#instead I stay up all night writing self indulgent smut that will never even see the light of day. what's even the point

[slytherin-pen]

for your bingo, AU with Azriel and I’m going to say Modern AU bc I don’t see it a lot and I’ve been thinking about it recently. Thank you, your writing is amazing.

Good Girl, Bad Boy

pairing: Azriel x Reader

word count: 2.9k

warnings: fade to black smut, smoking, drinking

tags: fem!reader, no use of y/n, biker!az, good girl!reader

a/n: i’ve been having cardiac episodes today but i shall not be stopped! this was slightly self-indulgent in the sense that i’ve had biker!az on my mind for awhile and saw my opportunity to finally write about him. hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

You had always prided yourself on doing the right thing. Straight A’s throughout your schooling career, perfect attendance, frequent volunteer shifts at the local food bank, and attending church every Sunday. Your parents beamed with pride at every report card and honor roll certificate. They bragged about you to their friends about how perfect and easy you were, nothing like those other kids who went out partying and got themselves into trouble. That was your life—neat, organized, responsible.

Until Azriel.

You met him after you had stayed late at the library to finish an essay. He had been leaning against his motorcycle in the parking lot, leather jacket, messy black hair falling into his piercing hazel eyes. Tattoos snaked down his arms, vanishing beneath the cuffs of his rolled up sleeves. You should have walked the other way. Instead, your heart stuttered in your chest, and you couldn’t look away.

“Need a ride?” he’d asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You’d shaken your head, clutching your books tighter. But he’d just smiled. A slow, dangerous smile that made your knees weak.

After that night, you couldn’t get him out of your head. You started seeing him around campus, always leaning against that bike or some wall, always looking like he’d stepped out of some forbidden dream. You never saw him in class, but you occasionally spotted him in the administration building when you delivered paperwork for a teacher.

Eventually, you started talking. At first, it was nothing—just passing comments, snarky remarks he’d toss your way about what “the goody-two-shoes is up to today”. You had surprised yourself by teasing him back. It had felt good to let go of the good girl act, even if it had just been through words. And when he asked you out, you said yes before you even realized what you were doing.

Your first real date had been nothing like the safe dinners you’d gone on with your parents’ idea of a “nice boy.” Azriel hadn’t taken you to a restaurant or a movie. He’d given you a taste of freedom.

You had hesitated when he handed you a helmet, your heart thudding in your chest. But his fingers brushed your cheek, and his eyes locked on yours.

“Trust me,” he said softly.

And you did.

You had climbed on behind him, your arms wrapping around his waist. The engine roared to life beneath you, and he grinned over his shoulder.

“Hold on tight.”

You still thought about that first ride with him sometimes. The way you had squealed as the bike shot forward, your hair streaming behind you, the cold night air on your cheeks. The solid strength of his body beneath your palms, and the warmth of him seeping through his leather jacket. It had been exhilarating.

Tonight’s date was a lot like that first one, and arguably your favorite type of date Azriel took you on.

He pulled up in front of a bar that looked like it had seen better days, with a faded neon sign and cracked windows. You found you liked the charm of it all. It was cozy in its own way.

Azriel swung his leg over and got off the bike, turning around and holding his hand out for you.

You took your helmet off first and took his hand, allowing him to help you get off without flashing everyone in the parking due to your dress. He always told you it was safer to wear pants, but you liked looking pretty for him.

The bar was loud and smoky, the scent of spilled beer and cigarettes lingering in the air. People looked up with curiosity as you walked in.. Azriel didn’t even glance at them. He walked straight to the booth in the back corner, pulling you along behind him

“Well if it isn’t Az and his angel,” Cassian called, a grin spreading across his face as took the two of you in.

“Nice to see you again, darling,” Rhysand greeted, pushing a Shirley Temple toward you as you and Azriel sat down.

Your cheeks burned, still not used to the way Azriel’s friends had accepted you so thoroughly. “Thank you,” you murmured.

Az chuckled next to you, wrapping one arm around you while the other picked up his glass of whiskey. “No need to be so shy, angel.”

You watched his tan throat bob as he took a sip and gulped. He was so sexy. You still couldn’t believe he was yours at times, your personalities so at odds with each other. But in the same way you liked that he was a typical rebellious bad boy, he liked that you were innocent and kind.

It reminded you of your sophomore chemistry class, putting a negative and positive magnet together, clicking with each other instantly. If there was anything that could sum up you and Azriel’s relationship, it was that.

You sat quietly next to him, listening to him and friends catch up. Cassian’s boisterous laugh and Rhysand’s smooth teasing. Cassian wore a dry-fit long sleeve, his long curly hair tied up in a bun. He had likely come straight here after the gym. If you learned anything about him, it was that he was a gym rat.

Rhysand was dressed more meticulously. A black button-up and slacks, his midnight hair combed back with gel. The Rolex on his wrist reflected the light coming from above and you had to bite back a laugh at the sheer oddity of him being here in this run-down bar. He looked better suited for a country club—or the mafia. If you remember correctly, he helped out at his dad’s business in between his course load.

You startled slightly when Azriel’s voice cut through your thoughts. “Would you like anything to eat?” he asked.

Your lips pursed as you considered, opting to grab the menu out of its basket and flip it open. They had the best appetizers here. Fried with just the right amount of grease. Your stomach growled in agreement.

“I’ll take the mozzarella sticks,” you said, smiling up at Azriel.

Azriel kissed your head and waved over a waitress. A brunette in a simple black shirt and shorts with a notepad came over to the table. Your eyes roamed over her as she started to take Cassian’s order. She had several tattoos and they looked beautiful on her skin. Some simple, some intricate. Your gaze moved back to Azriel, eyeing the ink crawling up his neck. You smirked as an idea came to mind.

“And we’ll have the mozzarella sticks, cheese fries, and boneless wings. Double ranch,” Azriel ordered.

“Good Lord, Az,” you gasped. “You sound like Cass.”

“Hey!” Cassian said, his hand over his heart in offense. Rhys chuckled and patted him on the shoulder.

The waitress nodded with raised eyebrows. “I’ll go put that in for you.”

Once she was gone, Azriel turned to you. “I know you can never choose between them, so I got you all three.”

Your jaw dropped. “I can’t eat all of that!”

Azriel smiled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Relax, love. I’ll eat some, too. And worst case scenario, Cassian is always hungry.”

“Why the hell am I catching strays today, huh?” Cassian asked, the twitch of his lips betraying the fact he wasn’t truly offended.

“Sorry, Cassie,” you pouted, your own smile growing. “It’s just that we’ve seen you eat two boxes of pizza all by yourself. You’re kind of a bottomless pit,” you shrugged.

Rhys guffawed, throwing his head back in laughter as his fist hit the table causing the drinks to shake. “Oh wow, the kitty’s got claws today!”

Cassian shook his head, but there was mirth in his eyes as he looked at you. “I’m honored to be her first target,” he said, sending you a wink.

Your cheeks heated again and you looked up at Azriel as his grip tightened on your waist. But he wasn’t looking at you. He was glaring at Cassian. “Don’t fucking flirt with my girlfriend,” he said through gritted teeth.

Your eyes widened in shock at the anger radiating off of him. You placed your hand on his bicep, squeezing slightly. “Az,” you said quietly, “it’s alright. He wasn’t flirting with me.” You cast a glance at Cassian and noticed he had gone pale. Even Rhysand was on edge, his eyes flicking between the two men.

“Hey,” you murmured, shaking Azriel gently. He finally looked at you. His eyes softened slightly as he met your gaze and you couldn’t help your shy smile. You reached up to cup his cheek and shifted closer to him until your noses were nearly touching. “We were just messing around, yeah? I’m yours, and you are mine. Everyone knows that.”

You knew you were starting to get through to him when his jaw finally relaxed. You brushed your lips against his and he accepted your offer, fusing his lips with yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, claiming you, and you melted into him. His hand moved to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair and angling your head so he could kiss you deeper.

You were interrupted by a throat cleaning. You looked around dazedly, then nearly yelped when you realized the waitress was standing there with trays of food. You heard a soft chuckle and then a grunt of pain, but you didn’t see what happened because you were too busy staring at your lap in embarrassment.

“I have the double stuffed burger and nachos for you, the cobb salad for you, and the triple appetizers for you two,” your waitress listed off, placing the plates in front of each of you. “Can I get you guys anything else?”

“Your number would be great,” Cassian said, leaning forward slightly to shoot her a cocky grin. Rhysand scoffed and rolled his eyes, though his lips twitched into a slight smirk.

The waitress laughed, then scribbled on her notepad before ripping out a page and passing it to Cassian. “Work on your game before you call me,” she said, then turned and walked away, her hips swaying behind her.

Azriel choked on his drink while Rhysand laughed, slapping Cassian’s shoulder repeatedly. You giggled behind your hand as Cassian muttered something about his game being “perfectly fine”.

Once you all calmed down, you dug into your food. Azriel kept his promise to help you eat it all, though he was eating at a slower pace than usual, likely trying to make sure you got your fill. You ate a little of everything as Azriel predicted. The mozzarella sticks were delectably cheesy, as were the cheese fries. They were topped with bacon and scallions, the flavors bursting on your tongue. It seemed so simple, but it was nothing like the food you usually ate. Your mom preferred to make healthy, home-cooked meals, and if your family went out to eat it was at a restaurant no lower than five stars.

At some point, your virgin Shirley Temple got replaced with a fruity, alcoholic drink. It was dangerously delicious, the note of vodka so minute you could barely taste it. Azriel had switched to water, being mindful of the fact he would be driving the two of you to his apartment. The boys joked with each other and talked about classes, work, and whether Cass actually had a chance with the waitress.

You, unfortunately, were a major lightweight, and that fact was beginning to become obvious. You giggled as you laid your head on Azriel’s shoulder, smiling up at him. He immediately turned his attention to you, returning your smile.

“Hi, angel,” he said. He was so beautiful. You knew that already, of course, but the drunken haze you were in only amplified how strongly you felt about it.

“Hi, Az,” you whispered.

“Are you ready to go?” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

You nodded, your pulse hammering in your throat.

Azriel pulled out his wallet and left a few twenties on the table. “We’re going to head out,” he said to Rhysand and Cassian as he stood up and held a hand out for you.

The men said their goodbyes to you and you sent them a wave over your shoulder as Azriel led you out the door.

Azriel took you back to his apartment, a small place on the edge of town. The walls were covered in posters, some of them album covers, some of them images of motorcycles. A guitar rested on its stand in the corner, and there was a lingering scent of smoke and his cedar wood cologne in the air.

You were snuggled into as Azriel’s side on the couch as he rolled a joint. He’d taken his jacket off now that he was home, and you admired the flexing of his arm muscles as he turned the grinder.

It wasn’t the first time he’d smoked around you, but with the buzz of alcohol coursing through you, you considered trying it for yourself for the first time.

As if noticing your gaze, Azriel blew his puff out and held the blunt out to you. “Want some?”

You hesitated. But then you thought of how he made you feel—alive, reckless, free. How he broke down the carefully crafted walls you had built around yourself and your life. The way you wanted more of that feeling. You took it.

It tasted earthy and bitter on your tongue, the smoke curling down your throat. You coughed, and he chuckled, taking it back from you.

“Easy,” he said, taking a slow drag himself. He held the smoke in his lungs for a moment before blowing it out in a lazy cloud. “Just breathe it in.”

You tried again, slower this time. It still burned, but the edges of your anxiety started to blur, everything softening and sweetening. The music playing on his speaker pulsed through you, and you sank into the couch beside him, your body warm and heavy.

Azriel watched you, his lips curled into a half-smile. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin.

“You look so damn pretty right now,” he murmured.

Your heart stuttered at his words. He complimented you all the time, but you never got used to it. “You look handsome,” you replied.

He hummed, his thumb brushing your bottom lip. “I love you.”

A goofy smile spread across your face, just like every other time he said those three little words. “I love you, too.”

You loved him so much. You loved the way he looked at you like you were something precious. You loved the way he reminded the world was bigger than your perfect grades and your parents’ expectations. In all your years of being alive, being with him felt like the first time you were truly living.

You leaned forward and kissed him.

He tasted like weed and whiskey, his mouth hot and demanding against yours. His hands slid down your sides, pulling you closer until you were straddling his lap. You felt the hard press of him beneath you, and your breath caught in your throat.

“Az,” you gasped, your hands fisting in his shirt.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his lips brushing your jaw, your neck, the hollow of your throat. “Tell me that you don’t want this.”

You couldn’t. You wanted this, wanted him. You always did, but with your inhibitions lowered, there was no anxiety, no self-prescribed rules holding you back. You weren’t a virgin, an unfortunate story involving an ex-boyfriend who you had thought was going to propose to you after you graduated high school and before he joined the military, only for him to cheat on you a few weeks after prom. But it was different with Az. You hadn’t gone that far with him yet. There had been plenty of intense makeout sessions and roaming hands but nothing further.

You were ready to take that step now. You knew he wasn’t just using you. He truly loved you, and you loved him. “Fuck me, Az,” you whispered.

His eyes darkened, and he surged up to kiss you again, deeper, harder.

He stood up with you in his arms, never breaking the kiss, and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He laid you down on his bed, his weight pressing you into the mattress. You arched up against him, your body aching for more.

“You’re sure?” he asked one last time, his voice hoarse.

You nodded, your breath coming in soft, desperate little gasps. “I’m sure,” you said.

He smiled and kissed you again, savoring every inch of you. His hands slid under your dress, his touch gentle and reverent. You let him pull your dress over your head, and you instinctively curled in on yourself.

Azriel’s hands flew to your thighs, stopping you. “Don’t hide from me,” he growled. “You are exquisite. Let me see you.”

You paused, then nodded and relaxed your body, laying yourself bare to him. And when he finally moved against you, when he claimed you with slow, deliberate thrusts that had you gasping his name—it was everything you never knew you needed. The world narrowed down to the two of you, and you let go of every expectation, every thought.

You let yourself be his.

The night ended in tangled sheets and breathless pants. Azriel held you against his bare chest, tracing his fingers up and down your spine.

“You’re mine, angel,” he whispered against your hair.

And for the first time in your life, you didn’t feel like you had to be perfect. You just had to be his.

Bingo 500 taglist: @nocasdatsgay

[malachitezmeyka]

Just remembered I stayed up until 5 a.m writing 2.6k of the filthiest smut I have ever written

[sacr1ficialang3l]

Somewhere in the thoroughfare˚୨୧⋆｡ 

OLDER!DEAN WINCHESTER X YOUNGER!READER

SUMMARY: Dean and reader embark on a journey to see the west. They drive for hours upon hours, but reader knows the perfect way to distract Dean for a while. 2.9k

WARNINGS: smut (MDNI). oral m receiving. getting a blow job while driving. do not try this at home kids. age gap.

NOTES: Daddy is back! It took me a long time because I haven't been very inspired lately, sorry I disappeared for a bit. I am still not an expert in writing smut, I will learn one day I promise. Anyway, another one of my little self-indulgent fantasies for you all. As always, English is not my first language. Enjoy<3

Summer this year was hot and sticky, all humid air and warm sunlight.

It had been miraculously quiet in the supernatural world for the past few weeks, and Dean decided it was the perfect time to take his pretty girl for vacation. He had noticed that you were a little down lately, a little less smiley and your eyes a little less sparkly. You were good at hiding it, but Dean knew that the hunting life was hard on you sometimes. He had gotten used to it after so many years, barely feeling the ache in his bones and the weight on his shoulders anymore, but when he held you in his arms while you cried your pretty eyes out one night, he decided you two needed a break.

He got his credit card ready, picturing five-star hotels and bustling city nights. He was even willing to board a plane just for you. Anything for his sweet girl. So one night, when he was letting you talk about your favorite pop artists—

"So, this Taylor Swift album–"

"Oh, please. Don’t torture me like this, princess. I swear music died in the '90s."

"Shut up and listen, old man. Let me introduce you to peak lyricism."

He interrupts you and explains his plan, asking you to choose any destination.

Imagine his surprise when instead of asking for anything he thought, you chose a road trip.

“Really, sweetheart? All we do is be on the road.”

“I know, but never without the burden of hunting. I wanna drive around with you, no guns or monsters, just us and your other baby.”

“Aren’t you tired of it? Don’t get me wrong, I am thrilled not to get into a plane, but this is for you. We can go anywhere you want, baby.”

“I could never get tired of it. In your car, with all of your dumb luck, is the only place I’ll ever wanna be.”

Dean stares at you for a long moment, eyes a little clouded with something intense, something that makes your insides burn.

“How can you be so perfect?” that makes you giggle, biting your lip and looking up at your boyfriend. “So, where are we going, love?”

“I don’t really care as long as you're with me.”

“Come on. There must be somewhere you wanna go, anywhere.”

“What about Oregon? Oh, but I would also love to drive down Big Sur with you. But what about–”

You were interrupted by Dean’s gruff laughter.

“I think I get the point. We have no time limit, I know how we can visit all the places you want.”

Dean grabbed your waist and pulled you on top of him, letting his hands –so callused from his pistol– brush down your lower back as he pulled you as close as possible.

“Come see the west with me, sweetheart.”

You are somewhere in north Oregon, almost in Washington. You had tried to convince Dean to take you to Forks, but the moment the word Twilight came out of your mouth he refused. (He ends up driving you there a week later, begrudgingly letting you take the aux and play Paramore the whole time you are in there.)

It is one week into your vacation, and the summer heat has only gotten worse. You and Dean are driving down a lonely road towards a little cabin you rented—it was in the middle of the woods and looked extremely homey. You were thrilled when you found it, even though explaining to Dean how Airbnb worked was an ordeal, considering he had only ever stayed in shitty motels without ever making a reservation or entering credit cards in some website.— You are planning to stay there for at least a week before resuming your journey to California.

So right now, you two are surrounded only by the trees, the setting sun, and the extremely hot air. The wind through the window is thick and muggy, clinging to your skin as you rest across the front seat of the Impala. Your socked feet dig into Dean’s thigh, and your head dangles out the window, hair catching the breeze, whipping gently around your face. Your eyes are closed while you tap your hand against your bare leg along with the beat of one of Dean’s rock songs, enjoying the way one of his hands is wrapped around your ankle.

You still find it astonishing that even in this weather, Dean is wearing his usual jeans and black shirt. At least you had convinced him to drop the flannel. You are the complete opposite, dressed in short shorts that barely hit your upper thigh and a white tank top with no bra on. You told him it was because wearing one made you sweat more when he asked, but the truth is that you liked the way Dean stared at the outline of your nipple piercings through the thin material of your almost translucent top, eyes hungry and feral.

You tilt your head up to look at your boyfriend when he starts singing along, his voice barely audible over the wind on your ears. There he is, knowing every lyric of a song released many years before you were born, his crow's feet even more pronounced as a relaxed smile settled on his face, the rough skin of his fingers brushing up and down your calf.

He catches you looking at him, and he gives you one of his signature smug grins.

“See something you like, sweetheart?”

“Oh, definitely.” You say flirtily, pulling your head back inside of the car and half-closing your window to eliminate some of the whistling.

Dean chuckles, and once again, you’re struck by how incredibly handsome he is. His elbow rests casually on the edge of his open window as he grips the steering wheel with ease. The setting sun casts a warm glow over him, making his green eyes practically glow. The veins on his forearms stand out, and the black shirt clings tightly to his chest and biceps.

At the end of the day, you are just a girl, so you lean forward and sink your teeth into the strong muscle of his arm. God, it was so big, almost as big as your head. Dean hisses a bit at the pain but doesn’t pull away, too used to your shenanigans.

“Is this what vampire movies did to your generation?” He grumbles when you let go of his flesh, but his expression softens when he hears you giggle while you admire your work.

There’s a deep set of teeth marks on his bicep—a perfect imprint of your canines. He pretended to be annoyed when you bit him, but he actually relished in bearing your mark. Because he is as yours as you are his.

“Nope, you’re just biteable.”

That makes him snort and shake his head fondly. You look at him again, now closer, and you have to bite your lip at how hot your boyfriend is. This older, experienced, kind, sweet man… all for you. You are so lucky.

A great idea strikes you. You check the GPS on your phone, (Dean refused to use it, saying that he knew how to find his way everywhere with just a map) According to it, you’ve got at least another hour on this empty road. Perfect.

You shuffle around in the bench seat of the Impala until the point of your feet are pressed against the car door, knees bent comfortably as you let your head fall down into Dean’s lap. He is a little startled at first, sending you a confused look. But you simply beam at him sweetly, staring into his eyes from between his torso and the steering wheel. He laughs, brushing some hair out of your face with his free hand.

You wait for a few minutes before putting your plan into action. The moment Dean’s eyes are extra focused on the road, his fingers drumming along to some song you think is by Led Zeppelin (you are learning, for him), you tilt your head to the side and press your cheek against his crotch.

Dean’s movements halt for a second, and he sends you a warning look.

“What do you think you're doing, sweetheart?”

You say nothing, giggling softly and nuzzling against his clothed dick again. The fabric of the denim was rough, and it burned your skin just right. You start to feel how Dean slowly starts to harden under you, and you start to leave soft kisses all over his upper thighs and over the growing bulge.

“Baby, I am serious.” He calls out your name when you don’t stop. “I am driving, for god's sake.”

You catch the edge of the waistline of his jeans in between your teeth, pulling at it softly before you look up at Dean, all doe eyes and fluttering lashes.

“You’ve been driving for hours. Let me give you a little thank-you, baby.”

Dean groans, both his hands now in the steering wheel, like he was scared to lose control. He licks his lips, thinking for a moment with an almost pained expression.

“You’re so… I’m gonna lose my damn mind.” He murmurs, more to himself than to you. “I won’t stop you, but just know that if we crash against some fucking tree it will be your fault.”

You giggle and proceed to unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper. You lick a long strip across his now completely hard cock over his boxers. It makes Dean’s breath hitch, and his hips twitch subtly under you. You keep mouthing at the bulge over the thin fabric of the underwear until it is completely soaked with spit.

“Come on, darling.” Dean grunts. “Don’t be a tease.”

You use your hands to pull his erection out of his underwear. It is a little cramped and less than ideal in the small space you have, but you manage to pull his pants down enough so that his cock stands proudly in front of you, long and hard and wet with your spit.

You shift in the seat of the impala once again until you are laying on your stomach, feet kicking in the air playfully as if you were doing the most innocent of things instead of about to blow your boyfriend while he drove.

You brush your tongue against the throbbing tip of Dean’s dick, collecting the precum already there into your mouth. You hear Dean groan distantly, but your head was getting a little hazy already. You loved sucking Dean’s cock. He fit so right in your mouth, the weight and taste of him in your tongue so perfect that you felt dizzy with it. You could spend hours with him nuzzled against your throat, suckling and swallowing around him.

You give kitten licks to the whole length, getting him sloppy and ready. The moment the tip slides in between your lips, Dean lets out the first low moan. It was heavy and husky, and you absolutely loved it. You take him deeper into your mouth, starting to bop your head up and down.

“Fuck, yes. So good, so– ah, so fucking good for me, baby.”

You can feel his eyes on you, and you lean away slightly, his cock sliding out of your mouth with a wet pop.

“Eyes on the road, Dean.” There is a string of saliva connecting your lips and Dean’s dick, and the image makes him curse, his jaw clenching as his eyes flick back up.

You take him inside your mouth again, deeper this time. You breathe in through your nose before you sink in further, until he hits the back of your throat. It makes Dean grunt loudly, but it quickly turns into an extended moan as the warm walls of your throat contract around him.

“Mmnh— you feel so good, baby. You were made for this. Such a tight, warm little mouth just for me. Such, ah, such a good girl, taking my cock so deep. Fuck.”

Dean’s knuckles are white where he is holding the wheel for dear life. You hum at the praises, and Dean lets out a choked whine at the vibrations that throbbed through his length, cock twitching and more precum dribbling out of his tip.

You feel your mind spin a little at Dean’s words and the sweet feeling of him so deeply settled into your mouth. You brush your tongue against the underside of his cock, and it is messy. You’re almost desperate with it, drool dribbling past your lips and down Dean’s balls. He hiss at the feeling and throws his head back for just one second before his eyes return to the road.

“You love cock so much, don’t you?” He growls, strangled. “So fucking sloppy and messy. My pretty girl all needy for me.”

You whimper around him at his words, and you start to suck with renewed vigour. Slurping around Dean’s length and letting out pleased noises every time he hit the back of your throat. He keeps murmuring filthy words at you, fighting the way his hips desperately wanted to thrust into your mouth.

Seriously, you are lucky he has so much self control and doesn’t end up flipping the car.

“Yeah, just like that, sweetheart. I’m– a-ah, I'm close. Make me come in your mouth, baby.”

You pull back a bit, wanting Dean to come on your tongue— you want to taste it, savor the way it coats your tongue with a flavor that you can only describe as Dean. You use your fist to jerk whatever is left out of your mouth, and when your tongue presses into his slit, his cock pulses and he comes.

Dean’s groan is guttural and desperate, fighting to keep his eyes open and his hands firmly on the wheel. Thick ropes of cum fall onto your tongue, and you let out a contented little hum. You lap it all up, eyes rolling back in satisfaction. You swallow around his cock, prolonging his orgasm and making him twitch one last time. Even after he stops coming, you keep suckling around the head of his cock. Dean hisses in overstimulation.

“That’s enough, princess.” He pants, pulling you away by the hair. The combination of the pain and the lack of dick makes you whine. “Stop, or I am seriously crashing the car.”

You lick your lips as you try to catch your breath. You somehow look even worse than Dean did, eyes teary and lips puffy. There was spit dripping down your chin and your breathing was ragged. Your cheek is red and itchy where it rubbed against his jeans, but you love the feeling.

You blink at Dean twice, the fog in your mind slowly dissipating and a proud little grin taking over your face instead.

“I love the way you taste.” You murmur dreamily, and it makes Dean glare at you as he groans.

“You need to stop saying things like that before I pull over and fucking ravish you.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You wink at him, moving until you are sitting correctly on the car seat.

Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes, but there is a pleased smile on his face. He looks somehow even sexier now, the post-orgasm glow turning his eyes shinier and adding an edge to his grin.

Fuck, you still couldn’t believe all that was yours.

You sigh, opening the glove box and pulling out some tissues. Dean has already put himself back into his pants, so you wipe the last traces of spit off your face. Your throat feels a little raw, so you turn and bend over the backrest of the front seat to reach the cooler Dean keeps in the back.

“Fuck, you’re a hazard while driving.”

You grab a water bottle when you feel him slap your ass. The sharp sting spreads through you, heat prickling every nerve. You sit back down with a huff, turning to him with an incredulous expression.

“What?”

Dean shrugs, trying —and failing— to look innocent, his smirk betraying him.

“Come on. You can’t bend over like that and not expect it. I’m only human after all, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, but an endeared smile takes over your face.

“Why do I keep you around again?”

A day later, you are sitting outside of the rented cabin with Dean next to you, surrounded by nothing but nature. You made him a simple flower crow with some daisies and baby’s breath you’d found in a clearing nearby. It took plenty of begging, pouting, and soft kisses to convince him to wear it, but once it was on, he hadn’t taken it off.

The days pass in a blur of quiet moments—early mornings spent sipping coffee on the cabin’s porch, evenings filled with whiskey, laughter and many more of those old-man stories you loved so much. And of course, a lot more sex.

Weeks later, after countless motel rooms and small-town diners, you find yourselves standing on the coast. you are near the beach, where the salty breeze mingled with the sound of crashing waves, and the sun hangs warm and golden overhead. Dean stands behind you, strong arms wrapped around your waist, pressing you back against his chest, chin resting against the top of your head.

And right there, in that perfect moment, when Dean turns you around softly and presses his lips to yours, you know exactly why you keep him around.

Because there’s no one else out there for you. Dean Winchester—old enough to be your father, a big bad hunter carrying more baggage than most could bear, with a neon sign flashing 'trouble' on his forehead—is the love of your life.

NOTES: I am trying my best with the smut pls be nice. Another ode to sucking dick by me (I am a virgin if it wasn't clear by now).

TAGS: @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @pink-ghost666 @h8aaz @otteropera @xoswiftieprincess <3

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!

[uselesssomebody]

𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕦𝕡 - post!d&w!logan howlett x reader

complete masterlist | logan howlett - coming soon!

words || 𝟚.𝟡𝕜

summary || in which the reader gets stood up, and logan consoles her - in more than one way

a/n || self indulgent :)) guess what happened to me guys !!

➵ i know i've been literally dead but i may be back! not sure fully yet lol but i've missed writing. shocker, college is in fact hard and i've spent a whileeee adjusting. that also means my writing is prob a bit shit here but i just wanted to get this out

➵ first time writing logan - i watched deadpool & wolverine and oh my godddd this man can fucking get it. haven't watched the x-men movies so i kinda had to guess his accent, sorry if it's inconsistent. this is set after the events of deadpool & wolverine

➵ shall i revamp the blog theme guys? i don't have any ideas but idk if you guys are bored by it haha

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smut/a wee bit of angst

➵ fingering

➵ age gap (not a plot point)

(tell me if i miss anything)

having 2 people in a one bedroom apartment was already cramped. 3 is insane. as much as wade tried, he felt bad for poor hugh's - *cough* logan's back for constantly swapping between the dingy couch and the mattress on the floor to sleep.

and the wolverine was never the type to ask for help, it pissed him off. they had been nearly atomized together for christ's sake!

another room on the floor had opened up, and as much as wade wanted to kick blind al off to that room instead, he knew the old lady wouldn't be able to pay the whole rent herself, and he had to make sure she didn't use too much fun-time sugar under fox's watchful eye. luckily, neither did logan have to live alone, as wade was quick to find a down-on-her-luck college girl who needed cheap rent.

so, now wade's stuck with an ornery old woman, and pretty-boy - well, man - logan got to have a cute girl as his roommate. just his luck. he checked in on his fellow invincible often, and as much as logan didn't talk, wade knew he didn't mind her one bit.

she tried to be a good roommate - cook breakfast for the both of them, pick up a sweet treat for him too if she was getting one for herself, and trying to keep to herself with the studying. but she couldn't help the little crush that she had on her roommate. like, come on.

older, mature, mysterious, downright yummy? what's a girl to do? she kept it to herself, but seeing him smirk or chuckle when she realizes she's accidentally been staring at him in that leather jacket or shirtless going to bed. at least she doesn't make him uncomfortable, but it feels pretty dismissive - how he sees her as such a fucking kid that he can't even take her attraction seriously.

logan took it very fucking seriously.

every day was a mental challenge - truly, god gives his worst temptations to his strongest soldiers. the liquor on his breath was still strong, not now because his life was ruined, but rather because his mind was.

this cute, young girl who looked at him like he was the solution to all her relationship issues, like his old-man body was good enough to fucking eat? it was a miracle that he hadn't taken her. and she just looked so beautiful as she got ready for bed, or as she bobbed her head to music while she studied, or as she buzzed around the small kitchen to cook her third cheap pasta for the week.

it didn't help how she'd always ask how he is, buy him little things to keep his mood up, and always offered to take the couch. he'd rather eat glass than let her sleep on the couch, but nonetheless, she offered every day.

fuck. it was impossible to sleep when she was just behind the wall, in her fucking shorts and tank. unbelievable. he needed a fucking drink.

some nights, he'll come home in the evenings to an empty house. it's rare - she doesn't have too much money to go out, but when she does, she'll usually warn him she'll be home late. he always makes sure to stay awake until she gets home, and even had the privilege of going into downtown to pick her up after the friends she was with had managed to lose her. she had hiccuped, tearing up in embarrassment as she watched him approach her drunk form leaning on a tree outside. she had thought the stern arch of his brow was because of her calling him so late, when really, he was just angry that her friends had the audacity to put her in such a dangerous situation.

"it's windy." he grunts, and she looks down at her short, strappy dress, ashamed.

"s-sorry. we drove here." she tries to explain, and logan relents, brow going from angry to grumpy.

"yeah." he finally sighs, walking with her back to their place. seeing her hands go to cradle her elbows, he places his leather jacket over her shoulders, and she swallows thickly.

"you don't have to-" but he's lighting a cigar as she speaks, in just his wifebeater he'd been lounging in. she decides to shut up, silent until they reach the house.

he helps her in and then waits outside to finish the cigar, and after she gets in, she sighs softly, carefully placing the jacket down. she starts trying to make logan some dinner as a thank-you, but passes out at the dinner table half-way through. luckily, she hadn't had the stove on, and logan's heart melts as he sees her, halfway through mixing a few eggs, head lolling off the chair as she drools a little.

cutie, he thinks, separating her fingers from the fork and bowl, and carrying her into the bed. as he tries to set her down, her fingers clutch his arm, and a small, sleepy whine leaves her.

logan's not a man to blush, but hearing that little beg for him to stay makes him fucking burn. he looks down at her, a hand running through his hair, and he gently tries to let her down again. she just holds on tighter, groaning, "warm..." a little mumble escapes her, and logan huffs. of course it's not that she wants him, she's just cold. he sighs, sitting down and letting her cuddle into his arm.

he had planned to leave once she'd passed out, but it was late, and he was old, so he had ended up just sleeping next to her anyways. the sun's rays the next morning pierce his eyes, and he sighs softly, waking up next to her. he swallows thickly, watching the way the sun hits her form, bathing her exposed skin in orange and amber.

the moment is broken by her startling awake. for a moment, she sighs happily, thinking that this was just a continuation of her dream about logan, where she wakes up next to him after a night of great sex, and they both live happily ever after. then she blinks.

his bicep feels bigger than in the dream, his face looks a little more real, he's- real?!

she squeaks, immediately sitting up.

"logan?"

"don't go getting any ideas in your head." he immediately defends, sighing. "you called me last night."

she bites her lip.

"you took me home?"

"put you in bed too. then ya fucking kept me on ya like a boa." he's joking, but she still struggles to tell between his grumpy voice and his joking grumpy voice.

"fuck, i'm really sorry, must have ruined your night-" she starts, and he gets up, ruffling her hair.

"it's okay. better knowing you were safe." it leaves her a little star struck, especially when he then goes to continue making the omelette she had tried to make last night.

he's cooking for her for once and she gets such a nice view of his broad back in that wife-beater. maybe things aren't that bad.

knowing how she always texts if she's out late, he's a bit confused to come home to an empty room. he huffs, trying not to panic, but he can't help how much he care for the girl. he leans back, lounging on the couch.

as an hour passes with no texts, he's about to get up and ... do something. look for her, call her - something.

just then, she walks through the door, purse dropping on the floor with a thud.

that's an attitude he hadn't seen before. she looks like a deer in headlights when she notices that he is in fact home.

"o-oh." she blinks, quickly picking up the purse, as if to console it. "wade said you weren't home." logan raises a brow, a little curious why the other man would say that.

"long day?" he finally comments, and she breathes out.

"shit day." she corrects. logan's brow furrows.

"hmm." he murmurs, stretching his arm out over the back of the couch. an open invitation. she hesitates but... he looks warm.

conservatively, she sits beside him, hands in her lap. she's not even paying attention to whatever channel logan has on as background noise.

theres maybe 5 solid minutes of silence.

finally, she sighs.

"i'm gonna go to bed." she murmurs softly, getting up. logan wraps his fingers around her palm.

"talk to me." he mumbles gruffly, and she knows that's a pretty big first step for him. she bites her lip, sitting back down, and takes a deep breath.

"got stood up." it's little more than a whisper, and she feels a pout forming on her lips, which she tries to reverse, to little avail. it's silent again, and she wonders if logan heard her.

of course, he did - spending a moment processing who the hell would stand her up.

"i'm sorry." his rough fingers press over hers, comforting, and she can't help but sink more into him than the couch cushions.

it feels nice, more right than the kisses she'd shared with the guy she'd been seeing.

"whatever." she tries to mumble, trying not to show her hurt.

"he's an idiot." his hand slips around her shoulders, and he can feel her pulse quicken.

"i'm an idiot."

"he's an idiot." he repeats sternly. "who was he?" she bites her lip.

"some... guy." logan suppresses a scoffing bark.

"not if he's got you like this." he looks down at her. she's ashamed to look up at him.

"i don't know... i just really liked him. i thought he liked me too." she feels a tear slip out, and logan's fist squeezes in anger as he sees her quickly wipe it away.

"he should be singin' his prayers that he even got your attention." that makes her giggle - strained, but there. he prefers the sound to her defeated mumbles. "look at me." he murmurs, taking her chin and angling it to face him. his eyes travel down to the cute dress she'd put on for her date - low cut, perfectly form fitting, "he's a fucking idiot." he whispers, hand slipping down to her waist.

"yeah?" she whispers, significantly less focused on aforementioned 'fucking idiot' now.

"yeah, princess." he murmurs, hand gently running up and down her side. he knows he shouldn't, but he can practically feel the jump of her heart at the endearment. "you like that? princess?" his voice almost has a teasing lilt, and her lids flutter at the difference in tension from 2 minutes ago.

"a little." her face looks so bashful, so unsure. after that depressing feeling of not being wanted - god, he wants to pull her out of that so bad.

"should be treated like a princess." she shifts imperceptibly closer.

"got a guy who'll do that for me?" she teases, and logan scoffs softly.

"you know i do." his voice carries that gruffness even with how quiet he is, speaking into the small space between their lips. "you know, princess."

she breathes out shakily, leaning forward, when logan pulls her chin, pressing his lips to hers. she whimpers softly, finding her hands and placing them at his nape, not wanting to let go. it's not rough, but needy, his other hand slipping to the hem of her dress on her thigh. she hums into his lips, as he pulls away, a little breathless.

"don't - we shouldn't." he whispers, and a pout graces her lips - a proper one.

"why?"

"yer upset." he sighs, but doesn't move away.

"about?" she says playfully, having fully forgotten about her evening; she'd been waiting for this for so long. he lets out a gruff bark of a laugh, pulling her closer, and she adjusts, getting on his lap.

"come on, bub." he scolds again, and she hums, leaning down to kiss him.

"please?" she whispers, against his lips. he groans.

"jesus, what're y'doin' to me?" his head tilts back, and she giggles, exhilarated that she's got him like this. her hands trail down his arms - god, his arms - tracing the veins, somehow always bulging, as she gently leans forward again, kissing him. this time, theres a bit more tongue, and he pulls her closer roughly, gnashing their teeth together. she moans softly into his mouth, fingers finding his rough palm. he grips them tight - not enough to hurt, but just enough to show that he's holding back.

"i'm not made of glass." she teases, and he scoffs softly.

"i could snap ya'n half." his mumble finds his way back into her lips, and she has to control herself to not showhow much the little quip affected her.

"maybe i want you to."

"jesus." he flips her over, onto her back, "got this pretty little dress on, fuck, that guy's an idiot." his hands travel down her thighs, and she bites her lip, a massive grin on her face.

"you like it?" she murmurs softly, playing with the strap of her dress.

"whadya think?" he huffs, and she giggles.

"and if i told you i got it for you?" logan presses a hot kiss to the side of her thigh.

"i'd tell ya to get a dozen more." his lips move up her thigh slowly, and she lets out a shaky breath.

"god, logan." her whispers of his name are like music to his ear, and he leaves a small bite by the hem of her dress.

"gotta tell me if i hurt you." he mutters, more seriously, and she smiles.

"only fun if it hurts."

"i'm serious, princess." she relents.

"i'll tell you." he sighs in content, gently riding her dress off.

"this okay?"

"more than okay." she helps him, pulling the dress over her hips, her lacy panties peeking under the fabric. when he spends just a bit too long staring, she giggles, "you can touch." she affirms, and he barks out a gruff lap.

"could'a guessed that much." his fingers trace the hem of them, travelling down her inner thighs. her breath hitches, and she gently rolls her hips, desperate for more.

"please, logan." she whispers, breathing a bit labored. though he'd love to tease, he's getting desperate too.

"gotta tell me what ya want, princess." he murmurs, and she bites her lip, almost shy again. it's cute.

"touch me?" she murmurs, almost like it's a favor she's asking. he kisses her thigh again, before gently peeling the panties off. he lets out a soft groan at how slick she is, fingers catching her arousal as they travel down her slit. she lets out a shocked gasp - practically a moan - and he fucking loves it.

`'need them, princess?" he smirks at her, and she nods, almost pathetically.

"god, i do." he obliges, gently prodding her entrance with his middle finger. he slips in with little resistance, but jesus, he can feel how tight she is.

"fuck, yer gonna be the death of me, princess." he groans softly, and she lets out a breathy giggle.

"thought that doesn't happen to you?"

"well, never had a girl as pretty as you." he murmurs, slipping another finger in. she flushes, back arching as his fingers do, body warm as she rocks her hips in time with his ministrations.

"faster?" she begs softly, and he could never say no to those big doe eyes. he starts moving faster, her slick absolutely coating his fingers, and she moans louder, hips moving in a more stuttered rhythm.

"like that?" that teasing lilt is in his voice, and she nods furiously.

"j-just like that-" she stammers, mind already foggy, "god, i'm close, please don't stop."

"not in a million years, princess." she lets out a loud moan as she can feel herself unraveling, the orgasm so powerful that her thighs shake around him as she cums. she pants as he helps her ride through it.

"good girl, just like that, princess," he consoles, "so fuckin' pretty for me, ain't cha?" he grins, as she starts to come down. as her breathing slows, so too do his fingers, before slowly sliding them out of her. he gently rubs her clit, just to see her jolt at the stimulation, before chuckling, and placing his soaked fingers onto his tongue.

she lets out another moan as she watches him, with lidded eyes.

"i'll cum again." she warns, playfully, and he's gleeful. she tastes like fruit.

"i plan on it, princess." she feels her cheeks warm.

"that's the hardest i've cum in a while." she admits shyly.

"sounded like it." he teases, but before they can get anything else out, there's banging on the wall that connected them to wade and blind al.

"these walls are paper thin!" al's screech sounds a little traumatized, and her scolding make both her and logan whip around, embarrassed.

"for once in my life, i agree with her! shut up, lovebirds, i wanna fucking sleep!" wade's voice is equally exasperated.

there's silence, until she calls back a bashful, "sorry!" she turns to logan, almost laughing, but still flushed with shame. "maybe we should stop. he scoffs.

"nah, just means i gotta teach ya to be quiet."

safe to say, she's not thinking at all about her date tonight.

[cerridwen007]

I Want You.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 1.8k (18+)

Summary: After spending all of your situationship trying to convince you that you’re the only one he wants, Joel decides to take a different approach to get you to understand.

Inspired by the song “I Want You” by Reignwolf.

Notes/Warnings: SMUT with a touch of Angst, porn with feelings, insecure reader, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, rough sex/foreplay, primal play, creampie, dom Joel, sub reader, biting, choking, swearing, no y/n, fluffy ending.

A/N: Kinda self indulgent but I mean who wouldnt want Joel to fuck the insecurity out of them? Once again I am apologizing for being inactive in writing and posting my fics. I've been a bit burned out with writing and been busy with work and life. So this time I know to not make promises about weekly posts. Instead I'm going to give myself grace and instead try and do at least one fic a month. So some months I might write 3-4 fics and others only one, it honestly will depend on how I'm feeling. But what I will try to do within this next month is finish updating my masterlist with some new, sexy banners and maybe also make a fic rec masterlist for all my favorite works. I will say I have been working on a few wips and am about half way through Corruption of Innocence part 3 and have also come up with another series this time for Joel, so stay tuned for that some time in the future. Thank you as always for any interactions with my posts, it means the world to me.

******

You couldn't actually justify why you did it. You shouldn't have pushed him away. But some part of you couldn't believe that he could love you and only you and that he wouldn't get bored of you and seek pleasure in someone else's bed. In all honesty, you were silly to think that, even being the soft-spoken man Joel was, he still always tried his best in reassuring you that he wanted you. And never did he ever give you any reasons to doubt his loyalty to you. But yet you decided to end your situationship with Joel in fear of getting hurt.

Joel, on the other hand, was first distressed and then annoyed that you pushed him away. He had been spending more of his nights at the Tipsy Bison, drinking away his troubles, trying to forget his feelings for you. He just couldn't seem to understand why you called it quits. You had spent so long dancing around your feelings for each other, and then when you finally did get together, everything was great, the best he had ever felt in a long time. Then it all came crashing down one night when you said that you wanted to stop seeing each other.

You took some convincing to admit the reasoning why. And when you did, he was shocked. Maybe he hadn't been expressing enough of his affection towards you. Maybe he should have told you he loved you already. You were quick to reassure him that it was yourself and not him. To which he scoffed and rolled his eyes at. But you pleaded with him that it was completely you, that you couldn't handle losing him. At first, as much as it hurt him to do so, he respected your wishes, and then one night about a month after your split, something inside of him snapped. He wasn't going to let the best thing in his life go that easily.

You were spending your night at home by yourself like usual, trying to forget Joel in your own way, distracting yourself with a book and a cup of tea. Your heart skipped a beat when it heard fairly loud knocking at your door. The knocking stopped for a second, and you thought about just ignoring it until it started again.

“Alright, I'm coming, jeez. You scoff annoyed, walking to the door before opening it.

Your voice and breath immediately hitch in your throat. Eyes widening as they take in the intimidating, tall figure before you, leaning against your doorframe. You scan over his body, the way his shirt and pants stretch over his wide thighs and shoulders, his eyes brown and soft but filled with something deeper and darker tonight. God, has he gotten even hotter since you last saw him? Your thoughts are interrupted when he coughs to get your attention and speaks.

“Came to talk to ya, sweetheart.” He says darkly.

You move aside and invite him in.

“Oh..yeah come in.” You whisper back.

You can smell the whiskey he likes on his breath as he walks by and the smell that is undoubtedly him, something you missed all so dearly. You take a deep breath, working up the courage to speak before you talk.

“Why are you here, Joel?”

“I think you know why I'm here.” 

You cross your arms and raise your eyebrow.

He speaks through gritted teeth, like an animal baring its fangs, holding back, ready to devour its prey. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know…cause I told you…I told you, I want you.”

“Joel I know, but I…” You whisper.

The words seem to slip away. Your brain can't seem to find proper reasoning as to why you still push him away, yet you still do, as if your body is working on autopilot.

“You know I want you, you're in my head.” His tone softens for a moment as he looks deep into your eyes. Wishing that you would just believe him and give your relationship a chance.

You go to interrupt, but he shuts you up by roughly grabbing your cheeks and jaw in one hand, the slight pain and abrupt motion to make you stop talking and listen. You can't help but let your desire continue to grow. Your middle is dripping from his dominance and assertiveness. You're almost whimpering at his touch.

“Joel.” You manage to mumble out, the last of your denying uttered in that one word.

He tightens his grip ever so slightly and lowers his head closer to yours, his lip curled.

“Well I'm telling you. I want you…..I get the feeling that you just don't understand, I'm crying, wolf, and I'll always be your man.” he growls.

The tension is thick in the air. Joel never failed to make you wet at the sight of him, but this was something else, a primal need to feast on each other's mouths and flesh like you won’t have the chance to again.

The point of tension breaks and your mouths attach to each other like magnets drawn together. The kisses are  filled with desire, lust, and want, but also with ‘I missed you’s’, don’t let me go again’s, and love. Teeth are clashing, lips smashing, hands flying about, trying to grab onto each other and hold them close in any way they can. 

Joel pushes you against the wall harshly, pulling you up so your legs wrap around his waist. You moan into his mouth, feeling his craving for your body, nestled against your clothed middle. His desire to be gentle and take his time is long gone out the window as he feverishly explores your body, ripping away any clothing that stands in his way of touching and tasting your bare skin. He marks all along your body, your neck, jaw, and collarbones, anywhere he can reach, claiming you for his own. 

His hands reach up behind your back and pull your hair firmly, giving him move access to attack your flesh with bite and hickey’s. You find yourself a grinning and whimpering mess under him. He growls into your breasts after ripping away your shirt and bra like a wild wolf, warning others not to touch his meal. He finally pulls you both off the wall and quickly walks to your bed and throws you down. Not wanting to waste a moment, he pulls your pants and panties off swiftly. He groans as he gets on his knees and takes in the scent of your arousal. 

“God I missed you and this sweet pussy, sweetheart.”

Before you can respond his hands wrapped around your thighs are pulling you to his mouth, he makes quick work of you, his tongue licking every inch of you, switching between, fucking into you pulsating hole and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. It feels so good, yet you can’t help but squirm around only to be pinned down by Joel's forearm, keeping his meal still for him. 

Your hand reaches down into his graying locks as Joel undoes you with his skilled tongue. Your first orgasm comes quickly. He groans deeply at the sweet taste gracing his taste buds, but he doesn’t stop or slow down. Instead he speeds up his actions and begins thrusting two fingers into your drenched cunt and curling them to reach that spot that makes your toes curl and eyes roll back. The pathetically beautiful sounds coming from your mouth do nothing but egg him to continue, urging you to your second orgasm of the night in mere minutes. Two fingers become three that mercilessly fuck into your tight hole.

“Cum for me.” Joel quietly groans in your cunt. 

Taking his words as a stern order, you let go, drenching his face with your second release of the night. He is grinning ear to ear as he drinks up every bit of your sweetness, your hands grip the sheets tightly, cunt verging on overstimulation. He finally lets up when he feels satisfied and crawls back up to give yourself a taste of your own pleasure from his tongue. He groans deeply as you begin pulling him down on top of you and arching your back up into him, insinuating you want more, need to feel him inside you. He chuckles darkly and reaches down between you to tease your folds with the tip of his cock. 

He keeps teasing despite your whines for him to put it in already. 

“Please….Please Joel.” You whine quietly.

He grins devilishly. “Begging me to fuck you sweetheart, Need it that bad, don’t you honey?”

You nod your head in response, but Joel doesn't like that answer. He grips your throat lightly and speaks through gritted teeth.

“Use your words baby.” he growls.

“Y-Yes, need it so bad Joel.”

“Atta girl.”

He quickly thrusts his whole length into your quivering hole, making you gasp out. He lets you adjust to his size for a few seconds before slowly yet brutally dragging his length almost all the way out before slamming it back into your tight cunt again.

You unconsciously bring your fist up to your mouth and bite into, so overwhelmed with the deliciously brutal pleasure you were feeling.Before you could have even comprehended, he flips you over and brings your ass up to his cock, slamming into your hip mercilessly. Your eyes rolled back into your head, he holds the back of your neck down as he pounded into you. Your hands find purchase in the sheets, gripping them tightly. He lowers himself so his front is flush with your back, and the new angle hits even deeper inside you, urging you to the precipice of climax. 

“All mine, This pretty cunt is all mine.” Joel snarled into your ear, biting your ear lobe.

“F-f-fuck yes, only yours, Joel.”

“That’s my girl.” He praises you, before reaching around to rub your clit, sending you over the edge.

“Shit! Joel!” You whine as your high comes crashing down.

His thrusts never stuttered as he worked you through your high and chased his own. Joel roughly grabbed your hips as he creamed inside of you, a final step in marking his territory.

You both collapsed on the bed, Joel’s full weight comforting as you caught your breaths. A comfortable silence blanketed the room, which only moments ago was filled with obscene noises.

“I love you.” he whispered.

Your eyes opened wide in surprise at his remark, the first ever time he has ever said those three words to you. You turn your head to try and look at him better. You see his eyes have returned a closer shade to their normal deep brown, his pupils blown wide. You can’t help but smile at his softness, a stark contrast to him behavior only moments ago. Nevertheless, you loved every bit of Joel you could get.

“I love you too.” You whisper before placing a gentle, lingering kiss on his lips.

You couldn't be certain of what was the future for you and Joel, but you knew right now there is no place you rather be than snuggling with your person.

********

[orbitswritings]

human!jake sully/fem!human reader Neteyam fic is still in works, I just wanted to take a break and push myself to quickly write something in a few hours without worrying about beta readers. so here’s something really self-indulgent that i had kicking around in my brain. let me know if i should continue (i mean i do want to i just like hearing other people say it) synopsis: reader works as a pencil pusher for the RDA and finds herself in a relationship with human!Jake Sully. Their relationship is on the rocks when Jake suddenly becomes a traitor for the Na’vi, forgetting about reader. unfortunately, she’s left in a position where she cannot forget about him.

(feat. Jake the dog and reader the human) c/w warning: blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smut. and jake’s kinda an asshole for now

The last time you saw Jake was right before he turned traitor.

His visits with you were already getting more and more spared, spaced out as the months went on. In the beginning of his deployment to Pandora you two were nearly inseparable, literally, wrapped in a tangled mess of blankets in your private quarters.

You were just a pencil-pusher and file manager, tasked with handling the never-ending information and data from several departments of the RDA. One day when delivering a stack of legal papers to the lead scientist Grace, the man seated in a wheelchair next to her, named Jake Sully, took an immediate interest. You did as well, although yours was more based on wanting to know why a buff marine guy in a wheelchair was doing around the other nerdy scientists. Jake’s was more coming from below the belt.

One night while laying in bed together after a session of sex, your hand aimlessly began running up and down his arms. His biceps used to be the size of your head, now he looked frail, malnourished. His body was practically wasting away. Jake now had been at least two months into his whole Na’vi thing. Yet you didn’t know any details since he was pretty tight-lipped about it all.

“Are you getting enough rest? Do you eat enough?” You asked with concern, stroking the hair out of his sweaty face. Jake had initially arrived on Pandora with the traditional military buzzcut, but now his hair had grown out, further adding to his ragged, disheveled appearance. “If not, I can write up a document for the food storage guys to give mor-” Jake just shrugged you off, turning away from you with a grunt of “mh fine.”

You’d later realize Jake was just using you to empty out all the cum and sexual frustration he would build up while gone. Word among the staff was the female Na’vi he’d been frolicking around with over the course of the few months was proving to be a tease. Unable to stomach thinking about what he was getting up to, you instead threw yourself into your work, trying to ignore the horrendous thoughts that clouded your mind.

You wish you had the guts to confront him on what would ultimately end up being your last night together, but you were just too lonely and so happy to see him after such a long time apart that you kept your mouth shut and legs open. All to just save the moment. Next time, though, you told yourself you would confront him.

That next time never came. In that time Jake Sully and his crew knocked over the chess board, turned traitor and proceeded to fuck over everyone. The plug on the whole operation was pulled, sending everyone packing onto their ships. Well, everyone except a few of his other human allies . . . . and you.

Not that he specifically asked for you to stay on Pandora. In fact you were sure he never even gave you a thought. What happened was when all the humans were being rounded up, you managed to slip off, going into hiding. There was a small, abandoned outpost, its existence having falling out of everyone else’s minds except yours, only being known by you due to your various dealings with files. It was similar to the one Jake and his gang had been stationed to in the Himalayan mountains, difference being luck for you it was within a day of hiking distance. There, you had everything you needed (for the time being). Filtered air, canned foods, jugs of water.

But why not go with the other humans? Being put into a tube of jelly for another five years and sent back to a dying planet with your sizable paycheck waiting for you in the mail was still miles better than sitting alone in some rundown old trailer on an alien planet where everything and anything can and will kill you, all the while slowly picking away at your limited rations.

It was simple. You weren’t alone, and your growing waistline was ever so slowly revealing it. Apparently the very last time you and Jake saw each other he was kind enough to leave you with a little going away gift, entirely unbeknownst to the either of you. The cheap condoms the company supplied did have an expiration date wasn’t to be taken lightly, but Jake had been out playing Na’vi for so long he completely forgot to grab new ones.

It was a hard rule that babies couldn’t be put in cryo, and being pregnant while in cryo lacked a lot of research for any factual statements but generally it was advised to avoid it. At that point you weren’t far along at all so either you were going to be tubed, putting both you and your baby at risk, or be forced to terminate.

Of course Jake couldn’t help you. He was too busy playing blue outlaw cowboy, rounding up the remaining RDA humans to ship them back to Earth.

But now, supplies were running low, and you knew this whole ‘pregnant while solo’ thing wasn’t going to be able to last much longer. Carrying was already hard enough. Giving birth alone was more of a horror movie plot than something you actually wanted to try out for yourself. So, you made the decision to finally bite the bullet, hook up the radio, and put out a signal to the other remaining scientists.

That same night you got a response back, the scientists on the other end both very surprised that another human was still on Pandora. They already knew you and so conclude you weren’t a die-hard RDA fan, making you not a threat to their operation. In the end, a helicopter was sent your way.

You were so grateful and relieved they agreed to come get you, you just wished they had told you Norm was going to be in his avatar form when picking you up. You nearly pissed your pants from the shock and blood-chilling fear that coursed through you when a gigantic blue alien suddenly appeared, peeking through your window.

The bump of your stomach acted as an elephant in the room, everyone on the helicopter doing their best to avoid looking directly at it as if doing so would cause permanent vision damage.

It wasn’t like they knew it was Jake’s, believing you two had ended your little fling long before the possible frame of conception, so that awkward topic was luckily avoided. Of course not all hard topics were off limits. They still asked you why you were here on Pandora, the unsubtle hint being they thought they had successfully chased out all the other dirty greedy humans from their prized forest playground. You were honest and gave them your reasoning, hoping it would squash any fears of other RDA agents lurking out there. They nodded in quiet understanding. You wanted to ask about Jake, how he was, but the fear of it possibly raising any sort of questions made you bite your tongue.

[pedrito-friskito]

Congratulations again Kay! I just adore your writing and I’m sending you all the hugs and love! ❤️❤️❤️

So I’m invading your inbox to request smut prompts…

29. You’re safe with me, my love. You know I’d never hurt you.

44. I’m going to mark all the parts I love to show you how beautiful you are.

With the one and only Frankie Morales, it’s been a minute and I just love Frankie so much ❤️

Please and thank you 💕💕💕

ericca sweet angel!! yes please frankie oh my god you love frankie, I love frankie, everybody loves frankie 💕

this was a little self indulgent but I hope you enjoy 😏

🔥friday night fever!🔥

Sometimes living in your own head is a nightmare.

Frankie Morales knows that better than most. His nights are filled with tossing and turning, rarely getting more than the four hours he’s trained himself to survive on. He’s tried everything, sleeping pills and drinking himself into a stupor, smoking enough weed to think he’s living on another planet or just staying up until his body gives out, but none of it works.

You, however, have managed to change everything.

He’s never slept as soundly as he does by your side, his body wrapped around yours, nose pressed into your hair and palms shaped to the curve of your skin. Maybe it’s the thrum of your heart, a steady rhythm he can fall asleep to, or just the feel of you against him. He can’t put his finger on it, but it’s made everything better, made it easier for him to get some shut-eye.

But you, just like him, are only human, and while you may not have been overseas, or seen the hell that Frankie has, you have your own battles, and Frankie takes them in stride, same as you do with him. That’s why it works, why you two help each other more than any relationship either of you has ever had before. It’s fate, maybe, divine intervention, Frankie doesn’t know for certain. But he knows that you love him, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he loves you.

And he knows you don’t mean to wake him.

It was a few months before he even realized what was happening. He was so wrapped up in the fact that you made him feel like he could breathe again that it took a while, but now he knows that sometimes, the anxiety that likes to set up shop in your brain some days can keep you up while he sleeps. You’re careful about it, always slipping out of bed so stealthily that it takes him a while to realize you’re gone, finding you sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea in your hands. Or other nights, you don’t make it out of bed, instead perching yourself at the edge of the mattress and just trying to breathe through the attack.

Tonight, it seems, is something else entirely.

You’re still in the bed, still in his arms, but you’re shaking. Instantly, he’s worried. Are you sick? What’s going on? Gently, he rolls you onto your back, pushing the messy hair from your face and smoothing his fingers over your cheek. Your teeth are chattering, shoulders rattling, and Frankie’s whole body is on red alert.

“Babe,” he murmurs softly, trying to rouse you as easily as possible. The soft tone in his voice doesn’t seem to do much, however, because you’re up like a shot, gasping loudly and your eyes going wide. Instantly, he sees the tears on your face, the sharp rise and fall of your chest, and you’re pushing at his hands, scrambling across the bed from him. “Hey!” he calls, voice still soft as possible. “Baby, it’s okay. You were having a nightmare.”

Your breathing is still heavy, but he hears it start to slow as he talks, so he keeps going.

“Come here, babe,” he murmurs, opening his arms wide, waiting for you to make the move. When you start to shuffle towards him, crawling into his grip, he pulls you close. “You’re safe with me, my love. You know I’d never hurt you. You’re safe here, always.”

You nod into his collar, and Frankie can feel the wet drips on his skin, but he pays them no mind. “I know, it just…” You grab hold of him, hands diving into his hair, holding him as tight as possible. He lets out a low oomph, but he doesn’t mind. “It felt so real, and I…” You trail off, shaking your head against him.

Frankie leans you backwards until you’re laid out on the mattress and adjusts himself beside you, propped up on his elbow. He goes slow, letting you track his movements as he makes them, carefully wiping the tears from your cheeks, running his fingers through your hair, trailing his palm up and down your bicep. He waits for your breathing to steady, for your eyes to drip closed, your hand lifting and pressing to the middle of his chest. 

When he pauses his movements to reach for the blankets, you whimper. “I’m right here, baby,” he reassures you. “I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what you need.”

Your voice is thick when you open your mouth. “Could you…distract me?”

Frankie’s brow raises as you reach for the hand that’s still moving up and down your arm, curling your fingers around his wrist and pulling it lower. He lets his fingers graze your skin as you pull him where you want, until his fingertips are sliding against the silky skin of your inner thighs. His whole body heats up when he feels how warm you are.

“Baby,” he drawls, leaning his head down to kiss your temple softly. “Are you sure?”

You nod, eyes opening and his throat goes dry at the heat in your gaze, the fear replaced with something else. “I’m sure. You always make me feel better, Frankie, make me feel beautiful.”

“You are beautiful,” he answers, and pushes himself up on his hands, leaning over you, knocking your knees wide with one of his own and settling between them. “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” He lowers himself slowly, kissing the centre of your chest and then dragging his mouth up, over the curve of your chin until his lips catch on yours. “I’m going to mark all the parts I love to show you how beautiful you are. You understand?”

You make a little squeak of agreement, tossing your head back so he has better access to your skin. He feels your hands on his sides, skimming up his ribs, and your nails dig in as he drags his mouth to your neck, sucking a mark into your pulse. Then he moves lower, your grip moving to his shoulders, and your gasps are music to his ears as he leaves tiny bruises along the underside of your breast, another along the slope of your ribs, and more along the curve of your hip. Your skin is velvet beneath his tongue, and he hums in approval when goosebumps rise on your flesh, back arching into him when he pushes his face between your legs and leaves a bruise right where you’re the most sensitive.

Well, almost the most sensitive.

His eyes flicker up to your face as he moves to that perfect little bud between your legs, sucking it between his lips, hands curling around your widening thighs. You let out a moan that makes him rut into the bed, eyes still glued to your face. He can see the fear and anxiety the nightmare had given you melting away, your every worry replaced with a blissful expression as he licks into you. He keeps you as close to him as he can, drinking you down, helping you find that peak, watching your face as you unravel.

And once you do, he moves back up your body, revisiting the marks he left on the way down, sealing them into your skin.

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing the hollow of your throat. “So much.”

“I love you too, Frankie,” you reply, your voice dreamy and faraway, sleepy and sated. He smiles to himself.

Whatever you need, he’ll do it. Whatever it takes.

—————

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frankie morales tags: @steadyasthe-flowers @iamskyereads @ancientbeing10 @woomen23 @plutoneu @pedropascalsx @allfoolsinluv @williamjzanders @winchestershiresauce @lunarpenumbra @bluestuesday @i-simp-much @itspdameronthings @trickstersp8 @kirsteng42 @lovesbiggerthanpride @beskarprincessjenny @loonymagizoologist @trinkets01 @mashomasho @greeneyedblondie44 @tanzthompson @fiscinthirst @mswarriorbabe80 @vickytogisa @dead-pool-simp @ruhro7 @thevoiceinyourheadx @littlemisspascal @mrssarahpaulsooonn @allthe-ships @fictionismyreality @mrsparknuts @arson-tm @december16-1991 @maggotzombie @pastafossa @boliv-jenta @m00nkn1ghts @iccedays @detectivecarisi-1

[rekas-writes]

Blurring Happiness

Pair: Modern + A/B/O AU! Alpha! Yuri Leclerc/M! Omega! Reader Source: Fire Emblem: Three Houses/Fire Emblem: Three Hopes

Type: Drabble - 899 words Genre: Semi-Graphic Smut/NSFT(W)/18+, Angst, Hurt/No Comfort Perspective: Second-Person (You/Your)

Summary: Yuri is the water the quenches the flames and the fan that stokes them ever higher. Or: Suppressed romantic feelings start to catch up as this friends with benefits situation dips into a bittersweet aftertaste

TW: None

Kinks: A/B/O or Omegaverse

Terms Used for Reader: Cock, Hole

A/N: Decided to convert one of the fics I made during my month without Wi-Fi into a reader-insert! This is rather self-indulgent since ABO is a massive weakness for me- It's a little short since I don't like writing long pieces on my phone, but I thought some folks might like it! I also think it's a travesty I haven't written anything for FE:3H at all on this blog, so here's a Yuri fic because I think he's neat! I'm also spiralling into my Fire Emblem hyperfixation again since I bought Three Hopes recently. I know I'm late- ;-;

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

It’s a blur, simply put.

This whole, strange relationship is a blur.

It’s touches on skin at night, only ever at night- when the Goddess could not see beyond the thick fog, with only mist-filtered moonlight faintly lighting patches of hair and wrinkled clothes. The reflections dance upon exposed skin and floats high on breathy calls and sighs. The highs sing like angels in the dim of night, and those tingly, pleasant feelings bloom like delicate flowers upon your sullied flesh. 'Heavenly', you think vaguely to yourself, before the guilt and scorn of feeling unworthy settles in the afterglow.

It’s hot and cold. Unrelenting heat boils beneath your skin and sighs like steam at his touch, and for just a moment- you're complete. Like the final stroke of a brush against a littered canvas. Entangled as one, it feels like sweet relief that calms the burning inferno inside for just a few minutes. The kettle cools and it’s like the sip of fresh lemonade on a summer’s day, and you're parched beyond belief... But all too soon that euphoria slips away and it’s so hot- too hot again. There’s an aching itch that burns like an addiction, and no matter how much you scratch- it never stops. There is no respite. This heat, this supposed "cycle", only sleeps for what feels like a few minutes. There is no cycle, only a merciless craving that digs its cursed fangs deep into your biology.

It’s a deep-set ache. When you roll to your side, Yuri is gone. Like the whispers of the wind, he’s temporary and loose like grains of sand. A fleeting pleasure, like the haze of a debauched party you can't remember anymore. The only "mark" of his presence is the phantom touches upon your skin. The sickening warmth pooling already in your gut once again that yearns for more, but just a little quieter than usual. When you breath in hard, like the shaky exhale before a sob, you regret it. It reeks of your antidote. Your medicine. An Alpha. It smells like him. Instead, you take a shallower breath; one that strains to calm the throbbing in your chest.

That relief seldom stays, yet the relationship remains all the same.

You would be a fool not to know this wasn't good for you anymore. That this was hurting you. You don't know how much longer you can last, staring into soft, purple eyes that remain guarded even in such a vulnerable position. It's so hollow. That smile. Those sweet nothings. The gentle touch caressing down your body with the mannerism of a lover, but the method of a stranger. It's so painfully empty.

But when Yuri rolls his hips, those thoughts fuzz and blur. Your brain can't think straight when he touches you with such precision and practiced ease that almost made your chest hurt- if you tried to think about it too hard. Stirring up your insides only numbs your head more, body arching into Yuri’s as his tongue laps at yours. It tastes so sweet to be consumed by him, as you lick desperately at his lip to get him to do it again. To consume the rest of your thoughts and drag you further into the abyss. There's this satisfying ache that heat suppressants can’t provide. That being alone can't provide.

In the grand scheme of things, who were you to ask for more in this? You are an omega. Yuri is an alpha. It was only natural you would feel drawn to him. Those desperate, intrusive feelings- that unerring need to be loved by him- they're nothing more than the cruel urge to be fucked until you couldn't think anymore. He didn't even need to help you, but he does. That... That's good enough.

It’s lonely. It’s scary. It’s feverishly cold. It’s bitingly hot.

You curl into yourself, panting beneath the covers as you call a name you don't quite realise you did. You don't know why you did it when it finally registers. As a new presence paces quickly across your room's floor, you can only cry for that name again- borderline pain flickering through your heightened nerves.

Lavender. It smells like lavender and honeyed fruit; it's overwhelming yet comforting. It spins your head pleasantly, in a way that makes you whimper that name again. More slick runs down your leg as arousal spikes deep in your core despite your confusion. Your hand reaches below your waistband, needing to feel something now you decide, as you paw at your already hard cock and slide your hand down to feel the wet trails running down your thighs.

Ah…

You need him again.

When that blur of purple embraces you again, those loud, frightening, confusing feelings dampen. You can ignore your problems as you cling on to him- pulling him as close as possible, listening only to the sound of Yuri mumbling your name. Hands gently push your own away, electrifying your senses as he thumbs at your tip. Simmering in his touch, you gasp and groan when he spreads your hole open with long, dextrous fingers- delicate yet teasing. It’s so easy to lose yourself when he looks at you so kindly like that. When he talks to you so sweetly like that. When he holds you so tenderly like that. Even if it's all fake, in the maddening pit of engulfing heat and heady lust, it’s so easy to pretend that even for just a moment…

You are his.

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

Warnings: Smut 18+ thigh riding, fingering, oral, daddy kink, plot to make up for my first attempt at writing smut.

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter One

“Fucking hell.” You sighed as you looked at the still tall stack of essays that needed grading. “I’m never getting through this.”

Your stomach grumbled, signaling it was time for a break. Stretching, the quiet was interrupted by the sound of your bone’s protest from sitting in one position for hours. It was nights like these you had regretted your choices. Sure you had known Professor Jacob loved to torture his students with too much work, but when you took the job as his assistant you assumed that he’d shoulder some of the weight. A ridiculous thought now that you’ve experienced working with him. Why should he even think of grading an assignment when he had a perfect little lackey doing it for him? That was a non question. He had been strict about the work not leaving his office, which meant you had accidentally fallen asleep in his office more than often than you would have liked. The pile of work never seemed to diminish. 

Walking out the office, you thought briefly of the joy you would feel when you’d never have to see it again. These long corridors would be a thing of the past in just a few, short months. Then you’d probably go to the city and struggle for a while but at least you would be free from here. As much as you prided yourself for getting through the first round of college, the walls of the building gave you more of an annoyed feeling than anything. 

Pushing open the door to the teachers lounge, you made a beeline for the fridge. The leftover pizza already seemed like a feast until you noticed it was nowhere to be seen. “Hannibal,” you whined to the empty room as you closed the fridge. 

“Yes, darling?” 

You startled, immediately turning around to face him, a mischievous smile was plastered on his lips. Usually your missing dinner meant to head over to his office. It wasn’t typical, but the two of you had managed a comfortable friendship between the shared late nights. Though, you suspected he’d stay longer than necessary to accompany you in the empty building. “Would you mind telling me where my dinner went, handsome?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“Old pizza can hardly be considered dinner. Come,” he motioned to sit next to him at the table, “I’ve got a better meal prepared for you nonetheless.”

“Or maybe you just need to learn to appreciate the simple things,” you quipped as you took your seat.

“And you, the finer.”

You gave him an obvious look over, “I’d say I appreciate you plenty enough.” 

Being so forward wasn’t usually in your cards. However Hannibal had always been a gentleman and it had been fun to tease at him a bit. He never complained, often just acknowledging what you said with a raised brow or chuckle. Still there was always some truth in jokes and you’d be lying to say that he was anything less than tempting. Especially in the dark grey suit and dried blood red shirt of his. ‘No’ wouldn’t come to mind if he ever offered.

“Naughty, Miss LN,” he chided you, “What shall we do with you?”

“What do you want to do with me?”

“Eat your dinner,” he said, humor in his voice as he shook his head.

You choked back a comment about him just wanting to see your mouth stuffed, deciding it was too much of a push. Instead you just opened the lunchbox he placed in front of you. Hannibal watched you expectantly as you took a bite of the meat.

Closing your eyes, you savored the bite. It had been a while since you had something home cooked. “Han... I’m going to miss you most. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. Delicious, as always.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He went back to work on his own stack of papers as you ate. “Though, I’m not sure I’m ready to allow you to live off street food once we part.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find me another man that insists on throwing away my perfectly good food to serve me home cooked meals.”

Hannibal left some remarks on a paper before pushing it to the side. “You could always come learn a few things. Maybe I’ll rest better knowing you know how to make yourself a couple of decent meals. Any guesses for the meat?”

It was a strange guessing game, but you indulged him, he was just eccentric. “Oh, definitely human,” you teased, making sure to pick up some spinach and artichoke in the next bite, “Probably had a boring name like David.”

“Close. It was Richard,” he corrected. 

“Beef, it was the Rolex of all farm animals hand picked by you and I’m very grateful you shared some with me,” you smiled at him, “So how are things going with Baltimore?”

“I’ve found a beautiful home. The office, however, seems to be harder to find.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the perfect one.” Your phone started ringing. Grabbing it from your pocket, you looked at the screen. Mom. “They’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” you sighed to yourself. 

Hannibal looked at you with peaked interest as you shut off your phone and pushed it away. “Is something troubling you?”

“My parents aren’t taking too kindly to the no contact rule. It’s the tenth call today.”

“You’ve cut them off?”

“I thought about what you had said,” you shrugged, “I’m tired of always having to get them out of troubles and be their ATM when I don’t have enough for myself. It’s just too much on me right now. Between school assignments, Jacob’s work pile, and my other part time, it’s all just suffocating. They keep trying to use my grandfather’s death as a leverage to make me feel bad about not talking to them now, but they just want some money. I don’t want to feel guilty about this but I can’t help it.”

“Don’t,” he placed his hand over yours, “You deserve to feel taken care of and appreciated. They aren’t providing you with that now. Especially now when they use the death of the person who raised you as leverage,” he shook his head, making a disgusted sound, “It’s for your own well-being that you take some time to breathe and be young. They provide too much stress…” Hannibal fell silent. “I’ve suggested this before but i-“

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “I’m not taking your money. We’re friends. Money complicates things. Muddies the waters.”

“Friends help each other,” he reminded you, “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t want any payment.”

“But I’d still feel like I owe you.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t feel right to me. I’m fine. I promise. Though, if you’re so willing to help me with something, I wouldn’t say no to those cooking lessons. They could be fun.”

He spared you a smile, “It would be my pleasure to teach you what I know.”

“And I’d never deny your pleasure,” your mouth spoke before you could think about it, “Sorry.”

“I don’t deny myself pleasure either,” he said, amused. “You’re fine. Now, how about we meet on Sunday? I’ll have time to figure out a full meal and gather all of the ingredients.”

“Great!” You ignored the heat that still lingered on your face, “I- um, do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nothing at all, I’ll make sure to take care of everything. All you need to do, sweet girl, is bring yourself and an appetite.”

You stifled a pleased smile at the term of affection. “I’ll make sure to do that,” sparing a glance to the clock, you frowned, “I should probably get back to work on those essays.”

“Why don’t we work on them together?” He suggested. “My colleague is notorious for drowning you in his work. I can help you sort through it all and you can have a restful Saturday without Micheal’s added stress.”

“I really can’t ask that of you. You already have enough work as it is.”

“We’ll work together. First your work, then mine. What happened to never denying my pleasure?” 

Your eyes widened, but you laughed all the same. Maybe a while more in his company wouldn’t be so bad. “Fine. Hold me to my words, but it’s only going to cause you a headache. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. These new kids are… something else.”

“They’re nothing,” he stood, grabbing his papers in one hand, “Meet me in my office. We can be more comfortable there and I may have stowed away a bottle of wine.”

“What would I do without you Doctor Lecter?”

-

“You have arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice informed you as you parked.

You took in the mansion of a home. It was too big for someone that lived alone. The thought made you shiver. Homes should be filled with life, not empty space. Then again, he was a fan of dinner parties, extravagant ones at that, so you supposed there was life in those walls on occasion. The home itself reminded you of the houses in old movies. Ones where the lightning would strike at just the right moment as a warning to stay away. But this was real life and there was no lightning, just a sun setting on a near perfect day. 

Without a warning telling you to keep away, you grabbed the gift bag and stepped out of your car. He had said to bring nothing, but you couldn’t resist a simple gift. The ties in the bag had taken out a decent chunk from your pocket, but he deserved them. Between agreeing to give you cooking lessons and helping you out with grading every so often, the simple pieces of fabric meant nothing. Besides, it was a two way gift, he’d get more of the patterned ties he was fond of and you’d get to see him in the darker colors you liked on him, knowing he’d feel compelled to wear them to show you his gratitude.

Knocking on the door, you waited a couple of minutes before he emerged. “YN, just in time. Please, come in,” he stepped to the side, “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”

You smiled and stepped past him. “I have too. Entertained myself a bit today by finding you a gift.” 

“Darling, you shouldn’t have.”

Nervousness bit at you slightly, a bit self conscious they’d be too cheap for his taste. Too late to back out of it, you handed over the bag. “You’ve always been so kind and I really appreciate everything. Let me do something for you.”

He set the bag on the nearby table, laying out the ties to get a better look at them.  “They’re all lovely,” he ran a finger across the fabric of a maroon one, “Fond of me in darker colors, YN?”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “We catch ourselves spending a lot of time together. Why not make you a decent piece of eye candy?”

“Inappropriate,” he chided you, before signaling you to follow after him.

“You just wear them so well, Doctor Lecter.”

Shrugging off his navy suit coat, he draped it over a chair, making quick work of rolling up his sleeves. “Ready to get your hands dirty, my little sous-chef?”

“What are we making?” You asked, looking at his kitchen wide eyed. It was definitely bigger than your measly studio apartment. 

“Frisee aux lardons, duck with a pomegranate-citrus glaze. I took the liberty of preparing a blood orange sorbet for dessert.”

“I have a proposal.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t do any of that and just have dessert for dinner.”

“No,” he gave you an amused glance, “There’s more pleasure in waiting for things. Why don’t you start washing up the vegetables and I’ll start preparing the duck?”

You stuck your tongue out at his back but set to your work. “This is what I get for befriending a charming old guy.”

“Keep going the way you are and our next meal together will be langue d’Agneau en papillote.”

“That can’t be a threat if I don’t know what that means,” you quipped, setting aside an endive. 

“It means, darling,” he pointed his knife at you, “The fondness I feel for you is an inconvenience. Nonetheless, it’s welcomed.”

You smiled at him brightly, as you brought the washed vegetables over to him. “I’m fond of you too, but you gotta stop flirting and teach me how we’re gonna cook Daffy here.”

He motioned for you to grab a cutting board and a knife of your own. The two of you worked in quiet harmony, occasionally he’d tell you exactly why he was doing something a certain way or just give you simple instructions and let you have a hands on feel of exactly how to prepare something. It was nice to see him in his element. Hannibal seemed much more content in his kitchen than any where you had seen him at the college. Eventually he set his work to the side and washed his hands. 

“You’re cutting them too thick. Thinner is better for this dish.” He stepped behind you, “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.” You attempted to move to the side, but Hannibal had already caged you in between himself and the counter. His cologne was different from the one you were accustomed to him wearing, but the subtle spice of it gave a more homey feeling to him. 

Hannibal grabbed your hand that had yet to  let go of the knife. He made sure to show you how to cut them the right thickness. “See? A little thing can unbalance everything.”

“Hm,” you hummed, catching yourself relaxed against the man, his frame strong against yours, “I don’t see much of a difference. Pretty sure this is just your variation of a putter.”

“You assume I have hidden motives,” He acknowledged, looking down at you, “And if there were any?”

Taking the bait, you pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “I wouldn’t be too upset.”

His head dipped into your shoulder, taking in a breath. “What happened to not wanting to bring on complications in our friendship?”

“We only have weeks left with each other,” you shrugged, “There wouldn’t be any complications. Not really.”

“We really should get back to making our dinner, darling,” he sighed, almost seeming reluctant to pull away, “What else did you did you do today?””

It took you a second to respond, still shaking off the embarrassment. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do that. When you looked up at him you grimaced. Grabbing a napkin, you carefully wiped away the lingering lipstick. “The ties were the more interesting part of the day, I didn’t plan anything eventful. Honestly most of my day was taken with trying to recall the shop you mentioned that carried the ones you liked.”

He hummed in appreciation, “You also managed to pick out two I have had my eye on. I’ve got new suits coming in soon that will pair perfectly.”

You beamed at that, happy he did actually like what you had chosen. “Lucky guess. It was difficult remembering the ones I had seen you wear.”

Hannibal made to grab some ingredients and set them on the counter near the stove. “Have your parents tried calling you this weekend?”

You sighed, sure you didn’t have to tell him the truth but you wanted to, he had a compelling thing to him that made it easy to just speak. “I sent them money for rent. Which was honestly the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.”

“It wasn’t idiotic,” he stated, setting to work on making the pomegranate sauce as you watched, “They’re you’re parents. It’s only natural you worry about them. Though, I do worry they’ll think of you as a person that doesn’t stick to her word.”

“I know, I really meant to, but the thought of them out on the street. It’s not my responsibility, but I’m just so used to being their adult.”

“It’s difficult to detransition. You worry for them as they should worry for you.”  He checked over a pan he had been heating, “That’s perfect. If you could please..” Grabbing the plate with the duck you set them on the pan. “With duck it’s important to render off the fat. A low heat is necessary.”

You nodded, “Low and slow, got it... You know, I’m not sure they worry about me at all. I mean- I know they don’t. It should hurt, but it’s just a fact of life.”

“They didn’t give you an opportunity to be a child. When you were supposed to be in the most carefree moments of your life, they burdened you with the responsibilities of an adult.” He held out a spoon with some of the pomegranate sauce for you to taste. “Any pain the notion inflicted on you has been killed with time.”

“There are still moments though. Suppose that’s common enough, isn’t it Doc?” You leaned in, allowing him to feed you, “That tastes amazing. I really should have paid attention.”

“It’s simple, I’ll write it out for you later.” Casting the sauce aside, he set a pot of water to boil. “Very common. We aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to how quickly we had to grow up. Very different reasons, but the fall out isn’t much different. Our paths left us in places where we’re very much alone.”

“What happened?” You asked, realizing that he had known a great deal of your family and you had known nothing more past how his day had gone or his preference of coffee. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t.” Hannibal went to fill two glasses with wine. “I was very young when my parents died. My father had implemented in me that, if anything were to happen, I was to take care of my mother and sister. Which meant I had grown fiercely protective of Mischa when the time came. Soon I was acting more as her father than a brother.”

“Where’s Mischa now?” You asked, knowing at the very least she had to be in her late twenties.

His lips set into a frown, he took a quick drink. “Lost her sometime after. There was a lapse of judgement on my part and she suffered because of it. My days have often been shrouded by the thought that I could have done better by her. The ways I failed burdens me significantly.”

You rubbed his arm sympathetically. “I couldn’t even begin to imagine that pain.”

“It’s something I never wish to experience again. Losing someone you love so dearly, it changes a person.”

“I’m sure you tried your best. You’re a good man. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that when you were so young.”

“You think too highly of me,” he patted your hand on his arm, “Far better than I deserve. Still if my childhood had taught me anything, it’s to value those I hold dear. Such as yourself.” 

“I’m glad we found each other. Even if it is for a short while.” You watched as he stepped back into the rhythm of cooking. Maybe you weren’t any help to him but watching him work was comforting. 

He raised a brow, “Just because the amount of time we physically see each other will diminish, doesn’t mean we need to completely break apart. I’d like to have you at my dinner table later in life.”

“I’d like it if we kept in touch,” you replied, looking at a small box on the counter. The small black beads glimmered in the light, calling at you to take a peek. A neat row of recipe cards in his impeccable penmanship, numbered as high as 120 but there could have been more. “That’s sweet,” you mused, looking at the back of a card, noticing a couple had business cards on them, “You keep track of your friends’ favorites like this?”

“Friends, acquaintances, business partners. It’s difficult remembering everyone’s preferences. When I have dinner parties I like to make sure there’s a bit of something for everyone.”

“Hm, well I’m sorry I don’t have a card for you to have.”

When everything was said and done, you helped Hannibal set up the plates to have dinner. The conversation became light as you laughed along to the better memories of Mischa. From his smile it was easy to see he adored the usually shy girl. You never pressed on to find out how she died, simply choosing to bask in his soft smiles and laughter instead of entertaining curiosity. It was easy to see he rarely talked about her and you were grateful that he found that much comfort in you.

Some time later he was sitting at his harpsichord, playing a self composed melody as you browsed his shelves. There was an almost familiar calm in the air, like this was a usual happening and it would simply just happen again. A naturally reoccurring moment. You found comfort in his presence too. 

You looked up from the shelves when you heard his sigh. “I can’t seem to master this melody,” he stated, “The ending never sounds right.” The annoyed demeanor contradicted his lax look. At least lax for him. His vest and suit jacket had been discarded a while ago leaving him with a popped button, loosened tie, and rolled up sleeves. “I may just leave this one in the air.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” you said, walking over to him, “Though we can be our own worst critics. I know I’m mine.”

“It sounds… forced. Almost as if it’s reluctant to work with me.”

“Forced things just need time.” You placed your hand on his shoulders, digging in your thumbs to relieve the tension you felt. A soft groan as he let his head lull back to rest against your stomach. “Time is all you need sometimes. I thought you would have learned that already, old man.”

He opened his eyes, raising a brow at you. “Always with that mouth.”

You smiled down on him fondly, something- probably the wine in your system -thought about pressing a kiss to his forehead right then. “What can I say? It has a mind of its own.”

“I do prefer when it’s otherwise occupied,” he stated, closing his eyes again.

Your fingers dug a little deeper at that, caught off guard. “And yet.”

Hannibal played a couple soft notes, seemingly testing the waters for his next attempt at getting it to sound right. “And yet.” The first melody seemed almost innocent, but was followed by a second seemingly stalking after it. “Would you mind putting on a record? It seemed I’ve grown bored with music of my own.”

“Sure thing, Han.” Giving his shoulders one final squeeze you pulled away from him. At the record table you browsed through his selection. Hannibal was still composing as you decided to go with a record that looked more worn than the others, figuring something well loved would help him out of his frustrated state. Setting it on the platter, you gave it a brief once over with the anti static brush, knowing he’d probably be attentive to that type of thing, and dropped the needle. The music filled the air as you took in the melody. “Very you.”

He let out a soft chuckle, abandoning the harpsichord, in favor walking over to you. “Very me, indeed.” Hannibal took the record sleeve out of your hand, setting it down on the table. The music’s build up reached. “Would you give me the honor?” His hand was stretched out toward you.

You gave him a sheepish smile, “Afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I’ve been told I’m a wonderful teacher,” he pressed, a charming smile on his lips, “We all start somewhere. Let me be yours.”

A soft laugh bubbled from you as you took in his look of boyish excitement. “You’re not allowed to complain when I step on your toes.” You placed your hand in his. 

He gave a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you’re too terrible, I’ll show you the way I taught Mischa. You can stand on my toes as I try to help you commit the movements into muscle memory.”

“Handsome and a comedian.”

“I try my best.” Hannibal gave you a gentle spin as he pulled you closer. A kiss was pressed to your hand before he placed it on his shoulder. “Now, just follow after me,” he instructed, placing his hand on your hip.

The moment could have made you fall for the man as you danced with him throughout the room. Toothy smiles and teasing winks were sent your way the couple of times you stepped on his toe. Soon enough, you figured out the pace and learned how to follow through with his unspoken plans. Still, ever the novice, you managed to place your foot in a way that sent you both stumbling to the floor.

Hannibal held you close to his chest, ensuring you didn’t get hurt in the fall. “Oh my sweet girl,” he laughed, “we are going to need more practice.”

You hid your face against his neck, ignoring the fact that he could feel how hot your face was getting. “You want more of that?”

“You were doing perfect, YN,” he stroked your hair sympathetically, “One misstep isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted off of the older man, opting to sit beside him on the floor. Hannibal followed suit, leaning back on his elbows. “I really am going to miss seeing you regularly,” you admitted, reaching out your hand to push back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. 

“We spend much of our time together,” he acknowledged as he looked at you curiously. “In the kitchen-“

Your eyes widened slightly, “We don’t need to talk about that i-it’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Romantically or physically?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you see me as a romantic or physical conquest?”

“I, um,” you opted to look at your fumbling hands, “I’m honestly not sure about romance… especially considering… everything and my experience when it comes to romance. Never really thought past- I’m talking too much.”

Hannibal’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Oh? What happened to the confident girl in the kitchen? Don’t go shy on me now.”

“I was high on your cologne, you can hardly blame me,” you rambled, “It pairs with mine nicely I think.”

His thumb stroked absentmindedly at your jaw. “Such a sweet little thing you are… Now, tell me, YN, what couldn’t you think past?”

“You,” you offered lamely, “Mostly nights when I needed to relax. You’d cross my mind. I’d wonder how you felt. How’d you do things. Maybe you’d like to leave bruises only you’d ever know about…”

“There’s something special in knowing what others don’t,” Hannibal acknowledged, “I do enjoy my lovers wearing my marks, hidden from others view and only acknowledged by myself. As it should be, I’m certain you agree.”

You swallowed thickly at the implication of being marked as his solely. The idea of having normal conversations with him at the college with evidence of him knowing you well burned against your skin. Maybe you’d see if you could convince him into one particular fantasy Friday night had conjured. 

He rested his thumb against your bottom lip, bringing you back to him. “I’ve had thoughts of my own… I wonder… Have you ever wrapped a hand around your own neck?” Hannibal smirked at the way your lips parted in surprise as he felt the heat rise to your face, caught in a way you hadn’t expected. “Sweet girl, were you desperate for me?”

You went to lick your bottom lip out of habit, instead finding the pad of his thumb. “Yes, sir.”

“Darling,” he sighed out softly, almost disappointed, “we could have sorted you out this entire time, if you’d only ask politely. There would have been no need for you to imagine, creative as you might have been. You always put everyone’s needs before yours, but where does that leave you?” Hannibal his thumb pressed against your lips lightly, humming in satisfaction when you let him in, already so compliant. “All you have to do is ask. What would you have me do tonight?” A soft pop sounded in the room as he pulled his thumb back, smearing your spit onto your lips and chin. 

“Just tonight?” The words rolled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. 

A soft laugh. “Maybe more, if you behave.”

Hannibal threaded his hand into your hair, pulling your head back slightly. Leaning closer he took a deep breath, taking you in, before leaving a simple kiss against your neck. His warm breath fanned across your face as he kept you in anticipation. Finally he graced you with a feather light kiss, so quick you weren’t sure you even noticed. You didn’t have time to feel ashamed of the whine that had escaped when he started to move away. Following after him, you caught him in an urgent kiss, threading your own hands in his hair to make sure he’d stay close. Hannibal bit at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding in the second you gasped. You ignored the sting and slight coppery taste. 

Sure you had had your fair share of ventures. It was only natural to crave the attention for the night or a couple hours. However, Hannibal didn’t feel like any of your past partners. His kiss was unrelenting and passionate. Quickly he learned exactly how to kiss you to ensure you’d moan into his mouth. You weren’t sure how long had been spent like this. Lips on lips. Someone’s wandering hand trailing down the other’s body. The growing need. Every movement slowly became bolder. Hannibal took the time to pull you onto his thigh, closing the distance between you even more. He kissed along your neck until he found a spot that made you buck against him. 

“Please,” you sighed out, not really knowing exactly what you wanted, but having faith that he’d give you just what you needed. 

Hannibal leaned his forehead against yours, “Are you sure about this, darling?” 

It wasn’t time for contemplation though, everything was already set into motion. He had just asked out of politeness. His hands moved to your hips, he dragged you against himself in a way that clouded your mind. “You’re very convincing,” you said with a shuddered breath. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you matched his rhythm. At the moment everything in the world was him and you couldn’t find it in you to mind. 

“You came to me,” he pointed out. His hand tugged at your shirt and you allowed him to pull it off. Fingers raised goose bumps along your skin as he followed the fabric of your bra to unclasp the material.  

“Could you blame me?” You kissed the side of his jaw for the second time this night. The lipstick mark left behind wasn’t as embarrassing when you were half undressed on his lap. A blush blossomed in your chest as you watched his darken eyes take you in.

Hannibal kissed along your chest. His hand made its way into your pants, drawing slow circles on your clit. Your soft moan and jut of your hips urged him for more. Before you could ask, he thrusted two fingers inside of you, the pace changing every so often as he took in your reactions. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you grinded against his hand. Soft whimpers were muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 

“Come on sweet girl,” he used his free hand to pull you off of his shoulder by the hair, “you shouldn’t be hiding. Look at me when I’m touching you. Don’t you want to be my good toy?”

You nodded meekly, unable to make a smart comment when you saw a smirk settle on his lips as a too loud moan took its place. 

“That’s it, no one can hear you,” he teased as he worked at the spot harder, his thumb rubbed at your clit. “You seem very close, what if I…”

As he went to move his hand, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No, no, no. Please, I’ll be good for you.”

He chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he brought his pace back up. Instead he chose to revel in your soft sounds and the way you had to focus to keep your eyes on him. Finally, he decided keeping you on the edge was enough and allowed you to cum on his fingers. 

“Clean up your mess,” he said as he thrusted his cum coated fingers into your mouth, “There you go, good girl.”

You watched him as you sucked his fingers clean. Bringing a hand down you palmed cock through his pants, fully intending on returning the favor. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I’m afraid that status isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Hannibal kissed your pouted lip. “Don’t worry, I fully intend on taking care of you. Come, let’s make you more comfortable.”

As he stood, Hannibal offered you his hand to help you up. You followed him through the home to his bedroom, a place you didn’t think you’d end up but were more than pleased to see. Still you weren’t exactly taking in the sights when you were pulled into a rougher kiss as he led you toward his bed. A not too gentle push to your chest landed you on top of it. Leaning back on your elbows, you watched as Hannibal took his time undressing you fully. 

“You don’t play fair,” you complained, shifting yourself higher on the bed, away from him, “I like a pretty view too you know.”

He smiled, looking down at you fondly, “Very well, but only as a reward for earlier. I know you struggled.”

You smiled at that, shaking your head, “Come here won’t you?”

There wasn’t any time wasted when he settled on top of you, you didn’t have his patience. Your hands worked on his tie and buttons as his lips and teeth trailed across your chest. A subtle grind against your pussy had your thighs squeeze his waist. Pushing his shirt off, you felt down his chest, still surprised by how muscular he seemed to be underneath it all. You wondered if he’d stop you as you reached for his belt.

“That’s enough. I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet.”

An annoyed huff was all you could manage. 

“All in its time, darling.” A surprisingly gentle kiss was dropped on your cheek. “Can you manage waiting a while longer for me?”

You resisted the urge to nuzzle against him, unused to such soft displays from past partners. “Yes, sir...”

“Always such a sweet, polite thing.” 

Hannibal kissed and bit his way down your body, ensuring there would be evidence of him the next time you saw yourself in the mirror. He allowed you to thread your fingers in his hair, giving him a soft push down when he took too long marking you in one spot. It wasn’t much longer until Hannibal was level with your thighs, he pushed them further apart. A moment passed without anything before you remembered his rule. Willing yourself up you looked down at him, catching a wink before you were rewarded with a broad lick. Hannibal sucked your clit, pressing your hips down when you grinded against him. 

A helpless noise was the most you could do.

He bit your thigh, his fingers immediately making their way back inside of you, targeting the spot he had quickly learned turned you to putty. 

“You really are beautiful like this,” Hannibal acknowledged, “Completely at my mercy. Desperate for anything I’m willing to give you.”

There wasn’t any time to think up something to say as Hannibal’s mouth replaced his fingers, silencing any words that weren’t his breathy attempts of his name and pleas. Teeth grazed against your clit and a soft moan of his own was enough to pull you closer. 

“Please, daddy,” you begged, too far gone to be embarrassed by your slip, “I’m close…”

Hannibal was merciful, helping you finish as quickly as you had asked. Maybe at another time he would have teased and made you hold on longer but there was only so much patience he had. Especially when there was such an eager lover begging him. You watched him, dazed, as he came back up, his hand gripping at your jaw.

“Open.”

Doing as he wanted, you opened your mouth, instantly receiving a mix of the still lingering wine he had drank at dinner and you. He watched as you swallowed.

He let out an almost dreamy sigh. “So pliant.” 

Hannibal kissed you, finally allowing you to get your way as you pushed off the last clothes. You pumped him in your hand, working up the courage as you shook off the daze he had left you in. He was definitely the most talented partner you had had.

“We don’t have to go any further,” Hannibal reassured you, kissing the side of your mouth, “I’m perfectly sedated watching you.”

You shook your head immediately, not wanting him to think you were hesitant. “I want to, college guys aren’t so giving, just needed some time to clear my head.” As if to prove your point you gave him a squeeze, that made him thrust into your hand on instinct. “I just feel bad you’re doing all the work.”

“I prefer it,” he groaned quietly, as you thumbed at the slit. Hannibal rolled so that you could be on top of him, “But if you insist…”

A soft laugh. “That was hardly the fight I was expecting,” you muttered teasingly, kissing his jaw. 

“My patience is running thin.”

At that you straddled him, your hand lining him up with you. His hands held you steady as you sunk onto him. The both of you moaned softly when he was fully inside. Hannibal slowly grinded you against himself as you adjusted to his size. Hands against his chest, you started riding him in earnest. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you, his fingernails digging harder into your hips. 

“Yours,” you whimpered, too enthralled in the feel of him to pay any attention to the weight of what you were saying. His groans underneath you encouraged you more than anything. “All yours.”

Hannibal sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you firm against him. His soft kiss was a contrast to how roughly he was working himself into you. You couldn’t find it in you to care that he had taken control again. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him do as he pleased, just enjoying the way his hands and lips would travel across your body. Teasing, pinching, biting everywhere he could reach.  Your chest alone would be covered in marks left behind by Hannibal. That would be a problem for the future you to deal with at the moment you were too preoccupied with begging him for more. He’d slow his thrust whenever he felt you close to the end, chuckling lowly at the whining sounds you had made.

“Give daddy one more sweet girl. I know you can.”

You moaned loudly, giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted. When he wanted. Drained, you fell limp against his shoulder. Every small sound you made broadcast directly to him as he used you for all your worth. His arms tightened around you when you tried to pull away from the over stimulation. 

“Daddy’s close,” he promised, his accent thicker than usual, “I’ve taken such good care of my girl. Be good for me.”

Nodding, you dug your nails into his shoulders. You could be good. He had been so good to you after all. Still your vision blurred and it had taken a while longer for him to finally go still inside of you. 

Hannibal kissed the side of your head, before pulling you to lay down against him. His thumb wiped away the stray tear that had managed to fall. “You did so well for me. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

You sighed sleepily, curling into his side more comfortably, “I’m alright. Just want you.”

“We’ll take care of you later,” he promised, seeing how tired you were, “You should rest, darling. I’ll be right here.” His hand rested on your hip, thumbing at forming bruise gently. Between the soft touch and his quiet humming, it didn’t take long for you to find sleep. 

NextChapter

[imastrangeone98]

Indulgence

(A/N: y'all I have to write for daddy zhongli I HAVE TO ITS AN ABSOLUTE NEED)

WARNING: mild smut. Some poorly attempted background and plot. That is all

Daddy zhongli came home I wasted around $100 for him but it was worth it to hear his sexy voice 🥺

Love is a human indulgence. Zhongli knows this better than anyone else. He had spent countless millennia without it, after all, and had functioned just fine.

...So, why? Why do you captivate him so deeply, so helplessly, that he can't possibly imagine a day going by without stopping by your humble tea shop for just a mere glimpse of your face?

Why do you cause his heart to cease beating the moment your sweet voice reaches his ears, oh so politely asking him to stay for a cup of tea, maybe even a homemade moon cake?

But most of all... why do you make him hunger?

Even now, as the two of you walk through the harbor, his eyes never stray far from your lips. His hand never leaves your waist. His ears focus on the rhythmic cadence of your words.

And most of all, his tongue craves your taste.

He imagines you squirming beneath him, whimpering his name as he buries his face between your legs, tongue delving further and further into your tight, wet-

"Zhongli? Are you feeling alright? Your face is positively red!"

You reach out to brush a hand against his forehead, but he gently nudges it aside, out of fear that if you touch him, he will lose himself completely.

"Pardon me; it seems I was lost in thought. Let's continue on, shall we?"

But the images never left. In fact, they evolved.

He can no longer look at you without having the most depraved thoughts race through his mind.

Your voice moaning his name. Your hands scratching his back. You legs wrapped around his waist as he pounds into you, over and over, until he can no longer tell where he ends and you begin.

When he lays down for the night, it is not sleep that embraces him, but instead, the phantom image of your arms. The feel of your nonexistent chest meeting his back, as you whisper for him to lie back down.

He feels your presence in every aspect of his life. From the tea he drinks, to the silk sheets on his bed, he sees you. He feels you. He smells you. He tastes you.

You reek of indulgence. And he wishes for nothing more than to indulge. After all, he is no longer bound to the duties of the Geo Archon. In many aspects, he is, essentially, human.

So... why not indulge as the humans do?

[...]

It is raining.

The two of you are just returning from a peaceful walk around the harbor when it suddenly begins to pour, complete with flashes of lightning in the distance. And you, with your ever gracious heart, offer to let him shelter in your home until the storm passes.

As the two of you sit in the waiting room, sipping on a warm milk tea you made, he takes note of everything in your small, yet cozy home: the cluttered kitchen, the various small plants tucked away in the corners, the ever-present smell of jasmine. He even spots a few of his courting gifts to you placed on full display for all to see.

It sparks a flame of pride in his chest.

Encouraged by it, he scoots closer to you. And he delights in the way you lean into him, head resting just below his shoulder because you're just so small, compared to him.

You'd look so nice beneath him, he thinks.

"So... what shall we occupy ourselves with?" he asks you, setting down his teacup and looking at you eagerly. "A game, perhaps?"

"So long as it doesn't involve mora," you joke. "You'd lose it all in a heartbeat."

"And yet you always play." His voice suddenly drops to a whisper, and he leans closer, nose brushing against yours. "...I have an idea for a game, if you're willing."

You smile. "And what could it be?"

In a flash, he scoops you up, gazing deep into your bright eyes.

"How about I show you?"

[...]

And show you, he does.

Eagerly thrusting into your wet hole, he delights in the way you whimper, nails raking down his back as he takes you.

"Zhongli..." you cry out helplessly, with that sweet voice of yours. "Zhongli...!"

"I'm here," he pants, pressing his lips to your cheek. And he fights the moan rising in his throat when you suddenly tighten around him. "Finally..."

You're here. With him. In his arms. In your bed. Bodies pressed so close together, he can no longer tell where he ends and you begin.

And he has never felt more complete.

"Mine," he growls, hips viciously slapping against yours as your hands thread their way through his hair. "I'll never let you go."

You smile and nod, tears in your eyes.

You're so beautiful.

"My jewel," he purrs. "Mine."

"Yours," you whimper, pulling him down for a lip-bruising kiss.

And his vision turns white. Stars dance across his eyelids. He has never seen the world quite like this.

And it's all because of you.

You are better than any image he could conjure, than any fine tea in all of Teyvat, than any of the most beautiful glaze lilies.

...He loves you.

And as the two of you pant, staring deeply into each other's eyes, as your hand rubs soothing circles onto his cheek, he feels more than sees...

...That you love him too.

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I know this is pretty fucking self-indulgent... but ngl I actually really like this

[djarrex]

Hi everyone, just wanted to address what happened last night along with some other things from before that all tie in together.

There’s multiple parts to the following post - please make sure you read all of it if you’re gonna take the time to even start.

It was midnight and y'all were still jumping in on anon and telling me how I'm awful for not commenting, owning up, or taking responsibility - I should have been in bed. I have a life and job outside this app; and with the several of you in my inbox and it being too late at night to address each, I’m gonna do it now. I can’t not say something about all of this. I just can’t keep quiet and ignore the problem - it’s not fair to you all. Deleting one post already has you guys even more riled up and all I wanted to do was offer something better than a “half-hearted apology” (it was very late at night when I wrote that very short apology, and wanted a redo tbh). 

I really didn't want to make a long post like this. I reached out to a select few on here because I care about them (there's more of you, but like I said, it was at the time after midnight and I was fucking exhausted). but I was being demanded for accountability. So here I am.

Allow me to be real with you all, if that's ok. If it's not, well, idk. First I wanna address all you anons, who, instead of speaking to me one on one about all this, want to criticize me and shame me and my writing when truthfully it feels like you haven't even read more than a handful of my work. I didn’t realize that I write the clones all the same way? That I always make them super aggressive and uncaring and dom? “you write every single clone as so dominant instead as unique individual men with their own personalities” Interesting. See, that right there tells me you haven't read nearly enough of my stuff for me to believe that's true. That's one accusation I absolutely will not back you on because I know it’s inaccurate - saying how I group the clones into some overly-aggressive, and uncaring category - that I always write all of them as mean in bed because they're men of color. And hey, if I do write rough smut - which yeah, it's out there and I write it, as do a lot of you - there are warnings at the beginning, aftercare, dialogue, reader sharing their feelings, and most importantly... consent between the two. That’s what warnings are for, so that you know what you’re going to be reading. That’s why I, as we all do, appreciate warnings listed at the tops of fics; honestly, write them sub or dom or switch or however you want but don’t come at me like that. I’m sorry if I'm coming across as rude because I'm usually not, I’m one of the nicest people you’ll meet, but I will not stand idly by while you chastise my writing (writing that is pretty much the same type of stuff a lot of you write & rb with the same characters) that you haven’t read enough of to back such claims.

Next: Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart,

I get it. Really, I do. I fully understand the problem of whitewashing in SW along with almost everywhere else, and I do not agree with it. It's a huge problem, and it needs to be rectified. Now just because I don't speak publicly about it and opt out of publicly shaming TBB, doesn't mean that I agree with what’s going on. Not everyone is comfortable with sharing their opinions on a subject, no matter what that subject is or which side they're on. You live and you learn when it comes to that. 

It has never been my intention to fetishize POC in my writing, which btw, the same people who are saying that it is my intention are the ones claiming I portray all of the clones as the same, aggressive men, lacking their individuality. It’s a claim that is simply not true, and I know I have followers on here to back me up on that. I know what I've written; how about you check it out and tell me that you don't see the words "soft" or "fluff" or "cuddling" or “gentle” or “tender” within my work linked in my ML. Clone character being a good partner and father? Tender love making? Holding each others faces in their hands? “We/you survived” sex? Taking care of their partner? Saying “I love you” to one another? Confirming the safe word and going slow at first? Oh my - riveting and harsh stuff - totally unacceptable.  

Now: My admittedly problematic writings of Rex + Zygerria,

I went into writing that rp fic totally unaware and unknowing of the true implications. For that, I sincerely apologize. When I posted the NSFW alphabet, that’s when I was called out on that rp fic - not when I first posted it. Which the timeline doesn’t matter, I know that, but it concerns me a little bit that no one spoke up about it sooner - letting me dig myself deeper into a hole that I didn’t realize I was inside of in the first place. I've apologized once, and I know that doesn't negate what happened; I acknowledged my mistake back then, but I suppose that wasn’t good enough. I had asked you, anon, to message me to give me guidance, to teach me on what to do about the fic - you stayed hidden. Well, respectfully, what the fuck? I know we're all adults but don't lecture me and avoid me when I’d literally reached out for guidance on how to properly rectify the issue. I fixed my wording in some of my fics (the things I’ve caught upon rereading them) because I recognized and more importantly learned about and from my mistakes along with the unintentional negative implications of how I wrote those characters. Some of y'all wanna tell me that I "haven't learned"? Who are you, my personal blog police? My professor? My life coach? Are you even my friend? If I'm wrong and haven't learned, then fucking educate me. I worked hard on that rp fic, just like I do with a majority of what I write, but it doesn’t matter because I will delete it knowing that it’s harmful to others and I apologize for inadvertently romanticizing slavery with what I wrote - it was unintentional, and I’m truly sorry to those who have been hurt by it. I know it’s wrong, and there’s no proper excuse for it. Can’t go back in time, but consider it gone now.

Since that first wakeup call, I’ve been working hard to ensure I avoid using certain words and ideas when describing the clones in my fics. If there’s still something you see that isn’t correct or is inappropriate, please tell me! Don’t hold it in but then jump on the “attack M” bandwagon. Private message me, or come peacefully off or on anon, there will be no hard feelings. I don’t mind being corrected when I make a mistake - that’s just part of life, we all make mistakes and we live and learn from them. Making mistakes doesn’t = scumbag human. When you hold your breath and choose not to take the time to guide me, and if I appear to still be making the same mistakes, well, idk. I’m telling you right now that I do not mind if you message me with the good intention of pushing me in the right direction. When you come at me with hostility on anon, well, no thank you. To the anons that came without rage: thank you! I read what you wrote, and I have a better understanding as to how my writing had hurt the lovely followers of mine, and tried to address as much as possible in this post. See, angry mob anons? It costs zero credits to be kind and offer up your thoughts and advice with a good heart. I’m not going to hate you or block you if you try to correct me. I don’t block unless you’re a snoopin’ minor. Just don’t hold a knife to my throat.

Now: Why did I delete the tags and then my response to that anon ask? 

Simply put: I felt awful. Deleting it doesn’t immediately mean I’m hiding from it and ignoring the issue. I wanted to come up with a better apology, explanation, whatever you wanna call it, because my followers deserve that. The ones who enjoy my work, the ones who interact, the ones who I call my friends, the ones who know that I’m a good person. Didn’t want to leave the tags/post floating around all night, giving more people time to sharpen their pitchforks and join the mob while I attempted to sleep. Trust me, I know saying that I had no ill intentions when tagging that post doesn’t make it better nor does it make it go away. I’m just trying to show you my point of view, that I knew immediately how I should not have tagged it that way, so that’s why I deleted them. I corrected my mistake. But y’all are too fucking quick I swear.

One more thing:

I know some of you who had called me out with the passive-aggressive inbox messages are still following me, and for what? You don’t like what I post, which is why one would follow another in the first place, so why bother sticking around? Do you feel like you need to police my blog? You want to be there the literal minute I make a mistake? I’m gonna turn off anon for a bit, so if you wanna discuss, message me. Just know that if you’re going to come at me with knives out, I probably won’t reply to you. 

To conclude:

I’m sorry. Truly sorry for the entire Rex + Zygerria outfit + slaver ordeal with both the fic from a while ago and then the tags from last night. We can’t go back in time; the only option is to correct past mistakes that are able to be corrected, and then move on with new knowledge that’ll aid in me working even harder to ensure my writing isn’t inappropriate or offensive, and doesn’t hurt my followers nor the characters I write for. I’m still going to write self-indulgent filth and fluff, post-order 66 Rex, and other misc shit. I enjoy writing fanfic, as I know a lot of you enjoy reading what I write and love to talk to me about it. I hope that this didn’t come off as me being a bitch, because I’m really not. I enjoy interacting with the handful of people on here that I’d call my friends, and I love reading your reactions and tags to my fics when you’re excited and/or horny (LOL). It’s just after lunch time where I’m at, so I hope you have a great rest of the day/night/morning whatever for wherever you are.  

<3 

M

[frankcastiglione]

Barba Ardeat - Nathan Bateman (Ex Machina) x reader fic

word count: 1.9k rating: E/M - for smut / slight daddy kink summary: Nathan is up late working and you want him to come back to bed... a/n: this is 100% self indulgent cuz i have a trash crush on him so here goes 

Barba Ardeat

The low whirring of a computer fan on most nights lulls you to sleep. You can’t sleep with absolute silence; neither can Nathan. His mind won’t turn off in the complete silence. Though, his mind is always working. He takes his work to bed with him. That’s why your mattress is on the floor next to his work desk. The sound of his computers running is a familiar sound. You’ve had to get used to dim light from the screen coming on at weird hours in the night, or the squeak of his rolling desk chair, a scratch of his pen on a sticky note.

Tonight though, the whirring stirs you from sleep. You roll over to find Nathan at his computer desk, glasses on his nose. Normally he sits so relaxed, an elbow on the desktop, his cheek pressed against his fist. Right now, he’s sitting up straight. Alert. His fingers are clacking over the keys, and you think maybe that’s what woke you instead. You’re too tired to notice.

“Nathan?” sleep is clinging to your voice. You sit up and stretch. “Everything alright?”

“I’ve got it,” he answers you, not turning around. His fingers haven’t stopped moving once. You see the lines of code flash across the screen. You have no idea what any of it means. That’s part of the reason he doesn’t mind you being here with him. You don’t understand any of it, so you can’t tell anyone trade secrets. Not that you would, you have no other motives. Ratting on your boyfriend isn’t something you have in mind. What you want, is for him to come back to bed.

“Got what?” You rub your eyes and stand up. Coming up behind him, you drape your arms over his shoulders, your hands rub up and down his smooth chest.

“I beat my high score,” he smiles, as if he can’t believe it. You’re confused, watching the screens, he’s obviously not playing a game. Unless writing code is a game you can get points for, you’re not even sure at this point.

“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” you laugh kissing the back of his shaved head.

“Maybe,” he teases and tilts his head back to kiss the underside of your chin. “Go back to bed, baby. I’ll be up for a while.”

“No,” you whine, “Come back to bed with me,” you kiss the shell of his ear. “Can’t this wait until the morning?”

He sighs, leaning his head back to rest against your chest. Taking off his glasses, he sets them down on the desk. The metal frames hit the glass desk with a clatter.

“Yeah you’re right,” he rubs the bridge of his nose. His head pushes back into your chest a little harder, you know what he’s doing. You reach up to put your hand on his forehead to keep him secure to your chest. The back of his head cushioned on your breasts.

With another sigh, he reaches for his glasses to push them back on his nose. You let him go as he leans forward. He scrawls one more note, then spins around in his chair to face you. His hands reach for your hips; the vice grip pulling you towards him. He closes his eyes and begins to mouth at your breasts through your tank top. His tongue dampening the fabric covering your nipples. He huffs out a chuckle when your nipples peak, and his warm tongue laps back and forth.

He’s in control, never controlling, but always in control.

You’ve only recently come out to this place together. And he’s begun a project which you know little about. You’ve begun to fall into a routine. He works out in the mornings, then you eat breakfast together. He works during the day, always pausing for mealtimes with you. The nights belong to you. When he was alone, he drank to quiet his mind now that you’re here you help distract. Usually with sexual activities, but sometimes it’s just the quiet sound of your voice. He’s fallen asleep with his head in your lap dozens of times, you gently stroking his beard.

Only recently has he started to work late into the night, and you encouraged him to get some adequate sleep. So, he’s only just begun a system of making notes on sticky notes and sticking them to the wall each night. In the morning he’ll look back over them to pick up where he left off.

You know he’s made a breakthrough if he’s broken his routine to stay up late. So, you don’t push it, but you can tell he’s tired.

Well maybe not that tired.

“Nathan,” you gasp, shuddering under his tongue.

“Lay down,” he looks up at you over the rim of his glasses.

You don’t have to be told twice, though you might test him sometimes because you like when he throws you over his knee. But not tonight, you’re too desperate for him.

He kneels beside the mattress and peels off your tank top. Climbing on top of you, his midsection rests against your core – keeping you still. Which leaves his mouth level with your now bare breasts. He picks up where he left off and seals his mouth around your tender flesh. His beard tickles your skin, as his tongue teases your nipple lazily. You groan and try to buck up your hips for friction, but he won’t let you.

When he pulls off one breast, he makes a point to scrape his beard against you. He chuckles when you writhe.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ hate me,” Nathan states, kissing your nipple.

“I already hate you,” you grunt trying to wriggle out from under him.

“I know what we agreed-“

“No more working at night,” you say at the same time.

“But I’m on to something baby, I’m close.”

“I am too,” you buck your hips up again, hoping he’ll get the message. And he reads you loud and clear.

“If I let you come will you let me go back to work?”

You nod, “yes!”

“Yes what?” his brow cocks up high.

“Yes daddy.”

He grins slipping his hand down the front of your panties. Warm fingers tease your clit and your folds, warm mouth still all over your breasts. Your nails dig into his shoulders and the back of his neck. Practiced fingers bring you to the edge and toppling over quickly.

A quick kiss is pressed to your lips before he hops up, leaving you a sweaty mess on the bed. And he’s back at his computer desk clacking away.

“Nathan,” you call his name, still trying to catch your breath. You know he’s hard, he’s got to be. It makes you smile he’s ignoring his own pleasure and release because there’s an idea eating away at him. He’s always so meticulous and precise – all while remaining casual. Now he’s so driven, his one-track mind won’t let him think on anything else. “Can I take care of you?”

You want to see if you can get him to crack. If his goal was to give you an orgasm to get you to fall asleep that plan failed. You are buzzing and relaxed, but now you’re thinking about his cock.

Looking up at him, you watch. He’s still clacking away, but then he stops for a beat and his body stills. He gives one nod; if you’d blinked you would’ve missed it.

He keeps typing while you come around the front of the desk, it’s an awkward space but you do your best. His shorts show the evidence of his erection, and you’re quick to grasp him. He lets out a soft grunt but keeps typing. He’s never expressed this but it’s a fantasy he’s entertained.

You pull his shorts down while he works, and in the soft glow from the computer screen you see how he aches for you. Your prop yourself up on his thighs and take him into your mouth. He stops typing for a moment – only one. But he regains his composure. You don’t even have to look up at him to know he’s picked up on your little game.

But you know him, you know what it takes to bring him to the edge quickly. You know the ways to draw it out too. He’s trying his hardest to keep a straight face, but you can see that distinct vein in the middle of his forehead.

When you hollow your cheeks, that’s the end. His body stiffens and his hands fall from the keyboard going limp. He lets out a groan and starts to gasp looking down at you.

Composure ruined. Success.

He sees you smile around him, and he can’t help but smile back. He can’t be cocky with you because you’ll give it right back to him.

“Alright, I’ll let you get back to work,” you adjust him back in his shorts and come around to kiss him on the cheek. He captures your chin between his forefinger and thumb to pull you in for a kiss.

“You know you’re more important than all this,” he gestures wildly, “but I’ve got something here.”

You nod, you know.

“Get some sleep,” he tells you. And as soon as your head hits the pillow, you’re out.

The morning comes and you wake up alone. Which is typical. Knowing Nathan, he’s working out. He didn’t drink last night, but since it was a late night – he’s probably thinking over what he worked on the night before. He lets you sleep while he works out, but he’ll wake you for breakfast if you aren’t already awake.

Rifling through a drawer, you take a Henley of Nathan’s and pull it on.

You make the familiar path through this large place to his workout spot. You can hear him grunting before you see him and hear the blows land on the punching bag.

“Good morning!” he huffs, bouncing on his weight from foot to foot. “So, I was thinking about last night,” he says punching between words. His grey tank top is darker grey under his arms and on his chest from the sweat, he’s been here awhile.

You hum back in response, taking a seat on the leather seat of his workout equipment.

“I owe you something.” He keeps moving, and you unashamedly watch his tight ass move in his black gym shorts.

“What do you owe me?”

“Is that my shirt?” he stops, turning to look at you. His eyebrows raising up; he squints a little since his glasses are off. He starts to unravel the tape wrapped around his fists.

“It is,” you push up one of the sleeves that had fallen, suddenly it’s a little warm in this shirt. “What do you owe me?”

“A thank you,” he stands over you and pushes your shoulders back so you’re lying on the cushioned bench.

“For what?” you ask laying back, unsure of what he’s doing. Until you feel him push up the Henley on your hips and tug your panties down and off your legs. He’s kneeling in front of you, and he pushes your legs apart.

He says nothing as he buries his face between your legs, his mouth closing around your heat. His beard tickles your thighs and he moves your legs to drape over his sweaty shoulders. He eats like a man starved, and he doesn’t stop until you’ve come twice.

“You want breakfast?” he looks up at you when he’s finished. His beard dripping with your juices. He’s got a smug smile plastered to his face.

Silently you nod, trying to catch your breath.

He makes you breakfast; and spends the rest of the morning gently rubbing lotion between your thighs to ease the itch from the burn his beard left behind.

//

im working on a taglist, if you wold like to be in tagged in my future works please click HERE

///

and according to google translate - barba ardeat means ‘the beard burns’ in latin...if it’s wrong well we all know how google translate isn’t always accurate

[notnctu]

POV | PART TWO

━ ❝ i’d love to see me from your point of view.❞

❀ lee donghyuck x fem!reader ❀ genre - slow burn, fluff! angst, (optional smut is marked with ****) ❀ details - best friends to lovers!au, college!au, ft. best friend mark, slice of life?, inspo by pov by ariana grande ❀ word count - 6.1k ❀ warnings - swearing, dangerous reckless behavior, fingering, penetration, public?sex?, unprotected, slight dirty talk ❀ synopsis - Donghyuck gradually falls in love with you, his best friend, through unprecedented intimate moments that reveal more than what meets the eye and a drunken shared kiss on your birthday makes him realize how hard he’s fallen for you. You’re oblivious to it all, trying to indulge and seek a one true love through bad tinder hookups or men you meet at the club, all to only end in self doubt that Donghyuck has to reconcile. And he always tells you what you need to hear, while also leaving out the part where he so badly wishes you can love yourself the way he loves you.

❀ a/n - make sure you read the first part as it’s a continuation! please please leave me feedback, i would really appreciate it :) this is going to be my last long fic for the time being! thanks for dealing with my spam for the past few weeks after months no of writings <3

READ PART ONE

Donghyuck thought about that kiss every night since it happened, yet knowing you didn’t do the same. How unfortunate it was, when he panicked waking next to you in the morning and wondering if you were to confront him about it. However, there was nothing, no follow up. You didn’t remember it and he couldn’t tell if the sigh that left his mouth that morning was out of relief or despair. 

Regardless, that became his epiphany and the more his love for you grew, the more he wished to be around you for all his days. Donghyuck jumped at every text message, picking up the phone to see if it was you and noting the disappointment in his heart whenever it wasn’t. He found himself smiling whenever your name was brought up, fondly thinking of how you make his heart race. 

The moments that you were together, he swears on every universe that he’s the happiest he’s ever been. There’s something about you that makes him want to believe in love, and it’s not because of your unrealistic desires to find one. As selfish as he came to be, he wanted you all to himself and to be the sole reason behind your smiles.

“No Mark?” Asking as you hop into Donghyuck’s car, the clock on his dash reading the red digital numbers 2:12 A.M. 

“Why can’t we just hang out for once?” He whines, but hopes that it’s playful enough to where you can’t tell that he’s actually serious. Donghyuck hears your melodic chuckle and everything inside him rumbles with glee and satisfaction. 

He steals quick peeks over at you in the passenger seat, greedily taking in your appearance. “That’s not exactly how a throuple works, but I’ll let it pass. Mark never has time for us anyways.” 

There is something so intimate about the late nights; the outside world is dead in its sleep and vulnerable to chaos. The streets are completely empty and it truly feels as if it’s you two against the city. It brings no regulations, easy escapes, staying up all night to feel something the day can’t give you. 

You are the perfect person to spend them with. You’re the very definition of a good feeling, where he’s forgetting all his bad days and soaring through the heavens. The most accurate human form of excitement, the adrenaline and sweetest thrills that run throughout his body. 

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to do…” As Donghyuck pulls into a gas station parking lot, the small convenient store is brightly lit with a blinding white sign that reads a popular chain establishment. 

Hyuck blinks at you curiously, head tilt and waiting for you to finish your sentence. Getting out of the car, you stand on your toes and rest your chin on the roof of his car to speak directly to him, “you know that big intersection over on 34th Boulevard?” He catches the mischievous twinkle that shines in your eyes and a grin so fearless fits your face perfectly.

He nods, spinning his car keys on his finger and walking up to the store. But he’s looking back at you with eyes that ask for you to proceed with him, and you’re running towards him with a sudden youthful energy and a jump in your step. 

Your hand latches onto his arm and his gaze drops momentarily to follow it, “I’ve always wanted to just run down the middle of it. To run down a busy traffic area when it’s empty, knowing that this would be the only opportunity to do it without getting run over.” 

“Is that what you’re suggesting we should do next?” Hyuck opens the fridge and grabs his favorite prepackaged ice cream cone. Your grip on his sleeve tightens, your dazzling eyes never leaving his.

He hands you a random popsicle and you take it mindlessly, your train of thought still trying to convince Hyuck to embark on achieving this new thrill of yours. “If you didn’t have anything else planned…”

“Am I some Fairy Godmother? Granting your wishes to come true?” Using sarcasm to hide his undying desire to scream yes! may be the best thing he’s learned to utilize. However, you don’t need to beg any more when a small smile curves at his lips. He’s more than convinced.

“Ah, a happy couple. You two look great together.” The rather talkative cashier compliments while he rings up the icey treats. 

Just before Hyuck can clarify, you’re pulling him closer by the arm and using your fake saccharine smile. “The best boyfriend ever!” His throat freezes, but he’s following your lead closely. Confusion wandering his thoughts, but heart swelling at your usage of the word boyfriend to reference him. 

The friendly stranger laughs wholeheartedly at your giddy act, completely falling for your overplayed nature of a lovey dovey girlfriend. “He always buys me what I want, like this ice cream. He knows it’s my favorite.” You blink innocently up at him, but he finally understands your malicious motive.

Shooting a glare at you, he complies silently and pulls out his card to pay for both of your treats. “Right. Anything my baby wants.” He says the pet name so easily that it shocks him a bit. 

“Hey, you’re a good man.” The clueless cashier smiles even wider and prints the receipt. With a simple gratitude, you both exit the store and you’re laughing the loudest form of mockery.

Jumping into the car, Hyuck is quick to roll his eyes. “He always buys me what I want.” He imitates your previous statement with a silly voice. “I can’t believe you robbed me.” 

The ridiculous scheme actually managed to work, leaving your stomach to hurt from the intense fit of giggles. “My baby? Where did you learn that?” You say between your spurts of laughter.

Heat rises up his neck, slightly embarrassed. “So what? Nicknames are cute.” He admits bashfully, while shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. 

Your chuckles die down and you’re leaning over the middle console to get a closer look of his expression. “Really? Didn’t think you were the type. You never used them with your exes.” 

“Around you.” A cringe runs down your spine when you witness Hyuck bite his ice cream, settling back in your seat with a grumble.

“Pet names in private.” Now, his palms grow a bit slick with perspiration. “That’s endearing.” Unwrapping your melting popsicle, you don’t probe him more about the subject. Instead, Hyuck turns up the stereo to drown out any more talk about romantic gestures.

After several rounds of finding street parking, Hyuck finally swerves into a spot situated just before the large six-way intersection. The traffic lights blink in view at the end of the street and in the darkness, there are no cars around. An unfamiliar scene, this place is nothing but a wide open road with five lanes that meet in the middle and lead to six different directions. The white painted lines that divide up the road are as chaotic as it looks during the day filled with traffic.

Nonetheless, you are right. There is no other chance to see it so dead, so empty, so free. 

And you’re already hopping out of the car that Hyuck breaks his daydream and hurries after you. Standing the middle of the road is a dangerous scheme, yet these are the thrill seeking moments that you crave too well. 

Extending your arm out and your palm facing the night sky, you grin enticingly at Hyuck to join you in the middle of the chaotic lines and the adrenaline picks up within him. He, too, matches your smile and lets every form of enthusiasm fuel him. 

“Race you to the end.” Hyuck begins bolting down the long runway, causing you to scoff in disbelief at his sudden challenge. 

The wind that takes flight against his body is crisp on his skin and driving his strands into a wild mess. Turning around, he sees that you’re quick on his tail. However, the one thing that catches his eye… the one thing that makes this moment another one of your most beautiful ones is the utter bliss and peace in your facial expression. 

Eyes are closed and arms are spread out as if you’re letting the wind carry you away. The air slips between the spaces of your fingers and the night is filled with nothing, but your gentle out of breath giggles. 

Donghyuck stops in his tracks right under the colorful traffic lights at your astonishing image. And if you are to open your eyes, you’ll see the marvelous image of your sun waiting for you in the middle of the largest intersection of the city with his mouth slightly agape and marked under a trance.

An exasperated sigh escapes as a puff of smoke and his heart works extra hard to pump oxygen in his veins. In his perspective, the excellent city skyline at the horizon remains your background and you’re running toward him with a breathless joy. Another splitting breathtaking image that will live in his mind for as long as he knows you.

So he throws caution to the wind and though it feels too good to be true, he loves his best friend more than anyone he’s ever come across.

By the end of your rendezvous, you two find a secret rooftop to fully enjoy your silent city. Standing side by side, you both lean with your elbows on the ledge. 

There is something so unspoken and intimate about this very moment, where existing in each other’s presences becomes wholly more comfortable than anything in the world. And this safety allows for vulnerable secrets to spill, for questions that your heart has always been afraid to ask to fall from your lips. 

But you’re not here with just anybody. Donghyuck probably knew what was already on your mind, he just needed you to speak them into existence.

“Hyuck, do you think I’m unlovable?” 

Perhaps, it’s the intimacy that allows for him to talk more confidently about how he views you. Heart over mind, he scoffs in disbelief. “Absolutely not. You’re the most lovable person I know! From your happy giggles to your overall easy going aura. We’re not perfect people, but you’re worth every glance and every praise. I wanted to be with you the very moment you made me laugh.” 

Donghyuck passionately rambles on about your attributes and everything you’ve allowed him to experience over the years of your friendship. While he’s always been there for you, you’re always by his side and making sure he’s living a memorable life. He thanks all his sweetest memories to you, that you are the most impactful person of his entire college experience.

“I came to college thinking I’d have my nose in textbooks all day long, but you fell into my life like an opportunity to escape. I love my nights trying to crush Mark on the leaderboards, but I’d give that up any day to run down a major intersection in the middle of the city with you.” 

With a playful soft chuckle, you say something that practically makes his heart stop and regret oversharing. “You know, from how you describe me… it almost sounds like you’re in love with me.”

“Maybe I am.” He bites the inside of his cheek, unsure what suddenly overcame him. His heartbeat pounds in his ears and he’s anticipating your response, trying every way to decipher the quizzical look on your face. Nevertheless, your hesitation causes him to panic and he intercepts before you can respond. “I meant that as your friend.” 

His heart drops into the pit of his stomach, gaze averting away from you. Lies. Lies. More fucking lies. He should’ve waited to see what you would’ve said. 

Nodding knowingly, you lightly place your hand over his. The warmth of your touch soothes his aching and disappointment. Why is he hurting from a simple look? “I know.” He can’t tell what’s worse, the fact that you truly believe he only loves you as a friend or that you saw right through him and are trying to let him save face. 

“Something happened the night of your birthday that I think I should tell you.” Hyuck sighs out all his frustrations. 

He pulls his hand from underneath yours, “you asked me to kiss you as a birthday favor.” There is no confidence to watch your reaction, his eyes remain focused on the dark city. 

Instead of a painstaking rejection, you laugh wholeheartedly and somehow, he feels much lighter. “And did you?”

“How could I say no to you on your birthday?” Peering over, your fingers softly graze your lips and a wandering look is present in your dazed stare.

“It’s not the first time we’ve kissed, Hyuck.” Smiling at him, Hyuck looks cluelessly at you and doesn’t recall another time. He would’ve remembered. 

“Guess who I stole that same request from?” Your eye lashes bat firmly at him and he gulps at your implied question. There was no way.

“Me? When?” This all causes him to rack his brain of lost files, something he must’ve missed.

Sighing, you bid him a kind smile. “Your birthday party a few months ago. Drunk out of your living mind, you pulled me privately into the kitchen and asked if I could kiss you as a birthday gift.” 

Fuck, no wonder why he couldn’t remember. He didn’t remember a single thing from that night. “It was right after my break up.” 

Nodding, you affirm his realization. “You told me that you felt so lonely, and somehow…. someway… I’ve always made you feel seen. Perhaps, you do the same for me and my drunk ass was bold enough to ask for a similar request.” 

But did you kiss him as if you loved him? With the same amount of love that he did the night of your birthday? 

Nonetheless, you shrug off the topic and move on from it all. “We should go, the sun comes up in a few.” 

Hyuck notes this odd detail. You’re not one to end the nights so abruptly, so it almost seemed as if you didn’t want to speak more about it. 

Perhaps, you did kiss him like you meant it but every fear in your body about loving your best friend stops you from admitting it all. 

Because you shouldn’t love your best friend, but something deep down has always wanted to.

How ridiculous he was to believe that you could ever possibly share the same feelings as him. How foolish he felt the moment you burst into his apartment announcing how you’ve finally found the one after another random Tinder date. 

It’s as the night on the rooftop a week ago didn’t even exist or mean anything to you. But that night ate him up alive, to the point where he sought out love counseling from Mark.

“Oh dude, this is serious.” Mark watches Hyuck pace the room, double around the floorplan with his head in his hands with utter frustration and confusion. You’re the only thing that’s been running through his mind the last few days. 

He grunts and rolls his eyes at how Mark’s face had fallen sullen. “I practically confessed everything I loved about her. It’s pretty serious.”

Mark stands and stops Hyuck by the shoulders, looking dead into his eyes. “I’ve liked her before too and would have done some dumb act to get her to like me back. I get it, Hyuck. So, what do you want to do?”

Donghyuck initially scoffs and tears away from his best friend’s intense stare, “of course you liked her too.” His voice fades out at the end of his sentence. “Mark, I like her so much it’s hard to look at anyone else. She’s…”

“Mesmerizing?” Mark finishes his sentence with a small proud grin on his lips. 

Hyuck couldn’t hold the ridiculous laugh that escapes at how smug Mark looks, but then a silence falls over him. He realizes how perfect that word is to describe you. You are every dazzling trance he’d fawn under. 

“It’s wrong, Mark. She’s our best friend, I can’t ruin us.” Hyuck slumps his shoulders forward and a pout extends. His eyes are wandering the ugly carpet but he’s thinking about every moment you’ve smiled. 

“How did this happen in the first place? I thought you never would’ve liked her…” Mark’s question has Hyuck raking his brain to find his epiphany. “It’s not about your ex, is it? y/n is way too good to be a rebound.” 

“No. This has nothing to do with my old relationships, I genuinely like her… so much.” Hyuck understands the implications in Mark’s sudden abrasive questions. Even it’s difficult for himself to say how it all started and so this has Donghyuck reflecting back on his entire friendship with you.

If only he had noticed your lively smiles sooner, a little earlier, it would have saved him all this time searching for someone who would last. You’ve lasted through every college relationship he’s had and that speaks louder than any confession. 

“I never liked her because I never thought I had a chance. Have you seen her? Our best friend who has 400 matches on Tinder.” Though he blames himself for realizing a little late that he loved you, it was always hard to compete with everyone else. 

“So, what changed then?” 

Hyuck leans against the door to Mark’s room and crosses his arms to contemplate. “Not that I have a chance now, but I can’t hold these feelings back anymore. I want to kiss her until we’re out of breath, to love without any conditions, to be the reason behind her every beautiful moment.” 

Mark raises a confused eyebrow, “but you are.”

“The only reason.” Hyuck speaks his truest desires and Mark coughs aggressively before composing himself. Right, he didn’t stutter one bit. 

So, Hyuck had planned to confess, all until you gave him the very reason he couldn’t. When you showed up unannounced with one of those wide grins that has your eyes shimmering with hope, he just knew something was wrong. All his love and future aspirations were replaced with sheer disappointment and envy.

“I’m falling hard for him.” You begin and your hands are clasped together so innocently. “He brought me to this overlook on a cliff and we just talked for ages. It felt so right and then, he asked to see me again!” Your eyes are completely wondrous and distracted, like the one thought in your mind blocked out everything else. Jumping happily, you’re squealing with excitement thinking about this new person in your life and there is no consideration of Hyuck’s silence.

“That’s… great.” He barely stutters to fill the air and to replace the sound of his heart breaking. He lost you before even getting the chance to even have you. 

“I know right!” You yell joyfully and though your smile is the biggest it's ever been, Hyuck refuses to see this moment as beautiful. He’s no longer looking at you objectively, his bias tainting it all and he sees it in an ugly light. As your best friend, he should be happy for you and rooting for you. He’s known more than anyone else that you have been waiting for someone like this your whole college experience.

However, he can’t feel a single good emotion as you ramble on about your alleged one true love.

“Did you need something?” He cuts you off, growing a bit irritated by your endless praise about a man who never wishes to meet.

Clearing your throat, you take Hyuck’s hand in both of your palms. With begging eyes, you say, “my sister is getting married this weekend and they invited you. 

His hold escapes yours as he walks toward his bedroom, “shouldn’t you invite your new man to your family events now.” It’s difficult for him to hide the bitterness in his voice, but you run up to him and grip his arm. 

“But they think I’m dating you, remember? Plus, my mom referred to you by name. She really likes you.” You snicker, clearly not understanding why Donghyuck seems to be rather distant at the moment.

His ears perk up at the compliment and though it’s a selfish thought, he feels content knowing that he was able to win over your family. So, his heart burns at how your hand slowly travels down to intertwine with his own and how your chin rests on his shoulder lightly. His head turns and he is met a few inches away from your tender lips. For a brief moment, he’s staring at them longer than he should. 

“Come on, Hyuck. Be mine for one more time.” Your whisper is gentle and soft, your breath tickling against his cheek. Despite everything, he loves how you make him feel. It’s always a mixture of happiness and safety. There are no fears with you because you’re absolutely fearless. He can’t imagine how he would’ve opened up without you around, that he puts every form of trust into you. 

So, every little thing that you do. every single passing look. every touch and every spoken word. He falls harder for you every time you simply see him, every time you bat your eyelashes at him. And this love that festers inside of him feels easy and genuine. Perhaps, you’ve been his one true love all along. He’s never felt remarkably seen, where every part is exposed and right at your fingertips. 

And you… have been so patiently waiting for just anyone to steal your heart. How can he let just anyone love you? 

“I’m yours for however long you want me to be.” He lightly ruffles the top of your hair before slightly shrugging you off, afraid that your hold will eventually have him saying other sweet implications. “But don’t expect me to enjoy it.” He smirks at your small chuckle, the roll in your eyes.

“At least pretend.” But he really doesn’t have to. He enjoys every moment being yours. 

When the day finally arrived, the grand wedding may have been another day that Hyuck will never forget how beautiful you looked. Prancing out in your bridesmaid dress, you run towards him through the large field of fake grass. He catches you when you jump into his arms, practically failing all over and tripping over the ends of your chiffon dress. He hits the ground, cushioning your fall. 

“Hey..” you grin down at him breathless, hand resting perfectly on his chest as it was the night of your 21st again.

Hyuck gulps and sends you a glare, “I should have dropped you.” 

“That would have been very chivalrous of you.” Sarcasm bites back at him as you push up and off of him. He’s quick on his feet and brushing off any dust from the bottom of your expensive dress, avoiding the long open slit that runs down to expose one leg.

“Donghyuck, you’re looking ravishing.” Your mother steps out, tall and prideful, but with the most delightful expression as she opens her arms to invite him into a hug. 

He leans into it, while cautiously making suspicious eye contact with you. You shrug back, also confused at why your mother has a sudden change in demeanor. “It’s been so long since the holidays.”

“It’s a pleasure to see you again.” He bids your mother a respectful smile when she pulls away, to which she absolutely fawns at and you’re tugging at his sleeve to drag him away.

“The pleasure is all mine. You make y/n a better person.” And there is no context that Hyuck understands this single phrase before he’s walking away from your force. Your mother waves a small sweet goodbye as she watches you two leave behind a cobblestone wall behind the large reception building.

It’s covered in long vines that grow up the old stones, a beautiful background for an outdoor wedding. “Rude.” He whispers when you finally stop pulling him away.

“She was starting to say odd things.” You laugh, quite nervously actually. Nonetheless, you shake out of your nerves and a beaming expression replaces your troubles. “So, guess what? I’m meeting my man afterwards.” Yet again, the curve of your lips at the thought of another rumbles his own yearning heart.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he looks down while kicking at the loose pebbles on the ground. “Good for you.” grumbles Donghyuck mindlessly.

You don’t notice his low spirits again, you’re talking away about this man as if he’s all you’re consumed with nowadays. On and on, the same speech about how you’re practically ready to give it your all and how he fits someone unimaginable. Eventually, Donghyuck becomes fed up by how your eyes blink up to the sun with another reflection in them. “It’s like you forget who you are when you’re with someone new.” 

And you’re in mid-ramble when you hear his harsh comment that picks aggressively at your skin. It stings, “what?” You cross your arms defensively and raise an eyebrow at him. The tone in your voice is jarringly upset and he opened a can of worms that he isn’t ready for.

Donghyuck swears underneath his breath, looking away at the tall trees behind the small parking lot. “Forget it.” He mumbles, rather frustrated at himself for ticking you off.

“What are you implying?” 

“There is someone that actually makes you a better person rather than someone completely different.” He scoffs, his emotions fueling the worst of him. The words flow from his mouth full of anger and spitefulness. 

Your eyes narrow at him, crossing your arms defensively. “Like you can give me the love you think I deserve? This whole fake boyfriend gimmick has gone too much to your head.”

And his heart is bursting at the seams and all he can see is your angry expression, so he says something he never hopes to regret. Every impulse beats his rationality and in the heat of the moment, Donghyuck confesses, “if only you can see yourself from my point of view and all the emotions I feel when I look at you.” 

With a sharp intake of breath, you’re slightly shocked at his bold statement. You blink cluelessly at him, speechless and deciphering how to respond. The anger fades from the both of you, knowing that the connection you two possess is mutual. Somewhere deep down within you, a light switches on and you’re basking in your sun’s radiance in this moment. 

“Tell me about it.” Your curiosity brings much confusion, but he doesn’t wait a second of hesitation. 

“Happiness, you light up my nights in dark cars with your smile. Trust, there is no one else I’d run down a dangerous intersection with. Courage, being bold enough to dance in a crowded room like no one was watching. Love, when kissing you felt incomparable to anything else in the world. Vulnerability, looking at you and knowing everything about you.” 

Donghyuck takes a cautious step forward toward you. A whirl of thoughts and emotions overwhelmingly flood your heavy mind, but fear no longer holds you back from the one person you’ve always wished to love, harder than any person you’ve ever encountered. “Donghyuck.” 

He freezes at the call of his name, waiting patiently for your next words. “I want to love me the way that you love me... because nobody loves me like you do… even myself. So, I’d love to see me from your point of view.” 

Donghyuck releases the sigh that suffocates him and every firework lights up in his chest. His eyes wander across your canvas and absorb everything wondrous about your features. Even though you’re not entirely smiling, you’re puckering your lips cutely out of embarrassment. And he reassesses how pretty you simply look in your expensive formal chiffon dress and the bold color on your lips that has made you feel good before. 

He thinks aloud, the words leaving his mouth before they can be stopped. “This is your most beautiful moment.” 

When you’re looking up at him to meet his dreamy gaze, a new enthusiasm washes over your entire body. Looking rather inexplicably attractive in his suit, Hyuck stares at you as if you’re all he can see. So, you pull him into the only source of gratitude you can give. A kiss that gives every emotion back to him, one that resembles closely to the one he gave you on your birthday and the one you gave him for his. 

An emotional kiss that tells him more than he can see. He feels it on the tip of your tongue and every ounce of love that rushes over the both of you.

***********

Donghyuck’s wandering hands travel down your waist, over your hips, all until it reaches in between the slit of your dress. His hand instinctively grips at your naked thigh, the feeling of your raw skin driving him wild with impure thoughts. Your hands are quick on his tie, loosening it from around his collar and unbuttoning the first few as you’ve done once before.

“Can,-- Is it okay if--?” Hungry eyes search his face for confirmation, but you’re so lust driven that you’re a stuttering mess. “Do you want this?” 

“Yes.” Says Hyuck without any hesitation. Taking his hand, you’re quick to lead him inside to a more secluded part of the venue. The lavish private bathrooms are brightly lit and he lifts you on top of the marble counters.

“The reception starts in 20 minutes.” You moan as Hyuck kisses down your neck hastily, a hand up the slit of your dress to push your panties aside.

“We’ll make it quick then. I’ll show you love another day.” His knuckle lightly grazes against your erect clit and your grip on his shoulder tightens. Whimpers fall from your lips as your hips mindlessly grind into his hand. “Never took you the type to be so loud.” Hyuck raises an eyebrow and tilts his head mockingly at you.

“This isn’t even close to how loud I can get.” Your statement causes him to swallow hard. Being your best friend, he has kept a rather clear mind from any sexual attraction toward you. He had to know he loved you in order to even see you in that way. 

Gathering your slick, he rubs your clit with two fingers before dipping them into your hole. You lean back into the mirror and prop your feet on the counter to spread open for Hyuck to see. “You let all these idiots fuck your pretty pussy? They don’t deserve you, as a person or a potential partner.” He fingers you deeper and with flicking motions, he hits your sweet spot and causes you to jolt.

“Please, just fuck me. I’ve always wondered how good you’d feel.” His eyes twinkle at your bashful confession, but understands your lustful desires even for your own best friend.

“You think about fucking me?” He asks abruptly, taking his fingers out to suck your juices clean from them. A coined flattered smirk appears on his lips as he unbuckles his belt.

You’re averting eye contact, “well no, maybe just once. I get horny when I’m drunk sometimes.” You admit and he’s rushing to take himself out of his restrictive dress pants. His dick hits the air and he adjusts closer to your dripping core.

And he enters, slowly and slowly inching in so you can adhere to his size. You bite back every yell of pleasure and grip the ends of his dress shirt. Hyuck fills you up deliciously, and you two are connected through bodies beyond any way before. He leans in to give you a sloppy, yet passionate kiss before dragging out his hips and pushing them back in.

There is no guilt, no pain, no sorrows. Knowing Hyuck, he fucks you in the same way he wishes to love you. His hips drive into you passionately and quickly. The time crunch being something that causes him great distraction, but his heart is swelling simply feeling your warmth wrap around him so well.

“My baby is so tight.” Pet names in private. A small grin appears on your face at the sound of the sweet nickname and you pull him closer by tugging his shirt.

“Harder, Hyuck. Don’t hold back anymore.” Moan after moan, Hyuck relentlessly drills into you. His arm is hooked underneath your left thigh to keep it up, and your head keeps banging against the mirror.

Your eyes roll back when his thumb rubs circles on your aching clit. The mixture of both pleasures stimulate you until the build up tension in your stomach begins to reach its peak.

“Cum, I know you fucking want to.” He grunts, keeping the same rhythm that pushes you over your edge. Your walls squeeze around him tightly as your legs shake sporadically from your release. You’re smart to cover your mouth, knowing that the bathroom will only echo your erotic sounds. Your chest rises and falls from the momentum and adrenaline that Hyuck helped you reach, breathlessly trying to calm your heart rate down.

After a few more harsh bumps, he pulls out and motions you forward. Jumping off of the counter, you kneel on the ground and suck his tip lightly. Your swirls are enough for him to empty into your mouth, his hot streams of salty liquid hitting the back of your throat. He looks down at you and your wide eyed expression with his cock in your mouth drives him overboard. 

And you swallow, getting up to lightly plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. A lip stain being worn proudly for just a moment. 

“You amaze me.” Hyuck whispers, holding you against his flushed body and fast paced heart beat. 

“Hurry out you two!” A voice startles the both of you with a knock on the door and you two are quick to readjust yourselves. He hopes to love you a little longer next time, without any interruptions.

***********

After the glorious and excruciating long wedding, you’re walking Hyuck to his car in the small parking lot. During the rest of the night, he held your hand the whole way through and the love that he looked at you with was more than real. 

He talked with your distant relatives as if he’s always known them. Hyuck conducted the dinner table, always knowing what to say. There was no doubt in your head that seeing Donghyuck in the aftermath, he was always going to be someone who was going to make things better. 

The love you long searched for, the love that you had been too afraid to touch, intertwined itself so lovingly underneath the white table cloth. Donghyuck is the one and it took needing to see him a bit more to realize. A little more acceptance from the both of you had to be the final straw.

Donghyuck sheepishly scratches the back of his neck when you reach his car, unsure where the path of your friendship will diverge to next. “Have fun on your date then…” His voice trails off, kicking the rocks at his feet again.

There goes your melodic laughter that soothe his aching heart and the familiar gentle grip on his fingertips. You lift his chin up, the both of you seeing each other clearly now.

From his perspective, you’re absolutely dazzling in the low light and butterflies swirl in the pit of his stomach. He can look at you forever, until months turn into years. He can love you until you two grow old. You’re his fearless, beautiful, inexplicably marvelous best friend. And he patiently waits for the day you’ll let him finally be yours.

From your perspective, Donghyuck shines even when the night overtakes the sky and possibly, the warmth in your heart bubbles across your chest. You can stay with him forever, until months turn into years. You can trust him like it’s you two against the world. He is your silly, charming, timidly benevolent best friend. And you’re slowly falling and hoping for the day you get to be his. 

“I’m not going to see him anymore. He’s not the one.” Hyuck blinks at you, full of confusion and shock.

“But you sounded so happy.” His voice gets lost in the stillness of the intimate atmosphere. 

“No, Hyuck. You make me happy and I’ll say it again for you to hear me. Nobody loves me like you do.” Reaching up, your hand caresses his cheek and he falls into your palm lovingly. His heart runs a mile, reaching the greatest high he’s ever going to feel. He hopes his eyes don’t deceive him, but the utter perfection on your face makes him feel whole.

You wish that Hyuck can teach you to love yourself the way that he loves you. 

“Take me home?” 

“How could I ever say no?”

thank you for being patient with me! its finally done and i will be going on a writing hiatus for a bit. housemating and ridin club will come out sometime soon, but i really need to step away from writing for a bit. please understand, thank you for reading :) 

[dewykth]

—emerald (m)

muses. bodyguard!namjoon + princess!reader words. 1.4k+ contains. smut, angst, stupid mistakes  notices. explicit sexual content, 18+ entry. this is pretty self-indulgent, really just an excuse to write angsty smut. enjoy!

God, this was such a bad idea.

That's what Namjoon kept telling himself as he traced his hands over your body and pulled you in for another passionate kiss. He had dreamed of this moment many times before, during his morning showers or in the depths of the night when he was horny and all he could think of was you. Namjoon had wanted this for so long … yet why did it feel so wrong? 

Namjoon pulls away from you, his heart thumping louder in his ears when you chase his lips. He stares at your disheveled form, admiring the way your lips are a swollen strawberry red and your eyes are blown black. You look breathtaking.

You pull him back, this time latching your lips onto his neck and sucking. A breathy moan breaks through Namjoon’s bitten lips. “Fuck.”

He feels you smirk against his neck, and then your hands are trailing up his thighs, landing right on his covered erection. Your name tumbles out of his lips when you start to palm him through his pants. 

This is so wrong.

Yet, Namjoon doesn't stop you from pulling his pants down, instead closing his eyes to enjoy the way your hands feel wrapped around his cock.

Your hand is pumping him quickly, using his pre-cum to make it easier. Your thumb goes over his slit, and Namjoon groans in surprise. 

“Oh my god, do that again.”

And you do, running your thumb much slower over his head again. His hand slides under the skirt of your emerald dress, pulling your underwear aside and tracing his fingers near your entrance. A whine escapes your mouth.

“You're fucking dripping, baby.” He says, almost in complete fascination. He spreads your juices all over your clit, and begins to rub his fingers in circles.

“Fuck,” you drop your head to his shoulders, slowing your ministrations on his cock. “please.” You lick at his neck and Namjoon grunts, sliding his finger down and into your heat. You squeeze around his fingers, letting out a small sigh.

“You're so fucking tight,” Namjoon dips another finger into your core and begins to pump them out of you. “shit, baby. You're gonna kill me with those pretty sounds.” his words only make you moan louder, lifting your head and bringing him in for another sloppy kiss.

Namjoon can only wonder how amazing it’ll feel to finally be inside of you. The thought makes him slip his fingers out of you, bringing them up to your face. You look at his finger, then back at him. And then, without breaking eye contact, you envelop your lips around his digits, and suck. Your tongue licks up every bit of your wetness, and when you pull back, Namjoon is staring wide eyed at his saliva coated fingers. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” he breathes. He wastes no time flipping you around, pushing you down on the mahogany desk and angling your ass up. He lines his dick to your entrance, teasing you with his head. 

“Nnngh,” you moan prettily, “Joon, please!”

“Please what, baby?” he questions innocently, enjoying the way you push your ass closer to him in an attempt to relieve yourself too much. 

“Please fuck me! Please, I’ve been good, please! Joon—” moans from both of you interrupt your pleading as Namjoon pushes himself into you, unable to resist his own growing desire to be inside of you. He stays still for a bit, savoring the way you seem to fit perfectly around him, enveloping him like you were made just for him. It all felt too good. Namjoon begins to brutally fuck you, snapping his hips against yours until only your moans and the sound of skin slapping on skin are filling your room. It’s lewd, messy, and so wrong. Even in his lust filled mind, the thought of getting caught threatens to overcome his mind. So, he grabs your hair, pulling you up to lay against his chest as he continues to chase both your highs. You're moaning loudly, throwing your head against his chest when he lifts your leg onto your vanity desk. This angle makes him sink further into you, and you both moan at the newfound deepness.

The room was hot and filled with the smell of your arousal, a layer of sweat built along his skin and yours. “Fuck, Namjoon�� nnngh, I–I’m c–close,” He brings his hand to your clit, rubbing in circles until you’re tightening around him, whining loudly as your orgasm overtakes your senses. The sudden tightness is too much, and Namjoon’s orgasm quickly follows suit, painting your walls in white, sloppily thrusting until he stops completely. You're both breathing harshly, dazed and attempting to recover from whatever the hell just happened.

It's as if everything that just transpired hits Namjoon square in the head and he slips out of you, leaving a trail of your cum mixed with his own. The sight of it sliding down your legs would have sent Namjoon into overdrive if it weren't for the fact that he felt he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

Fuck. How did he let it get this far? He was always able to remain collected around you, ignoring your teasing as much as possible, even if all he wanted to do was bend you over and teach you a lesson. But today, he had been at his wit’s end, giving in too quickly and throwing away all reason. Now it was all coming back to him.

You turn around, looking at him as he walks around the room, haphazardly gathering his clothes that were strewn around your large room. “What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.” he says, only glancing at you as he pulls his pants up, in turn missing the hurt that flashes across your face.

“Why?” you ask quietly, and it's only then that Namjoon stops dressing and looks at you. You seem smaller, afraid, folding into yourself yet still maintaining eye contact with him. The emotions floating in your eyes are too much for Namjoon, too much for him to think about, so he turns, picking up his coat.

“This was a mistake, Lady ____, and you know it.” The formal name makes him wince, especially after the intimate moments you had just shared, but he hides it as he slips on the last of his clothes.

You scoff, “A mistake? Are you joking?” You walk up behind him. “What is this really about, Namjoon?”

He turns back around, making sure to look into your eyes despite how much it hurt. “You're betrothed, Princess.”

“You and I both know I feel nothing but disgust towards that poor excuse of a man.” Even the mention of your fiancé painted a grimace on your face. Namjoon knew. Of /course/ he did. You spent hours some days just ranting about how much you despised the man your parents had set you up with. But he was rich, powerful, handsome and the prince of a neighboring kingdom. Everything Namjoon was not. Namjoon could never give you what he could with all the money and jewels he had bestowed upon his name. Namjoon wasn't what you deserved, he was sure no man could ever be enough for you, but at least your fiancé had luxuries and lavish trips to offer you. Namjoon had nothing.

“I wish I didn’t have these feelings, Joon,” you say quietly, crossing your arms and breaking eye contact. “but I do. And I know you feel the same way. Is that not enough?”

“My job is to serve and protect you, Princess. My feelings only serve to complicate things,” he lets out a broken sigh, clearing his throat in hopes of sounding more sure of his next words. “I believe it’s better if we forget this ever happened.”

Namjoon turns towards your door, but not in time to miss the way your face crumples in rejection. He sees the way your eyes water, falling to the opulent marble floor beneath you. Namjoon has never hated himself more. But, there was no other way. You had a kingdom to uphold, he would only get in the way.

“Please,” your voice comes out in a broken whisper, almost too small to catch if it weren’t for how perceptive Namjoon was of everything you did. “don't leave.”

He wishes he could take you into his arms and kiss your worries away, maybe he would, in a universe where you didn't belong to someone else. Where you weren't expected to take the throne and rule a realm with a powerful king by your side, someone Namjoon could never be.  So all he can offer, now, here, is— 

“I’m sorry.”

The door shuts.

© dewykth. all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, translate or modify.

[chwetuan]

Polarity - Jackson Wang x Reader (a)

1. Requested: uh normally i would put the exact request here but y’all know how tumblr is set up soooooo rip that post. this was supposed to be an idol!au but i’ve made it an up&coming!au because i no longer write idol!aus (anon) 

2. Summary: Polarity - When two opposite things are attracted to each other. Or, in which Jackson is on his rise to stardom, and he can’t let anything, even love, stop him from achieving his dream.

3. Warnings/Ratings: langauge, implied smut. career driven jackson makes for an unhappy ending :( 

4. A/N: 2 fics? in a row? mayhaps it’s because i hit 500 followers!!!!! thank you so much for your support. it means the world to me. i love you, seriously.

You can’t help but feel a bit bitter when you see him on tv.

Rationally, there’s a part of you that knows you should be happy for him. Happy to see him do what he loves, and happy to see him do it so well.

But the part of you that knows he left you behind stays bitter. No one talks about the emptiness that is left behind once a soulmate leaves you.

You would say it started the day you were born.

The little red string on your finger had always been a reminder that things in life were out of your control. Nevertheless, the little girl you were couldn’t help but fall in love with the idea that someone in the world was made just for you.

It was a little self-indulgent, you would conclude as you got older. What were the chances of you meeting your soulmate anyway?

You assumed that there couldn’t be any harm in wondering, in letting your mind conjure up fantasies and fairytales of the “what if”. After all, the universe had put it into play. But deep down, you thought it was tortuous how fate had tricked you into thinking that maybe, there was a possibility. Maybe there was a possibility for love. A possibility for forever.

However, on the other side of your soulbond, there was Jackson. And his perspective on the string around his finger was completely the opposite of yours.

He decided long ago that everything in life was never set in stone. Fate and destiny were barriers meant to hold people back, meant to trick people into believing that is just how it is. It was like being behind bars.

He hated the idea of soulmates. The idea that who you could love in this life wasn’t up to you. That it was predetermined, and if you never got the chance to meet them, you were forced to be reminded that they were out there somewhere.

So, he tugged, and pulled, and snipped. But despite all attacks, the string remained, and all he was left with was scars.

~~~

The earpiece you had in was buzzing with dialogue as you searched for contestant #18.

Working on the set of Next was stressful, and it could get especially emotional backstage when tensions were high between contestants and judges. The show itself was brutal - filled with teenagers and 20-somethings who were all talented and doing their best to prove that to the judges. And the world.

This last week of filming had been the absolute worst, and everything seemed to reach its peak tonight — the finale.

From 20 contestants, only 4 were left, preparing to perform their hearts out on stage in hopes of winning the grand prize: a record deal and $50,000 dollars.

The last two months had gone by in a breeze, and part of you was sad at the thought of having to part ways with some of your newly found friends. The other part of you was excited at the thought of the future, and the possibility of moving up within your own company after a successful gig.

However, you were grounded in the current moment, feet moving with purpose as your eyes caught the large red sign that read “WANG - #18” hung on the door at the end of the backstage hallway.

You knocked once, then twice, waiting anxiously for a reply, clutching to your clipboard.

When he answered, you opened the door and closed it behind you. He was standing in front of a vanity adjusting his microphone piece.

“Hi, I’m sorry if-“

Your words die in your throat as a sharp pain draws your attention to the string around your finger. Except, the string is no longer tied around your pinkie. Instead, it floats gently to the ground as a dull sting settles.

It all happens quickly - Jackson freezes, your eyes widen, and a choked sound of surprise leaves his lips.

“You?” The words are said with utter disbelief, and he steps forward without thinking before grabbing your hand and staring at your fingers.

You’re stunned into silence, dropping the clipboard as you tug yourself away from him.

~~~

Everything that happens in the next couple of hours passes you in a blur. You’re on autopilot, a feeling of emptiness settling deep in your chest as the show comes to a close. He wins - of course, he does, and the set is filled with tears and smiles and congratulations.

You can’t feel anything but the pain in place of your string.

You gather your things, hug some of your team members and thank them for their work. You swipe out one last time as you begin making your way down to the parking garage. As you start unlocking your car door, a desperate sound of your name echoes through the underground tunnel.

You pause, turning to see none other than Jackson himself. He stops a few feet away from you, clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt. The thought that he should be out somewhere celebrating fleetingly crosses your mind, but for now, all you can focus on is the sound of his voice when he asks:

“Aren’t we going to talk about this?”

~~~

Jackson makes it known from the start that if a relationship is what you’re looking for, you won’t find it in him. He’s got too much of his life ahead of him.

He’s got a new record deal, an album in the making, and a possible documentary on the way.

You don’t fit into Jackson’s plans, but you do fit into his bed.

A relationship isn’t what you get, but late nights, early mornings, and fleeting kisses seem to come with the package that is your not-relationship.

It’s that way for months. Nothing more than a late-night text, a call of convenience, and someone he knows will never tell him no.

Deep down, you want more, but you know that’s not part of the deal.

You crying when he makes headlines with his new girlfriend - a model, or actress, or something or the other - is not part of the deal.

You crying when Jackson tells you he’s leaving is not part of the deal.

His voice is soft as he sits across from you, wringing his hands and sighing as he watches you blink back tears that threaten to spill.

“Don’t do that, please.”

“What am I doing?” You rasp, throat tight from holding back the strain of rivers. “I’m not doing anything.”

You stand up, pulling on your shorts as you bunch your tank top in your hands.

His eyes trace your movements. “Where are you going?”

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, a rebel tear falling down as you gather your things. “Where am I going?” You scoff. “Jackson, I’m leaving.”

He stands from the bed, crossing over to you as he reaches for your forearm. “That’s not fair.”

You pull yourself away from him, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He follows you out of his bedroom door as you see the remnants of last night scattered across his apartment: takeout and wine glasses. You scan the room for your keys, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

He stands in the archway of the kitchen, watching you in your search and blocking you from leaving.

Dropping your bag in the middle of the floor, you let tears of frustration and months of pent up anger spill out. “You think this isn’t fair? I’ll tell you what isn’t fair, Jackson.” You spit out, turning to face him and stepping closer.

“What’s not fair is you saying that you don’t want me. Telling me our bond doesn’t guarantee a relationship, and that it sure as hell doesn’t guarantee your love.”

He watches you in silence. There’s nothing he can say - your words ring true and all he feels is regret beginning to settle in his chest.

It’s a broken sound, your voice. Unstable and cracking as you continue. “Then what? You play into my fantasy? For what reason?”

“To get me in your bed? To have someone to fuck when your girlfriend is out of town? Congratulations on your relationship, by the way.” Your words are bitter, of course, they are.

You pick up your bag and grab your keys.

He stays silent as your hand touches the handle of his front door. You turn to him, one last time. Your eyes demand his attention, and all he sees behind the tears is anger, and pain, and undeniable love.

“I hope everything goes well for you.”

You slam the door and a sudden emptiness washes over his body. He’s frozen to the spot he’s in, feeling his hands tingle with the feeling of being apart from you.

It’s all he feels - when he boards the plane, when he records his songs, when he performs on stage; when he eats dinner across from his girlfriend.

The sadness, the regret, and the guilt. They sting worse than the pain wrapped around his pinkie finger.

He’s empty, you’re gone, and there’s nothing he can do, because it’s his fault.

.

.

.

[ofsunshine-andrain]

Stranger Danger (M)

pairing: vampire taehyung x reader

genre: mild smut

word count: 2k+

warning: mentions of blood, baby girl kink 

a/n: my first attempt at writing smut :) there’ll be more parts to come!

Till this day, you would ask yourself how you managed to get yourself involved in such a deep and dark secret. Perhaps it was the alcohol that prevented you from thinking straight. Your intoxicated-self put aside all form of warning and indulged in what you thought to be a harmless one-night stand with a mysterious stranger. 

From across the bar, you spotted a man in a suit with an air of importance around him. In his hand, he held a glass of whiskey while engaging in a discussion with a group of six men. The topic of discussion seemed to be important as he had a frown forming in the middle of this temples. However, it disappeared as soon as he caught your gaze on him. 

Like a deer caught in headlights, you diverted your attention back to your date who had been talking endlessly for the past ten minutes. Your laughter to his lame joke made him make a move on you by placing his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You showed signs of being uncomfortable by moving his arm away but he only tighten his grip around you. Before you could verbally protest to your date, the stranger from across the bar interjected your date.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he stared at you deep in the eyes.

Your date was clearly irritated by his actions and proceeded to push the stranger away. Breaking eye contact with you, the stranger turned to your date and ask him to leave politely. Oddly enough, your date turned and headed for the exit without saying a single word to you. 

The stranger took the seat of your date and repeated his previous question. In the dimly lit bar you could see his eyes gleaming. He had the lightest pair of hazel eyes you have ever seen. It was mesmerizing as his eyes gave out an aura of mysteriousness with a tinge of danger. The scar on his right wrist only increased your curiosity. 

“I’ll have a gin and tonic.” you smiled at the stranger. 

Signalling the bartender, he ordered your drink. At the moment when your drink came almost immediately, you knew that the stranger in front of you was an important man. 

“What is a pretty girl like you doing with a man like that?” asked the mysterious man.

“My friend set us up.” you replied as you sipped your gin and tonic. “How about you? What brings you here?” you asked.

“I’m just hanging out with some of my friends.” he nods towards the group of six men across the bar. “when I caught a beautiful lady staring at me.” he continued with a grin.

“I was that obvious huh.” you replied as a shade of blush rushed to your cheek. 

“Do you want to dance?” he asked.

“Sure.”

He held your hand and led you into the middle of the dance floor. Feeling a bit adventurous, you test the waters by grinding your body against his. He reciprocates by holding you close to him. The whole time, the both of you never break eye contact. The connection you both shared felt so intense and strong. On the dance floor, body language spoke louder than words ever did. 

You wanted him and he wanted you as badly.

Before you knew it the both of you were at a hotel, barely able to keep your hands of each other. In the lift, he pushed the button to the highest floor and kissed you. It was was not a shy first time kiss but instead it was a kiss filled with impatience and hunger. His want for you showed in bulge in his pants that was growing harder by the second. 

When the elevator doors ding open, he held your hand and led you into a massive suite. The presidential suite was nothing like you have ever seen. A chandelier hung in the middle of the living room and there was a hot tub in the bathroom. You realised how little you knew about the stranger you were about to hook up with. Perhaps not knowing made it all a bit more fun. 

“You can wash up first if you want.” 

Before you entered the huge bathroom, you asked him for his name; embarrassed that you haven’t done so earlier. 

“Tae” was all his replied. You had no idea if that was his first or last name. Perhaps it was better that you didn’t anyway.

Shutting the door behind you, reality finally sinks in as you realised what you have signed up to do. This was not you at all. The you at that moment was not the same person who was nominated as valedictorian in university and was definitely not the same girl who had her first kiss at twenty. You couldn’t explain the feelings and emotions that rushed through you when you were with Tae. He made you feel as if you had the courage to do anything. 

You thank the gods for having a brazilian wax before tonight. You usually didn’t sleep with guys on the first date but Tae was an exception. The both of you probably wouldn’t see each other after tonight so why not go all the way. In just a bathrobe, you left the bathroom to find Tae sitting on the plush bed. On the side of the bed stood a room service trolley. He had ordered champagne, strawberries and chocolate. 

He got up and passed you a glass of champagne. With the sexiest gaze you have ever seen, he turns around and goes into the bathroom. It was as if he was trying to build up anticipation. If more than anything, you were definitely looking forward to what was to come. 

A while later while you were sipping on the champagne, he emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. His broad shoulders showed along with his chiseled chest. With each step he took towards you, your breath hitched and heartbeat quicken. 

He took the glass of champagne out from your hand as he closed the space between the both of you. You fell back onto the soft bed the both of you experimented with your lips. He bit gently at your lower lip earning him a soft moan at the back of your throat. The moan only stirred him to push at your buttons more. He wanted to know the things that got you off. He explored lower onto your exposed neck while leaving hickeys all over. 

With a pull of your bathrobe’s ribbon, you were exposed to him. In your most vulnerable and pure form, you felt as if you could trust him. Instead of pouncing on his prey, he took his own sweet time to find out what you liked. He enjoyed seeing the needy look on your face as he slowly tweaked at your nipples. Your hands found the sheets and gripped it tightly as he finally sucked on your sensitive nipples. 

Shortly after, he discarded your bathrobe across the room as he continued peppering kisses down to your stomach. With your permission, he moved lower and tested the waters by giving you a little lick. Your whole body reacted with a little shake and a moan. His fingers came to play as he widen your pussy lips to see all of you. When you least expect, he gave your clit a hard suckle which gave your body a jolt of pleasure. 

“You’re so wet.” he said as he swiped his fingers along your folds. He brought his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them. Seeing him do that caused a burning desire in the pit of your stomach. 

“Absolutely delicious” he commented which made you blush. You tug at the towel around his waist as he removed it. His cock sprung up after being free from the towel’s confinement. It was hard and crying for your attention. You wrapped your hand around his dick and pumped it slowly up and down. Crawling closer to get a better angle of his cock, you gave it kitten licks on the sensitive tip. A small moan came from him which made you sink your mouth fully on his cock. 

When the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, you swallowed. “You’re gonna make me cum if this goes on, baby girl.” he said as he pulled away from you. You got on your back as he positions himself. He looks you in eyes, as he teases you by rubbing his cock along your folds while bumping into your clit. His hazel eyes pulled you in and you wanted more as the burning desire in you increased.

“Please.” you cried in frustration. 

“Tell me what you want, baby girl.” he said as he stroked your cheek. 

“Fuck me please.” you begged. 

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” he said with a grin.

Without hesitation, he filled you full with his cock. You were more than wet enough for him to go in all at once, even making a dirty squelch sound. He pumped in you slowly, trying to find your sweet spot. On one particular hard stroke, you cried out in a loud moan. 

“Ah ha, found it.” he grinned. 

He buried his face into your neck as he starts to work up a fast rhythm. You hugged him tightly as your nails clawed on his back. He was hitting the right spot in you and you were about to lose it. His impending release was only stimulated from you tightening around him. 

He slipped his hand in between the both of you to rub on your clit. You screamed as it was becoming too intense. The wave of pleasure washed over you as you tighten around him, urging him to follow you after. As the both of you reached your highs, your eyes locked and you felt a strong and deep connection with him. His hazel eyes were not going to be something you would forget that easily. 

The intense pleasure made the both of you stay as you were for a while before he could gather some energy to get off of you. He disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a wet cloth to clean you up. 

“Have a good rest, baby girl.” he said.

Barely able to keep your eyes open, you sank into a slumber into dreamland. The next morning when the sun way shining high, you woke up from the best sleep you have had in the longest time. Last night you had a weird dream where you saw the stranger from last night; Tae drinking from a blood bag? However, the oddest part of the dream has to be when he looked into your eyes as he did it. Those hazel eyes sure were mysterious. 

You looked around the suite but Tae was no where to be found. Instead in his place you found a note which read “Sorry I had to leave early. Help yourself to some breakfast before leaving.” 

“Well that was how one night stands were anyway”, you thought to yourself.

After a cup of coffee, you left the hotel. With that, you left behind the memories of last night inside the suite. It wasn’t like you were going to meet him or do this anymore. Last night was definitely a one time thing. It wasn’t like you at all to act like that. 

//

Once in a while, unconsciously, your thoughts would drift to the night of your one night stand. All you could remember were those hazel eyes that were so alluring. No doubt, the sex itself was fucking amazing but what really spark your curiosity was Tae. Who is Tae? Is his name even Tae? Often enough, you would imagine his occupation and life based on that night but your guesses never seemed to feel right. 

//

Another Friday night passed and you were stuck in the office. Being in the corporate line you expected overtime but you did not expect to be working yourself to death in your late twenties. Finally at ten you decided to head home for a good bubble bath and to binge watching Netflix. 

The building’s car park was closed for maintenance which meant you had to park two blocks away. It seemed fine in the morning but at night it was just creepy. You walked as fast as you can towards your car while passing by several alleyways which scared you. 

That was when you heard a scream. It belonged to a female. You stopped to listen for a scream again but it never came. A rustle from a nearby alleyway made all the hair on your body, stand. The rustle continued and you followed the sound expecting to see a stray animal. 

Instead, you found yourself seeing a man crouching over a lifeless woman. His back was turned on so you couldn’t identify him. The woman in his arms was not moving and her eyes were closed. As you walked closer, you accidentally kicked an empty can which caused a sound. 

The man turned around and you saw the most baffling scene ever. There was blood coming out from the side of his lips. The lady on the ground had bite marks on her neck. Your whole body was telling you to run but your legs turned jelly. Perhaps the worst part was that you recognised the man.

Before you fainted in fear, all you could remember was seeing was a pair of hazel eyes. 

The same hazel eyes that you couldn’t forget.