just as you were about to tell him to pull out, since he wasn’t wearing a condom, you felt a twitch inside of you as he let out a loud groan. warmth spread through your pussy, coating your walls with his cum as he rutted into you. “fuck fuck fuck.” he growled out, slamming into you until he was absolutely drained of cum.

you both were panting heavily when he pulled out of you. “that was-” you started to say with a weak smile, until Sukuna practically threw a towel in your direction.

“here, to clean up.” he stated, using a washcloth to clean himself off before pulling up his boxers and sweatpants.

shame rushed through you suddenly. he didn’t even look at you as he went to take a drink of water, merely letting you clean yourself off as you felt his cum seeping out of you. you screamed at him in your mind to just look at you, to kiss you softly and help you clean up the mess he made, to hold you and caress you and to –

“’m gonna crash now.” Sukuna broke through your storm of thoughts, pulling back his blankets and climbing in bed while you still sat on the edge. “maybe you should go back downstairs, so it’s not suspicious in the morning.”

tears welled up in your eyes as you scrambled to put your pajamas back on, your movements hurried and frantic. “y-yeah, that makes sense,” you forced out, trying to sound casual despite the tears now streaming down your cheeks. you refused to turn around, unwilling to let him see you cry. “goodnight,” you mumbled as you opened his door and fled from the room, shutting it quietly behind you.

you stood in the hallway for a moment, feeling numb and disoriented, as if your legs were unable to move on their own. with a sense of zombie-like detachment, you made your way down the stairs, no longer caring about making any noise. you trudged into the bathroom; the fluorescent lights harsh against your tear-streaked face.

you grabbed a wet washcloth and began to clean up, your silent sobs almost breaking through. as you wiped your legs, a sudden sharp pain made you flinch. glancing down, you saw dark bruises beginning to form on your thighs, one set specifically looking like finger markings. panic surged through you, and you rushed to the mirror, your breath hitching as you saw a handprint emerging on your neck and a raw, angry bite mark between your neck and shoulder. the sight made your heart race, and your breathing came in shallow gasps, the reality of what had happened crashing down on you with brutal clarity.

when your head finally hit the pillow, your entire body aching and tears still rolling down your face, you found sleep quickly. and this time, there were no pleasant dreams to make you feel better.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

A/N DISCLAIMER: let me just clarify, this is NOT how sex should be unless both parties' consent to this level of degradation and roughness. if you're into that kind of thing and your partner is too, then by all means have at it! I took this from my own past relationship, and how it was, and I know it was never supposed to be like that. so please, don't think this is normal whatsoever. IT IS NOT. this is purely a work of fiction, and I would never tell anyone that this was okay.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ taglist: @nighttwingg @sweetsformysoul @casualpoetrytaco @lvingd3adg0rl @haikomaiko if you’d like to be added to the taglist for this WIP let me know! ♡ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

[wonwoonlight]

my way to you:

of dreams and moonlight / jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x fem!Reader

➝ rich!AU // heir & heiress!AU // est relationship // best friends to lovers <3 // fluff // slice of life // theyre too fucking in love its sickening // wedding talks

➝ warning: curses, so much fluff it's disgusting, kissing, they love each other so much im just projecting bc i want this!!!! D:

➝ word count: 8k~

A/N: happy new year! a little something from me to any of you who might remember this couple <3 i miss them and i love them sm. tell me if you enjoy this?

my way to you masterlist

[✾✾✾]

You and Wonwoo don't want a big wedding.

Yes, you do want the extravagant, over the top wedding because you've always liked celebrations and you're not gonna miss out on the celebration between you and Wonwoo. But you don't want it to be a big one with a bazillion people you don’t even recognize: just an intimate one with your close friends and family.

Naturally, you can't always get what you want.

You also understand why both of your parents insist on having a big one. In a world where your prestige matters more than anything, a wedding between the youngest son of the Jeons and the only heir of the Yoons simply can’t be anything but more than perfect. The biggest, most perfect celebration of the century, if possible. It needs to be something that the word ‘grandeur’ can’t even comprehend because it’s out of its league.

So you settle for a middle ground.

“Okay.” You say as your mother and Mrs. Jeon brief you on the wedding concepts they have come up with. You don’t even listen to half the things they said, because you know they would do better than you anyway. They wouldn’t pick anything not to your standard, and while some details you might not agree with, you believe the whole wedding would be perfect even without your input.

“Dear…” Your mom starts, hesitates a little because she doesn’t want you to think they’re pushing you into this. “We… We would like your opinion on this, you know? You’re a planner yourself, we'd understand if you have other thoughts regarding this.”

“Mom…” You bite back a sigh, not wanting her to think you're tired of her. The relationship between you and your parents are getting better ever since, and even though it's been almost two years since that incident, all three of you are still trying.

It's a long time coming, and while the relationship is better, it's still not what you'd call harmonious nor ideal.

It's okay though. You have your faults and they have theirs. It's not going to be easy to change the dynamics of your family, but you're glad all of you have recognized that some things need to be changed and the three of you have been putting in efforts albeit the sweet time you're all taking.

Understandable. It's never easy to change a habit and the way you treat people--even your own family.

“I simply think you and auntie will do a better job than I am.” You say in what you wish to be a gentle tone. You don't want to come off like you're complaining, but you can't be faulted for not being too enthusiastic because you know from the beginning that your wedding wouldn't be your dream wedding.

It's okay, though. You're not complaining–it's just a thought you keep to your own self and you really are grateful that your mom and Mrs. Jeon seem to be very excited about the whole thing. After all, you're an only child and Mrs. Jeon doesn't have another child's wedding she's going to be a part of.

When you and Wonwoo announced that you're engaged, the two women cried so much that your father, the man who barely blinked even during a car accident he found himself in, panicked. 

It was quite funny, if you're being completely honest. But since then, you could tell that they both are more excited about the wedding ceremony than you are.

And while there's a small voice inside you that's still disappointed because you're not going to have your dream wedding, you're genuinely happy that the two women who will mostly be in charge of it are, well, very happy about it.

You can give them this.

“It's your celebration, too.” You give them a small, genuine smile. And even though they wince a bit at what you might be implying, you don't mean anything bad, so you correct yourself before they get the wrong idea. “I understand, Mom. We kind of have no choice but to make it big, and it's okay. I told you I've accepted it. We didn't tell you about our wish to make it small to guilt trip you and Auntie. It's just something me and Wonwoo have talked about but it's okay. It's really okay. Just consider it silly musings on our part?”

Your mom, ever since the whole missing accident, has gotten very soft, too.

Well, either that or you simply haven't spent enough time with her before to be aware of her emotional tendency.

“Oh my–why… why are you crying?!” You panic, looking at Mrs. Jeon who seems to know exactly why your mom is crying.

“It’s just…” She clears her throat and composes herself, softly apologizes for the sudden emotional burst. “When… did you grow this mature?”

Feeling awkward, you're not sure how to answer that. You're not the most talkative in front of your parents, and sentimental talks like this are the worst thing ever because, as much as you appreciate it, you never know how to respond to them.

Not that you ever had to until now.

She didn't become like this right after that incident, but once the wedding planning begins, you find yourself spending a lot of time with her (and Mrs. Jeon, of course, but you've always been more comfortable with her than your mom) and that's when she becomes more open with you.

“Uhh…” You turn to Mrs. Jeon in desperation, asking for her help with your eyes. She simply smiles though and mouths you not to worry.

The wedding discussion continues for a little after that, but after you convince them that you're really giving them full control and they can proceed with anything while you'll simply join the discussion from time to time and for the final decisions, they know that there's no use trying to change your mind.

At least you're not completely abandoning the discussion, simply prefer to not be included in it intensely.

You go home (read: Wonwoo's penthouse) after that, and it's thirty minutes later that Wonwoo also returns, finding you unmoving on the couch, seemingly deep in your thoughts.

“Hey, princess.” He greets you, which you return with both of your arms extending towards him. He chuckles and happily pulls you into a hug, maneuvers the both of you so you're sitting on his lap and you just melt into his chest. “Long day?”

“Met Mom and Auntie for the wedding prep discussion.”

Wonwoo actually laughs, and you pout at him and pretend to get away only for him to tighten his arms around you.

“Did they give you a hard time?”

“Just… I don't know.”

He hums as he takes in your face; you don't look like you're annoyed, just a little tired and somewhat disoriented. You're probably still deep in your head and need more time before you're able to tell him.

“I'll wash up, then dinner, and we can talk about it later?”

You look up and stare at him for a few seconds, gathering your thoughts before you nod and peck his lips.

“You know me too well.” You kiss his cheek after that. “I'll order some Thai food?”

“Anything you want, my princess.” He teases you and avoids your punch just in time because he knows you and your violence tendency when it comes to that particular pet name paired with a certain tone of his.

An hour and a dinner later, you found yourself cuddled up on Wonwoo's bed–at this point your bed because you rarely go back to your place anyway and you've basically moved in with him the moment you got together–his fingers playing with your hair as you try to look for something on YouTube as a background noise to play on his TV.

You take your time, which Wonwoo doesn't complain about. He never does. He knows you too much to complain about anything that you do at this point, not that he has much to complain about to begin with. God, he’s too whipped it doesn’t make sense. 

“I told Mom that I don't want to get too involved in the wedding prep.”

“Yeah?” He nudges you to continue, already aware of how you feel about the wedding preparation talks. “And what did she say about that?”

“She's not too happy, I reckon. But not in an angry way; I guess she and Auntie want me to be fully involved. But…”

“You're not enthusiastic because it's not gonna be your dream wedding anyway?”

“Yeah.” You sigh, in which Wonwoo can easily detect the guilt. “But Iike… I'm really grateful for them, Won. I really am. They seem happier and much more excited than I am planning the wedding, so I thought: why not just let them plan the whole thing? Plus it's not going to be easy to pretend to be invested in it all the time. I know I'm going to sound so spoiled and ungrateful but… I just want to get married to you surrounded by people who matter, you know?”

Wonwoo holds back a grin, still finding the idea of the two of you actually getting married to be surreal. He literally proposed to you again even if you've already proposed under the privacy of your hotel room because you deserve it. Obviously, you say yes. And yet, when anyone mentions your wedding and marriage, Wonwoo still can't believe it and he's very giddy inside.

“I know, love.” He caresses your hair and rests his cheek on top of your head. He presses his lip together as the gears in his mind turn, thinking if there's anything he could do to help. “You're right about them being excited, though. Dad says it's the only thing Mom talks about now.”

“Right?” Your smile is genuine, that much he can obviously tell. “That's why I thought I'd just let them do the whole thing. It's going to be their last chance to do it, anyway. After me and you, they probably won't be able to do this anymore.”

Wonwoo hums, but you're seemingly not done yet.

“Unless we divorce and you decide to remarry, I guess.”

“What the fuck?” He curses out of shock, not expecting those words to come out of you, and you laugh heartily at how scandalized he looks. “Why would you say something like that?”

You can't stop giggling, because Wonwoo rarely curses and when he does it's usually out of frustration that's been piling up. It sounds so childish to laugh over something like this, but you just can't seem to stop laughing despite the mock offense on his face.

Wonwoo pushes your cheeks together with his palms, making your lips purse like a duck, as he narrows his eyes at you.

“You do not speak like that, okay?” He reminds you seriously. “Don’t even joke about breaking up with me. You’re stuck with me, marriage or not.”

You scrunch your nose, and after struggling for a while, Wonwoo finally releases you and you grin at him as your arms wrap around his neck.

“You talk like it’s a bad thing.” You whisper shyly with a kiss to his cheek. “It would be my pleasure to be stuck with you.”

“Good.” He states shamelessly and it’s his turn to drop a kiss on top of your head. He’s getting brazen like that when it’s the two of you, which is a good thing because he’s now much more open to expressing himself instead of holding in whatever he’s feeling–good or bad.

Being with Wonwoo romantically for almost two years now, you find that there is still stuff that you don’t know about each other; that you still have a lot to learn and you’re happy to learn every single thing about him. You bicker quite often, because you’re the type to bring things to the surface as soon as possible while Wonwoo tends to bury them first and only uncover them later when it becomes a problem.

You’ve both learned how to take a middle ground for each other.

“Tell me about your dream wedding, then.” He says as you lay together, ready for bed. “I don’t think I’ve heard you talk about it after Jinyoung’s wedding.”

“You really want to listen to me talk about this?” Skepticism fills your voice and you look up only to see him shrug.

“Amuse me. I want to know what kind of wedding you actually want.”

You ponder for a bit, not actually having a detailed image of how you want it to be. During Jinyoung’s wedding preparation, you have a lot of opinions on what to do and what not to do based on his ceremony, but, funnily enough, you’ve never really thought about what your wedding would look like.

Having been the project manager for Yoon Holdings’ functions for years and now arranging Daisy Studio’s events and projects, you’re used to listening to what the other party wants and bringing them to life.

But to have what you want brought to life…?

“Do you not actually know?”

“It’s not that.” You whine and sit straight. “I just don’t know exactly the details of what I want.”

Wonwoo laughs at this, and he hugs you back into his arms before he lets you go to follow your posture. “It doesn’t have to be detailed, love. Just tell me what you have in mind right now?”

It’s then that you realize you’ve never talked about this with Wonwoo. Yes, you’ve mentioned some of your preferences during Jinyoung’s wedding preparation, but to actually talk about your dream wedding…? On top of you not having a real idea about what you want it to be, it just doesn’t occur to you to talk about it to him.

“Well, I want it to be an intimate one. Just our… main family? Maybe close cousins. And then Chaeyoung, of course. Soonyoung, obviously. Jennie will probably come, I don’t mind her being invited.”

“And that’s it?”

“Don’t tease me.” You glare at him. “I know I don’t have a lot of friends. You’re one of them.”

“Wow. Getting friendzoned, aren’t I?”

You look at him in warning once again, and he knows to drop it and he ushers you to return to his arms with a laugh. And when you settle on his shoulder, he tells you to continue which you find a hard time answering.

“I want the theme to be… celestial. I don’t know. I’ve always liked the stars and the moons, you know that, right? I definitely don’t want it to be an outdoor wedding. Hmmm…”

“Tell you what,” he cuts your musing. “Tell me everytime it comes up in your head?”

“Everytime?”

“Everytime.”

You grin at him playfully, settling inside the blanket to ready yourself for bed now that you don’t have to talk about your dream wedding anymore. You were actually excited to talk about it with Wonwoo of all people, and you were a little afraid if you don’t talk about it now, the topic wouldn’t come up again and you’d miss an opportunity to talk about it with him.

“Don’t complain once I do that everytime, mister.” You playfully wiggle your finger at him.

“I will never.” He smiles, and your heart melts once again and you didn’t even know it was still possible for you to fall for his smile when you see it everyday. “Now go to bed and have a good night, okay?”

“Alright. Night, Won.”

You dream of a wedding beneath the moonlight with no one but you and him.

[✾✾✾]

[sent a picture]

Soooo pretty right? But it- still a little outdoory for me

Won🤍: How is it not gonna be outdoor-y if it's a glass house, princess?

Shut up

You told me to tell you everytime!!!

I didnt do this so u would get smart w me😠

Won🤍: Alright, alright. Sorry.

Won🤍: So which part of it did you like?

All the flowers and the glass ceiling 🥹

Just look at them ugh

[✾✾✾]

“Hey. Sorry, I was in a meeting.” Wonwoo calls you back immediately after he got back to his office, noticing a miss call from you and a text with a single picture attached with no other message. “Anything happened?”

“Ooh, the one with SVT Inc.?” You recall him telling you last night. “How did it go?”

“It went better than I expected. I'll tell you at home. What's up?”

You hum from the other side of the call before answering. “Umm. I was trying this new fine dining with Chaeyoung and their table decorations are to die for. Like. For real.”

“Yeah?” Wonwoo smiles, already knowing where this is going. “Tell me about it.”

The both of you know Wonwoo is bad when it comes to design; that you could be explaining things in the easiest way possible for people to imagine and Wonwoo would still not get it unless you show him a picture, which you did. Still, he doesn't actually have the eyes for them and he couldn't really tell what matches with what and what do you exactly mean by “the colors seamlessly blending with each other”. 

But you like talking to Wonwoo and Wonwoo likes listening to you, so the conversation goes.

“Anyway, I just wanna say how pretty it was.” You conclude almost sheepishly. “But you told me to tell you everytime!!”

“I did.” He laughs through the phone, his posture relaxes more and more the longer he talks to you. It's almost like the tension from the day all dissipating into thin air just through your presence. “And I'm not complaining, am I?”

“Alright. See you at home?”

“See you at home.”

[✾✾✾]

“Oh my… look at that.” You sit up, a little in awe at the scene in front of you. You and Wonwoo are watching a movie together, some random movie on Netflix that you don't even remember the title of. But a wedding scene is playing out and you can't help but gasp at the beauty of it all. It's not entirely possible for an actual event to look like that, it's not practical and it's really just pretty.

Wonwoo hums and proceeds to do the same thing he always does, asks about which part you prefer from this wedding scene and listens to you talk about the technicality of it all and the details that you loved on the scene in front of you.

He never cuts you off as you talk about everything at once, and only comments once you pause or when you ask for his opinion. You don't mind this, because you know his silence doesn't mean he's not paying attention.

“Huh.” You suddenly stop mid sentence and turn to Wonwoo with furrowed brows, and he tilts his head in confusion. “What's your dream wedding?”

Wonwoo blinks, never expecting this question. He ponders for a few seconds as you wait patiently, now leaning on the sofa and never taking your eyes off him.

Your eyes are full of anticipation as he finally looks up and smiles at you, his arm moves from his lap to your shoulder and pulls you close to plant a quick kiss on your lips.

“With you as the bride.”

You’ve never cried faster in your life before.

[✾✾✾]

The wedding is in three months and, decoration wise, everything is almost settled.

“What do you think about this?”

“Hmmh. I like them. But would you mind changing the shade of the tablecloths to a slightly darker one? It would fit better with the overall ambiance of the hall decorations.”

“Of course!” Your mom happily agrees, her assistant taking notes of everything next to her. Mrs. Jeon agrees too, and you think they are just content with the fact that you have an opinion you don't mind sharing. It's always like this everytime you open your mouth and ask if it's okay to change some things, they would just agree without much fight and proceed with your opinions.

You think it's probably their way of compensating, still feeling bad for not being able to give you your dream wedding even though they've toned down on the apologetic look, which you greatly appreciate. On the contrary, they look more energetic these days, which you might guess has to do with the fact that the wedding is so close by at this point.

“What are you doing after this?” You ask once the discussion ends, your mom's assistant already back to her office.

“We want to try this new tea shop in Gangnam, actually. Want to join us?” 

“Oh, the one Mrs. Song has just opened?”

“Yeah. She's been asking me to go but I didn't have the time. So I thought I'd just go with Mrs. Jeon here.”

“I see. Do you have time for dinner with me and Wonwoo after that?”

“Of course!” Your mom says a little too quickly, in which you share a look with Mrs. Jeon and laugh at her embarrassed expression. It's then that you realize you've never really invited her to meals and have only shared meals together when it's a formal occasion or when you're over at the family house.

It's sad, if you really think about it. But you've decided not to dwell on your past relationship with your parents anymore. It won't do you any good, and now that you know what to do, that's more than enough.

“Give me or Wonwoo a call when you're done?”

“Sure thing, dear. We'll see you at dinner?”

“Do invite Father & Uncle if they're available, we don't mind.”

Your mom looks like she's about to cry at this point, another thing you still have no idea how to react to. Though you awkwardly smile at Mrs. Jeon and quietly ask for help with your eyes yet again. And as always, she comes to the rescue, taking your mom by the arm and tells you goodbye before she actually cries.

It's hours later that you see her and Mrs. Jeon again in a Japanese restaurant, a craving you've been having since last week. You and Wonwoo arrive first, your mothers not long after.

“Feels like I haven't seen you in so long, son.” His mom greets him as she sits down on the seat opposite of her son. “Drop by the house soon?”

“It’s been busy, sorry. But I’ll make sure to drop by, Mom.” He nods to your mom in greeting, then asks them about what they were doing prior and if they had fun.

“Yeah, how was the tea shop?” You join in, dropping the menu on the table now that you've decided what to order.

“It was better than I expected.” Your mom starts. “You should go some time and try their scones. You like them, don't you?”

You actually do. And you think that's the first time your mom ever says something like this to you and gets it right. A lot of firsts today, but you're accepting them with open arms and refuse to think about them too much.

“I will, mom.” You smile. “Father and Mr. Jeon couldn't make it?”

Your mom nods with a sorry smile, and you shrug before you tell them not to worry about it. After you order, the wedding talk starts once again, this time about the cake and menu, as you wait for the food to come.

As usual, Wonwoo listens and doesn't talk much, because he's gotten a lot of updates from you already and has pretty much told you about his preferences if any.

“You'll both be present for the cake tasting next week, right?”

“Yes, Mom, don't worry. I'll actually be there for once.” He grins cheekily. “We actually invited you for dinner because of that: to thank you for taking care of our wedding. It must’ve taken a lot of your time and energy.”

“Yes, I’m sorry we couldn’t really participate more and if you feel like we’re making you do everything, but we’re really thankful you’re doing all of this.” You add.

“Nonsense. We’re happy to do it for you guys. Don’t be sorry, alright? We’re the ones who are sorry we couldn’t make it your dream wedding but–”

You whine, something that your mom hasn’t really seen a lot of, and she smiles to herself at that, a reminder of how you used to be as a kid and the times she missed as you grow up.

“Stop it, Mom. I told you it’s okay. I’m already beyond grateful that you’re doing all the wedding prep, asking for my dream wedding is just too much. Please, stop feeling guilty. I'm not that spoiled, I promise you.”

Knowing you’d rather change the topic, Mrs. Jeon turns to her son. “You should've stopped by every now and then, too. Why would you make your fiancée do everything?”

“She knows what I like, Mom.” He nudges you softly, to which both mom laughs. “She knows what I want for our wedding.”

With you as the bride.

The words ring once again in your head, and you bite your lip to contain the stupid smile threatening to bloom. How can he still make your heart flutter like never before after all this time? You look down to your phone to hide your smile, pretending to answer messages you don’t really care about. 

“By the way, about what you asked for yesterday…”

Wonwoo looks at both women wide-eyed and shakes his head just enough time for you not to notice.

“Huh? You asked Auntie for something?” You try to rejoin the conversation, putting your phone back into your purse. 

“Yeah. Remember that meat pie Mom used to make when we were in university? I was just craving for them.” He makes up something on the spot, which his mom nods at, adding that she's making sure if it's okay to make them next week.

“Ooooh! Yeah I remember them! Gosh, now that you say it, it's been long since we had them, huh? Why didn't you tell me you asked Auntie for some?”

“Must've passed my mind.” He smiles sheepishly, glancing at the women across him sharing a quiet laugh. Just in time, the beverage you order comes in and the topic stops there and moves to another thing.

Blissfully unaware, you miss the knowing glances shared between the three parties of the table, too busy raving on the pretty cocktails they're serving you.

[✾✾✾]

“Do you want to come to my wedding dress fitting?” You ask one night in the middle of your skin care routine, Wonwoo scrolling on his phone on his bed.

“Isn't that a thing? Not to let the groom see their bride on the wedding dress?”

A sudden silence blankets the room, and you two stare at each other like some kind of realization hits at the same time. That you’re really getting married to each other.

That you’re his bride and he’s your groom.

Wonwoo jumps in panic when he sees you tear up, but you cover your face in embarrassment and tell him to go away instead. Wonwoo laughs as he relaxes, though he engulfs you in a hug despite your whine. Your arms hug him back though, and you tighten your arms like he’d let go.

“We’re really getting married, huh?” He whispers against your head, to which you nod and sniffle at, still trying to calm yourself down. “I can’t believe it.”

“Yeah. We’re really getting married, aren’t we?”

“Getting cold feet?” He asks jokingly, but your answer is short and firm, making his heart beats louder than he thinks possible.

“Never.”

You stay like that for a bit, until it occurs to you that Wonwoo hasn’t replied to your question so you ask him again.

“I’ll pass.” He decides, wanting to spare himself the heart attack he would get seeing you in a wedding dress. There’s a chance he would faint anyway, but he’d rather not have several fainting episodes before the wedding. “You can send me pictures if you want? Or I don’t mind being surprised too, whatever you feel like at the time, okay?”

“Hmmmkay. I’ll see when it happens then.”

“You’re going to do a fitting for the cocktail dress too, right? Did you say Jennie helped with the designs for that?”

“Yeah. Mr. Jang and Jennie collaborated for the cocktail dress, I think they made two or three even though I told them one would be enough. But, well, I can always use the cocktail dress for other functions so it’s okay.”

“You’re most excited about this, aren’t you?”

You nod happily, finally getting out of his hold to grin at him. Your eyes are twinkling like a child in a toyshop. “You know I love my dresses. Jennie showed me some of the final sketches before, and apparently they’re almost done, just need to make sure that my size hasn’t changed. But she wouldn’t let me see the dresses because she wants me to just see it with my own eyes.”

His phone pings, which cues him to let go of you to let you finish your skin care routine then checks his notifications, pressing his lips together to hide his smile.

Park Chaeyoung : One is enough right???

Park Chaeyoung : How can I convince her though?  

Just discuss with Jennie and Mr. Jang. They probably knew which one would look best on her, too. 

Also, you’re her closest friend. You would know, I’m sure.

Park Chaeyoung : I hate you😭😭😭

Park Chaeyoung : This is too much of a responsibility!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You know it’s for her, though.

Park Chaeyoung : I still hate you

Park Chaeyoung : Be thankful I know how much she loves you!!

Thanks.

By the way, the YSL bag that  you said was out of stock in every store in the country is being delivered to your place. Mr. Lee is delivering it to you himself, so let him up.

Park Chaeyoung : Perhaps I like you a little 

[✾✾✾]

Yoon Jeonghan : were all ready on my side

Joshua Hong : im abt 95% done!!! 

Joshua Hong : so all shud be ok and finish on time

Thanks guys.

You've worked hard.

Would it be okay for me to go and check a day before?

Joshua Hong : sure!!!!

Yoon Jeonghan : just say when you go

Yoon Jeonghan : ill drag her smwhere so she wont get suspicious

[✾✾✾]

Kwon Soonyoung sent a picture

Kwon Soonyoung : this ok?

Great.

Send your sister my greetings. 

[✾✾✾]

Kim Jennie : Oh. You're so going to die ;)

???????????????

[✾✾✾]

“Everyone's so busy these days…” You complain over lunch, eating take outs in Wonwoo's office after his meeting because you're craving for some katsu place nearby. “You're busy. Chaeng’s busy. Jeonghan's busy. Shua's busy. Even Soonyoung is busy. What are you all even up to?”

He tenses a little, then apologizes and says perhaps it's just that time of the year. The year is about to end, and even though it's still the middle of October, things are already picking up. Plus, with Young Master Jeon and Young Miss Yoon getting married by the end of November, Wonwoo’s company and Shua's studio are trying their best to wrap as many things as possible before you and Wonwoo leave for honeymoon.

“You know what this reminds me of?”

“What?” He indulges you.

“That time when everyone's busy and only Soonyoung was possible.” That feels like a long time ago now, something that you both can look back and laugh at even though it hurt before. “You were babysitting Jennie.”

“And you fainted because I took my eyes away from you for like three seconds.”

“Stop exaggerating.”

“And now you're all buddy buddy with her.”

“Shut up.”

He laughs and you join soon after, the rest of your meal flows in the blink of an eye. Time works in a funny way when you're with him, and you wonder if it'll change once you get officially married despite all the time you already spend with him.

“The wedding is already next month, isn't it?”

“I know, right? Felt like it was just yesterday I proposed to you.”

Wonwoo pauses, and you look at him in question as he stares at you in silence.

“Did you know I cried that night?”

“...what?”

“Yeah.” He smiles to himself, putting down his chopsticks and replays that night once again in his head. He doesn't think he'd ever forget the way you look and the way you ask him that question. He's pretty sure sometimes he still dreams of you asking that, over and over again like a broken player that he doesn't want to get fixed. “After you fell asleep. I cried for a bit in the bathroom just in case you woke up.”

It's weird what goes over you upon the confession. Wonwoo doesn't cry easily, and even though you've seen him cry three or four times before, you've never thought he'd ever cry because of you. Knowing that he has… You can't even think of teasing him for it, your heart filling with love beyond its size upon realizing someone out there really loves you to the point of crying because you ask them to spend forever with you.

“Thank you for telling me.” You say, surprising him. “You already know I cried when you proposed even though I knew it was happening.”

“I heard you cried when you're trying out your wedding dress?”

“Who betrayed me?”

Wonwoo laughs at this, but tells you he's not naming anyone and he's definitely not teasing you about it.

“I will probably be crying too when I finally see you in the wedding dress.” He says easily, making your heart skip yet another beat at how effortlessly he spews those words.

Fuck Jeon Wonwoo.

[✾✾✾]

There's a party you're attending tonight. Jennie said it's some kind of party that she's hosting to celebrate her last line of designs before her expected return to Ruby Corp.

She has told you to wear one of the cocktail dresses you tried the other day: the white one that stops right above your knees. You love every detail of it: from the subtle way silver stars and moons decorate the seam of the dress, to the lace that is just enough without making it look tacky.

It accentuates your body in all the right ways, but if you look at it long enough, it looks somewhat like a mini wedding dress, which is why you decided against wearing it to the after party because you don't want both your dresses to be white. You’re not sure if it’s really okay to wear it before your wedding considering how much it resembles one, but Chaeyoung’s insistence and Jennie’s confirmation convinces you because you actually love it the most out of the other dresses, which is why you're kind of excited when Jennie told you it’s really okay to wear that one.

She has told you to get your makeup done at the salon, too, because she's invited a lot of media and she tells you it's okay to do a more glamorous makeup than what you're used to. You still want a natural one, but Chaeyoung once again convinces you to do more and you give in because she looks way too excited for some reason.

Currently at the salon with her, you've decided to try one of the hairstyles you want for your wedding. It's something you still haven't decided, but your wedding is in two weeks, and you suppose it wouldn't hurt to try out some of the simple hairstyles you're considering.

Your hair is styled to beautiful curls, half of your hair is up in a bun that's sprinkled with star accessories, making it look like there are stars scattered on your bun. Chaeyoung takes a picture of it and shows you, to which you squeal at because it's simply too cute.

Despite how much you like how you look, you feel a little over the top. But Chaeyoung reminds you it's a fashion party so there would probably be people who dress way more excessively and you're completely fine.

“Wonwoo's not answering my texts at all. Wonder if he's okay…” you frown at your phone, your text from this morning left unread and unanswered.

Chaeyoung hums, not seemingly bothered by your concern.

“Maybe he's just busy. Your wedding is in two weeks and you're leaving for honeymoon almost immediately.  He's probably making sure he won't be bothered during then.” Her answer is a little too perfect to the point where you might consider it scripted, but you're a little too concerned about Wonwoo to think about it and you quietly agree with her despite how you feel.

“I haven't been able to reach Han and Shua either…”

“Looking for me?” A familiar voice greets you and you wave at Joshua who's already dressed for the party. “Sorry, got classes all day.”

“‘Skay. Where's Han?”

“I think he's in a meeting with your father. Something about a merger?”

“Huh…” You frown, trying to remember if there's any talk about a merger that you've heard before. But, then again, you haven't been involved in the company for about two years now, you're not always updated and it might even be about some sub company that you don't know existed. “Makes sense. Why are you here?”

“Jeonghan will be late to the party so I thought I'll drive with you.” He grins. “I don't want to arrive there alone.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“Seungcheol.”

“Of course.” You should've known, really. Seungcheol never fails to report to Wonwoo, Jeonghan, or Shua everytime they ask your whereabouts. “Why are you dressed like that? It's a fashion party, dude.”

“Heh.” He shrugs, not minding the way you frown at his suit, definitely too formal for Jennie's party. “I got too busy and didn't have time to look for a fashionable outfit.”

“You still have time to change.” You try to convince him, not wanting him to embarrass himself there. “We'll probably be done in thirty minutes.”

It's then that Joshua takes a good look at you, looking at you from head to toe as his eyes water a little, which he blinks away quickly before you even notice.

“You're beautiful.” He says, startling you at the sudden honesty.

He's looking at you so softly that you're a little unsure how to respond to that, so you take the easy way and joke it away.

“Thanks. Wait until you see me at my wedding.”

This seems to make him smile even wider, and he carefully pats your head before telling you he'd wait around and he's too bothered to change so you don't have to worry.

Exactly thirty minutes later, you're on your way to the venue with Chaeyoung and Joshua. You're still trying to reach Wonwoo, but your call wouldn't go through and your text is still unanswered. You tried texting Chan, but he simply tells you his boss is busy and hasn't been able to check his phone, that he'll remind him to text you once he's able to.

That's enough to tame down your worry a little, and remembering you have a party to go to, you decide to let go of it and try to get in the mood. Good thing you have Chaeyoung and Joshua with you.

The three of you arrive in front of the building about forty minutes later, and you wonder why it's a little too quiet remembering how much of a fuss Jennie made it to be. But perhaps it's because you're still in the lobby; the party is on the top floor, after all.

Once you get to the very top level and you get off the elevator, it's still very much quiet, which makes you a little suspicious. But there's no reason for you to be suspicious of Jennie, so you ask instead if you're at the right place.

Just as they're about to answer, the lights go off and you jump at the pitch dark you suddenly find yourself in. You call for your companies and try to reach for them, but they're nowhere and you start to panic when something soft drapes over your eyes.

It's a blindfold, you register. A silk one by the feel of it, but that's not important because why are you blindfolded and you're trying to fight whoever's behind you.

��Trust me, okay?” Joshua’s comforting voice echoes against the empty corridor, and you relax a little as thousand different scenarios enter your mind. If there’s anyone you can trust, it’s Joshua, so when you feel his hand clasping yours and he leads you forward with Chaeyoung following close behind, you walk despite the way your heart is beating a million beats per second.

But when you hear the door open and close again, dark still engulfing you even after Joshua says you're allowed to take it off, what you find in front of your eyes once the light goes back on is beyond your imagination. 

You see Wonwoo on the other side of the aisle, presumably smiling at you even though you can't really tell due to your vision getting blurry.

You take your time to look around the room, a glass ceiling displaying the night sky with the  moon right above you, there are roughly only six tables in the beautiful room, decorated by your favorite flowers, your favorite color scheme, and every single thing you've mentioned to Wonwoo all that time. Somehow, even the stars are more visible than they have ever been.

“Princess?” You register your father's voice, his arm slightly open for you to take, and you don’t remember the last time his eyes stared at you with such gentleness. “Let's go. Wonwoo is waiting.”

You nod despite your unshed tears and your confusion, and as you walk down the short aisle and get to the end of it, you spare a few seconds to look at who's present. And upon realizing that they're all the people that are dear to you and Wonwoo, your eyes tear up once again at the realization of what's really happening.

“I told you I would do everything for you, right?” He whispers as you meet his eyes, trying his best to keep it together because, fuck, you look so beautiful it doesn't make sense. “I hope this is how you imagined your dream wedding to be.”

Before you can answer, the officiant, Yoon Jeonghan, cuts you off and proceeds to start the wedding ceremony. You can't even concentrate on anything, only focusing on Wonwoo and everything he's done for you.

Your brain is starting to put pieces together: the dress Jennie made you, the way your mothers seem less guilty, everyone being busy–how did he convince everyone to do this for you when they're all busy as hell?

Wonwoo starts his wedding vow, and you realize you'd have to do it too but you don't have anything prepared because you literally didn't know it was happening. You considered using the vow you're planning to use on your… well… wedding day, but you think that might not be fitting for this special day. 

Your day.

“First of all. Thank you to all of you here who have scammed me and betrayed me by helping Wonwoo.” You pretend to glare at them, to which they all laugh to because despite your words, you look the happiest they've ever seen you be. You’re glowing, despite the tears that are threatening to fall and the way you’re trying your best to hold back a sob. “I… I'll save the lengthy vow for the wedding in two weeks and I'll make this quick. I've gathered that a lot of you probably helped Wonwoo in this, and I want to thank you for all the time and effort you've put into this–and even somehow hiding it from me to the point where it didn't even occur to me to be suspicious of any of you. I've always wanted my wedding to be a small one shared by the people who matter, like all of you here, and to know that everyone of you are involved somehow… thanks for making anyone who might surprise me in the future fall short to this. And to Wonwoo…”

You finally look at him in the eye, both your eyes tearing up as you share a moment between you two. You try to calm yourself down, and you grip his hands harder before you sob right then and there.

“Thank you for making my dream come true. You should know that as long as it's with you, it's my dream wedding already.”

Jeonghan takes the cue to announce you as husband and wife, and as your lips meet under the night sky, you could've sworn the moon has never looked so bright before tonight.

[✾✾✾]

✾BONUS✾

“You look so beautiful, dear.” Mrs. Jeon softly dabs her eyes with tissue to stop her tears from falling down.

“Thank you so much Aun–uh…” You pause mid sentence only now realizing she's no longer just Auntie for you. “Mom…?”

She cries when you call her that, and Mr. Jeon laughs at how dramatic his wife is being, though he officially welcomes you to the family as he tries to calm her down.

“Wonwoo made you both work overtime, huh?” You joke, but your mom shakes her head and mentions they volunteered for it when he brought up the idea. Your fingers, clasped around Wonwoo's, tighten, and his thumb caresses your knuckle as if reminding you to calm down. “Thank you so… so much. Wonwoo couldn't have done it without you guys.”

“I know. My son sucks at making events.” Mrs. Jeon adds, already calmed down. “But at least he has the head to think about this.”

“Alright, Mom. Thanks for your compliment.” He rolls his eyes in a joking manner, though he drops a kiss on her cheek and sincerely thanks your mom too for making the ceremony possible. “And thank you… uhh…”

You giggle at the same predicament Wonwoo finds himself in, but surprisingly it's your father who speaks up. 

“You're our son, now. Call us Mom and Dad, Mother and Father, whichever you prefer.” He offers a small smile, which startles you because you did not expect this at all. You know he's happy you're getting married to the Jeons, but there's another kind of happiness in his eyes that you haven't seen in a really long time. “You've always taken care of our daughter, even when we're not able to. Continue to do it, alright? I'm glad she has you in her life.”

Wonwoo hides his smile and excuses the both of you to greet the other tables, and when you come to Shua, Jeonghan, Jinyoung, Jisoo, Jennie, Chaeyoung, and Soonyoung's table, you finally burst into tears even though you meant to pretend to be angry at them for deceiving you.

You blink repeatedly in hope your tears would vanish behind your eyes, but it's hard to do that when it's your father saying this. It's a confession you did not expect happening, but a part of you is relieved it did, and when your father pats your cheek and tells you not to cry, you nod despite the tears pooling in your eyes.

"Yes, Father. I'm glad I have her in my life, too."

Jinyoung and Jeonghan laugh, but the rest of the table panics and even the other tables are amused at your sudden emotional episode,  nothing but adoration filling their eyes.

“How–how could you guys do this to me?!” You say between sobs, Wonwoo grinning sheepishly to anyone whose eyes he meets on apology even though he knows no one actually minds.

“How dare you guys not say a thing!”

“We made sure you look your best, though.” Chaeyoung squeaks, to which you glare at before you break away from Wonwoo and engulf her in a hug. Then Chaeyoung starts crying too, and soon so are Jennie and Jisoo, and even Lisa and a few members of the studio who you've gotten very close with start crying on their table.

“I love you so much.” She whispers as she hugs you tighter. “I'm happy you found each other even though you've known each other since forever.”

“I love you too.” You kiss her cheek, careful not to ruin her makeup and yours. “Thank you for making sure I look my best on my wedding that I wasn't aware was happening.”

You look up to the rest of the table, take turns to hug each and everyone of them because all of them are apparently in on it; Chaeyoung and Jisoo with the overall preparation, Jennie with the dress, Soonyoung with the catering, Jeonghan with the venue, and Joshua with the flowers.

“You don't deserve a hug because you didn't help but I will hug you because of Jisoo.” You narrow your eyes at Jinyoung.

“Hey! Who do you think helped your little husband here and convince him it's okay to do all this?” He teases you both and drops a quick kiss on your head.

Husband.

You look at Wonwoo, who seems to be stuck in the same word as you do. You share a look, and then smile at the same time and Wonwoo squeezes your hand until Jeonghan puts a stop to the serene moment and breaks it up.

“”Kay. That's enough. You both are too sappy. Let's move on to the first dance.” He shoos you both to the dance floor, and you laugh through your tears as Wonwoo takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor, right in the middle of the room beneath the night sky.

You look up once again, the moon exactly above you and him as you move together with the music. Your eyes are glassy the moment you find Wonwoo's which are also glassy, you don't try to hide your smile though, and you share that moment between you two, uncaring about the rest of the guests staring at you two.

Wonwoo leans down to kiss you square on the lips, and you press your lips back to his, the both of you smiling into the kiss.

“Hey, husband.” You whisper with a giggle, still shy with the title.

“Hey, wife.” He bumps his forehead into yours. “The moon is very beautiful tonight, isn't it?”

“Yeah.” You agree, your thumb caresses the apple of his cheek. “The moon is indeed very beautiful tonight."

[✾✾✾]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don't allow any translations or reposting of my works.

A/N: happy new year! idk if i'll be writing a lot this year but we'll see ig? i didnt think this would reach more than 5k lol. do talk to me if you enjoy this <3

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

HAUNTED

Pairing.| Jackson Ripnner x fem!reader

Summary.| The way you haunt Jackson’s body, mind and soul always fuels him with adrenaline to show you who you belong to.

Warnings.| p in v, 69, rough sex.

Word Count.| 3k

Notes.| Inspired by Haunted by Beyonce. Also, this isn't noncon or dubcon, wild. I can't stop writing for Jackson even if I wanted to, sorry.

When you laid eyes on him, your heart skipped a beat and cheeks automatically turned a shade darker. Even though you knew he would be here, the proof being the combination of his captivating blue eyes and shaggy brunette hair set your sensations ablaze. Even though he was sitting across the room, legs spread on the bar stool, Jackson had no shame in watching you. He always wanted to be seen by you. His typical, simple matching black trousers and jacket, with a white shirt poking out underneath always did wonders on you. 

The man with his arm draped around you would be dead on the spot if he went any further. But the idea of seeing how far Jackson would go for you certainly felt tempting after how many glasses of champagne you’ve already consumed this evening. Even though he kept his appearances composed, you just knew he was a unhinged maniac when fueled by desire. 

You continued on with your night, engaging in conversation with a small group of friends of yours. There was no rush, you were staying at the hotel the venue was in. You enjoyed your night, more importantly you enjoyed the set of eyes that burnt through the back of your skull. As you took your last sip and straightened out your silk red dress, you farewelled to your friends and departed without another word. 

He had disappeared from the bar now, a knowing smirk grew on your lips. The both of you managed to travel often, for distinctively different reasons, but you just knew he wouldn’t not appear in Paris, the city of love.

When you entered the elevator, you didn’t acknowledge how Jackson was already in there, all leant up in the corner as his eyes nibbled on every bare inch of your skin. The silence was loud, tension almost piercing. It was a shock that neither one of you pounced onto the other like a starved tiger. You can’t say that it hadn’t happened before. 

You sway down the hallway. There was no discretion, he was following behind you as if you were dating. As you opened your room door, you kept the door open with your fingertips only for a second before he caught the heavy wood from locking him out.

Before you could even place down your glitter purse, Jackson slammed your front to the wall, his body pressed against you in a hungry manner as he inhaled your sweet scent. He was completely obsessed with how rough he could be with you. Never once had you complained, whined, acted like a little brat. You were his good girl despite your confident front. 

“I warned you not to fall in love with me” you chuckled, cherry lipstick smudging against the plaster. His rough hands gripped onto your hips.  

“What makes you think I’d do such a silly thing?” Jackson chuckled back.

“You came, did you not?” You remarked confidently. 

Jackson snickered softly and pressed his lips to your warm cheek as his hands massaged your ass. It was without question how your back was arched and your neck craned back. As he nuzzled the side of your face with his nose, he breathed out. 

“You send an invite in the mail or something?” Jackson teased quietly. 

“I know you stalk me, watch my every move practically” you stated, in almost a tone of pride.

“It’s hard not to” Jackson admitted shamelessly.

You were in his dreams every night. Haunting him with the thought of your touch. Every night he couldn’t fall asleep quick enough to feel you, relive your perfect moments together. Everytime he woke up, he initially believed he could feel you in the sheets. It was a major distraction at work, he couldn’t lie. Yet you were motivating him to get the job done so he could find his way back to you. 

“Did you miss me?” You asked flirtatiously as he led you to the white king sized bed. 

“I’m here, aint I?” Jackson replied bluntly as he slid off his jacket. 

You fell onto the bed and smiled. His denial of emotions and vulnerability was always cute. You haunted him in that way, the idea of wanting to be welcomed angered him. The misogynistic front always leaked his desperate need for comfort and warmth. You were certain that if you were to disappear from the face of the earth, he’d be driven into an emotional insanity whilst looking for you until the day he died. 

“You haven’t cashed in any of my checks yet” Jackson almost snorted as he unbuttoned his shirt. 

“I don’t need your money Jackson” you sighed as you bent over to unlatch your heels. 

However, he stopped you by dropping to his knees. As he smiled to you softly, he unbuckled the thin straps and slipped off your shoes. All whilst making sure to have his fingers brush against your skin. He slipped off his own shoes

“Don’t say something cheesy like I just need you” Jackson chuckled, his eyes swiftly snapped up to catch your initial reaction. 

“Never” you grinned. 

“Good” Jackson nodded, a satisfied look on his lips. 

Within a snap, Jackson had pounced on top of you, pinning you effortlessly to the bed. His eyes were two tiny clouds of lust and arousal as his mouth quickly watered at the idea of tasting you. Roughly, he took your face in one hand, moving you around from side to side just because he could. 

Jackson’s back arched as he lowered his body to you. A mixture of passion and viciousness erupted through your kiss. You tugged off his shirt and ran your acrylic nails up and down his firm back in a teasing manner. Shamelessly, he enjoyed it when you drew blood.  

“Well, I have some time off work and-” 

“What do you do for work by the way?” You cut him off accidentally, curiosity jumped in front of your manners. 

You knew he did nothing good. That sweet face could fool many women, but not you. The moment you saw him, you knew he was a bad man. Most of the time you steered clear. But that face felt worth the risk. The city light night ride of adrenaline, thrill, anticipation and sensation was more addictive than any drug that you have ever taken. 

“I’d say finance but I don’t want to lie to you” Jackson answered, a mischief grin on his lips. 

“I’m fine with that” you smiled. 

“Anyways, before you rudely interrupted me. I was thinking of stealing you away” Jackson made known, his hands roamed over your neck until he found the latch to your glitter collar. 

“For how long?” you hummed, eyes lighting up with excitement of disappearing with him for a while. 

“Until I’m satisfied enough to be able to watch you leave” Jackson murmured as he threw your jewelry off of the bed.

Eagerly and desperately, Jackson sucked at your bare neck. It always looked like a piece of art when you’d wake up with love bites all over your skin. You moaned out, your hands reached his coarse hair and typically you found yourself tugging at his roots. 

“I don’t want to go anywhere that I’ve been before” you answered softly. 

“But I thought that you love the north of Italy” he snickered. 

“Never told you that” you said bluntly. 

“I know” Jackson replied with the same tone. “Alright, how about the south of France since we’re already here?” Jackson suggested, his sneaky hands were sliding your spaghetti straps off without you even realizing. 

“Been there” you clicked your tongue. 

“I’m almost certain you haven’t been where I have been” Jackson shot back, a confident look locked on. 

“You take all of your girls there?” You raised an eyebrow at him. 

Jackson stilled momentarily whilst poking his tongue in his cheek in defeat. You smiled with boldness. As he gently rubbed your cheek, Jackson chuckled at you.     

“Touche” he replied quietly. 

Jackson hummed dramatically whilst he scrunched up your dress from the bottom. As you lifted your upper body from the mattress enough for him to slip off your dress, Jackson swore he could have finished on the spot at the remembrance of your beauty. He found it so hard to believe. For he was always certain he knew your body perfectly. Yet, with every counter, your beauty has found a new way to evolve. 

“What about the Virgin Islands?” Jackson proposed, his hands massaged your soft naked breasts. 

“Been there” you sighed heavily in disappointment, maybe he wasn’t as obsessed with you as you believed. 

“I’m talking about the British, not the U.S. sweetheart” Jackson snorted lightly. 

Your eyes lit with interest. Sure, you’ll give him that one. The last time you were there was as a teenager. Even though it was already definite, you were sure that it would be a trip to remember. Not that you predicted you’d really be doing anything besides having Jackson’s cock deep inside of you. 

“I’m intrigued” you agreed. 

“Good, we’ll leave tomorrow” Jackson finalized as he leant up, legs still straddling your hips. 

“Tomorrow? Come on baby, let’s enjoy the city of love first” you teased, your hand shot up to stroke the section of his belly right above the massive bulge in his pants. 

“Suppose we could spend a couple of days here… But I warn you, you’ll be tied to the bed for most of it” Jackson nodded his head as he slipped his belt out from the loops of his pants. 

“I like that idea” you murmured.

As he fell back over you, the belt smacked onto the mattress right besides your head. Oh how largely he smirked by your nonexistent flinch. You were fucking crazy, but he had you on a leash. Yet most of the time he didn’t even feel the need to hold onto it, because he knew you’d always obey.

His intimidating stare meant nothing to you. For everyone else, it was always a power play. But you knew for you it was just foreplay. Jackson could never hurt you, unless you wanted it. Fortunately enough for him, you did, a lot. 

Jackson ordered for you to put your hands together, which you did with no hesitation. Once your wrists were bound together, you rested them over your chest. A series of heavy breaths left his lips, he always felt like a wild beast when he saw you tied up in any way. 

“I want to feel your mouth, Jackson” you whispered seductively. 

“Funny, I wanted your mouth on me too” Jackson exhaled as he sat beside you to slide off his trousers. 

“We could make that work” you giggled as your knees raised up. After a squeeze of satisfaction to his bulge, Jackson pulled down his briefs and tossed them off the bed. 

You’re pulled flat on your back directly in the middle of the bed. The sixty-nine position was always funny with Jackson. His ego demanded that he remained on top, always. The tip of his cock teased your mouth, you eagerly tried to eat him up but you couldn’t whip your tongue around him quick enough. 

When Jackson finished his little teasing game, he lined up his length to your mouth and you quickly pushed up a few inches deep. His cock was a fucking masterpiece. The perfect length and girth to spark every nerve in your body. It would be more addictive than a drug at this point. You always wanted his cock hidden inside of you. 

You became so focused on sucking his cock that you didn’t even realize that he hadn’t even touched your dripping cunt yet. Your legs squirmed from side to side, eyes rolled all the way back through a paralysis of pleasure. Jackson tugged your soaked thong to your knees as his hips rocked in a graceful pace. 

“Always take my cock so fucking well” Jackson praised through a grunt, his fingers rolled over your sensitive folds, which made you yelp around his size. 

Jackson chuckled before he latched his mouth onto your outer entrance. Always tasted so fucking sweet, like a rich chocolate cake topped with whipped cream. His tongue poked out into your warmth, it always felt so cold at first. Jackson’s tongue game was always sinister, you had worn that he had cracked the code to cheat at the game. For that cannot possibly be taught and no one’s amateur skills are that good. 

Typically, you came quickly around Jackson’s mouth. He lapped up every drip of your orgasm as you surfed the tidal wave of pleasure. The muffled moans always sent bone trembling vibrations around Jackson’s body. 

As your body slumped into a post orgasm bliss, Jackson pulled his cock out of your mouth. Through your heavy, long blinks, you found your back sunken into the mattress, hips lifted from the surface with your knees almost pressed above your shoulders. 

Easily, Jackson slipped his cock deep inside your warmth, he groaned out loudly, swearing underneath his breath. Your cunt truly was paradise. The solution to all of his issues was right here, inside of you. Jackson was convinced your pussy was perfectly designed for him. For your walls wrapped around his length at the perfect tightness, slick coated him so sensually. 

His sweet words snapped you out of your sexually peaceful state. “Such a good girl for me always. Aren’t you my love?” Jackson asked, in a heavy condescending tone as he snapped his hips in and out of you. 

My love, the closest thing to a love confession you may ever be able to rip out of him. Oh, how obsessively you loved him, There was nothing more that you craved than him, he was always on your mind. You’d do anything for him, even if it was a vague idea from him. 

You tried to reach up to kiss him, but he shoved your head back onto the mattress. Like always, his hand slipped around your throat as he squeezed roughly. You choked out, eyes forced to swell with tears as he focused on fucking you hard. 

“Could stay buried in you for days” Jackson moaned as his balls slapped against your rear. 

“Do it then” you managed to spit out, face turning completely red. You gasped out for air as his hand retreated suddenly. 

“And you claim that I’m in love with you” Jackson mocked softly, his thrust slowed down. 

If you were to be honest, you had fallen for him after your first night together. But the implications made you believe it was a one night stand. So, you tried to continue with your fun. Unfortunately, no other guy felt the same anymore. It was draining and saddening. It felt impossible for a stranger to know your body better than you did yourself. So, when you found those blue eyes again, you knew you had to dig your nails into him (literally). 

“You are” you heaved, squinting hard as you breathed heavily through your nostrils. 

“You haunt me” Jackson answered, his hand now caressing your aching skin. 

A strong squeeze erupted around Jackson’s length which made his eyes roll back. “You haunt me” you copied, your words encouraged by nothing but honesty. 

“As I should” Jackson laughed, his thumb rubbing over your sensitive bean.

“Jackson!” you screamed out, a pleasure filled smile on your lips. 

“Who do you belong to?” Jackson asked sternly, his thrusts were slow yet hard. 

“Myself” you dared to say. 

His cock completely exited your slippery cunt to be forced back in brutally. You cried out, but he managed to hit your cervix so you felt your thighs tremble. Those bright blue eyes never felt darker as he glared into your soul. 

“Tell me, I know you haven't forgotten…” Jackson growled. 

“No” you gasped, your lips formed in a cheeky manner. 

Jackson buried himself completely inside of you, you winced from the pain of his size stretching you wide. Your lower lip trembled in pain, eyelashes battered at him whilst you rubbed your hands to his chest. He slapped you on your cheek, hard. But your velvety walls couldn’t help back to clench around him. 

“Come on, playing hard to get when I’m already balls deep?” Jackson laughed loudly, teasing you by wiggling his hips from side to side. 

“Maybe” you grunted, eyes raised to the ceiling. 

Jackson kissed the corner of your mouth. Your eyes returned focus onto him. He looked so kind, charming and compelling. Mouth ajar open, sweat filled hair parted side to side. 

“Please, my love” Jackson whispered before he kissed your lips softly. 

“Oh Jackson” you moaned out with your lips still pressed together. 

“My love…” he murmured as he nuzzled your noses together. 

“You, always you” you confessed

“Atta girl” Jackson smiled in satisfaction as his hips took off like a sprinter. 

Your walls squeezed in a faultless rhythm. The tip of his cock brushed over your cervix with each thrust. Jackson smiled softly, nodding his head in approval for you to climax yet again. You couldn’t jump off of the cliff to land into another ocean of pure sensation. 

You were so compelled by your own orgasm, that you didn’t even notice his load fill you up completely. Jackson nibbled onto your shoulder as he moaned out. Jackson’s body slumped over you, the bed completely dipped in the body as you both fell a slave to your climaxes. 

Eventually, Jackson pulled out of you and sat on the edge of the bed, his hand brushed through his damp hair. You laid exhaustively on the bed, eyes lingered over his bare pale back. With a deep inhale, Jackson stood up and looked over his shoulder. 

“Stay here, I’ll get the bath ready” he spoke softly before bee lining to the ensuite. 

As if you ever wanted to ever leave him. You watched him from the doorway, smiling like a child with an ice cream as you admired him turn on the faucet. As the steam lingered out of the ensuite, Jackson returned. Carefully, he freed your hands and carried you towards the hot bath. 

His touch, affection, possessiveness and ownership haunted you eternally, yet you never wanted to escape this nightmare.

[kaitsawamura]

-> somebody come get her (she's dancing like a stripper)

-> SUMMARY

You have bills to pay. That's the only thing on your mind when you go in for your shift at the strip club. The only thing on your mind until you see Daichi.

Daichi doesn't expect to find you, the girl of his dreams, at the strip club. In fact, he's 99% certain he shouldn't be here. But now he can't stop thinking of all the things he'd let you do to him.

Will your mutual attraction pay off for the both of you?

-> STATS

Pairing: Daichi Sawamura x Stripper!Reader (get that bread!)

Rating: M for Mature, MDNI

Warnings: My take on a corruption kink except Daichi's the one getting corrupted

Tags: Corruption, strangers to lovers, smut I tell you, filthy filthy smut with my husband, strip club au, oral (m receiving), p in v, creampie, a bit of choking (like a tiny bit), hair pulling, nasty nasty f*cking with my husband, sex in public (sorta, it's in a public restroom), a little dominant confident Reader (if I missed anything y'all can let me know in the DM's)

Word Count: 6.3K

Author's Note: I knew the moment I saw Mint's post . : HERE : . that I had to write something about it. They obligingly gave me the go ahead to be inspired so off I went a-writing. Obviously, this might be considered mild corruption by some but to me? This was like I went into a blackout and woke up not knowing what year it was. So, here you go, enjoy some nasty filthy smut with my love!

-> LINKS

Main Masterlist

HQ Masterlist

Playlist

Moodboard

“Rent’s due on Monday,” your roommate reminds you, concern masked with sympathy clear on her face. She’s not trying to be mean or overbearing but damn it, the stress of the situation makes you want to snark back. But you don’t.

“Do you have your half?” She nods. You nod back decisively. “I’m working tonight. Fridays are good days to work. It’s my first one without shadowing anyone. I’ll have the rest of my half in tips, don’t worry.” Her face brightens as she pours herself a glass of orange juice, sunlight streaming in the kitchen window of the tiny two-bedroom apartment you share with her.

“Thank god. The landlord’s being an ass again. We’ve been late one time. I have half a mind to give him a list of all the things wrong in this shithole instead of the check.” You roll your eyes conspiratorially but in reality, you don’t know if you’ll make your half in tips or not. Maybe your boss will give you an advance. You’ll talk to him tonight. He was surprisingly reasonable so the odds were at least in your favor.

Either way, you’ll get the money. You just hope you’ll be able to put the nervous energy thrumming through your veins to good use.

Daichi Sawamura should not have come here tonight. The guys in the office had convinced him, said there was a new pretty girl who was exactly his type. But this place was not the sort he was used to coming to. It wasn’t that this establishment was a bad one or that he had any problem with it; people had to make money how they could. Empowerment and autonomy and all that. It was more that he felt a little inadequate if he was being completely honest with himself. He wouldn’t know what to do with someone from here. He was used to good girls, the ones who had a routine and didn’t like anything too kinky. Which was also fine. But there were things he wanted to try, had a suspicion he would like that he just couldn’t ask of anyone he’d been with. He scrubbed a hand over his face, realizing the conversation he was having completely in his head was stressing him out.

“Dai, bro, just relax. She’s pretty. You better tip her good but you don’t have to talk to anyone but me and the bartender if you don’t want to. Just enjoy the show.” Kuroo smirks at his friend; it has been a long week. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve to wind down. Part of him just wishes he was doing it in the comfort of his home, with his favorite ramen from around the corner and a good movie. But who knows, maybe he’s getting complacent.

So he sits in the seat Kuroo has pulled out for him, a front-row spot directly in the middle of the runway. Right in front of the center pole. The seats are comfortable and he’s got a whiskey neat in his hands. He can feel a little of the stress release from the muscles in his traps, can feel his jaw unclench just in the slightest as the first warm sip of whiskey flows down his throat.

This is fine, he reassures himself, pushing work from his brain. Kuroo takes a sip from his own drink, a fruity one that he insists is the most delicious ever but is just a little too sweet for Daichi. The place is in a lull right now, preparing for the next act. But soon there’s a growing murmur from the back. Someone whistles, and a few others catcall. Daichi bristles just a bit, but he can’t even see anything until you hit the steps and it’s then that Kuroo elbows him.

“That’s her,” he says, raising his voice so Daichi can hear over the now thrumming bass. He feels it in his toes, in his chest, in his head. But your steps, the bounce of your tits in a skimpy bright blue bikini top, he feels in his dick. It barely covers anything, just like the matching bottoms. Cute little bows keep them on your hips and your heels are a deep black. As you get closer, your walk slow and sensuous, he can see the peep toe and your fresh French manicure poking through. He tries to adjust his navy suit pants with little success. He’s in so much fucking trouble.

You strut up the steps, the blinking LED strips embedded into the floor blinking in rhythm with the bass and the rhythm of your hips. You put a little bit of extra attitude into the sway tonight, praying to any higher power that will listen that tonight will be a good one for tips, even though it’s your first show without any supporting performers. Part of you gets it; you’re new. The owner has to make sure you know how to use those doe eyes and amazing tits properly. The other part of you, the one that knows you’re hot and knows exactly what you’re doing, wanted to smirk a little when your boss had said you wouldn’t get a Friday on your own until you’d completed two weeks of bartending and shadowing.

Your hard work has paid off though, and when you take your place at the center of the runway, you know you have your audience hooked even before dancing. There’s one guy in particular, right below you. He got arguably the best seat in the house along with his friend. You’ve seen the friend before, all confidence, slicked-back black hair, and a steamy attractive smile. Your coworkers say he’s pretty regular and always tips well. Thank god. The one next to him though, you don’t know anything about him except for the fact that the five stages of something flow across his face as you make eye contact with him. The low lighting does nothing to hide the blush flushing from the open neck of his crisp white button up to his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. He’s got a wad of cash already set casually on the bar top in front of him.

You smile, bright and unguarded, knowing. You’ll have the rest of Monday’s rent if he’s an indication of the rest of the customers that will be coming in tonight. He turns away, uncomfortable. Aw, how sweet. So unlike some of the slimy patrons you’re used to. Something you don’t like trips low in your belly. The biggest rule was no sex with any of the customers. It was in place for a reason and a majority of the time was a good one. You remind yourself of it as the song for your first dance starts playing over the speakers.

Buss it, buss it, buss it, buss it

Is you fuckin’? Two shots, fuck it

You take a deep breath, hands on the shiny silver pole, and wrap one leg around it. The metal is cold to the touch but something else has goosebumps crawling up your bare skin. When you spin, turning in the new guy’s direction, your suspicions are confirmed that the feeling is not the rest of the eyes on you but his. And his are suddenly, somehow, the only eyes you want to perform for. So you do.

Daichi can feel Kuroo snap to attention next to him; he can’t blame him. You’re stunning and you know it. You look like maybe you shouldn’t know how to do this so well, but none of that matters as all coherent thoughts leave Daichi’s head when you spin and drop, rolling your hips so your ass faces him. You turn and look at him as you rise slowly, a deliciously naughty smile still all over that pretty little mouth. He rushes to take a sip of his drink, drums his fingers on the bartop, runs them through his hair, anything to occupy his hands. Because he knows the only place they really should be is all over you. Oh, the things he would let you do to him. He’d do anything for you. He takes another gulp of whiskey, disappointed when he drains the heavy glass.

Oh, shit. Oh, shit. He knew you were making eye contact with him but when you get on all fours and crawl to him like some lethal jungle cat, the end of the song nearing, he knows he’s in for it. And he’s okay with that. Any doubts he had, about being here at least, have vanished completely. He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him but he leans forward to meet you where you are at the edge of the stage. The crowd is roaring around him, the cheers only growing louder at the chemistry shooting like electricity through the air between the two of you. They’re jealous cheers he thinks, although he’s sure as hell not looking away long enough to check anyone’s expressions to confirm.

“Got anything good for me, pretty boy?” Your voice is pitched low as you blink big eyes at him, a smirk playing on your lips. Because, goddammit, he is pretty. Prettier than any other patrons you’d ever catered to. You would not mind if he came to be one of your regulars, regardless of any funds that might be exchanged. You would not mind if he came regularly—in your cunt, on your ass, on your tongue… A girl could take her pick with a man like him. Thick dark hair, glittering brown eyes, full lips. A barrel chest and wide shoulders to boot. No sex with the customers, no sex with the customers, no sex with the customers…

You watch, heat pooling low in your belly, as he unbinds the cash you had noticed earlier. You can’t quite figure him out. Because he’s making eye contact with you as he spreads the folded bills, licks his thumb, and pulls out two crisp Benjamins but there is a nervous tremor in his large hands as he passes the bills to you. Your eyes widen, the act dropping momentarily before you catch yourself and push out your bottom lip in a pout.

“Hm, a girl should get a little more than that for such a good performance, don’t you think?” You are completely used to this, the schpeel. You’ve done it thousands of times at the last place you worked and hundreds more at this club. It’s part of the persona within these walls. Mystery man is apparently not used to acting this way. You can see the war within him as you take the bills and he leans back, trying to be casual but every line of him is taught like a rubber band about to break.

“You here all night?” Don’t give anyone your schedule. If they like you enough, they’ll figure it out on their own by being a regular paying customer. You nod, liking this new game. Toeing around something you would normally consider dangerous, if only for all the variables far out of your control. But that makes it all the more fun, especially when he clicks his tongue behind his teeth and replies “Good, then so am I. I have more where that came from. Do you?”

Kuroo is watching the interaction with a gaping mouth. Daichi doesn’t have a clue where this new side of him is coming from. Except. Except he does. And it feels damn good. Despite being sure it is glaringly obvious that he is leaping so far out of his comfort zone, you seem to be very receptive. He shouldn’t be entertaining the idea of staying all night. He could use some sleep. But he could also use that mouth around his cock. You probably have rules, rules that should be followed, for your safety. Daichi knows he’s safe, but you don’t. He most definitely should not ask for your number or give you his or ask what time you’re off. You shouldn’t answer him.

But you do, nodding earnestly when he asks if you’ll be here all night. He has no choice. There’s something about you that he can’t shake off. The extra cash is of no consequence to him, and maybe, just maybe… No, he won’t let that thought go further. He won’t imagine how you’d look on your knees, or bouncing on his cock. He won’t imagine you writhing beneath him or securing him to his headboard with those cuffs he’d bought but never gotten to use. He won’t imagine you breathily calling him pretty boy again even though, fuck, he wishes you would so, so bad.

“What’s your name,” you ask before you can stop yourself, before you rise to your feet. The rules here are good ones, meant to keep both the patrons and performers safe.  You’d worked at other establishments before that didn’t care so much about safety so much as they cared about money.  Your radar has never been off in the past and maybe that shouldn’t be enough for you but everything about Mystery Man makes you want to break every rule ever set before you.  There’s something about him that makes you want to risk it all.  You want to hear him whimper and you’d place bets that you could get him to do it in record time.  Even now, his breathing is shallow and he seems unable to answer you.  His friend leans over, elbowing him into action.

“His name’s Daichi.  And mine’s Kuroo.  Ya know, in case you wanted to know.”  His smile is genuine, not creepy at all.  You return the grin as you stand before turning back to Daichi.  He straightens a little, snapped back to reality by his friend.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you say to Kuroo.  He is attractive, just not who you have your eyes set on.  But it’s good information to pass along to your coworkers.  Judging by his tailored suit that fits just as good as Daichi’s, you’d wager his job pays like his friend’s.  The music swells again, the DJ cueing to your next song.  “Kuroo, make sure your friend doesn’t go anywhere.  Tonight’s for him.”  Kuroo scoffs in friendly disbelief at Daichi’s luck.

“I’m hauling you to the club more often,” he says to Daichi, who flashes a quick small smile.  Oh god, that smile could bring anyone you know to their knees.  It could certainly do it to you.  That smile alone could get you to do anything Daichi would ask.  You point at Kuroo as you take your place at the center pole again.

“I’m holding you to that, Kuroo.”  You brace your hands one over the other on the pole, and shake your ass for all it’s worth.

Body crazy, curvy, wavy, big titties, little waist.

Daichi’s going to have a stroke, he just knows it.  He can feel the veins in his forehead and neck bulging.  The blood has flowed elsewhere too.  His cock is so hard it feels painful.  There are several different ways he could get relief, most of which he should not be considering seeking in a public area.  But it’s unbearable and there’s no way he’s going to let himself come in front of all these other people.  He waits for the end of your current number and then he’s standing so fast his chair screeches out behind him; a couple of people look his way but for the most part, you’ve got everyone’s attention.  Kuroo glances sideways at his friend; he doesn’t say anything, just smirks as Daichi tosses another hundred on the bar top, telling Kuroo to give it to you before rushing to the bathroom.

He makes his way down the hall and notices there are several doors marked RESTROOM in bold capital letters.  Thank god there are single-person stalls.  He stumbles into one, shutting the door and locking it with shaking hands.  The music is still audible, even here; it seems to have dropped to a low steady hum.  Intermission.  Perfect.  Daichi turns to the sink and splashes cold water on his face, one last attempt to snap himself out of this fucking trance.  Because that’s what this has to be.  He’s getting all hot and bothered over someone who he doesn’t even know.  And god, he wants to think that you like him but he knows he’s tipping good and he’s not one of those creeps that can’t recognize it’s your fucking job.

The image in the mirror is one that almost shocks him; his eyes are glazed, and his hair’s a mess.  Just once, he just needs to come once and then he can stay here until the end of the night like he said he would.  He’ll tip you like a good customer would.  Then he’ll leave and he’ll never come back.  Because this?  This is Daichi out of control and he’s not sure that’s a good thing.  Maybe he should go back to making love to nice girls in his king-sized bed.  Yes, that’s what he’ll do.  He’ll leave here and he won’t come back and he’ll never think of you again.

Daichi unbuckles his belt, the metal of the buckle clanking as he yanks his zipper down.  He lets out a pained breath, his cock straining against his underwear.  He slips his hand into the elastic band, taking it into his hand and bringing it out into the air.  He backs up to the wall, the cool air offering little comfort for the engorged head, and closes his fist around himself.  A breath comes fast and heavy out of his mouth as he starts jacking himself off slowly, trying to make the moment last.

You watch as Daichi stands abruptly, so quickly and sharply that he almost topples his chair over.  You watch as he tosses another bill on the bar top, leaning in to say something to Kuroo.  You watch as he throws one last glance your way before beelining to the bathrooms.  Idiot.  Absolute idiot is what you are because you’re making your way off the runway, ignoring the audience as a low boo goes through the crowd.  Your boss catches your eye from the end of the bar and waves you over.

“What the hell is going on?”  It’s not said unkindly but more with an air of annoyance.  This is your first Friday night on your own and you might be blowing it.  But you don’t care.  You put on a fake wince and point at your head, trying to look as contrite and imploring as possible.

“I’m so sorry, I know it’s my first Friday and I’m so grateful.  But I’ve really gotta pee and I’ve got this horrible headache starting.  Can I take ten?  Just ten minutes, enough time for an ibuprofen to set in while I go to the bathroom, and then I’ll be back out.  Please.”  You put those big eyes back to use, blinking slow and tilting your head slightly like you’re trying to relieve the pain of your fake headache.  Your boss squints his eyes but doesn’t protest as he pulls a bottle of Advil from behind the bar.  He hands you a couple with a glass of water.

“Ten minutes.  Go to the bathroom.  Take a breather.  Then get your ass back out there.  I’ve seen the business you’re encouraging after two sets.  You’ll be back up there as one of my main performers if you keep up the good work.”  You smile as you throw the pills back with the water and hurry in the direction of the restroom, pulling on one of the extra robes from the bar.  Now to find Daichi.

A couple is making out in the hallway; you brush past them and knock quietly on the first door.  A voice answers quickly that the stall is occupied but it’s not Daichi’s voice.  You knock on two more doors before getting to the last one.  You suppose he could have gone into the multi-stall restroom but you’d seen the look on his face when he’d stood and you’d bet all the cash he’d given you so far that he wasn’t coming back here to take a piss.  You rap your knuckles on the last single-person stall.  You’re rewarded with his voice coming from the other side.

“There’s someone-ha-there’s someone in here!”  He can barely get the words out; you know what’s going on in that stall and you want to help.  You rub your thighs together, realizing you’re already getting wet.

“Daichi, it’s me.”  This is stupid.  Maybe he doesn’t even like you that much.  Maybe you’re just some stripper at a strip club.  There’s a heavy silence now, almost solid enough that you could cut it with a knife.  Another pause and you’re getting ready to leave, cursing your confidence for all that it’s getting you, but then you hear the click of the door unlocking.  He opens it but only just so.  Still, it’s an invitation and one you are eager to accept.  You open the door just wide enough to slip through to shield yourself from any potential wandering eyes in the hall.  The scene inside the stall nearly wrecks you.

Daichi has backed up against the wall, as far away from you as humanly possible.  It’s so obvious that he’s been jacking himself off. His hair is messy, his eyes wild like he was already on the brink. He’s desperately trying to cover his cock with his hands and even though they’re large, they can’t cover it completely. You meet his gaze, which he tries to avoid, his eyes fluttering left then right with shame, before finally settling on you. Something trips across your skin.

“Babe, let me help you with that,” you whisper as you direct your line of sight to his cock. It twitches as you move closer, slowly, as if you’re approaching a cornered animal. Daichi groans a little when you reach him, one hand steadying on his shoulder and the other reaching up to touch his face.

“This is—this is not what it looks like, I swear. I promise I’m not some creep, I just—” You put a single finger softly to his lips, making sure he’s got his eyes on you. They widen just a bit. In the brighter light of the bathroom, you can see how rich the color of his irises are, golden brown like sunlight streaming through an autumn wood, or espresso, or something corny like that. Fuck the rules.

“Daichi, can I kiss you?” The question is out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. His mouth drops open but his eyes rove from yours down to your lips, then your covered chest, and back up. Finally, he nods so you guide his face down to yours and kiss him. His lips are soft and warm and pliable. He makes a little sound in the back of his throat, so unlike the image he’d put out walking in this place with his fine, tailored suit and stack of cash. Your hand slips from his shoulder and moves down the ridge of his pectoral, then lower still to the hard planes of his stomach. You trail your fingers over the now wrinkled fabric, close to his undone belt and open pants. His cock jumps against your abdomen past his hands and he gasps. “Is this okay?” You ask the question, certain that Daichi just needs the chance to give in. He nods again so you smooth your hand lower until it wraps around his cock.

Daichi’s head thunks against the wall of the bathroom as another sharp breath explodes from his open mouth. “Oh, fuck,” he growls quietly. You move your hand experimentally, softly, swiping your thumb across the head, gathering the bit of precome at the tip and smearing it about. You can’t decide what you want to look at more: the red bleeding over Daichi’s skin from the neck up, his heaving chest, or how his cock looks in your hands. He’s so… responsive. Each turn of your wrist has him shuddering beneath you. More. You need more. You want to see him beg. And part of you also realizes that he needs this too. You drop to your knees and his eyes snap back open as he watches you. “What’re you doing?”

“Only what you want me to do, Daichi. Unless you don’t want me to?” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s shaking his head. He wraps his hand around yours, enveloping it, and moves it once, twice, over himself. A thought occurs to you, one you’re denying even as you ask him “Daichi, have you ever come down anyone’s throat?” The answer is obvious but you still feel incredulous as he tells you no. The veins in his hands are bulging and he’s still, like the calm before the storm. You lean in, maintaining eye contact, as you blow a breath over his cock. “Do you want to?”

It’s like you flipped a switch. Daichi, slowly now so you have time to pull away if you want to, curls his fingers in your hair, stroking them along your scalp. “Yes, please.” He whispers it, certain this is a dream. This has to be a fucking dream. He’s had a blow job before but never has he ever asked to come in someone’s mouth. He’s a clean guy but he’s not clueless; he just assumed most people thought it was gross and never had a problem with the fact that no one wanted to do that. At least not anyone he had been with. But, oh, he’d thought about it, lots of times. Most of those times in one night.

His pupils are blown wide as you lick your lips and take just the tip, swirling your tongue over the head. His skin is smooth, molten hot. The way your eyes never leave his is something else entirely and when you hollow out your cheeks and relax your throat to take all of him, he thinks he might die. He’s trying to maintain some semblance of control but it is already dwindling to nothing. There’s a coil building in his abdomen. Not yet he thinks viciously. Not yet. You take a few more pulls before releasing him with a pop. Frantic, he feels frantic. Maybe you decided you didn’t want to do this and he’d have to be okay with that, he couldn’t blame you but god damn—

“Daichi, eyes on me.” The man’s Adam’s apple bobs as he locks in on you again. “Let go, babe. Show me how you want it. Pull my hair. Set the pace. And when you’re gonna come, you come down my throat. Nowhere else, you got it? I’ve got five more minutes. Think we can get you there, pretty boy?” He nearly blacks out when you say those words he needed to hear again. Oh, yes, yes he’s sure you can. His eyes search yours once more before fisting his hand in your hair, tightening experimentally. You smile around his cock, deep-throating him once more, but waiting expectantly. He’s not going to come back from this. You’ve ruined anyone else for him. And he’s accepted his fate.

The moment he lets go, the moment he breaks down whatever wall is holding him in place, you can sense it. You place your hands on his thighs as he pulls you nearly all the way off before shoving you back down. Your eyes water just a bit but you feel the slick gather between your thighs. Yes, the girl inside of you that wants to see him to the end hisses. He sets the pace, a strong and quick one, but somehow still gentle. If you said you needed to stop now, you somehow know he’d do so immediately. He twists a little more, angling your head just how he wants it. You set your teeth down ever so lightly just to see….

Daichi whimpers and gasps, the sound nearly a sob on his lips. You swirl your tongue again and suck. “Ha—shit. Just. Just like that,” he grits out as he grips tighter. It hurts a little, your hair and your knees, but the pain swirls with the pleasure in a delicious slide of skin against skin. Your nails dig into his thighs again before he takes one of your hands and closes it around the base of his cock. You grip, working your wrist along with your mouth. He bucks against you, a jerky movement. “I’m close, fuckfuckfuck I’m close. I’m gonna come.” His voice lies somewhere between a bark and a whine. He can’t decide if he wants you closer, or farther, to stop or keep going. His brain is short-circuiting. He tries to pull back just a little bit, but you won’t let him in the best way possible.

You quirk your wrist and tilt your head in just a certain way… Daichi cries out, long and broken, as he curls in over you, his orgasm washing over him in waves so intense his vision goes black. His entire body shudders with his release, his form towering over you as he spurts ropes of come all the way down your throat. You milk him for all he’s worth. Not a single drop is getting away from you, no way in hell. Next time, you want him to come in your pussy. Next time? God, you want there to be a next time. He’s still leaning over you when his breathing slows and steadies; his hands are bracing themselves on your back rubbing soothing circles there with his thumbs. He helps you to your legs and steadies you for a moment.

The silence stretches on as you look at each other, both a little shocked at what just conspired. Daichi slowly puts himself back into his pants and you help him buckle his belt. You’re both on the verge of saying something either extremely brave or extremely stupid with each moment that passes. You’re about to make the first move again when he reaches up and takes your jaw in his hand, running a thumb along the corner of your mouth to gently push the last of his spend into your mouth. You lean into the touch and welcome his finger, sucking it clean just like his dick. He thinks he might be in love with you.

A breathless giggle comes out of you as you back away just a fraction, trying to give yourself space from the startling sensation fluttering in your stomach like butterflies. Your boss is gonna kick your ass if you don’t get back out on the floor. “I would invite you to my place to continue this after I’m off but it’s a little crowded and the walls are thin,” you say, hoping against hope that he wants more just as much as you do. There’s no room for doubt when he leans in and kisses you, deep and slow, tasting himself in your mouth.

“That’s no problem, princess. If you’re still feeling this when you’re off, I’ve got a penthouse all to myself.” Oh, there it is—the swagger you expected him to have. Your eyes glitter as you smooth out your hair, knowing it still looks good enough to perform. If anything, the smell of sex and the appearance of your swollen lips will get you better money, as long as your boss doesn’t catch on. You don’t think he will. “I’ll find you at the end of the night.” You nod, suddenly the bashful one.

Somehow, everything that just transpired did so all in your ten-minute break. In fact, you have one minute to spare as you strut back to the runway, giving your boss a wink and blowing a kiss to the stupefied audience.

“Harder, Daichi, harder.” You can barely get the words out as he thrusts inside of your aching cunt. Your face is pushed into the pillows on Daichi’s king-sized bed, your ass in the air. The sound of skin slapping on skin in the quiet of his room is pornographic but you can’t waste any thoughts on being even remotely embarrassed. Tears stream down your face as he continually hits that spot inside of you that you’ve only been able to hit with a dildo and even then it never came close to this. Daichi’s a machine, the way he keeps going. After you sucked him off and he came so quickly earlier in the night, he was determined to make this one last longer. One of his hands is gripping tightly into the plush of where your hip meets your ass cheek, the other is splayed over your back, even now caressing the skin, alighting it with goosebumps. “Oh, fuuuuuck,” you whine as that same hand snakes around to your neck to pull you up.

His fingers and palm ghost over the skin as he thrusts up into you and it’s all you can do to hold to his thighs for dear life, your nails digging in so hard you’ll know they’ll leave a mark. “Are you close, princess?” He whispers it labored into your ear, his breath hot, his mouth even hotter as he leans in to nip at your pulse point from behind. You nod frantically, almost unable to answer. “Can I come inside, baby? Will you let me? Will you let me be a good boy for you?” His hand moves from your throat to your clit, stroking one slow circle over the oversensitive nub. Thank god for birth control.

“Yes, Daichi, yes, come in my pussy. Oh, god, yes be a good boy for me.” You squeal as he thrusts hard, once, twice, swiping his fingers over your clit again in a more concentrated pattern and you feel your first orgasm of the night sweep over you as Daichi finds his own release with a mangled, animalistic groan.  You think he’s done, especially when he pulls out leaving you feeling way too empty.  But you’re wrong, so, so wrong.  He proceeds to flip you over and push back in, a ring of white forming around where he’s begun thrusting inside of you again.  

“I thought about this all fucking night.”  He surges up over you, grabbing your wrists and pulling them above you.  “I thought about that pretty little cunt around my cock.  I thought about how pretty you’d look laying in my bed.”  One thrust, slow and teasing.  You roll your hips up to meet him, even though your thighs are weak and shaking.  “I’ve never–I’ve never fucked anyone like this before, it’s,” he leans in to suck on your pulse again, runs his tongue over the salty skin there, “magical.”  You whimper beneath him when you feel the familiar coil tightening once more in your belly.  

“Do you think I can make you come again, Daichi?  Can you come for me one more time?”  He groans, sealing his lips over yours as he releases your hands so that can pull him closer into you.  You scrape your nails from the nape of his neck into his hair, and grip, breathless, as his rhythm becomes choppy again.  God, you don’t know how he’s still going.  The two of you are so frenzied, the blood in your veins hotter than a blue flame.  “Look at me when you come, baby, look at me,” you whisper, bringing your hands to his cheeks.  His eyes are glazed, his face strained but still beautiful.  “I’m going to touch myself now, okay?”  His mouth pops open again as he nods, before watching as you wrap one arm around his shoulder and bring your other hand to your clit.  You swipe around his cock, collecting some of the mess you’ve both made there.  You know how to pleasure yourself and with Daichi’s expert stroke, it doesn’t take long before it snaps over you, the walls of your pussy squeezing around him forcing spend from him one more time.  It’s not as explosive as the first time but still enough that you can feel the wet leaking out onto his sheets.  “So good for me, Daichi, look how good you are for me,” you chant as you wring the last of the pleasure from each other.

When it’s over, he stills, pulling out of you and collapsing onto the bed beside you.  There’s a sheen of sweat covering you both.  The cool early morning air coming in Daichi’s open window creates the perfect juxtaposition of sensations.  He reaches over to trace patterns into your palm.  “Can I hold you?”  The question is so sweet, it makes you huff out a laugh.  The man just blew your back out and he asks if he can hold you.  But you are more than willing to oblige him so you roll into his open arm and lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.  You wait a moment before looking up at him, relishing the feeling of his fingers now tracing patterns into your arm and shoulder.

“Didn’t you mention something about handcuffs earlier?”  He looks down at you jerkily, a sheepish grin on his face.  You smile mischievously.  You’re going to ruin him.  He’s going to let you.  And he’s going to love it.

“Let me make you breakfast first, yeah?”  You nod and breathe in the smell of him, all sex and musk and expensive cologne.  Neither one of you knows where this is going to go but right now, it doesn’t matter.  You yawn and snuggle closer.

“Just so you know,” you intone sleepily, “I like French toast.”  He laughs softly, his own body relaxing into a lazy slumber.

“Hm, French toast?  I pinned you as a pancake kinda girl.  Good thing I also like French toast and always keep the supplies in to make it.”  His breathing is slow and shallow, matching the rhythm of yours.  The sun peeks over the cityscape around you as the two of you go under, cradled in each other’s arms.

This work and its digital elements (photo credit to photographer) are © Kait of @kaitsawamura 2024. Please do not alter or copy this work. Please do not repost this work to other platforms without my express permission.

[deandoesthingstome]

Medieval Fantasy

Pairing: Witcher!Geralt x Reader

Summary: The offerings at this hotel, I swear.

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving, 69), p in v (cowgirl, missionary), monster fucking (right?).

A/N: I suppose, strictly speaking we're not fucking the monster, but he's still a treat, so enjoy!

A/N 2: (Edited) I do owe @augustsprincess a little thank your for an idea; I played it out during the group chat here, but I probably wouldn't have included it at all if not for you, so *smooches*

Fantasy Hotel Masterlist

Mike ordered a pizza from room service for the last hour of your reservation with him once he flipped the time switch. You sat cross-legged on the couch with him, munching happily while he narrated the ridiculousness of the rest of the scenes to your scary movie, making you giggle where you’d normally be hiding behind a blanket. You’d remember this night fondly for a long time. Mike’s easy going way had put you completely at ease once he noticed you were a little hung up on Walt.

He unfortunately didn’t know anything about how to get a hold of your missing object of desire.

You set the scene for the story pretty much as it was, but added more spook and gore, opting to split up the experience into two nights. One with live Mike, just barely slipping out the window before the parents came home from their Halloween night costume parties, only to be killed by the tow truck driver who showed up when his car, parked around the corner from the house, wouldn’t start. He was hung on the hook that should have hoisted his beater onto the truck. And one a few weeks later, when the heavy drag of the chains and hook across the attic floor led the heroine to investigate, only to be taken swiftly and with no mercy by her incorporeal boyfriend. Not rough, just urgent, insistent, longing for some other connection that would allow him to leave the vicinity of his undoing. If he could have taken her outside on the sidewalk without prying neighbor eyes, he probably would have.

You put the notice up after you posted. The next would be your last regular monster fucking post. You were taking a hiatus to work on your first novel.

sendmeanangel: and then Walter burst through the window, all wolfed out darkgothnightengale: while they were both fucking you??? sendmeanangel: yeah, and i can only think my subconscious was trying to not kill me when it chose August and Mike for that experience. I can’t imagine having anything else inside me while getting fucked by the Bull MNstrluvr: i would kill for a dream like that darkgothnightengale: well, did he take you away? sendmeanangel: i woke up!!! darkgothnightengale: and still no luck finding him? sendmeanangel: no. i found a guy who seemed like him, but he’s in Minnesota. Or was. It’s like his online presence is either non-existent or ended abruptly at least ten years ago MNstrluvr: another ghost lol! sendmeanangel: very funny. Mike was a lot of fun anyway. I needed that darkgothnightengale: and you’re still going back? sendmeanangel: i’ve never heard of a witcher. He just showed up on the site the other week and i bet he’s softer than he looks. I booked him at the same time i booked Mike, so it’s already scheduled and i could do with one more amazing adventure before i give it all up darkgothnightengale: i still don’t understand why. If you don’t have walter, what’s the harm? sendmeanangel: there’s no harm. Obviously i’m free to do what i want. But i think about him all the time. And i just think maybe it’s time for a break MNstrluvr: when you find him you should see if he’s up for booking a room with you so you can recreate that dream sendmeanangel: oh my goddddd! 

“We certainly hope you haven’t been displeased with your experiences here,” the desk clerk asked gently.

“What? No! Everything’s been wonderful. Why do you ask?” you inquired, at a loss for what may have precipitated the comment.

“We noticed you hadn’t made another future booking yet.”

“Oh, that,” you stammered. ”I just…no, everything’s fine.” You fingered the edges of the card stock bearing the elevator code to get you to L2 and tightened your grip on your bag reflexively. Just a trick you used to bring you back to steady. 

“Well, please. If there’s anything at all we can do for you…” You smiled and cast your eyes down so as not to betray your true feelings, but glanced up quickly to try to judge the meaning behind the next statement made with a hint of weightiness. “Anything at all.”

“Thank you,” you offered. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The elevator opened to a small wooden hut, a place for your belongings and coat, a small wash basin filled with still steaming water and fragrant scents set on a wooden stand. You disrobed, dipped a washcloth in the water, and bathed yourself with the enchanting smells, then grabbed a linen towel to dry off before climbing into the outfit you’d selected for the fantasy. You slipped the silver dagger into the holster you’d strapped to your thigh and dropped your heavy skirt down over it before wrapping the cloak around your shoulders.

You had no idea what you were walking out into, only that if things got too hairy, as they absolutely could, he’d be there to save you. There to comfort you. 

You stepped out onto a wooded path leading to a trail along a marshy bog, mostly full moon shining in the sky above you. You were never going to get over the mechanics of this hotel that made it seem like you were in at least five distinctly different places, some of which were outside, while still housed in the same building. But you were solidly on the side of possibility. Monsters were real. Magic was real. This hotel was real.

You carried a small basket of goods, as if headed to a market or maybe home from one. The path ahead of you seemed less than ideal and you began to wonder if you’d made a wrong turn. The churning and bubbling of the bog was lost on you as you looked around for another path that might lead to more solid ground, grateful for the light of the moon since a flashlight app was absolutely not happening, as your phone was left back in the hut.

Suddenly, a loud shriek sounded from the liquid and a large figure began to emerge, long twig-like legs reaching into the space above it as if searching for something. You dropped your basket and ran as soon as it became obvious the thing it was searching for was you. A moment’s respite allowed you to reach under your skirt and grab the dagger before you resumed fleeing away from the monster but suddenly a creepy crawly leg swept around you and it was all you could do to jump out of the way.

You stumbled when you hit the ground, but landed on your back, which meant you could stab up at whatever was coming at you and you did. The blade wasn’t long enough to do full damage, but some gore dripped down your arm as you registered a little casualty point and you pulled back and stabbed again as quick as you could, completely unconcerned with whatever came oozing out. It had to be better than being dead, you thought.

You heard another roar and the distinct slice of a finely crafted blade through the air and the legs that had you trapped were suddenly no longer attached to the larger body that was stalking you. It gave you time to move, scramble out of the way and find a spot to regroup. From behind the boulder you saw him. Leather clad, silver hair flowing, steel blade drawn and hacking through more limbs. As he spun for another attack, you glimpsed his dark eyes and shimmery, pale skin.

It was maybe not the time, but his ass looked great too. 

“Little help,” the strained call came, as he flipped the beast over, tackling what you took to be the lower extremities. A smooth patch on the chest seemed like it was made for stabbing so you climbed onto the rock and jumped, landing right on top of the beast with your tiny blade finding a home in the furry goo. 

One final, ear-splitting shriek and the deed was done. Your compadre stood and held out a hand to help you up and off the steadily shrinking body of the buggy creature you’d just slayed. You felt your feet touch solid ground as you looked up at the mountain of a man who stood before you.

“Alright?” he asked. “I think you got ‘im, but we should head out in case there are more. I don’t think tonight is the right time for this. We’ll come back tomorrow and finish the job.”

“What job?”

“Okay, sure. This wasn’t why you were walking alone late at night in a Krak infested bog? Are you telling me you weren’t hired to clear the area?”

“No?” you answered, unsure what the words coming out of his mouth meant. Was this what a witcher did?

“Were you hired for anything?”

“I’m really not sure what you mean.” You had to find a way to talk to this man coherently. You remembered your basket. “I was just walking back to town from a market. I think I got a little lost.”

“I think you got a lot lost. Can I help you find your way back? I’m Geralt.” His black eyes were  ringed with dark circles, but in the moonlight, those looked like they were fading slowly.

You offered your name and a hand, which he shook, and you felt a line of heat rush straight through your arm, down your chest, and into your core. You gasped as the last of the shadows over his face and eyes dissipated, leaving you staring into amber eyes full of flame. The memory of lights piercing the shadows the other night flooded your brain. What if that wasn’t Walter, as you suspected? But no; the howling.

Geralt helped you locate your discarded basket, into which you stuffed your goo-covered corset and cape, eager to be free from the stench and hoping desperately that dry cleaning would do the trick when you were home. You mounted his horse, Roach, with his assistance and he led you into town. He made a beeline straight for an inn, dropping you off at the entrance with instructions to ask about lodging while he found boarding for his horse for the night.

“Oi! You’re late!” an oversized brute behind the bar exclaimed in your direction as you entered the tavern and you froze, unsure what part of the fantasy this could be. “Have ya lost control of yer legs suddenly? Bring the goods here. Now!”

You looked down at the basket with a realization that was confirmed by another shout.

“Yes. That. The basket. Now!”

You were about to begin the trek across the wooden floor to hand off your basket to the foul looking man, when a pair of comforting hands came to rest on your upper arms, holding you firmly in place.

“I think you have the wrong merchant. This basket of goods is mine,” Geralt’s deep and soothing voice growled. “And we require rooms for the night.”

Rooms? Was this not happening?

“Almost full tonight, Witcher. Only one room left.” You stifled a snort at the cliche of it all.

“We’ll take it. And I’d venture to say you’ll want to provide a meal and round on the house. At least one of your swamp monsters is already dead thanks to this one.” Geralt stepped you into the tavern and over to the bar where a key dangled from the innkeeper's hand.

“She took out a Krak?”

“Practically single-handedly.” There was something like pride in Geralt’s voice, and maybe a little admiration, though you definitely didn't handle that on your own. Still, you grabbed the key with a smirk and turned to find an empty table. Geralt followed once he’d grabbed two tankards of ale, and two plates of stew with bread were set down in front of you after a few moments of awkward silence, during which you took in the clientele. How was the hotel paying all these extras?

“Wolf!” someone called from the entrance and for a moment you thought they’d seen Walter. You looked around, but found nothing other than another sizable man clad in leather and steel making his way to your table.

“Lambert,” Geralt acknowledged him, and introduced you. “What brings you tonight?”

“Just finished up a town over and heard of another job. Looks like you’ve already taken it on. Finished so soon?”

“Hardly started. First kill’s hers anyhow.” Geralt nodded with what appeared to be reverence in your direction.

“Beginner’s luck,” you demurred. “I don’t think a small dagger is going to be of much use with the rest of whatever those were.”

“Looks like I’ll be headed out at first light alone then, to complete the task,” Geralt mumbled, with a comforting look at you before turning attention back to Lambert.  “I’d welcome your assistance with this one.”

A barmaid approached to set another tankard of ale in front of your new red-headed table mate and you didn’t miss the way her hand traced over his shoulder and her eyes met his as she walked back toward the counter to continue serving other customers.

“It’s a good thing you’ve found your bed for the night, since we’ve just taken the last one,” Geralt grumbled with a hint of tease. 

“Unless you need my assistance with anything else?” Lambert’s tone was clear and they both turned their gazes slowly toward you. 

It was a choice. You hadn’t asked for this, but you were being offered an option. Heat filled your cheeks and you cast your eyes down with a sudden shyness. Though two entirely different men, your dream from the other night was somehow presented to you on a platter, and yet…

“I don’t think I’m anything Geralt can’t handle on his own,” you replied, aware this was your call and no one else's.

With the sleeping arrangements out of the way, you spent the next hour or so enjoying stories of training and fighting. If your ears didn’t deceive you, several of their completed jobs seemed to include gratitude delivered by way of sexual favors, sometimes alone, sometimes together. They were cheeky and sly with the language, but the innuendos were there and you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking about it. 

You waived off another round of ale and professed you’d much rather find a tub of warm water to sink into for a bit. Geralt agreed and you both said your goodnights to Lambert.

Settled into the room, you were surprised to find there really was a wooden tub full of tepid water. A large cauldron hung over a roaring fire and you watched as Geralt used a rudimentary crane-like contraption to hoist the pot over the tub and dump its boiling contents into the water below.

“It’ll warm the water for a bit, so you should take advantage now, if you were serious.”

“It doesn’t look like there’s room for both of us,” you mentioned with a little sadness.

“We can take turns, just don’t stay in too long,” he replied with a mischievous smirk. “Do you need any help with your garments?”

With your corset already removed, all that remained was to unlace the heavy woolen skirt and lift the flowing linen gown underneath it over your head. Geralt was a huge help nevertheless and your body shivered as you imagined his fingers tracing every inch of you, not just your waist or the lucky bits of leg that received his touch as he bent to grab the hem of your dress.

He held your hand as you stepped into the tub and sat down, knees bent against your chest. How would he ever manage to fit himself in here? you thought. While you swirled the water around you, you watched as he turned away to unbuckle his leathers and disrobe as well. You were right about his ass. 

You smiled a little to yourself at how comfortable getting naked with him was and then you smiled wider when he turned to face you once again, approaching you in all his glory and settling down onto a stool next to the tub with a washcloth in his hand.

Geralt offered to help you wash off, then dunked his hand into the water when you accepted. He ran the soft rag along your back, down your arms, across your chest. He took a few moments to run the soaked cloth along his body as well when the water began to cool much faster than you’d hoped, leaving no opportunity for him to sit in the tub himself. When he “dropped” the rag while dipping it back in the water for another pass, he didn’t hesitate to reach deeper into the tub, fingers searching the bottom for the cloth but finding your bottom instead. He leaned forward to complete the kiss you had asked for with a lick of your lips and smiled into your gasp when his fingers made their way between your legs.

“You know,” he started after pulling away from your hungry mouth, “I do feel as if I owe you a bit of gratitude myself.”

“Why, whatever do you mean, Geralt?” you gently taunted with a fake bit of naivete.

“You were the hero tonight. You deserve a reward.” He stood from the stool, exposing his hardening length, and helped you to stand.

“And will you be my reward?” you purred, clasping your arms around his neck as he lifted you out of the tub.

“Gladly,” he replied, slipping his hands eagerly down your side body and around your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist. He captured your mouth again with a searing kiss as he walked toward the bed and deposited you on your back, legs splayed wide and waiting for him.

“Maybe you could finish what you started.”

He dove to the bed next to you and cupped your cunt with a rather large hand.

“This is just the beginning,” he promised as he bent two fingers and slipped them inside. He watched your face with intent as he pumped his fingers in and out, teasing more and more slick from deep inside you. He kissed you when he added a third finger, swallowing the moan that ripped from your throat. 

You couldn’t control your hips if you wanted to, bucking up into his hand, trying to pull him in deeper, trying to find the grind that would let you explode. His lips on your jawline, his tongue on your neck, kisses on your collarbone before he nuzzled into you and whispered how good you fucking smelled from here already. All these words of praise and touches of desire sent you right over the edge with an urgent need to crawl back up and do it again.

He must have been expecting you to take some time to recover because he was off guard when you pushed at his shoulder and sent him to his back so you could sit up and swing your legs over his. Settled on his thighs with an eye toward his very large erection, you smiled and made clear your intentions.

“I want you, Geralt. All of you.”

“However you’d like,” he grinned back, one arm tucked behind his head and the other reaching to stroke himself. 

“Fuuuuuuuhhhck,” you moaned, watching how he handled himself, sure saliva was probably dripping from the side of your mouth. “Kinda like that.”

You scooted back down his legs and leaned forward, eager to let him feed you the cock he was keeping hard for you. As with every other host, it was going to be impossible to take him all the way, but you were going to give your best effort on the parts you could reach. His hand motion shortened as your mouth took over servicing the head and a few inches of length. You let your tongue swirl around the tip and dripped saliva from your mouth to give both of you something to slide over. 

Your pussy was still yearning for touch and since you didn’t need your own hands for the blowjob, you let one travel down your body and between your legs to trace along your folds. You rubbed two fingers over your sensitive clit, curling to dip them into your warm, wet opening a few times before returning to focus attention at the nub. 

“I can help with that, if you’d like,” Geralt grunted breathlessly, the arm behind his neck reaching now for your body, prodding you to turn. While you continued to lave over Geralt’s prodigious member, you crawled around to find your knees on either side of his head and when you felt his hand smooth over your ass, you didn’t resist the pull.  

You moaned around the cock in your throat while Geralt wrapped his lips around your pussy and licked his way into your slit. Eventually, he let go of his dick and wrapped both hands around your thighs, holding you close against his face and lapping in tandem with the bob of your head.

On more than one occasion you found you could not concentrate effectively on the head you were giving, since the head you were receiving was so mind blowing. You found you had to lift your mouth off his cock and beg for more, scream for him to make you come. When he did, you were able to return to pleasuring him, since he didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry to move you away. Instead, it was as if he were playing a game called ‘how many times can you come on this tongue.’

It became abundantly clear that you were never going to be able to return the favor. Geralt was not interested in coming down your throat, so when you felt like you couldn’t handle one more tender lick, one more urgent suckle, one more flick of the tip of his tongue on your sensitive pearl, you begged off. Pleaded for mercy.

“I’m not done,” he called from the other end of the bed. “I still owe you my gratitude.”

You peeled yourself reluctantly away from his cock and eased yourself around again, to lay alongside him, chest heaving and thighs shaking.

“I can’t fathom how one Krak deserves more than you’ve already given, but I’ll gladly take it, if only you’ll let me rest a moment.” You draped an arm over his chest and drifted your fingers through the dusting of hair you found. 

“Perhaps some water?” he offered, reaching for a cup and the pitcher by the bedside. You shared the cool liquid, quenching one thirst while another still burned hot and needy. 

“How long can you last? Surely I’m not that bad at oral.”

His laugh was so bright, it was as if the room was suddenly aglow.

“You are excellent at that. I just have a lot of practice not letting go until I’m sure my partner has reached the absolute peak. It’s a point of pride.”

He wasn’t arrogant about it, just matter of fact. He was here to serve. 

“What if we simply waited until you were ready again? Surely that wouldn’t take forever.” You trailed your fingers down his chest, through the patch of hair at his abdomen, and onto his still rock hard length. Feeling how firm he was, letting your hand trace the veins, your thumb nudging the helmet of the head, you couldn’t help but be hungry for him again.

You found yourself straddling his thighs once more, eyeing his cock, begging for him to fuck you now.

“Do they have condoms in this time, wherever we are?” If an ancient Greek labyrinth had condoms, surely this medieval inn had them, too. You were still in the hotel after all. He chuckled and nodded toward the nightstand, where you found a plain wooden box that revealed what you were after when opened.

Geralt made to take the packet from you, but you resisted. “Allow me, please.”

You tore open the package and worked the rubber onto the tip, then rolled the sides down and checked the fit. You let him make a final adjustment, but when he leaned up as if to roll you over, you protested.

“I’m good right here,” you purred, grabbing ahold of his sheathed cock and lifting up to position yourself right above him. You set him at your entrance, still dripping from your several orgasms, and lowered yourself good and slow. You were getting used to the size of these men, but that didn’t mean the start didn’t require some care.

Your eyes closed almost involuntarily once you’d taken him to the hilt and you sat motionless for a moment, feeling your core loosen around him. You began a steady pulse, up and down, as you opened your eyes to see him staring up at you with desire. He rested his hands on your hips, neither speeding you up nor slowing you down, just feeling the motion, feeling you. 

After a few more strokes, you grabbed his hands and slid them up your body, pressing the palms of his hands against your breasts and tossing your head back at the sensation. He was more than willing to continue cupping and squeezing without your guidance which allowed you to set your hands on his thighs behind you, providing even more leverage for your rise and fall. Now you sped up. 

“Fuck, Geralt, this feels so good,” you cried out.

“I can make it better,” he countered, slipping his hands around your ribs and pulling you forward, chest to chest as he captured your lips once more. With his hands firmly holding your head in place, he began to buck up into you and when it seemed like it was going to be to much, he let his hands drift down your back and onto your hips again, to hold you place while he set a punishing pace, thrusting ever harder and deeper into your pulsing core until he finally exploded with a roar. It wasn’t your peak, but you weren’t complaining in the least. He’d fucked you through several tiny orgasms, each ebbing and flowing with ease. If there was nothing more, no additional gratitude the rest of the night, you’d be just fine.

But he was having none of it. He lifted you off and laid you to the side, urging you back against the head of the bed and lifting the covers for you to climb under. Once you were comfy, he left the bed to deal with the condom removal, grabbing an apple and knife from his bag on the way back. You sat and conversed while he fed you thin slices of sweet fruit, taking his own bites after every third for you.

Geralt was easy to talk to. Not overly wordy, but happy to chat nonetheless. Although you wanted to ask questions about the hotel, you knew it would be wildly inappropriate so you stuck with the script for the scene. What would it take to clear the rest of the Kraks? How dangerous would it have been had he gone alone? What’s the most danger he’d ever gotten into? The most fun? How often, exactly, had he and Lambert been thanked simultaneously?

That question was designed to reignite the passion in the room. You weren’t disappointed. The mere telling of the experiences got him rock hard again and it was with delight that you let him take the lead the rest of the evening. Once he’d donned another condom after feasting on your pussy one more time, he took you on your back, legs wrapped around his waist so he could grab at them when he needed to open you wider or lift your leg over his shoulder to find that one final deep spot that had you panting his name and coming hard around him. He took one more lingering kiss, then pulled out and tidied up, joining you back under the covers for a final round of pillow talk before turning in for the night.

Somehow, with the knowledge that the physical part of the evening was over, the air in the room changed and the conversation did as well. He wasn’t overly concerned with keeping the topics to the scene, but you found yourself second guessing if you should ask anything at all about Walter. It seemed rude, even though Mike had been completely open about it. This stay wasn’t that one. 

You’d booked an overnight and Geralt hadn’t needed to bend time for you, if that was even something he could do, so you had no direct in with a question about his possible gifts. You could maybe ask why Lambert had called him Wolf, since they were both from the same school. But in the end it was Geralt who brought up Walter, without realizing what he was doing.

“I lucked into this spot. The hotel had just lost one of their best hosts, and the guy was booked solid weeks out. They’re still trying to find another werewolf to take his room, but in the meantime they contacted me and set up this level.”

“How did they find out about you?” you asked, trying to keep your heart rate from spiking at the hint of information about Walter.

“The way they find out about any of us, I suppose. Word of mouth.”

“Do you know what happened to him? The guy before you?” You didn’t think you were holding your breath, but Geralt’s answer told you otherwise.

“Not a clue. I try not to get caught up in the gossip. Hey, are you alright? You look like you’re about to faint. That’s a real skill since you’re already laying down.”

You tried to take a breath and laugh it off at the same time, asking your next question with a feigned indifference. “There’s gossip in this hotel?”

Geralt’s laugh was infectious. “There’s gossip at every hotel, but this one's something else. I think the vampire is the ring leader. I try to stay away from it. Keep my head down. Take care of my guests. And I shouldn't have even said that. Please forgive me.”

It was obvious he wasn't going to give up much more information, if he even knew anything specific to begin with. You tried to stifle a yawn, but Geralt noticed and stood up to blow out the candles illuminating the room, leaving one small oil lamp burning. When he returned to bed, you curled up into his warmth. You felt a little bad about imagining it was Walt you were snuggled next to, but it didn’t stop you from drifting asleep with a smile on your face.

You opened your messaging app as you were about to step out of the cafe where you’d gone for a latte the next morning after dropping your bag at home.

sendmeanangel: you’ll never guess who showed up to get coffee this morning 

Bonus Edit: Absolutely GORGEOUS headers made for me by my wonderful friend in fic @geralts-yenn:

Everything HC Taglist: (as always, let me know if you want on or off)

@sillyrabbit81 @mayloma @geralts-yenn @raccoon-eyed-rebel @fvckinghenrycavill @kebabgirl67 @beck07990 @itsrubberbisquit @sweetdreamsofgelato @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @alexakeyloveloki @marantha @aireraume @angelmather1 @lizzystuffsthings @enchantedbytomandhenry @omgkatinka @littlefreya @avengersfan25 @just-chirpin @thesaucynomad @valacirca @henryownsme @summersong69 @foxyjwls007 @peyton-warren @irishavengersassemble @brattymum96

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[justcallmefox89]

Gale and the Gith: Chapter Fourteen - Inferior Part V

Nothing is as it seems.

Gale huffs, glancing over at the portal for the tenth time in as many minutes, then resumes his pacing.  Lae’zel and Astarion exchange a brief glance but otherwise leave the wizard to his thoughts.

It’s taking too long.  Why did I agree to let him go in alone?  Stupid, stupid, stu-

The portal flashes and X’aa’nath tumbles through, wild-eyed and breathing harshly.  Gale rushes to him, catching him by the shoulders and helping him stay upright.

“Kin!  Have you done it?  Have you killed our Queen’s enemy?”

X’aa’nath flinches, a barely noticeable thing Gale only catches because of how close they are.  He quickly straightens up and faces Lae’zel.  “I tried, kin. I tried… but the target is unkillable.”

Surprise, then anger flickers across Lae’zel’s face.  “Unkillable?  I don’t believe you – show me your mind.”

X’aa’nath looks like he wants to protest, but he relents, and slowly his unconsciousness unfurls, allowing the other three into his mind. 

“I may have made a mistake trusting you.  I told you to stay away from the githyanki.  But you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”  X’aa’nath’s dream visitor, a handsome elven warrior, turns to face him.  “And now you’ve come to murder me.”

“My kin offer me cleansing!  And my Queen has told me who you really are – an agent of the Illithid Grand Design.”

“I told you I stole the artefact from someone- well, I stole it from Vlaakith.  Since then she has become desperate.”

X’aa’nath scowls.  “So you admit to stealing from my Queen as well.  Why should I not kill you where you stand?”

“Vlaakith wants me dead because I know her secret,” the dream visitor protests.  “It is a secret so great that if your people ever found out, that would be the end of her rule, the end of her.  That same secret is how I have been protecting you from the Absolute.” 

X’aa’nath frowns, shaking his head slightly.

“I can hear your thoughts.  You think I’m lying.  Vlaakith warned you that I would try to deceive you.  But consider this – what reason do I have to deceive you?  I want the same thing as you do – freedom.  I am on your side.  I have been from the very beginning.”

“No!  Do not try to trick me.  Vlaakith does not lie to her faithful!”

The dream visitor draws his sword and kneels, offering his weapon to X’aa’nath.  “I already told you I protect you, that I saved you.  That I’m just like you.  If this is not enough to convince you, what more is there to say?”

“I am githyanki,” X’aa’nath snarls, snatching the sword out of his dream visitor’s hands.  “I am nothing like you.  I am loyal to my Queen.  I will bring her your head and be blessed with ascension.”

With no further hesitation X’aa’nath thrusts the sword through the dream visitor’s chest.  Blood pours from the wound and the dream visitor gasps in pain.

“I really though you wouldn’t,” he grinds out.  “We could have been so much more.  But you had to choose this.”

The dream visitor fades from existence, then quickly reappears, completely healed and glaring at X’aa’nath.

“So you are not to be trusted.”

The sorcerer stumbles back, shaking his head and staring in shock.

“I don’t intend to make a habit of conversing with my killer, so I will be brief.  Your survival depends on mine, and mine on yours.  It is less than ideal, but it is where we stand.  I know a secret that Vlaakith never wants to be revealed.  It is the reason that she mobilized her people to retrieve the Astral Prism.  It is why she sent you to kill me.  And why she will kill you once you leave this place.  Since we are both dependent on your ability to survive that, you would do well to remember that without me, you would become a mind flayer.”    

“Lies!” X’aa’nath cries out.  “You know nothing of my Queen!”

The dream visitor sneers and rolls his eyes.  “Leave.  I have a battle to return to.”

He waves his hand and X’aa’nath is thrown back through the portal.

Gale blinks, dazed as he withdraws from X’aa’nath’s memory.

Lae’zel scowls.  “Vlaakith tavki na’zin!  I see – only madness.  My Queen knows my faith.  She would never condemn me.  But you… you have failed her.”

X’aa’nath’s eyes widen.  “No, kin!  I did as Vlaakith commanded; you saw the truth of it!”

“I should have been the one to go,” she growls.  “I knew you could not be trusted with this.”

“Kin…?” X’aa’nath voice is small and unsure.

Lae’zel’s hand whips up and strikes X’aa’nath’s face with a sharp crack.  “You are not my kin.  You are not githyanki.  You are the unwanted one… and you will always be other.” 

A soft sound breaks in X’aa’nath’s throat, but otherwise he stands stoically in the face of Lae’zel’s condemnation.  The red imprint of her hand blooms across his right cheek, standing out starkly against the pale gold of his skin. 

Gale steps closer to him, attempting to be a reassuring presence without overwhelming the skittish sorcerer.

“Enough, Lae’zel!” Astarion snaps, stepping between the two gith, casting a slightly worried look toward X’aa’nath.

The younger gith avoids the vampire’s eyes, resolutely looking out at the broken rocks and gleaming stars as they drift by. 

“Yes,” Lae’zel agrees.  “We must go to the ch’r’rai.  He will summon Vlaakith – she must know of this… this apostate.”

W’wargaz is waiting for them as they exit the planecaster, surrounded by a group of warriors.   “Lae’zel – I have been waiting.  You are named hshar’lak.  Bend your head, for my blade is ready.”

“Ch’r’rai please summon Vlaakith!” she cries.  “There is much she needs to be told!”

“She speaks truth, ch’r’rai!” X’aa’nath adds.  “Please, allow us to explain.”

“She already knows of your failure, ghaik wretch,” W’wargaz sniffs disdainfully.  “The queen has spoken – her death is decreed and yours will follow.  You have shamed Khou’zal for the last time.”

Gale shoulders sag as the realization hits him; no matter the outcome of their trip to the Astral Plane, Vlaakith had no intention of letting any of them live.  From the look on Astarion’s face, Gale surmises he has reached the same conclusion. 

The faint hint of burning ozone fills the air and a brief touch of static caresses Gale’s exposed skin, sending a shiver crawling up his spine.  He sucks in a deep breath as X’aa’nath takes a protective stance in front of his party members, his skin rippling with lightening he’s barely able to contain.

X’aa’nath grins maniacally as he stares down the ch’r’rai.  “You want my head W’wargaz?  Come and get it.  Htak’a!”

He launches himself at W’wargaz and chaos erupts.

[slashmagpie]

Blood & Snow

Pt. IV

Directory: {Pt. I} {Pt. II} {Pt. III} {Pt. V} {Pt. VI} {Pt. VII} {AO3}

Day four for @hermithorrorweek! This is the longest chapter in this fic and completely got away from me lmao. I hope you all enjoy it. TWs for this chapter include: violence, gore, possession, non-consensual body modification*, temporary character death?

IV. TAKEN OVER

“So what you’re saying,” Cub says, “is that the dungeon… ate Tango?”

The seven of them are sitting in a makeshift circle of chairs in the waiting room. Well—most of them. Scar’s in his wheelchair, rolling back and forth in that way he only does when he’s particularly anxious, and Gem is hopping around the outside of the circle, too full of energy to sit still. Bdubs is a shade paler than usual, fingers buried deep in the moss of his cloak, his chair pushed as close to Scar as he can manage. Pearl is sitting on his other side, a frown on her face as she glances around the circle. Then there’s Cub, and beside him, Etho and Hypno, both of them evidently as concerned by this development as he is.

“Or—something,” Bdubs says, uncomfortable but not quite grumbling. “It’s like—everything’s covered in his soul.”

“His soul,” Etho echoes, sceptically.

“His soul, his consciousness, his self, whatever you wanna call it! But it’s everywhere.” 

“I dunno, Bdubs, that sounds pretty…”

“Ridiculous?” Bdubs snaps. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it! But it’s real.”

“And the dungeon has flesh now,” Scar adds. “And it breathes. It’s really freaky! And I can’t find Tango anywhere.”

“I found him,” Bdubs says. “It was dark. He said he was in ‘the one place you can’t reach.’ Any ideas what that means?”

There’s a long, drawn-out pause.

“I mean…” says Cub. “There’s really only one place, isn’t there?”

“Where?” Scar asks.

“The Burning Dark.”

There’s another long, long pause.

“You mean level four,” Hypno clarifies.

“Well, it is the one place we can’t get to,” Cub points out. 

“You want someone to get down to level four. To find Tango. Without dying. When it’s not even open?” Etho says, staring at him.

Cub shrugs. “Anyone have any better ideas?”

They don’t.

“Tango’s going to kill me,” Etho wails.

“Wait, who said anything about you being the one to do it?” Hypno says. 

“Well—I mean, I thought…” Etho trails off awkwardly, shrugging. “Since I’m the best player, and all…”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Hypno says with a huff. “I mean, me and Cub are pretty good at this, too!”

“Well, I mean, if you two want to do it, be my guest. Are your decks big enough?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“We could all do it,” Cub suggests.

They turn to stare at him. “What?”

“Well… it’s not like it’s a proper run, anyway. We’re not trying to get an artefact—we’re trying to get Tango. If we combine our decks, go in together… We might have a better chance of at least one of us making it.”

The two of them consider it. “It could work,” Hypno admits. “Wouldn’t it cause a lot of clank, though?” 

“Well, then we sacrifice Etho to the Vex and keep on running.”

“Hey!”

“Sure. We can go in together. Why not?”

“Great. Etho? You in, man?”

Etho sighs. “Fine.”

“So that’s the plan?” Pearl says. “We send in the three best players and hope you guys can get him out?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” 

“No, no, it’s fine, I just feel like there’s something more we should be able to do.” She points at herself, Scar, and Bdubs, then waves a vague hand in Gem’s direction. “Right? I don’t wanna be sitting around twiddling my thumbs while you guys are down there.”

“I could try dreaming again?” Bdubs suggests. “Like—I could be down there all invisible helping you guys out.”

“And I’ll be your man in the van!” Scar declares.

“Our… what?” Hypno blinks.

“You know, your man in the van! Like Grian in Phasmo!”

“He means he’s gonna sit out here and not do anything,” Gem cuts in.

“Hey! I’m going to offer my best commentary.”

Etho pulls a face. “Can we pass on that?”

“Okay, so, what about me?” Pearl asks. “What should I do?”

“I know what you can do,” Gem says. 

Pearl turns to look at her. “You do?”

“Sure.”

Cub glances up at Gem, and instantly his senses tell him that something is wrong. He can’t quite put his finger on it—is it that she’s suddenly stiller than usual? The way her fingers twitch towards the sword sheathed at her hip? The stony look in her eye, the smile stretching eerily across her mouth?

Before he can figure it out, Gem answers the question with, “You can stop me.”

Her sword is out before anyone can say anything to that, coming down on Bdubs’ shoulder and splitting him in two. Bdubs respawns in the bed across the room with a cry, his body dissolving into golden and green light that soaks into Gem’s skin as she laughs and wipes the blood from her skirt. Cub is on his feet in a matter of seconds, pulling his own weapon and shield, as the rest of their little circle scatters apart and away from her. 

“Gem?” Pearl cries, drawing her axe, taking several careful steps back. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, Pearl.” Gem’s smiling, but there’s a note of genuinity in her voice, a slight shake around the edges. “I can’t just let you break the rules!”

“Who died and made you hall monitor?” Scar mutters as he wheels as far back from Gem as he can get.

“Tango,” Gem says, her breath misting in the air like it’s several degrees colder than the waiting room actually is. “He told me I need to stop you by any means necessary.” She takes a step forward, swinging her sword and letting the tip of it drag across the ground. “And as much as I want to save him, well… Any means necessary it is. Unless... you stop me.” She steps just into Pearl’s personal space. Cub watches as frost begins to creep over the tip of Pearl’s nose.

“The dungeon ate you too,” he realises.

Gem grins with too-sharp teeth and swings her sword upwards.

“Run!” Pearl cries, parrying it with the blade of her axe. “Go, go!”

“You heard her!” Etho says, and then he and Hypno are running, leaving Cub watching the fight unfolding.

“Cub, what are you doing?” Hypno cries. “Come on!”

Cub should run, is the thing, should join them in their trip down. He knows it, right down to the itch in his skin that begs him to move. But that’s the problem—there’s an itch that makes him want to move. A foreign presence too familiar to not recognise, blue veins stretching across his skin, the voice different but the motive all the same.

Go with them, begs the skulk, begs the dungeon, and Cub looks at the ferocity with which Gem fights and feels an inkling of fear in the back of his brain.

The dungeon ate Tango. It’s eating Gem.

…What happens when it eats me, too?

“Cub! We’re gonna go without you!” Etho cries, and the skulk screams, and Cub flinches away from the fight and towards his friends.

“Sorry! Coming!” he cries, and races towards the drop-down into the hall below.

“Dude, for a moment, we thought you weren’t gonna come,” Hypno says. “Thought you were gonna leave us out to dry.”

“Nah, man,” Cub says, shoving his blue-coated hands in his pockets, trying not to squirm. “I’m with you, I’m with you.”

“Right. Everyone get their decks and meet back here,” Hypno says. “Who’s paying?”

There’s a long pause.

“Well, you know, I got the least shards…” Etho says, shuffling.

“You also have the best win rate.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

“I’ll pay,” Cub says. “I’m sure Tango will reimburse me, anyway.”

The two of them glance at him. “Oh, okay. Thanks, Cub.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Cub smiles at them. “I just wanna get down there as fast as possible. Speedrun, come on. Let’s get our decks.”

----

It’s weird, going in with three people: first they sort through their cards, try to figure out the best way to build their individual deck into one larger one, bicker about getting the correct cards back at the end of the day. Then they have to decide—well, it isn’t a real run, so is it worth taking their armour in? What about food? Would taking a sword to a ravager be a smart move, or a particularly stupid one?

Some part of Cub—a part that he’s not too keen on inspecting—recoils at the idea of cheating to such an extent, and he tells the others so. They agree—a little reluctantly, maybe, but he thinks they all feel uneasy at the idea of angering the dungeon, when it’s already in Gem trying to tear Pearl apart upstairs, and it’s already got Tango trapped somewhere deep within its depths. So: no armour, no food, no weapons. Just the three of them, and their frankenstein deck, and all the wits they have about them.

Man, Cub just hopes they aren’t making a mistake.

“Shotgun!” Hypno calls as he hops in the minecart. Cub hops onto the back of the minecart, arms around Hypno’s shoulders and feet firmly planted on the transom at the minecart’s rear. 

“Sorry, Etho,” he says with a faux-sheepish, not at all apologetic smile at the third member of their party. “Guess you’ll have to walk.”

“Oh, no, I can fit,” Etho says, and promptly throws himself into Hypno’s lap.

Hypno yelps. “Dude!”

“What?” Etho bats his eyes innocently, but Cub will bet anything that there’s a smirk beneath that mask of his. “Are we ready to go?”

“I guess,” Hypno grumbles, wincing as Etho repositions himself in the cart.

“Press the button, let’s go,” Cub says.

“Pressing the button!” Etho says, reaching up to hit it and then ducking his head to avoid hitting it on the low ceiling of the tunnel.

The minecart ride takes an age, and yet takes no time at all: the air turns frigid around them as they descend down into the depths, and Cub gets a sense of what Scar had been talking about, the feeling of being surrounded by something alive. He tightens his grip on Hypno’s shoulders, sucks in a steadying breath—

And then falls in a heap on top of the other two as they’re all forcibly ejected from the minecart into the same space.

“Oww…”

“Ugh.”

“Welp.” Cub stands and shoves his hands in his pocket. “Better not do that again.”

“Trust me, I’m not planning on it,” Hypno grouses. “Who wants the map?”

“You can take it man, I don’t mind,” Cub says. “Just keep us updated on the card count.”

“Got it.” Hypno picks up the map, leaving the compass floating behind in the entryway as he heads towards the door. “Okay, what’s the game plan?”

“Split up and look for a key?” Etho suggests. 

“Won’t that just build up clank?” Hypno shoots back.

“EVASION,” bellows the dungeon.

“...Well, that answers that question,” Cub says, following the two of them down into the ice tunnels. “Anyone know where the ravagers are?”

“Not a clue,” Hypno says.

“Hopefully Tango will be nice to us,” Etho says. “Right, guys?”

“...Well, we can certainly hope,” Cub says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

His fingers close on the cold heavy compass shell that he did not put in there.

“Alright,” Hypno says as they make it to the circle. “Who’s going where?”

“I’ll go up the right tunnel!” Etho volunteers immediately.

“I’ll take the left,” Cub offers.

“And I’ll take the crypt, then,” Hypno says. “Okay. Use your comms—message if you have a key and we’ll meet at the kneeling man.”

“Gotcha,” Cub says, and with that they’re off. 

There’s nothing by the TNT pond, and only a few coins in the treasure spot on the leftmost tunnel. He snags some berries and hops across the dripstone, pausing in the opening of the tunnel as he hears the distinctive huff of a ravager. He presses himself to the wall, and feels the wall shudder behind him, not quite solid. He freezes and, slowly, reaches back to press his hand into it. 

The skulk that’s eaten into his fingers shivers, and like recognises like, and the cold surface of ice and stone feels almost warm.

Like frostbite, Cub thinks, almost absently. He feels warm, but he’s cold. His breath mists in the chill air.

Without thinking, he steps out into the path of a ravager. 

He blinks at the ravager. It blinks back at him. He can see his silhouette reflected in its eyes. 

“Hey, man,” Cub greets. “Are we gonna be cool about this? Great, thanks man. Knew I could count on you.” 

He can feel the dungeon’s gaze on him as he stares the ravager in the eye. His fingers are black and blue. The cold feels almost cosy. He tightens his fingers around the compass. 

“We’re cool,” he says again, and he’s not talking to the ravager this time. “I’ll get it, don’t you worry.” 

The ravager, slowly, turns and begins to walk away. 

<Hypnotizd> got a key

Cub turns and walks the other way, leaving black and blue footprints in his wake.

-----

Down on level two, there’s more ground to cover. Etho heads towards Rusty’s room. Hypno takes the lava pathway. Cub makes a beeline through mushrooms to the dripleaf parkour.

He finds a key in the amethyst, floating in the water right beneath a ravager’s feet. It watches him docilely as he ducks in and picks it up, leaving with a casual wave. 

The parkour is easy. The lake, even easier. Willie throws a trident, but it feels more like a greeting, an inside joke, than it does a threat. The throw goes wide, anyway. Cub drags himself to shore, shakes off the water like a wet dog, and approaches the barrel.

He sucks in a breath. Tightens his fingers on the compass. Pulls out his communicator with his other hand.

<cubfan135> sorry guys

<cubfan135> gotta do it

<cubfan135> you know how it is

<Hypnotizd> ???

<Etho> cub what are you doing

<Hypnotizd> what

<cubfan135> good luck making it to lvl3

He tucks the device away and opens the barrel, placing the key into the slot. There’s a familiar chime, and then the door opens with the hiss of pistons firing. Cub takes a steadying breath as he steps through the doorway, and finally pulls the compass from his pocket.

His hand is fully covered in skulk, the veins rotting their way into his flesh, inseparable from his skin without carving them out. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling. More skulk-spots dot the surface of the compass, but he can still see the needle through them. Can still see the inscription, telling him to go deeper into the dungeon.

And so Cub goes.

He doesn’t bother crouching. Level three goes so much quicker when you don’t have to worry about being quiet, when you know that even if the wardens do hear you, they won’t care. The skulk sloughs from his legs, leaving sticky trails of fungal soul rot behind him. He can feel it creeping up his spine, weaving into the cracks between the bones. The dungeon is dark, and he can’t tell if it’s because he’s got rot in his eyes, or because he’s close enough to a warden for the blindness to take effect. He supposes it doesn’t really matter. He knows where he’s going anyway, the skulk veins in his nervous system controlling his legs so that he doesn’t have to.

Hm. It must be in his brain already. If it wasn’t, he’d probably be a lot more panicked about being puppeted like this.

When did it get so bad? He feels like he should have noticed it getting quite this bad sometime before this run. It had started when he’d begun running deadlies, of course, when he’d first touched the skulk and had veins wrap themselves around the tips of his fingers, like recognises like. The rot knows that he’s been a home for it before—knew he would be a home for it again. And Cub had taken that little vein, that infection, back up to the surface, and he’d told it no. Had told it, just for Halloween. Just a costume. He wouldn’t do what he did last time, and overtake the server with mould and decay. He’s not about that, anymore.

And yet, here he is, covered in the stuff, rot in his bones and blood and brain. How had he not noticed? How had nobody noticed?

(He thinks of Gem, perched in the walls, skin turning grey and eyes turning sharp. He thinks of Tango, trapped by his own dungeon, deep within the depths of a cave he’d sacrificed months of his life to. He thinks of run after run, of heart-pounding, adrenaline-rushing fun, of shard-cravings and withdrawal-fever, and he thinks that maybe, maybe he understands.)

(Nobody had wanted to notice, because noticing would have meant having to stop.)

(And nobody wants to stop playing Decked Out.)

Cub comes to a halt as the compass’ needle begins to spin wildly. He takes a few steps back and forth, feeling for the minecart beneath his feet, and drops the compass into the hopper.

A dispenser spits... something back into his hands.

CF135, says the label on the something, but this is not the artefact Cub’s familiar with, not the model rocketship with his name carved into the side. This could barely be called an artefact at all, a bloody and writhing handful of intestine, frozen half-rotted flesh beneath his fingers. He gags, nearly dropping the guts, blood spattering against the skulk that coats his legs and being absorbed into the rot. The guts themselves have spots of skulk-vein spattered across them, barely visible through the red, pulsing blood that drips from them, and they twitch despite clearly being dead, dead, dead.

“What is this?” he cries out to the dungeon. “Why have you given me this?”

Something tugs on his leg. Gently, barely there, and then—

Cub lets out a scream as he’s pulled down through the floor, pain flooding his body as his pelvis hits the hard stone floor. The skulk surges, crawling up his body, consuming all in his wake, tugging him down, down, down. The intestines wrap themselves around his neck, squeezing just tight enough that his limited vision darkens even further, that he panics, before loosening ever so slightly to allow him to gasp. 

Cub wails.

“Hey, no, stop it, I don’t—Tango! Tango, hey, man, please, stop it—!”

The dungeon quivers around him. The skulk slows in its consumption, leaving Cub half-eaten and shaking on the dungeon floor. His chest shudders as he sucks in one breath, and then another.

“That’s it, man,” he manages to choke out through the tears. “We can talk about this, can’t we? I promise—I won’t even try and get you out, if you don’t want me to. I’ll stop the others. Just—don’t do this. Okay?”

Everything is still for a moment. Silent. 

Cub feels a vein of skulk drag itself slowly, comfortingly, across his cheek, leaving a bloom of decay in its wake.

“Cubby,” the dungeon sighs, voice as unfamiliar as the word is familiar, and Cub lets out a sigh of relief.

“Tango! Hey, man. Good to see you, good to see you.” He may be a little delirious, actually, he thinks as he babbles. “Hey, so, you can let me go, yeah? I’ll get out of your hair—or into it if you’d prefer—whatever, man, I’ll do whatever, as long as you let me go. So—we’re good? Yeah?”

The intestines tighten, not enough to choke, but enough to hold. A hug, an embrace, in the only way a dungeon made of rotting flesh knows how. Cub melts into it. He’s in so much pain, is the thing. He’s in so much pain, and he’s so, so cold.

Something yanks on his leg, and a shrieker howls, and the skulk devours, and Cub manages one last cry before he’s pulled down into the dark.

[gvfgal]

Bound- Chapter Ten

Chapter Nine

STRICTLY 18+

A/n: All I can say is buckle up… This is probably my favorite chapter I’ve written so I hope you guys love it as much as I do.

There are also only about 3 chapters left, so be prepared for a wild ride. BUT, enjoy <3

Content Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (f rec.), slight fingering & handjobs, mentions on p in v, teasing, super mushy fluff, heavy angst, arguing, overuse of italicizes and ellipses… srry, lots of stuttering and stammering but there’s a lot of emotions so it’s FINE. 😂

Word Count: 5.9k

Poppy Prescott thought she’d never be able to fall in love again after the death of her high school sweetheart, Brock Lansing. It was part of the reason she decided to move to LA, California boys simply weren’t her type, so she figured there would be less temptation. And she was right, for the most part. She managed to fly under the radar for the first few years, chasing her dreams without the distraction of men. Sometimes her life got lonely, but she figured it was a lot better than trying to fill those empty parts of herself with guys whose names she wouldn’t remember the next morning. In a strange way, it worked for her.

Then one day, on a very rare rainy LA night, at some dimly lit bar, she met Jacob Kiszka.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

November 11, 1972

Los Angeles, California

It had been another failed audition for Poppy, the casting directors labeling her ‘too developed’ for the role she was trying out for. Rejection was to be expected, it was a part of the industry, but this one had her feeling a little more dejected than usual, leaving her to chase her sorrows away in one too many martinis.

She plopped down at the bar and ordered her first drink, eyes scanning the room before they landed on the man beside her, arms folded on the counter top and his head resting on them. There was a half finished glass of whiskey in fron of him, and an ashtray with a cigarette still burning inside of it.

“Long day?” she chuckled, not really expecting to get much of an answer.

Jake slowly lifted his head to look at her, his eyes bloodshot as if he’d been crying, but Poppy wasn’t one to judge, she felt the same way in that moment.

His eyes locked in on his drink, and he quickly knocked back the rest of its contents in one gulp.

“Yeah… somethin’ like that.”

She perked up a bit at the sound of his accent. She hadn’t met anyone from the south out in LA yet, and it already had her clinging to this stranger for some familiarity.

“Well,” she sighed as she pulled her wallet from her purse, “how about a shot on me? I’ve had a pretty shitty day too and I guess it’s true when they say misery loves company.”

He was looking at her like she was crazy, either that or he was trying to bring his vision into focus, but either way, the stupefied look on his face had her holding back her laughter.

“I’m Poppy,” she extended her hand for him to shake, he took it with a loose hand of his own.

“Jake.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

One shot turned to two, and two turned to four, and before either of them could process what was happening, they were back in Jake’s apartment ripping each other’s clothes off.

This was new for Poppy, going home with some handsome stranger in a bar. And she could tell just by the way he carried himself that he was a broken man, but none of that mattered to her.

Jake felt strange yet familiar at the same time, and though he was slightly disconnected the entire time they had sex, she still enjoyed herself. She enjoyed being around him.

They set very clear terms the following morning when they both woke up slightly confused yet completely satisfied.

“Poppy, you seem like a great girl, and I’d love to do… this, again. But I need you to understand that I’m not looking for anything more than… this,” he explained to her as they sat across from each other on his couch, each with a cup of coffee in hand.

Poppy nodded in complete understanding, “me either. This… this is good.”

And it was good, the dynamic served both of them in the ways they needed it to without the complication of a relationship.

But Poppy quickly found that the more time she spent with Jake, the more fond of him she became. They related in ways that neither of them had been able to do with other people in California, and it pushed the limits of their physical relationship, at least on Poppy’s end.

Jake was a great listening ear whenever she needed it, and whenever she had furniture that needed to be assembled or lightbulbs that needed changing, Jake was always the first person she’d call.

And he’d always come through.

And whenever Jake needed it, Poppy was a shoulder to cry on. It took awhile for him to open up, but one night when he showed up to her front door drunk and dazed, he’d spilled everything about his past with you to her.

From then on, he’d talk about you often, and it was present in the way that his eyes lit up whenever your name was mentioned how madly in love he was with you. It showed all over his body, he became a completely different person.

Some nights after they’d finished having sex, Jake passed out from one too many drinks, Poppy would lay there and imagine what it felt like to be loved by Jake.

Really loved by him.

Yes, Poppy liked Jake.

But she never made mention of it, not even once. Yet she knew deep down that if she were to ever fall in love again, it could be with Jacob Kiszka.

The day he left Los Angeles for Montana, she felt like he was taking a piece of her heart with him. But the words he left her with had her feeling more than hopeful.

“If you ever find yourself in Kalispell, give me a visit.”

He kissed her on the top of the head and climbed into his midnight blue truck that she came to love so much.

As she watched his taillights disappear into the distance, it struck her.

When the hell would she be in Kalispell fucking Montana?

For over a year she tossed around the idea of visiting, she really didn't need a reason, did she?

But she also couldn’t show up unannounced… could she?

It took her a total of fourteen months to work up her nerve to make the trip, deciding that she wasn’t going to wait for the opportunity to present itself,

She was going to him.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was after three in the afternoon before either you or Jake stirred.

Jake groaned as he turned over on his back, your limp body flopping back down onto him. Your bodies were sticky with sweat, and the sheet that Jake grabbed at some point during the night clung to you as if it were molded there.

You let out an over dramatic sigh as sleep left you, running a hand down Jake’s chest. Goosebumps rose to the surface of his skin, and you smirked at the feeling.

You stopped for a moment to take him in, his pink lips slightly parted as he slept on. It felt surreal being this close to him again, you spent years missing that feeling; waking up in his arms. You wanted to do it over and over again.

Your head lulled as you lifted it from his shoulder, placing kisses down the front of his body, licking away beads of sweat as you trailed lower.

One of his eyes popped open to look down at you, “mornin’ babydoll.”

“Mmmm, good mornin’,” you purred as you nipped at the small pudge of his lower abdomen.

Your hand found his already hard cock, stroking it languidly as you peered up at him through your eyelashes.

His hips jerked forward at your touch before settling back onto the carpet, a soft grunt escaping his lips.

“Baby, you’ve worn me out,” he chuckled as one of his hands began playing in your hair, “I’m drained. You’ve drained me.”

“Aw that’s too bad,” you teased as you began inching your way down his body, leaving small love bites in your wake, “cause I really, really wanted to taste you again.”

His cock twitched in your palm, and you bit your lip at the sight of the precum leaking from his slit.

“Yeah, you missed me?”

You were face to face with his fully hard erection now, your ass hiked up in the air but still shielded by the sheet.

Jake shuddered as you placed a gentle kiss on his tip, “so much.”

You kissed it again, your hand still stroking him, and his head fell back onto the pillow.

“I can make you cum again… then I can make you breakfast,” you gave another peck, “so you can regain some of your strength. How does that sound?”

“Good, only I think it’s way beyond breakfast time baby,” he mumbled with a smirk as his hand found your hair again.

You giggled loudly, “Okay, fine. I’ll make you lunch, and then maybe we can do it all over again?”

A laughed rumbled up from inside him, “you really are trynna kill me, huh?”

Before you could sink your mouth down on his cock completely, there was a knock at the door.

Jake’s eyes popped back open, looking towards the door then down at you.

He hesitated for a moment, he didn't have to answer the door, did he? He could just ignore whoever it was and let you finish what you so willingly started.

But when another knock sounded off at the door, he knew it’d be no use.

“Shit,” he sighed as he tapped you to roll off of him. He climbed to his feet and began searching for any items of his clothing he could find, being left with only his jeans and crumpled button up shirt.

He swung the door open a little impatiently, but upon seeing who stood on the other side, all the fury left his body.

“Poppy?”

She was smiling up at him sweetly, her bleach blonde hair pulled up into an intricate up do. She had on a floral print dress that clung perfectly to her voluptuous body, her large breasts pushed up on full display.

“Hi Jake.”

He glanced back into the house briefly before closing the door a little tighter, “wh-what are you doin’ here?”

His uneasiness wasn’t missed by Poppy, but she chose to ignore it, hoping that it was just nerves.

“Well you said if I ever found myself in Kalispell to pay you a visit. I mean, I didn’t really find myself here, but I figured I didn’t really need a reason to come see ya,” she chuckled nervously, “I missed you.”

Everything changed when the look on his face registered in her mind. She’d seen that look plenty of times before back in LA. It was the look that only appeared when it came to you.

Poppy took a step back, “it’s her, isn’t it?”

He didn't respond, but that damned look gave away his answer.

“Is she here?”

He nodded, and before he could produce any words, he felt your presence behind him, pulling the door open with a smile.

“Hi.”

Poppy’s eyes were wide when she looked at you, and she felt her heart jolt. You were even more beautiful than Jake described you, and you were glowing.

Because of Jake.

“Um,” Jake cleared his throat, “Poppy, this is y/n. Y/n, this is my good friend Poppy from California.”

“It’s real nice to meet you, Poppy,” you grinned and extended your hand, and after a beat, Poppy did the same.

“I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally meet you,” she spoke sincerely.

Poppy’s hand was soft when you shook it, delicate just like the petal of one. You could tell just from that gesture that you’d like her.

“We were just about to make lunch,” you looked at Jake pointedly, “would you like to join us?”

“Oh, no,” Poppy stammered as she took another step back, “I- I wouldn’t wanna intrude or anything.”

Jake spoke before you could, “you’re never intruding, Poppy, you know that,” he grinned at her warmly.

He pushed the door back further and stepped aside, “come on, join us.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was dusk by the time Jake walked Poppy out, one of his jackets draped over her shoulders as they strolled down the long driveway silently.

None of you could’ve imagined the fun you would have together, talking and laughing like some old friends from childhood.

Poppy watched the way you two interacted the entire time, and she knew that she stood no chance.

She wasn’t upset about it, though, in fact, it was quite the opposite. Seeing the way you and Jake were together led her to believe that some people were just made for each other. Plain and simple. She’d never seen Jake as happy as he was in those several hours, and it confirmed that you were the missing piece in his life.

“You know I get it now, Jake,” Poppy broke the silence as she glanced to look up at him, “why you love her so much. She’s wonderful, better than I would’ve imagined her to be.”

Jake cast his eyes down to the gravel, kicking one of the rocks in his path, guilt pulsing through his body.

“Poppy, look I’m sorry—”

“No,” she grabbed his arm to stop him from walking, making him look directly at her, “no you don’t have to apologize for being in love, Jake. I knew what I signed up for when we started seeing each other. I just thought…” she trailed off, but quickly shook away whatever she was about to say.

“Anyways, it’s fine,” she flung her hand in the air, “I see the way you are when you’re with her. I’ve never seen you so at peace, it really looks good on you.”

Her eyes began to well with tears as she took Jake’s hand in hers, his expression troubled as he stepped closer to her.

“And seeing the two of you gives me hope again. I- I never really thought that falling in love was worth it after Brock died,” she sniffled, wiping at her eyes delicately, “but seeing you two like that, it gives me something to look forward to.”

Jake pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face in the top of her head.

“Thank you for everything, Poppy.”

“No, thank you, Jake.”

They embraced for a moment longer before Poppy pulled away to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Good luck, Jake. And I’m keepin’ this jacket,” she called out as she climbed into her rental car.

“Where are you goin’?”

Poppy shrugged, a broad smile on her face, “I don’t really know, maybe down to one of these bars to pick up a handsome young cowboy.”

Jake chuckled and shook his head, “you be careful out there, Poppy Prescott.”

“Will do… Jacob Kiszka.”

She slammed the door shut and blew him a playful kiss through the window. Jake watched as she drove down his winding driveway and out of sight, and once she was gone, he made his way inside.

You were standing over the sink washing dishes when he entered, your back turned to him as you did so. He stood at the kitchen entrance and admired you, so domestic in a way he hadn’t been able to experience yet, he found himself growing quickly addicted to it.

Finally his feet move towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you on the head in the way he had done to Poppy moments ago, only this one was full of different emotions.

You dropped the pan you were washing and leaned into his embrace, “I like Poppy, she’s a sweet girl.”

Jake sighed, “yeah, she’s great. I think she’s the only reason I didn't completely lose my mind in LA,” he scoffed a bit at that.

A small smile appeared on your face. You didn’t need to know the extent of Jake and Poppy’s relationship, though you had a pretty good idea of what it entailed. But none of that mattered, you’d each found your own ways to cope with the absence of one another, and all that mattered was that you were back now.

You leaned back to graze your lips against his cheek, “well I’m glad you had someone as amazing as her takin’ care of you.”

Jake smirked as he reached to shut the faucet off, returning his hands to your waist.

You knew what he wanted by the way he began leaving wet kisses down the back of your neck, and you moved your hips backwards to meet his growing erection.

“Wanna finish what we started earlier,” you breathed out, continuing to grind your ass against him.

“Hmmm that sure does sound good,” he hummed into your ear, “but I think I have a better idea.”

In one swift movement he spun you around and sat you on the counter behind him, hiking up your skirt and snatching your panties down your legs. You let out a surprised gasp, clutching a hand onto his shoulder tightly to keep your balance.

When he dropped to his knees in front of you, that hand moved to his tangled hair, gripping at the roots as he fanned hot breaths over your pulsing clit.

His eyes found yours briefly, that familiar look of devotion in them before he dived in, his flat tongue lapping at your wet folds.

“Fuck, fuckkk Jake,” you sighed out as you threw your legs over his shoulders.

One of his fingers teased at your hole, dipping in slightly before retreating with your wetness encasing it. The finger reached up blindly in search of your mouth, and you bent at the waist to wrap your tongue around it.

He pulled away from your pussy a panting mess, solely to watch the way you sucked his finger clean.

“I just want you to taste for yourself why I can’t get enough of you.”

Your walls clenched at his words, and as he lowered himself back down, he caught a glimpse of your engagement ring. It twinkled and danced in the light, and while it may have made any other man rethink what he was doing, all it caused Jake to do was hook his arms around your legs, dive back into with new urgency in his movements, and work you to another blissful end.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The next day came and went. You and Jake got up early to climb to the top of the hill he took you to on your first full day there. At the top, you enjoyed a small breakfast that you and Jake threw together for yourselves.

As you climbed back down, a large gray storm cloud rolled over Kalispell, sending a heavy rainfall that didn’t stop for the rest of the day.

You and Jake rushed back to his house, jumping in the shower and making the slowest, sweetest love you had in a long time. He had you pinned flush against the wall, his hips rocking up into yours at a slow clip, whispering ‘I love you’ over and over again, just so you knew he meant it.

He must’ve said it a hundred times before he finished you both off. After that, neither of you felt like doing much of anything, and you’d once again found your favorite spot on the floor in front of his couch, watching old black and white movies as you drained two bottles of wine. You’d stop in between every movie to get a round in.

By nightfall, the heavy rain had calmed to a soft sprinkle, the temperature dropping along with it, and Jake had a fire burning steadily in the fireplace.

Your naked bodies were tangled together as you completely ignored the movie on the TV, opting for conversation.

“I’m tellin’ you, babydoll, the Eiffel Tower at night, it’s like nothin’ I’ve ever seen before. I have to take you some day.”

You took a sip from your glass and nestled yourself closer to him, “I’d love to see it, I bet it’s marvelous.”

He was smiling at you, and he pressed a kiss to your temple, “the only thing that could make it more marvelous is if you were there. I’ll take you, watch.”

You blushed at the sentiment. He’d spent the last hour telling you about all the places he wanted to take you to make up for lost time. Paris, Rome, Ireland, Brazil, they all sounded like a dream, but also so far out of reach.

He opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off by the sound of his home phone ringing from the kitchen. It hardly ever rang unless it was one of his brothers or his parents, so he figured it must’ve been one of them.

“Hang on,” he groaned as you lifted off of his shoulder so he could stand, and he quickly put his sweats back and raced to the kitchen to catch the phone.

“Hello?”

It was quiet for a moment as the person on the other line spoke, you took a casual sip from your wine glass.

“Uhhh, yeah… yes ma’am, she’s here…”

Your head whipped around to look at Jake, and he was already staring at you with wide eyes, and your stomach dropped.

“Yes ma’am… sure… one second.”

He carefully sat the phone down on the counter, taking a few steps away from it, “it’s uh… it’s your mom. She wants to talk to you.”

You were petrified as you stared at him.

Please don’t make me, you begged him with only your eyes, but his only response was a warm smile, already aware of how you were feeling, “it’s fine. You’ll be fine. I’ll step outside to give you some privacy.”

At this point, you were about to beg him verbally not to leave, to stay near for moral support, but he was moving towards the back door without another word.

After another moment, you clambered to your feet, wrapping the blanket snug around your body and reluctantly made your way towards the waiting phone.

You took a deep breath before you brought it to your ear, bracing yourself for what was to come.

“Mama?”

“Hi, baby,” your mother’s soft voice responded. She didn’t seem upset, that was a good sign.

“Ho- how did you find me?”

“Well, I called your house today lookin’ for you. August answered and said that you weren’t there, that you were visiting a friend in Montana. He seemed surprised that you hadn’t mentioned it to me, but I told him it must’ve slipped my mind.”

You let out a sigh of relief, but the relief was short lived as you realized you’d made your mother lie on your behalf.

“But I know you all too well, and I also knew that there was only one person that you would have known in Montana. So after we got off the phone, I called Karen, and she gave me Jacob’s phone number.”

There was a lingering silence that left you wanting to shrink into yourself.

“Y/n, baby, what are you doing?” She sighed finally.

A single tear involuntarily slid down your face, but you wiped it away just as quickly as it appeared.

“ I don’t know, mama. I- I don’t know what I’m doing, I don't know what the hell to do I just… I don't know.” Your composure was crumbling quickly, and you threw an exasperated hand on your face, “I love August, God knows I love August. But when it comes to Jake I just,” you sighed, “you know how it is when it comes to Jake. No matter how hard I try I just can’t forget him. It’s like he’s engraved into my entire body.”

You couldn’t produce the words you wanted to, but there was no need. Like your mom said, she knew you all too well.

“I know, I know. But I also know that this isn’t the right way to do it. How do you think August would fe if he knew what you were really up to out there?”

Oddly enough, you had spent the last few days completely avoiding that thought, it was too painful of an image to paint, and you didn’t want it to tarnish the precious time you were spending with Jake.

“And I may be wrong, but I think he’s a little suspicious. Said he’s hardly heard from you since you’ve been gone, and he thought he heard you call him someone else’s name when you did talk.”

If possible, your stomach begins to turn even more. You took a glance at Jake through the tall glass windows, his back turned to you as he strummed his guitar casually.

“Mama, what do I do?” you whispered as you continued staring at Jake.

“Well,” she began, “I’m not gonna tell you who to choose, that ain’t my decision to make. But you do need to make a decision, the right way. And you aren’t gonna be able to do that hiding in Montana with Jacob.”

You knew she was right, but you also knew what it meant, and that was another thought you found yourself trying to avoid.

“Just come home, baby. We’ll sort it all out, just come back, please.”

The tears were falling one after the other now.

“When were you supposed to fly back?”

“Tomorrow,” you mumbled. You entertained the idea of skipping the flight all together, but the fear of what came with it was enough to make you push it to the back of your mind, a third thought to shun.

“Do me a favor, y/n, and get on that plane tomorrow. I know it’s gonna hurt leaving him behind again, but no one is saying it’s final. You just need to do it—”

“The right way,” you cut her off, your tone sorrowful, “I know.”

She let out another sigh, “I love you, it’ll be alright.”

Your mom always had a way of comforting you rather easily, her words like chicken soup for the soul. But this time around, you weren’t so sure if you believed her, or if those words would be enough to comfort you in the storm you were about to face.

You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone, and you made your way back into the living room in a zombified state. Jake wasn’t far behind you, sliding the patio door open cautiously.

The tears that stained your face worried him, but he swallowed down all his uneasiness.

“Everything alright, babydoll?”

It took you several seconds to look at him, and when you did, catching a good look at his concerned eyes, you could've crumbled right to the floor beneath you.

“Jake,” your voice was a lot squeakier than you wanted it to be, but it was near impossible for you to talk around the rock lodged in your throat, “I- I have to go.”

He shut the patio door behind him as he scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, “go where?”

You sniffled as you pulled the blanket tighter around you, eyes trained to the floor like a child being scolded, “back to Nashville. Back to August.”

A deafening silence took over the room, so dense you could feel it suffocating you. As much as you wanted to look at him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, but you could feel his eyes burning a hole into the top of your head.

He scoffed, shattering the silence, “you’re not serious, are you?”

You watch as one of your tears fell to the wooden floor, then another right behind it, and you said nothing.

“You can’t be serious, y/n,” he was well on his way to shouting now as he began pacing in front of you, “h- how can you do that after everything that’s happened these past few days?”

“Jake I have to go back,” you wept as you began watching him pace, “I can't just… stay here forever.”

There was nothing funny in the moment, but Jake was chuckling to himself in disbelief, shaking his head and running a finger over his beard.

He stopped to look at you, his voice back to its normal volume, “Let me ask you something, y/n. Do you love him?”

Your lower lip quivered as you responded, “yes Jake, I do.”

“As much as you love me?”

Your eyes looked to the ceiling, a scoff passing your lips, “you know I can't answer that.”

Jake’s jaw ticked as you looked back at him, and he shook his head again, “No, you can. You just don't want to. Because if you do, that means you’ll have to face the reality of the situation.”

You could feel your anger beginning to brew inside of you as he spoke to you so flippantly. But even still, all you felt was love when you looked at him.

“I mean come on, babydoll,” he stressed, taking a step towards you, “I love you, and you love me. It’s that simple, so why can’t you stay?”

Your own head shook rapidly, “Jake, it’s much more complicated than that and you know it.”

“Damn it, no it isn’t!” he shouted, his voice booming off the walls of the house.

“Jake, what we did was a mistake.”

Your words made him freeze in place, turning to look at you with so much hurt in his eyes that it worried you. You didn’t want to say that, you weren’t sure if you really meant it, but it was clear in that moment that he wasn’t having a word you were saying, and he clearly didn't understand the seriousness of the situation. They were the only words you could say that would get him to stop.

“Rather you want to accept it or not, I’m engaged. I’m getting fucking married,” even you sounded like you didn’t want to believe it.

“Things are different now, Jake. Me and you, we aren’t the same small town love drunk kids we used to be. You’re a fucking rock start for crying out loud,” you wailed as you gestured to the expansive house you were standing in.

“And we can sit here and play house, and play pretend like everything’s like it used to be, but all we’re doing is fooling ourselves. And the sooner we learn that, the better.”

Your voice was hoarse from shouting, your tears leaving your face stained an angry shade of red. At that point, you knew you were trying to convince yourself that it was all true more than you were trying to convince him, breaking your own heart with your own words.

Jake was staring at you with a blank expression on his face, his jaw clenching and releasing, but when he spoke, his voice was much softer than his expression was, “so you’re really leaving me?”

You wanted to say no, hell no. I could never. I won’t ever. But your mom’s words rang in your head on repeat.

‘Do it the right way.’

Jake sounds crushed, “Babydoll, please, come on. Don’t…” he took a step towards you, but when you took a step away from him, he stopped. Everything stopped.

The world around him stopped spinning, and his pounding heart came to an abrupt stop, only briefly before pulsing to life again. The rhythm was duller than usual.

He nodded his head, “okay.” His eyes lingered on your trembling frame for a moment longer before he whipped around and disappeared in the direction of his bedroom.

Once he was out of your sight, you rushed to retrieve your discarded clothes, dressing yourself with haste before he could return. If he ever returned.

You heard him slamming drawers in his room, and after a minute passed, you hear one final slam, then his feet stomping back towards you. You tugged your jeans on before he reappeared, his face contorted in anger. In his hand was a large stack of postcards bound together by a withering rubber band.

When he reached the coffee table, he tossed the stack down onto it with a thud as his eyes burned into yours.

“The day your dad passed away, it took all my strength not to reach out to you, no matter how bad I wanted to. I wrote down everything I wanted to say to you on a post card, and from then on, every time I waned to say something to you, I’d write it down.”

He jabbed his finger down at the stack, his chest heaving, “you read those letters and tell me if you think you’re making the right decision.” He left you with nothing more as he stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a half empty bottle of whiskey and made his way back to the back porch, his anger too large for the room he was standing in.

You looked down at the postcards for so long you began to zone out, before you snapped back into reality, snatching up the stack as your body began mechanically moving towards the guest room.

The first thing you did was call a cab on the guest room phone, then you hastily began packing your suitcase. Your vision was blurred from your tears as you crammed clothes and shoes into the bag, not caring that it was unorganized, it was the least of your worries.

This heartbreak seemed to hurt a lot more than the first, and you continued to sob as you prepared to do the last thing you ever wanted to do; leave behind Jake again.

But you had to, it was the right thing to do. You’d spent enough time in dreamland, it was time to return to reality.

The cold, ugly, dismal reality.

The stack of letters were the last thing to go into your suitcase, and once you were finished packing, you made your way back into the living room. Jake was sitting on the couch with his bottle of whiskey, staring in your direction as you came into view. You stopped at the end of the hallway staring back, your knuckles lightening from the grip you had on your suitcase handle.

“Y/n…” he began, a hint of warning in his tone, “I hope you know that if you walk out that door,” he pointed towards it, “you might as well never look back.”

Fresh tears began to spring to your eyes at his harsh words, your lip quivering as you shifted back and forth on your feet.

His stare was intense, so intense it was almost scary. But the moment was broken by the faint sound of tires approaching in the distance.

You took one more good look at him, not knowing the next time you’d see his face. Then with all the strength you could muster, you made your way towards the front door.

The ground was damp as your boots dragged through the gravel, the air still misty.

“Where am I taking you, young lady?” the aging cab driver asked as he took your suitcase from you.

“First motel we get to,” you clipped as you flung the back door open to climb in, “or the second, I don't care. Just get me the hell out of here.”

After getting your bag situated, the driver climbed back into the car with a grunt, starting the meter as he put the car in reverse. Jake was standing on the front porch watching you leave, though all you could see was his silhouette.

Your shoulders shook as a new cry left your body. You realized then, that when you made it back to Tennessee, there would be nothing to ‘sort out’, no decision to be made. You wouldn’t have the chance to search your heart to help make up your mind, because Jake had already made it up for you.

You were going back to Nashville, and you were marrying August Cook.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Chapter Eleven

Taglist: @jakesgrapejuice @fretaganvleet @josh-iamyour-mama @why-ami-on-here @objectsinspvce

[amysterywrappedinanenigma]

Mysterious Benedict Society Episode 7 Liveblog - A Joyful Lens

I wrote this and then completely forgot to come back to it, but here we are, the day before the final episode is dropping. 

Wow, immediate new record for how fast I’ve wanted to punch Curtain. Usually it takes at least a couple minutes but this time it was just. literally the first line. may your tea always be too bitter and scald your fucking tongue. 

HmmmmMMMMMMM MA’AM ARE YOU FAKING YOU’D BETTER BE FAKING

I am staring at Number Two under a microscope rn, ma’am are you okay. 

“Big day tomorrow” pls no that sounded so wrong. I’ve been saying big day today for the past year, and big day tomorrow made me v uncomfortable. 

Tbh I wouldn’t be shocked if Curtain picked up on the fact that there was something in the tea. Not that I think he’s smart enough to pick up on it, but he just seems paranoid enough as a person to notice that something’s off. 

UH OH UH OH UH OH OH NO 

Ughhhhh having such conflicting feelings on number two getting whammied because yes it’s bad but also the things she’s saying are things that Mr. Benedict really needs to hearrrrrrr and things she should have been saying all season but ehhh. Mixed feelings. 

Love Kate and Milligan’s farm system. All of the moments that show how much they’ve built their lives and relationship with one another over the past year really warm my heart. It’s a nice other side to the moments where they’re struggling with their relationship 

RUN SILENT RUN DEEP!!! Thank you for the actual episode title bc I’m still uncomfy over big day tomorrow

But also yeah Milligan, running silent running deep really worked out well for you last time, uh huh, I’m sure it’ll go off without a hitch this time 

Reynie did you really think Kate was going to stay put, I love your confidence in people 

Hey disney I can’t take Reynie and Kate getting whammied too, so keep that in mind pls 

AHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA CRYIJG I’M LAUGHING EO HARD 

THE STRAIGHTJACKETS 

THEIR FACES

THE WAY EVERYONE IS JUST🧍‍♂️

CONSTANCE’S TERRIFYING SMILE 

STICKY IS SO DONE HE LOOKS LIKE HE COULD SET CURTAIN ON FIRE WITH HIS EYES

I’m LAUGHING SO HARD 

Oh my god this feels like a fever dream

J e f f e r s, he’s so proud of himself, you pathetic pathetic man 

Where the fuck did you get straightjackets, Jeffers? Did you go to a store after grabbing them? HAVE YOU BEEN CARRYING THOSE AROUND FOR WEEKS??? 

The way unwhammied Constance would just be biting him. Someone get her some acid for whenever they bring her out of it 

Jeffers of course you don’t know how to take off a straightjacket, can’t you see you’re undercutting Curtain’s reunion with two of his child nemeses? 

CONSTANCE THROWING OFF THE STRAIGHTJACKET LMAOOOOO absolutely iconic 

Shedding it like she’s shedding all the negativity in her life rn. She was in that straightjacket because she chose to be 

Yeah Sticky!!! Get him!! Call him evil!! 

Ew no Curtain you’re not allowed to refer to people as ‘friend’ anymore, I thought we left that behind last season. 

Slightly disappointed we didn’t get Curtain expecting Constance to straight up murder him, but that’s okay 

Wait no. Don’t you fucking dare. 

FIGHT IT STICKY FIGHT IT

DO NOT TAKE STICKY TOO PLEEEEASE 

It’s so much worse because Curtain knows all of Sticky’s insecurities from last season and just. AGHHHH. 

WHY MUST WE ALWAYS CUT OFF BEFORE WE SEE IF THE HYPNOSIS WORKED. I’M TOO STRESSED FOR THIS. 

The Mabel Pines voice is really jumping out now that Number Two is whammied 

Ohhhhhh is number two getting whammied what’s going to knock Mr. Benedict out of the hypnosis??? He’s so worried 

YEAH, KICK!

It’s really interesting that Mr Benedict has been able to have analytical thought about the hypnosis while he’s in it, like “why am i feeling this way, i feel like i should be fighting this” but other people don’t seem to be able to do that. It might just be for story purposes from the writers, but I wonder if there’s an in-universe reason? 

H W A T 

WHY ARE YOU SINGING

OH NOW IT’S BOTH OF THEM 

WHY ARE WE GETTING THIWHQTTHEFUCJ 

This episode is making me question my grasp on reality like none of the other episodes have 

WOLVES CBSHFBSHB absolutely roasted

Hugs! Hugs! Hugs! Mr Benedict finally gets a hug~

“Dressed in the faded rags of a hostage” has the same energy as “the clothes of someone who has given up”. Unintentional jillsoncore

She! Requested! Yellow! 

Kate not knowing what an alpaca is is really good content, thank you disney 

“I know I tease you, Sticky, but the truth is, I enjoy your scientific facts.” Cuteeeeee, I kind of hope once she’s unwhammied she says she meant that even though she was under the happy influence, but she’ll probably just go back to her friendly bullying, which is okay too 

Kate and Constance hug Kate and Constance huggggg <3 <3 <3 

“She’s an absolute pleasure to be around” Sticky nooo, like I totally get it but nooooo 

Oh thank god Sticky didn’t get whammied, I couldn’t have taken that. 

Him doing long division in his head to avoid it is precious, he’s so good. 

Ahhh it is once again cult leader time. Great.  

WAIT IS THAT MISS PERUMAL IN THE BACK 

FEAR FEAR FEAR 

Uh oh Enzo

Oh that was REALLY fast since we saw him get hypnotized by Auguste like 2 episodes ago. I wonder why it seems to happen at different speeds for different people 

Ohhh Curtain seems very shaken by someone else freezing 

Lmaooooo J&J’s little super awkward backwards shuffle with the wheelie chair 

N I C K Y

N I C K Y 

N I C K Y 

RED ALERT 

OOF. 

I’m just buffering over not now nicky 

Okay okay back on track 

The track I’m back on is adoring Miss Perumal

But also no thanks I cannot take the kids realizing their parents have been whammied 

Milligan hugging kate but her expression just stays blank like she’s realizing what has happened uhhhhhh I’m in pain 

Constance is just. vibing. 

Idk if this is intentional but I love the framing of almost never having Constance and the other three in the same frame in this scene, and the only times they’re in the same frame there’s both a lot of distance between them and a tree splitting the frame between them 

No, you DO need Dr. Garrison, because I need the show to bring her back

WAIT YES 

I CALLED IT TWO EPISODES AGO, SOMEONE STOLE THE NOTEBOOK 

I was wrong on who did it, since I had guessed it would be Constance, but I’m still excited 

“Garrison’s proven she can’t be trusted with technology.” HEY. LEAVE MY FAVORITE WOMAN IN STEM ALONE. Haven’t you ever heard of intellectual property?

Uh oh he’s MAD mad 

Lmao at Mr. B poking his head up over the window

But also oof now he knows about the people freezing

Jackson and Jillson I’m so sorry you guys cannot catch a singular break 

Two people I love with all of my soul but also occasionally fear on deep a primal level 

Excuse me Curtain you do NOT get to yell at them 

Add J&J to the list of people who deserve post-Curtain therapy (and also to commit physical violence against him, but that’s a given) 

LMAO the side eye towards frozen Marlon on “current personnel situation” 

I hope Marlon can hear them vagueing him. Get wrecked.

Still going for that promotion, good for you guys 

Curtain put your psych 101 “correlation does not equal causation” away, we all know you don’t have a degree. 

✨Don’t fucking patronize my blorbos✨

Nooooo the way they both kind of just deflated the second he walked out of the room. Every time we see how scared they are of him I get sad™️. 

It’s hard for me not to feel sympathetic for them because it’s framed in a way like they’ve invested so much in him and his methods, and then he’s very threatening and dismissive. 

Someone made a comment last season that was something along the lines of “the girls are fightingggggg” and that’s what I think every time they snipe at each other <3 

MR BENEDICT AND CONSTANCE HUG!!!

Thank god it’s actually him, I got so scared from the post-trailer discussion 

But them them them <3 I’m so glad we got a proper little reunion even though I wish it was longer 

“I’ve successfully stolen several items recently” yeah you have! You’re doing great! 

I really love scenes where we see the talents of the kids being highlighted, I’ve really been missing that this season

The multitool!!!!!! I still think about Milligan saying “I whittled it. :) for the bucket :) 

ASDFGHJKL THE DANCING 

Once again feeling like I’m in a fever dream

We’ve got the dorky dancing and then Miss Perumal still looking absolutely STUNNING no matter what

“Where’s my dad? Let’s start with him” <3 <3 <3 <3 

Still wondering why Mr. Benedict is capable of rational thought about the happiness but other people don’t seem to be. Maybe just a plot hole but hmmm. 

This conversation happening during dancing feels pretty on point for this season

Katie kat! 

Constantly torn between how wholesome the interactions are and being horrified that everyone is hypnotized, but I love Milligan and Kate as always

Kate’s lil smile when Milligan gets mad!!!!!!!

Miss Perumal looking STUNNING as ever, I want to dance with her. If she told me to stay and get whammied I would listen to her

Curtain imposing his fashion crimes on everyone else this season can’t touch her, she’s too perfect

SHE’S. VIBING. 

“Trust me.” “And I do, with my life.” 🥰🥰🥰

J&J y’all need to run, I fear for your safety once number two gets unwhammied 

I’M 

WHAT

THEY JUST

HELP THEY STRAIGHT UP TACKLED HIM 

HELP 

When I said run that is NOT what I meant, but go off I guess uhhhhh

They’ve really been through it this season and I guess this was how those feelings manifested themselves 

Rip Jillson’s shoulder 

It’s all haha funny until I start thinking about the way he was immediately SO concerned for her

“That was an odd impulse!” WEUHFWIUVBS sir you just got tackled 

“She gets a vote now?” Yes she does because she’s perfection personified and everyone needs to respect her more

c o m a e 

Mr B looks :( :( so upset :( and it makes me upset 

Number two definitely meant removing Curtain from his followers when she said the best way to stop a snake is to chop off its head, and totally doesn’t want to physically start removing Curtain’s limbs 

“US” 🥰🥰🥰🥰🎉🎉🎉🎉

Curtain I’m begging you not to look into the camera while doing the hypnosis thing, it’s terrifying 

The facade is once again cracking!!

Gotta have one scene every season where Curtain is losing it in front of a mirror 

FLOWER DELIVERY

Good, get him 

Mr B patting Curtain’s leg when they’re about to drive away is giving me feelings 

I love all of the background interactions between the kids and adults 

YEAH GOOD DESTRUCTION GOOD JOB MILLIGAN 

Tell me why I half expected Jackson and Jillson to both have a sling just to continue the identical vibes 

ALL OF THEM SLEEPING IN THE BACK OF THE TRUCK OHHH FOUND FAMILY FOUND FAMILY FOUND FAMILY 

Wait no no NO NO NO 

Like we knew it was gonna happen but FUCK 

Okay final thoughts: 

Overall, I loved this episode too! I’m finding I’m really liking the later episodes as the plot ramps up and character beats come to a head, but I’ve been enjoying it all. I’m really interested to see how they close things out next episode, and how the hypnosis side effects end up being resolved, especially now that I don’t know if the main group is going to be going back to the compound at all. (J&J call in Garrison please, she can fix this.) And excited to see more character moments especially when people come out of the hypnosis. 

Where we’re at right now has me kind of worried for next episode, but I’m trying to stay optimistic. I feel like there are so many loose threads that need tying up, but with the much shorter episodes this season I’m a little worried things are going to feel really rushed next episode and not have very satisfying closures, or some things are just going to get dropped altogether.

But yes very good episode and I’m both excited for the next episode and already sad the season will be over. 

[elsie--young]

Things To Do in Orlando: A Personal Travel Guide!

Orlando is more than just a city; it’s a playground of endless possibilities. As a traveler, I've always been drawn to the excitement and variety that Orlando offers. But with so many options, deciding what to do can be overwhelming. So, here’s a rundown of the best things to do in Orlando that will make your visit truly unforgettable.

Problem: Feeling Lost in a Sea of Options

Orlando is famous for its theme parks, but there’s so much more to this city than meets the eye. When I first arrived, I was bombarded with choices. Do I spend my days riding roller coasters, or should I explore the city’s cultural side? Figuring out the best way to spend my time became a real challenge.

Agitation: The Fear of Missing Out on the Best Experiences

It’s easy to feel anxious when you’re in a city like Orlando. The fear of missing out is real. I didn’t want to return home and feel like I hadn’t experienced the best of what Orlando has to offer. So, I started to dig deeper, looking for the best spots that would give me a real taste of the city.

Solution: My Top Picks for Things To Do in Orlando

Here’s what I found to be the most memorable experiences during my time in Orlando:

1. Explore Walt Disney World Resort

Of course, a trip to Orlando wouldn’t be complete without visiting Walt Disney World. This massive complex, which spans 25,000 acres, includes four theme parks: Magic Kingdom, Epcot, Disney's Hollywood Studios, and Disney's Animal Kingdom. My favorite was Epcot, where I could explore different cultures and cuisines in the World Showcase. A single-day ticket costs around $109, but it’s worth every penny for the experience. If you’re like me and enjoy a mix of adventure and nostalgia, this is a must.

2. Dive into Universal Studios Orlando

Universal Studios is another Orlando staple. What I loved most was The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Walking through Diagon Alley and sipping on butterbeer was like stepping into the pages of my favorite book. A two-park pass costs about $164, allowing you to visit both Universal Studios Florida and Islands of Adventure. The rides, the atmosphere, and the energy here are incredible, especially for movie buffs.

3. Visit the Kennedy Space Center

About an hour’s drive from Orlando, the Kennedy Space Center offers a different kind of thrill. As a space enthusiast, this was a dream come true. The center provides a comprehensive look at NASA’s history and future missions. I spent nearly five hours here, marveling at the Space Shuttle Atlantis and the Apollo/Saturn V Center. Tickets are $75 for adults, but there are often deals online.

4. Explore the Orlando Science Center

For something a bit more educational, the Orlando Science Center is a great choice. This four-story science museum has interactive exhibits on everything from dinosaurs to the human body. I found it perfect for a rainy day, and it’s a great spot if you’re traveling with kids. Entry costs $21 for adults and offers a chance to learn while having fun.

5. Stroll Around Lake Eola Park

When I needed a break from the excitement, Lake Eola Park in downtown Orlando was the perfect escape. The lake is about a mile around, making it a peaceful spot for a morning jog or an afternoon paddleboat ride. It’s also home to the iconic swan boats, which rent for $15 for a half-hour. The park is free to enter and offers a quieter side of the city.

Conclusion: Making the Most of Your Orlando Trip

Orlando is a city that caters to all types of travelers. Whether you're an adrenaline junkie, a history buff, or someone who just wants to relax, there's something for everyone. By following this guide, you'll discover the things to do in Orlando that suit your travel style and make the most of your visit. So pack your bags, plan your itinerary, and get ready to explore all that Orlando has to offer!

[lord-tekron]

Another day, another Behind the Scenes regarding The Springlock Paradox

Felt in the mood to do some ramblings, and given how we’ve talked about The Puppets, we went into the History of The Afton Bots, and we went into the logic behind Dave Miller and ya boi Springtrap. I think we should turn our attention from all of that towards the most newest (kinda) character introduced, Henry Fredburn.

---

But first, we need to address something, and it is going to be a bit “meta” (I think anyways, basically a buzzword that means nothing nowadays). But this post is gonna serve secondary purpose. See I finally got around towards breaking my silence and attempting to reuse the Freddit Discord, more specifically the fanon channel. 

Naturally, this will be shared there once everything is written and explained, but it will also double as a way to share The Springlock Paradox to those people without spamming the channel and basically making it all about me. Which is the reason why I was so hesitant to use it for so long, when you got 50+ chapters under your belt and so much you wanna ramble about, you can easily hog the spotlight. And it would be wrong to casually punt away the others that wanna share their ideas and AUs. So this is a sorta workaround to make a best of both worlds scenario (in theory anyhow)

So, hello you select few that looked at that link and have clicked it! I welcome you to the madhouse. Here is the chapter selection of all currently available chapters of The Springlock Paradox that have been made over the last five years. https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1PQzyf1HbuALjm4ZNVWrGgoHZxu9Qr47f

You can read them if you want, you can not read them, you can read the other behind the scenes posts I shared links to in that first paragraph, you can also not. I will not force you to do so, but do be wary that this stuff is gonna rot your mind from raw confusion if you ain’t ready. With that being said, let’s ACTUALLY now talk about Henry.

---

So, let’s first talk about “Why bring Henry back?”, and there are two main reasons. First is because it would be interesting story wise, having him come back after both his ending of FFPS and after all that happened in the first Arc/Saga would dynamics and let me play off characters interacting with this face that is both new and old at the same time.

The second reason, is that it is REALLY fun to bully Henry. Because Scott gave him this grand finale at FFPS, and then five seconds later went and said “Nah that didn’t happen anymore.” (I know there is technicalities all over the place cause of The Mimic but honestly the books make my head hurt). Also because he forced his daughter into being a furry and then tried to sell her for $5, to which I constantly made the joke of him being a “Bad Dad”. I make fun of Henry as much as I make Michael the punchbag in TSP. So it was time we brought him into the mix so the bullying can continue. :V

Now for his design. One thing I wanted was for him to have an inverse color scheme of Dave. Where Dave had a purple suit with a yellow head, Henry would have a yellowish suit with his skull having a purple aura to it.

 Likewise, I had to ensure that the audience was aware that all that was left of Henry’s corpse was his charred skull. So of course we had Springtrap find and display Henry’s skull so he could mock it.

I also had to hide the idea of Henry coming back by making it so he wouldn’t wake up from the ample remnant around. 

Course he would come back, but through alternate means, hence showing the dream/flashback to where he first encountered Ekana

The next quest was to ask “how do we write him?” And the answer was pretty obvious; he is a man that just wants to finally do what he tried to end... Only to be completely bamboozled and confused by everything around him given how little he actually knows about what is going on. I mean, think about it; There are two puppets that ended up reproducing, the person he will think is William is instead his son, the person who killed his daughter is a pile of goo that is now on good terms with said daughter, both magic and alternate dimensions exist, not to mention the fucking mushroom people and SOULDOZER being around. He is basically a person knowing nothing about The Springlock Paradox encountering the ramblings I talk about out of context. He is the outside eyes looking in and has no idea what to make of all of this.

But let it be known that while I am mean to the man, I won’t be cruel. He did reunite with his daughter after all this time. And he also ain’t no pushover either, he has shown in the few chapters that he can throw down. And trust me, he is gonna pull his weight in upcoming chapters... At least he will in my eyes to justify future bullying on him. :V

---

And yeah, that is about it for this Behind the Scene talk, granted a chunk of it was to ramble about that freddit discord stuff, but it was something I wanted to talk about nevertheless. Alot of my focus is gonna be on Artfight this month so don’t be surprised if the next Chapter doesn’t get completed anytime soon. Will do pages when I have the time to, but most of it will be on Artfight. See you all next time I decide to spam a wall of text that you have to either read or scroll past.

[futuraequeen]

@magiciitself :  { continued }

Leaning against the counter, Arwen took her best to hold back a sigh. Her six months were almost over, she had to make a decision. Does she stay or go? Considering how her and Merlin are fighting, maybe it was better to go. “I never said that.” After staying here, she couldn’t do that to Hunter. She wouldn’t deny Hunter the chance to see his father. “He might and I’ll deal with that when that day comes.” This is why she want to go. It’s comments like this that didn’t help matters. “One fight? It’s not just one fight. Its been weeks and weeks of you making snide comments at me. Like I don’t already feel guilty enough for everything.”

[ktwritesstuff]

Kashmir (a stranger things fanfic)

Title: Kashmir Fandom: Stranger Things Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Eddie x plus-size femme reader Word Count: ~5000 Summary: First time with Eddie. Lovingly beta-read by @bs-fangirl. Additional notes, tropes, and content warning below the cut.

Notes: Our beloved Eddie was taken from us too soon (and in my personal opinion a victim of regular old bad writing). I could not sit idly by and let our boy die a virgin so here you have it: a soft and sensual first time fic; explicit but not too kinky. Tropes & Content Warnings: anti-fatness (alluded to,) first time, love bites, oral (cunnilingus,) orgasm denial, p-in-v, thigh-riding, witchy shit

Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face / And stars fill my dream I'm a traveler of both time and space / To be where I have been

You assumed–perhaps naively–that Eddie kept a condom in his wallet for the same reason you always carried a tampon: because you never know.  That was really the theme of the year, after all.

Like that guy Billy Hargrove–an absolute Neanderthal for the short time you had known him–dying last summer saving a bunch of kids from that horrific Starcourt Mall fire, which was both utterly tragic and completely fucking weird.  But all the more reason to seize the day–life was short–and you wanted to lay down your v-card before it was too late.  

You and Eddie had been “official” for almost a year.  Even longer if you counted the time you made out in Reefer Rick’s boathouse when the whole Hellfire Club tried acid after Eddie failed his senior year the first go-round.  (Eddie usually did, but you insisted the relationship actually started when he finally asked you on a proper date.)   Even though you didn’t know what would happen after graduating, you trusted Eddie more than anyone; it just felt right.  

There was a lunar eclipse coming–a blood moon–Eddie promised to take you to an out-of-the-way spot he knew where you could moon-gaze in peace.   You had read every pulp romance in the library; you were as ready as you’d ever be.  This was your moment.  You hadn’t told Eddie explicitly that you had christened him The Chosen One to finally divest you of your maidenhead, but you had certainly left him a trail of breadcrumbs.  

Last week when you snuck out to the picnic table in the woods behind the football field between periods to make out.  You hiked up your skirt and straddled his thigh, grinding against him and moaning in his ear as he peppered your neck with kisses and gentle love-bites.

“Feels good, mama?”  Eddie murmured in your ear.  You panted something approximating agreement as you rocked against him.  

Eddie had one hand on your back, the other gripping the meat of your ass–you could feel his rings leaving indents in your soft skin.  Their mate was safely nestled between your breasts, hanging from the leather chord you wore around your neck.  You probably could have worn it on a finger, Eddie’s fingers weren’t much bigger than yours, but wearing it around your neck felt more feminine and special.  

You sealed your mouth over his.  You could feel his hard on pressing against your leg where it was tucked between his and traced circles against him with your knee to see how far he’d let you go.

“Careful,” he warned, patting your leg between soft, wet kisses.  “If I cream my pants, I’m gonna miss Zelinsky’s big test and wouldn’t it be tragic for me to be cramming for my GED next year without you.”

You sighed, sitting back, making some space between your bodies.  Eddie laughed, noticing the dark patch you had left in the torn denim of his jeans.  

“Are you marking your territory?”  

You grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket, pulling him closer with a sharp tug.  A growl rumbled in your chest as you snapped at him, baring your teeth like a wild thing.

“Point taken,” Eddie cleared his throat.  “Left leg.  All yours.”

On the big night, you left your parents a vague note that you were staying over with a friend and Eddie picked you up in his beat up Chevy van.  After a quick stop for gas and snacks, the two of you drove just outside of Hawkins, up the big hill overlooking Lover’s Lake.  For a spot that was mostly used for drug deals, it was actually kind of nice.  

Eddie cut off the lights but left the radio on as you opened the back doors of the van, spreading the quilt you had brought out in the back where the bench seats had been unceremoniously ripped out to make room for amps and other equipment for Eddie’s band.    

“So when’s this party getting started?” Eddie asked, looking up at the sky with his hands on his hips.

“We won’t be able to see the total eclipse in this part of the world,” you explained, taking a seat in the back of the van.  

“The Farmer’s Almanac said the moon would be entering umbra around 1 AM our time.  That’s when we’ll start to see the shadow.  As long as these clouds don’t get in the way.”

“We’ve got some time to kill, then,” Eddie said.

He slipped off his leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders like a cape before sitting down beside you on the bumper.  You turned your face into the lapel of the jacket, breathing in the comfortable, familiar scent.  Eddie always smelled faintly of pot and the vanilla extract he dabbed on his wrists to try to cover it up mixed with old leather and clove cigarettes.

At least the stuff he smoked smelled a hell of a lot better than the shit he sold the ramp rats who always stank up the stairwell behind the art room.

You had tried pot a couple of times, but it always seemed to make you more anxious instead of less.  Apparently different strains worked better for different people, but at the end of the day you figured it wasn’t worth burning your throat all to shit to find the right one.  Eddie had offered to make edibles, just as soon as Wayne fixed their oven, but you both knew that was never going to happen. 

“You can smoke if you want,” you said.  “I don’t mind.”    

Eddie shrugged, leaning back on his elbows, legs swinging off the back of the van.  He reached over to brush his fingertips up your arm.

“I’m always high when I’m with you.”

You rolled your eyes and Eddie cracked a smile.

“Cheese-ball.”   

You found your Twizzlers in the convenience store bag and tore open the package. You pinned one between your teeth, letting it hang from the corner of your mouth. Eddie chomped at the air beside your face, trying to catch the long end of the Twizzler while you nibbled it to a smaller and smaller nub.  You giggled as his efforts became more exaggerated and ridiculous.  As you sucked the last piece between your lips, Eddie gave you a soft kiss and put his arm around you. 

You weren’t afraid anymore to say you were built like the noble hobbits, who valued good food and good cheer above recognition and hoarded wealth.  Eddie was taller–but not too tall–all long limbs and sharp angles.  He wore mostly dark colors–heavy jackets and metal jewelry and, while you had certainly relieved him of a few of his more comfortable t-shirts, you still tended to favor a softer look: colorful crystals, lacy shawls, and long skirts in earth-toned florals.   And yet somehow you always fit together: the town freak and the village witch.

“Did you bring your cards?” Eddie asked, leaning back on his elbows.

“Always,” you replied, digging through your bag for your tarot cards wrapped in silk organza. You had carried them everywhere since the day Eddie had given them to you.

You shuffled them deftly, which had taken a great deal of practice for your small hands, and held the deck out to Eddie with one hand.

“Cut.”  

Eddie ran his fingers down the gilded edges of the deck lifting up a stack of cards, holding the bottom card up to face you.  A horned winged figure crouched over a man and woman–who bore a passing resemblance to the Lovers–in chains.  You rolled your eyes.  The Devil.

“I know this guy,” Eddie said, holding the card up to his face and sticking out his tongue.  “You can really see the family resemblance.” 

“Stop it,” you nudged his shoulder playfully.  “The Devil represents the dark parts of our psyche–the things we’re taught to reject or hate about ourselves.  If you try to hide it or push it down, you get stuck, you feel trapped, but if you learn to work with it, you bring your shadow back into the fold.”

You took the cards from Eddie’s hand and began to re-shuffle.

“Is that what they teach you in witch school?” Eddie asked.

“Carl Jung,” you frowned.  “You really did bomb Zelinsky’s test, didn’t you?”

“D+” Eddie rolled his eyes back in his head.  “Would have done better if I wasn’t so distracted.”

Eddie bushed your hair behind your ear and kissed your neck as you shuffled.

You stopped when your intuition told you it was time and lifted the top card off the deck.  Another of the major arcana, number 13: Death.  This time Eddie burst into laughter.

“What the fuck is wrong with us,” he said, leaning into you.    

“Nothing,” you said.  “It’s not literally Death.  It’s about change, transformation, letting something go, so something else can take its place. I love this card.” 

You held the card out in the hazy moonlight, your other hand still resting on Eddie’s head as he leaned his cheek against your bare arm.  You loved being this close to him.  

“You know in D&D, when you have to choose between two paths–the party can’t decide so you flip a coin.  When you see it lands on heads or tails there’s a split second where you feel excited or disappointed and you suddenly know what you wanted to do all along.  It’s the same thing with tarot.  How does it make you feel?  And what are you going to do about it?  The magic is inside you.”

Eddie plucked the card from between your fingers and replaced it on the top of the deck as he pressed his mouth close to your ear.  

“What if I already know what I want,” he murmured.  

From the front of the van an unmistakable guitar riff thrummed through the speakers as Robert Plant crooned.

You liked Eddie’s music, though you were still pretty far from a bona fide metal-head, given that you considered Stevie Nicks a personal style icon and had Rumours on repeat every day after school since 5th grade. Still, there was something undeniable about the electric crescendo of guitars and bass that you could feel tugging in your chest. 

You placed a hand on Eddie’s head as he kneaded your breasts, leaving a trail of kisses down your throat.

“Hey Eddie,” you said, tugging on his shirt to get his attention.  “Eddie.”  

He paused, looking up at you, his eyes a little glassy.  You waited for them to focus on your face.

“Do you want to have sex?”

Eddie blinked, sitting up with a jolt.  “Wait, seriously?  Right now?”

“Yeah,” you stammered. “I mean, not if you don’t want to.  I just thought–”

Eddie raked a hand through his hair, making part of his fringe stand on end.  His formerly languid limbs now vibrating at attention.  

“No, I want to,” he said.  “It’s just…I’ve never…actually gone all the way before.”

“Oh,” your lips parted with a sigh.

You were surprised, but not shocked.  Eddie had been your best friend since freshman year; if there had been someone before you, you probably would have heard about it.  You had put ‘older and more experienced’ on your ‘Pros' list when weighing your options, but now that you were confronted with an alternative, you thought it being both your first times made it even more special.

“Me, too,” you added, encouragingly

“Yeah,” Eddie said, sitting back on his heels, shrinking into himself.  “It’s different for guys, though.  Don’t you think?  I might be bad at it.”

Eddie didn't show vulnerability easily; he was all hard on the outside, soft on the inside. There was something special about him admitting to being unsure. It made you feel even closer to him. 

“You masturbate, right?” you said.  

“That’s a little different, babe,” he said. 

“Yeah, but what do you imagine doing?”

A blush was rising up under the collar of his shirt, turning his ears beet red.

“Do you think about me?” you prompted.  

A little muscle in Eddie’s jaw twitched; that was a yes.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you slid your fingertips down his arm.  “I want to know.  What do you think about?”

Eddie crossed his arms, looking out the darkened window.  You reached out to touch his face, coaxing his gaze back toward you. 

“That we’re in love,” he said.  “Some place nice–not in my shitty van.  That I make you feel good.”

“Oh, Edders,” you took threw your arms around him.  “You really are the sweetest.  I’m happy being here with you–that’s what matters.  And if you want to make me feel good, I can show you how to do that.”

You reached up your long skirt, shimmying out of your underwear and tossing them aside.  Eddie moved between your legs as you laid back on the quilt, supporting yourself on your elbows.  He slid his hands up your legs, gathering your skirt up over your knees.  A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he looked down.  He looked so thoughtful and serious; you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” he said, leaning over, pressing his face close to yours.  “I’m just taking it in.  I fuck this up, I might not get a second chance.”

You could feel his breath on your skin.  You knew Eddie well enough to understand that he was just as hungry for approval and reassurance as everyone else.  You took his chin in your hand.

“Eddie,” you said.  “I want this.  I want you.  And the only way we’re gonna get good at this is if we practice, right?”

Eddie softened against you.

“Here, give me your hand.”

You moved his hand between your thighs, guiding his fingertips between your soft folds to the bundle of nerves at the hood of your clitoris.

“Right here,” you said.  “Make circles right here.”

You sucked in a ragged breath as Eddie traced his fingertips around your clit in slow, careful circles, guitar-string calluses rough against the sensitive nub.

“Is that okay?”  he asked.  

You nodded with a soft moan.  

“Feels good,” you breathed.  “A little more.”

Eddie nodded, biting his lip in concentration, pressing a little harder, a little faster.  You put your arms around him, moving your hands across his back.

“Just like that,” you said, arching into him.  “Don’t stop.”

Eddie relaxed.  His nimble fingers kept up the rhythm as he returned his attention to kissing you under the ear, down your neck.  His free hand slipped under your shirt, sliding up your belly, squeezing the roll of flesh padding your side ribs.  

While the tension coiled like a serpent in your low belly, you did your best to unbuckle Eddie’s belt and open his jeans with shaking hands.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, catching your hand before you could shove it down the front of his underwear.  “Can I go down on you?”

You blinked hard, considering the proposition.

“I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m willing if you are,” Eddie said, punctuating each phrase with kisses across your collarbones.  He paused to look you dead in the eye.

“I want to know how you taste.” 

“Shit; yes!”  you gasped, perhaps a little too enthusiastic. 

Your breath hitched in anticipation as Eddie slid back, lifting your ankles as you settled onto your back.

“There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home,” Eddie chanted, tapping your ankles together above your head. 

“Eddie!” You shrieked with laughter.  “Focus!”

“I am shutting right up,” Eddie agreed, hitching your knees over his shoulders as he lowered himself down between your legs.

He pushed your shirt up under your breasts, placing a trail of kisses across your belly.  

“Shit,” you gasped as he dipped his tongue into your naval.  “That feels weird.”

Eddie paused, resting his chin on your belly as he looked up at you with his giant chocolate-brown eyes.  “Do we like weird?”  

“I think so,” you nodded, placing a hand on his shoulder, steadying yourself.  “It’s kind of intense, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed. “You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

“I will,” you said.  “You too?”

Eddie nodded, pushing himself up enough to kiss the inside of your knee.  His mouth traveled down, opening his lips to press his teeth against your thigh.  His eyes flickered to your face to see if you would protest before he bit down, not hard, but enough to leave an impression in the delicate skin. 

You closed your eyes and took a breath.  Eddie’s van smelled like stale beer and sweat mixed with Tide detergent and your mother’s Calvin Klein perfume still lingering on your old quilt.  Your heart was pounding; it felt like there was electricity buzzing under your skin.  It was all too intoxicating.

Eddie brushed his fingertips along your tiger-stripe stretch marks, holding your hips with his face pressed against your groin, his mouth open, his tongue trailing hot and wet across the underside of your belly, moving lower and lower. 

You reached your hands down his back, feeling his ribcage lift with each inhale.  You gasped as he pressed his tongue into you and barely managed to stop yourself from accidentally boxing his ears with your thighs.  

“Holy shit,” you sighed, running your fingers through Eddie’s hair to ground yourself back into your body .  

You could feel his nose pressed up against your clit as his tongue explored your opening, tentatively at first.  You resisted the urge to pull on his head, needing more.  

“Can you–um–make your tongue wider?” You panted.  You knew it wasn’t much of an instruction, but the sensation changed as Eddie followed your lead.  “And more up and down.”

Eddie hummed an affirmation as his tongue trailed up the expanse of your vulva as you saw stars. 

“Fuck,” you gasped, your head falling back against Eddie’s leather jacket, still bunched up under your head.  “Don’t stop.”

Eddie placed one hand over yours where they were still tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck.

“Sorry!” You loosened your grip, but he wrapped his fingers around yours, closing them tighter.

“Okay,” you agreed, tugging gently.  “Say when?”

You pushed Eddie’s head a little harder against you, carefully watching for signs that he was ready to tap out.  Just when you were having serious concerns over how hard Eddie’s nose was pressed against your pelvic bone, he lifted his other hand to give you a thumbs up.  His tongue moved in long steady strokes over your clit.     

The sensation was incredible.  Even better than you imagined; somehow relaxed and vibrant all at once; the knot of energy coiling tighter and tighter at the base of your spine.  

“Eddie,” you moaned.  “God, that’s good, Eddie.”

“Say that again,” Eddie said, extracting himself from the dense brush padding your mons just enough to be audible.

You smiled to yourself.

“Eddie,” you called, louder this time, your toes curled in excitement.  “I’m close, Eddie.  So fucking close.”  

Eddie hummed against you, sending warm vibrations up the length of your spine.  You squeezed your eyes closed; red sparkles danced behind your eyelids.

“Fuck!  Eddie!”  You let out a long sigh as the bundle of energy in the deepest part of your core finally unfurled.

Eddie popped up from between your thighs like a daisy.  His hair was sticking out at odd angles, a tangled mane around his face; his mouth and chin glistening in the dim light.

“Did I get it?” he asked, eyes wide with excitement.  

“You definitely got it,” you assured him with a laugh, realizing his button nose was bright red and still a little squished.

“First try!”  Eddie pumped his fist triumphantly.

“Come here,” you ordered, grabbing a fist-full of his shirt to pull him up, pressing your mouth over his. 

It was a little surreal, tasting your own salty-sourness on Eddie’s lips and in his mouth.  You felt hot and swollen and wild and strange.  

“I want to do you,” you said, grabbing the waistband of Eddie’s Levis.  “Can I?” 

“It’s, uh, kind of a one-and-done thing on my end,” Eddie cleared his throat.  “At least it takes a bit to get warmed back up for the encore.”

“How long do you think?” you asked, rooting the convenience store bag for a can of soda, cracking it open and taking a long drink to cool your throat.

“Half hour,”  Eddie said. “Maybe a little more.”

You paused to consider.  It really wasn’t that long, after all, you had planned a whole night of star-gazing, but you didn’t want to wait.  You felt ravenous.  

“Thirsty?”  You held your drink out to Eddie.

“Yes, please.”

Eddie took the soda and gulped it down, tossing the empty can aside. 

“Okay,” you sat up, brushing your sweat-damp hair off your face.  “Do you have a condom?”

Eddie nodded 

“I think we should do it,” you said.  “All the way, right?  Let’s just fucking do it.”  

It seemed strange to tip-toe around the words now.  But what were you supposed to call it “real sex?”  As though what Eddie had just done to you, for you didn’t count?  

“I think I’m ready.  I want you inside me.  I’m fucking soaked,” you said.  “Do you need me to do anything for you?”

“You’ve done enough,” Eddie said, pulling you into him by the neck and kissing you hard.  

You giggled against his lips as he toed off his shoes, letting them fall to the ground outside the van doors.

“She’s laughing,” Eddie said, sliding out of his jeans.  “I’m taking off my pants and she’s fucking laughing.”

“I’m happy,” you said.  “I’m laughing because I’m happy!”

Eddie fished his wallet out of his now discarded pants, digging through it for a foil wrapped condom.

“It’s been a good run, buddy,” he announced, tearing it open with his teeth.  “It’s your time.”

Eddie slid his checkered boxers down past his knees to roll on the condom and you stopped to look.  Without much to compare it to, he seemed a respectable size.  Not huge, but that was quite alright with you.  From what you knew about trying to work more than three fingers inside yourself, you had never understood the girls in the locker room proudly declaring that their boyfriends were hung like horses. 

Eddie was your Goldilocks, always just right.  

“Like what you see,” Eddie noticed you watching and pulled a face, hands on his hips, erection bobbing.  “I have to say it’s a titty bit nipply.”    

With anyone but Eddie, you’d be horrified by the showboating and spectacle, but Eddie made everything easier.  

“Can I be on top?” you said.  

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded.  “You got it.”

Eddie exchanged places with you, laying down on the blanket.  Despite his bravado, you could feel him tremble a little as you knelt over him.  

You freed your top from where it was tangled up under your boobs and pulled it off over your head.  

Eddie rested his hands on your thighs, stroking them lightly.  He sighed as you unhooked your bra, sliding the straps off your shoulders and setting it aside.

“Best seat in the house.”

Eddie slipped his little finger through the ring hanging from your necklace and tugged gently, guiding you down into another long kiss. His tongue moving against yours, exploring the roof of your mouth and the insides of your cheeks. 

You reached down between your bodies.  Eddie gasped as your fingers found his cock under the draped fabric of your skirt.  You bit your lip in concentration as you guided him to your entrance and slowly lowered yourself down.

You stopped, feeling a sharp tug.  Your muscles clenched.  You gripped the back of the driver’s seat with one hand and took a deep breath, willing your pelvic floor to relax.

“Here,” you ordered, grabbing one of Eddie’s hands and placing it on your breast.  “Touch me here.”

Eddie let out a low moan, his face scrunched up, cute little wrinkles creasing his nose as he palmed your breasts.

You moved Eddie’s hands as if they were your own, no performance or hesitation, guiding them over your breasts, your throat, your stomach.

It felt strange, reveling in being touched on the parts of your body you had always been told you should be ashamed of.  But it was impossible to be ashamed with Eddie.  He never expected you to be quite or make yourself smaller.  He always made enough space for you to be fully yourself.  

You lowered your own hands to Eddie’s chest, comforted by the warmth of his body.  You sank a little deeper.  You felt tremendous relief when you realized your weight was resting fully on Eddie’s hips. No pain, just firm pressure, verging on discomfort, but still somehow pleasurable.   

“Is that good?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty fucking good,” Eddie stammered.  

You walked your hands up from Eddie’s chest, placing them beside his head, leaning over him.

“You like it?” you asked.

Eddie nodded, biting his lip, pressing his face into the soft skin of your breasts.  You whimpered softly as he traced circles around your nipples with his thumbs.

“You?”

“Yeah,” you said.  “Feels kind of…full or stretched.  I think I just need a second.”

“You take all the time you need, babe,” Eddie said, his voice sounding tight, like after smoking too many cigarettes.   

As you felt the tension of your inner walls release a little more, you walked your hands back toward your knees, experimenting with lifting your hips and lowering them back down.   It felt new and exciting, but didn’t measure up to the wave of arousal you had felt with Eddie’s tongue on your clit.   

“Shit,” Eddie ran his hands down your body, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise.   

Emboldened, you lifted yourself up, moving toward standing on your knees and dropped yourself back down. 

“Christ, that’s good,” Eddie gasped.

Eddie pressed his eyes closed, as you moved against him.  You felt a sudden wave of gratitude for your own body and the pleasure it could feel; the pleasure it could give.

You laughed, body pitching forward.  You noticed a phenomenal gripping sensation as you rocked your hips forward and back. Like grinding against his thigh in the woods, but deeper, more of a push than in and out.

You had taken months to prepare for this moment.  You had read every book you could get your hands on and eavesdropped outside the girls’ locker room before cheer practice. 

Hell, you had even loitered outside Family Video for an hour waiting for Steve fucking Harrington to take his break so you could sneak into the adult section of the store.  Robin had given you the side-eye–you couldn’t really blame her–but she was no narc. 

You thought if you had all the information you would know what to do, but now that you had found your rhythm, you found yourself relying on pure instinct.

“I’m close,” Eddie warned.  

“Not yet,” you whimpered, feeling the tension building deep in your core.  “Not yet.”

Judging from the look on Eddie’s face, your pleading was not helping the situation.  Just when you were certain he couldn’t wait for you any longer you reached between your bodies, pressing your thumb hard into the base of his shaft just above the balls.

“Fuck!” Eddie shouted.  Loud.  “What kind of Jedi mind trick was that?” 

You were worried you might have hurt him, but Eddie’s good-natured teasing put you at ease.   

“Patience is a virtue,” you offered him a polite grimace.  

Having bought a few more minutes, you shifted your weight forward, lowering yourself down. Eddie ran his hands up your back, placing one hand on the back of your head, moving the other to hold your face as he bucked his hips up into you with slow but insistent strokes.  

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he panted.   

You whimpered, digging your nails into Eddie’s shoulders.  You could feel the tension unfolding inside you as your inner walls clenched around Eddie’s shaft.

“That’s it,” you sighed, riding him through the sensation.  “You feel amazing.”

Eddie’s face scrunched as he reached his own unimpeded climax with a deep moan that you could feel deep in your core.

Your body felt supple and relaxed as you rolled over to lie down beside Eddie.  The breeze coming from the lake felt cool against your sweat-damp skin and carried the smell of wet grass and pine resin.  

“Are you sure you’ve never done that before?”  Eddie panted, turning his head to meet your gaze.  “Cause I’m pretty sure I just saw God.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, smacking his arm gently.  Eddie chuckled.

“You’re like a sex prodigy,” he said, turning onto his side.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you said.

Eddie put his hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze.  Just outside the sky was still overcast, but the moon entering umbra cast the earth in a pinkish glow.

Eddie took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“Hey,” Eddie said.  “You know I love you, right?”  

You nodded.  “I know.”   

[shinsouskitten]

Hi, so I just read your Bakugou NSFW alphabet, and I was wondering could you do one for Karma Akabane? There's a lack of content for him on Tumblr in general compared to Bakugou and I'm THIRSTY.

ME TOO HONEY. love me some sadistic redhead moments

also sorry for this being like RLLY late 😔 i hope you're not too dehydrated

Warnings: nsfw, mdni, this one is dirty

---

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Okay hear me out. He’s kinda shit at aftercare. He tries, bless him, but he’s just not really a nice guy (I love the guy but c’mon). Likely the most you’ll get is half a glass of water he forgot was on his bedside table and a towel to clean yourself off. At least, that’s all you’ll get while you’re awake. Once you’re asleep he’ll clean you properly (as well as he can without waking you up) and make sure you’re lying comfortably so you don’t wake up too stiff

There’s been the occasional time when you’ve passed out from how hard you came and he’s just kinda stared at you for a moment before making sure you’re okay (and alive) then just lay there stroking your hair until you come (no pun intended) back to him

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

He likes his hands, especially around your throat or gripping your hips like a vice as he completely ruins you. Something makes me think Karma is a neck guy, cause he can cover them with hickies that you can’t hope to hide unless you have some really good concealer. He’s a bit of a vampire

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Everywhere and anywhere. Karma loves to make a mess, and then constantly tell you how dirty you are and demand that you clean yourself up. One of his favorite moments is after he cums inside you, and warns you not to waste a single drop. If you do, oh boy, I guess he’ll just have to fill you up again

D = Dirty secret (pretty clear, a dirty secret of theirs)

Karma doesn’t really have any dirty secrets. If he wants to try something out, he’ll tell you. Really he’s shameless. He’s not gonna hide anything from you, even the darkest thoughts born from his deepest depravity

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not many people would be able to go a night with Karma, cause he can get a little intense, so before you he’s not incredibly experienced. He’s not a virgin by any means, but he hasn’t had the chance to try out most of the crazy things he wants to try. So for the most part he knows what he’s doing, but when it gets to the really fun stuff… well it’ll be a learning curve for the both of you

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Karma doesn’t really have a favorite position, simply because you never stay in one for long enough

G = Goofy (how serious are they in the moment?)

If you whine, or beg, he will laugh at you (the low chuckle 😩). This dude just really enjoys mocking you, but he’s still very serious about pleasuring you

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Tbh he doesn’t really put too much effort into grooming. Mostly he’ll just try to keep it trimmed, and occasionally he’ll shave. Don’t worry tho, even though he doesn’t groom like crazy, he still keeps everything clean

I = Intimacy (how romantic are they in the moment?)

He’s a fucking sadist. Don’t expect him to kiss your forehead and shower you with rose petals cause that’s just not Karma. This man will fuck you until you’re drooling and shaking and unable to talk with absolutely no remorse

J = Jack off (what are their views on masturbation?)

Honestly likes it a little too much. Is there such a thing as a masturbation addiction, cause if so, Karma has it. He has an incredibly high drive, and you’re not always there (or able to keep up with him) so if the dick goes up, the hand goes down

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He puts the S in BDSM

L = Location (favorite places to do the dance with no pants)

Once again, anywhere and everywhere. He’s also not shy about being caught

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going, etc)

When you talk back to him. Did someone say brat tamer?

N = No (turn offs, something they wouldn’t do)

He’ll try anything once, so don’t be shy to suggest something. This man is truly depraved, so anything you could think of, he’s thought of worse

O = Oral (do they prefer giving or receiving? how skilled are they?)

Receiving, 100% receiving. And he’s not gentle either. Get ready for a face fucking cause he will use you until he’s satisfied. If he’s going down on you, it’s because he wants to overstimulate you and see those pretty little tears run down your cheeks

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He will break your back. ‘Nuff said

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies)

Karma looooooooves quickies, especially in public. There’s something about being so needy that you just can’t wait and the thrill and risk of being caught by unsuspecting onlookers

R = Risk (how risky are they willing to be?)

He once fucked you through a midnight showing of Fifty Shades of Gray, as a demonstration that that movie knows nothing about the real good stuff (his words). Surprisingly, no one in the cinema caught on to what was happening in the back seats, and even if they heard something, they most likely ignored it as part of the film. So yeah, he’s down for some risk

S = Stamina (how long do they last? how many rounds?)

It just doesn’t stop. Like- HOW CAN ONE PERSON HAVE SO MUCH STAMINA?! TF?! If you’re not literally shaking he’s not stopping (unless you ask him too of course, he may be an ass but he’s not a completely terrible person)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them on a partner or themselves?)

Oh my. If it exists, he has it. And he’s not shy about trying toys on himself either. He’s very open to new things so it’s not uncommon that you come home to find three new boxes on the kitchen counter and Karma standing over them with a maniacal grin

U = Unfair (how much do they tease?)

Dude. It’s Karma

V = Volume (how they sound, how loud they are, etc)

A small groan here and there, but most of the volume coming from your bedroom will be your own screams. The neighbors know his name, they’ve heard it so much it’d be impossible not to. He uses a fair amount of dirty talk, but he keeps most of his own sounds quiet. He wants to hear your voice, not his own

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

Now cause it’s not technically a dirty secret I left this one until now. One time he had a dream where you topped him and he woke up harder than he’s ever been in his life. He’s way too proud to ever admit wanting to see you take the lead, but if you surprise him and steal the reins, he may just protest a little less

X = X-ray (let’s have a looksee in those pants)

Mini Karma stands tall at a good 7 inches. He’s slightly leaner than average, but there’s a slight curve that has him drilling into your sweet spot with each and every thrust

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

You know Mt Everest? Yeah? Keep going up

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

With his stamina levels it’s highly unlikely he’d fall asleep before you. There’s been the occasional time when you’ve passed out from how hard you came and he’s just kinda stared at you for a moment before making sure you’re still alive