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brandileigh2003 · 2 months ago

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Wolfstar "Hidden gems" underrated fics

~~~please give these authors love, fandom engagement with writers is down and it means more than you know. ~~~

I saw a post about lesser known fics yesterday and decided to try to boost some of my faves. They are under 500 kudos and deserve so much more. (I know that kudos and hits don't mean much at the end of the day, but...)

Feel free to comment or reblog your own fics or your favorites that fit!

-love finds a way by@littleoldrache Jurassic Park au ft disability and trans remus (you really can't go wrong with any of Rachel's fics though, they're amazing)

-The Standard Book Of Spells by Imparfait no voldy hogwarts au

-Tender is the touch (of someone that you love too much) by @purplefiction-ao3 (wip) multiple pov journey of remus waiting for heart transplant

--Engaged for 43 years by @halfravenhalfclaw sirius proposes at first sight at 11, follows til the afterlife (divergent)

--This Is the Way the World Ends by @blitheringmcgonagall sad but beautiful MCD

-Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations by TheQueerTailor Sixth year has just started and Remus is barely keeping up. He's just sixteen but it feels like his body is falling apart.

-Tertiary Colors by krabapple mpreg 1st war divergent, potters live (check out other fics too!)

-Black's Anatomy by @grasslesss greys anatomy fic, remus has lupus

-Give Me A Sign by @theresthesnitch soulmate fic, remus is deaf. (Wip)

-Sweets and Books by Writer_INFJ_2w1: bookshop au, chronic pain

-Babysitting For Dummies by Middleofamoment (37k) au raising teddy get together (theres a sequel and 3rd to come)

-Rarer Than One in a Million by Sp00nhater wolfstar is so soft and sweet, meet in hospital

-Tic Tic Boom by @fictionboysarebetter : Hogwarts fic, remus has tourettes (wip)

-The Ups and Downs of Inevitability by depressed_and_nauseous (check tags deals with heavy topics) remus is in Poppy's care for his safety (wip)

-Small Bones of Courage by Anonymous mcd, please read tags, sensitive topics. Later in life lycanthropy is terminal for remus.

-Flight of Destiny by @lucigoo sapphic wolfstar meet on plane (Luci also has lots of beautiful fics)

-Birthday Blues by YouBlitheringIdiot @blitheringmcgonagall :Sirius is turning sixty and he is appalled...

-Give Quarter to Old Men - @krethes series with older wolfstar

-lazing on a sunday afternoon by peachyybabe domestic slice of life

-I choose you to love for the rest of my life by Writer_INFJ_2w1 sapphic wolfstar wedding

-Puppy Magic by @demonbanisher thefifthmarauder17 magical divergent

-Consider the Lotus by busaikko: Sirius goes with remus to register at the ministry after the prank to show realities of lycanthropy

-Grow As We Go sapphicselene: post 1st war divergent, wolfstar in therapy

-From the Patient Files of Remus J Lupin, 1971 by TheQueerTailor

-While I breathe, I hope by MarigoldWritesThings by @marigold-hills divergent where remus left school after prank

-Without You by daffodilsonaprettystring Titanic mcd (wip)

-Blinded Fate by FatedEcho- Star wars meets wolfstar (wip)

-catch me on the way down by raggedypond

--To die, as lovers may by @moggetbright vampire Sirius and Hunter Remus

-The First Train Home by @houndsinheaven look into 76 and 95

-The Streak by @greyfavorite Remus dressed as a cowboy

-Francesca Syndrome by @coralsunset and diplobeanz: pining Remus

-You Drive Me Crazy by @klilyr based on you drive me crazy

-lights over harvest moon by @shoopsthereitis get together

-maybe time running out is a gift by messrsrarchives @roblogging mcd sickfic

-Love at First Bloom by viwrites @just--vi flower shop au with pining and chronically ill Remus

-cosmic entanglement by @maladaptivewriting wolfstar in every universe!!!!

-Meet Me In The Exosphere by @euripidestrousers top gun au

-Remus lupins guide on how to (not) become a quidditch seeker by Girl_rotting

-we grew up in spite of it by peachyybabe wip, remus has a twin, mcd

-beautiful boy by peachyybabe wip, mcd, based on beautiful boy

This is technically over "kudos cap" but i really don't see it rec'd enough:

-Wishes on Stars by Quietlemonhush, TherestheSnitch fairy tale: remus wishes for a friend

**this post was made in Nov 2024, so hopefully some of these numbers have changed and you've made some authors' day 💙💙

New additions:

-just being neighborly by atropos-aeneas sirius and Remus meet in Azkaban (6k)

~~~lovely reddit post about fics under 1k~~~

#underrated fic recs #hidden gems #fic recs #under 500 kudos #wolfstar #give these authors love #remus lupin #sirius black #marauders #lesser known fics #lesser known authors #but damn they're beautiful #fanfic #under rated fanfic recs

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nottyoursbutmine · 6 months ago

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you are in love | t.n

pairing: theodore nott x implied slytherin? best friend reader

the one where Y/N is convinced theo doesn’t have feelings for her, especially near valentine’s day

btw I did mention a bit of young sirius black in there oops time lapse idc- also! why are summaries so hard to write?

you are in love - taylor swift

—

One look, dark room, meant just for you

You’re sitting in the library with Theo, Pansy, and Draco studying for your upcoming Potions exam. Theo only invited you but Pansy overheard and then invited her boyfriend.

You’re sitting next to Theo, still wearing your short skirt uniform. His left hand is on your thigh, his pinky barely going underneath your skirt as he slightly moves his hand back and forth. You don’t even notice it because it’s become so routine. Especially with the weather, winter is approaching and you made the mistake of forgetting your coat. Theos’ hand was warming you up in the cold library.

You feel someone kick you and you look up to see the culprit, Pansy. She nods her eyebrows and points her eyes to where Theos’ hand is. You check the corner of your eye to make sure Theo isn’t looking. Once you determine he isn’t, you simply give Pansy a shrug. She scoffs and lifts her head to speak to the group, “Don’t you guys think it’s getting late?” She’s smiling but you can see what she’s doing. She wants to question the heck out of you as soon as possible, yet again.

Theo turns to you, waiting for your answer, as if his answer will be anything you decide. You have to admit, you are tired. “Yea, let’s head back.” Immediately Theo begins packing both of your things. You barely had time to process what he was doing before he was finished.

He grabs his and your bags when he says, “Let’s go.” You both stood up at the same time but he grabs you by the waist to stop you from walking away. “You can’t go out like that. It’s about to start raining and you’re wearing a skirt.” He grabs his coat from where he had placed it neatly behind him. As he’s wrapping his coat around you, he takes a few steps closer to you, enough to where you can feel his breath. He begins buttoning the coat and your eyes turn to look at his hands. You can tell he’s looking at your eyes but you’re afraid to look up.

“Geez get a room guys! Hurry up or we’re gonna leave you behind.” Dracos’ voice makes you take a step back and grab your bag off his shoulder. You speed walk towards Pansy and Theo hears something of an apology. He was left with his heart beating out of his chest all because the girl of his dreams was right in front of him and his Draco ruined it.

Theo is lying on you with his arms wrapped around your torso, his head below your neck. You’re playing with his hair as you listen to Blaise and Mattheo debate over you don’t know what.

You unintentionally make eye contact with Pansy. She raises her eyebrows and gives you a smirk. She’s the only one who knows about your feelings and constantly finds chances to subtly tease you. She always says he likes you too. However, you don’t see it. Theo and you are just friends, he will never have feelings for you.

You see that she’s in the exact same position as you are. Except nobody questions her because she and Draco are in a relationship. Your hand freezes on Theos’ hair and he looks up at you, “Are you okay?” His eyes piercing into yours.

You give him your most convincing smile, “Yea, I’m just tired.” You look away so he can’t see you’re lying to him.

He hugs you tighter for a second then says, “Okay let’s go to bed then.” He pulls away, getting off of you in the most gentlemanly manner. Once he’s off the couch he uses his left hand to hold yours and wraps his right hand around your waist as if you needed that extra support. “Guys we’re gonna go upstairs.” Theo announces their departure to the group.

Blaise gasps over-dramatically, “We’re going upstairs? Thank Merlin I’m tired!” He starts to fan himself, provoking Theo.

Theo narrows his eyes at the boy and shoves Blaise back down into his seat as the pair walk by hand in hand. “Not everyone ‘we’, ‘we’ as in Y/N and I. Goodnight.” He says without looking back, pulling you away from them.

Goodnight. He said goodnight. Implying you’ll be sleeping together, right? You’re pretty sure your face is a complete tomato. You turn around with a big smile, “Goodnight everybody, have a safe sleep!” Your voice echoes as you walk up the steps to Theos’ individual dorm.

What you didn’t get to hear is the conversation that continued in the common room.

“Safe? Who says have a safe sleep?”

“Not important Blaise.” Pansy rolls her eyes, “Did you guys see them? They are so annoying with the ‘They don’t like me back’ back and forth. We need to do something.”

They spend quite a bit of time coming up with a plan that would get one of you to confess your feelings to the other. They have too many to choose from, possibly too many that go too far. That would be Draco’s and Mattheo’s fault.

Upstairs in Theos’ dorm is a different story. He had lent you some of his shorts that he grew out of and a loose shirt, that was way oversized on you. You were lying in his bed waiting for him to exit the restroom. You two were just going to sleep, you knew that, but you couldn’t help all the scenarios that crossed through your mind.

You unconsciously played with the necklace Theo had gifted you for absolutely no reason at all. It was his initial with a note card reading, ‘Not because I own you, but because I know you.’ And you haven’t taken it off since.

You slightly open your eyes and you can tell it must be the middle of the night. You’re laying on Theos’ chest and look up to see him staring at you with a strange look on his face. He pauses, then says, “You're my best friend.” and you knew what it was, he is in love. At least you hope?

Valentine’s Day was coming up and so was the number of boys that were asking you to Hogsmeade. You were surprised that anybody at all was asking you out. Typically you just go with your friends to get a ButterBeer and walk around. For the past few years you’ve hoped Theo would ask you but he never has.

Due to the amount of second and third years asking you out, you assumed it was a prank. But then, Sirius Black asked you out and you found yourself saying yes to him with no hesitation. One conversation with him and your question of how does he get so many girls, is gone.

You’re doing homework in your dorm wearing your comfortable afterschool outfit. Someone knocks on your door, you get up from your bed and see that it’s Theo holding a small black present bag beautifully designed. Your mouth turns into that huge smile it does when you see him as you open the door. Immediately you wrap your arms around him to hug him, “Hi! Did we have plans?”

You let go once you realize he wasn’t hugging you back. In fact, he looked pissed. “Sirius Black? Do you know how many girls he’s been with? How many girls he’s made cry?” Okay so he found out.

You throw your head back in nervous laughter, “Theo, do you know how many girls you’ve been with?” You walk back into your room, Theo following you and closing the door behind him.

“Him and I are not the same person.” His eyes are piercing into yours. He’s two steps away from you and it feels like his skin is on yours. “I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade. I was going to ask you- you just needed to give me time. This is for you, for the day I was going to ask you.”

He’s holding out the small black present bag to you. It has a neatly set bow on the top, confirming that Pansy helped him with this gift. You open the bag and take out something inside, you see you two are dancing in a snow globe round’ and round’. Theo charmed the snowglobe so your figures would not only dance but play in the snow together, sit under a tree, swing on the swing set.

You gasp, it’s the most beautiful gift you’ve ever received. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You put the snowglobe down on your nightstand and give him the biggest hug, squeezing him as hard as you can. “I love it! I also got you a present…sort of.” You open your nightstand drawer and picking up the wrapped gift and handing it to Theo.

He chuckles, “Isn’t this just meant to be.” He whispers the last part mostly to himself but you softly smile having heard it. He rips the wrapping and sees it’s a gold frame with a photo of the two of you, he’s behind you with his chin on your head and his arms wrapped around your waist. Your hands are placed above his, securing they don’t leave. You both have a goofy smiles on your face.

“It’s for your nightstand, I don’t know I just thought it’d be cut-”

He interrupts you, “I love it. I absolutely love it.” He drags out his last word and now the silence is so loud. He has put down the gift and started staring at your necklace, the one he gave you for no reason at all.

The light reflects the chain on your neck. He sighs, taking a final step towards you, almost closing the space. He says, "Look up," and your shoulders brush. No proof, one touch. But you felt enough. He gently touches the necklace then smiles almost to himself. He meets your eyes, “I like you so so much Y/N. I have for years now and I can’t keep trying to forget you. I was going to ask you I promise. You just had to give me a little more time. I’ve spent my whole life trying to put this into words. It’s love, true love.”

He grabs your face and quickly presses his lips against yours, you waste no time kissing him back. This is finally happening, you never thought this would happen. You never thought you would be in this situation.

You’re the first to pull away and your foreheads are leaning on each other while you’re both breathing heavily. You give him a quick peck on the lips then a teasing smile when he pouts as you pull away. “I like you so so much too Theo.” He looks up in shock, quickly sitting on your bed and pulling you to straddle his waist.

He puts his hands dangerously low and attempts to pull you closer to him, you can tell it works when you see him take a deep breath and hard gulp. His eyes roam your body as he smirks, your face now in his hands, he says, “So you’re saying it’s love? True love?”

You throw your head back in laughter, “Yes, yes I’m saying it’s love. It’s true lov-.” With your final answer Theo interrupts you by feverishly placing his lips on yours. You don’t mind the interruption at all though.

—

okay I’m feeling a bit 7/10? I finally did 1989! hopefully next will be ttpd 🤞🏼

requests are open 🫶🏼

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httpsserene · 10 days ago

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𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐨𝐫 - 𝐝𝐫. 𝟑

summary: driver, roll up the partition, please.

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!black!reader

3.5k words. requested. title and fic inspired by beyoncé's partition. explicit sexual content. mdni 18+ only. pwp. alcohol. one night stand. car sex. mild exhibitionism. oral sex (male and female receiving). using daniel for sexual gratification, maybe? reader has $$$. reader will ruin your life and look hot doing it. daniel "till the skin falls off" ricciardo.

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. funnily enough, i have no words. enjoy reading, babes xxx

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents ↻

From the moment you strolled by to reach your reserved table, his eyes have been locked on you. You haven’t decided if you want to meet his stare, there hasn’t been an opportunity to appraise if he’d be worth more than a passing thought.

Your attention is called back to the table by one of your girls, who points out a different man who’s paid for a round of shots. He’s adorable, cute even, younger than you’d usually entertain, sporting a flashy Cuban link chain and cable knit sweater with loose jeans—but his company leaves a lot to be desired. His friends barely look like men, dressed in wrinkled shirts and zippered jeans, flexing their singular bottle of Hennessy for the table on social media. You nod at him once in thanks for the shots and he tips his glass at you, understanding your meaning. He’s the second man who’s paid for your drinks tonight, and the second man you’ve had to politely turn down. The first guy was so unremarkable you can’t recall why you decided he wasn’t worth your time.

You down the lemon drop, humming at the burn as your girls cheer in the background. They decide to make their way to the dance floor and you opt to stay at the table, claiming that you’re going to order another drink before joining them.

They slink off at your excuse and minutes after they’ve disappeared, a daiquiri is brought to you by a bottle girl. Her sickly sweet voice doesn’t disguise the envious glare in her eyes as she informs you that it’s been paid for, tipping her head to point out the man who’s been quietly observing for the entire thirty minutes you’ve been seated at the table.

In this club, every woman loathes you, and every man is waiting for you to decide who gets to unclothe you.

You accept the drink, thanking her politely, stirring the daiquiri as you watch her swallow her scoff before walking away. If you were as immature as she is, you would have her fired in the blink of an eye.

You make him wait five minutes longer before turning to lock eyes with him from across the room, bringing the glass to your lips to sip the daiquiri, tilting your head to elongate the length of your neck, exaggerating the bob of your throat as you swallow. Peach Schnapps and passion fruit rum warm your chest. It’s delicious. You don’t stop sipping, maintaining eye contact with the unknown man until it runs dry. Exhaling quietly, you lower the empty glass, fluttering your eyelashes at him as you swipe your tongue across your bottom lip to collect the lingering drops of alcohol.

His mouth parts in incredulity, you assume, and you take advantage of the lapse of his composure to examine him. Your gaze is languid as it drifts from his brunette curls to his full eyebrows and warm brown eyes, to his strong nose, ample lips, and groomed beard, to his broad shoulders and the exposed tanned skin of his collarbone that teases a sliver of what’s certainly a muscled chest and abdomen underneath a black shirt with the first two buttons unfastened. Accessorized with a simple silver chain around his neck and an expensive watch on his wrist, you think you spot a few tattoos underneath the low lighting. Your eyes flicker downward to gauge if his pants show what he’s packing, but the distance between the two of you prevents you from being able to play your favorite (and necessary) guessing game. You huff disappointedly, knowing you're going to have to speak and potentially dance with him to get a closer view or feel, for if he meets your standards.

Ending your inspection, you drag your gaze upward to see a smirk splayed across his lips with an amused shine to his eyes. You shrug as if to say, “Can you blame me?” before smiling widely at him, the white diamond jewels on your canines flashing under the sparse light, creating the facade of sparkling fangs. His smirk fades as he matches your grin, displaying a near-perfect set of white teeth (veneers or a product of braces, you presume) and he raises an eyebrow in query.

Tipping your head toward the dance floor, he nods his agreement. You kindly turn down a few men who invite you to their table on your walk past, making false promises of joining them later in the night. Locating your girls in the mess of dancing bodies, you inform them about your potential bed warmer. A couple of them roll their eyes laughingly, a couple of them smack their teeth, and a couple of them call you a whore—and giggling, you feign vexation, correcting your title of “whore” to “slut.” You don’t do this for money, you do it for fun.

Their judgment doesn’t last any longer than it takes them to remember that their various levels of drunkenness are due to your ability to enchant various men into making sure that none of you spend a single dollar inside this club. They perform a quick check of your outfit and makeup to make sure you’re perfectly put together before allowing you to slip away to ensnare your catch.

You snake your way through the swaying crowd, taking a few minutes to locate those familiar broad shoulders. As you’re reaching out to place a hand on his back, you meet the eyes of a woman on his other side tugging his hand. Unfazed, you stare cooly, hiding your mirth within as you watch her face pale. She glances between you and the man once, before dropping her hand and stepping away, disappearing into the crowd.

He grins when your hand rests on his pec, his vision tunneling as you step around to press your chest to his, hips swaying to the music blasting from the speakers. You drape your arms over his shoulders and his hands raise to rest on your hips, his own stirring to match your rhythm with ease.

He leans down to speak in your ear, alcohol-stained breath dancing over your skin and sending a shiver down your spine, “Jealous much?”

Hm, you weren’t expecting an accent. Straightening up, you turn to speak close to his ear as well.

With a short, performative chuckle, you chirp, “Of her? Not a chance. Were you trying to make me jealous?”

“No way,” his laughter is contagious, and you giggle into his bearded cheek without restraint, “I reckon if f I played that game, you wouldn’t waste another second on me.”

“You would be right,” you concede, finding no shame in that, “—Is that an Australian accent, I hear?”

“You would be right,” he parrots your phraseology, “Never met one of my kind before?”

You glance downwards, ogling at the weight pressing at his zipper, and up close, a sizable print stares right back at you.

You grin predatorily, all sharp teeth and diamonds, teasingly grinding your hips forward, “Mm? No, I’ve met a couple. Can’t say any of them have been quite like you, though.”

“My name is Daniel,” he introduces himself, “I figure you at least need to know my name if we’re leaving together.”

Oh, how sweet of him. You won’t tell him that you never cared to get the names of the last four guys who kept you company. To please him, you give him your name, trailing your lips over the shell of his ear and down his well-muscled neck.

His left hand lowers to palm your ass, and you hum lowly, “My car is waiting out front if we’ve decided to stop pretending like we’re going to dance.”

Daniel’s hand pulls away to grab yours and he leads you to the club exit. Walking outside forty-five minutes after you entered, you point toward the running Mercedes Maybach waiting by the curb. Your driver moves to step out but you halt him with a wave of your hand, wordlessly telling him to stay put. This allows Daniel the chance to play gentlemen, opening the back door for you and making sure you don’t knock your head on the hinge as you sit before he follows you inside.

The door clicks shut and your lips crash together, teeth clacking with little finesse. Impatient, you bury a hand in his curls, tugging forcefully to direct his head in the perfect angle, chuckling breathlessly at the shocked groan that rumbles out of his chest. You deepen the kiss, nipping his bottom lip before sliding your tongue into the fray, licking out the lingering taste of the gin he’s ingested. He pulls you into his lap, hands fitfully roaming around the curves of your body like he can’t pick an area to settle. Offhandedly, you’re pleased to discover that his pretty teeth are not veneers, as you familiarize the shape of his mouth with yours, greedily swallowing his noises whole.

The sound of a throat clearing interrupts your pursuit, and your driver speaks, “Pardon the interruption—where am I heading, ma’am?”

His mouth leaves yours and you frown, sighing disapprovingly as you pull away. Your pout transforms into a tickled smile as the hot flush of the man underneath you deepens from pink to red, his pupils remaining flared with arousal even though his eyes are wide in embarrassment. Your red lipstick has left a faint tint; you want to see if you can turn that into a stain before you part ways.

Fuck. What’s his name? Nathaniel? Samuel? Gabriel? None of those sound right.

Tutting quietly, you start unbuttoning his shirt, “Do me a favor and tell my kind chauffeur where we’re headed.”

The flustered man stumbles through the address of the hotel he’s staying in, not petrified enough to forget his manners as he thanks your driver afterward.

“Eric,” you call out to your driver, finishing with the buttons of the brunette’s shirt, scratching stiletto nails down his abdomen with one hand while the other traces a fingertip along his nose, “Would you mind rolling up the partition and turning up the music for yourself, please?”

“Of course, ma’am.”

The car pulls away from the curb, starting on the route toward the hotel. You assumed that he was humiliated or ashamed of being overheard or seen, but the notion is dismissed as he pulls you off his lap to rest in the seat, lowering himself to his knees between your legs before the partition has finished rolling up.

He cranes upward to reconnect your lips, hand braced at the nape of your neck to prevent the force of his movement from bashing you into the headrest. You hum, endeared at the mindful handling, savoring the scrape of his beard and mustache against your smooth, dark shin. Over-excitedly, his lips drift to map the sensitive expanse of your neck, pulling a shocked whimper from you at the first tease of teeth and pressure. He’s too eager to linger and continues to explore further, laving his tongue along your clavicle and nipping at your cleavage exposed by the low cut of your blouse.

His hands fist into the sheer fabric, ripping off your top and sending the buttons flying across the backseat. Need flares hungrily at the sensation of his lips suctioning on a patch of skin next to your nipple. Your mobility jolts into action, nails digging into his scalp to jerk his head back, and you assert, “You don’t get to leave marks.”

He doesn’t comprehend, distracted by the biting pain of your hold, hissing through his teeth, “W-what?”

You relax your grip, raking your fingertips through his curls apologetically, “What’s your name again, love?”

A dubious snort leaves him, “Should I be offended that you forgot that quickly? It’s Daniel.”

“Don’t take it personally, Danny,” your smile is shark-like, diamonds twinkling, red lips making it look like you’re coated in blood, “—And, don’t leave marks.”

Too horny to care about the insult of your forgetfulness, he nods to confirm he’s heard your request, pushing the hem of your skirt to bunch around your waist, thumbs digging into your hip bones. He skirts his lips along your inner thighs, breathing heavily over the fabric of your thong, already dampened a shade darker by your arousal. Daniel laves his tongue over your clothed heat, his depraved groan at the faint taste of you is louder than the choked gasp that punched out of your lungs. He tugs the fabric to the side, tucking it in the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis, revealing your beautifully swollen vulva. He licks indulgently at the petals of flesh, nose knocking against your clit, sending a bolt of pleasure spindling up your spine.

His tongue pushes inside, lapping deeply to coax out more of your flavor, the plushness of his mouth brushing against your labia. Daniel’s slurps and heavy breaths against your cunt echo around the back seat; if it didn’t sound like you were dripping wet, anyone overhearing may have assumed this was just a heavy make-out. Instead, your activities are fairly obvious, and your stuttered, debauched whimpers would expose what’s occurring in the car without doubt.

Honks sound from various directions outside, but it’s due to frustration with the stop-and-go traffic on the street. Blacked-out tint and loud R&B have yet to fail you.

He sucks your clit between his lips harshly, circling his tongue around the swollen bud, and your frame jolts, hips bucking into his face, hand flying down to tangle in his hair, keeping him buried between your thighs, and crying out sharply at the almost overwhelming wave of pleasure.

“Fuck—just like that,” you whimper, head rolling back.

Daniel’s smug chuckle dances through your fluttering folds, but he keeps his focus narrowed on intensifying his motions, burying two fingers inside your pussy as he keeps his lips locked around your clit. His digits fuck you forcefully, curling upward and ravaging your spongy walls, slick noises multiplying at the speed he shoves them into you. The friction burn from his facial hair starts to sting and the compounded sensations have you throwing a leg over him, digging the heel of your foot into his shoulder blade to pull him closer.

The knot in your abdomen tightens, thighs straining to close around his head contradicting the movement of your hips rabbiting up into his mouth. His hand leaves your hip to grasp at your knee, keeping you pried open with ease. Your squeals go quiet, back arching, eyes screwed shut, muscles cording with tension, and the rope snaps—violent, white-hot satisfaction crashing over you like an unforgiving stormy sea and spilling over Daniel's tongue, lips, and chin.

His mouth and fingers continue their assault, riding the undulation of your hips with spectacular accuracy as the aftershocks shudder through. You go boneless, falling limp against the leather seat and batting Daniel’s head away, spent. You giggle breathily, bare chest heaving in exertion and you can only think about how you’re going to need to get the car detailed tomorrow. Your lids open hooded, peering down and sneering at the self-satisfied expression on Daniel’s face.

“You must spend a lot of time between a woman’s legs to be that good at it,” you say lightly, a bit of an underhanded compliment. With your lifestyle, who are you to judge?

He shifts stiffly, tattooed hands dropping to adjust his pants, and he snipes, “Or, maybe I just enjoy doing it. And, you’re easy.”

“Did you cum in your pants already?” Your voice sings demeaningly. “Or, do you want me to return the favor and show you which one of us is really easy?”

You swap positions, his legs alluringly spread wide as you situate yourself on the car floor. His smile is goading, buttoned shirt splayed open to reveal the tanned expanse of his toned physique riddled with claw marks from your nails, his tongue out, licking up the lingering trails of your essence and you smack your teeth at the needless display. You pull him out of his pants, keeping your delight at the heavy weight of him stored inward, a smirk quirking the corner of your lips as you notice the precum that’s moistened the head. Your hand wraps around the base to hold him steady and a fresh bead blots out from his slit, “I don’t see you lasting much longer, so tell me when you’re close.”

Not giving him a chance to respond, you lick from base to tip before swallowing down the first few inches, amused at the gasped “Fuck,” he exclaims. Daniel tastes like salt and the musk of man, the weight of him in your mouth quieting an innate need screaming at the base of your skull. You moan, guttural, sliding down until your lips meet your hand, tongue cradling the underside of his dick.

You draw up slightly, inhaling through your nose, hand moving to rest on his clothed thigh before you slowly suck him down to the hilt, ignoring the urge to choke as he breaches your throat. He curses above you loudly, skull slamming into the headrest as he clumsily brushes the hair out of your face, tugging it back with a tight fist. Your lipstick leaves a ring of red around him and you pull off to press kisses on the throbbing length, admiring how the color of your lipstick begins to blend with the desperate flush of his cock.

You suckle over him until he’s wet with spit, swallowing the pre that streaks out straight from the source. His abdomen contracts sporadically and you suck him down again, knowing if you continued teasing this would end sooner than prematurely. He bucks up and you mirror the movement, lips sealed tightly around his girth as you bob your head, ignoring your gag reflex.

“Fuck, how do you look so good doing this?” He moans, and you assume it’s rhetorical because your ability to explain how is compromised.

Your technique is determined, eyes stinging at the constant intrusion as you watch his expressions shudder underneath your unwavering attention. Tears fall from your lash line as you suckle harder, tongue swirling as you struggle to pull him completely inside your mouth. Daniel’s present enough to understand your wants, and assists, using the grip he has in your hair to angle you perfectly, the final few centimeters slipping inside.

You dig your nails into his thighs to hold him steady, swallowing around him repeatedly to tighten your throat further. Daniel yelps, choking on his own spit as he stutters, “S-shitshitshit—I’m gonna—”

Swiftly, you lean back until just the head remains between your lips, tongue lapping over the most sensitive areas while your hands rejoin to twist harshly around the rest.

“Fuck,” Daniel grunts roughly, cock kicking. You draw off completely, angling his dick downward and sliding your hands up to wrench his tip, thumb digging into the slit, and then he’s spilling.

His release streaks across your neck and chest, creamy and thick on your skin, hips thrusting into your tight grasp, whimpering through you wringing out every last drop, brown eyes pried wide open as he sees himself paint you white. You nurse out the last bead of spend from his tip with a suckle of your lips before guiding his cock to gently rest on his abdomen.

Daniel slumps back with a shaky breath and you grab the remains of your shredded blouse to wipe off his cum. You swallow reflexively, the ache of your throat has your core tingling and your mind whirring. You were too eager, tonight. You should’ve gotten him inside of you before you rendered him useless. If you had known he’d just be good for head, this could’ve been resolved back in the club bathroom, and you wouldn’t be stuck with having to drop him off at his hotel since there’s no point in going up to his room anymore.

A long honk blares from in front of the car and you sigh, choosing to give Daniel another chance as he’s been your best lay in the last six months, “Are you able to get it up again?”

His brow furrows in genuine offense this time, and you raise your hands in apology. You follow his eyeline as he looks down, dumbfounded to see that he’s only softened a bit.

“That one only took the edge off,” he says, tone confident.

You climb up, seating yourself on his lap. He grabs another piece of your shirt from the seat, cautiously attempting to wipe away the mascara tracks streaked down your cheeks and the smears of red lipstick around your mouth.

The partition rolls down at your first knock as if the operator was straining to listen, “Eric, we’ll be heading to my home instead, if it’s not too much trouble to change course.”

“It’s no trouble at all, ma’am. We’ll be arriving in twenty minutes.”

He rolls up the divider without you having to ask.

“Do you need to use the twenty minutes as a break before we arrive at my place?” You question, trying for sincere thoughtfulness this time around.

Daniel doesn’t respond, reaching forward to grasp your cheeks with a firm hand, yanking you into a kiss, unbothered by the flavor of himself in your mouth. If his ability to fuck is on par or better than his head game, and he manages to satiate you two or three more times tonight—it might be incentive enough for you to remember his name come morning.

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