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cxrrodedcoffin · 4 months ago

Text

Route To Sin - Eddie Munson

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Summary: eddie decides to go on a roadtrip with you to visit your sister in vegas, when you stop at a themed motel on the way, things quickly take a filthy turn.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: my first eddie munson fic!! i’ve loved this man for two years, i just finally decided to put it on paper lol, please let me know what y’all think!!

TW: dom!eddie, slight brat tamer!eddie, reader has a sister, drug use (weed), food mention, marriage talk, dacryphilia, breeding kink, daddy kink, bathtub sex, oral fixation, unprotected sex (don’t do this), creampie, cowgirl, mirror sex, degradation (brat, whore), porn mention, spanking mention, pet names (doll, babydoll, sweet girl, sweetheart, angel), hair pulling, fem + afab reader, reader gets slightly insecure at the end

Rating: R, 18+

——

A waft of earthy smoke billowed from the open driver’s side window, the familiar smell pulling Eddie’s attention back to the van. You knelt on the bench seat, body stretched across the expanse of the front cab to rest your folded arms against the edge of the window frame, silently watching your boyfriend pump gas. The last of the joint you’d been passing back and forth dangled limply between your pointer and middle finger, careful to avoid dropping the simmering butt and accidentally lighting the whole place up.

“If you keep blowin’ that roach shit my way I’m gonna leave you here.” That signature sarcasm rang heavy in his tone, canines peeking out from under his top lip with the smile he flashed at you.

He shut the fuel door, grabbing the roach out of your hand before snubbing it out against the heel of his boot and tossing it into the ashtray on top of the nearest trash can.

“I gotta go in to pay, do you want anything?” He fumbled with his wallet, pulling the wad of crumpled bills out of the worn leather.

“Get me a slice?” You asked, tilting your head toward the neon in the window that read ‘Pizza: Hot To Go’ in blinking red letters. He nodded, hitting a light jog into the convenience store, wallet chain slapping against his thigh with every step.

When you suggested a roadtrip to visit your sister in Nevada, you hadn’t fully taken into account how long you’d need to be in the van. Hawkins to Vegas wasn’t exactly a short trip, two thousand miles to be exact, and as much as you loved spending time with Eddie, the old, worn out seat of his van was starting to make your tailbone ache. Being 16 hours into a 28 hour drive had you feeling more stressed out than usual, you definitely needed to sleep in a real bed tonight if you hoped to get any relief before your big weekend in Sin City.

Eddie came bounding across the cracked pavement, pizza box in hand and you perked up, his goofy smile illuminated by the final sliver of dusk and the dingy glow of the old gas station sign above.

“I got a whole pie, Rick wasn’t fuckin around when he said that new stuff would make you feel like you’re starving.” He yanked open the door, the metal creaking loudly on its rusty hinge. You took the box from him, setting it on the bench between you as he hoisted himself into the driver’s seat, starting up the van to continue your journey.

“Eddie, can we stop at a motel tonight?” You asked, opening the box to lift a piece of pizza out, folding it down the center and bringing it to his face.

“M’not sure if there’s anything on the way, but we can stop if we see something, doll.” He turned his head, keeping his eyes on the road through his peripheral as he took a bite from the slice in your hand.

‘Welcome Home (Sanitarium)’ by Metallica blared through the speakers either side of the van’s tape deck, vibrations from the heavy bass flowing through the vehicle and melding with the warm haze your high pulled over your mind, your body relaxing into the stained upholstery of the seat. You kicked your bare legs up onto the dashboard, white lacquered toenails pulling Eddie’s eyes off the road briefly. His gaze shifted down to your ankle, then your calf, then landing on your plush thigh, your soft skin peeking out from under your short pajama shorts.

“Eddie, there!” You pointed toward the sign glowing overhead through the dirty windshield, reading ‘Heart’s Desire Motel’ in faded letters atop a large metal heart. His attention was quickly pulled away from your soft skin, pulling the van off the highway and into the small parking lot. The place was quaint, baby pink paint peeling from the siding, with an old ‘vacancy’ sign blinking in the window of the front office. You pulled your sandals on and jumped out of the van, slipping Eddie’s jacket over your shoulders to shield your bare arms from the chill in the night air. Eddie followed quickly behind, catching up to you with ease as you reached the front door.

A small bell rang when you pulled open the office door, the only source of light in the small room being a desk lamp situated behind the front counter. You waited for a moment, hearing a ‘be right with you!’ called from an adjoining space.

“How can I help ya darlin?” A sweet older woman emerged from a back storage space, setting some paperwork down and taking her place behind the counter.

“Can we get a room for the night?” You asked cheerily, excited to finally lay down on something that wasn’t a blanket in the back of Eddie’s van. She smiled and nodded, flipping through the room log book, and you took the opportunity to glance at your surroundings. The walls were the same light pink as the exterior, with heart and cupid motifs scattered across them to really hone in on the theming. The kitchy aesthetic was endearing, a reminder of the bygone honeymoon resorts of the 60’s.

“All our double twin rooms are booked for the night so we only have single queen rooms available, is that alright?” She looked between you and Eddie, knowing her question may as well have been rhetorical.

“That’s actually preferred, it’s our wedding night.” Eddie lied to the woman, a shiteating grin stretched across his face when you turned back to him and shoved his shoulder.

“Well in that case I’ll put you up in our honeymoon suite! It’s not much different from our standard rooms, but there’s a heart shaped tub for you two lovebirds to enjoy.” Her face lit up with the sweetest smile and your heart melted, guilt sitting low in your chest knowing it was a lie. You didn’t have the heart to tell her or question why she’d believed it given the way the two of you were dressed, but you shrugged it off, just happy to be able to finally relax.

You took the key from her as Eddie handed her the cash to pay for the room, twirling it between your fingers, a red keychain etched with the same logo as the overhead sign on one side and the room number above a small heart on the other. Eddie shoved his wallet back into his pocket, his arm wrapping around your waist to usher you out of the main office, calling out a ‘thank you’ as you left.

“What the fuck was that?” You grabbed your bag from the back of the van, shooting him a death glare only to be met with that ridiculous smirk he so loved to taunt you with.

“What, you don’t wanna be my bride?” He faux pouted, dark waves falling in his face as you reached for his bag. You over-exaggeratedly rolled your eyes, starting to walk toward the room.

“Guess it’s the atmosphere of this place getting to me, babydoll.” He slammed the door of the van, jogging to catch up with you as you started putting the key in the door lock. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment from how that little nickname made your heart want to burst out of your chest, Eddie always knew exactly how to push your buttons in the best way and this was no exception.

The sight that greeted you beyond the door was like something out of a 70’s porno, wood paneled walls framing crimson velour window trimmings, a matching velvet comforter sprawled across the queen bed. Two poorly painted angels sat perched atop the heart shaped headboard, like prying eyes seeing every depraved act carried out on the altar below. Sure enough, at the far end of the suite was a heart shaped jacuzzi tub, tiled steps leading up and mirrors lining the walls of the corner it was tucked into.

You dropped your bag on top of the mahogany dresser across from the bed, and as you turned on your heel to shut the door behind Eddie, you couldn’t help but burst into a small fit of laughter at the cross hanging above the door frame. The idea that anything happening in this sex den was god-honoring was definitely scoff-worthy.

“What d'ya say we put that thing to use? My back is killing me and I bet those jets would feel killer.” Eddie’s fingertips dug firm indents into the flesh of your hip, a not-so-subtle indication of what his intentions were for the night.

“Whatever you want, daddy.” You winked, taking a step forward until his large hand gripped your forearm.

“What did you just call me?” He questioned, brow quirked in curiosity.

“It’s our wedding night, remember? Don’t you wanna start a family?” Your tone was playful but truthfully something about this place was stirring a feeling so raw inside of you that you weren’t kidding in the slightest.

“If you keep that up you won’t be able to walk in the morning.” Eddie released his grip, slapping your ass as you walked away to turn on the faucet for the tub.

“Won’t need to anyway, I’ll be sitting in your shitty van for 12 more hours.” You knew exactly how to push his buttons, and insulting any of his women (his guitar, his van, and you) was the quickest way to do so.

“That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble.” He half-snapped at you, digging through his duffle bag in an ill-fated attempt to stop himself from watching the way you wiggled your ass while you bent over the side of the tub, watching the waterline rise.

“What are you gonna do, spank me?” You found yourself deliberately arching your back toward to accentuate the curve of your ass, hoping with every fiber of your being he’d stop what he was doing and manhandle you a little.

“Only if you don’t stop with the bratty attitude.” He glanced over at you and immediately dropped the shirt he was pretending to fold back into his bag, finally giving up on his resistance and approaching you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your bare thighs. His fingers slipped into the waistband of your pj shorts and underwear, roughly yanking them down to expose your ass.

“Gotta get you outta these if we’re gonna take that bath.” His tone had returned to that lighthearted sarcasm that you loved to hate, and you almost let yourself sink back against him. Instead, you stood upright again, taking the hem of his tattered Iron Maiden shirt in your grip and lifting it up his torso until he pulled it the rest of the way over his head.

Just as he reached to do the same to your tank top, you turned away and reached for the tap again, putting a stop to the stream of running water. He gripped your waist, pulling you back against him before pulling your tank over your head, leaving you fully naked.

“Get in.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver up your spine that had goosebumps rising over your skin. Maybe it was your residual high, or the lovesick atmosphere of your surroundings, but everything felt heightened, your skin more sensitive, his presence behind you more intimidating, his voice more intoxicating.

You ascended the short step and sunk into the bath, the water level rising to not quite cover your chest as you laid back into the left arch of the heart. Eddie watched your every move, eyes glued to your hips to drink in the way your form shifted with every step. He made quick work of removing his jeans, letting the stiff denim pool at his feet as he watched you settle in, your gaze drifting to the waistband of his plaid boxers. He pulled them down at an almost agonizing slow pace, exposing inch after inch of his semi-hard shaft to your waiting eyes until his cock sprung free, the sheer weight of him causing his length to slap against his upper thighs.

You absentmindedly pressed your thighs together, trying to dull the ache between them to no avail. You never truly got used to seeing him fully naked, blushing like a naive virgin every time you had the privilege of seeing him like this. The muscles of his thigh flexed as he took the step up to level with the lip of the tub, towering over you before sinking into the water beside you. He was an Adonis, all toned muscle under a tender layer of plush tissue that made for the perfect sleeping partner, strong and comforting all the same.

“Come here, doll.” He patted his thigh, the water swaying with the movement alongside the low hum of his voice. You rose to your knees, floating to the other side of the tub and straddling his lap, your core sitting dangerously close to his cock. His hands found your hips, calloused fingertips digging into your soft skin with a squeeze before gliding up your sides, his thumbs ghosting over the sides of your breasts almost teasingly while he admired the way water droplets dripped down over your nipples.

“Always so gorgeous.” He groaned, strong hands finally encompassing your breasts, kneading tender flesh as his rough palms gave your stiff peaks the friction they desperately craved.

His touch lit a fire within you, and as much as the way that he looked at you with such admiration made your heart melt, your need was becoming more and more unbearable by the second. You shifted forward, rubbing your folds over the length of his shaft with a hunger, desperate for stimulation.

Before you knew it he had dropped his grip from your chest, threading a hand into your hair to yank your head softly back, drawing a gasp from your throat.

“Did I tell you you could move?” He questioned, cocking his head to the side and raising his eyebrow. He couldn’t help his sarcastic nature, it just came so naturally to him, and knowing that he had such an immense effect on you gave him the ego boost of the century. You shook your head as much as you could given the grip he held on your tresses, and choked out a soft ‘no’ in response before clearing your throat.

“I-I think I deserve some relief after being in the van all day.” You tried to put up a fight, not quite done riling him up, but your tone was quickly losing all conviction and Eddie could see you slipping further into desperation.

“You don’t deserve anything, you’ve been a pampered little passenger princess for 16 hours while I’ve done all of the work to get us here.” He yanked your hair back even further, craning your neck to look up at the baby pink popcorn ceiling. The sting in your scalp brought tears to your eyes, the liquid breaching your waterline leaving dark mascara trails down your cheeks in its wake.

“You’re being awfully bratty, doll, where’d my sweet girl go?” He cooed, free hand cupping your cheek as he loosened his grip ever so slightly to allow you to look at him.

“I’m sorry Eddie, I’m just so sore.” You sniffled, tears still falling from the shame the disappointment in his tone made you feel.

“Don’t cry baby, just need you to listen, okay?” He dropped his grip on your hair, both hands cupping your face, looking lovingly into your glazed eyes. You could feel his cock growing beneath you, the sight of dark makeup running down your tear stained face serving as the perfect aphrodisiac. He adored seeing you all messy like this, his perfect angel looking like a filthy whore, only for his eyes to see.

“Think we can both get some relief tonight if you’re good, can you be good for me?” You frantically nodded your head. “Yes, I promise!” Your enthusiasm made him laugh low in the back of his throat, that goofy smile returning to his face.

“Need you to use your words and tell me what you want, can you do that?” His tone held sickly sweet condescension and you could feel yourself slipping into that mind numbing headspace, wishing he could just slip into your mind for a moment and see all the dirty things you wanted him to do to you.

“Need you inside, please.” Your words came out barely above a whisper and he knew he wouldn’t get too much more out of you before you devolved into a mewling mess, too lost in your own mind to articulate your thoughts, but he couldn’t help but play with you a little longer.

“Inside where, sweetheart? Here?” He mused, bringing his free hand to your mouth, pointer and middle fingers prodding at your parted lips. You quickly took them in, sucking softly on his digits as you shook your head no, oral fixation too strong to pass up the opportunity to have any part of him in your mouth.

“If that’s not what you want then you need to tell me, don’t be greedy.” He pulled his fingers from your lips with a pop, his tone falling an octave. Your eyes widened, nodding in acknowledgment, willing to do anything to please him at this point.

“I-I need you down here, please.” You took his wrist in your shaky hand, guiding him down to dip into the warm water, lifting your hips slightly so his hand could fit in the tight space between your bodies, pressing his fingertips to the tight ring of muscles at your entrance. You stopped, releasing his wrist, not wanting to break any unknown rule and let him take the reins from there. He brought the heel of his palm up to rut firmly against your clit, drawing quiet whimpers as you did your best to stay still.

“What do you want here, doll? My fingers, or something else?” He teased, dipping two of his fingers inside only up to the first knuckle, the slight stimulation almost torturous as he scissored his fingers inside, stretching open the first inch of your cunt.

“God, something else, please.” You sighed, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“What then?” He stopped his movements, withdrawing his hand and you groaned from the lack of friction.

“Your cock, Eddie, please just let me ride you.” You swore you were trying to be good, but you were starting to feel like you’d lose your mind if you didn’t get the stimulation you were in desperate need of and you didn’t care how impatient you sounded.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He laughed, his hands gripping your hips to guide you up just enough for his cock to stand upright in the water, the tip bumping against your weeping cunt. “Whenever you’re ready, babydoll. You want it so bad, you’re gonna do the work.”

You took his hint, bringing your hand beneath you to grip his member, finally sinking slowly down onto him until you could feel him in your stomach, the all too anticipated stretch making you cry out in relief after his teasing. He groaned, running a hand through his curls as he settled back against the edge of the tub, watching you start to slowly grind your hips, just feeling how full he made you feel.

After a few minutes you lifted your hips once more, starting a steady pace bouncing on his lap, the head of his cock rubbing against the tender patch of nerves deep inside your cunt, velvety walls engulfing him with every movement. The water surrounding you started to roll like waves, splashing against the sides of the tub, threatening to spill out onto the tile surrounding it. You took notice, slowly your movements to lessen the potential mess, and Eddie sighed.

“We’ll clean it up later baby, just let go.” He reassured you, secretly just as desperate as you were to get off. He didn’t care about a little clean up, let alone wiping some water off the floor.

You were hesitant but returned to your previous pace, angling your hips back to really allow his cock to hit the sensitive place inside you, euphoria slowly building in your core. Your gaze slowly shifted from his face and when you caught the sight of yourself in the mirrors surrounding the tub you gasped, the lewd image of your makeup stained face and your tits bouncing with every movement of your hips was something almost pornographic, really living up to the atmosphere of the room.

Eddie caught where your eyes had shifted to and groaned, throwing his head back to properly watch you get off to your own reflection.

“Look at yourself, bouncing on my cock like a desperate whore, making such a mess.” His hand came down to press against your lower stomach, his thumb rubbing quick circles over your clit until you were a moaning mess, your thighs burning with the almost brutal pace you were now maintaining.

“Want you to make me a daddy.” He moaned, his breaths becoming more labored. His statement broke you from your trance, your gaze falling back to his as you searched his eyes for any hint of sarcasm, but you found none, he wasn’t kidding.

“Can I knock you up, babydoll?” He reiterated the sentiment, increasing the pressure on your clit and feeling you pulse around him, your orgasm dangerously close.

“I need an answer before you or I can cum sweetheart.” He was panting, straining to prevent himself from finishing, and you did everything you could to pull yourself together enough to answer.

“Yes, Eddie, please!” You maimed, tears threatening your waterline from how close you were to the edge.

“Say it.” He groaned, locking eyes with you one last time.

“Please cum inside me daddy, please!” You cried out, tipping over the edge with one last slam of your hips, pleasure rolling over you in tandem with the waves of the water around you, your walls contracting over and over around him until his warmth spread throughout your cunt. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly against you until the aftershocks stopped wracking your body, relaxing on his lap.

“You okay angel?” His voice was strained but sweet as ever, always concerned about your wellbeing above anything else.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, smiling silently against his neck.

Once you were fully recovered, you raised off of him, both of you wincing at the loss momentarily before sinking under the now lukewarm water for one final rinse. You began to step out, Eddie right behind you to grab your waist when your foot almost slipped out from under you because of the slick tile.

“Careful babydoll, don’t want you to slip.” He held you firm as you stepped down, making sure you were safe on the ground level before following you out, handing you one of the fresh towels from the pile next to the tub. He wiped up the excess water off the ground as you dried yourself off, and you didn’t know if it was the cold air or the rational part of your brain turning back on, but something started to eat at you as you watched your boyfriend dry himself off.

“Is it okay that I called you that?” The worry in your voice almost made Eddie’s heart break into a million pieces, and he quickly wrapped the towel around his hips before taking you into his arms.

“I loved it, babydoll, I promise I would tell you if I didn’t.” He smoothed your hair away from your face, giving you a kiss on the forehead.

“How about we put on our pajamas and turn on a movie.” He smiled down at you, waiting for your approving nod before going to your bags on the dresser and pulling out your second pair of pj’s. He helped you into them before pulling on his own old band shirt and fresh boxers and crawling into the gaudy bed with you, cuddling up to watch whatever cheesy horror flick was airing on late night tv.

——

tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @your-nightmaredoll

also tagging: @babygorewhore @taintandviolent @littlexdeaths @eddiesxangel @bimbotrashcan bc i thought you might be interested, please message me if you’d like me to remove you

please message me or send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged in future eddie fics!!

#dividers by cafekitsune #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #mine #my writing #1k

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trashytracktales · 8 days ago

Note

omg I LOVE your writings, its my first time ever requesting one, hope u can write it (if u dont like it i would completely understand)

i was thinking about some lando thing, where his girlfriend is reading some spicy book and he accidentally reads some lines and the room gets hot lol, and when everything its done he is just the fluffiest boyfriend of the world

hope u are doing good🩵

By the book | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I genuinely had so much fun with this one, thank you so much for the request. Hopefully this is a nice first experience 😉🤍

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𐙚 summary ──── When boredom leads him to a new world, intense and full of possibilities, Lando wants to prove to his girlfriend that despite the perfect moments in her erotic books, the real deal is still better than fiction.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, established relationship, fluff & smut, descriptive language, fingering & oral ─ (f)receiving, unprotected sex, swearing, edging, teasing, roleplay elements, Max F. cameo.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.7k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 19, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Guys! I’ve got a couple more one-shots coming your way before the year wraps up, and I just wanted to thank you all so much for your patience and support. It means the world to me 🤍

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE FAINT GLOW from Lando’s monitors is the only light in the room, casting faint shadows over his side of the bed. It’s pretty late — later than it probably should be for him to start a streaming session — but Max insisted, and Lando figured it was either this or mindlessly scrolling through his infinite feed until falling asleep. His headset lies next to his keyboard, untouched, as he waits for his best friend to finish whatever pre-stream rituals he’s currently busy with.

From the en suite bathroom, the sound of running water echoes like ambient noise, muffled by the walls yet delicate, while his girlfriend showers. He glances at the door, thinking about how she had kissed him on the forehead just a few minutes ago, hair piled on top of her head in that messy bun he secretly loves. She had told him to have fun streaming, flashing him a sweet smile that made him wish she weren’t about to leave him alone to his boredom.

Lando sighs, spinning slightly in his chair, his gaze randomly falling to the nightstand on her side of the bed. A stack of books rests there unbothered, as it always does, each spine a different color. She goes through them so quickly that he can never keep up with what she’s reading now versus what she finished last week, that's why, normally, he doesn’t pay them much attention. But tonight, in the thick silence, with Max still not ready and the hum of the bathroom as his only company, he reaches for the book at the top of the stack.

The cover is intricate and inviting — soft, watercolor-like strokes of flowers in muted tones frame a bold, serif title. There’s no hint of what it’s about, and when he flips it over, the description on the back isn’t much help, either.

“Vague as hell,” he mutters under his breath after reading it.

He flips the book open, thumbing through the pages, noticing that she's halfway through it, with a scattering of sticky tabs peeking out from various places. A glance at the pages confirms his girlfriend’s habit of underlining sentences and jotting tiny notes in the margins. He smirks to himself, picturing her curled up on the couch, pen in hand, diligently marking her favorite parts, as she always does.

He stops at one of the tabs — a pink one — curiosity getting the best of him. The text beneath is neatly underlined, with a couple of notes scribbled faintly in the margin. His eyes skim over the words, and then he freezes, blinking at what he’s just read.

His hands roamed my bare skin with a deliberate slowness, mapping every curve, every dip. I gasped when his fingers dipped lower, teasing just enough to make me squirm beneath him. “Patience, my love,” he murmured against my neck, his voice rough with desire. “I'll give you what you need.”

Lando’s mouth goes dry, while his eyebrows shoot higher on his forehead. His fingers tighten slightly on the book as his eyes dart to the highlighted lines. She’s underlined “I'll give you what you need” and scrawled something next to it — he squints to make it out.

‘OMG. The tension here is insane,’ it reads, followed by ‘On. My. Knees’.

His pulse quickens, and he feels a flicker of heat low in his stomach.

Suddenly, Lando realizes how intimate it is to rummage through her annotations, as they are pure, unfiltered emotions, evoked by scenes that obviously awakened something in her when she read them, and now he feels way too guilty to continue.

But not enough to stop.

He flips ahead, stopping at another pink tab, as if he's on autopilot, guided by sheer curiosity alone.

My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, until there was no space left between us. His mouth was everywhere — on my lips, my collarbone, the sensitive skin of my nipples. I trembled as he kissed his way lower, his tongue leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I moaned his name, breathless, as he looked up at me with a smirk that promised more.

Lando swallows hard. He shifts in his chair, hyperaware of the heat creeping up his neck. He tells himself to stop, to close the book and put it back, but he can’t seem to help himself.

“You liked that, don’t you?” he asked in a whispered tone. I whimpered in response, my nails digging into his shoulders as my body arched into his touch. “You did, my good girl,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine. “Keep being good, and you'll get to cu—”

He sucks in a sharp breath, snapping the book closed. His mind betrays him, conjuring images of her beneath him, her breath hitching the way it does when he teases her, her hands clutching at him as she whispers his name in pleasure.

His jaw clenches, and he drags a hand through his hair, all too aware of the way the air has changed inside the room. Luckily, the vibration of his phone on the desk jolts him back to reality. He startles, nearly dropping the book in his lap.

Scrambling to grab his phone, he sees a text from Max:

“Shit,” Lando mutters under his breath.

He rushes to put the book back where he found it, his movements momentarily clumsy. He’s acutely aware of the way his body feels now — tense, restless, hot — as he makes himself more comfortable in his chair, tugging his headset over his ears.

The monitor flickers to life as Max joins the call, his voice loud and cheery in Lando’s ear. “Finally, mate! Thought you fell asleep or something.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando replies, his voice a little strained. “Let’s just get started.”

By the time she's done with showering and coming out of the bathroom dressed in one of his oversized t-shirts and towel-drying her hair, Lando is fully immersed in his racing game. She pauses in the doorway, watching him for a moment with a small smile on her face, and he catches her eye briefly, following her as she crosses the room, the t-shirt swallowing her frame entirely. He gives her a quick nod before returning his focus to the screens, while she climbs onto the bed and grabs the book from her nightstand, settling in against the pillows to read.

At that, Lando finds himself smirking.

It’s hard not to, knowing what’s tucked between those pages now. His fingers twitch on the steering wheel, but he keeps driving, throwing himself into the rave to avoid getting distracted.

“Mate, you’re lagging behind,” Max calls out through the headset, breaking Lando’s focus.

“Yeah, mate. Don't worry, I’m here,” he replies, steering his car to catch up.

Time passes in a blur of laughter, strategy, and the occasional curse as he and Max trade wins and losses. At some point, she gets up from the bed, her book left open and facedown on the comforter. Lando watches out of the corner of his eye as she pads over to him, stopping just out of frame.

“Want some tea?” she asks quietly, her voice careful not to interrupt his live stream.

Lando glances up at her briefly, his lips curling into a small smile. His hand leaves the steering wheel, trailing to the back of her thigh, his fingers traveling up slowly, squeezing the soft curve of her ass.

“Yeah,” he whispers, the word leaving him on a smirk.

Her breath catches in her throat at his touch, and she shoots him a pointed look, though the pink dusting her cheeks betrays her.

She swats his hand away lightly, protesting quietly, “Behave,” before disappearing into the kitchen.

TWO HOURS LATER, the game session finally winds down. Lando thanks the chat, throws a parting joke at Max, and shuts down his stream with a satisfied sigh. He swivels in his chair to find his girlfriend still awake, her book now resting on her stomach while she scrolls idly on her phone.

She glances at him and smiles kindly, watching as he heads to the bathroom, but when he gets back a few minutes later, he’s wearing nothing but a fresh pair of boxers and a wide smile. His skin glows faintly from the shower, and water droplets cling to the sharp angles of his collarbone.

Lando approaches the bed slowly, his gaze fixed on her. She looks up from her phone as he slides in beside her, his presence warm and familiar. Without a word, he takes the book from her stomach, his fingers brushing hers lightly as he closes it and sets it back on the nightstand. Then, he leans down, brushing his lips over hers in a kiss that’s soft but full of intent — definitely not the kind that he uses to send her to sleep. Quite the opposite. It makes her hum against his lips, her hand coming up to rest lightly on his chest as she kisses him back.

“You’re still wet,” she notices, pushing Lando lightly to look at him.

When he pulls away, his voice drops, small but teasing. “We can both be,” says Lando.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes, “Yeah, not tonight, buddy. You took too long, and I’m sleepy from all the reading.”

“Come on, just wrap your legs around my waist, and pull me closer, until there is no space left between us,” he murmurs the words deliberately.

For a second, her heart skips a beat, her eyes widening slightly as she registers his sentence. Blood rushes to her cheeks and beyond, her pulse quickening.

“What?” she asks, giving him a puzzled look.

Lando’s smirk deepens. He leans closer, letting his breath fan over her ear as he continues, his tone overly suggestive. “What? You don’t want my mouth everywhere? On your lips, your collarbone, the sensitive skin of your nipples?”

Her breath hitches, and her lips part in surprise. Her mind starts spinning as the words he’s quoting — the ones she underlined so carefully in her book — fall from his mouth.

“Lando,” she says cautiously, her voice shaky.

“Hm?” he asks innocently, his fingers ghosting over her hip beneath the t-shirt. “I hope it's okay, I’m just trying to remember what you liked so much. What else was there? Something about… good girls?”

She swats at his chest, but there’s no real force behind it. “You’ve been reading my stuff!”

His laughter is quiet, but there’s heat in his gaze as he leans down to kiss her again, this time deeper, as if he has a purpose.

When Lando pulls back just enough to catch her gaze, his eyes are glinting with mischief. His hand trails up her side, his thumb slowly brushing the soft curve of her waist through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

“And? What’s that about, baby?” he asks. “Don't you want to be my good girl?”

She lets out a soft laugh, a mix of flustered and amused, and presses a hand to his chest. “For the record, you’re not allowed to touch my books anymore,” she says, trying to sound stern but failing miserably when her cheeks flush under his intense gaze.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, leaning closer, his lips brushing her skin. “I think I learned a lot. Like how you’re into being told what to do, and being touched like this,” he continues, tracing the pads of his fingers up and down her body.

“Lando,” she protests, but her voice wavers, her breath hitching when his teeth graze the sensitive spot just beneath her earlobe.

“You marked all the good bits for me,” he says, his mouth trailing along her neck, placing soft, lingering kisses there. “Made it so easy, really.”

She shakes her head, trying to maintain her composure, but the warmth of his lips and the purposeful way his hands roam her body make it impossible. “You’re being ridiculous,” she whispers.

“And you’re so cute when you’re blushing,” he counters, his lips hovering just above hers. His tone shifts, teasing, giving way to something more profound. “Just know that if you ever want to recreate something from your books... all you need to do is ask, yes?”

Her breath catches as Lando’s fingers find the hem of her t-shirt and tug it upward. She lifts her arms without hesitation, letting him pull it over her head and toss it aside.

“And if you can't tell me, just underline the scenes,” he continues, smirking down at her. “I'll figure it out.”

“Lando…” her voice is much softer now, her eyes searching his, but he silences her with another kiss. Slow and lazy, his tongue dancing with hers on a rhythm only they know.

His hands move over her bare skin, stopping on her waist, then continuing until one of them curls around her neck, “My good girl,” whispers Lando against her lips, echoing the words from her book. “What should I do with you?”

She laughs softly, but it turns into a gasp as his lips leave hers, trailing down over her collarbone, while he squeezes lightly at her neck. He pauses to nip at the delicate dip at the base of her throat, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin. She smells like her vanilla body lotion, a faint scent that drives him wild.

“You don’t—” she tries to say something, but his mouth moves lower, and her words dissolve into a soft moan as he presses kisses across the swell of her breast, moving his hand on top of it to squeeze the flesh there.

“Relax, baby,” he says, looking up at her briefly, his expression a mix between adoration and pure need. “Just let me play by the book, yeah?”

Her cheeks burn at the intensity in his gaze, but she doesn’t look away. Her hands find his shoulders, holding onto him as his kisses travel lower, across her stomach, his tongue darting out to trace wet patterns against her skin.

When he reaches the waistband of her shorts, he glances up again, his fingers toying with the elastic. “Can I?” he asks softly, his voice full of want.

She nods, her breath shaky, and lifts her hips to help him slide them down her legs.

Lando kisses along her inner thighs, taking his time, savoring the way her body reacts to every little, torturous touch. She’s already trembling under him, anticipation coiling in her stomach as he hooks his arms around her thighs, spreading her legs wider.

“So ready for me, hm?” asks Lando, reaching for a pillow, and sliding it beneath the small of her back, adjusting her gently until she’s perfectly positioned for him. “Every time I open your pretty legs, fucking hell.”

She nods, chewing on her lower lip as she feels his hot breath falling over her skin. The first swipe of his tongue along her slit has her gasping, her head falling back on the mattress, unable to keep her eyes on him. Lando groans, the sound reverberating through her, his movements teasing, as always.

Her hands find his hair, threading through the damp strands as she arches toward him, desperately wanting to feel the heat of his tongue on her.

He looks up, his lips glistening while smirking. “Better than your book so far?”

“Mhm,” she breathes, her voice catching as he dips lower, his tongue working in a rhythm that has her eyes rolling.

He breathes heavily as he runs his tongue over her clit, teasing her hole with the tip. It's too much for her, yet still not enough to make her body shudder, but only ache for more instead. Luckily, Lando doesn’t stop, his hands gripping her hips to hold her in place as he gives himself entirely to her, the soft sounds she makes driving him on.

Patiently, he brings his fingers between her folds, opening her even more, little by little. When he pushes in the second finger, she moans his name again, which encourages him to curl them inside her, feeling her pussy tighten around him, the sound alone making him so painfully hard.

Lando’s mouth doesn’t leave her for a long while, drawing every gasp, every shudder from her as if it’s his life’s purpose. His tongue flicks, teases, and presses, his movements confident and practiced but still reverent, like he’s savoring her in a way words could never describe.

She’s close, and Lando knows it from the way her thighs tighten around his shoulders, and the way her fingers tug at his hair, grounding herself as the pleasure builds higher and higher. It makes him hum against her wetness, the muffled sound forcing a loud gasp out of her. But right when she approaches the edge, his mouth pulls away, leaving her breathless and shaking.

“Why did you—Lando!” she starts to protest, but her words are cut off when he moves up her body, kissing a heated trail along her stomach, her breasts, and up her neck.

“Patience, baby,” he whispers, the word heavy with intent. “Isn’t that what your book said?”

She squeezes her eyes shut, her breath hitching as she remembers the very scene he’s playing out now. “I couldn’t care less about my book right now, Lando.”

He smirks, his hand sliding between her legs to tease her hole again, his fingers brushing over her sensitive heat with a featherlight touch. “Tell me what you want, then. I want to hear you say it.”

Her heart pounds, her mind is spinning, and the tears are so close from slipping out of her eyes. He's still quoting her stupid book, when he should be fucking her into oblivion instead. Even though now those words feel entirely different coming from his mouth, spoken in that low, rough voice that sends shivers down her spine, only makes her cry in protest when his fingers keep playing with her clit. The pressure he applies is measured enough to just keep her on the edge, but never pushing her over it.

“I want you,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. “Need you, please.”

“And if I ask you, pretty please, to say it again, will you?” his soft voice forces another moan to slip from her lips, his fingers dipping into her pussy, slow and teasing, feeling her walls constricting around them.

She nods, swallowing hard, “You,” she repeats, louder this time, her hips rolling against his hand. “I want you.”

Lando hums in approval, his lips curling into a satisfied smile as he leans down to kiss her, his fingers moving with more intent now. “So good for me, aren't you?” he asks against her lips, and the words make her whimper, heat pooling in her belly.

It doesn’t take long for him to position himself between her thighs, his body fitting against hers like they were made for each other. Unfortunately, he takes his time, teasing her with his length, dragging himself over her wetness, his eyes never leaving hers.

“So good and needy, is that why you read those books?” he asks, mostly curious than anything. “You need something to keep you stimulated all the time? Because if that's the case, we can—”

“Please, Lando,” she begs, her hands gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, while breathing heavily.

He chuckles, satisfied, “I've got you, baby, you know I do.”

His restraint snaps at her plea, and he pushes into her hard yet measured, his gaze locked on hers as he fills her inch by inch. Her head falls back, a broken moan spilling from her lips as he bottoms out, his hips flush against hers.

“Fuck, you wrap around me so good,” he mutters, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. He waits for her to adjust, his hands running soothingly over her thighs, her waist, and her breasts.

“Move,” she whimpers, her voice breathless as she drags her nails over his back.

He obeys, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm that has her arching beneath him, her body responding to his every thrust. He leans down, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that’s as much about love as it is about hunger — a desperate desire to show her that he can be whatever she needs him to be.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathes against her mouth. “Every inch of you.”

Her body rises to meet his with every thrust, their movements fluid and desperate as the tension coils tighter and tighter. His name falls from her lips like a prayer, and he drinks it in, his mouth finding the sensitive spot on her neck once again.

“Lan…” she cries out, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him even deeper inside her.

“Yes, baby. Wanna hear you,” he continues, his hand slipping between them to find the bundle of nerves that has her crying out again, her body trembling beneath him as his thumb circles around her clit. “Let go for me, come on.”

She shatters beneath him, her release washing over her in waves as she clings to him, her nails raking down his back. He follows moments later, her name a rough groan on his lips as he spills into her, his body shaking with the force of it.

This will always be better than anything, she realizes — better than any fantasy, any scenario, and any book. Just them, sharing each other in every possible way, then taking their time to come down. Together.

Their bodies are still tangled when Lando asks, “So? Was it better?” his voice is rough, but playful as he brushes a strand of hair from her face.

She laughs, her cheeks flushed, and pulls him down for one more kiss; of course he knew what she was thinking about.

“I think it might’ve been,” she teases.

“Oh? Might’ve?” Lando scoffs, his grin widening. “Guess we’ll just have to try again and make sure, then.”

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

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thefreakandthehair · 16 days ago

Text

cabin.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompts: cabin | wc: 699 | rating: teen & up | tags: steve pov, steve harrington has a crush on eddie munson, good uncle wayne, sharing body heat, one bed, fluff, getting together

Wayne and Eddie have been so accommodating, so kind, and almost embarrassingly welcoming to him joining their annual ice fishing road trip to Michigan that asking for an extra blanket feels criminal. With how much they’ve opened their arms to him after his parents all but ghosted for the holiday season, he’d rather freeze to death in this fucking cabin than dare to ask for something as stupid as an extra blanket. Besides, the cabin is small enough that he and Eddie are sharing a room; eventually, he’ll come to bed, feel how cold it is for himself, and go grab extra blankets on his own.

He’ll survive for as long as it takes for Eddie and Wayne to finish the spaghetti western they’d been watching when he came to bed.

Steve’s been through worse.

Cool moonlight streams in beneath the thick, plaid curtains and illuminates the far wall, accentuating its wooden details and the knickknacks lining the shelves— a collection of small, handmade stuffed wildlife, framed photos of the lake, books with worn spines well-loved over the years. It’s a quiet space, a sanctuary that Steve’s never had even if he might lose a few toes.

Is the cabin the sanctuary? Or is it the rare time alone with Eddie?

He tries not to think about how many times he’s thought of this over the last couple years, how often he’s laid in bed imagining Eddie coming to bed with him and not just in the ways that make him squirm and sweat. He’s pictured it a hundred times over: Eddie sneaking in beneath the covers, trying not to wake him up but it’s not like Eddie has ever been smooth a day in his life. Steve would wake up from a light sleep, turning over to welcome him in and pull him close, wrinkling his nose against Eddie’s frizzy curls as he buries his face in Steve’s neck. He’d listen to him breathe, feel his body grow heavier and heavier against Steve’s and fall asleep to the even cadence of his heartbeat.

Steve takes a deep breath and shakes his head, focusing instead on the organic spirals and swirls of the logs that make up the cabin walls. With heavy-lidded eyes that grow heavier despite the cold, he traces the markings and imagines patterns and pictures in them the way he had the starts as a kid. One looks like a moose without its antlers, another like an abstract palm tree. He doesn’t find a third one, and falls asleep trying.

When he wakes up a couple of hours later, Steve’s warm.

Extra blankets, soft wool, weigh him down and he sighs into the comforting presence that engulfs him. One tattooed arm rests over his hip and another squeezes beneath his pillow, a hand outstretched with silver rings that cover each finger and gleam in the slivers of light that continue to creep in between the curtains. Blinking his eyes open and biting the inside of his cheek to make sure he’s not dreaming, Steve realizes the warmth he’d woken up chasing is Eddie.

Do I move over? Does he realize I’m not a pillow? Does he actually want this the way I want this? Did I die of hypothermia after all? Does he—

“You think really loud, Steve,” Eddie whispers into the dark, his lips moving against Steve’s hair as he squeezes him gently around the middle. “Is this okay?”

“Mhm,” Steve hums. “You’re so warm.”

“Good, you were shivering when I came to bed.” He feels Eddie chuckle behind him, quiet breaths against his neck. He wants to turn around, to tuck himself into Eddie’s comfort and maybe just never leave.

“Didn’t wanna bother you or Wayne for another blanket. Kinda glad I didn’t now,” Steve admits, words slurring as his shoulders sag. He wiggles back, trying to get impossibly closer.

“We’ll talk more about that in the morning.” Eddie squeezes a knee between Steve’s and tangles their legs together.

Steve nods wordlessly, pulling the top blanket further up beneath his chin.

The last thing he remembers before drifting back to a dream that has no chance of rivaling reality is the feeling of Eddie’s lips against his temple.

#steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #steddie fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steddieholidaydrabbles #myblurbs #missed a few days because life but i'm baaaaack!!#will i ever move these to ao3? who's to say

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hoshigray · 10 months ago

Note

I told you I was going to do it and here I am lmao. Any who reader and Toji are bumming on the couch watching a movie within the movie there is a spicy scene involving 69 that is mediocre. It gives reader an idea to make a bet with Toji to see who can last the longest. Toji isn't budging at first but when the reader mentions that they want to do in the same position within the movie (something they never did before) he gladly accepts the challenge. I'll leave the plot and ending up to you love. I know you will work your magic for him.

69 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 .ᐟ | toji fushiguro

hehehe ty jazz, i'll do my best for youuu ☆☆☆

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x fem/afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - masturbation (m! receiving) - 69 position - oral (f! + m! receiving) - impact play (spanking + f! receiving) - overstimulation - clitoral play (licking and sucking) - pet names (baby, doll, mama, pretty thing) - mention of saliva/spit. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.9k

“Wow….this movie kinda sucks.”

“Mhm…Aye, y’re the one who wanted to watch this shit.”

“Well, I mean, at least it’s…semi-enjoyable.”

Toji and you were sitting on the couch, winding down in the living room after a nourishing dinner. One of the many things you liked to do with your man was to watch movies, figuring that would be a perfect thing to do during the downtime to chill and huddle with your man. What you didn’t expect, however, was how underwhelming the movie seemed.

It was one of those rated R movies batted around within the year, figuring now would be an ideal time to get to it. Welp, it was entertaining enough for you two to continue watching. Now, being midway through, it’s getting a little frustrating to deal with.

“Oh, okay…” annnnnd now the film has transitioned to an abrupt sex scene….how great. “I guess this is why it’s rated R.”

The sex scene you two were watching was…average at best. You’ve seen way spicier scenes in your life — hell, literal cringey porn you’ve watched with your friends was heavily more explicit than this. There was the rushed kissing, the frantic clothes coming off, no amount of foreplay whatsoever — just heading right into it, exaggerated cries coming from the woman as the guy frantically humps her nude frame.

You observe the scene through a neutral gaze as you lay against Toji’s side, his arm stretched to your shoulder to keep you close. But then, your head tilts when something on the screen catches your attention.

The camera pans to the guy’s face, who’s lying on the bed as the other straddles them, facing his lower half. For a few seconds, you can only see the guy’s face until the camera follows him going closer to the girl’s ass that’s hovered before him. His tongue sticks out before he propels his mouth to her bottom, and her muffled moans can be heard off-screen with his grunts.

Loud, amateur sounds aside, the position sparked something for you to turn and ask the following to your boyfriend: “Hey, Toji?” He hums, feeling the vibration of his voice from your hand on his chest. “Have you ever done that position?”

You can see his eyebrows trench down — not bewildered by your question, but pondering how he could answer truthfully. “Mmm…I think so? Been a long while, though.”

You nod aimlessly with your eyes glued to the screen, hearing the woman’s whimpers get a bit louder as the guy grasps her ass while “eating her out.” The thought of being on top of Toji and his mouth and hands on your body like that, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to remind yourself not to get too—

“Why you ask; ya horny?” Well, you can’t be too modest around this man, huh. You finally turn to look at him, prepared for the smirk he greets you with. A smile is all you reply with. “Sorry, baby, I don’t know about tonight. Kinda tired.”

For a few seconds, you’re on his side. You understand he’s a little fatigued from work today and only wants to chill with his partner. However, a tiny part of you – the devilish cutie side – takes over and slides your hand from his chest. Down to his hard abs covered by his black wife beater, stopping at his clothed inner thigh, resulting in him hitching his breath.

“Tired?” You say in a soft tune, your eyes peering down to your hand as it rubs on his thigh, inching further and further in. You take note of Toji’s fingers tapping on your shoulder – a silent warning. “Are you sure about that?”

“You better move that hand, Y/n.” His body jolts when your hand creeps up to his groin, motioning around it with provocative kneads.

“Hmm, why?” You play coy, placing kisses on the underside of his chin. “You tired of me?”

He throws his head back at your soft lips, attacking his neck while your hand comes to the hem of his sweatpants. A shaky breath is released at the contact of your cold fingers on his warm erection. “Hmmm…could never be tired of you….Ahhh,“ your forefinger swipes around the glans.

“Then what are you so scared of?” You keep pressing on, sucking on his skin under your lips. His length gets firmer under your grasp, veins grazed by your fingertips. “Scared you wouldn’t last longer than me?”

“Ohh, don’t play with me, Y/n,” Toji grunts, the hand on your shoulder grips your cardigan. His erect cock throbs on your palm, and precum begins to leak out from you, playing with the tip. “–Mmmph…I already told you I wasn’t feelin’ it tonight.”

Liar, you say to yourself, noting him breathing slowly while you massage his balls. “Please, Toji?” You ask sweetly to his ear, his hand coming down to your waist as you stroke him off. “I never done that position before, but it looks real fun…I wanna do it with you.”

Toji doesn’t give in easily, looking at you with a raised brow. So you throw in another please with an innocent pout and two bats of the eyes to seal the deal. He chortles; how can he say no to you looking at him like that? “Bet I can make you lose within the first few minutes.”

You beam at him, “Bet I can make you cum first.”

“Y’re not gonna last for very long, princess, I can promise you that.”

A smirk pulls your cheeks. “Let’s try it out then.”

And just like that, with a mutual agreement, the challenge was put to the test.

So here you are, straddling on top of Toji on the living room couch, both your bottoms and his sweats on the cold floor. Your bare ass out in front of him to see as he lies with his head on the couch pillow. Your front facing his legs, and his dick erected for you to lick and suck on.

It started slow in the beginning; Toji massages your asscheeks as you lick around the glans and stroke his girth. “Mmmm, just like that, mama,” he praises, egging you on to take in more of him. Your mouth bobbing up and down his shaft, gradually taking in inch by inch until your mouth reaches the hilt. “Fuuck, feels so good…”

You aren’t forgotten either, Toji starting with slow licks, his tongue lapping your labia. You mewl on his cock, voluntarily moving your hips to satiate the throbs of your cunt. Shit, you love it when he eats you out, but this position makes you turn on even more — unable to see what he’s doing, letting his hands and tongue speak for himself.

And you have to give it to yourself; you mangled to survive for a little while! The first minute was just him warming you up, teasing your folds with swishes to get you real wet as you blow him, his fingers groping your ass as his thumb plays around your ass taint. It all had you riled up, rocking your lower half so much that the man had to station you still for him to feast on your wetness properly.

It wasn’t until you felt his tongue brush up on your clitoris did shit get serious. One sharp, muffled gasp paired with a jolt from your body. Of course, Toji noticed, his grin coming from ear to ear. “Oh, did I do that?” Yes, you did, you bastard. “Heh, you are not ready for this, baby…”

He says this before stuffing his mouth back into your leaky chasm so his tongue could swirl around your slit with vigor so rough that you nearly choked on your gasp for air. “—Oohh!! W–Wait, Toji, not so—Ahhn!” Fast licks have you squirm, prompting your man to keep you on him with his hands on your waist. It’s hard to concentrate giving Toji a blowjob with him nibbling on your labia before throwing more laps on your clitoris.

“Wait, Toji, s-stoop; I’m gonna—Nnaaah!” Your fingers clamp around his girth, howling as he bullies his tongue to enter your vagina, his face buried nose-deep in your ass while sucking on your genitals. “Fuuck, oh shit, I can’t…Ohh, ohhh!!”

And just like that, you release into his mouth before you could even prepare yourself. Your trembling figure jolts with every shock coursing through your body. And Toji drinks your essence with every passing wave, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you straddled above him.

Oh fuck, the clarity you experience is mind-blowing every time he eats you out — whimpers escape pretty lips as your sensitive nerves still receive gingerly laps on your soapy folds. That felt way too good, oh my God…

But it doesn’t stop there — no, no. Not with Toji, too pleased with how he made your legs tremble before him. He snickers while spreading your folds, “Pretty thing, look at you winking at me...Nnmm, so fuckin’ good…”

He brings his mouth back to your cunt, and you jerk from the contact as your body is still not rid of the shocks from the previous orgasm. You frantically call for him, trying to writhe your ass away from him. “Ohhnn, Toji, wait, let me rest for a—Ahhhnn!!“

A sharp pain comes from an abrupt smack to your buttcheek, the skin stinging from the impact of Toji’s hand. “Aht, aht, don’t try and run now. You talked big earlier, even when I warned you.” He smacks your ass again, his fingers digging deep into your flesh to pinch. You scream for him — that’s what he wants. “Now you’re gonna sit right here and let the winner have his fill.”

You can’t argue with him from there; Toji’s hold on you not giving in to your attempts of mercy — same for his mouth on your delicate labia. The noises coming from there are so raunchy, downright erotic, way more than whatever the hell that movie was doing. You could only wail out your cries, eyes spiraling up to your head from every lap to your clit. No point fighting the pleasure, resting your head on his thigh.

But that was short-lived because Toji was quick to correct you with another slap to your butt. Shit came out of nowhere, almost choking on your spit. “C’mon now, doll, you can’t leave me hangin’ here. Suck me off, princess.” He rubs the pain on your butt away, yet you know he’d do it again if you weren’t compliant.

You bring his fat cock back to your face, licking on the tip while stroking him. You take in the head and suck him in, bobbing your head and coating his length with your saliva. Kisses to his glans result in him burrowing his face into your ass again, hungry lips ravishing your tender insides. Jesus, the way his tongue flicks on your clit has you humming on his cock nonstop.

Oh, God, oh fuuuuck, you remove your lips from Toji’s dick, yet your hand keeps gliding up and down. “—Mwah! Hoohhh, oohhh, Tojiiii…! Again, I’m gonna cum, again….Khaa—Ohhhhh!!”

The second orgasm hits you hard, more keenly than the last, and your body quivers on top of Toji once again. Whines come from wet lips as you descend into your haze, and your toes curl as Toji doesn’t withdraw himself until he’s satiated his thirst with every remnant of your fluids.

With every jolt and shock flowing down your frame, you use this time to let your body ride this high out, placing chaste kisses on Toji’s cock. That is until you feel Toji suck on your folds suddenly. You jump and quake, turning around to beg. “Stooohp; let me rest, please!”

He gives you a smug look with a playful smack to your hot, stinging butt. “Done being curious now, mama?”

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

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1-800-local-slut · 3 months ago

Text

Elijah loves to fuck.

It’s a little bit scary because he’s one of those guys who you would expect it from but the real deal is way crazier. He’s the type to hold you in place while he kisses you down your neck and make sure you were literally shaking.

You’d think it would be Klaus who’s insatiable (and he definitely is) but Klaus is like that because he just randomly wants to fuck you. Elijah gets turned on like magic.

You can take off your coat, just a little bit slow with your hair wrapped around your shoulder and your neck is visible, and now you’re in missionary. You’re bouncing up and down, and Elijah’s gripping the sheets next to your head. He’s staring deeply into your soul as he thrusts into you hard. Like he wants to break your pussy or something. And he might be trying too, you never know with him.

He’s talking to you, but quite a bit to himself, about how good you feel. About how cute you are, about how you should know better than to get him turned on in the middle of the day, about how it’s okay because your so pretty that he just HAS to forgive you. And when you try to squeeze out a sentence of rebuttal his big strong hands grab your warm face and he plants a kiss to your lips that has you wriggling under him and hoping this lasts forever.

In his mind, it’s your fault that you both spend so much time in bed. That he can’t stop grabbing your breast (he hates whenever you call them tits if you must refer to them in a way like that then he’ll accept boobs) and he can’t stop putting them in his mouth and making you melt. You look so good and you take such good care of him and the people he cares about that he just has to reward you for that.

How can he stop himself? When he wakes up horny, and has to go through the day stuffed in his suit. Then he sees you preparing to make breakfast for him in the kitchen. With that ass he adores and those breast he just can’t get enough of. His favorite handfuls. Your braids that you insisted had to be waist length are pulled into a pony tail that frames your face perfectly with two curled strands cupping your soft face. And you’re probably wearing a sun dress to combat the NOLA summer sun. He can’t help but want to take you in the kitchen.

But Elijah is a gentleman so settles for hugging you from behind and letting his hands roam up and down while whispering enticements in your ear.

“Why don’t you just come up to bed?”

“Elijah it’s 9:30 in the morning, I’m far from tired”

“Why don’t you come up to bed and let me reward you for looking so good?”

And it always works. The combination of him touching you like that and kissing your neck and whispering in your ear? Oh yeah. Draws dropped.

Now you’re back in bed in your room which was still messy from the night before when you came home from dinner and he put you up against your bedroom door.

Your dress was still on the chair from where he tossed it off you.

And he’s slowly peeling your dress off your body, while you rip off the buttons of his shirt with a tenderness. He’s looking at you like he wants to eat you, and he might do that. But when he slips his hand into your underwear and feels how warm and wet you are it’s ridiculous. He has no time to do anything else he has to fuck you and he has to do it now.

After all this time, you still seemed a little embarrassed at how wet you were but the other thing Elijah loves is that you’re a grown woman who also likes to fuck.

It’s why you both work so well.

And he’s already gotten you started. He knows it, because he knew the second he started feeling the soft warmth of your stomach and he felt your heart rate speed up he knew it. Elijah Mikaelson doesn’t just lay with any woman. You had to be a freak on some level but he lucked out with you.

You’ve unbuttoned the top of his shirt, and you won’t stop kissing him. It’s like he’s hypnotized you (which he would never do, to Elijah your word is basically law) and you’re fully giving him power. Your hands fumble with his belt buckle and you make sure you run your hand over his erection a few times. He feels you smiling into his kisses as he jumps his hips into your hand.

The way you whimper when he picks you up and places you on your back on your shared mattress, he gets a smell of your perfume and can’t help the growl that escapes him. Then he’s holding you by your face as he demeans you just a bit for wanting him so bad.

“What would you do without me? There’d be no one to take care of you and we couldn’t have that could we?” Then he’s going to nibble you on your neck.

He decides, to hell with your dress. He could just rip it but he does like this dress on you and doesn’t feel like going to the store for a new one. He doesn’t want to take his hands off you. He doesn’t want to back away long enough to take off your dress. He pulls down the top to free your breast, stunned by their beauty like always. You had tan lines, one part of your skin a lighter brown than the rest. The area around your breast covered by your bikini more specifically when you two head out into the sun for a swim.

Your underwear he didn’t mind ripping off and you were trying your best to get as much of his shirt off as possible. One of you needed to be sensible though. So you pushed him off for just a moment and looked up at him while you tore off his belt. He was standing over you at the edge of the bed while you were on your knees still on the bed.

You wanted it so bad it made him laugh. You were looking at him with those big brown eyes and you were breathing heavily. He ran his hands over your braids, and couldn’t help but bite his lip when he imagined what he was about to do to you.

You yanked his pants down, and then his boxers. All seven and a half inches of him sprung out at you and you, ever eager, gave him a long lick. Elijah shuddered, it was like you just sent an electric shock up him. Good god you were something. But Elijah didn’t have the time for all that, because of course Elijah has to do something with his days. Like cleaning up after his siblings. He could always get a blowjob later. Maybe he’d give you some too. Who was he kidding? Elijah loved giving head like it was no one’s business. But I’ll write about that later.

Did I mention that he loves being on top of you? In the sense that he has to be on top of you intimately. Squished on top of you, while he fucks you and you cream all over him.

He slides into you and can’t help the groan that escapes him. His head rolls back on instinct, and you shudder entirely.

He starts moving, rocking his hips into yours the way you like. Warm and wet, and tight with your back arching slightly. He presses his chest down against yours with his shirt open and his suit jacket stuck against his sweaty skin. The bed starts rocking as he picks up the pace and pulls your head to look him in his eyes.

It’s your weak point naturally. Elijah knows he’s handsome that’s why he keeping looking at you like that. He knows you can’t handle staring him in the face like that, and that it makes you want to act all types of crazy when he’s inside of you.

He likes asking you questions while he pounds into you. He does it hard but in a way that doesn’t make you feel like he hates you.

“Tell me how you feel.” You know things along that line.

And when he gets close to cumming, you can see the veins under his eyes start to push to the surface. His breathing gets heavier, but the effect he has on you is so much worse. He doesn’t even know but the way he has you folded on your back, begging him to cum inside of you speaks volumes when you were usually such a composed woman. But Elijah usually wouldn’t be muttering nonsense about putting a baby in you (especially when you both know it isn’t possible) so it works.

He likes when you both cum at the same time. He likes squeezing your breast tenderly, with the right amount of aggression to turn you on. He’s in your head, filling your brain with filthy images. He’s talking you through it, and then you’re both cumming. Elijah cups your face and tosses his head back (partially because his instinct is to bite you and he doesn’t want to scare you by biting you with no warning) and you’re letting out moans that Elijah wants to die hearing.

Elijah loves to fuck. He loves the soft tender feeling of squishing you, and feeling you grind up against him. He’s loves spanking you when you act out (brat tamer Elijah is coming soon trust) of line. He loves squeezing your neck just slightly. He loves when you pull out your variety of freaky tricks and when you let him have full control over your body. He’s loves you above all else. And fucking your brains out is one of his favorite ways to show it.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

You guys can’t stop me, I’m on a roll

Guys Elijah has literally possessed me and I’m very much happy about it. I will not stop writing about Elijah I don’t even care if this is bad I just needed people to see my thoughts about him. He’s been my man since I was ten.

Anyways I don’t really know what this is either, I was scrolling through tumblr and randomly saw some porn so now you guys get to read this. Love you all and thanks for reading 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

#black reader #x black reader #x reader #fem reader #multifandom account #requests open #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson smut #Elijah Mikaelson x black reader

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themeraldee · 4 months ago

Note

I think a great awkward sex fic could be homelander making love for the first time.

Not losing his virginity, but having sex with someone he loves

anon you're sooooooo smart!!!! I love this idea so much. After being in such a funk this reignited me and I had to write it now!! It took a different turn at the end but I don't dictate what the characters do!! thank you for this idea and please enjoy 🩷

Imperfectly Perfect

[Masterlist] [AO3]

18+ Only | 2.7k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Awkward sex. Realistic sex. Embarrassing sex noises. Feelings of inadequacy. Homelander being a mild drama queen. Cunnilingus. Unprotected sex.

Looking back at it, it was meant to be perfect.

Homelander eagerly ushered you back to his penthouse after an incredible date out. He pulled out all the stops, renting out the top rated, most expensive restaurant just for you. He spent the entire night charming your pants off with his strangely charismatic and at times awkward self.

Buzzing with anticipation he couldn’t wait to show you what else he had in store for you. You’ve changed his perception of everything. Ever since you’ve wormed your way into his heart, he’s locked the way out and threw away the key. You’ve made him feel like nobody else ever has and he thought it high time he repay the favor. That’s why tonight had to be perfect.

He wanted to show you what awaits you in your shared future.

He had some poor Vought employees absolutely drown his penthouse with bouquets of rich red roses, rose petals strewn across most surfaces, candles illuminating every corner, highlighting the glittering gold of the picture frames adorning his walls. Smooth jazz played in the background at a low volume sealing the deal on what ended up feeling like a scene plucked from an elaborate Valentine’s day ad.

“Wow! This is—wow! Homelander, you didn’t have to do all this.” You looked around the space, taking in the change with a shock and awe on your face. This quickly turned into a beautiful bright smile that made Homelander feel like he was on top of the world. He’s obviously doing something right.

“Anything for my girl.” He pulled you in gently, making the dress he’s picked for you twirl prettily. “Come with me,” he pressed a kiss to your soft lips, letting them linger for a little while while he inhaled the scent of your perfume—also his choice—and the roses surrounding you both. At that moment he thought that tonight would be perfect, one for the books.

And now? It didn’t take long for it to already be turning into a disaster.

From his point of view at least.

You’re sitting at the edge of the bed, leaning back on your arms as you watch the show. You asked to watch him take off his suit, promising that you’d give him just as good of a show as he would.

Prior to this he has taken his elaborate suit off thousands of times anytime he’d go to bed. Now he’s struggling as if both of his hands were left-handed and this was his first suit fitting. He’s so tense, his nerves tighter than a bow string making his hands shake while he unclasps the cape, immediately folding it on the rack out of habit before he continues unzipping his suit. His heart is beating like a drum in his ears, he wouldn’t be surprised if even your ordinary ones could pick up on it.

It’s not that he’s never had sex. It’s just that the anticipation of what he’s built up in his head is making him overthink his every move. He needs you to know that he can be like this for you. Because the perfect mainstream image of romance is what every woman dreams of—right?

When the zipper gets stuck and doesn’t let him unzip like normal he panics internally. There were meant to be no hiccups today!

Observant that you are, you stand up as soon as you see him struggle and swear and take the step closer to him. “Let me help you.” You put your hands on his before sliding them up his forearms, then shoulders before going down to rest on his chest.

“How about you let me undress you and then you undress me.” You give him a cheeky smile, trying to break the tension he put himself into. “Does that sound good?” You ask quietly and breathy as you undo the zipper he was struggling with.

He nods curtly, feeling ashamed that he’s admitting to a fault on his part.

But with the continuous dreamy eye-contact you slowly help him out. Undoing clasps, and zippers of his convoluted uniform.

He was less worried about you seeing him naked than he is about the whole performance of it all. He’s let you see him without the suit before. Early into your blooming relationship you’ve stumbled upon him covered in blood. It only made sense to take the shower together as you helped him wash all of it off. But even then, he didn’t want it to go further. He said he had plans and asked you to let him make it perfect.

When he’s finally fully naked he pulls you in for a hot kiss. It’s almost in gratitude at helping him mend the situation and put it back on track. He walks you back to the bed pushing you on it. He’s only about half hard, which is unusual for him as Homelander easily gets a hard-on in a split second anytime you just look at him a certain way. So it’s a surprise that he’s not panting and leaking with the way you look tonight.

Clearly, he’s still stuck in his head.

With each kiss he presses into your skin, tasting the softness of your every spot he gets more and more excited. Slowly melting into you with each little huff you let out as he kisses your body, undressing you in tandem. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He growls into your ear before kissing you flush on the lips. Hot and heavy, he licks into your mouth, moaning at the way you pull at his hair when you rake your fingers through it.

Just as you want to take some control back, treat him the same way he’s treating you, he stops you.

“Nuh, uh. Ladies first. Let me make you feel good.” He rumbles as he pushes your hands off his body. You look pleased at his words, giving him an excited little grin.

And just like that, he’s finally taking control of the situation again. He’s got a script in his head and he needs to follow it to a tee.

Down on his knees, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. Already spreading your legs open, unabashedly inhaling the scent of you, already aroused and wet for him. He grins like a shark to himself. Without giving you much heads-up or taking it slow he just straight up buries himself in between your legs.

Just the smell of you had his cock finally turning rock hard, now with the taste of you he feels it twitching, drooling precum from the tip.

He’s licking you open, spreading you with his tongue. Like a mad man who doesn’t know where to focus first, with little rhythm he changes between strongly sucking at your clit, pointing his tongue sharply and running circles around your clit right before shoving his tongue into you, tongue-fucking you just like he imagines will leave your mind blown.

Except.

“Little softer, please.” You sound out in between sweet little sighs. You’ve taken to running your nails through his hair, giving his scalp a little massage while he went to town on you.

“M’sorry.” He mumbles into your pussy as he quickly looks up at you. He slows down with his urgency though he’s a little peeved at the way he’s not been able to rock your world yet.

“Don’t be—ah—it’s great. I just like it a little softer.”

It’s great? Great?! It should be mind-blowing, incredible, glorious! Not just great. Immediately his ego takes a hit but he doesn’t outwardly show it. In his mind you should’ve been moaning and shaking for him, coming on his tongue while he got his fill of you.

This doesn’t happen.

And while he’s doing better, making you moan a little louder, forcing small gasps out of you as he softens his tongue flat, gently laving over your clit before sucking on it softly. He’s not making you cum and that’s killing him.

You suddenly sharply tug on his hair and at first he thinks you’re getting close but you pull again and he looks up at you confused.

“Come up here.” You guide him up.

“But you didn’t finish.” He scrunches his eyebrows confused and for a second he looks like an innocent sweet puppy.

“I don’t wanna come yet. I’m actually usually done after one orgasm so I reaaally want to have you inside me for the big finish you know?” You sign that off with a wolfish grin that he immediately eats up as he climbs up to devour you, making you taste yourself on his lips.

With the thoughts of being inside you where it’s all soft and warm and really just made for his cock, he abandons his thoughts of inadequacy.

And as much as you want to participate, Homelander keeps pushing you off, instead focusing on your body and all the places he hasn’t managed to kiss yet.

When he swats your hand away from his cock again you ask. “Why won’t you let me return the favor?”

“Another time.”

“But I wanna blow you! It’s not fair, why can’t I?” You keep pouting and you’re as adorable as you are annoying because as much as he’s sure your mouth will feel amazing he’s even more certain that your pussy will be fucking incredible. And he definitely won’t make it through both.

“Because I’ll bust, alright?” He swats your hands away instead pinning your wrists down onto the plush bedding making you yelp in surprise and arousal. He can sense the way that got you all excited. “Now just let me fuck you… please?” He says before kissing you again.

You automatically spread your legs. He kneels on the bed, sitting on his heels as his eyes immediately lock onto the sight of your pussy, still pretty and wet for him. A sight that makes his heart swell. Part of him was worried you wouldn’t want him with such voracity. He made sure to keep some lube on hand in case you wouldn’t get wet enough for it to be comfortable for you but he was preening that he managed to get you this wet.

Homelander let one of his fingers glide down your slit, gathering the slick before pushing a finger in, immediately groaning at the intense heat of your cunt. He couldn’t wait to get his cock in you.

He gathers more slick that you seem to be making an abundance of but this time he gives his cock a few strokes, giving it a nice, wet coating. “So perfect for me.” He whispers out more to himself than you before he shuffles closer, holding his cock in his hand, rubbing it up and down your slit before eagerly pushing in.

The sheer tight heat of you has him gasping, you’d almost think he was in pain if it wasn’t for the blissed out look on his face.

When he sinks all the way in, he takes in your pretty face, your softly parted lips, gently flushed face and a look in your eyes that he’s sure he’ll never forget. You look at him with such love and adoration it’s impossible for him to stop the, “I love you,” that comes out of him before he kisses you.

“I love you too.” You say with a bright smile when he lets you breathe.

He thinks at this moment, there’s no way this could be anything less than perfect.

Getting lost in the sensation he picks up the pace. He fucks into your faster and harder with each stroke and it’s not bad but it’s too too much from the get go. Homelander doesn’t see this. In his head he wants to make you cum before he himself finishes which with his track record might not be a very long time.

“Hey hey hey, slow down. You don’t need to go all hard and fast so quickly okay?” You say with a breathless little laugh, looking a bit rattled from the way he’s been fucking you into the mattress.

Fuck. He fucked up again. He’s disappointing you. That thought makes his heart hurt and jaw clench. But Homelander doesn’t let it show as he just nods at you, kissing his tension away, trying to get his head back into enjoying himself as much as he should.

But the universe isn’t kind to him and when he eases himself back into you, pressing his body against your sweat-covered one, the glide of skin on skin well… It makes a sound that could only be described as a fart!

You burst into giggles at the comical sound and you seem to think that’s it but Homelander is mortified. His eyes widen and he gasps, pushing himself off your sweat-slick skin. “That wasn’t—I didn’t—”

When he tries to explain that it wasn’t him it just makes you laugh harder.

He doesn’t get it—you’re laughing! It’s so incredibly embarrassing and it’s ruining the vision he had for the night. Tonight was about him finally opening up to you, letting you feel just how strongly he feels about you and it’s been a disaster from the start.

He feels himself softening inside you so he pulls out before you notice and he grumpily pulls away from you, turning to sit at the edge of the bed to sulk.

Your giggles died out as soon as you noticed him pull away. “Baby? Don’t be upset. I’m not laughing at you.” You sit up, reaching over to him, moving closer.

“It’s fucking embarrassing! Tonight was meant to be—well not like this!” He’s upset and he’s trying to take it out on you as if pretending that it’s your fault is gonna soothe his hurt ego.

“It’s okay. It’s normal, it happens. It’s literally just skin on skin. Bodies make funny sounds!” You try to soothe him by rubbing his arms and shoulder, occasionally pressing a kiss to his head or side of his neck.

“You shouldn’t be laughing at it like this whole thing doesn’t matter.” He said with a bite in his tone, almost accusing you of not sharing his feelings.

“I’m laughing because this does matter to me. I’m comfortable around you. You make me feel at ease and let my guard down. I’m laughing precisely because I love you.”

He doesn’t respond and you continue soothing his hurt feelings.

“It’s beautiful, the way you’ve prepared this place. But do you wanna hear a secret?” You move closer to him and turn his head with your finger. “It’d be just as romantic without all of it. Even if the first time we had sex was in a broom closet. Or whatever. The point is—it’s you. That makes it all so special.”

He sighs with palpable relief and he nuzzles his head into the hand you placed on his cheek. He could just about devour you for being so amazing.

“I just wanted it to be perfect for you.” He admits his insecurity, giving you the ammunition to rip his heart in two if you wanted to. He knows you hear the ‘I want to be perfect for you,’ he’s really trying to convey.

“It is perfect. Tonight, the whole thing. Everything that’s happened. It’s been perfect. I’ve been loving every second of it.” You kiss him on the lips and he melts. He turns so he can embrace you with the kiss, feeling the tension finally slip away. With no expectations, he can enjoy you the way he should have from the start.

“Come on, lie down. Stop thinking.” It’s your turn to press him into the mattress as he lies on his back staring up at you with pure adoration.

Just like that, after seeing you on top of him all pretty and loving his cock is back at full hardness. You finally wrap your hand around it, giving it a few strokes before you lower yourself down on him.

“We’re getting to know our bodies. You learn what I like, I learn what you like. None of this thinking of what it should be like. Okay?” He nods at you although he’s very preoccupied with taking in the incredible feeling of you wrapped hotly around him, sending his mind into a frenzy.

You bounce on him, showing him exactly how you like it, what angle and what pace and in the meanwhile you coo sweet, soothing words. Clearly seeing just how much work his hurt ego will need to get back to normal.

And somehow, in the end, it’s so much more perfect than he could ever imagine it to be.

Taglist (you can add yourself to be notified anytime I publish a new Homelander story): @infinetlyforgotten

#spat this out in like 2hs #this didn't actually turn out the way I originally imagined when I posted about wanting to write awkward sex #but I kinda love the way it turned out!#homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction #asks!#fic request

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novaursa · 5 months ago

Text

Flame Kissed

- Summary: As you and Aegon never had a problem expressing your desires openly, neither did your dragons. And as both of you just tormented the inhabitants of the Red Keep, your dragons kept the whole capital awake for weeks.

- Paring: reader (twin!wife)/Aegon II

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, has same violet eyes as Aegon, and is bonded with dragon called Starfyre. For full chronological order of these works visit my blog. The list is pinned on the top. Or, you can read it as a one-shot.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 1 773

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The evening light filtering through the tall windows of the Red Keep. Your shared laughter filled the room as you playfully pushed him onto the bed. His platinum blond hair, tousled and wild, framed his handsome face, and his eyes, the same striking violet as yours, glowed with mischief and desire.

"Y/N, you can't just pounce on me like that," Aegon teased, though he made no effort to push you away.

"You love it when I do," you retorted with a smirk, leaning in to press a soft kiss on his lips.

He groaned appreciatively, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Gods, I do. What would I do without you?"

"Be bored out of your mind," you quipped, your fingers tracing the familiar lines of his face.

Aegon’s touch was fire against your skin, his lips tracing a path down your neck now, setting your nerves alight. The world beyond your chambers ceased to exist, lost in the fervor of young love and unrestrained desire.

"Y/N," Aegon whispered, his breath hot against your ear, "do you think they'll hear us again?"

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the distant mating roars from the Dragonpit. "Only if we’re louder than Starfyre and Sunfyre."

His eyes sparkled with determination, and he pulled you closer, his hands roaming with a possessive hunger. “A challenge, then?”

Before you could respond, his lips claimed yours with a fervor that left you breathless. Your bodies entwined, you gave yourselves over to the heat of the moment, each touch and kiss a testament to the connection you shared.

The two of you lost yourselves in each other, your movements becoming more urgent, driven by the undeniable bond. The heat between you was mirrored by the dragon fire coursing through your veins, the primal connection of your dragons, Starfyre and Sunfyre, heightening your senses.

Just as your passion reached its peak, the door to your chambers burst open. You barely had time to pull a sheet around yourself before Tyland Lannister stood gaping at the doorway, his face a picture of shock and horror.

"My apologies, Your Grace, I—" Tyland stammered, his cheeks flaming as red as his house's banner. He quickly averted his eyes, but not before muttering, "The dragon cries, the city can't find any sleep for days now... Queen Alicent wanted me to inform you..."

Aegon, always the quicker thinker, burst into laughter, his voice rich and full of amusement. "Tyland, you have the worst timing imaginable."

"Clearly," Tyland managed, his voice strained and his eyes widened further, if that was even possible, and he turned on his heel, muttering under his breath about the improprieties of royalty. “I’ll… I’ll leave you to it, then,” he stammered, practically tripping over his own feet as he fled.

As soon as the door closed behind him, you and Aegon erupted into fits of laughter, the awkwardness of the moment melting away. “Well, that’s one way to scare a Lannister,” Aegon says as he pulls you back to him, his hands sliding beneath the sheet to find your skin once more.

"Where were we?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Right about here," you replied, your own hands eager to resume their exploration of his body.

Tyland Lannister hurried through the corridors of the Red Keep, his face still flushed from the scene he had stumbled upon. He took deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. The sound of the dragons' mating cries echoed in the distance, a constant reminder of the intense bond shared by Starfyre and Sunfyre, and by extension, their riders.

Reaching the king’s chambers, Tyland paused to compose himself before entering. Inside, King Viserys lay on his bed, looking pale and frail, with Alicent and Grand Maester Orwyle attending to him. The room was heavy with the scent of medicinal herbs and the tension of unspoken worries.

"Your Grace," Tyland said, bowing deeply. "I bring news."

Alicent turned her sharp gaze on him, her brow furrowing. "What is it, Tyland? And why do you look so flustered?"

Tyland cleared his throat, struggling to find the right words. "I went to fetch Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N, but... they are currently indisposed."

Viserys coughed weakly, his voice barely a whisper. "Indisposed? Explain yourself, Tyland."

Tyland shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Alicent, whose eyes had narrowed even further. "I found them... together, Your Grace. In a rather... intimate situation."

Alicent's lips pressed into a thin line, her annoyance palpable. "This is hardly the time for such distractions. The entire capital is on edge with those dragons of theirs. It’s been a week of incessant noise, and now this?"

Viserys managed a weak smile, his eyes glazing with a hint of amusement. "Young love," he murmured. "At least they are well-matched."

"Well-matched or not," Alicent snapped, "they have responsibilities. We cannot afford for them to be so... preoccupied, especially now."

Grand Maester Orwyle stepped forward, his expression grave. "The king's health is of paramount concern. Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N must be made aware of the urgency of the situation."

Tyland nodded, still feeling the lingering embarrassment of his earlier encounter. "I will speak with them again, Your Grace."

"No need," Viserys said softly. "Let them be, for now. They will come when they are ready."

Alicent huffed, clearly dissatisfied. "Very well, but they should be reminded of their duties."

As Tyland bowed and exited the chamber, the sound of the dragons outside seemed to grow louder, their cries a reminder of the powerful connection that mirrored the one shared by Aegon and Y/N. The whole of King’s Landing was indeed on edge, the unrest within the castle walls reflecting the unease of the city below.

Back in their chambers, you and Aegon lay entwined, the earlier intrusion by Tyland a distant memory as you lost yourselves in each other once more. Aegon’s fingers traced idle patterns on your skin, his breath warm against your neck.

"Do you think Tyland will ever recover from his shock?" Aegon asked with a chuckle.

You laughed softly, your fingers running through his hair. "He might need some time. But we should probably make an appearance soon."

Aegon sighed, his hold on you tightening. "I know. But for now, let’s just stay like this a little longer. The world can wait."

You nodded, closing your eyes and savoring the warmth of his embrace. For a few precious moments, the worries of the world faded away, leaving only the love and passion that bound you and Aegon together.

A week later, the dragons' cries had finally ceased, bringing a blessed silence to the Red Keep. The sunroom, bathed in morning light, was a tranquil haven where you and Aegon enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. You sat comfortably in his lap, sharing food and laughter, the ease of your affection evident to anyone who might see.

Aegon's fingers lazily traced lines on your thigh as he fed you a piece of fruit, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I think I could get used to this," he murmured, his voice a low purr.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I’m sure you could. But we both know we have duties to attend to eventually."

Just then, Tyland Lannister appeared behind the servants, his expression a mix of determination and apprehension. Aegon’s gaze flicked up, and he grinned, his amusement clear. "Well, if it isn’t our dear friend Tyland. Come to join us for breakfast?"

Tyland cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. "Your Highnesses, I, uh, need to speak with you both."

"Do you now?" Aegon replied, his tone light. "Well, don't just stand there. Have some breakfast first. We wouldn’t want you fainting from hunger, would we, Y/N?"

You smiled, playing along. "Of course not. Please, sit, Tyland."

Tyland hesitated but ultimately sat across from you, trying to maintain his composure. "Thank you, Your Grace. But I’m here on a matter of importance."

Aegon raised an eyebrow, his hand never leaving your thigh. "Importance, you say? Do tell."

Tyland struggled to find his words, clearly flustered by your and Aegon’s casual intimacy. "The Queen has requested that I remind you both of your responsibilities. The King’s health is fragile, and your presence is required more frequently at court."

Aegon leaned back, his expression one of mock seriousness. "Responsibilities, hm? And here I thought my only duty was to ensure my dear wife’s happiness."

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, leaning into Aegon. "It seems we’ve been neglecting our duties, my love."

Tyland’s face grew redder by the moment, his discomfort evident. "Your Highnesses, this is no laughing matter. The Queen is quite insistent that you both... focus."

Aegon’s eyes twinkled with defiance as he picked up another piece of fruit, offering it to you. "Did you hear that, Y/N? We need to focus. Perhaps Tyland has a point. Maybe we should focus on finishing our breakfast first."

You took the fruit from Aegon’s fingers, your gaze never leaving his. "I think that’s an excellent idea."

Tyland groaned inwardly, running a hand through his hair. "Please, Your Highnesses, I beg of you. The King’s condition is worsening, and the Queen is at her wit’s end."

Aegon’s demeanor softened slightly, though his playful spirit remained. "Alright, Tyland. We understand. We’ll make more of an effort to be present. But you must admit, we’ve earned a bit of time to ourselves, haven’t we?"

Tyland sighed, seeing a glimmer of hope. "Yes, Your Highness. But please, remember your duties. The realm depends on it."

Aegon nodded, his tone becoming more serious. "We will, Tyland. You have our word."

Relieved, Tyland stood to leave. "Thank you, Your Highnesses. I will inform the Queen."

Aegon’s playful mood returned, and he leaned in to whisper something in your ear that made you giggle. Tyland cleared his throat again, looking as if he might bolt from the room at any moment.

“Is there anything else, Tyland?” Aegon asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence.

Tyland shook his head quickly. “No, Your Grace. That will be all.”

As Tyland hurried out of the room, Aegon’s laughter filled the space. “Poor Tyland. I think we may have traumatized him.”

You smiled, turning to kiss Aegon softly. “We should probably behave, at least a little.”

Aegon sighed dramatically. “If we must. But only for you, my love.”

The two of you continued your breakfast, the weight of your responsibilities momentarily lightened by the shared laughter and love that bound you together. The sunroom seemed brighter, the food tasted sweeter, and for a little while longer, the world outside could wait.

#house of the dragon #game of thrones #viserys targaryen #alicent hightower #tayland lannister #dragons #sunfyre #aegon x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii targaryen #hotd aegon

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demonvibez · 1 year ago

Note

Hello, I came here to ask you a request: Mc is wearing a pajama (nightgown, little shorts, whatever you want) that shows a little bit too much. So one day, Mc comes down to the kitchen in the middle of the night, taking advantage about the brothers sleeping in their rooms so no one would see her like this, and suddenly, she bump into one of the brothers. How would they react?

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, and sorry for the delay! I started working on it, got writer's blocked, solved the block, then got...inspired, lol. This ended up being like 8 lil narrative one shots. Anyways - This is only part one of two; hope you like! ♡

Characters: [Lucifer / Mammon / Leviathan / Satan] x F! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k+

Rating: Teen [Suggestive Themes]

Tags: suggestive/sexual themes, making out, light petting/groping, reader = she/her pronouns, each demon has a lil backstory

[Part One of Two - Read Part Two Here]

It was late at night in the House of Lamentation, and you had just finished preparing yourself for bed. You had finished your homework for the day, as well as your nighttime routine, and it was time for you to settle down. Just as you sit down on the edge of your bed, you start thinking about how it would be nice to have a quick little snack before you turn in to sleep for the night. Picking up your DDD from the nightstand, you check the time to see just how late it was. You decide that it was probably late enough for everyone to be asleep, and it was safe to venture out into the house alone with what you are wearing - a skimpy spaghetti strap tank top and tiny shorts that leave little to the imagination. You push yourself up off the bed and cross the room, making your way towards the door. Leaving your bedroom door open, you make your way towards the kitchen next door . . .

For the Avatar of Pride, staying up late and overworking himself was a normal part of his daily routine. Usually after dinner, he hides himself away in his study so that he can start working his way through the mountains of paperwork sent to him from his superiors. Usually every night, he has the same routine - he finishes his RAD related paperwork, takes a break to patrol the House, stops by the kitchen for a cup of Hell Coffee and then back up to his study to deal with the paperwork associated with his political duties.

Lucifer starts making his way down the hall for his nightly rounds through the House, as he normally does at this hour. He usually does this in order to make sure his brothers’ mischief was kept at a minimum, but it’s in order to keep you safe as well. He couldn't help but to notice that the chaos in their House had increased quite a bit since you had arrived - some of it from his brothers dragging you into their antics, some of it chaos created all on your own, and some of it external chaos that seeks to consume your beautifully shiny soul. When you first arrived here, you used to be a major source of his headaches. He used to struggle with how to punish you, seeing as you were the fragile little human sent here for Lord Diavolo's exchange mission. But now, the more Lucifer thinks about you, he cannot deny to himself the fondness that has grown for you within his heart. A smile twitches at his lips for a brief moment before he refocuses himself on his task.

Just as he is making his way down the stairs to check the first floor, he hears a noise coming from the kitchen area, a faint glow emitting from its frame and spilling into the hallway. He lets out an exasperated sigh to himself, believing it to be Beelzebub on one of his frivolous late night snack missions. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he strides towards the kitchen door, scripting the lecture he wants to give in his mind as he walks. How many times must he punish the Sixth Born?

When he reaches the doorway, he halts at the unexpected sight before him, and he can’t help but to stand back and observe. He sees you in the kitchen, illuminated by the light of the refrigerator, looking through what’s left of its contents for a snack. You look so innocent while doing so, completely unaware of your surroundings. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this - hell, he wasn’t even used to seeing you dressed like this. Usually dressed in your RAD uniform, the attire you were currently wearing is much more revealing than what he is used to seeing you in. The way the thin cotton fabric clings to your curves, he couldn't stop his eyes from roaming your entire body. You grab something from the fridge, closing it before making your way over to the kitchen island with the leftover Acidic Hell Fries you found. Sitting down with your back turned to the door, you open up the tray and lean in to take a bite, all the while Lucifer can’t help but notice the way your shirt rides up the arch of your back, the way the waistband of your shorts sit right at your hip, the way your skin just looks so soft. He wasn’t sure how a human could stir up such emotions in him, but he was in fact curious to see where it would take him.

In a rare moment of impulsivity, Lucifer swiftly makes his way towards you. Before you even have time to register the Avatar of Pride's presence, he sets both of his hands on the table on each side of you, effectively trapping you between him and the counter. He leans down closer to your ear, the scent of his cologne filling your senses, as he whispers your name into your ear with a very seductive tone. "What do you think you're doing here," he asks, his tone husky as you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning against your skin. Your pulse accelerates as he presses his lips to your earlobe, his gloved hands now slowly finding their way around your waist as Lucifer trails light kisses down the soft flesh of your neck. You would usually have some sort of snarky comeback for Lucifer, stating how it was obvious why you were in the kitchen shoveling fries into your face at half past midnight. But in this moment you couldn't muster up a retort, your brain beginning to fog up with the haze of pleasure that Lucifer's touch can bring. As he continued to tease your neck, occasionally nipping at it with his fangs, his hands began to drift lower on your body, lightly teasing at your waistband. One of his hands pulls your chin up to him, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips collide with yours in a way that sets your soul ablaze with passion.

He slowly pulls away from the kiss, your eyes slowly opening to see his crimson orbs gazing back at you with lust, love and admiration. He slightly loosens his hold on you, before turning you around on the barstool you sat upon to face him. He brushes the hair out of your eyes, tucking it back behind your ear before leaning down to press one more kiss on your lips. When he pulled away this time, you chased his lips with his own, filling him with a sense of pride at the idea that you're craving more of him - much like he craves more of you. He lets out a small chuckle before suddenly sweeping you up in his arms, your legs dangling over one side while your arms instinctively wrap around his neck for safety. "We're heading straight to my room," he said along with your name in a confident tone, "and I hope you have plenty of energy, because we won't be getting much sleep tonight." He carried you out of the kitchen and up the stairs, taking no time getting you to his room and into his silk sheets.

Mammon had just recently arrived home about an hour ago from one of his many side hustles he did to help earn some extra Grimm and pay back a few of his debts. The witches have been hassling him even more than normal recently, threatening a variety of curses if he doesn't comply with their demands, so he's had to take up multiple side hustles in order to make enough money. He could have sworn he paid them off a while ago - math is one of Mammon's strong suits and he always keeps his debt ledger up to date. He's pretty damn sure the witches are just jealous of you, and take it out on him one of the few ways they know will work. They would never mess with you directly - and risk earning the wrath of all seven Avatars of Sin? And perhaps even the Future King of the Devildom himself? Hell nah. They'll just keep toying with Mammon the way they know best.

Normally, Mammon would be pretty exhausted after a grueling shift of serving tables at Hell’s Kitchen, but tonight for some reason, he was feeling restless and couldn’t seem to settle down. He had completed his nightly routine and settled into bed, but he found himself feeling restless, scrolling Devilgram instead and finding himself growing bored rather quickly. After tossing and turning in his bed for what felt to him like an eternity, he let out an annoyed groan and pushed himself out of bed. If he couldn’t lull himself to sleep, he might as well go find his favorite human. He crossed the room to pick up his designer underwear and sweatpants off the couch, slipping them both on before making his way to the door. Once his door is closed, he starts briskly but silently making his way across the hall and down the stairs, doing his best to avoid running into any of his brothers - namely, Lucifer.

Making a beeline straight for your room, Mammon notices the door is open and just walks inside as if he owns the place. “Oi, human! I’m bored, why don't ya-” he says, before looking around to see that the room is actually empty. “Where the hell even are ya,” he mumbles to himself with an exasperated huff, turning about-face and exiting your room. As he steps out into the hallway, he finally notices the kitchen light is on. He starts stomping his way over to the kitchen, mumbling something about how much work it is to watch after one stupid little human, when he crosses the threshold of the door and almost bumps into you as he is turning the corner. "Aye, what gives," he says in an almost shouting tone, "ya gotta watch it, human! Ya gotta be more careful! Ya ain't always gonna have the Great Mammon to..." he trailed off as he finally looks down at you, taking in fully just how you look and what you are wearing. His eyes widen and his jaw drops, standing there completely frozen in shock as his eyes scan you up and down repetitively.

Despite the many times the two of you have shared a bed, he has never seen you wear something so small and form fitting as pajamas before. Usually when he was over, you'd just wear an oversized tee shirt and some baggy sweatpants, which was usually cute and endearing in its own way. But tonight, since you assumed you would be spending the night alone, you wore something you thought no one would see you in. And now here you are in the kitchen, the Avatar of Greed stood in front of you, a blushing and stammering mess. The more of his golden eyes took in of you, the more he could feel the greed rise up within him. Every little inch of skin, every little curve of your body has Mammon craving more and more, his avarice knowing no bounds when it comes to you. Typically, in moments like these, the tsundere side of Mammon's brain would kick in, and a flurry of denials would leave his lips before you could even playfully accuse him of anything. Seeing you like this has Mammon forgetting all about those silly habits, his mind focused on wanting only one thing - you.

In this moment, Mammon can't help but succumb to his greed. His hands reach out to pull you into his bare chest, his demon form now on full display and eyes glowing as gold as Grimm. His arms tighten around you in a possessive hold as he buries his face in your hair, your scent as intoxicating to him as the most expensive Demonus on record. You feel his hands roam your body, feeling both his soft skin and his rings' hard metal gliding up and down your back. You melt into his touch, your arms instinctively wrapping around his torso. "I've been lookin' for ya," he mumbles into your hair. Before you can even fathom a response, Mammon's hands find their way under your ass, hoisting you up and setting you on the counter. He leans in and presses his lips to yours with a sense urgency you hadn't seen from the Avatar of Greed previously, his yearning and need for you growing with each kiss. As his tongue brushes your lips, they part and allow him entrance, and the way your two tongues dance with each other sends Mammon over the edge, feeling that same greed start to build within you. Mammon's kisses became hungrier and sloppier the more he could feel his sin in the air, a hint of lust mixing with it as his hands squeeze your ass, your own hands roaming his beautifully brown torso. "Mine," he states simply, as he breaks the kiss momentarily.

He picks you up once again, your legs squeezing his waist as you fling your arms around his neck. He runs off with you to his room to have his way with you - and to hoard you to himself like the Devildom's finest treasure.

It wasn’t at all unusual for Leviathan to stay up all hours of the night. On this night in particular he was counting down the hours until the newest merch drop from his favorite idol group, Sucre Frenzy. He picks up his Bufo Egg Milk Tea to take a sip, only to hear the slurping sound of his cup being empty. Looking at the clock at the bottom right of his monitor, he mentally notes that he still has an hour and a half before the drop, which should be more than enough time to run downstairs and raid the fridge. He presses pause on the song he was listening to on Devilfy, pulling off his headset and making his way out of his bedroom door. He pulls his DDD out of the pocket of his hoodie, swiping it open and pressing on the 'Mononoke Land' app. Checking to see if there were currently any in-game spirits lurking in the House, Levi games as he presses forward towards the kitchen, his own IRL mission falling to the back of his mind as he continued to focus on the side quest on his phone. One hand in his pocket while the other clutches his device, his tail slides along the handrail of the staircase, making sure he doesn't stumble as he tunes out the rest of the world.

He really hopes you can make it to hang out for the drop tonight! When he invited you at dinner you seemed interested, but you told him you weren't sure if you'd be able to stay awake that late or not. He would really love it if you are able to - everything is more enjoyable for the Lord of Shadows when he has his Henry by his side! It makes him excited even thinking about it! Maybe he'll swing by your room on the way back from the kitchen and see if you're awake! Or...that maybe awkward? What if you're asleep and he wakes you up? What if he annoys you? Maybe he'll just send you a text instead. Either way, he loves you more than all of his anime combined, and it would be the highlight of his entire month to spend tonight's event with you.

Refocusing on his game, he turns the corner to cut back towards the kitchen. He doesn't even notice the kitchen light on ahead, nor does he hear the clattering and clanking coming from inside. All he can seem to focus on is Mononoke Land. As he walks past your room, he does a double take, expecting to see you in your bed. On second glance, he notices you missing from your room, and Leviathan couldn't help but be confused as he pauses in your doorway. It's almost one in the morning and you aren't in your room?! Where in the Devildom could you possibly be?! You're probably hanging out with one of his brothers, aren't you?! You're probably in one of their rooms, in one of their beds, doing Dia knows what while he's down here getting some stupid snacks for his stupid merch drop. 'Stupid stupid stupid I'm so stupid! Of COURSE she wouldn't want to waste time her time with a disgusting otaku like me! IT'S NOT FAIR IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR!!' A wave of envy washes over him so powerful that he fights everything within himself not to summon Lotan and flood the House. His fists clench his DDD, stressing it from the pressure as his knuckles turn white. His eyes blaze a bright orange as jealousy rages within him like a hurricane brewing over the sea.

Wanting nothing more than to barricade himself in his room and never come out, Leviathan angrily marched onward towards the kitchen, determined to get his snacks and get the hell back to his room so he can wallow in his feelings. Hastily making his way through the kitchen's threshold, he doesn't see you as he barrels straight into you, knocking you backwards. Before his mind can fully process what's going on, his tail grabs ahold of you, wrapping around your waist and preventing you from hitting the floor. His eyes finally connect with yours, and he realizes that it's you he has run into. A quick scan of the room tells him you had been in here alone, and suddenly he feels foolish for the jealous tantrum he was throwing in his mind.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry...I didn't see y-you th-" he stammers, now looking down at you to see exactly what you were dressed in. Is this what you normally wear to bed? Levi hadn't ever seen anything like it in real life. The way the fabric highlights all of your best features, putting just the right amount of emphasis on how perfect your curves were...he could have sworn you were drawn by his favorite manga artist. His eyes roamed your body up and down, his face heating up as rapidly as his heart rate is rising. 'OH FUCK, I'm staring aren't I?! She probably hates me, I'm so gross, such a worthless perv, I need to stop staring WHATTHEFUCKDOIDO?!?' he panics internally, his hands starting to tremble. He tilts his head down to focus on the floor, when he finally processes that his tail has been autonomously wrapped around your waist the entire time. "I'M SO SORRY," he half shouts at you, as he starts to unravel his tail.

Suddenly, Levi takes pause, as he hears you gently call out his name, one of your hands resting on his tail while the other reaches out to stroke his cheek. "Levi...whatever you're thinking right now...stop," you reassured him. Before he could hide his face from you, you leaned in to press your lips to his in a soft but loving kiss. At first, Levi just stands there frozen in shock but after a moment he kisses you back. He's still unsure of what to do with himself - he doesn't want to ruin this moment - but he doesn't want it to end either, so he stands with his hands awkwardly at his sides and pours every ounce of love of passion he can into the kiss. While he may not know what to do with his hands, his tail seemed to enjoy exploring your body, causing you to let out a tiny soft moan when it makes its way around the top of your thigh. You wrap your arms around his neck, continuing the kiss as you press your body against his.

After a few more moments, the two of you pull away from each other, both trying to catch your breaths. Before Leviathan could even muster a response, you grab his hand, the sweetest of smiles plastered across your face. "Come on, let's go to your room, Levia-chan. I can think of a few ways for us to kill time until your merch drop launches," you said as you start pulling him towards the door. Suddenly you weren't tired, and Levi didn't care about the snacks - with you, he may even end up forgetting about the merch drop.

Before you had even thought of grabbing a snack from the kitchen, Satan had already made his way down there and was rifling his way through the fridge looking for something suitable to feed his secret kitten friend out in the garden. Earlier in the night, Satan came outside to the garden in order to calm down and let his inner rage subside. He had wanted to spend the remainder of his evening with you curled up in his lap as he reads to you, a warm fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, as the two of you ignore the world for each other and a great plotline - there was no other way he'd rather spend his evening. But of course, his insufferable eldest brother had to stick his prideful nose in where it didn't belong and drag you away, just as he was asking you to join him after dinner. It was almost as if the Avatar of Pride has an extra sense for when Satan wanted alone time with you, always interfering and coming up with some smug excuse as to why you need to be stolen away right when Satan needs you. That pompous ass was always going out of his way to stoke the flames of Satan's wrath on purpose! 'One day he'll get back at that bastard, he'll put him right in his place!'

Satan continued pacing in circles in the garden, his demon form on full display as rage flows through him like an ice river through one of the lower pits of hell. He wasn't doing the best job at calming himself down at first, you not being there to help ground him, so it was taking a bit longer than normal. It was always so much easier to calm himself with you there - just a few simple words or a quick hug usually doing the trick. But for now he was alone, and he was drawing a blank on what he else should do. He completed one more pace around the garden before, before letting out an annoyed huff and sat himself down on the nearest bench. As he was about to pull out his DDD to text you to see where you were, he hears a rustling in the bushes. His emerald eyes scan the area, no signs of life immediately apparently, before he sees a pair of glowing eyes peer out at him from underneath one of the bushes. A small smile tugs at his lips as it dawns on him who the eyes belong to - one of his stray feline friends that likes to wander through every now and then. He pushes himself up off the bench and slowly crosses over towards the cat, holding out his hand as he tries to coax it out of the bush. The cat immediately starts to back into the bush, shaking it's head at Satan, causing him to take pause. He chuckles to himself as he comes to the realization of what she is asking for - the cat wants a treat.

Satan straightens himself up, making his way back into the House to find some cat friendly snacks in the kitchen. When he arrives there, he is alone, and makes a beeline straight for the fridge. It was usually wishful thinking for anyone in the House of Lamentation to try to hide food in the kitchen, but sometimes Satan was able to get away with it for the sake of his kitten buddies. Crouching down to open the bottom drawer, Satan reaches in to pull out some of the Devildom cat treats he had stashed back behind the drawer. Setting the pouch of treats on the counter, he opens up one of the cupboards and pours what is left of the treats onto a saucer, before tossing the empty wrapper in the trash and making his way towards the kitchen door. Little did he expect in all of this, you came walking through the door at the same time, neither of you really paying attention. Before either of you can stop yourselves, you quite literally run into each other, the saucer of meaty cat treats smooshing against Satan's chest and then dropping to the floor. Satan can feel his wrath rising inside him once again, drenching him like an ice cold shower, his aura turning dark as his demon form makes an appearance once again. He hasn't even looked up to see who caused the collision, assuming one of his brothers is to blame yet again, his jaw clenching as his mind races to formulate it's retaliation.

His glowing green eyes finally lift to see exactly who the guilty party is, only for his eyes to meet yours instead. You begin to stammer out a stream of apologies, but seeing you immediately calms the inner turmoil of his mind, the storm suddenly calm within him.

His gazes roams over you for a moment, Satan suddenly finding himself speechless as he takes in exactly how breathtaking you look in such casual attire. The way straps of your tank top accentuate your collar bones, giving way to how the fabric hugs your perfect chest...Satan suddenly couldn't remember what he was mad about in any point in the day. He couldn't even bother to care why he was in the kitchen in the first place. He gently takes one of your hands with both of his, raising it to his lips to press a kiss into your knuckles. A warm smile spreads across his face as his hands find your hips, pulling you closer into him. One of his hands moves to rub the small of your back as the other tilts your chin upwards to him. He holds your gaze for a moment, adoration apparent in his eyes, before he leans in to share a passionate kiss with you.

The moment his lips caress your own, your heartbeat goes through the roof, and you can't help but to lean into him and melt into his touch. His hand on your chin moves to hold the back of your neck, his tongue brushing your bottom lip, asking for more. Your hands find themselves on his chest as your lips back, your tongues clashing together in a desperate bid to feel more of each other. Your hands slide down his chest and abs, lightly tugging at his belt when you get to his waist. He chuckles into the kiss before nipping at your bottom lip with one of his fangs, grabbing your hips with both hands as he slows the pace of the kiss.

Eventually he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours. "You always know how to make me feel better, kitten," he said as you slide your hands up his front and lace them behind his neck. "What do you say we retreat to my room to continue this encounter?" he leans in to steal one more kiss from you lips before taking you by the hand and pulling you up to his room.

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify ·

· likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year ago

Text

(seven) days a week, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up

this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)

monday.

“What? Something on my face?”

You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.

“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.

You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.

A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”

You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.

There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.

He looked the part.

Didn’t act it, though.

Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!

This conversation was awkward.

Hah.

You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.

“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”

“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.

You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”

“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”

Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.

Jungkook, however, did.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?

Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.

You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.

He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.

You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.

What?

Damn flirt didn’t even notice.

tuesday.

“You didn’t like him?”

“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”

“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”

Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.

“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.

You highly doubted it.

Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.

“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”

You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”

“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”

“Wait, you did wha–”

The roar of the subway train below cut you off.

“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”

You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.

Asshole.

You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.

The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.

Fuck it.

Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.

Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.

An essay.

You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.

The fuck?

You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.

I apologize for being too intimidating.

You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.

The train roared out of the tunnel.

All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.

You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ

You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.

Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?

Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.

You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.

Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.

You twitched.

Bold, wasn’t he?

You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.

Shaking a little.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.

Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.

You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.

Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.

You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.

Being self-aware was a bitch.

You finally sent your answer.

I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?

You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.

But maybe it would have been better to look more you.

Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.

Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?

You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.

You veered off course and headed to stand in line.

I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.

You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.

You did not just think that.

You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.

I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)

You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.

Hmph.

What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.

Hmmmmph.

Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?

You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…

I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.

Him.

wednesday.

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.

Fuck!

Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!

But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.

Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.

Grr.

You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!

You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.

Big, round, dark brown eyes.

You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.

“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.

You gawked at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”

You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”

He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?

“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”

You stared at him.

“You’re stalking me?”

“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.

There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.

Not their business.

“I… I…”

“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.

“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”

He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.

Or lower.

“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”

And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?

Like he thought you were hot when angry.

He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.

“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.

A tiny head shake.

Ah, shit.

You deliberately did not think that was cute.

“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”

You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.

The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.

“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.

Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.

“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”

You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.

“I’m just listening to my heart.”

Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.

“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.

“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”

“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.

“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.

He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”

You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”

What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”

You let out a puff of air.

“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.

You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.

Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”

Your eyebrow twitched.

“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…

The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.

Silence.

Jungkook was staring into your eyes.

“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”

You felt your ears heat.

He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”

You grabbed his finger out of the air.

“Don’t be… weird.”

Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.

You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”

Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”

He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”

The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.

“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.

“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”

“I’m too much for you.”

Or was Jungkook too much for you?

“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”

What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.

You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.

“We’re not on the same page.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”

Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.

His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.

Sparks raced along the base of your head.

You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.

“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.

Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”

You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.

Inhale still in your throat.

“Then, do you not like me?”

Say something.

But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?

People were crazy.

Call it personal experience.

You sighed.

“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”

He was smiling.

Aw, shit.

“I must be favored to know you.”

You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.

“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.

You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”

The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”

“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,

“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”

You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”

His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.

“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.

The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.

“You think you could keep up?”

thursday.

Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.

Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.

Which was fine.

Unless you were actually trying to do your job.

Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.

Fuckity fuck.

It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.

The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?

Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.

Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.

You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.

You sulked.

You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.

And that was the problem.

If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.

You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.

It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.

It wasn’t any particular thing.

Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.

Metaphorically, duh.

So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.

You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.

Bad addiction, yeah.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You ignored it.

Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.

Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.

You don’t think I could have met you in another life?

You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.

I probably broke your heart.

Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.

Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.

You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.

What, did you need to see him every day or something?

Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.

Oh, fuck, you miss him.

You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.

Stupid.

Not him. Just you.

friday.

“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.

“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.

It was going really well.

Clearly.

You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.

Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.

Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"

"I'm not a virgin!"

"You are here!"

And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.

You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.

Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.

The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.

“How did you know?” he breathed out.

You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.

The fuck is going on?

“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.

This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.

“You really should stop. For your own good.”

You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.

You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.

“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”

You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.

Lightning shot across the sky.

Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.

“W… What?”

He shook his head, dripping water.

“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”

That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.

You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.

“Noona?”

You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.

You slapped his hand away.

Nothing was going to happen.

You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.

It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.

This was real life.

Not a story.

Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.

The storm raged on.

You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.

Tracing your lines.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.

saturday.

No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.

But you knew how that would go.

Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.

For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.

You had reasons.

How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?

You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.

Damn.

You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.

Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.

“You’re a great kisser, noona.”

His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.

You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.

“Shut up.”

Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.

“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”

One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.

“Don’t follow me.”

Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.

Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.

Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.

You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.

ㅎ.ㅎ

O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.

A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.

Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.

You twitched.

Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.

Oh.

Come on.

You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.

“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”

You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.

You gawked at him.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.

The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.

You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.

For now.

You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.

“I was nearby, so I figured…?”

You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.

He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.

Well.

You weren’t right in the head either.

You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.

Did you think you would like it?

No!

“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.

Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”

The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.

You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.

“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.

“Through a… friend.”

That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.

Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.

Pretty close, in all honesty.

“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”

You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.

“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”

You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.

“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”

Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.

Fuckity fuck.

You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.

You would never recover from this.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.

Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?

“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.

“You kinda sound mad.”

“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“A what?”

“Where did you park?”

His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.

“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”

It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.

“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.

At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.

You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.

Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?

Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.

The corner of your lips curved upwards.

You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.

“You. Are. Crazy.”

sunday.

You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.

No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.

You spun in your chair, the print job long done.

Thought back on the week.

Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.

Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.

Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.

Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.

Day five, cold rain and warm lips.

Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!

You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.

Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…

What if it actually matched well?

“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want it. But you need it.”

You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.

You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.

“Um…?”

You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.

“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”

“I don’t care.”

Kissed him, deeply.

That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.

It closed behind you.

You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.

Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.

This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.

Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.

“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”

“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.

“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.

You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.

It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.

“Woah…!”

Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.

“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”

Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.

“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.

Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.

You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.

Heh.

So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.

“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”

You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.

What?

You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.

You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.

“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”

You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.

You swallowed.

Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.

Gotta finish him off right.

You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.

“You…”

Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.

“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”

You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.

You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”

“B-But it’s true!”

You shook you head and waved a hand at him.

“Clothes. Off.”

Every hour, every minute, every second.

Full of sex.

Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.

He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.

Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.

“Harder?”

“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.

Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.

He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.

“Ah, Jungkook…”

You didn’t let it stop there though.

His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.

Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.

You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.

He got the hint.

Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.

Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.

It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.

Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.

It was like that all night.

From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.

“H-Hey!”

Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.

“Gah!”

Jungkook, too, fucked you right.

You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.

Oh.

Shit.

You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.

“Holy… fuck…”

Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.

You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.

Slowing.

Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.

Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.

Somehow at ease.

“What?”

You smiled down at him.

“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.

Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.

“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”

Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.

“Ah!”

Shoving his tongue in your pussy.

“YO!”

You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.

“There was just a condom in there!”

“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”

“Hell no!”

After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.

“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.

Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.

“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”

You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.

Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.

He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.

You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.

He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.

You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.

His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”

“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”

You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”

“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”

“What?”

You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.

“You look so beautiful laughing.”

Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.

“Shut up.”

He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.

“Will you stay?”

You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x noona #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 5 months ago

Text

Dispose Of Me

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Javier Peña needs you... and you're moving away in two weeks. Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe IRL), oral (f receiving), reader is picked up, Javi can't stop smoking, post S3 Laredo Peña, feelings. Words: 1,800

A/N: @ohheypedrito asked me to write Javier and this is what I came up with. This is my first time writing Javi, so I hope I did him justice. @undercoverpena posted this mood board a couple of weeks ago that matched the exact vibes of this piece, I even went in and added the last line because of it. Thank you to @pascalispretty for beta'ing.

Masterlist

___

His new life haunts him.

Fix a fence, wire the new security light, drive to town to pick up more feed, crack a well deserved beer open at dinner, fall asleep in the bed that’s too small.

Wake up and repeat.

Funny how the simple life feels like it’s killing him.

He lights a cigarette, the nicotine drowning his inner turmoil; a billow of smoke suspires out of his lungs, floating away into the night sky. He wishes he could follow it far away.

He needs you.

___

Three quick raps against the door shocks you out of your mindless channel surfing. Javi. You fight a smile before checking yourself in the mirror, lying to yourself that you didn’t buy all the new silky lingerie for him.

You lie to yourself a lot. You haven’t fallen for him, you don’t think about him all the time, other men have made you feel this special, you’re not going to miss him once you leave.

A quick shake of your head and a wiggle of your shoulders helps steel yourself before opening the door. Your breath hitches at the beauty… Javier Peña, the handsomest man with the biggest brown eyes and tightest Wrangler jeans you’ve ever seen lunges at you and wraps his arms around your barely covered figure.

“Usually you call, wha–” a searing kiss interrupts you, his plush mouth sets a hungry fire inside you.

Your body leaves the ground as Javi lifts you up into his hold, your legs instinctively enveloping his hips, hands taking hold around his thick neck as he walks to your bedroom. His lips don’t leave yours as he effortlessly navigates around your moving boxes.

“Need you baby,” he pants against your neck. “Need you so much.”

You’re thrown on the bed, mouth agape, lungs panting for air still recovering from his kiss. Javi swiftly undresses, his orange shirt and blue jeans fly across the room and land on your reading chair.

He flicks the light on, flooding the room with sweet tangerine hues. He stands at the foot of your bed, broad body looming, pouty lips parted underneath his downturned mustache. He’s the picture perfect example of a man in charge, standing immobile with his hands on his hips; the only movement is his wide brown eyes roaming your body. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobs in his toned neck. The tension radiating off of his body reaches out and grabs your heart, making it pitter patter even harder against your chest.

“I need you,” he whispers, his frame casting a shadow over your quivering body as he slowly climbs on the bed.

A kiss is placed against your temple; he inhales the citrus scent of your conditioner and sighs. His mouth moves down your face before parting your lips with his, his sharp nose pressing into your cheek when he deepens the kiss. He tastes of coffee and cigarettes. You melt into the bed under his weight, his tongue swirling around your mouth drinking down your gasps and mews. A soft groan rumbles out of his throat when you suck his tongue into your mouth.

He’s different tonight. His kisses feel more desperate, the weight of him presses harder, his eyes stare harder, his voice sounds gruffer.

He bunches the pink silk of your tank top up before covering your breast with his large hand, kneading it in his hold.

“Javi,” you moan, feeling his hardening cock press against your panties.

“Do you just sit around your apartment dressed like this every night baby?”

He licks his way down your neck, sucking and nuzzling his mouth against the curve of your collar bone.

“Most– ahh– nights,” you whimper. “Usually wear it in case you call or knock on my door.”

“Fuck,” he growls. His cock grows more rigid, pressing harder against your now aching core dripping wet and waiting for him.

His lips perch against the skin stretched across your chest, leaving a gentle kiss right where your heart beats.

“I can feel your heartbeat against my lips, hermosa.”

He cups your breasts between his hands, encompassing his head in between your flesh, his inhalation of your scent sends goosebumps through your skin… as if he’s trying to memorize every part of you before time runs out. He pulls back, tongue peeking out to wet his lips, dark eyes under pleading eyebrows staring into everything you have- body, mind, heart and soul.

”I need you,” he rasps.

You pet his hair, running your fingers through the soft waves.

“I know,” you whisper from your heart.

Javi.

He turns his head, laying a wet kiss against your nipple before sucking it into his mouth. A breath of a bite hits against your sensitive skin, your fingers tug at his hair. A throaty groan encourages you to pull harder.

He licks a stripe across taking your other nipple in his mouth– another bite, another hair tug, another throaty groan.

He rubs his hard cock against your core, his precum soaks against your drenched panties.

“You’re already so wet for me, aren’t you baby?”

An ache rolls through your entire body.

“Yes Javi.”

“Yes you are, baby. Want to taste you first.”

He settles between your thighs, jet black hair shining against your skin.

His tongue dips in your folds, swimming through the lush wetness you’ve spilled for him.

A lap up, a lap down, his tongue striding all along your sensitive skin.

You sink in the abyss of his touch.

“Mm close Javi,” you sob.

He moans a reassuring sound. His head undulating a reassuring nod taps his nose against your clit. Your hands claim his hair, pulling him even closer into you, your hips grinding against his face riding the wave of pleasure.

You fall off the horizon, diving into the depth of your orgasm. Javier Peña is not only a giver, but also a taker, taking everything your pussy will give him. You swell underneath him, your hands pulling his soft hair, your voice screaming his name. He drinks you down like he’s a shipwrecked man.

You float atop your coral sheets, Javi’s soft kisses to your thigh anchoring you from drifting farther.

___

“I-I need you Javi,” you muster.

His head pops up from between your legs, beautiful mouth shining with your sweetness. He licks his lips savoring the heady taste of you before he covers your body with his, crushing you, firm muscles pressing into your skin.

“You need me?” His cock ghosts against your entrance that’s begging for something to clench around.

”Yes Javi.”

”Okay hermosa, okay.”

All at once you’re filled with Javier Peña. His hips meet yours when he plunges himself fully into your heat.

Your lungs squeal as you wrap your legs around his lower back, giving him more access to all of you. He’s deliberate in his pace, slow thrusts adoring you with each push and pull. His lips take purchase of your mouth.

You immerse one another in the sway of each other’s bodies.

“Two weeks,” he grunts against your lips. “I don’t think I can live without your pussy, baby.”

Your fingers clutch his taut shoulders; you don’t know if he meant to let that information out.

“I’ll miss you so much,” you confess, getting lost in his divulgence.

“Shhh, don’t talk like that,” his lips mold the words on your skin. His thumb finds your clit and rubs a slow circle around it instantly replacing your sadness with a jolt of pleasure.

You gasp at the sensation.

“Need to make you feel good,” Javi pulls away, he stares into your eyes, “in your body and heart baby.”

“Jaaaaaviiii,” your exhale is replaced by his name.

He drives harder into you, your legs tighten around him, your hands grip his skin harder.

Your bed rattles against the wall, the metal headboard clangs against the plaster.

THUMP

“I”

THUMP

“need”

THUMP

“you.”

Your knuckles turn white against his skin as he pounds into your pussy. His eyes don’t leave yours, you’re drowning in the pools of his dark brown eyes as you orgasm, squeezing his cock and pulling him down with you, flooding him with your release.

He bites your name as he pulls out, your legs thudding against the bed as he draws his orgasm out. His focus doesn’t leave your face as thick white ropes fall on your stomach.

Your body rocks against the soft waves of the bed, lulled to a higher place of being from Javi’s care.

He flops down next to you panting for air with his forearm resting over his forehead.

You turn and cuddle into his side, resting your head on his broad chest.

“I need you,” Javi whispers so low you swear he’s only saying it to himself.

Your world shifts, he tells you everything in those three words he keeps repeating. Time is frozen as you both stay silent.

___

You reach for Javi in the darkness and find your bed empty. A deep timbred sigh behind you catches your attention. You roll over blinking your bleary eyes open, gulping at the sight ahead of you.

He stands naked by the window, a puff of smoke dissipating in the warm summer air breezing in from the open window. The sunrise paints his body in glowing umber.

“You know I don’t like it when you smoke in here Javi.” He stamps the cigarette out and walks over to the bed. His body gleams from the yellow street light buzzing outside your window. He sits on the edge of your bed and lifts your legs into his lap.

“You know I don’t like it when you move a thousand miles away and don’t ask me to follow you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me to do anything if I want to do it.”

“But, your dad?”

“He tells me I can leave at any time,” his hand strokes your leg, “I just haven’t had a reason to… until you.”

“Javi, don’t be ridiculous. You can’t just pick up and move away. What are you going to do there?”

“I already called the office, there’s a job waiting for me there. I just have to tell them I want it. Baby, I need you.”

___

“Good morning, I’m Javier Peña, the new head agent here. Shall we get started?”

Javi sticks his hand in his suit jacket pocket, discovering a piece of paper.

He smiles when he sees your note: Good luck on your first day! See you at home. Xxx

He reminds himself to buy you a bouquet of flowers before heading home.

#pedro pascal #javier peña #javier pena fic #javi pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javi pena fic #narcos fic #pedro pascal fanficiton #javier pena x you #narcos fanfiction

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jayparked · 5 months ago

Text

𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈𝓎 | 𝒽𝑒𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓊𝓃𝑔 | 𝓂

snippet: Then, looking into your eyes, he speaks firmly, “Before we begin, let’s establish some ground rules.”

pairing: lee heeseung x female reader

genre: smut, pwp

au: roommates, f2l

rating: explicit/18+, minors dni

word count: 4.3k

warnings: there’s a deep conversation about feelings, love confessions (YUCK)

sexual warnings: masturbation (female receiving), mutual pining, begging, rule making, dirty talk, non penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), body worship, light foot worship, the entire thing is based off getting reader off, heeseung doesn’t get off :( , heeseung is kinda bossy, praise kink, heeseung calls reader babygirl, overstimulation, .001% of aftercare, moaning, hair pulling, marking, punishment kink?, dom/sub dynamics, orgasm…guilt?...sorry

The frustration builds quicker than you wanted, the groans coming from your mouth slipping out louder each time you feel your body give up on itself. You’re too god damn horny, but your body is too tired to properly masturbate.

This is probably the fifth time now that you've attempted to get yourself off only to abandon ship seconds after. Your muscles ache and sleep calls to you. Despite this, every time you try to just sleep it off, the aching, painful throb from your clit keeps you awake.

It takes everything in you to keep yourself from throwing a tantrum like a toddler.

The clock now reads just after three in the morning; you let out one last frustrated breath. It comes out louder than you intended, the grunt rising in pitch before you can even stop yourself.

Moments later, your shirtless, sleep-drunk roommate opens your door, rubbing his eyes with one fist as he holds himself up with the other hand gripping the doorway.

“Are you okay or whatever? I keep hearing groaning and other weird sounds,” Heeseung sighs, slight annoyance laced in his tone.

Your eyes are wide with embarrassment as Heeseung’s sleepy eyes jolt awake as he finally sees you.

You’re laying on top of your comforter completely naked with one hand still draped across your womanhood.

Heeseung shifts his body against the door frame, the moonlight now highlighting down his face. The shadows of your air-guided drapes chase that light, new depths illuminating across his nose and cheekbones. You’re not sure why your brain is trying so hard to think of metaphors and similes, anything to compare Heeseung to, but none of them do him justice. It would be too easy to blame it on the lack of sleep. Then again, you’ve never truly let yourself look at him in this way before and it’s killing you that you can’t read the expression on his face.

In this moment, you realize you have neither fight nor flight instincts as you lay frozen in your bed, nothing willing you to cover yourself or hide from your roommates gaze.

Heeseung’s tongue pokes out of his mouth, moving slowly against his bottom lip as his eyes flick frantically from your body to the wall across the room. Raising a hand to cover his mouth, he clears his throat and brushes his thumb against his bottom lip to wipe away the remnants from his tongue.

Clearing his throat once more, his shoulder relaxes against the doorframe, his body now leaning in a very casual nonchalant way, his eyes continue to debate where to look. “Wha-whatcha doing there?” He immediately turns his body away from you after speaking, facing the wall as he aggressively rubs at the nape of his neck, his other hand back up to his mouth.

“Oh...you know...just trying to sleep.”

There’s a brief silence- minus the light flapping of your window curtains. That, and the mental beating you’re giving yourself for trying to joke about the situation at hand. There is no hiding it. You’ve been caught red-handed.

Literally.

“Y/n…” Heeseung warns, the moonlight shifting in a way that now illuminates the tense muscles of his back.

Your heart pounds loudly within your chest. You’ve seen Heeseung shirtless thousands of times. So why is this the first time you’re realizing just how sculpted his body actually is?

Shutting your eyes tightly, your brain moves at hyper-speed trying to figure out what to do or say next. A million scenarios flood in and all you want is to pick the option that lets you keep your roommate and not have to live with exploding embarrassment for the rest of your life.

You’re about to open your mouth and just say the first thing that comes out, no matter how brainless it may be. Perhaps brutal honesty will help you out in the end. But Heeseung beats you to the punch.

“Do you...do you need help?” His back is still turned to you so you can’t read his expression, but you can’t help but notice the way his back muscles tense.

It takes you a moment to register what he’s said. You’re finally able to move your hand away from your cunt and you slowly sit up and lay your back against your headboard, grabbing one of your pillows and hugging it tightly to your chest.

“I guess talking about it might help even though you and I have never really talked about this kind of thing before. Have you ever just been so horny and tired at the same time but you’re unable to do either of those things? I’ve been struggling for hours now trying to sleep but I can’t sleep because...you know, and then when I try to do that I’m just too tired to actually do it right and-”

“No, I mean-” Heeseung cuts himself off with a sigh, quickly followed by a slow intake of air, puffing his cheeks out as he releases it and turns towards you. He pauses, still averting his eyes before he steps towards your bed. Determination and bravery are written all over his face, despite the fact that he’s still trying to respectively not look at you.

Sitting at the foot of your bed with his body facing the door, Heeseung takes a moment before turning his head towards you, his dark eyes looking directly into yours.

“I can help you.”

A few more moments of silent eye contact passes before you finally understand what he’s trying to suggest.

“Oh...OH!” You can’t help but gasp with widened eyes as it finally clicks in your head exactly what he’s offering to you.

“Wouldn’t that,” you gulp, your face feeling painfully warm, “wouldn’t that make things weird? Between us?”

Heeseung’s jaw is tight, his muscles jutting forward as he breaks eye contact and looks back towards your bedroom door. “It doesn’t have to be weird,” he says softly, “...if you don’t want them to be. I mean, I can honestly say I haven’t ever...you know, not thought of you in this way before.” He lets out another long puff of air, knowing he’s being confusing with his words, hand grasping at the back of his neck as he tries to massage the tension away.

You feel embarrassed and flattered and excited all at once. Your roommate of three years, best friend of over ten years, has admitted to thinking of you in a sexual way.

Heeseung lets you think for a moment. But it only allows you more time to realize that you can’t feign innocence here either. There was that major crush you had on him in high school or the time you walked in on him in the shower. There’s definitely been a handful of times where he’s crept into your thoughts while you were with someone else or even times when you were alone.

There are a million things that could go wrong if you accept his offer.

Or, a million things that could go right.

“Okay,” you say bravely, moving the pillow away from your body, “please, help me.”

Turning his head slowly, Heeseung finally looks at you, really looks at you, his eyes roaming every inch of your body slowly. He inhales, his jaw clenching once more as his gaze falls upon your uncovered chest.

Then, looking into your eyes, he speaks firmly and slowly, “Before we begin, let’s establish some ground rules.”

Gulping slowly, you nod your head, trying not to think about the lack of friction going on below.

"Rule number one," Heeseung starts with a smirk, "you don’t get to touch me."

"What?-"

"Nuh, uh." He interrupts you, holding up his pointer finger as he shakes his head, his fluffy brown hair swooshing over his eyes. Without looking, he picks up your bare feet and pulls you towards him, placing your legs over his lap as you now lay flat on the bed. His hands start to roam over your calves and down to your toes. His fingers are just barely lingering over you to the point of sending chills throughout your entire body. The touch of his skin on yours alone is sending the signals in your body into overdrive. That mixed with the tiredness you're feeling, it's making it nearly impossible to think straight or stay focused on the words he’s saying.

"I've been thinking about a night like this for a long, long time. Respectfully, of course," he adds quickly, looking back at you and giving you a soft smile. "I never wanted to do anything to ruin what we have. But damn, I really can't deny it. I've thought about making you cum over and over and over again so many times it was like a movie constantly replaying in my mind." Heeseung continues to stroke your feet and legs sensually as he speaks. It takes everything in your power not to pounce on him.

Instead, you bite your bottom lip and close your eyes, resting your arms on your stomach, letting the deep grumble of Heeseung's voice soothe your body along with all the places he's trailing his fingers on.

“Anyways,” he says with a quirk of his eyebrow, “back to our rules.”

His domineering tone sends chills throughout your body again and you try your best to ignore the white noise ringing in your ears.

“Rule number two: you can’t cum unless I tell you you can.”

The urge to question him again is strong, but his stare makes you shut your mouth tightly.

He knows the question is hanging off the tip of your tongue, you know that he knows. Instead of throwing you a bone, he sits there smirking at you, sitting on his high horse while also looking like he knows the punchline to the joke you’ve been waiting to get.

Finally, he beckons you closer, his pointer finger slowly enticing you in. You sit up slowly, your legs still in his lap. As soon as you’re close enough to see the dark flecks in his eyes, he leans in himself until his lips are hovering just over your ear.

“And I can be a very patient man, baby girl. We can be here all night until you finally get it right and do what I say.”

Admittedly, your first instinct is to laugh, the sheer shock of his words not fully settling in. But then, after a moment, you can tell just how much his words affected your body; your legs feel shakier, the core of your womanhood pulsates quicker, and you start to feel the dripping of your arousal moving down your thighs.

It only makes sense that your childhood friend, the love of your life, would also turn out to be the kinkiest person you’ve ever met.

It only makes sense.

“Okay...yes sir.”

The smugness on Heeseung’s face only increases.

“Good girl.”

“Are there any other rules...?” It still feels odd talking to your best friend about this. But it’s all worth it when you notice the growing tent in Heeseung’s sweatpants

Heeseung gets off the bed and moves closer to you, his hands behind his back. He appears so nonchalant and unbothered, almost like he’s ignoring the fact that he’s sporting the hardest erection he’s ever had in his life.

It makes you nervous in the best of ways.

Removing one hand from behind his back, he places it on one of your knees, caressing your flesh gently before pushing it to the side, spreading your legs open wide to expose your dripping cunt. He nods his head with approval, biting his bottom lip hard as his eyes sweep slowly up and down over your entire naked body.

It feels like the room’s temperature went up another ten degrees.

Heeseung dips his hand lower, hovering over your cunt. Each time it looks like he’s about to touch you, your vagina pulses with anticipation, only for Heeseung to deceivingly pull away at the last second.

“Please, Heeseung…please touch me, I just want to cum, I can’t take this anymore. I’ll do anything!”

With a slight chuckle, Heeseung humors you, leaning his body down closer to yours and dips one of his fingers down, lightly petting the tops of your folds.

The small touch makes you shiver, your hips bucking up towards his hand. The amount of juices he accumulates on his fingers in a short amount of time exposes exactly how needy you feel.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” And with that said, Heeseung's fingers glide past your folds with a heavenly amount of pressure, soaking in your sweet juices. Your head falls back against your bed and you wish you could sink in deeper; into the bed, the room, into him. He's murmuring something in your ears, but your mind is too focused on what's happening to your body, there's not enough mental capacity in there to comprehend words at the moment. The urge to reach out to him and feel his skin against the palm of your hand spurs deep in your chest, but not strong enough to act upon. Instead, you let your eyes flutter shut, sighing blissfully as he continues to massage and soothe your bud.

Heeseung continues a slow, sensual pace, one that you could arguably fall asleep to. It feels like every stress cell in your body slowly floats away with every stroke of his fingers.

"Just like that? Hmm?" You hear him say.

"Hmm?" You manage out, your voice sounding weak and far away.

"I just didn't think you would react to me that quickly. Or intensely."

You open your eyes and look at him. Heeseung is propped up on one elbow, his hand cradling his jawline. His other hand continues to make brushstroke movements in between your folds. He looks at your vagina with wonder, and like he has something more to say.

But you're too tired and enjoying him too much to ask.

Moments later, Heeseung is picking up speed, beckoning your undoing.

You don't feel ready to give up the warmth you feel with his touch, not ready to reach the top and climb back down.

You can’t take it anymore. The pressure building is too intense and you need something sturdy and stable to hold onto.

Screw his rules.

Grasping onto Heeseung's shoulder, your fingernails dig into him as you bite down on your bottom lip, fighting desperately at the orgasm crashing down on you.

"There you go, baby. That's it. Come undone on my fingers." Heeseung's sweet demeanor is long gone as he watches you with sinful eyes.

A small moan leaves your lips as you let go; your legs shake vigorously underneath Heeseung's grasp and you feel the painful twist of a muscle spasm deep in your hamstrings.

Short gasps are all you can manage in response, your mind feeling more awake than before.

And in that brief pause between ministrations, your mind increases its speed tenfold, your thoughts now clearer than ever.

This is your best friend you're laying in front of. The same guy you used to collect bugs with when you were younger, the same guy you were embarrassed in front of when he found out you started wearing a training bra.

And you just came in front of him.

"I'm so sorry, Heeseung!" you cry out, sitting up quickly and burying your face in your hands as you fight back hot tears from falling down your cheeks. "We can forget this ever happened."

Heeseung is quiet behind you as you imagine yourself shrinking into a spec of nothing.

Then, tenderly, his hand is on top of yours, coaxing it away from your face. And you let him do it.

Heeseung holds your hands in his, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles before whispering, "Did I do something wrong?"

Immediately you want to scream no, but your words catch in your throat as you look at him. Heeseung’s bottom lip is jutting out slightly and he's avoiding your eyes as he continues to try and comfort you. And then you remember that this isn’t some random stranger. You know him. You know him more than anyone, hell, sometimes you know him more than you know yourself. And right now, this Heeseung in front of you is just as embarrassed and emotional as you are.

"No," you say bravely reaching out to press your palm to his cheek, turning his face towards yours, "I don't regret it at all. I'm sorry, I just-" you sigh and lean back, struggling to find the right words to say while fighting against your own embarrassment, "-I just never thought we would get to this point. And to hear you say all those things you were saying? I just don't understand. Why didn't you ever tell me? Why me to begin with?" That's when you realize where all of this insecurity of yours is coming from. Heeseung has been with gorgeous people in the past, gorgeous, successful people. And the thought of him liking you? It must feel like a step down for him.

But the way his face softens as he sighs, bringing your hand back up to his face, has you second guessing your initial judgment of him.

"It's always been you, Y/n. Ever since we first met. How could I ever for a second not want to be with you? You're my best friend, the person I go to for comfort. And because of that, I was always afraid to tell you about my feelings. Because just being in your life as your friend and your roommate, that was more than enough for me. And this doesn't have to go anywhere if you don't want it to be. But…truthfully, I want it to go somewhere. Hell, Y/n, I want to be with you. But if you don't want to be with me like that? I'll be okay."

His words swirl around your body, not quite processing into complacent thoughts. There are about a million different emotions coursing through your veins, and each one is battling to come to surface.

It feels selfish, the position he’s put you in. Because now, it’s all on you. Your choice will determine how your relationship with Heeseung changes forever. And, let’s be real, no matter what happens after this moment, things will never be the same. The weight of that realization is pushing you down into the mattress you sit on. You’ve avoided thinking about your best friend in this way for so long it’s hard to tell if what you’re feeling has always been there or just here temporarily, clouded by the high of a mind-blowing orgasm.

On the other hand, there’s excitement, joy, happiness, relief all bundled into one giant heart floating around you. Your best friend, the person you’ve been attached to for over a century now, is confessing his feelings for you.

It’s time to be honest with yourself.

You’ve been in love with him this whole time.

Heeseung waits patiently while you figure out exactly what to say, playing with your fingers and tracing unknown shapes across your hand in the meantime.

You’re too tired for words, too tired for thoughts, too tired for almost everything it seems.

Well, everything, except…

You lean forward slowly, placing your weight on your hands as you close the space between you and Heeseung and place a tender kiss on his lips.

Heeseung sighs and closes his eyes, putting your hand over his heart and completely melts into your touch.

How could you not do the same?

All of the tiredness, all of the frustrations from before Heeseung entered your bedroom, it was all worth it to get to this moment. And you’d go through it every night for the rest of your life if it meant you got to kiss him just like this.

The kiss deepens quickly, your mouths moving with an intensity you’ve never experienced before. Without thinking, you let your body take full control, not second-guessing any natural movement. So you let your hand find its way to the nape of Heeseung’s hair, delicately pulling at the ends until his neck is forced back and a moan ripples through his throat. It was so unexpected and out of character, but you like having this control.

It doesn’t last long, though. Heeseung quickly comes to his senses and knocks you onto your back, pushing you with one hand on your chest. He chuckles low and menacingly, his eyes staring deep into yours.

“What did I say about touching?” His voice is so low you swear you can feel it rumbling in your chest.

Heeseung doesn’t allow you enough time to answer. Before you can even open your mouth, his tongue is attached to your lips.

But not the lips on your face.

Your eyes immediately roll back as his tongue writes beautiful nothingness against your cunt and you desperately want to reach out and grip his hair again. Thinking there’s a possibility he wouldn’t notice, you reach and tangle your fingers in his locks. Almost immediately, your hand is batted away with a low warning growl from Heeseung as he continues to work his tongue against your sensitive bud. You groan in protest, but obey, somehow able to restrain yourself and settle for gripping the sheets instead.

The tongue movements start slow, but it seems you’re not the only impatient one here, despite what he may have said earlier. Heeseung picks up speed as he laps up your juices, his hand snaking up to insert a few digits inside you. His other hand is gripping one of your hips, his entire forearm pressing against your pelvic bone, holding you into place. His grip on you only seems to make your body want to shake more.

“You that close already, baby?” Heeseung lifts his head up for a moment, your juices glistening on his mouth, cheekbones and the tip of his nose. It seems like a sight you would only have in your dreams. It’s hard to believe this is happening in real life.

“Answer me,” he commands, eyes narrowing, but there’s a tinge of softness behind his words.

“I can’t help it.” You pant out, “Been building up all these years now. I could have come just by you touching my shoulder.”

Heeseung chuckles at this, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you.

“You can cum whenever you want, baby. I’m not going to stop you,” he says casually.

Almost...too casually.

But you don’t think twice, you’re too tired to think twice. Quiet moans slip past your lips and Heeseung takes that as his cue. His fingers move faster, scissoring inside your body as his nose brushes against your clit.

It’s almost too easy to come undone.

White hot heat spreads throughout your body as everything around you starts to shake. Heeseung is watching you with careful eyes as you orgasm the fastest you’ve ever orgasmed in your life.

Your breathing only gets heavier as you come back from your high. But then, a blissful pain makes your thigh muscles jolt, a new wave of uncontainable cries escape you.

“I said I wouldn’t stop you if you wanted to cum,” Heeseung devilishly proclaims, his fingers moving faster than ever inside you, “but that didn’t mean I was gonna stop.”

Your eyes shut tight as you pull at the sheets gripped tightly in your hands, too afraid to speak because of the moans you’re currently swallowing back. Small whimpers make it out as you desperately try to focus on anything other than the torture you’re going through.

“Aw, don’t be like that, baby,” Heeseung coos, focusing almost all of his attention on your clit now. “Let it all out. I want to hear that pretty voice of yours. Tell me how good I make you feel.”

There are no logical thoughts left in your brain. All you know is that you’re desperately exhausted and it’s taking too much of your energy to fight against the natural cries your body wants to release as this overstimulation continues.

So, you let go.

“Fuck!” you finally cry out, your chest rising and falling quicker than ever as the moans release deep from within you, “That feels so good! I’m gonna come again- I’m gonna- I’m gonna-”

A small scream is all you can manage as the pressure in your core finally releases. You thought your previous orgasm was intense? Nothing will ever be able to top this one.

“Damn that was fucking sexy.” Heeseung stands and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Your legs are still trembling and it feels like every muscle in your body is frozen in place. Warm liquid coats your inner thighs and drips down onto your sheets.

“Did I just…?” You ask with shock. Heeseung chuckles and nods his head, walking towards your door. He pauses with one hand on the doorframe, looking back at you with a proud smile.

“Hell yeah you did. Have you ever squirted before?”

“No, never,” you whisper, but Heeseung is already out of the room. Your eyes flutter shut, sleep threatening to finally take over.

Heeseung returns with a towel, throwing it so it lands right beside you.

“Goodnight, babygirl,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“Wait!” You call out just as he reaches the doorway. “What about you?” You point at his very obvious erection.

Heeseung waves you off casually, “We’ll have plenty more nights of fun in the future. But for now, sleep. Don’t worry about me.” He winks. “I can take care of myself just fine. Get some rest. Goodnight, Y/n.”

Before Heeseung even closes the door, your eyes are shut, sleep finally welcoming you into its arms.

a/n: thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed :] if you did please reblog and leave a comment!

#heeseung smut #lee heeseung #heeseung #enhypen #enhypen heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #enhypen fic #heeseung fic #heeseung oneshot #heeseung f2l #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #heeseung x female reader #heeseung pwp #heeseung roommate #heeseung x you #heeseung hard hours #heeseung smut hours

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itstheghostofmypast · 1 month ago

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I'm Okay! Gwenchana!

Non-Idol Husband Choi San x (F) Reader

Summary: If there is one thing a good husband knows, it is that intimacy is not bound to the gratification of the physical being, but also the mind and soul.

Genre: Hurt Comfort

Rating: PG- 17

Word Count: 2.1 K

Est. Read Time: 10 min

Warnings: eldest sibling/child trauma (if ykyk)

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

AN: A bit self-indulgent- a light-hearted (i guess) fic before the first chapter of the Ice on My teeth series <3

He watched you walk into your shared bedroom and fall onto the bed, walking in behind you with a heavy sigh, tugging on his tie to loosen it. Perhaps the family dinner did not go as planned, well, most of it. The evening started off well, as well as it could be, honestly the only time he'd say you were this nervous was when you were around your parents. The jitters he'd see trembling through your frame had him holding himself back from enveloping you in a warm embrace, trying to soothe your nervousness, but the physical touch was one of the things you'd avoid around your family.

Slipping the tie off his neck, he unbuttoned his shirt, eying your sprawled out on the bed through the mirror. It was all fine, the conversation was light-hearted, the bare minimum critical comments were targeted towards you, nothing you couldn't handle- until your sibling had arrived.

With a heavy sigh he turned to face you, only to notice your soft breathing, of course, you had fallen asleep. Removing his shirt he walked over to you, reaching over to gently brush the loose strands of hair on your face, his lips pressed into a thin line as he noticed the pink puffiness around your closed eyes, the memories of you crying your heart out in the car on the way back had his heart clench again.

“Love, wake up,” the soft whisper of your husband stirred you out of your dreamless slumber, slowly you opened your eyes and turned your head to glance up at the man who gave you a soft smile in return. Helping you sit up his nimble fingers began to unbutton your top, slipping it off your shoulders. The chill in the room had goosebumps scatter across your warm skin, pulling you into full consciousness, as you pouted at him, “You want to do it now?” you asked, wondering if you should tell him that you were in no mood for it tonight, not that he’d force you, but you did notice how restless he was during dinner, and in the car on the way back, so perhaps he was expecting something.

“Huh? Oh.” the man chuckled at your silly little antics, “Such a naughty wife I have.” he mumbled, staring up at you as he crouched down between your legs, looking up at you while he slipped off your socks, “I just thought a nice warm bath would help you sleep better.”

“Oh…” your face flushed at the statement, embarrassed at the mistake you had just made, wondering why you even thought of it in the first place. Though you couldn't ponder about it any longer, especially when you were scooped up into his arms, a yelp escaping your lips as you looped your arms around his neck, clinging onto him for warmth, in nothing but your undergarments, “Sannie!”

“Don't worry, I'll be careful!”

His declaration echoed in the washroom as he walked into the shower cabin, gently placing you on the shower bench before ridding himself of his garments and turning to face you with a stupid smug expression, earning an eye roll from you. Once your pesky garments were out of the way he turned the nob to the left, holding onto the shower head to check the warmth.

“I can do this myself you know?”

San ignored your statement, only to turn around and ‘accidentally’ spray your face with the warm water, earning a squeal, “Oh- I'm sorry, must've slipped.” With that he approached you, sitting behind you, holding the shower head closer to your head for it to soak your hair and body while you stared at your hands in your lap.

“I never said you couldn’t.”

It wasn’t as if he had something out of the ordinary, but perhaps the whole dinner had been weighing down on you enough to have you sniffle at the statement and you hoped that for once he wouldn’t react to you crying, instead would let you- and you were glad he did, going about his routine.

San noticed the way your shoulders quivered, his hand giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze before trailing lower as if he were trying to ease the tension in your back muscles, with the help of the warm water that cascaded down your form. Switching off the water he picked up the shampoo bottle he had conveniently placed beside him, flipping open the cap he poured a generous amount of purple liquid into his palm, picking up the rich berry scent, and making a mental note to use this next time too, it smelled better than his mint shampoo.

With gentle hands he began to lather the shampoo in your hair, applying gentle pressure on your scalp, noting how your crying had seized, only to be replaced by your shallow breathing, noticing how you were trying to calm yourself down, your silence bothering him.

“It’s getting colder, no?” he conversed, trying to distract you from all those thoughts, “You should wear more layers from now on, yeah?”

You only nodded in return, closing your eyes when he began to wash off the shampoo, wanting to ask him if you were to return the favor, as your hand blindly reached behind you for the bottle.

“Love?”

“Umm…yes?”

“For someone who said she’s not in the mood, your hand is-”

“oh-Oh, I thought that was the shampoo bottle!” you gasped pulling your hand back- honestly unsure to why you were so embarrassed, you were married to the man.

“No problem at all, sweets,” his tone was oozing with cockiness as he turned off the water once more, this time reaching for the liquid body wash, “I do understand one can confuse the two because of the similarity in sizes.” He laughed at the way you turned to glare at him only to gently turn you back, “Hold still would ya?”

With a huff you turned around facing the tiled wall, watching the condensation, as he began to gently massage your shoulders, lathering up your body with the soap, feeling him get a bit handsy, but nothing too out of control, at this point you knew he was doing it to distract you. You wondered if you hadn’t stepped on his foot under the table tonight, what would he have said? Would he have defended you? Well, indeed he would have, but what would he have said? He was usually very composed, very calm and careful with his words.

Perhaps he would have politely said something to defuse the situation, or perhaps he would have lost his temper- in either situation, one thing was sure, you were glad you signalled him to be quiet. For if there was one thing you knew, it was that at the end of the day, you were taught that the eldest is to be patient, all bearing and understanding, even when the younger one is wrong- and you had been meeting that bar of expectation for all your life, perhaps because that’s how you were trained to be or to be more exact, you just were not a fan of chaos and useless banter. Though a part of you did wish, that either parent would have tried to handle the situation better, rather than dragging you down because of the whole ‘we expected better from you’ and instead understood when you confronted your sibling about the comment,

“Why? Didn’t you say you didn’t want kids?”

The statement had caught you off guard, the whole conversation was pointless anyway, the topic of children was between your husband and you, and why was it weird if you had changed your views from what they were at the age of fifteen. So, like any sane person, you snapped back with, “Why do you think I owe you an explanation?”

Apparently, that was wrong, and had let loose a whirlwind of emotions within you, especially when your parents began to talk about how it is natural to want kids, but as a family, they do have the right to know how your views changed or rather- your sibling, the sibling you were supposed to parent once they were gone. This followed the whole 'how you were supposed to be the bigger person', even when you argued back saying your sibling never needed to bring up such an old conversation in front of your husband, embarrassing you in front of him- of course, you didn’t tell him this? Why would you? Your views had changed and one day you did plan on starting a family with your husband-

“You need to calm down.”

His warm chest pressed against your back, slowly pulling you back into a hug, arms wrapping around you frame as he placed his chin on your shoulder, tilting to place a tender kiss on your cheek, before pressing his wet cheek against yours, “Thanks for stopping me back then, I know my expressions were scary enough, if I had said something else…” his words trailed off as he squeezed you closer, mumbling against your cheek before pulling away, “I don’t think I can choose my words wisely at the sight of my wife in tears.”

With the weight of those words weighing down on you, you found yourself being wrapped in a fluffy towel and walked out of the washroom, being seated on the bed when he had scurried towards the cupboard, pulling out his hoodie and running back with it, “Arms up!” and as if wired to the command you raised your hands giggling when in one quick motion you felt the soft cotton, the familiar scent enveloping you in a warm hug.

“Where are you going?” you asked as you watched him saunter back into the washroom with the towel hanging low on his hips, only for him to swiftly turn around with a serious look in his eyes, “You were right, the mushrooms did do me dirty.”

You took a moment to process what he said before sighing in defeat, shaking your head at the duality of your husband, so serious one moment and completely aloof the next. Nonetheless, one thing was sure, you really depended on him, perhaps he really was the only being keeping you sane. Perhaps tomorrow you’d talk to him about starting a family, and, tomorrow you’d tell him why you didn’t want kids at the age of fifteen- though you may censor the part where you for a very long time thought that like male seahorses, men give birth, and at fifteen when you found out that was not the case, your plans of having eleven children to raise your own football team quickly washed away- yeah, it was best to censor that part, one clown is enough in a relationship, no need to create a circus.

By the time San was done with cleaning and showering he had come out to find you sleeping peacefully, snuggled up on his side, much to his pleasure. Lifting the blankets he slipped into bed, laying on your side of the bed, sighing at the scent of your shampoo wafting off your pillow, he should do this more often. He wanted to know more about the whole secret that was spilt today, you had never mentioned this to him before, in fact, you seemed ever ready to start a family with him, so he wondered if he was in any sense forcing you to do so- for if there was one thing that mattered to him most, it was your happiness, so yes, if you felt just the two of you completed your family he'd be fine with that- perhaps encourage you to get a cat at max.

A part of him wanted to ask you about the expectations your parents had when it came to your role as an older child and their occasional unfair treatment- though he knew you’d brush it off, too scared of rejection to bring it up at the moment, perhaps one day he’d take a stand for you, one that he’d carefully curate, with wise words and logical reasoning- or you’d end up blowing up and handling it yourself before he could, but that was a worry of another day.

Slowly pulling you closer, he held his breath when you changed positions, afraid that he had woken you up, only to sigh in relief when you snored in bliss, only to turn and bury your face in his chest, an arm draping around his waist. A smile stretched across his face, giddy like a teenage boy who had finally confessed to his crush, openly welcoming this intimacy, as he squeezed you against him, tangling his limbs with yours before closing his eyes to waltz with you on the sprung floor of the ballroom in your dreams.

Though when he had almost succumbed to sleep his eyes snapped open, jerking himself awake at the horrid thought he just had, glancing down at you, unsure if he should wake you up, for it was a grave mistake, one that broke the chain of process of showering-

“I forgot to condition her hair.”

Taglist: @edenesth @skteezcursed @mlysalt @the-kpop-simp @spooo00oky @bunnyluvr25

@s-h-y-a @ateezwonderland

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doufudanshi · 6 months ago

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朝暮 / Dawn ‘til Dusk

Translation of the MDZS Pinsin exclusive extra. Finished like 80% of this in one sitting almost 2 years ago and finally decided it's been gathering dust in my gdrive for long enough. Enjoy!

Feel free to let me know if you see any errors. Screenshots okay with credit. Do not repost.

Rating: E, nsfw 🔞

—————

Haishi had passed a while ago, yet he still hadn’t returned.

The paper lantern on the table hadn’t gone out yet, and Lan Wangji stared at its hazy light, unblinking.

After a while, he rose and walked to the entrance of the Room of Tranquility, opening the wooden door.

He stood there for a bit. He seemed just about to step over the threshold when a strange thump came from behind him.

Lan Wangji spun around, only catching sight of the window, which had opened at some point. Its frame swayed slightly in the night breeze. A large, odd lump rose from beneath the thin blanket on the bed, as if something had broken in, rolled inside, and was now curled up underneath, quivering with a faint rustle.

He stayed silent for a moment, then gently closed the door and went back into the room. Blowing out the candle along the way, Lan Wangji shut the window and got into bed.

He laid down beside that huge lump, silently pulled another blanket over himself, and closed his eyes.

Not long after, something big and ice-cold burrowed under his covers.

It squirmed and wriggled its way on top of him, plastered itself onto his chest, then cheerfully chirped, “Lan Zhan! I’m back~! Quick, give me a warm welcome.”

Lan Wangji wrapped his arms around him. “Why are you so cold?”

“I was in the wind all day. Let me warm up,” Wei Wuxian said.

No wonder he was covered in bits of grass and dirt. He must have taken the juniors of the Hidden Cloud Depths to terrorize the wild fauna and wicked beasts up in the mountains again.

Wei Wuxian had rolled into his bed and burrowed under his covers while covered in dirt, yet Lan Wangji, neat and tidy by nature, didn’t flinch in the slightest. In fact, he only silently squeezed him tighter, holding him even closer.

After warming Wei Wuxian up with his body heat for a while, Lan Wangji said, “Take your shoes off, at least.”

“Okay~” Wei Wuxian replied. He toed off his shoes, then shrunk back into the covers to press his freezing skin against Lan Wangji’s again.

“Don’t mess around,” Lan Wangji said evenly.

“I’m literally in your bed, and you’re telling me not to mess around?” Wei Wuxian said.

“Shufu has returned,” Lan Wangji said.

Lan Qiren’s residence wasn’t far from Lan Wangji’s Room of Tranquility. He didn’t like Wei Wuxian much to begin with, so if he caught wind of any inappropriate activity, he may very well fly into a thunderous rage at Wei Wuxian again the following day.

And yet, Wei Wuxian stuck a knee between Lan Wangji’s legs, covertly and naughtily pressing against him a couple of times, making his stance quite clear on the matter.

After a brief silence, Lan Wangji abruptly flipped them around so that Wei Wuxian was underneath him.

His movements were too big, too forceful, and the two hit the bed with a thud.

“Slow down, slow down, slow down—slow—down!”

Lan Wangji had pinned Wei Wuxian down onto the bed, penetrating him as easily as splitting bamboo, thrusting all the way inside. Only when his lower abdomen pressed against Wei Wuxian’s bare ass, when he couldn’t possibly go any deeper, did his body still.

Wei Wuxian took in a couple of shallow breaths, head thrown back. Trying not to make any unnecessary movements, he only looked around and wriggled his hips slightly in discomfort, trying to get him out a bit. However, Lan Wangji realized what he was trying to do, and holding down his waist, promptly slid right back in.

“Ah!” Wei Wuxian cried out. “Hanguang-jun!”

Lan Wangji bore it patiently for a moment, then said, “You brought this upon yourself.” He paused briefly, then began thrusting, again and again.

Wei Wuxian was trapped underneath him—toes curled, hair splayed, face flushed, body jostled up and down with Lan Wangji’s movements. With every one of Lan Wangji’s thrusts, Wei Wuxian cried out in response. Though Lan Wangji immersed himself in his efforts for a while, he couldn’t let Wei Wuxian continue on like this. Straining against the breaths threatening to burst out of his chest, he quietly said, “Lower… Lower your voice.”

Wei Wuxian reached up and stroked Lan Wangji’s cheek. This thin skin of Lan Zhan’s is so strange, he thought. His face is clearly scorching hot to the touch, and yet it refuses to turn red, still white as snow. The elegant Lan Zhan will lose himself in his emotions, hardly able to hold himself back, yet only his earlobes will be dusted with the faintest of pink.

Panting, he said, “Er-gege, you don’t want to hear me cry out?”

Lan Wangji: “……”

It was too difficult to speak the truth, yet he couldn’t bring himself to lie. Watching this sentiment flit across Lan Wangji’s face filled Wei Wuxian with an indescribable delight—he wanted to just eat him up.

“Afraid someone will hear me?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Easy. Just Silence me.”

Lan Wangji’s chest heaved, his eyes going slightly bloodshot. “C’mon!” Wei Wuxian taunted. “Cast Silence on me. Then no matter how you fuck me, even if you fuck me senseless, I won’t be able to make a sound—”

Before he could finish, Lan Wangji leaned down and sealed his lips.

After his mouth was stilled into silence, Wei Wuxian’s limbs wound around Lan Wangji. The two of them tumbled around on the bed, tussling together into a heap, blankets already on the ground.

Generally, Lan Wangji didn’t change positions often when they were intimate. After an hour of being pressed down and thrusted into, Wei Wuxian had gone numb from his lower back all the way down to his ass and thighs. He had a high suspicion that they would stay like this for the rest of the night—and considering Lan Wangji’s current state, without the slightest indication that he planned to stop anytime soon, it really could happen. Thus, Wei Wuxian took the initiative and flipped both of them over. Straddling him and wrapping his arms around his neck, he moved up and down on his own. He bit Lan Wangji’s earlobe and whispered, “Is it deep?”

His voice was low beside his ear, breath hot and humid. Lan Wangji held onto his shoulders, then brought him down, hard.

The thrust was incredibly intense. Wei Wuxian cried out in surprise, arms tightening around him. Lan Wangji stroked the small of his back and asked, “Is it deep.”

Wei Wuxian’s lips wobbled, but before he could regain his bearings and respond, his face suddenly scrunched up. “Ah! Wait! P-p-pace yourself!” he cried.

One hand struggled in vain to protect his abdomen, while the fingers of his other hand dug into the firm muscle of Lan Wangji’s shoulder. “Lan Zhan!” he yelled in terror, soul practically flying out of his body. “Do you not understand what pacing yourself means! You—don’t have—to go—so deep—every—every—”

The second half of his perfectly sound sentence was broken by thrusts, hitched and disjointed. Lan Wangji said, “I don’t understand!”

Initially, Wei Wuxian was wailing miserably, willing to say anything to beg for mercy—but after most of the night had passed, after they’d finished going at it twice, Wei Wuxian’s legs stayed locked around Lan Wangji’s waist, refusing to let him go.

Lan Wangji’s body covered Wei Wuxian entirely, and he was careful not to lean his weight onto him. The area where they were pressed against and connected to one another was wet and slick. Lan Wangji seemed like he wanted to get up, but he only got to move a little before Wei Wuxian’s legs tightened around him. The fraction that had just left him slotted seamlessly back in again.

“Stop moving,” Wei Wuxian said languidly. “There’s a draft. Let’s just lie here for a while.”

Lan Wangji acquiesced and didn’t move. After a while, he asked Wei Wuxian, “It’s not too much?”

“It is,” Wei Wuxian pouted. “You’re filling me up so much I could burst. You weren’t even listening to how pitifully I was crying out earlier.”

“…I’m pulling out,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian’s expression immediately changed. “I like it when you fill me up like this,” he said without mincing his words. “It feels good.”

He clenched down, hard. Lan Wangji’s expression shifted, and for a moment, even his breathing seemed to hitch. After bearing it for some time, he finally hoarsely said, “…Shameless!”

Seeing that he was nearly at his limit, Wei Wuxian laughed and placed a kiss on his lips. “Er-gege,” he said. “What haven’t we done? What’s there to be ashamed of?”

Lan Wangji shook his head a little in defeat. “Let me go,” he said softly. “You should bathe.”

“It’s fine, I’ll just wash up tomorrow,” Wei Wuxian said sleepily, already starting to tire a bit. “I’m exhausted from today.”

Lan Wangji placed a kiss on his forehead. “Bathe. Take care not to fall ill.”

Wei Wuxian was so tired that he couldn’t lock him in place anymore, his limbs finally going soft and letting go. Lan Wangji got off the bed, picking up the blanket that had fallen to the ground and covering Wei Wuxian’s body, tucking him in. Afterwards, he hung the clothes that had been thrown all over the place over the folding screen one by one, and draped his own robes over his shoulders. He dressed swiftly and neatly, and left to draw water for the bath.

After an incense stick’s time, Wei Wuxian, who had nearly fallen asleep, was picked up and placed into the bath basin. The basin was placed beside Lan Wangji’s writing desk, and after Wei Wuxian submerged himself in the water and waded around a little, he grew energized again. Patting the side of the basin, he said, “Aren’t you going to come in with me, Hanguang-jun!”

“In a moment,” Lan Wangji said.

“Why in a moment? Just come in now~” Wei Wuxian said.

Lan Wangji glanced at him, as if he were contemplating something. After a moment, he said, “We returned four days ago, and four of the Room of Tranquility’s bath basins are broken.”

With the look Lan Wangji was giving him, Wei Wuxian felt like he had to defend himself. “It wasn’t my fault last time.”

Lan Wangji placed the honeylocust soapbox where Wei Wuxian could reach it. “It was mine,” he said neutrally.

Wei Wuxian poured a cup of water down his neck with a splash. It was covered in love bites, and the more he washed, the brighter they glistened. “Exactly,” he said. “Last last time wasn’t my fault either. To be honest, you’re technically the one who breaks them every time. This bad habit of yours hasn’t changed since the first time you did it.”

Lan Wangji rose. When he returned, he placed a jug of Emperor’s Smile beside Wei Wuxian’s hand, then sat back down at his desk. “Indeed.”

If he stretched his arm out just a little farther, Wei Wuxian could scratch under Lan Wangji’s chin—and that’s exactly what he did. Lan Wangji took out some papers, covered densely with characters, and began to read, making brief comments in the margins. As Wei Wuxian sat in the bath, he opened his Emperor’s Smile, tilting his head back to drink. “What are you reading?” he asked casually.

“Night-hunt notes,” Lan Wangji replied.

“The kiddos wrote these?” Wei Wuxian said. “You’re not in charge of correcting notes and such, are you? From what I remember, that’s your uncle’s job.”

“Every once in a while, Shufu doesn’t have the capacity,” Lan Wangji said.

Lan Qiren was likely busy with more urgent matters, causing this work to temporarily fall upon Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian took two of them to read. “Back then, your uncle would write hundreds of words for every other line, and then summarize with almost another thousand words at the end. I have no idea where he found the time to write so much. Your comments are very sparing.”

“Is being sparing a bad thing?” Lan Wangji asked.

“It’s good!” Wei Wuxian said. “Clear and simple.”

It wasn’t because he was cutting corners. He managed even the simplest of tasks with the utmost diligence. Rather, he was just used to it—regardless of whether he was speaking or writing, he treated ink like gold, omitting any unnecessary details.

Wei Wuxian submerged his head underwater. After some time, he finally re-emerged, wet and dripping. He picked up the honeylocust soap and ran it down his hair with one hand, and took an assignment off the desk with the other. He’d hardly skimmed it before he let out a snort. “Who wrote this? So many characters are wrong, hahahahahahahaha. I just know it’s Jingyi. You gave him an yi.”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said.

“You have so many assignments here, but his is the only one I saw that didn’t get top marks,” Wei Wuxian said. “Poor kiddo.”

“Too many characters are wrong, and the analysis is redundant,” Lan Wangji said.

“What happens if you get an yi?” Wei Wuxian asked.

“Not much,” Lan Wangji said. “A rewrite.”

“He should know how lucky he is,” Wei Wuxian said. “That’s much better than being punished to copy lines while doing a handstand.”

Lan Wangji silently collected the essays that Wei Wuxian had scattered all over the place. He straightened them out then set the neatly arranged stack to the side. Wei Wuxian watched his movements, a smile automatically tugging at the corner of his lips. “How’d you grade Sizhui?”

Lan Wangji pulled out two sheets and handed them to him. “Jia.”

Wei Wuxian took and read them. “These characters are beautiful,” he said.

“The argument is clear and logical, and the content is focused and precise.”

When Wei Wuxian finished flipping through the pile in his hand, he saw another stack on the table that hadn’t been graded yet. “You need to go through all of these? How about I help you look through some?”

“Alright,” Lan Wangji said.

“All I have to do is mark any errors and give comments, right?” Wei Wuxian asked.

He took more than half the stack. Lan Wangji tried to take the papers back, but Wei Wuxian pulled away. “What are you doing.”

“That’s too many,” Lan Wangji said. “You’re bathing.”

Wei Wuxian took another drink from his Emperor’s Smile, and snatched a brush over. “I have nothing better to do while I bathe anyway. Reading the kiddos’ notes and essays will be rather fun.”

“You must rest after bathing,” Lan Wangji said.

“Does it look like I’ll be able to fall asleep? I feel like we could even go another couple of rounds,” Wei Wuxian bragged unabashedly.

As he watched Wei Wuxian lean against the bath basin—carefully reading through the notes, sometimes resting an elbow on the desk to write��the fire reflected in Lan Wangji’s eyes seemed to flicker with warmth.

Though Wei Wuxian’s words were bold, he had led a bunch of teenagers through the deep mountains to stir up a ruckus all day, then came back to mess around in bed for half the night, then graded a stack of notes. It was hard not to get sleepy. After standing firm and meticulously going through his pile, Wei Wuxian tossed them onto the desk and began slipping into the water. Eyes sharp, Lan Wangji quickly and gently lifted him up, toweled him dry, and carried him to bed.

The quick bath was over, and after Lan Wangji got into the bed and wrapped him in his arms, Wei Wuxian woke up for a little while again. He drowsily said against his collarbone, “Your family’s kiddos’ essays were written quite well. They just come a little short when night hunting.”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji said.

“That’s okay, though…” Wei Wuxian said. “While we’re in the Hidden Cloud Depths, I’ll help them cram. Tomorrow… I’ll bring them to make a mess of the shanxiao’s den again.”

One-legged shanxiao’s strength was second to none. Covered in black fur, it ate humans as easily as munching on a melon or slicing vegetables. To anyone else, though, it would’ve sounded like he was just bringing a group of snot-nosed kids up onto a rooftop to steal bird eggs.

The corner of Lan Wangji’s lips twitched, as if it wanted to go up. “You went to catch shanxiao again today?” he asked.

“Yeah, which is why I said they still have to keep training,” Wei Wuxian said. “Those mountain spirits only have one leg. If you can’t even outrun something with only a single leg, when you run into a lizard, a spider, or a centipede, aren’t you basically lying down and asking to die… ah right, Hanguang-jun, I’m out of money, you should grant me some more.”

“Simply withdraw some using the jade pendant,” Lan Wangji said.

Wei Wuxian blearily laughed a little, saying, “The jade pendant you gave me doesn’t just let you go through the barrier… but lets you withdraw money?”

“Yes,” Lan Wangji said. “Did you destroy someone’s street stall?”

“No… how could that happen… I spent all my money because… after the night hunt, I brought them to that Hunan restaurant in Caiyi Town… the one that you refused to go to before, even when I tried my hardest to drag you there… I’m so tired… Lan Zhan, stop talking to me…”

“Alright,” Lan Zhan said.

“…I told you to stop talking… you only have to say one word, and I can’t keep myself from replying… okay Lan Zhan, go to sleep soon alright, I… can’t hold on anymore… I’m really falling asleep… Lan Zhan, see you tomorrow…”

He kissed Lan Wangji’s Adam’s apple, and as promised, quickly fell into a deep sleep.

The Room of Tranquility grew still, cloaked in darkness.

After a while, Lan Wangji placed a soft kiss at the center of Wei Wuxian’s forehead.

“Wei Ying,” he said softly. “See you tomorrow.”

#mdzs #mdzs translation #mdzs extra #doufudanshi translation #dawn until dusk #wangxian #lots of fun little translation things going on in this chapter :)

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