#its my guilty pleasure pairing

[pleasetakethis]

That feeling when...

...a story just clicks in your mind. I wrote two false starts but the third one is The One™. I love this mood.

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | ch. i

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, slight actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, loverstoexesto ?, unrequited love

word count: 3,328

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, mention of gossip columns and unequal treatment of how oc is portrayed post-divorce, hint of differences between men and women in the business world, oc struggling to be professional, both care about each other and are not toxic but oc fell in love, oc has the need to groom him a little out of habit, talks about Bam, feat, Namjoon and Taehyung, and sexual content

sexual warnings: dom!jungkook, sub!reader, desk s*x, d*rty talk, oc is on bc, handjob, swearing, making out, neck kisses, clothed s*x, impulsive s*x, light praising, growling, some minor petnames (baby, Kook), mention of threesome, recalling of past sexual events

playing: Unkiss Me

a/n: uh…this one has been in my drafts and idk its kinda angsty but I decided I will share it. Enjoy! 🥰

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From the moment he stepped into your office, Jungkook could tell every ounce of color was drained from your face. All except for your puffy red eyes that is, which he knows you've been rubbing fervently to keep your tears from rolling down your cheeks.

He doesn't blame you for it though–you're his ex-wife.

Recent ex-wife that is.

For three years the two of you masqueraded as the perfect power couple; appearing completely in love to the public eye in hopes of forming an unshakable business partnership (transaction more like). You attended charity balls together, collaborated on several work projects, and attended countless corporate functions to establish both your presence in your respective industries.

That's right, you and Jungkook were in an arranged marriage and it would have flourished into a classic love story if it wasn't for one obvious detail–you're the only one that fell in love.

Despite all the times he's called you "stunning" when you dolled up for formal events or that you "feel so good" during late-night sex, Jungkook never truly loved you. He cared about you, did his best not to intentionally hurt you, and even tried loving you back; thinking he could fall for you with time.

But the most he could ever see you as is a friend, a beautiful friend, though a friend nonetheless. He knows how much it pains you, especially after you've held out hope that he'll want you the same way someday. This one embarrasses you the most which he wishes it wouldn't.

Well, Jungkook doesn't want to trap either of you in a loveless marriage any longer. So even if it means being the center of gossip columns for a while, he's giving you a divorce so you can find the right person to share your love with.

After all, you deserve it; you both do.

Today's day one of looking at one another as exes and it's bittersweet, to say the least. The only factor that would make this worse is if children were in the equation, but there aren't any.

"Thanks for letting me swing by __," he speaks first, doing his best to conjure up a genuine smile. The black floral button-up he's wearing suits him well and his smooth chest peaking out near the collar is far too tempting, yet you know better than to let your eyes linger.

"Of course," you answer and grab a small box from behind your desk. "These are 100% yours so I wouldn't keep them from you." Jungkook takes the box of belongings from your hands with slight hesitation. You're keeping a brave front for the sake of civility and professionalism.

He doesn't blame you for that either.

As a CEO of a large multinational corporation himself, Jungkook's no stranger to the age-old philosophy that that office is no place to let your personal woes get out of hand; you have a team to lead and a reputation to uphold. The latter is proving to be harder for you than him, however, being that the media is portraying you as some kind of she-devil, spinster, or worse of all—a cheater.

Jungkook plans to personally make sure those articles get removed from the public eye before the end of the week. (Not that he'll tell you though.)

"I still could have dropped by the house to pick these up if it'd been easier. I feel bad for interrupting your work day over a couple of old books, records, and dog toys." He watches you nod silently as he vocalizes the inconvenience of it all; he really doesn't have to but he does it anyway.

"No, it's alright. You haven't been to the house since you moved out, so I thought it'd be better if we met here instead." You pause to check the time. "If there's anything you think of that you might've forgotten later, just let me know. In the meantime, I have a meeting in twenty so..."

"He misses you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Bam, I mean." Jungkook throws the box under an arm and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through his camera gallery until he gets to one particular photo of a red and tan Doberman. "He hates the new place and all he does is sulk by the door."

Your heart's already struggling to settle down from the painful reality that the man you love is leaving you, let alone being reminded of another forced separation. Bam's the closest thing to a baby that either of you ever had and he was one of the few things that bonded you and your now ex-husband together.

Being Jungkook's dog, however, he couldn't stay with you. That means no more visiting the dog park, sneaking treats behind Jungkook's back, and snuggling together in the king-size bed after a stressful day.

"I'm sure he just wants his favorite chew toy that's been held hostage at the house," you joke lightly, thinking it simpler to spin the topic. It's similar to what Jungkook does when he uses flowery language to soften the cold hard truth of your divorce; that he doesn't love you and he can't ever. "Give Bam a lot of attention for me. I miss him too."

"Of cour—shit!" When Jungkook moves to slip his phone back into his pocket he loses his balance, causing the box with his belongings to spill out on your office floor. Naturally, you kneel down to help him clean up the mess. It's not until your fingers reach for the same item and come into contact with each other that you quickly retract your hand. "Sorry, did I shock you?" He asks gently and tosses the last item into the box before standing up.

"No, you didn't." You rise to your feet as well, until you're face to face with him. This time it's closer than before. His hooded eyes stare straight into yours and you can't believe it takes being inches from his face to notice how bloodshot his eyes are. "You look exhausted. You should go home and rest Kook." The petname is out before your brain tells you to stop.

Jungkook's eyes widen, the corner of his lip subtly quirking up for the first time since the start of the conversation. "Don't worry about me __. I probably get more breaks than you do. But thanks." He briefly glances at the ticking Snoopy clock behind you, a Christmas gift he gave you as a joke last year. "You still have that?"

You look over your shoulder at the small, Snoopy-shaped digital clock on your desk. Ten minutes until your next meeting. "It's cute and it makes for a great conversation starter with clients so I guess so. If you want me to give it ba—"

"Keep it," he interrupts. "Please, it was a gift and I'd like you to have it if you enjoy it." Jungkook gnaws on his lip before continuing. "Speaking of clients and business partners, I should make myself scarce now shouldn't I?"

"Yes. I do have that meeting soon." But once he leaves, neither of you is sure when you'll see the other again aside from the odd charity event. The Annual Winter Gala in December is one that particularly comes to mind.

Most high-ranking executives like yourselves attend the function to keep up appearances and to network with other professionals. Last year, you and Jungkook were the center of attention however now that you're divorced, you fear you'll be avoided like the plague—they always preferred Jungkook over you anyway.

"You're forming a new partnership with that actor, right? Kim Taehyung? I read an inkling about it online yesterday." He also read his whole biography too. The man is equally handsome as he is altruistic and kind.

"Nothing's signed and sealed yet. I'm sure you've heard that he's gotten dozens of other offers on the table. To be honest, I'm surprised you haven't nabbed him yet."

"Yeah, we don't need...wait sorry, let me rephrase that. We aren't ready for a new partner or merger yet."

You can read between the lines despite Jungkook's correction. His company is thriving more than yours in every way, so he doesn't need the help of a third-party endorser...like you. Well, you're not doing too shabby yourself and this isn't simply about fame and fortune you want to argue.

The head poking through your door stops you from following through on that last line.

"Mrs. Jeon—shit." Your secretary Kim Namjoon screws his eyes shut at his drastic misstep. "Ms. __, Kim Taehyung called and said he'll be a bit late due to unexpected delays during his filming today. He apologizes profusely but is on his way over now. Sajangnim," he bows at Jungkook respectively.

"That's fine, Namjoon, thank you. You can send him in whenever he gets here. Mr. Jeon was just about to leave and I had the rest of my day cleared."

"Of course. I'll let him know to come in." Your secretary nods and shuts the door. Jungkook shifts between his feet once Namjoon is out of sight, a habit he's picked up that tells you he has more to say.

"Was there anything else, Mr. Jeon?" You shuffle a few files on your desk, prepping for your meeting with Taehyung. At this point, you're not even looking at Jungkook.

"Mr. Jeon? I think I prefer when you call me Kook more," he mutters, allowing his line of sight to catch a glimpse of your lips. "Can I...kiss you? Before I go."

The question knocks the wind out of your lungs and you instantly lift your head up toward him. "Kiss me?" You gulp slowly, then shake your head. "No, I'd rather we not. Goodbye kisses aren't really my thing." You couldn't be a bigger liar, evident from the sudden churning in your gut. Having Jungkook's lips on yours was the best and worst moments of your entire relationship but you have to fight yourself....your innate desires that tell you to say yes.

"Okay, I understand. What about a hug?"

"Jungkook..."

"I'm sorry, I'm pushing. Thanks again for my stuff." He gestures at the box under his arm. "I hope your meeting with Kim Taehyung goes well. Maybe I'll see you both at the next Winter Gala." He makes a beeline for the door.

"Wait!"

Jungkook stills in his tracks as he watches you stride in front of him. He's unsure what you stopped him for until your hands reach out towards his shirt collar, smoothing the delicate material down. A light smile plays on his face as you do this, though he says nothing aside from a simple 'thanks'.

"It was bothering me the whole time." You finish fixing his collar and peer up into his Bambi eyes. Out of all the potential suitors, you wish Jeon Jungkook didn't become your husband. It's not like you got to keep him or anything.

Jungkook once again flickers his gaze toward your barely parted lips. And this time, you do the same for him. Before either of you have time to back out you lean forward and kiss him.

It's a hard kiss too. Painful but so inviting that neither of you pulls away.

With his free hand, Jungkook snakes a hand around your waist to hug you close. Having his fingers pressed against the small of your back is so familiar and all you can do is deepen the kiss.

You're obviously not the only one that gets a sense of pleasure from this because, in a matter of seconds, the box from under Jungkook's arm falls to the ground. He then places his second hand on the side of your neck and jawline which you lean into, exposing the other side of your neck.

"Jungkook," you gasp when his lips attach themself to the soft skin, sucking lightly. His teeth come out and nip too. "Wait, we can't do this, we shouldn't. Taehyung, he'll be here soon."

"That would have sounded so convincing if you didn't just moan the words, baby." He walks you backward until you're forced to sit atop your mahogany desk.

"Don't call me that." You allow him to push up your pencil skirt and spread your thighs until your panties are the only material he sees. You decided to go with black lace today, his favorite now that you think about it.

"Did you—"

"No, they weren't for you."

A brief growl leaves the man's rose-tinted lips. "In that case, we don't need them." He places both hands on your hips and brings you into another kiss, messier than before. His tongue shoves between the seam of your lips to lick every crevasse he can. He hasn't kissed you like this for months and to be brutally honest, he's missed it as much as you.

Jungkook hasn't been with anyone else since marrying you either, which means he's completely adjusted to your body, your preferences, and what turns you on. The same applies to you so while he's busy shoving his tongue down your throat, you palm his half-harden bulge through his trousers.

"Mm," he groans and bucks his hips into your hand. You smile at how well you've managed to draw a response from him. With a little burst of confidence, you hastily move to unbuckle his pants. "What are you doing?" He mumbles between kisses.

You decide not to answer, preferring to reach inside his trousers to take his length out. You make sure to pump it a few times until he's fully hard. Jungkook has a gorgeous dick, and that takes a lot for you to admit.

"Fuck, that's it." He says with gritted teeth, now watching your hand as it moves up and down his cock. "Get me how you want me."

"We don't have much time." You slide your panties down your legs and spread your thighs wide apart, which makes Jungkook's eyes dilate about 10 meters. "Fuck me, please." One last time. Make love to me one last time.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom."

"It's okay, I'm on birth control. As long as you're still clean then its fine."

"I am. I got tested recently. But are you sure you want this?"

You glance at his pulsating length, tip leaking with pre-cum, and swallow hard. "Hurry."

"Fuck, okay." Jungkook wastes not another second and guides you flat on your back, his hands resting on either side of your body. The coolness of your desk has you shiver slightly. He then urges you to raise your legs until they can wrap loosely around his slim waist. And as if second nature, you link your arms around his neck as he eases him into you. He's able to bottom out without much effort thanks to how wet you've become.

"Oh god." Your back arches off the surface of your desk as Jungkook thrusts into you. They're only practice thrusts at first to get you re-adjusted to his size, yet the pleasure zipping down your spine already has your eyes rolling up.

You shouldn't be doing this at all. Your conscious whispers to again to which you blindly dismiss. You'll enjoy it now and tomorrow, start a new—another lie you tell yourself.

"Fuckfuckfuck, you're so wonderful for me," he chants while pushing his cock in and out of you, the speed of his movements picking up to an insane rate. Jungkook never had an issue with quickies so he's likely in his element now. "You know what this reminds me of?" He cocks a smirk and kisses down your neck.

"Hm?"

"That time when we were abroad for a weekend conference. Remember when we stopped at my second office to pick up some files? You were so horny that day that you pushed me into my chair and demanded that I let you ride me. It took the wind right out of my sails to see you like that, so confident and in control." He prys apart the top button of your blouse until he can slide the material down your shoulders. He doesn't take it off completely, favoring the chance to place kisses on your newly exposed area instead.

"I was beyond stressed that day. It was the first time I had to speak at that conference and you looked so good with your freshly slicked back hair. I couldn't stop myself—oh fuck! Right there Kook, don't slow down. Please." Jungkook grunts at the use of his petname and fucks you rougher, sweat forming around his forehead as his dark hair dangles messily over his eyes.

You manage to sneak a glance at the time on your Snoopy clock between thrusts. "Shit, I need to come soon, or Kim Taehyung's never going to agree to do business with me." The man laughs and buries his head on your shoulder.

"You never know, he could be really into threesomes."

"Fuck! Don't joke about that." You claw at his back and surprise both of you with the unexpected clenching of your pussy.

"You're right, I take it back," he groans and continues to snap his hips. "Looks like he's not the one who wants a threesome after all, considering your body's response to the suggestion. You wanna ask him if he walks in?" He whispers in your ear and you're embarrassed that your cheeks burn at the thought.

Of course, Kim Taehyung was sexy and you've rehearsed to yourself dozens of times not to let yourself get any crazy ideas about him. Still, one unrequited love is enough for you; Taehyung wouldn't want a divorcee. You shake the train of thought before it has time to go any further. "Make me come, Kook. Need you to finish too. It's not just Taehyung who could walk in at any second."

Jungkook grunts and continues to thrust into you, bouncing you up and down his thick length as the desk shakes underneath you. He feels you getting closer and closer by the sporadic clenching of your walls squeezing him. A big part of him doesn't want this to end but it has to....he doesn't love you. He only wants to make you feel good before he has to say goodbye. Both of you come just before Namjoon calls your office phone, giving you a heads-up that Taehyung's about to enter your office.

Jungkook shoves his pants back on while you button up your blouse and fold over your skirt. You decided to shove your underwear in your bag with the lack of time. No one has any business digging in there anyway.

"How do I look?" You turn around to get a quick once-over from Jungkook but he's already out the door. Now the person standing in front of you is Kim Taehyung who has nothing but the most genuine smile.

"You look lovely as always Ms. __. I'm so sorry I'm late by the way. I feel terrible about it so I brought you these." Taehyung whips out a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. "Hope you don't mind that I did a little research on you ahead of time. I found out these have a special place in your heart."

You smile and accept the bouquet with thanks. As you set them on your desk, a messages comes through your phone. You manage to give a quick look.

Unknown Number: Sorry I had to duck so fast! I know it looked rude but Taehyung was already opening the door and you were dressed so I thought it'd be better if I left. Hope you're meeting goes well! And thanks for everything today ;) if you need anything, you have my number.

You flip your phone over and invite Taehyung to have a seat. Business is business, and you have to carry on even if your heart has completely sunk to the ground. Kim Taehyung is sweet anyway, so you'll enjoy his company.

Too bad you don't realize how much he enjoys yours as well.

a/n: so, yeah... there's a potential for our Jk to actually love oc and not realize it but either way he does care about her (despite the impulsive sex). And yes, taehyung likes oc... it's like a double unrequited love 😔 okay bye lmk what you think, thank you! 😘

Also, lmk what you think about jk in this poll!

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[iuchamjohta]

Taming my stepmother ft Seohyun

Word count: 4130 (Seohyun X !Malereader)

Tags: Lots of BDSM. (I decided then from now on I Shall not include much in the tag so the story is a surprise unless is heavy kinks) See end for more notes!

You have always admired your stepmother Seohyun, for her strength and resilience. After your father passed away when you were a teenager, your mom embraced the challenges of single motherhood with unwavering resilience. Despite working long hours and managing the household alone, she had provided you with a loving and stable environment.

While assisting your mom with some household chores and tidying her room one day, you come across an old, dusty box hidden underneath her bed. A faded white paper on top bears the words “DO NOT OPEN.” Intrigued by the potential secret it might contain, you decide to open it and discover a collection of tapes, dated from several years ago. As you delve deeper into the box, you find a small key nestled at the bottom. Recognizing it as the key to a locked cabinet in your mom's room—a cabinet she had always kept secured—you feel a surge of curiosity. Although you had never questioned the reason for its lock, your interest is now piqued. You walk over to the cabinet, inserted the key, and unlocked the door. To your astonishment, you find an array of items that you can barely believe—whips, floggers of various kinds, ropes, clamps, anal beads, and an assortment of BDSM toys, some of which you’ve never seen before. Overwhelmed, you quickly close the door and lock it. “Son is everything okay?” you hear Seohyun call from the living room, reacting to the loud noise of the cabinet shutting. “Yes, everything is fine, just finishing up with the last box,” you responded. Your curiosity about the tapes intensifies, and, seizing a few of them, you tuck them into your clothes before sliding the box back under the bed.

That night, driven by a mix of curiosity and unease, you decided to examine one of the tapes found in the attic. Using an old player, you started the tape, only to be jolted by the sight of your mother in a completely unexpected role. The film reveals Seohyun as a former adult actress, in it was the nastiest porn scene you have ever seen. She was tied up and suspended by ropes. A string of rope was tightly bounded her body as if it was a harness, squeezing her huge breast tightly together, and her nipples had a pair of clamps on them. Some of the ropes were digging into her crotch. You see several men around here swinging flogs onto her perfect pale skin, marking them in red. What shocked you the most, was that despite the rough treatment, your stepmom’s face was contorted with pleasure, her moans were not those of rejection but encouragement of their rough treatment. Seeing this was a stark contrast to the reserved and conventional life she leads now.  As the scenes unfold, you were confronted with a side of Seohyun you had never imagined, seeing her in a vulnerable and provocative light. Yet, despite it, you noticed your cock becoming raging hard, you were incredibly turned on by the scenes before you. Reaching for your cock, you gave it a few long hard strokes, as you imagined yourself being the dominant one, in control of her. In your head, your stepmom, will be all tied up and submissive and listening to everything that you commanded her to do. You envision her pale skin turning all red as you flogged her hard, and her body writing in pleasure as you stretch those big tits of hers. As you delve deeper into this guilty sinful pleasure, your hand began to stroke faster. With a few more strokes, you reached your orgasm and exploded hard, cum coating your entire hand. Cleaning up and slumping back into your bed, you felt a sense of guilt surge you. I mean this was your stepmom that you were talking about. But the imagery of her heaving breast and desperate moans, made you incredibly aroused. You knew you had to tame her and remind her of the pleasures of her former glory, and that was what you were going to do. With that you drifted into bed.

The next few days were tough. Ever since finding out about your mom’s hidden past, you couldn’t see her in the same light. The woman who had always been your rock, your unwavering source of support and warmth, now seemed like a complete slut in your head. It was as if a veil had been pulled back, revealing a side of her that was entirely foreign to you. “How’s school so far”. Your mom asked. “Erm… great, exams are coming up soon” You replied avoiding eye contact. She was wearing a casual white tee, that outlined her voluptuous breast perfectly, which was clearly distracting you from the conversation. You replayed the scenes in your head of the tapes, of those perfect breast being played with and soon you feel the tightening of your pants. “Son… Son!” her voice knocked you out of your trance. “Is everything alright, you seemed zoned out”. “Yes, just tired from rushing my projects” You smiled gently. “Do remember to take good care of yourself, she pats your head and heads off to do the household chores”. With that you head over to your room, your boner raging hard. You took one of the VHS players, played it and jerked off. As you imagined those full breasts enveloping your shaft, you sped up your strokes and busted another load. In your post-nut clarity, you drafted out an amazing plan, a way to give your mom the pleasure you so craved in her AV days. You want to make her your plaything and bring her back to that world of pleasure and pain.

Since your father’s passing and his subsequent remarriage, you knew your mother had been struggling with loneliness and a lack of intimacy. You were aware that she had no outlet for her needs and was feeling increasingly isolated. You devised a plan to subtly seduce her. Over the next few days, you walked around the house shirtless and only in your boxers. The outline of your cock could clearly be traced as it strains against your boxers. You found yourself intentionally brushing against her from time to time, creating moments where she would feel your hard strain more acutely. It seemed your plan was having an effect, as you noticed her glances lingering around your lower body. Occasionally, you could sense her nervousness and unease. You would also bring out random conversations asking her about her past, which she would always change the topic into something else, saying she worked with many clients in the past and her work was complicated to explain.

One night, you were strolling through the hallway, wanting to get a quick drink, when you hear a very soft but muffled moans. Tracing the voice, you followed it to see your mom’s room, slightly ajar. The soft moans coming from within gets a little louder, and hearing that your cock stirs in your pants. Peeking inside, and there she is, Seohyun your beautiful stepmom, her glorious body in full display. She was naked and touching herself. Her long, slender legs are spread wide, and her busty tits heave with each breath. Her eyes are closed, and her full lips are parted as she moans softly. Your plan had finally come to fruition. You enter the room, closing the door behind you, ensuring your presence is unknown, standing in front of Seohyun, getting a closer look at her enticing beauty. Seeing it in person was way better than the videos, her beautiful pale skin, the full mounds that you had jerked yourself off to constantly, her well-trimmed pussy and even her puckered hole formed a beautiful rosebud shape. As she continued to rub her fingers up and down her slit, you see her becoming increasingly wet, her juice glistening on her folds.

“Hey mom” you whispered. Seohyun's eyes fly open, and she gasps, a mix of surprise and embarrassment on her face. "Oh my god! Y/N, I-I didn't hear you come in. Please, I..." She stammers, trying to cover her naked body with a nearby cushion. You chuckle, a deep, seductive sound. "It's okay, mom. I couldn't help but notice your door was open, and I heard those moans. You don't need to be embarrassed.” You walk over to one of the VCD players in her room, before inserting one of the tapes and playing it. Seohyun's eyes fly open, and she gasps, a mix of surprise and embarrassment on her face. “In fact, I think it's time we explored those moans a little further, don't you?” “What….” Before she could finish her sentence, the video started playing, making her realise that her deep hidden secret has been exposed. Seohyun's eyes widen as she realizes your intent, and a mix of emotions flits across her face—excitement, hesitation, and lastly….. a tinge of pure lust. Her body reacts to the video, as she remembers her former days, how she was so deliciously used by many people. She was secretly throbbing with excitement. "I-I don't know about this, Y/N. we can’t do this, I’m your mother.” She tries to protest. “Nonsense!” You used one of your fingers and swiped against her throbbing snatch and brought it up to her face “Look at how wet you are from watching your own videos, Your body remembers the pleasure it felt, and I'm going to remind you just how good it can be” You said with certain dominance in your eyes as your other hand reached underneath her bed to pull out the box hidden underneath.

Seohyun bites her lip, her hesitation clear, but the fire in her eyes tells you she wants this. “I… I am not sure about this”. You ignore her, walking towards the cabinet and unlocking it, before taking a few equipment that you liked.  "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you," you assure her, a devilish grin on your face. You produce a silk scarf from your pocket and approach Seohyun, who sits on the edge of the couch, her heart racing. Gently, you bind her wrists together, tying the scarf securely. She lets out a soft whimper as you restrain her, her breaths heaving with anticipation. “I know you have been lonely, sexually frustrated mom, unable to relief yourself, trust me for just one night. I can make you feel great again” Upon hearing that, her walls of resistance crumbled. Slowly she started to give in to the situation and let you take control. "That's it, let the submissive side of you take over," you encourage, running your hand gently over her soft hair.  Then, you produce a blindfold, a soft cloth to block her vision. "This will heighten your other senses, Seohyun. Just focus on your body and the sensations I'll be giving you." You changed your way of addressing her to a first-name basis, to allow her to settle into the atmosphere. She nods, her breath quickening as you securely blindfold her. Seohyun is now completely at your mercy, and you can see the realization of her vulnerability on her face.

You begin by trailing soft kisses down her neck, nipping at her sensitive skin with your teeth. Your hands roam her body, squeezing her full breasts, pinching her erect nipples between your fingers. Seohyun gasps and moans, the blindfold and restraint heightening the sensation."Mmm, yes, that feels so good," she purrs, her head falling back as you suck and bite at her sensitive neck. Your mouth continues its journey, kissing and licking down her body, paying attention to her sensitive nipples. You take one hard peak into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around it as you twist and pull the other with your fingers. Seohyun bucks her hips, thrusting her chest towards your mouth, craving more. “Please, she begged, don’t tease me”. Seeing her completely given in made you incredibly arouse. You chuckle against her skin, the vibration sending shivers down her spine. "Patience, Seohyun. We're just getting started." With that, you continue your path downward, kissing and licking her flat stomach, heading straight for her dripping wet pussy. You breathe hotly against her swollen lips, teasing her, before running your tongue slowly up her slit, tasting her sweet juices. Seohyun cries out, her hips bucking as she tries to grind herself against your mouth. "Oh fuck! Yes, right there” You gladly oblige, delving your tongue deep into her folds, lapping at her nectar as your thumbs pull her sensitive lips apart, exposing her clit. You suck and nibble at her bud, circling it with the tip of your tongue, driving her wild. Seohyun is writhing beneath you, her bound wrists pulling at the scarf as she cries out in pleasure. "Yes, yes! Oh my god, I'm gonna cum. Don't stop, please don't stop!" But you do not give her what she want and stopped. “What… why” She protested. Grabbing her tits harder this time, you landed an open-handed smack on them. "You're mine tonight, slut. Remember that you only get to cum when I say so” you whispered, your hot breath tickling her ear. “Rule number 2, you will address me as Master, is that clear?” You landed another slap on her tits, leaving a reddened hand mark on them. The sensation was like a sharp tickle, making her body jerk slightly causing Seohyun to moan. “Yes master.”  “Tonight is your first training, you will cum with only having your tits played with.” You continued, delivering strikes in a random pattern, never letting Seohyun anticipate where the next one would land red marks on her fair skin, but the pain was always fleeting, turning to pleasure almost instantly. "You like that, don't you, you little slut? These tits were made to be played with, and I plan to play all night." Your voice was deep and commanding, sending a shiver down Seohyun's spine.

Grabbing the pair of clover clamps, you rolled her hardened tits slightly, stretching it a little before attaching the clamps to them, causing Seohyun to gasp and arch her back. The clamps bite into her sensitive flesh, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her pussy. "Oh, fuck, master... It feels so good," she whispers, her breath coming in short gasps. You reach for the rope and begins to bind her breasts, wrapping the rope tightly around them and pulling it taut. Seohyun feels her breasts being pushed together, the ropes digging into her sensitive skin, her pale shade turning slightly purple. It's a delicious pain that blends with the pleasure from the clamps, sending waves of sensation throughout her body. You stand back to admire your handiwork, the sight of Seohyun's bound and clamped tits made your cock twitch with desire. The clamps were connected by a middle and chain and giving the chain a sharp tug, you watched it stretch her beautiful tits and as Seohyun's body jolts in response. "You like that, don't you, slut? Feeling your tits being used. Hold this in your mouth and don’t you dare drop it, you said placing the chain in her mouth” This forced her tits to be constantly tugged upwards, causing her to moan as she tries her best to keep it in her mouth.  You continued to gently flick and tug at the clamps, making her nipples even harder and causing her to squirm. Then you start to massage and squeeze her breasts, using your thumbs to circle her areolas. Seohyun moans, her head tossing from side to side as you continue to play with her sensitive tits. “Such sensitive nipples” You whispered.

You reached for a flogger, the soft ends trailing across Seohyun's bound breasts and making her shiver. You tease her with light strokes, the flogger tickling her sensitive skin and making her squirm. Then, you land a sharp blow, the impact sending a jolt of pain and pleasure straight to her clit. "Oh, fuck!" Seohyun cries out, her body convulsing. You continue the onslaught, landing blows on her breasts and enjoying the way they jiggle with each strike. You between gentle strokes and sharp ones, keeping Seohyun on the edge, never knowing what to expect. "Please, master... I'm so close," Seohyun pleads, her body trembling. "Not yet slut. I am going to edge you; make you beg for your release." You continue the flogging, your cock throbbing with each strike as he watches Seohyun's body writhe in pleasure. Her moans fill the room, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Finally, you placed he flogger down and releases the clamps, causing Seohyun to cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain. Her sensitive nipples throb, begging for more attention. Which you do not disappoint. Seohyun desires were soon satisfied as she felt something new touch her skin—something cold and waxy. It was a candle, and you dripped the hot wax onto Seohyun's chest, just above her breasts. Aiming it now at her nipple, you let the hot wax drip directly onto it causing Seohyun cried out, the sensation unlike anything she'd felt before. The wax cooled quickly, forming a hard shell on her sensitive skin.  You decorate her beautiful tits with the wax. Each time it hardens in a few seconds. You intend to continue this process, before flicking it off piece by piece to reveal her marked skin underneath. You dripped more wax, this time on her other breast, creating a contrasting pattern of hot and cold. Seohyun bit her lip, the sensation overwhelming. The hot wax caused her to flinch, but the feeling of it cooling and hardening on her skin was strangely satisfying. She felt vulnerable, yet incredibly aroused, as if her breasts were on display for your pleasure.

 "Now, be a good girl and stay still. This part requires precision." You then took a step back, and Seohyun heard the soft whoosh of the flogger again. But this time, it wasn't her breasts that felt the strike, it was the hardened wax. The impact caused the wax to crack, sending shards flaking off her skin. Seohyun moaned, the sensation of the cracking wax sending shivers down her spine. It was like a build-up of pleasure that was suddenly released, leaving her breathless. "Oh, fuck... that feels so good," she whispered. You smiled, pleased with Seohyun moans and begging. You continued the wax play, dripping more onto Seohyun's breasts and belly, creating an intricate pattern of hot wax that soon cooled and hardened. With each strike of the flogger, you strategically cracked the wax, slowly revealing Seohyun's sensitive skin underneath. Seohyun was in a state of pure bliss, her body on fire with desire. The sensation of the wax flaking off her skin, coupled with the constant, random strikes of the flogger, was pushing her closer and closer to the edge. "Please... I need... more," she begged. You obliged, intensifying the sensations. You dripped more wax, this time letting it run down Seohyun's body, onto her stomach and thighs, creating a sensual trail of heat. The flogger followed, cracking the wax as it went, sending waves of pleasure through Seohyun's body. As the wax play continued, Seohyun felt herself getting closer to the edge. Her breasts were on fire, the sensitive nipples aching for direct attention. Her pussy was dripping wet, and she could feel her juices flowing down her thighs. She had never felt so deliciously tortured, and she knew that you were in complete control of her pleasure. "Please, master... I'm begging you... I need to cum," Seohyun pleaded, her voice hoarse with desire. "Not yet my slutty pet. We haven't even gotten to the best part yet," You teased, her voice full of promise. Seohyun whimpered, not sure how much more pleasure she could take. But she trusted you to take her to new heights, to show her things she had never experienced before. Grabbing the clover clamps again, you attached it to her highly sensitive nipples, this time there was a twist, you have attached weights to them.  Seohyun didn't have to wait long to feel the effect of the weights. As she breathed, the clamps moved slightly, tugging on her nipples and sending jolts of pleasure through her body.  She whimpered, feeling herself get even wetter, her pussy clenching with need. “Cum” The combination of nipple torture, wax play, and direct stimulation was too much for Seohyun, and she came hard, her body shaking with the force of her orgasm. You continued to rub her clit through the powerful climax, prolonging the pleasure and ensuring that Seohyun was satisfied to her core.  She had just orgasm from only have her tits played.

“Now, get on your knees, I want to use those tits of yours” Without giving her much rest to come down from her high, you demanded as you began to undo your pants, freeing your thick, hardening cock. Pre-cum glistens at the tip, a testament to your arousal. Stepping closer to Seohyun, your cock pressed against her bound breasts. Wrapping them around your shaft, you grabbed Seohyun by the shoulder, and pushed forward, her breast engulfing your cock between them. You slide up and down, the rough rope rubbing against your shaft as her soft tits envelop him. The tight bound of her tits, served to only tighten the grip it has on your cock, causing you to grunt loudly, while guiding her movement. "Fuck... That's it, Seohyun. So good," Seohyun moans, the sensation of your hard cock between her breasts is driving her wild. You remove the tie from her Seohyun wrist to allow more room to please you. She squeezes her tits together, loving the feel of your veiny cock sliding between them. Her nipples, still sensitive from the clamps, brush against your shaft, sending sparks of pleasure through her body. You fuck her tits harder, your hips thrusting as you enjoy the soft, warm flesh surrounding your cock. You watched as your cock disappears between her breasts, the sight driving you to the edge.

"Oh, fuck, Seohyun... I'm close. So, fucking close," you grunt, your breath coming in sharp rasps. Seohyun quickens her pace, eager to please you. She wants you to find release, to paint her tits with your hot cum. Sticking out her tongue, she ensured the soft flesh met your tip each time your cock resurfaced. The combination of her tight tits, and the softness of her tongue drove you to the edge. Your body tenses as you reached your final climax. With a final, powerful thrust, you cum, your hot seed spraying across Seohyun's bound tits and dripping down her cleavage.  Seohyun's breath is ragged as she looks down at your cum coating her bountiful breasts. The sight of your white, sticky fluid glazing her pale skin sends a jolt of excitement through her. “Clean it up”. She knows what's expected of her and leans forward, eager to please you. With her tongue, she teases the sensitive tip of your cock, tasting the remnants of your release, before she moves to her breasts. She wants to devour your cum, every drop, and show you, her appreciation. Her tongue flicks out, licking and lapping at the sticky mess, swirling around her nipples, savoring the mix of your cum and her sweat. "Mmm, you taste so good," she moans, as she cleans your cum off her tits. "I love the taste of your release on my skin." Her tongue works feverishly, making sure to get every drop, before she sucks her nipples into her mouth, one after the other, nibbling and teasing them with her teeth. You watch with satisfaction as she indulges in her creamy treat, knowing that she's hungry for more. Her passion and devotion excite you, and you can't wait to use her body for your pleasure again. Her breasts are heaving as she works, her nipples becoming harder and more sensitive from the attention.

"Such a good girl," you praise, reaching out to tug on her hair, making her look up at you. "But before we continue, I want to make sure your tight little asshole is ready for what's coming." Seohyun whimpers in anticipation as you release her hair and reach for a small bottle on the bedside table. You pour some slick lube onto a butt plug which has a purple jewelled heart attached at the base. Slowly, you begin to push it inside, feeling her body resist at first, then relax as you go deeper. “Keep this in, we will continue the session tomorrow.” Untying her off everything, you do your post session treatment, treating her with tender loving care before putting her to bed, excited for your next session with her. (To be continued…) A request by @littleprinces ! The author wanted to do part 2 of this so you can find part 2 on his/her profile eventually! As always leave comments, likes , rebloggs if you enjoyed it! Request (selective) /Commission box is still open! Pm me for commission related! Check out my other pieces if you havent! Masterlist will be out in awhile

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Life Lessons || CL16

Summary: After an embarrassing secret is shared Charles accepts some help to learn a few things about female pleasure.

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fem rec oral, sex ed

WC: 2.9k

Charles - The Lazy Lover - Leclerc. That was what the wag gossip pages all shared in their stories and Charles’ cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he read the latest caption. The supposed ‘inside source’ had recounted the disappointment his past girlfriends had found in Charles’ bedroom activities. They cited him as ‘vanilla’ and ‘a missionary man’, but none of those hurt more than the sentence that described his oral capabilities as ‘nonexistent’.

He didn’t think he was bad in bed, and he wouldn’t have called himself selfish, but he couldn’t help asking some of his exes for the truth. Each of them denied sharing the information to the gossip pages, but they all replied with the same consensus.

Charles chased his own pleasure and they didn’t feel comfortable telling him what they needed to reach their own high too. He felt guilty, wondering how many of the relationships would have ended differently or not ended at all if he had paid more attention - to their sex life as well as the rest. He certainly hadn’t been the most attentive in any aspect of his last relationship with Alexandra.

“Don’t laugh,” Pierre started the conversation seriously, something that immediately caused concern for Charles. “I know someone who knows someone that can help you. She’s a private tutor, of sorts.”

“Do you know how fucked I would be if news broke I went to a hooker?”

“She’s not a hooker,” Pierre assured him as he wrote an address down on a napkin and slid it across the table. “It's already taken care of, 8pm tomorrow.”

Charles looked at the address and sighed. “This is in Paris.”

“Of course, City of Love, my friend.” Pierre finished his coffee and rose from the table, pushing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Charles mumbled, still uncertain about the whole idea of having a stranger teach him how to be a better lover. “I guess.”

Later that afternoon, Charles received an email with a rather detailed questionnaire about his experiences in the bedroom as well as a small dining and drinks menu to select from. He figured he couldn’t be any more embarrassed than he already was and took his time to honestly answer the questions.

—

Charles debated turning around at least three times as he climbed the stairs in a modern apartment building. He had caught a glimpse of the Eiffel Tower from the stairwell window and paused as the lights danced along the metal, wondering if he was in the right place. He was still in half a mind that Pierre had sent him to a brothel, but this didn’t fit the stereotype he had in his head of a Parisian whorehouse. He definitely imagined more Moulin Rouge lighting and seedy alleys.

He reached the 3rd floor and found only one door on the landing, his finger barely able to aim for the doorbell with its shaking. He didn’t know what to expect when the handle started to turn, but it certainly wasn’t a bright welcoming smile and the delicious smell of fresh baking.

“Hi, you must be Charles,” you greeted your newest client. “Come in, please.”

You could tell he was nervous as he hesitantly stepped inside and his eyes scanned your home, taking in the artwork on the walls and the candlelit table with two place settings. You tried to ease his mind with a quick introduction about who you were while you poured him a glass of wine.

“Help yourself,” you said as you took a seat and waved a hand to the fresh bread and cheeses he had selected from the menu. He took a breath and sat down opposite you, the candlelight catching the sharp jawline and angular features of his handsome face. “So, Charles, what is your goal? What do you want to get out of this?”

“I, uh, to be able to please a woman?”

“You don’t sound sure,” you teased as you watched him spread an olive tapenade over the fresh toasted bread.

“No, no, I am,” he said a little more forcefully before sighing. “I didn’t realise I was…bad…in bed, until recently.”

“Well, rest assured, we will change that. But first, tell me a bit more about yourself, there’s only so much I can learn from the questionnaire.”

—

Charles began to relax the more he shared. He knew he was protected by the NDA you had sent with the rest of the paperwork and the anonymity that came with baring his ugly truths to a stranger helped to ease the discomfort of what he was doing. He still wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing but your encouraging smile kept his words flowing, like he was finally doing something right.

He hadn’t realised how quickly time had passed until the grandfather clock in the entrance chimed the hour and he saw he had eaten his fill of the meal he chose.

His overnight bag still waited on the hall table, the list of what to bring had been ticked off and double checked. His calendar had been cleared for the weekend and his phone turned off. Everything he needed to remember could be jotted down in the small journal that sat beside his used cutlery.

“So, um, what happens next?” he asked as his eyes darted to the bedroom door.

“Whatever you feel comfortable with, Charles. Come,” you rose from the table and grabbed his bag, taking it to your bedroom as he trailed behind. His feet rushed before slowing down as he caught his own eagerness and frowned to himself. It was common. There was a blurred line between of uncertainty on whether they were here to get laid or here to learn.

You placed his bag beside the large desk that covered one wall of your room and pointed to the computer chair where he took a seat. “Every woman is different and there isn’t a universal button to make us come. But, by understanding the physiological functions and anatomy, I will teach you the tools to find the right spots to make her fall apart.”

“A-anatomy?” he stammered.

You took a step back and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor and bare your nakedness. His eyes widened and he swallowed deeply as he drank in your body. A soft breath fell from his parted lips when you climbed onto the desk and spread your legs either side of him. “I could show you a textbook, but I find this much more effective.”

His throat bobbed as he tried to keep eye contact and the act brought a little laugh from your chest, forcing him to look at your breasts bouncing with it. “You can look, in fact that is exactly what this first lesson is about. Look, Charles.”

His eyes closed but when they opened he was staring at your core, his chest inflating with his deep breath. “Do I just start?” he asked hesitantly, wetting his lips with his tongue.

“Just look for now,” you said with a smile as you reached down your body. “Everyone has erogenous zones, places that feel good when stimulated, and these can be found all over your body, men and women. Thumbs, wrists, behind the knees, inner thighs, neck. Simply kissing and sucking these spots can feel just as good as foreplay.”

“Really?” he eyes widened in surprise and his eyes scanned all the places you had mentioned.

“Really, and I want you to find mine.” You bared your throat and relaxed back on your elbows. “You’ll watch for the physical reactions to confirm it. Deep breathing, moans, eyes closing, jaw slack, forehead pinched - they are some of the outward signs of pleasure.”

“Are you okay with this?” he asked as he found your bent knee the closest point to his lips and his tentative touch warmed your skin.

“I am, and I am pleased that you asked for consent.”

He smiled proudly at the praise before he lifted your leg and kissed the back of your knee, his eyes watching your face as he dragged his tongue along the tendon and crease. Your head fell back and he grinned. “There.”

“One,” you confirmed with a nod before he moved up to your thigh, trying the same thing with a kiss and a lap of his tongue. A giggle bubbled up and you squirmed away. “That’s just ticklish.”

“So not that one?” he double checked, and you shook your head. “Okay…”

The man was thorough and he made sure to find which ones were good for you and which ones weren’t. He paid attention to the signs and more than once he paused to jot down a note in the journal you had provided.

“You’re a good student,” you praised.

“I have a good teacher.”

You smiled at the compliment. “Would you like to explore lesson two tonight or rest? We have all weekend.”

His eyes gave away his answer before his lips did and you climbed off the desk. “Let’s start with the basics then. The first thing you want to do is make yourself comfortable. Craning your neck from where you lie between her legs isn’t comfortable and won’t encourage you to stay there if things take a little longer,” you explained as you moved into the bed and tossed him a pillow. “So, pop one of these under the small of her back.”

He looked at the pillow and shuffled forward. “Now?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, lifting your hips up so he could lay it in place. “Two things happen here, one, it lifts her hips higher for better access which your neck will be thankful for, and two, it tilts her pelvis down and makes it much easier to work her g spot.”

“I thought that was a myth.”

“Why don’t you find out?” you dared. “Did you clip your nails before you came?”

He looked at the short nails and wiggled his fingers with a nod. He had followed every instruction in the email.

“Good, the last thing you want is to accidentally cut a partner with a sharp nail. Now the technique most people find effective is palm up, one or two fingers, gently work your way inside - it’s all about timing, take it slow and build to begin. Once your fingers are inside, curl your fingers up and you’ll feel the tissue is softer, almost spongy. Massaging pressure over that stimulated the g-spot, and if you are good at multitasking you can then add pressure from the outside too. Just place a hand low on her abdomen, slightly above the pelvic bone - don’t press too hard though as it will push on her bladder. First though, you’d probably want to start with warming her up with some cunilingus, eating pussy.”

Charles hopped off the bed and grabbed the journal, quickly jotting down the instructions with quiet eagerness.

“You can practice if you feel comfortable,” you invited when he put the pen and page down.

“Uh, yeah, please,” he stammered as he knelt on the bed and shuffled closer.

You reached into the bedside drawer and grabbed a bottle of lube. “I don’t need this,” you said and he smirked as he saw the other outward sign you had explained - arousal - it already lubricated your slit with the thought of what Charles was going to do to you. “But you should always keep a bottle at home. All women are different, some are drier than others no matter how aroused they get. Or, it’s handy for other areas of play like anal, or even a sensual massage.”

You put the bottle back and settled among the pillows. “Use me, explore, feel the different textures and I’ll guide you if you need it. Remember to look and listen to the signs of pleasure.”

Charles nodded and settled between your legs, getting up close and personal with your pussy. His indecision held him frozen as he wondered where to begin so you offered some guidance. “Finding the clit is a good starting point and then exploring around it to find the sensitive spots. Lick, suck, kiss, try it all.”

Encouraged, he laid a tentative kiss on your slit, his eyes rolled up to watch for your reactions. Seeing nothing, he took aim and tried again, his lip brushing over your clit and a soft sigh reached his ears. More confident, his tongue flicked out and caught your clit making you jolt.

“Was that good or bad?” he asked with a frown.

“Both, that spot is very sensitive - think of the slit at the tip of your cock. When it’s primed and ready that feels amazing but straight off the bat it is a little shocking to the system. You’re in the right area though, so keep exploring.”

This time he circled his tongue around and your moan was louder. You could practically feel his smile on your skin.

“That feels good,” you hummed as warmth spread through your body and he reached up on his own initiative, massaging your breasts. “Oh, you’re a natural now.”

Inspired, he explored further, his tongue lashing along your slit, dipping into your cunt. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp so he delved deeper, fucking you with his tongue as a familiar tightening grew in your core.

“Now would be the perfect time to try to find the g-spot,” you murmured as you fought the urge to succumb to the pleasure, but the lesson wasn’t over.

His rhythm faltered with a fresh wave of nervousness and he pulled back with shiny swollen lips to drag his fingertips through the mess he had made. The slick digits started gently, dipping inside your cunt a little deeper each time until it met the resistance of his palm.

“Feel around for the different textures and then curl your fingers a little.”

He did as instructed and his lips parted in surprise as he felt the spot. “Oh, wow, I’ve never noticed that…”

Your laugh made your pussy clench and he chuckled as your walls tightened around his fingers. “I like that feeling,” he commented with a flirty smirk.

“I thought you would,” you said with a wink. “I also do lessons on male stimulation if you’re ever interested.”

“Like…gay?” he asked quietly, a frown starting to form on his brows yet it wasn’t a look of distaste.

You were intimately aware that he still had two fingers curled in your cunt but it was good that he felt comfortable enough to hold a conversation at the same time. “It’s about learning the male anatomy, like what we did here. Whether that knowledge is used for self pleasure or with a partner, male or female, that is up to them.”

He contemplated the idea for a moment before he remembered what he was doing and began to work his wrist, curling his fingers in sync so they dragged over that delicious spot. He watched your sordid reaction with fascination before he grew bolder, his tongue finding your puffy clit.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you moaned loudly as your pussy tightened in anticipation. He had read your body perfectly and flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit but this time you were primed and ready. Your orgasm began with a tingle through your hair, leading to a fine tremor that danced down your spine, it raced down your legs and curled your toes. “Oh, Charles!”

He moaned against your clit as his wrist snapped forwards and back, the wet sounds of your body filling the room as his fingers fucked you through the explosion. Your cunt clenched and spasmed around the digits and stars spotted your vision. Your head fell back into the pillows with a cry and liquid gushed over his fingers with the release.

Disoriented and overstimulated, you reached between your legs and placed your hand over his. “Please, too much,” you whispered with a hoarse voice and rough aftershocks snapping at your thighs. “That was so fucking good, Charles. I, I just need a minute.”

You threw an arm over your head, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you waited for your heart rate to calm again. A small laugh bounced from your chest as you came down from the high and you finally had the strength to prop yourself back up on your elbows.

“That was perfect, Charles, you are a very quick learner.”

He was busy staring at his hand, your release coating his palm and running down his wrist. “So that’s what an orgasm feels like?” His brows pinched as he realised he had never felt that before.

“It’s what this one felt like. They can be different based on what areas are stimulated, the intensity, intimacy, lots of factors.” You could see he was still disappointed in himself for his previous ignorance and you sat up slowly, crossing your legs as you faced him. “Just because a woman doesn’t orgasm it doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy the experience. Does a blow job feel good before you cum?”

He shrugged, still a little unconvinced. “Yeah.”

“See, forgive yourself and move on, now you know what to do for next time.” You carefully climbed off the bed on unsteady legs and offered your hand. “Last lesson of the night, aftercare.”

He stood up and froze, looking down at his pants. “Sorry, I kind of, uh, um…”

“Why are you sorry?” you laughed, drawing his attention away from the damp patch on his trousers. “You are meant to enjoy pleasuring your partner. Never apologise for that, Charles.”

[reilemon]

⋆ Velvet Night ⋆

♡︎ synopsis: a cozy movie night turns into something more when Xavier’s desire for you overwhelms his restraint.

♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

♡︎ cw: consensual somnophilia

♡︎ word count: 1.2k

♡︎ a/n: the third story for kinktober 2024.

♡︎ Thanks to my dearest friend and beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping.

divider by @cafekitsune

You started dozing off while watching a movie with Xavier. The two of you made a pillow fort in his living room and played the movie you've postponed for weeks. You prepared snacks and poured yourselves mugs of mulled wine. The night had already fallen, with gentle autumn rain tapping on the windows. You were snuggled up under a blanket in Xavier's hoodie, the wine making your body feel like velvet.

You could feel your eyes starting to droop during some scenes you didn't care about. So you did what you always do in such moments - tease Xavier. You rubbed over his sweatpants, kissed his neck, then your hand found its way into his underwear. And that's how you dozed off - with your hand wrapped around his dick.

He chuckles to himself as your breathing got steady, your head completely resting on his shoulder. He gently fishes out your hand and rests it on his chest. You stir in your sleep and move to your side, back turned to him.

You wiggle your butt, grazing his hip. Xavier just smiles and shifts his focus to the movie. Your butt bumps into him again, with more intention this time.

"Xavier..." You whisper over your shoulder with your eyes still closed.

"Hm? What is it?" He asks, turning on his side, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer.

"You know you can do what you want while I sleep?"

He knows. You’ve given him that permission once, and the memory of it still lingered—how your body responded even in sleep, how soft you felt wrapped around him. But as much as he wants to, as much as his cock throbs at the thought of slipping into your warmth while you were none the wiser, he prefers to see your eyes widen in pleasure, hear you whisper his name. He exhales slowly, sinking deeper into the pile of fluffy pillows. He tries to focus on the movie, but the way you fit so perfectly against him made it harder to think of anything else.

Xavier gulps. He doesn't want to leave the warmth of the blanket and retreat to the cold bathroom for relief. He glances over his shoulder. There were a few napkins on the table.

Your unconscious movement sends a jolt through him, the soft curve of your ass brushing against his clothed erection. Heat simmers under the fabric, his cock pressing hard, too constrained by the sweatpants. He bites back a groan, moving his hips in slow, careful motions. He tries to be gentle, not wanting to disturb you, but each grind sends a wave of pleasure through him, clouding his restraint.

With one free clammy hand, he pulls down his sweatpants and underwear as smoothly as possible, his hard dick resting against the soft fabric of your pajama pants. The man hesitates for a moment before he does the same to your bottoms. He whispers 'sorry' every time you twitch and hum in the process, feeling guilty for disturbing your sleep. When he manages to pull down the pajamas and panties to your knees, you glance at him over your shoulder with a sweet smile before dozing off again.

Xavier’s breath hitches as his finger slides easily between your folds. You are already so wet, your body ready for him, and the thought made his heart pound harder. He can feel how your walls clench around him, and with each pulse, he wanted more. He bites his lip, his ring finger teasing at your entrance before sliding in. His body presses closer, his cock resting heavily against your back as his fingers work deeper. He finds himself moving faster, unable to stop the growing urgency that makes his hips grind against you. Your wetness coats his hand, and the sound of it, coupled with your soft mewls, makes his cock throb harder against your skin.

His face is on fire, short hot breaths coming out of his parted lips. The blanket and his hoodie are suffocating him. You, on the other hand, seem very cozy and comfortable. He keeps the blanket over you while he takes off his hoodie, joining you back again, shirtless. Resting on his elbow, he uses his other hand to guide his dick between your wet pussy lips. Xavier lets out a shaky exhale as the tip pushes past your entrance. He moves his hips, one, two times, and moves his hand to gently lift your upper leg.

Xavier's plan to be as quiet and slow as possible is thrown out the window when he feels your warm, drenched pussy squeeze his cock. Strands of his hair stick to his damp forehead, the sweat trickling down his temples as he loses himself in the rhythm of his hips slamming into you. His voice betrays him, each exhale a mix of low moans and sharp gasps. He can’t tear his eyes away from your blissfully peaceful face, the soft flush of your cheeks and your parted lips letting out delicate whimpers. Every sound, every twitch of your hips drives him insane, his cock swelling inside you as your pussy squeezes him. The way your walls flutter around him makes it impossible to slow down, his thrusts becoming deeper, rougher, the friction between you unbearable in the most delicious way.

He moves your leg over, bent at the knee, and you lie on your stomach while still cuddling the pillow. Leaving only your torso covered, he gets on all fours, his arms and legs caging your sleeping figure. He starts rutting into you again, release building up inside him. His hand sneaks its way under you, fingertips pressing onto your clit. The pads of his fingers press and circle the bundle of nerves, eliciting sweet moans and whimpers from you. Xavier sucks in a breath through his teeth as he feels your walls squeeze him, and he knows he's seconds away from coming.

His breath comes in ragged gasps, his lower belly tight and flexing with each thrust, his balls clenching as the pressure builds. The way your pussy grips him, soft and wet, is driving him insane. His hand keeps circling your clit, desperate to feel you cum with him, but he’s too far gone to wait. His cock throbs violently, and with a strangled groan, he pulls out, pumping himself feverishly. Hot, thick spurts of cum splatter across your ass and thighs, leaving his body shuddering with each wave of pleasure. His muscles tense and relax all at once, a deep groan escaping him as he milks the last drops from his cock, his entire body buzzing in the aftermath.

His chest heaves as he grabs the napkin from the coffee table, barely giving himself time to breathe. Every muscle in his body still tingles with the aftershocks of his release, but his hands move with quiet urgency. He gently wipes away the mess, careful not to disturb you, his fingers light as they glide over your skin. He won’t let you wake up sticky, not when you look so peaceful.

Just as he finishes the last careful swipe, you stir beneath him, a soft, needy groan escaping your lips. He pauses, watching as you roll onto your back, your thighs rubbing together. "Xavier ~ "

He chuckles softly as his gaze lingers on you. His name, falling from your lips in that soft, needy whine, makes his heart race all over again. He crawls over you, the warmth of his body pressing against yours, and as his breath fans over your ear, he whispers, 'I know, I know.' The words are a promise, as much as they are reassurance. His lips trail down your neck, slow and teasing, leaving a warm path as he kisses lower.

[puck-luck]

code-breaker | jack hughes

warnings: pining!, unprotected p in v, lots of miscommunication but it is resolved duh, lmao uhhhhh jack fucking his best friend's sister maybe? kind of a big plot point fasho, a lame excuse for a squirt, cum on da body (chest), eating come, lots of banter, tiny TINY bit of angst and insecurity on fem!reader's part pairing: jack hughes x zegras!reader request: cappy's "sister of the best friend, lake house, etc. sister makes the first move and the guy tries to turn her down out of loyalty to the other boy and she gets a little hurt and insecure thinking he's rejecting her and she's like "am i really that bad?" with her voice craking and he's like fuck then... smut!" wc: 4327

Jack is here. 

Jack, who you’ve been in love with since your twin brother started hanging out with him when they were in NTDP together. Jack, the New Jersey Devils’ prized star, the number one pick. Jack, the most annoying and most attractive brother of the esteemed Hughes family from Michigan. Yes, that Jack is here– ‘here’ being your apartment that you share with your brother in Anaheim now that Jamie has moved out and away.

Jack is here. You are here. Trevor is not.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” you tell him awkwardly, still holding the door open and blocking the doorway. You’re all too aware of your lazy, solo-movie-night outfit as you stand in front of him. You’re clad only in a big shirt, one that normally reaches the middle of your thighs but has ridden up since your hands are raised and resting against the doorframe, and your favorite pair of panties. You did laundry earlier and showered, your big exciting thing of the day being that you could but on your favorite underwear and be lazy as soon as you finished the chore of folding your clothes. “Trevor’s in New York right now.”

“I know,” Jack says, a hand on his suitcase. The other is clenched by his side. “I have a meeting in LA tomorrow so he said I could stay here while he was gone.”

“Oh,” you reply, feeling silly. It would’ve been nice if your brother had told you that Jack was coming and staying here while he was gone, considering you’d made plans to be alone all night tonight. Trevor always does shit like this– he makes plans and then forgets to tell you until someone shows up or he has to leave to meet them. It’s frustrating. “Come on in, then.”

You move to the side, gesturing for Jack to enter the apartment, and he does. His suitcase rolls in behind him, just a little carry on, and he leaves it beside the door where he kicks off his shoes. 

Your hands make their way to the hem of your t-shirt, tugging at it. “I’ll, uh, go change into something more–”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Jack interrupts, waving you off. He clears his throat. “You don’t have to change on my account. I’m interrupting your night of–” 

He looks to the couch and the coffee table, littered with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine that you had been drinking out of, straight from the spout. Your movie is paused on the screen, a silly Disney Channel movie that had come out when you and Trevor were children and still hadn’t lost its touch yet. You’re hoping that Jack doesn’t recognize the screencap, but Mel’s Lemonade machine fills the screen and if he’s seen Lemonade Mouth at all, he’ll know what movie you’re watching.

“Disney Channel and wine,” Jack finishes, pinching his lips to hide the amusement in his voice.

You frown, even though you want to burst into laughter with him. It is silly, what you’re doing, but you were supposed to be alone and who are you to be ashamed of your guilty pleasures?

“Don’t make fun,” you admonish, crossing your arms with a pout. “I thought I had the apartment to myself.”

“I’m not making fun!” Jack denies, holding his hands up in surrender. “I think it’s nice that you’re having a me-party.”

He’s referencing the other time he’s interrupted when you’re having a movie night on your own, when you watched The Muppets (2011) at the lake house because the boys were out on the boat and you had gotten a nasty sunburn the day before, so you’d stayed in. Jack had come back early because he was hungry, making the boys drop him off at the dock before going back out, and caught you red-handed with his favorite kind of pretzels and a half-full bottle of margarita next to the blender. 

You blush, glaring at him slightly. “Shut up, Jack.”

“No, this is perfect,” Jack continues, glowing a little as his shit-eating smile builds. He walks over to the couch and plops down, grabbing the bottle of wine and taking a swig before wiping his mouth. “I’m already dressed for a lazy night in, I shouldn’t waste it.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick,” you complain. “You know you don’t want to watch this movie with me.”

“Why not?” He challenges, another tilt of the bottle pouring the fruity liquid down his throat. He spreads his legs when he sits as all the boys do, taking up as much space as he can. 

“Because you won’t like it,” you say. “And because I wasn’t planning on having you here.”

“Were you planning on having someone else here?” Jack teases. “Popcorn, red wine, a movie, no pants… I think I see the writing on the wall.”

“No, God, shut up, Jack!” You repeat with a huff, returning to the couch and curling up against the opposite arm, far away from the boy. “Just be quiet while I watch my movie. If you’re good, I’ll let you have some popcorn.”

Jack wiggles his eyebrows at you, sticking out his tongue. You pull at the bottom of your shirt again, making sure that your panties aren’t visible when he looks over. This is already humiliating enough– you don’t need your long-time crush seeing your underwear, too.

You hit play and turn the volume up loud enough to drown out any comments Jack might make. You’re lucky the movie is short, because he’s an antsy boy who loves to talk, just like your brother, and you can tell that he’s anxious to start another conversation.

As the credits roll, you mute the television and turn to him. “What?” You demand, sitting in criss-cross-applesauce and shoving your hands into your lap to stretch your shirt over the space between your legs. 

“You really didn’t have plans tonight?” Jack asks. “It’s a Saturday night and you live in LA. You’re in your twenties. You didn’t want to have anyone over?”

You flush, but it’s less out of embarrassment and more out of anger. “Judgemental much, Hughes? Not all of us have people throwing themselves at our feet any given day of the week.” You grind your teeth, clenching your jaw and taking a deep breath. You stare at him, refusing to break eye contact. Jack shouldn’t be allowed to form opinions on your life. You know exactly what he’s insinuating– why aren’t you out there getting laid, Y/N? and it’s frustrating because it’s the same question you ask yourself whenever your friends text about their recent hookups or whenever Trevor brings a girl back to the apartment. 

More than anything, you don’t want Jack judging you. You know that your Saturday night plans are lame, but that’s why you wanted to be alone. 

Jack falls quieter, your reaction diluting his crooked, toothy smirk that he reserves for the people he knows well. “I’m surprised you don’t have– people. Throwing themselves at you.”

He’s awkward when he says it, too awkward not to make you suspicious.

He’s avoiding eye contact, picking at his nailbeds. 

“Would you?” You ask, directly to the point. You’re making a point, too– you’ve known Jack for years and he has never, not once, implied that he thinks you’re desirable. 

Jack says nothing, running his fingers through his hair and looking down. 

You nod to yourself and stand from the couch, still tugging at your shirt. You’re pulling it even lower now, the neckline dipping and stretching as you cover your legs up as best you can. “That’s what I thought,” you say quietly, a cold feeling washing through your chest and pressing down on the skin that your heart beats beneath. 

“I would,” Jack calls, just as you walk away. You’re positioned right in front of the door that leads to your bedroom when he says it, head hanging towards the ground so that he doesn’t see the frown on your face. 

His silence was a rejection and his afterthought is even worse. Nonetheless, you turn to face him. This time, it’s your silence that rings throughout the space.

“I would,” Jack repeats. “If, y’know. You weren’t–”

“Trevor’s sister,” You say, filling in the blanks and finishing his sentence. You nod, a tight, close-lipped, and pointed smile on your face. “You don’t have to explain, Jack. I realized a long time ago that my world would always revolve around Trevor.” Your hand is on the doorknob now, twisting it and cracking your door open. Your bed is right there and you can collapse into it in mere seconds, able to let your tears leak into your pillow silently as you remind yourself that you’re not as good as your twin brother once again, just as soon as you get these words out. “I know I can’t do or say the things I want to with the people I want to because they’re always thinking about Trevor.”

You could add, And why would you be any different? You know him best. Of course he’s the one you’re loyal to, but you decide against it. It’s too petty. It’s too mean. It’s too– real. 

You look at him one last time to bid him goodnight, already craving the following day when his meeting is over and he heads back to Michigan, far away from you and your un-desirability. The tight smile returns to your face, trying to smooth out your upset yet resigned features. It’s always the same thing. It’s not Jack’s fault, really, it’s not. You’ve imagined this conversation in your head many times and each time you think rationally, you know that this is how it has to be.

He’s Jack Hughes, for God’s sake. You’re just Trevor Zegras’ less successful, lesser known twin sister.

“Trevor would kill me,” Jack says on a whim. “Really. He would. He would stand me up and punch me, right here.”

You’ve got one foot in your bedroom and one foot out. Despite the ice piercing through your chest, you can’t find it in yourself to be rude and close the door on him. You turn to face Jack again.

He’s sitting forward on the couch, hands clasped in front of him like a prayer. He moves them when he talks, lowering them and spreading them and gesturing with them. He’s always done that, ever since you’ve known him– it’s another way that he calls attention to himself and takes up space. It’s part of the reason why he’s so charming– he knows how to use his hands, how to touch someone to politely get them to move or to pull them closer or to playfully shoo them away. 

“If I had a sister, I’d do the same thing to him,” Jack continues. “It’s just– we can’t go for each others’ family. It’s against the code.”

You nod, slowly, exaggeratedly just to show him how nonsensical that sounds. “You realize it’s not up to Trevor to decide who you go out with,” you say. “That’s kind of your choice, Jack.”

“It’s not that simple.”

You shrug, then look away. Outside the living room window is a dark night, leaves blowing with the wind. 

“It could be,” you say after a moment. You’re not surprised to hear how resigned you sound. You learned to live with this a long time ago, so you know that pointing out how easily things could change is futile. You say it anyway. “If you wanted it to be. But, I get it. I’m your best friend’s sister. Maybe if I wasn’t, you’d consider–”

“I have considered,” Jack interrupts. “I’ve– well, you’ve seen it. All the guys have.”

You’re lost. It’s like he’s speaking in code. “I’ve seen what?” You ask, monotonous and silently yearning for your bed. Your patience is growing thin.

“You can’t be serious,” Jack responds with a laugh. He buries his face in his hands, muffling the noise. “Are you?”

“I’ve seen what,” you repeat, straight-faced and not entertaining this sudden bout of humor from the brunet boy.

“How I look at you when you’re in those tiny little swimsuits on the boat, or how I laugh when you make one of your stupid jokes that aren’t funny to anyone but you and Trevor,” Jack says. “You really never noticed?”

Now he’s just dangling your hopeless crush in front of you. You assumed he had noticed sometime over the years, but this is overkill. He’s never felt the same– that much is clear. It’s cruel that he thinks he can lead you to believe otherwise as a means to further tease you for being alone tonight.

You shake your head. “I never noticed because you never did any of those things, Jack. You’re just saying that to say it.”

He’s up in a flash, coming towards you and placing a hand flat on your bedroom door to prevent you from closing it and ending the conversation. “I can’t believe you don’t believe me,” Jack says.

“I don’t think it’s funny that you’re making fun of the little crush I’ve had on you since we were kids. You don’t feel the same way and I’m not an idiot.” You move to close the door again, but Jack pushes it open again. 

“You– I’m not making fun,” Jack stammers out, looking surprised. He leans forward, narrowing his eyes. “You have a crush on me?”

Your jaw drops and your face flames with humiliation. You thought he knew that you liked him and that he was making fun on purpose– and now you’ve accidentally revealed your massive, well-kept secret to his face. This was never supposed to happen. “You didn’t know?” You hiss, covering the lower half of your face with your hands. 

“You have a crush on me,” Jack repeats, a smile spreading across his face. He steps closer, prompting you to back away.

“No. No,” you moan out, feeling positively ashamed and destroyed. Tonight is not turning out as you hoped it would.

Jack’s still smiling, closing your bedroom door softly behind him as he follows you into your room. 

You knock into the edge of your bed and sit, sinking into the mattress. Your hands are still pressed over your mouth as Jack kneels in front of you, prying your hands away from your face and holding them gently. 

“You have a crush on me,” Jack says for a third time, his voice soft and subtly optimistic. The corner of his mouth curves up into the tiniest of smirks and you swear your face couldn’t get any more red.

All you can give him is a frown and a devastated wobble of your bottom lip. 

“Well, this changes everything,” Jack says, regaining his ability to joke, it seems. His next question is rhetorical and makes you swallow hard. “Who gives a fuck about Trevor when you feel the same way I do?” 

“You’re– you’re serious,” you say, still a thread of disbelief sewn into your words. “You weren’t kidding. You actually– thought about it.”

“Thought about it?” Jack asks. “Fuck, Y/N, I almost told you right before you left last summer, but then you said you were talking to that guy.”

You roll your eyes– that guy had only been in your life for about a month and you had only mentioned him because Jack had mentioned a girl he wanted to see. You tell him such– “I only brought him up because everyone was talking about their romantic interests and who they were interested in, I didn’t want to seem like a loser. You had some girl, too, Jack.”

“Some girl– that was you,” Jack reveals incredulously. “I thought I was being so obvious.”

“You weren’t obvious at all!” You deny, mouth open in a scoff. 

“I thought that you mentioning that guy was your way of letting me down easy!”

“Yes, Jack, because I was going to reveal my feelings for you in a room full of both of our brothers. Good idea. You fucking idiot!”

Jack laughs aloud, throwing his head back. His face scrunches up and he smooths his face with his big palm at the end of his amusement. He fixes you with a look of glee and astonishment– something only hindsight can bring to his expression. “We’re so fucking stupid.”

You shake your head, laughing with him for a moment before he swipes a thumb over your cheek, which stills you. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, smile still gracing his face. “I can’t believe–”

“Me neither,” you say.

“Can I–”

“Absolutely.”

Jack’s rising up, kissing you and laying you back on the bed so that he can completely cover your body with his own. One of his hands cups your cheek, while the other grips your hip, atop your underwear but underneath the big t-shirt that is now riding up your body as you move. Your hand is on his bicep and his chest, clutching his sweatshirt. The strings dangle down into your space, brushing against your clothes and tickling you.

His hands memorize you like a topographic map, clutching at your dips and curves and anything else he can get his hands on. 

“Wanna take this off,” You mumble against Jack’s mouth, tugging at the collar of his sweatshirt.

Jack pulls back immediately, reaching behind his neck to grab the collar of his top and bring it above his head. He balls it up and drops it somewhere on the floor. 

“That, too,” you tell him, about his t-shirt, before he can bend back down and kiss you senseless again.

Jack chuckles and pulls it off, too, leaving him half-naked just like you. His chest is tanned and swollen from his recent workouts in Michigan since his shoulder surgery, something that Trevor had told you about but about which you’d never checked in. You’re gentler on that side of his body, especially as he comes back down into your space and you get to touch him. You run your hands over his muscles. You feel out the ridges of his body, trying to match his own confident movements as he feels you up.

One of your hands makes its way to his v-line, something you’d seen over plenty of boat trips. You’d always wanted the opportunity to touch it, to trace it, to watch it bend and flex as he rolled his hips. You’re being afforded that opportunity now and it is sweet.

“I thought you might like that,” Jack murmurs. “Caught you staring once. Was the same day you wore my favorite red swimsuit out.”

“I still have it,” you tell him, gasping a little when his hand slides up to your chest. He tweaks your nipple, then his hand retreats. 

“Mm, a treat for tomorrow,” Jack says. “I’m gonna have you walking around in that thing all day just so I can look at you. For now…”

He trails off, pushing the bottom of your shirt up and leaving your lips to attach his to the freshly revealed skin of your torso. He kisses up your body with each inch he reveals, between your breasts and up your neck. He pulls your shirt off, letting it join his own on the floor, and gets his first proper look at your tits.

“Been waiting to see these,” he continues, eyes fixed on your chest like he’s being hypnotized. He places his hands on you and squeezes, feeling your supple flesh between his fingers. You moan out at the sensation, the noise spurring him on. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding and tugging at his joggers, hoping he’ll get the hint and remove them.

“‘ve wanted to come on these tits since I first saw it in a porno,” Jack reveals, still mesmerized by your chest. “Thought about it a hundred times.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Come on my tits all you want, but you have to fuck me first.”

“Guess your Saturday night wasn’t so boring after all,” Jack says before he stands from the bed and tugs his pants off. He joins you again, wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing over your face. He grinds against you, his clothed cock sliding against your damp panties in a way that has you both keening into each others’ mouths. 

“Guess not,” is your reply, cut short by another moan when Jack’s hand claims your chest again.

You move without speaking after that, fueled only by the desire coursing through your veins after years of pining and aching for the other. 

Jack feels you out and eventually discards his own underwear before removing yours, returning to the missionary position that you had assumed as soon as you had first kissed. It’s sweeter this way– and you both need to see the other’s face, to feel their breath mix with your own. Your chests are flush together, your nipples scraping against the defined and broad swoops of his skin. You grind against each other for a few minutes more, his dick sliding between the wet lips of your pussy with nothing blocking it. He groans into your ear as your juices coat his length, eyes closed in a grimace that is completely charged by his pleasure.

“Condom?” is the last thing he asks, with you shaking your head and replying, “Pill.”

He lines himself up, mouth agape with a choked breath as he thrusts into your tight, wet heat. Your head finds the mattress beneath you, your back arching up as he fills you. You can feel his veins sliding against your walls, the blunt and weeping tip of his cock poking at your deepest parts.

He moves like a man possessed and fighting the beast– like he wants to let loose but at the same time, restraining himself. When you tug on his hair, the subtle waves that he’s been growing out over the summer and hiding beneath his hat in every picture you’ve seen, and whine out his name, Jack’s control vanishes.

He starts to piston his hips into your cunt, burying his face into your neck and letting out ecstasy-fueled whimpers each time you clench down. He curses in your ear, voice a little higher than it normally is, and the intimacy and vulnerability of the moment has your heart clenching. 

“J– J–” You chant, mewling as his cockhead drives against the back wall of your pussy in hard thrusts that make your head spin. 

“So good,” he grits out, kissing over your neck and catching your earlobe between his lips for a moment before dropping it. One of his hands is splayed over your hip, the other securely planted next to your head. “So tight.”

“Coming,” you warn, your fingers finding his bicep and clenching, fingernails digging into his skin so much that you won’t be surprised if you break skin. Your voice is high, too, octaves higher because of the pleasure you’re experiencing.

“Fuck, yeah, baby, come on my cock,” Jack pants out, the hand from your hip coming to rub circles over your clit. 

It sends a shock up your spine and has your hips bucking up to meet his, your entire lower half shaking as your climax approaches. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your vision goes spotty when you do come, just seconds after his groaned encouragement. Your entire body tenses, freezing with Jack still inside of you, making it damn near impossible for him to continue pumping his hips. 

He slides from your opening as you’re coming, bringing some of the slick with him in a feeble excuse for a squirt. His dick bobs, hard and an angry red that might be the most beautiful color you’ve ever seen in your hazy, post-orgasmic state.

Jack comes up to straddle your stomach, stripping his cock quickly with a tight fist, chest heaving. You know he wants to come on your chest, having already given him permission, but your mouth opens and your tongue lolls out in an invitation that Jack can’t deny. He shuffles up further on his knees, his whimper sounding pained as his milky cum spurts from the tip of his cock and lands along the flat of your tongue and your lips.

His spurts grow weaker, although he’s still stroking his dick in a fervorous pace, whining a little more at the oversensitivity. His cum makes his way to your chest, just dripping down the length of his shaft and pooling over your tits. 

You reach up with one hand and trace your fingers through the seed, causing Jack to sway a little on top of you at the sight. His cheeks are flushed and pink, eyes blue and clear like he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Your fingertips brush your nipple, spreading the cum over it before you bring your hand up to your mouth and suck the remaining liquid off of your skin, swallowing it with a hum.

Jack is off of you in a flash, pulling you on top of his lap and joining your lips. The last of his cum, painted across your tongue in a thin layer, mixes with your spit as he kisses you. He’s desperate, filling your mouth with his tongue until you can barely breathe, tasting himself on you until it’s indistinguishable– where you end and he begins.

It takes a long time for Jack to finally pull away, for you both to come down from your highs and take a breath.

In typical Jack fashion, he can’t stop himself from joking around.

“Trevor’s really going to kill me now,” he says. “There’s a chance he’ll never let us be in the same room again.”

You laugh, knowing already that neither of you will be willing to let this– whatever this is– go just because your brother has something to say about it. “In that case, we’ll just have to sneak away.”

notes: I WANTED TO NAME THIS "BFB" AFTER THE VICTORIOUS SONG SOOOOOO BAD!!!!! but alas. it's best friend's sister. maybe some other time. blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. well now wait that's a good idea...

[lucysarah-c]

Mounting Spring Ch. 2

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21.Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another. Masterlist to the previous parts! Ao3 link in case you prefer to read there!

Teeth sank into the reddening pulp, grimacing as she swallowed its overly sweet pulp. She’d had more than her fill of them by now. Her hands gripped her hips as her mother tugged at the back of her dress, tightening it with relentless precision. 

“How many more of these do I have to eat?” she muttered, her mouth half-full. 

“Do not touch the dress,” her mother insisted, exasperated. “Figs stain like crazy.” 

Her grandmother, seated by the intricately decorated vanity, glanced up. “As many as it takes. Don’t you want your chest to be pump for the wedding?” 

With shallow, uneven breaths, she turned to face herself in the triple-panelled mirror with its gilded frame. The multiple angles revealed the full grandeur of the white dress she wore. She, somehow, seemed tiny compared to the size of the grown. “Isn’t it... perhaps, a little much?” 

Doubt settled into her mind as a servant pinned her hair in an elaborate updo. This was the third fitting, just three days before the big day; any change now would be nearly impossible. 

“Nonsense!” her mother chided, fussing with the train to ensure it cascaded perfectly. “You only marry once.” Noticing the way her daughter’s leg tapped nervously, she gave her a sharp slap on the arm. “Stop it. Calm yourself, or you’ll faint before you even reach the cathedral.” 

“Ouch!” she pouted. “I can’t help it—I’m so nervous. I want him to think I’m beautiful. I want him to think I’m... perfect.” 

“He should count himself lucky,” her grandmother muttered with a groan, “You could do so much better than some Military Police officer, high-ranking or not.” 

“Grandma,” she replied, weary of the topic, “Dietrich is an angel... he even worked extra hours so we could have the wedding at the main cathedral, just like I dreamed.” 

Her voice softened, eyes shining with a blush on her cheeks, visibly lovestruck. Her little sister, tugging at her own flower girl dress, looked up and grinned, “You’re getting married where princesses do!” 

“Yes,” Y/N beamed, crouching with a rustle of fabric, “and we’ll both look like princesses.” 

“What if... what if my heat comes early? Or late?” Her breathing turned shallow. “We’ve been planning this for years—” 

“Goodness, calm down!” her mother scolded, sounding weary. “You’ll get it next week as planned, and by then, you’ll already be bonded.” 

Her grandmother sat at the table, grumbling to herself. The room around them was awash in white and gold, with intricate floral patterns adorning the walls and hidden doors blending with the decor. The house was full of energy as five children dashed about, all at different ages. The two eldest—a pair of identical teenage boys—moved with a synchronized mischief, while the remaining three, two boys and a girl, looked close enough in age to practically be triplets. The girl, rapidly growing taller than the other two. The three of them in that state of childhood that they can’t kept still. 

But the simplest conclusion was that she was the oldest. “Oh, say what you like, Grandma, but without Dietrich and father’s connections, we’d all still be waiting at the military tower, just like after the uprising.” 

She turned, smiling warmly at another woman standing quietly in the corner. That woman’s facial features had no resemblance to the rest of the people in the room. “And thanks to Mrs. Irma, who’s so generously taken us in,” she said, offering a small bow of respect. 

“Oh, think nothing of it,” Mrs. Irma replied. “In times like these, traditional families need to stand together.” Her expression darkened as she glanced at the clock. “It’s absurd that they’re keeping Anthony at the board this late. Can you imagine? These are family hours! 

One of the older boys, recently old enough to entertain more adult conversations, muttered, “Well... it’s not like the Scouts have any family to go back to.” 

“Arthur,” Y/N snapped, her voice severe, “don’t say that.” He shrugged, but she held his gaze firmly. “What if someone hears you? Don’t be foolish, especially while Father is still imprisoned.” 

Unfazed, the boy rolled his eyes. “You’re not my mother,” he muttered, looking toward their actual mother for backup. 

“Listen to your sister,” she replied, more out of habit than strictness. 

She smirked at Arthur, satisfied. Despite him recently presenting as an alpha, she remained firmly in charge. 

Just then, the front door swung open so loudly it echoed through the house, drawing everyone’s attention. 

Her head snapped up, her nose catching a familiar scent. Gathering the skirts of her dress, she hurried down the hall. Two older men stood in the entryway, and her heart leaped. “Dad!” she cried with excitement, 

Her exclamation raised the family that quickly moved behind her. “I knew they’d let you out for the wedding,” she said, her voice shaking with joy as her father lifted her off the ground in a tight embrace. 

When she withdrew her arms around her father’s neck and he set her down, he looked at her with an unfamiliar intensity, almost prideful. “Oh, darling, aren’t you a blessing?” 

She blinked, caught off guard by the expression. But before she could question it, the rest of the family surrounded him, eagerly pulling him into their midst. The owner of the house still cladded in his military uniform moved to his wife, Irma, and whispered something in her ear. Whatever he had said made the colours from her face drain and her eyes flicked toward Y/N, filled with an unsettling mix of shock and pity. 

‘...What is going on?’ The bride-to-be began to sense the tension in the air. Her confused eyes moved to her father, who was still talking to the children. Her confusion was only slightly veiled as she heard him declare, “We are going back to the house!” 

“To the country manor and all?” one of the teens asked excitedly. 

“Yes, all of it. The Crown is returning the territories.” 

Y/N smiled, but a shadow of confusion crossed her face. The news seemed almost too good. Had her fiancé put in a word with the military board? But then, ‘One thing is him being free, another is having our lands returned.’ 

None of her friends with family under military trial had gotten their properties back after the uprising. Most nobles still waiting for military trail at the tower, begging to not be executed. As she mulled this over, the scene repeated in front of her eyes. Her father bent down to whisper something to her mother, and both turned to glance at her. 

The younger children ran around, cheering, the teens celebrating the prospect of leaving the borrowed home. Y/N, however, watched the four adults as they slipped into the study. 

The sound of the double doors sliding shut with a finality that stirred her nerves was hard to forget. She could swear she felt the wind of air that the action produced slamming against her face. Just like her, her grandmother didn’t share the enthusiasm. Perhaps, Y/N was no longer a little girl to be easily tricked as her siblings.  

While they conferred in private, she changed out of her dress into something more comfortable, scooped up her large white Persian cat, and settled in with her grandmother for tea. But neither took a sip. It felt like the eye of the hurricane, with a silence that gnawed sanity.  

‘Calm down... it’s just nerves,’ she reminded herself, clinging to her mother’s earlier words. 

But minutes passed like hours, and hours passed like days.  When the adults finally emerged, she stood quickly, meeting her father with a hopeful smile. “Dad, you’ll be able to walk me down the aisle!” 

But the man placed both hands on her forearms, giving them a gentle squeeze before he spoke. As he did, her smile slowly faded, replaced by a torrent of messy tears. She couldn’t quite recall how he delivered the news, having dissociated in the moment. 

“No...” she whispered as tears ran down her cheeks, her head shaking slowly in disbelief. “Don’t do this to me...” 

“Dad,” she cried, her voice like a frightened child’s, pleading against the monsters of the night. 

He simply cupped her head with one hand, lowered it gently to plant a kiss on her crown, and said softly, “Make him happy, alright?” 

— 

Perhaps it wasn’t the time or place to think about it, but his mind kept drifting back. Maybe it was the season—spring—that stirred his body’s instincts with an eager pull toward mating. There was no rut, no nearby omega to trigger one, yet his body reacted to the shift in weather, sensing that if he wasn’t so stubborn, it might be the perfect timing for breeding. 

Maybe it was because he’d been informed that everything was settled and that the wedding was set to happen as soon as possible. He had no say in it; within three days, it had been arranged. He absentmindedly spun a small red velvet box with a single ring on the wooden table. He had asked for the most common ring size and bought the only one he could afford—the cheapest, hoping blindly that it would fit her. 

Or maybe it was Hange’s idea of ‘lifting his spirits’ with a bachelorette party, despite his protests. But his mind kept circling back to one persistent question: ‘Have I ever... actually slept with an omega in heat?’ 

The answer was clear: no. In his days in the Underground, he’d had encounters with a few omegas, but they were rare, and none had been in heat. Omegas hid during their heat. Understandably so, since an omega in heat risked being claimed by any alpha nearby.  Any decent alpha in rut would do the same, locking themselves away to avoid the instinct to claim someone they didn’t even know. 

‘The closest... was that time her roommate went into heat. and she smelled faintly like an omega in heat,’ Levi mused, trying to dig up memories.  ‘I remember thinking it was the best fuck I ever had...’ And it had only been a faint trace of pheromones, not even the real thing. Neither of them was a ‘high-bred omega’ or anything like that, yet the curiosity of what it might truly feel like lingered in his mind. 

Especially after they’d informed him two days ago that his fiancée—his future wife—was expected to go into heat by the end of the week. The wedding had been fast-tracked to ensure he could claim her once they were married. 

‘I shouldn’t be thinking about this—it’s creepy, to say the least,’ he reprimanded himself, ‘It’s just because it’s spring,’ he reasoned. 

The season was clearly affecting him, sparking memories of times he’d been with betas or even alpha women. He’d never cared much about it, aside from the frustration of having to squeeze his own knot. He’d always assumed there was no difference, though he had no experience to confirm it. Attempting to knot a beta or alpha wasn’t just difficult; it was painful for them. All these thoughts spun around in his head, mirroring the ring box as it spun under his fingers on the polished table. 

The day was annoyingly warm; his jacket hung on the back of his chair. The previous day, he hadn’t brought it and nearly froze; now he had, and it felt like he was boiling. ‘Damn spring,’ Levi cursed, clicking his tongue and glancing from the open door to the end of the hall, where Zackly had left the meeting for an emergency. The cadet he’d been grumbling to looked visibly nervous, though his expression read, ‘It’s not my fault, don’t yell at me.’ 

Then he saw Zackly returning, visibly tense, trying to mask his irritation. ‘What’s got him so riled up now?’ 

The three men sat down across from Levi, one slapping a stack of papers onto the table. The gray-haired man rolled up his sleeves, pushed his glasses up, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then looked straight into Levi’s dead-set eyes. 

“There’s been a last-minute issue,” he grunted. “Would you consider choosing another girl?” 

“What?” Levi scowled. “Hell no. We already agreed on this.” 

“I know, but—” 

“No.” Levi crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. “What’s the problem?” 

“Lady Y/N is feeling unwell—” began the youngest cadet timidly on Zackly left side, only to be interrupted by a brash MP on the other side of the higher in rank. “She’s bleeding. The chick missed her heat.” 

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room, and Levi raised an eyebrow, grunting, “Huh?” 

“Her heat’s gone. Her mother said it was stress-related. Doesn’t matter; the point is, she won’t go into heat this spring,” Zackly clarified, clearly annoyed. “So, pick someone who can still be bred this season.” 

Levi didn’t respond right away, sitting in silence and letting his annoyance simmer as he waited, half-hoping that a sliver of humanity might surface among these men. “What’s the problem? Everything’s set—let’s carry on.” 

“Didn’t you hear me?” Zackly insisted, his patience thin. “She won’t be fertile—possibly for an entire year.” 

“Yeah, I heard you. I’m not an idiot. And?” Levi replied, his tone making it clear he found their point absurd. “There’s a chance of omegas going into heat in autumn too,” he added dismissively. 

“The odds are too low, and a year’s too long. Who knows what fate this island faces in that time? We need a child now,” Zackly jabbed a fat finger against the table for emphasis. “Choose another.” 

Levi snorted, letting out a mocking chuckle. “The arrangement was marriage, and I agreed to that. The rest of this is your own twisted, old-man wet dreams. Whether I knock her up next week or next year—that’s my problem.” 

Zackly sighed in frustration, resting his face in his hand. Levi, unbothered, shrugged. “Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. I’ll get the chance to learn her name before I’m a father.” 

The MP, that Levi could tell he was an alpha by the scent, sneered under his breath, muttering, “She had one job and couldn’t handle it—the little hysterical chick. What’s she stressed about, eating cake? And omegas wonder why we call them the weaker sex.” 

Levi’s sharp gaze pinned the soldier, who straightened in defiance. In the standoff that followed, it became clear: the first to look away would concede dominance. “Watch your mouth,” Levi warned, “or pray I don’t hear that crap again—ever.” 

Scoffing, the soldier held his ground, teeth slightly bared as if it would grant him authority. “You don’t even know her,” 

 But Levi, humanity’s strongest, didn’t need to bare teeth. “I don’t care. If she’s an inconvenience and a pain in the ass, she’s my pain in the ass now. So, the rest of you better shut up.” 

The room grew tense, and the youngest cadet shrank in his seat, barely fifteen and newly presented, terrified of being caught up in an alpha standoff. At last, the MP turned away in frustration, shifting into a submissive posture, acknowledging defeat. 

Levi snorted, settling back into a relaxed stance. It was typical alpha posturing—territorial nonsense. Or perhaps, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my ally,’ he mused, because whether they liked it or not, she had managed to annoy them all. Levi took that as a personal win. 

‘See...we already have something in common,’ he mused, a bittersweet smile flickering across his face at the thought. 

— 

“You! Last night as a single man! How do you feel?” Hange shouted, downing an entire pint. 

Levi sat with his drink clutched between his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. “Like shit,” he muttered. 

“Nah, that’s just your usual mood,” Hange joked. “Thought bachelor parties were supposed to be fun? Where’s everyone else?” 

Levi glanced up; his gaze heavy. “Dead.” 

Hange’s smile faded; their lips pressed together as the realization sank in. They were the only ones left. The night shifted from bittersweet to just bitter. 

“If eyebrows were here… he’d put a stop to all this nonsense,” Levi added, sounding defeated, like he’d grown addicted to ‘if onlys’ as the days passed. Hange raised an eyebrow, eyes scanning Levi’s words as if trying to make them fit, but only managed a grimace, like someone watching a mismatched eulogy at a funeral. 

“Who am I kidding? That jerk would’ve planned everything behind my back and dragged me to church without explaining why,” Levi muttered, chuckling softly. 

Hange burst into laughter. “Honestly! We miss Erwin, but let’s not kid ourselves,” they said, refilling Levi’s glass before slumping back into the couch. “Come on, you’ve got to face marriage like an alpha!” 

Levi looked at them, puzzled. “Heavily drunk?” 

Reluctantly, Levi raised the glass to his lips. Just then, a flash of lightning illuminated the sky, followed by the rumble of thunder. 

— 

‘It’ll stop eventually.’ 

But it didn’t. The storm only worsened. By midday, it was as dark as night inside the chapel. 

“Can I leave?” the priest asked, breaking the silence. The small-town chapel was empty—not just because it was a workday, but because the Church had lost much of its influence under the new government. But, to Levi’s annoyance, they still upheld the entire marriage ritual as if nothing had changed. 

“You’re a priest. What else have you got to do but wait with us?” Hange replied, leaning back in the uncomfortable wooden pew. Turning to Levi, they whispered, “Are you sure she said today?” 

At first, both had sat upright, coats adjusted for the formality of the occasion. But after four hours of waiting, with no sign of the bride, both Scouts had slouched against the benches, waiting for a miracle or release from this silent punishment. 

Levi, resting his head back, hands in his pockets as the storm turned colder, shrugged “Maybe I read it wrong,” he said, his eyes fixed on the chapel floor, utterly devoid of expression. 

“What?!” Hange exclaimed. “Does that mean I got drunk last night for nothing?” 

“Nobody forced you to.” 

“Well, what kind of bachelor party would it be if someone didn’t get drunk?” It was obvious Hange was trying to lighten the mood with a joke or two. 

Levi, though, was too wrapped up in his thoughts to appreciate it. “It wasn’t a bachelor party, Hange. It was just you and me.” 

“Sorry for annoying you with my friendship,” Hange replied, feigning offense. After a moment of silence, they continued, “Maybe she ran away…” 

“Maybe she threw herself from the Walls, as I should have.” 

Hange chuckled. “You’re being a bit overdramatic.” They could tell Levi was beyond stressed; his leg bounced restlessly, pacing each second with the beat of his boot against the floor. 

As the storm worsened and time dragged on, Levi turned to Hange. “Go back to the Scouts.” 

“What?” the newly appointed Commander asked, visibly confused. “No way, I’m staying! My baby is getting married!” they joked, earning an eye roll from Levi. 

“I’m older than you, idiot.” 

Hange slung an arm around Levi, grinning. “Yeah, but you’re shorter, so age doesn’t count.” 

“Tch. Just go. We left the brats alone, and the sky’s falling. They’ll need help with the horses, and someone has to check on the coastal supplies. Without proper squad leaders, someone’s got to be there giving orders.” 

Though Hange had taken up the Commander’s role, Levi’s support had often provided the final push they needed to take full responsibility. Most of the time, the captain could tell that the brunette felt like the role was too big for them. Levi seemed to feel that push was necessary now, especially in the storm’s chaos. 

Hange, however, hesitated, reluctant to leave a friend who’d seen better days. “But—” 

“Go,” Levi said, resigned but not angry. “I’m a big boy, Four-Eyes. I’ll be fine.” 

Using their old teasing nicknames was the closest they came to camaraderie now. “Who’s going to sign as your witness, then?” Hange asked, rising reluctantly. 

“If” —Levi stressed the word— “if she shows up, we’ll improvise. Now go. The cadets need you.” 

Levi shifted uncomfortably, glancing once more toward the doors, his patience worn thin as the storm outside seemed only to grow angrier. The priest fidgeted, muttering under his breath while Hange’s retreating footsteps had already faded, leaving Levi alone with his swirling thoughts. 

The hours dragged on; the storm’s fury unrelenting. Levi, alone now in the dim chapel, had nearly let go of the thought that she would show at all. His head rested against the back of the pew, eyes half-closed, the rhythmic pounding of the rain on the roof above almost hypnotic. 

He felt himself drifting off, exhaustion creeping in after he didn’t sleep a wink the previous night. He couldn’t decide which he preferred—her not showing up at all or going through with it. If she didn’t come, he’d have to endure this ordeal all over again. If she did, it would finally bring this chapter to a close, forcing him to confront a new way of life. 

For a split second, he found himself comparing it to waiting for an execution. ‘No... let’s not turn into those bitter old men who think of marriage as a prison; the poor kid’s done nothing wrong.’ 

And just when Levi resigned to leave, a loud creak of the chapel doors shattered the stillness. Levi sat up abruptly, and two soldiers, rifles in hand and soaked through, marched into the aisle, flanking a lone figure in a drenched, greyish-white cloak. The hood hung low, obscuring her face entirely. Her face was obscured beneath the soaked hood, and the dress beneath the cloak—if it could be called a wedding gown at all—was stained with mud up to her knees. It looked far more like an ordinary dress than something intended for marriage, its hem torn and splattered with the earth she’d trudged through. 

The two soldiers from Zackly’s meeting earlier that week were here, and Levi quickly understood why—they must be trusted to carry out the job of escorting her. When she finally stepped into the chapel, an unexpected aroma hit him like a punch. He couldn’t tell if it was the lingering aroma from the lost heat, adjusting to the sudden shift in plans and hormones. But she smelled— 

‘Divine, for fuck’s sake,’ he thought, feeling ashamed at how quickly his own body reacted. 

The soldiers stepped forward, both offering quick, sharp salutes. One spoke in a low, weary voice. “Captain, apologies for the delay. The main road’s flooded out. We lost the cart about a mile back—it’s stuck deep. We had to finish the journey on foot.” 

Levi gave a curt nod, his gaze fixed on the figure between them. Levi could only see her hands—pale, trembling slightly. She didn’t move, her posture utterly still, almost as if she were an apparition more than a bride. The cloak’s edges trembled with each tremor from the cold. Levi had to fight the urge to bend lower and see if he could catch a glimpse of her face. 

The priest, seizing the moment, gestured toward the altar. “Well, no use delaying further. Let us proceed.” 

Levi remained still for a beat. He took a deep breath and stepped forward, his boots echoing on the stone floor as he approached the altar. But before he could locate her fully, the priest’s voice rang out, “Bring her forward.” 

He glanced over his shoulder. 

The same MP from before took hold of her arm, pushing her forward with an irritating smirk. “Come on, sweetheart. We don’t have all day.” 

Levi almost stepped in to object; there was no need to shove her around like a rag doll. He shot a deadly glare at the soldier. ‘That’s strike two, asshole.’ 

Perhaps he was too focused on expressing his disapproval to notice at first, but she raised her head slightly, her delicate fingers reaching up to push back her hood, finally revealing her face as she turned toward him. 

Levi froze. ‘Holy shit... maybe I should start choosing blindly.’ His reaction must have been obvious, as he could hear the two soldiers chuckling behind him. 

“Look at how the bastard’s face changed,” one MP muttered, his companion nudging him in an attempt to avoid further reprimand. 

Her hair was styled in a simple half-up, half-down braid, woven with white laces in an attempt to add a touch of glamour. Perhaps it had looked better when it was first done; now, it clung to her head, and the small, loose locks meant to lend an ethereal appearance were now plastered to her damp face. Her eyelashes, soaked from the rain, mimicked the look of mascara—though most of it had already smudged around her eyes. Despite it all, Levi thought she looked gorgeous. 

As the ceremony began, the priest asked, “Are both of you here of your own free will?” It was standard procedure.  

Levi, completely fed up with the situation, glanced at the man in the black robe, ‘You gotta be kidding me,’ he thought. 

“Yeah,” he bit out. 

On the other hand, she muttered as quietly as a mouse, “... yes.” 

As the ceremony resumed, the priest’s voice echoed softly in the empty chapel, only slightly drowned by the relentless rain. Levi stood with his hands stiffly at his sides, listening to the murmured words without taking them in fully, his gaze repeatedly drifting to the shivering figure beside him. 

When the priest finally motioned for the rings, Levi reached into his pocket and pulled out the plain, golden band. His hands were steady as he took hers, but he felt her flinch slightly, the coldness of her skin seeping through his fingers as he held her trembling hand. Her fingers, nearly numb from the chill, barely closed around his. He slipped the ring onto her finger, only to notice it was too large; the band slid loosely over her knuckle. 

If it weren’t for Levi’s ability to keep his composure, he swore anyone else would have either cursed in the middle of this holy place or broken down in tears. It was just one more detail that seemed off-kilter, and he felt his jaw clench. 

‘Come on, just one damn thing has to turn out right.’ 

A brief pause followed, broken only by the priest’s voice. “And now, the witness,” he announced, glancing around the empty space and catching Levi’s eye. Levi cursed inwardly, remembering that Hange had left at his urging. 

‘For fucks sake.’ 

One of the soldiers caught on quickly. With a muttered, “I’ll find someone,” he strode down the aisle, pushing open the chapel doors and stepping into the storm. The silence grew heavy as they waited, the soldier’s footsteps echoing away and leaving only the rain in their place. 

After a few tense moments, the soldier returned, ushering in a grizzled farmer who looked every bit as baffled as he was drenched. The MP walked the man to the altar and said confidently, “Problem solve," 

Second hand embarrassment run through his body as the farmer approached the altar with a respectful nod, casting Levi and the bride a curious look before taking the pen offered to him. With a swift scratch of ink on the paper, the witness line was signed. 

Levi took a quick check on the bride and she seemed completely dissociated. The priest completed the ceremony with a "By the power vested in me by law I, now, pronounce you man and wife." 

He took a loud sigh of relief, at least it was over. Turning to his right to look at her and perhaps attempt to say something for the first time. He even tried to force himself to do a subtle side smile to ease out the situation, much unlike him but he wished with all his heart that he knew how to be outgoing enough to bring some easiness into the situation. 

—A soft, broken sniffle. She lifted her hand to her face, half-covering her expression and lowered her head. Her shoulders trembled just a little, the strands of damp hair falling forward, hiding her face. Her cries began to echo in the chapel. 

Levi’s throat tightened, and he swallowed, a pang of guilt pressing on him. He glanced at the priest, who seemed as serene as ever, his hands hidden inside the long sleeves of his gown. 

With a peaceful smile, the priest offered Levi a reassuring look, seeing his obvious discomfort. “Tears of happiness, I’m sure,” he replied softly. 

Before Levi could even shoot him a deadpan glance, the situation had become so awkward that the youngest cadet tried to lighten the mood by tossing a handful of rice at them. 

“Congrats…” he muttered with the least enthusiasm possible. 

But as the rice landed on her, she began to wipe her face, where most of the grains had stuck to her wet skin. Spitting a little as the water made them cling to her, she cried, “It’s in my eyes,” a small sob escaping her. 

The two cadets froze, glancing at each other before mumbling, “We should get going.” “Yeah,” they muttered, then made a hasty exit. 

Seeing her struggling, Levi quickly realized the problem and pulled out a handkerchief. “Here, wait,” he said, brushing the cloth over her face, then patting her shoulders and hair to clear away the grains of rice. 

When she finally opened her eyes—red either from the tears or the rice—she looked at him. ‘Say something,’ he thought, clenching his teeth against the uncomfortable silence. 

“We should get going; you’re soaked,” Levi finally broke the tension, noticing they were completely alone in the chapel. “Maybe you can take a shower or something.” 

“Is your house close by, sir?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Levi hesitated, feeling strangely at a loss. He lived at headquarters, of course, not in a proper household, but something about her question held an unspoken hope. “Not exactly. I stay at the Scout facility… it’s inside the forest. I was going to rent a cart, but in this weather, it wouldn’t make it through,” he explained. 

She didn’t respond, just stared out at the heavy rain pouring beyond the chapel doors. Her expression made her thoughts clear. ‘Nothing could make this day worse,’ Levi thought with a quiet huff, scratching the back of his head. “Tch.” 

She absently fiddled with the loose ring on her finger, holding it with her other hand to keep it from slipping off. Disappointment and resignation were etched across her face—until she straightened up, surprised, as something heavy draped over her shoulders. 

“There,” Levi said, pulling the green military trench coat snugly over her head. “It’s not much, but at least it’s waterproof. The last thing I need is you catching the flu less than a week into this arrangement.” 

A subtle blush rose to her cheeks, bringing a hint of colour back to her pallid face. She lifted the coat’s collar to her nose, breathing in his scent, which sent an unexpected shiver through her. She pressed her lips together, feeling strangely affected. ‘So strong,’ she thought. Though the arrangement itself felt far from ideal, her body seemed to be very glad. 

“Thank you, sir,” she murmured. 

“Levi,” he corrected her, sounding tired. 

“Huh?” 

“My name is Levi,” he repeated. “If we’re going to do this, let’s at least start by using our names.” 

“Y/N, then.” 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[stvolanis]

oh my gosh. jj acts like such a freaking virgin.

he’d get all flushed in his cheeks, his cock stirring in its confinements when your boobs bounce as you run around with Cleo on the beach. He acts like he’s never seen a nice pair of tits before! He desperately tries to cover his painfully obvious boner by readjusting himself, yet it makes him look all the more guilty as he bites his lip when his eyes meet the flush meat of your ass.

and when he finally gets to have you, he doesn’t last long. You’re grinding on top of him, your clothed cunt damp against his tan shorts—but you had to do a double take as you watched him cum in his pants. “M sorry mama, y’jus too pretty.” He whimpered when you continued to grind down onto him, his hands meeting your hips to help guide you.

he’d be completely drunk off of the taste of your pussy, ruggedly lapping at your cunt that he had the pleasure of cumming in. The bitter-sweet taste of the mixture of both of your release on his tongue had his mind spiraling, and your moans made him grind his cock onto anything he could like a bitch in heat. Just a “good boy, honey” and he’s so done for!! I love needy! virgin! subby! jj. We need more of him!! :)

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @sapriao @parkbabyj @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived

[binniesbooks]

Ok ok soo lets start with Yeonjun SINCE i think you said unti palang sya sa acc mo SOOOOOOO.. thinking abt teaserdom!yeonjun x sub!reader

Scenario isss, reader is fucking horny, its 3am and shes still awake (she has insomnia like me) she suddenly had a wave of horniness and how did she deal with that??? She masturbates, trying so hard not to make a sound since yeonjun is sleeping so pretty beside her (he's awake and aware LMAO) anddd like its not enough for her so she slowly takes yeonjun's hand and uses it to pleasure herself 👹 ( and we all know what happend after that👀 to be more detailed, yeonjun is a tease and edges reader ahhweibaiw ) the rest is yours to write fayee💓

It may not be the best BUT i thought abt this last night and i just had to request it to someone AFGRHRBRBRBRB

ALSOOO THIS IS WHAT IM IMAGING WHAT YEONJUN LOOKS LIKE IN THIS REQUEST WJSJSJSJSJSJ just change the pants into shorts hehe

• A HELPING HAND

YJ 999 .F25 2024

wc 2.2k

pairings performerbf!Yeonjun x insomniac!reader

warnings teaserdom!Yeonjun, sub!reader, self-relieving, mentions of medication for insomnia, pornographic video clips(?), light somno if you squint, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie (+ anything I've missed)

faye's note took me so long, mock board wracked my brain. So thankful classes got suspended so I took the chance to write lol. HAHAHAHAHA

special thanks to dear @aduh0308 i love you, hun.

"Goodnight, love, 'm sorry, too sleepy," Yeonjun muttered, lips pouty and voice sleepy.

"Goodnight, Jjunie, sleep tight," you answered, slowly combing your fingers through his hair.

With a low hum, you felt his hot breath against your neck. His little snores hinted that he drifted to sleep already, too tired from practicing all day.

Your eyes were so full of him today too, as you watched him repeatedly practice his dance performance, "Guilty". Yeonjun's figure was so sexy. His toned abs were revealed multiple times as he slid his hand under his shirt to hold his chin and cover his mouth.

Yeonjun is so particular in what he does, he wants everything to be perfect. So he always tries his best to get into the emotion of whatever he is doing. That’s the reason why he looks so extra sexy in the video he filmed for his performance, his white shirt riding off his abs.

Yeonjun nuzzled his face closer to your neck, unconsciously trying to find some warmth from you in your air-conditioned room.

It'd already been 4 hours since he fell asleep, however, you, on the other hand, weren't sleepy even for a bit. These past few days, you haven't had enough sleep, as your insomnia kicks every night. So when Yeonjun tossed and turned around lying flat on his back, you think of an idea to make yourself feel sleepy since your medication hasn't been helping. These past few days, you've been resorting to touching yourself to feel tired and fall asleep. But you thought, maybe tonight you should let it pass since your boyfriend was fast asleep next to you.

As you were scrolling on Yeonjun's phone, trying to find something to watch or read, you suddenly thought of opening his gallery.

You were met with an unfamiliar album entitled "for my pretty girl". The album quickly piques your interest as you open it. Your mouth hung open when you saw it was a compilation of videos where Yeonjun was clearly touching himself.

Your plan to abstain from self-relief for tonight? Revoked.

You opened one of the videos as you listened to his voice in the background.

"Mmhh... ngh... Love... Please, more..." Yeonjun's voice was so whiny, the camera kept on shaking as his abs kept on clenching. His huffs and pants got louder as the tip of his cock leaked. His shaky breath could be heard as he stopped stroking his cock, the full view made you notice how it harshly twitched, eager for touch.

"Fuck, love, I can't wait to feel you around me, I missed you," he huffs.

You opened a few more videos of Yeonjun desperately touching himself and whispering behind the camera how he badly wanted to feel you squeeze him.

Until you found yourself with your hand slowly circling your clothed clit. "Jjun...." you whispered, biting your lip to prevent any loud noise that would come out of your mouth. You placed the phone beside your head as you listened to his voice in the video whimpering and whining.

You slipped off your pajamas, quickly tossing them on the floor as you pressed your head further against your pillow, trying to suppress your moans. Your slender fingers played with your arousal, and your other hand crept under your shirt, pinching your nipples. Your breathing was ragged and shaky as you tried to suppress it once again.

Feeling a little bit needy, you carefully slid your digits inside you, curling and pumping them inside, trying to reach the right spots. Your body shook from pleasure, your lips swollen from how hard you were biting them. The squelching sound made it so filthy as you pushed your fingers in and out. "Yeonjun..." You whispered his name once again, your voice coming out as a croak. You tried your best to stay quiet because you didn't want him to wake up from you trying to relieve yourself.

Suddenly, your slender fingers felt shorter than usual. Still unsatisfied, you grabbed his hand, intertwining his fingers with you first before settling it down on your pussy. You decided to use his pretty fingers to get off. You gasped loudly when you slid his finger inside you. You didn't pay much attention to it, losing the chance to notice that his fingers were a bit stiff as if he were controlling them. Holding his hand, you guide his fingers in and out of you, desperate to cum.

With a few more pumps, a little bit more of biting your lips, and a heart-pounding experience to suppress your moans, you were just about the edge. "A b-bit more," you muttered, bucking your hips up. "'m so close, 'm gonna cum," you huffed, eyes closed, head pressed on the pillow.

Then his hand stopped. No, you didn't get to cum yet. His hand came to a pause from moving, hell, it was even pulled away from you. You whined from the empty feeling until you heard a rustling sound from beside you.

"You're using my hand to get off? How dirty are you, pretty girl?" Yeonjun chuckled, turning to his side and using his elbow to support his body to face you, giving his fingers kitten licks.

Your eyes widened as you pulled the blanket over your body, stuttering your excuses, "N-no! I can explain love, p-please this is.. it's not w-what it looks like!"

"Hmm, fuck, you taste so sweet, love," Yeonjun moaned, still sucking on his slick-covered fingers.

"Yeonjun," you gulped.

Yeonjun laid on his back again, pushing his white shirt up, exposing his toned abs as he ran his hand under it. "Mhh..." he moaned teasingly, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Stop that," you pouted, quietly sliding your hand under the sheets, trying to relieve yourself again. You slipped your finger inside you again, though your silent gasp didn't go past Yeonjun without him noticing it.

"My desperate girlfriend," he cooed as he hovered above you, pulling the sheets away, catching you red-handed. He pulled your hand and sucked on your fingers as his moans vibrated through your skin.

You were too embarrassed to look at him, so you tried covering your eyes.

"What makes you so shy now that you weren't earlier?" he whispered, lowering his head on your tummy. The hem of your shirt was caught between his teeth as he pulled it up. He looked over you with his hooded eyes as he dipped his head down once again, planting a kiss on your upper abdomen.

You couldn't help but tangle your fingers on his hair as you watched him. Yeonjun pressed his tongue flat on your burning skin, licking a long stripe from your navel and up.

His kisses moved down to your waist, giving it a few splotchy red marks. Without tearing his gaze on you, his tongue grazed your clit, making you dig your heels on the bed and arch your back, too desperate to feel him.

Yeonjun held both sides of your waist, his thumb gently massaging your flushed skin, as he continuously teasingly grazed your clit with his tongue.

Just when you thought you could relax for a bit, he suddenly licked a long stripe on your folds, making your body shiver and your grip tighten against his soft locks. You lifted your hips up, trying to meet his lips and tongue again, but he just pushed you down, making you whine.

"No no no no, pretty. Have sum' patience," he cooed, landing a slap on your thigh and making you yelp.

Dipping his head down once again, his sharp tongue prodded at your hole. His hum resonated around the four corners of the room as he felt you tug his hair a little bit harder.

"Fuck, Yeonjun, please..." you whined, trying to lift your hips again.

He hoisted your legs on his shoulder, tucking his hand under your thighs as he started to lap on your wet folds.

"S-stop... Ahh!"

Your squirming and trembling figure made him pull you closer to his mouth as he ate you out. Your heels digging onto his back as you feel yourself getting wetter, your fingers clutching the sheets underneath you. The obscene sounds he made makingthe knot in your stomach tighten.

"Close... So close..." you whimpered, trying to grind on his mouth.

But to your disappointment, Yeonjun pulled away, his nose, mouth, and chin glistening with your arousal. "W-what the hell!" you exclaimed, eyes teary.

"You wanna cum that badly, sweetie?" Yeonjun smirked.

"Please, please, please," you pleaded, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as your pussy clenches around nothing.

Yeonjun swiftly removes his thin shirt, grabbing both of your hands and tying his shirt around your wrists. "Only if you become a good girl for me," he said, tightening the makeshift rope.

"I'll be good, love, please. P-please let me cum, l-let me cum," you whined.

"Really?" he taunts. "Even if I do this?" Yeonjun slid his two fingers inside you and immediately withdrew it.

Your thighs were shaking as you yelp, "Wanna cum, wanna cum, please!" you cried loudly.

Yeonjun could only chuckle at you as he watched you rub your thighs together.

"Aren't you too horny, pretty girl? My videos made you this horny? Hm?" His fingers crept up your body, twisting your nipples in the process.

"Fuck fuck fuck! Ahh! More... Hng!" You didn’t even know the words or noises coming out of your mouth, you just desperately wanted to cum right now.

"Look at you, you're such a mess. Still unsatisfied even after using my videos and fingers to get off," he snickered.

"You should be a little patient, darling. Just like this guy in here," he added, palming himself through his black shorts.

"D'you wanna get my dick wet?" he asked, kissing your temple. You nodded frantically, unsure of what you were agreeing to, but you just need him.

Yeonjun rose to his knees between your body, pulling his shorts down a little to expose his hardened cock, kissing his lower abdomen. You bit your lip as you watched him repeatedly pump his cock.

"Mhhmp, this feels nice, fuck," he smirked, closing his eyes as he looks up. His adams apple bobbed u p and down as his mouth opened and closed simultaneously from the pleasure.

"Want to feel you, Jjun," you pouted, rubbing your thighs together again.

"You wanna feel me? Wanna be my cocksleeve, baby?" he smirked. You nodded at him again, biting your lips as you imagined him fucking your brains out like he usually did.

"Patience, pretty," he giggled, pressing the tip of his cock on your swollen lips.

Just when you were about to open your mouth and suck him, he pulled away. "Nah-uh, you're a bad girl, so eager for a mere cock. What are you, a slut?" he frowned, making you feel embarrassed. You covered your face using your tied hands.

"Covering your face? Wanna miss the fun part?"

When you peeked between your fingers, you saw him stroking his cock as his pre-cum shines on the tip of his cock.

"Whenever I'm not with you, I touch myself. I made a compilation just for you to watch how I badly wanna fuck you. Fuck-- " His brows creased, feeling the hair on the back of his head stand up.

"Not wanting anything other than to fuck you when I'm stressed," he muttered, his grip on his cock tightening as you heard him grunt.

"J-junnie, please, wanna cum with you," you whimpered, not being able to watch him any further.

"Sure!" he smirked as he aligned himself against your throbbing core.

You felt the good stretch as you gasped and a guttural moan ripped through him.

Yeonjun started moving inside, strings of curses coming out of his mouth as he felt you clench. He made sure to thrust deep to reach the parts where you and his fingers couldn't. Yeonjun practically pressing his hips on yours just to make you feel full sent you reeling.

You looped your arms around his neck to pull him closer, your fingers tangled on his locks once again as you felt him raw inside you.

"B-bit more... I'm gonna cum--"

Yeonjun still inside you, edging himself at the same as his body trembled from the sudden halt . "Fuck," he whispered.

"No no no no please, please no baby, I'm so close, I'm so close please," you cried out loud.

"H-hah, you're so desperate, pretty girl," he huffed, pressing his hips against you once again.

He then lifted his hips up for a bit. "Fuck yourself on me, show me how desperate you are, " he taunted.

No need for him to say it twice. You started moving your hips, fucking yourself on his cock, and burying him inside you as deep as possible. Until he decided to meet your hips halfway, making you feel him on your throat. The shallow thrusts make you whimper, and your body trembles.

"Gonna fill you up, need to fill you," he muttered through gritted teeth, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

"Please, please, please!"

With a few more thrusts, your body convulsed, and strings of moans coming from you caused Yeonjun to bust.

"Fucking shit!" he hissed as he let his head fall against your chest. He slowly moved for a little while, letting the two of you ride out your high, draining himself inside you.

His body felt burning hot against your skin as your hearts thumped hard together. Your pants and huffs filled the room, which made it feel steamy even when the air- conditioning is on.

[cinnabunwanda]

Eating out ✰ Natasha Ramnoff ⌇DRABBLES

content warning — smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, clit play (sort of?), dirty talk

pairing — fem reader x natasha romanoff

summary — Nat, captivated by your soft lips, manipulates her, causing her to moan your name. You feel guilty for Steve and Bucky, causing her to swell and twitch.

word count — 712

authors note — hey guys! so sorry that I haven't been posting i've been away with my husband. its also hard to post and get out of bed when you have depression lmao. so I will try and be regular when posting ty all!!

The softness of your lips always surprised Nat, even though she had been in this position countless times before. Each time, the teasing touch of your tongue against her sensitive folds sent shivers down her spine and left her moaning your name.

"Mmm, you're so good at that, baby," she moaned breathlessly, loving how effortlessly you could bring her to bliss. It was a high that she knew she could never achieve without you.

"You like that, don't you?" You smirked confidently as you continued to pleasure her with your skilled tongue.

"Yes!" Nat's cry only motivated you further as you worked your magic on her. You didn't feel the need to hold down her hips or ask her to be quiet; the feeling of her grinding against your face only added to the intensity. And as for any noise...well, let's just say the Avengers were used to your "private activities."

Your hair was tugged gently by Nat's hand as she reached new levels of pleasure, sending a deliciously painful sensation through your scalp and adding to the excitement coursing through your body. This was what you loved most - being on your knees on the plush carpet (installed by Tony at Nat's request) and worshiping every inch of her pale skin. Your plump lips danced along her spread thighs, leaving teasing kisses and playful nips on her hips.

But finally, they would find their way to her most sensitive spot - her swollen clit. With a soothing rhythm of sucking and flicking with your tongue, you could feel yourself grinning as Nat whined and squirmed beneath you. The little bud between your teeth would send shocks of pleasure through both of you as it was pulled out in a slow motion before being released back into place.

"Please." That one word was music to your ears and fueled your own desire for her. It was a sound that you craved - the way Nat's lips formed and shaped around the word, begging for more.

"Please what, princess? Do you want me to stop?" For added emphasis, you pulled away completely, leaving her body cold and craving your touch.

"No!" Nat's whispered plea was met with her hands reaching for you, her hips wriggling on the bed as she tried to get closer to you. The covers twisted and bunched around her hips as she squirmed in pleasure under your skillful touch.

"Oh? So my little baby wants me to make her cum?" Your voice was teasing, but also a bit cruel as you pushed your lips into a pout and ran your hands over her quivering thighs.

"Please, please make me cum." It wasn't often that Nat begged; she enjoyed being in control. But today, just like every now and then, you convinced her to give up that control and let you take care of her.

"Say my name. Moan it, scream it, and I'll make you cum." You demanded this promise from her, a devious smirk playing on your lips when she whispered your name. "Does it feel good to say my name, baby? Do you like having it on your tongue?"

She screamed your name this time, so loud that you almost felt guilty for Steve and Bucky - their enhanced hearing would definitely pick up on what was happening between the two of you. But you couldn't bring yourself to care as you leaned in again, ready to pleasure your girl.

When she came, it was loud and beautiful. Nat's mouth was open in a silent scream - the telltale sign that she was seeing stars - while her legs shook and hips thrust, chasing your mouth as you leaned back to watch.

Your fingers glided over her thighs, eventually reaching her clit in small circles to help prolong her orgasm. You watched hungrily as Nat's plump lips were pulled between her teeth, biting and manipulating them until they were raw and swollen.

"That's it, just like that." Nat was coming back down to earth, your soothing voice bringing her back as her chest heaved and thighs twitched under your touch.

But your fingers still remained on her clit, slow yet persistent as you hummed thoughtfully.

"I think I want you to do that again; maybe I can make you squirt this time."

©Elena do not copy, edit, or translate my works.

[fangswbenefits]

The Arrangement (5) - Confrontation

Summary: Living under the same roof as Astarion was proving to me more of a challenge than you had anticipated.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: Nightmare. Hurt/Comfort. Innuendo. Heavy use of sarcasm hahaha.

Word count: 4.4k

Previous chapter. Ao3. Series Masterlist

If anyone had suggested a few days ago that you'd find yourself living under the same roof as Astarion, you would have called them delusional and point them to the nearest infirmary for a mental check.

But the wheels of fate turned in mysterious ways, and a mere glance at the man sitting across from you was proof enough of that.

The flames swirling and crisping in the nearby fireplace cast the most delicate yellow and orange tint on his pale complexion as he flipped the pages of a book you had lent him.

You had tried to focus on your own reading, but you just couldn't help but to occasionally shift your gaze to him.

Gods… it was nigh criminal how handsome this man was.

It was as if he had been hand-carved by someone intended on wreaking havoc in the name of beauty.

And, as far as you were concerned, they had thoroughly succeeded.

Suddenly, he lifted his head and he met your gaze dead-on, unblinkingly.

So handsome…

A cold shiver ran up the back of your neck, but you found herself unable to look away. It was as if, in that moment, you had managed to block out everything around you but him. The longer you stared at him, the more acutely you felt detached from reality.

“May I kiss you?”

You blinked a few times. “What?”

His eyes narrowed, one eyebrow raised in sheer perplexity.

“No need to look so offended, darling,” he said with a scoff, rising from his seat and snatching the candle holder from the table to your right. “I was merely asking for this. I apologise if the request is out of the realm of your ‘one hundred good deeds I must perform before I perish’ list.”

You blinked again.

What?

You glanced around, but judging from the lack of reaction from both Gale and Shadowheart, you figured that maybe he hadn't actually asked to kiss you.

Great. Now I'm hallucinating…

He returned to his padded chair with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I've seen more light in the deepest corners of the Shadowlands.”

Maybe sleep deprivation was finally taking its toll on you, rendering you delirious.

Regardless, the illusion had been enough to flare your heart, and you hurriedly focused your attention on the book in your hands.

“I had quite forgotten how peacefully silent it can be without having you around, Astarion.” Shadowheart spoke as she tended to a few rolls of parchment and letters.

“Well, you can thank Wyll for that.”

She ignored him. “All you do is complain.”

You felt a storm brewing on the horizon as you lifted your eyes to glance at him.

Astarion let out a cynical laugh. “You're one to speak.”

Shadowheart was now scowling. Deeply.

“Besides, that is a rather disingenuous accusation. Want proof?” he asked, clearing his throat. “So, Gale - what are you reading that has you scribbling about like a mad man?”

The wizard snapped out of his nose-deep dive and brought his quill to a halt with a beaming smile. “Glad you ask, my friend. ‘A Visual Guide to Baldur's Gate's Exquisite Cuisine’. First edition. Hand-signed by the finest chefs in the city. What a marvel, indeed.”

As expected, Astarion looked as unimpressed as ever, but you interjected before he could mouth anything obtuse.

“That sounds rather exciting, Gale.”

He nodded eagerly. “A small guilty pleasure of mine, I must say. I'm taking down some notes, so that I can - hopefully - prepare some delectable dishes for us.”

Shadowheart's eyes remained fixed on Astarion as if awaiting for him to burst at any moment.

He exchanged a quick glance with you before muttering, “Unbelievable.”

“I think it's to be commended that he cares enough to try,” you said sweetly, earning a scornful glare from him. “I can't wait for you to showcase your abilities, Gale.”

“My sentiments exactly, dear friend.”

Astarion chuckled darkly. “‘Abilities’ as in setting the kitchen ablaze, or…”

You shot him a death glare.

He shrugged. “You two are a match made in the hells.”

This had you snap your book closed with a loud thud, eyeing him defiantly. “So what constitutes an engaging reading to you, Astarion? Murderous ploys?”

His lips curled into a devious smile. “Something along those lines. Although I do enjoy indulging in some debauchery from time to time.”

You weren't sure Gale would set the kitchen ablaze with his cooking skills, but Astarion's blunt and crass words sure did that to your cheeks.

Shadowheart scoffed.

“There are some interesting books in my collection,” he continued, clearly enjoying your loss of composure. “I will gladly lend you some… or maybe offer a guided tour through my favourite pieces?”

You needed to change the subject.

Fast.

You were most definitely fighting a losing battle.

This was Astarion's playground, and he would always come out victorious.

“Must you always resort to such vulgarity?” Shadowheart sneered, shaking her head in disapproval.

“I'm afraid the city is fresh out of those who know how to properly enjoy themselves, and we can't all be dullards, darling.”

You cleared your throat. “So, Gale… you're leaving for Waterdeep soon enough.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Yes. If all goes well, we shall have access to the Wish spell soon enough, my vampling friend.”

Astarion crossed his arms. “Finally some progress.”

“Maybe you should be more thankful.” You said with a frown.

“As should you,” he shot back. “No more need to offer your blood to me.”

Fair enough.

“Much to your disappointment, I imagine.” Shadowheart chimed in.

But before he could retort, you heard a rising commotion outside that only came to a halt as the front door burst open.

Lae'zel came through, carrying what appeared to be a very much deceased wild boar across her shoulders as if it was nothing more than a sack of feathers.

She kicked the door shut at once, nostrils flaring. “Tsk'va! What are those two doing outside?”

“House arrest.” Astarion informed.

Bringing the carcass to the kitchen table, Lae'zel locked eyes with you, visibly annoyed.

“I had plans to rescue you from that prison. And I would have had it my way had it not been for Gale and his… morals.”

Gale bolted from his seat, suddenly looking rather distressed. “Lae'zel, we've spoken about this before and agreed not to bring bleeding carcasses into our home.”

She glared at him. “You alone agreed to it - I had no part in it.”

He gave her an exasperated look, picking up a piece of cloth to wipe away the strands of blood that had begun to run along the wooden surface.

“If this falls on the carpet, it will be a nightmare to remove the stains.”

Astarion tutted. “Darling, that carpet is so hideous that being splattered with carrion blood would be a vast improvement.”

You rose to your feet, rushing to join Lae's zel, who quickly placed her hand on your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

Your lips tugged into a genuine smile.

To her, this was the equivalent of ‘I am glad you're safe and I care for you’ and it warmed your heart beyond measure.

Naturally, Astarion quickly joined your side, earning Lae'zel's disdainful gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, it was a two-for-one type of deal, wasn't it?” Astarion mocked, turning to you. “Free one criminal and get two on house arrest.”

Unfortunately for Astarion, Lae'zel had little patience to entertain his sarcastic remarks and merely scoffed.

“I would have easily rescued from that prison, you know?” She gave your shoulder another squeeze and you nodded. “Those frail guards are no match for a githyanki.”

“On that much we can agree.” He mused.

She gave him a stern look. “I would have left you there.”

“We fought a giant brain, a scheming squid, and a whole parade of lunatics side by side, in case you've forgotten, my dear nest of vipers friend,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe you ought to show more gratitude.”

You expected her to snap at him, but she merely pressed her lips and gave him a nod.

That would be as far as she'd go, though.

“Well, as much as I enjoy this ‘family’ reunion, I'm off to my room,” Shadowheart said from a distance, already heading towards the staircase. “Please do not maim each other in my absence - there's only so much healing I can provide.”

You chuckled and she smiled warmly at you.

“Say, Lae'zel…” Astarion started, circling the boar with utmost interest. “I would hate for perfectly adequate blood to go to waste.”

The implication in his words wasn't subtle at all, and she groaned. “I thought you feeding on our friend was enough.”

Your stomach lurched violently.

He scoffed. “There is no such thing as ‘enough’ blood for a vampire. Besides, she's the main course… this would be more of an aperitif, if you will.”

Now, you felt positively sick to your core.

A wave of nausea and repulsion gripped you tight.

“It would be a mutually beneficial situation - I save Gale from a mental breakdown, sparing you tue ordeal, and I also get to quench my hunger.”

Gale grumbled something in agreement.

But you felt the sudden wish to be swallowed whole by some magical hole in the ground.

The way he referred to you as nothing more than food prompted a visceral reaction from you, and you feared you might empty the contents of your stomach from it alone.

“Um… I'll go get some sleep… I'm too tired,” you said dismissively, already pacing towards the corridor that led to your room. “Have a good night.”

Astarion called after you, but you didn't bother looking back.

But before you could turn the doorknob, you heard light steps approaching and firm fingers gripping your forearm.

Astarion.

His face was void of any amusement. “You're upset.”

You pulled free from his grasp. “A neat observation. No wonder you're such a skilled rogue.”

His brows furrowed lightly. “What's the matter?”

“It seems that I'm only worthy of your attention when it comes to you treating me as nothing but a meal, to hurl your sarcastic remarks at. Oh - and unless I'm on the verge of death,” you said, counting on each finger.

He seemed quite taken aback, his features twisting into a scowl. “You really adore selling yourself short, don't you?”

“You won't even deny it.”

“Then what sort of attention do you want from me?” He asked, taking a step closer, the sudden proximity catching you off-guard. “Do enlighten me.”

You glared at him in silence for a moment, vaguely wondering how the two of you had gotten to this point in your relationship, where everything seemed so… off.

Astarion was standing in front of you, but it wasn't truly him.

He was there, but not really.

He seemed so detached from the Astarion you had fallen for, and a part of you loathed that you had allowed yourself to get so attached to him in the first place.

Eventually, you heaved a deep sigh as he awaited your reply. “The sort of attention I don't have to beg for.”

His face softened briefly and he parted his lips only to press them close together again as if he had decided against speaking.

Right.

You swallowed hard. “Have a good night.”

The hopeful part of you half-expected him to stop you from walking away as you closed the door behind you, but he did no such thing.

You pressed your back against it, taking a deep breath, feeling as if you had just lost something.

Had you been too dramatic?

Did it even matter at this point?

Maybe it was better off this way.

You moved to scrub your face clean in the washbasin, preparing yourself to get some rest before the morning came.

Whatever was of your relationship with Astarion would have to wait for you to be able to think more clearer.

Slipping into your nightdress, you allowed yourself to fall on your bed and onto your stomach with a muffled thud, wanting to do nothing more than to scream into the covers, but remained still instead.

After what felt like hours of restlessly rolling beneath the sheets, you felt your mind lighten and were able to find solace in the peace and quiet.

That was until you heard a distant voice.

A woman's voice.

Her voice.

“Go on. Bleed her dry for me…”

You felt the mattress dip slightly and your eyes snapped open only to find Astarion baring his fangs.

And then he was on you, pinning you frozen with both hands.

“No - stop! Get off!”

He didn't hold back and you felt a familiar sting tear through your neck, his cold lips sprawling across your skin.

“She's so pathetic. Just kill her. Put her out of her misery.”

“Get off!” You cried out, feeling his weight pinning you down.

He didn't waver and you felt your blood being drained from you alarmingly fast as you tried your best to yank free from his vicious grip.

You were going to die.

He was going to kill you.

“Stop! Please - Astarion!”

Something was squeezing your shoulder and you tried to squirm away from the increasing pressure.

You felt him chuckle in amusement against your skin and that was what killed you first.

“ASTARION!”

The grip on you kept on increasing and you realised someone was shaking you.

“Wake up.”

How was he speaking whilst fiercely feeding on you?

Were you already dead?

Your cries turned into uncontrollable sobs and you felt like breathing was no longer an option.

“Wake up!”

The shove against your shoulder was too fierce this time, and you jolted violently, feeling the pressure on top of you only faintly ease.

“Get the fuck off me!”

You tried to conjure a spell - any spell - that might help you set yourself free.

He called out your name and your eyes snapped open at once, only to see Astarion hovering over you, hand now pressed firmly against your lips, muffling your sobs.

Bergamot.

Rosemary.

Aged brandy.

It was him.

He was there.

The nightmare faded with each passing second, and, for the longest time, all you could hear were your laboured breaths as you struggled to step into reality.

Your eyes were blurred from the tears welling up, and you watched his lips part to utter something, but the pounding in your ears prevented you from understanding a single word.

He eventually dropped the hand from your mouth, staring at you with an understanding look on his face.

“You're safe."

For a split second, you wondered if this was truly your Astarion, and once you asserted that it was truly him sitting beside you, you pushed yourself from the mattress, looping your arms around his neck.

He took you in his arms, gently pressing his lips to your temple.

“You're safe. I'm here and I've got you."

You couldn't stop the tears from streaming down as you pressed your face to his shoulder, seeking any sliver of comfort he could spare you.

The door to your room burst open.

“What happened? What did you do?”

Shadowheart's accusatory tone ground on your already fragile nerves.

“She was having a nightmare.”

His cool hand came to the back of your head, further pressing you into him.

“Oh. Another one…”

You felt your heartbeat soothe and your breathing gradually even out.

But his embrace felt too much like coming home for you to part from him, so you didn't, allowing him to rock you gently in his arms.

“It's become more frequent as of late.” She said with a hint of sadness to her voice.

Astarion kept his lips pressed to your temple, grounding you.

You eventually pulled back from him with a loud sniffle. “I'm fine. I am sorry I worried you…”

Shadowheart approached you, kindness on her face. “Nonsense. I am here for you - we are here for you,” she added, glancing at Astarion. “Always.”

“I'll just try to get some rest… you two may go…” you stammered in between a few sobs.

Shadowheart didn't move and neither did Astarion.

You rubbed your puffy and wet eyes. “I mean it. It will be fine.”

“Very well,” Shadowheart drawled out reluctantly. “But please let me know if there is anything I can help with.”

You gave her a reassuring nod paired with a comforting smile.

She returned the gesture and excused herself, clicking the door shut behind her.

Your gaze shifted to him. “You can leave, too.”?

He scoffed. “No.”

“What?”

“You'll have to stake me.”

You were utterly confused by his perseverance.

“I am fine, Astarion. I am thankful for your help, but… you don't have to stay.”

He nodded. “I don't have to, but I want to.”

Your heart clenched tightly in your chest.

And then your eyes fell to his shoulder.

“Oh, my…” you winced at the sight of the soppy fabric of his shirt. “I'm sorry for that…”

He looked confused at first, but followed your line of sight and smiled. “Was this an excuse to get me out of my shirt?”

His playful jab immediately had you chuckle, rolling your eyes at him.

“Not to mention that I've been covered in all sorts of your bodily fluids,” he went on, earning a surprised glare from you. “This might be my…” he paused brielfy, as if evaluating his options. “Ah - my third favourite, yes.”

You should have known better than to take the evident glare, but you could really use the distraction.

“What are the first two, then?”

You hadn't even realised your nightdress had come undone at the front until he reached out to pull back the sleeve that had slid down your arm.

Glancing down, you couldn't help the rush of heat on your cheeks as your breasts were barely covered at all.

“Blood, naturally,” he said in a low voice, tying each set of strings with unmatched dexterity, keeping your modesty preserved. “And your-”

But before he could reply, you quickly pressed your forefinger to his lips, eyes widening as you felt him smile under your touch and pressing a soft kiss.

You felt as though you might implode.

His hands moved up your chest, tying up the last knots.

“There - all neatly wrapped up like a nice little gift.” He said, amusement coating his words.

He was too good at getting under your skin.

More than you were willing to admit, especially out loud.

“Thank you for making me laugh.” You said truthfully, pushing aside how he had so easily made you feel all heated up.

“I aim to please.”

His words hit you like a thousand knives.

“You're more than that…” You said, wanting to reassure him that he didn't need to resort to honeyed words and calculated moves to create a meaningful connection with someone.

But your statement had the opposite effect, and he frowned slightly.

“Don't. Do not start…”

You swallowed and nodded in understanding. “I didn't mean to offend.”

He shook his head, adjusting the fabric of your nightdress over your shoulders. “You didn't. I merely do not wish to make this about me.”

You were slightly taken aback.

“I know all too well the burden of nightmares,” he explained. “Even if elves don't indulge in conventional sleep, we are still prone to nightmares when we trance.”

Oh.

“And I would hate for you to be plagued like that.”

You lowered your gaze, feeling extremely exposed all of a sudden.

“So tell me, darling, when did these start?” He asked, shifting closer to you. “And why were you screaming my name?”

You felt a lump swell in your throat.

He placed his finger under your chin, and pressed upwards until your eyes met his.

“What haunts you?”

You.

“Can we just… not…” You asked, already feeling tears prickling in the corners of your eyes.

Reason told you that a heartfelt conversation with Astarion was long overdue, but you didn't feel ready.

You still felt too startled and too vulnerable.

He had hurt you in more ways than one, even if unconsciously done at times.

“We don't have to talk about it.”

You nodded, a few tears rolling down. “Thank you.”

“We can push all of that aside, even if just for tonight.”

Your heart hammered fast inside you.

He then cradled your face in his hands, leaning in to press his lips to each cheek, kissing your tears away.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he trailed down, inching closer to your lips.

A shudder coursed throughout your entire body, barely able to contain the anticipation.

Please kiss me…

His thumbs rubbed slow circles on your flushed cheeks and your lips parted as his ghosted yours.

Astarion…

Almost there.

You could almost taste him.

Your hands came to grip his wrists tightly, silently urging him to take you.

Please… please…

As your heart thudded faster and faster, you gasped when he quickly kissed the tip of your nose before pressing his lips to your forehead.

You couldn't deny the overwhelming wave of disappointment that washed over you, even if, deep down, you realised it was probably the best course of action, considering how vulnerable you still felt from the nightmare.

A few more tears spilled over, which he quickly brushed away before pulling back.

“I can stay until you fall asleep.”

Your heart dropped.

Everything was conditional with him.

It was always meant to come to an end, eventually.

He would stay with you… but only until you drifted off to another nightmare, perhaps.

It was as if he couldn't simply stay with you.

You shook your head with a sniffle, letting go of him. “No. You can go… but thank you for this.”

“I can stay.”

“... until I fall asleep.” You finished his sentence.

He nodded, eyes locking with yours. “Or for as long as you need me.”

You felt ridiculous from the way your heart immediately skipped a beat.

“Will you hug me?”

He shifted back against the headboard and sprawled his arms out to you with a sly grin. “Come here, darling.”

For a brief moment, you saw your Astarion again.

Open and caring.

You scooted over to rest your body against his, smiling softly as he placed his arm around you, trailing absent-minded caresses along your arm.

His coldness felt comfortable even in the dead of night, and you wrapped your arm around his torso, enjoying the silence.

“Am I too cold?”

You're perfect.

You shook your head vehemently.

But he still reached out to grab the blanket at your feet, draping over your frame.

“You are shivering, you fool.” He whispered and you could hear the smile in his remark.

You snuggled up against him, wishing you could freeze this moment in time.

Slowly but surely, and lulled by his caresses, you felt exhaustion take over, your eyelids feeling progressively heavier.

Maybe this was all a dream.

Maybe you'd wake up only to find that this had never happened.

That you hadn't felt your Astarion once again.

His chin was resting atop your head and your heart skipped yet another beat.

“Astarion?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened to us…”

The hand on your arm stilled for a moment and he hushed you. “Just rest.”

Your eyelids did feel heavy, and you could recognise your own brain fighting away your sleep, but you still wanted to know.

You needed to know what had gone so terribly wrong.

Especially when the man holding you in his arms had just provided immeasurable comfort.

“I miss you… us…” You heard yourself mumble under your breath.

He did utter something unintelligible, but you were far too exhausted to ask for a repeat.

Your warm body slumped against his cold one as he lulled you into sleep with the rhythmic caresses on your back.

It seemed that this time, your nightmare had started and ended with him.

Morning came and he was gone.

Of course he was.

Even with your windows barred from the sun, he had still chosen to leave.

He had tucked you under the bedsheets and warm blankets.

You had nearly forgotten what a good night of sleep was ever since the nightmares had taken root in your mind.

His scent lingered all around you and it was impossible to escape it.

You eventually pushed yourself up to sit in silence, going over the events of a couple of hours ago.

Why did he always leave in the end?

Why couldn't you just bring yourself to move on from him?

You could have taken the time to open up to him about how you felt, but you were so afraid to push him away.

He had his own vulnerabilities and he didn't need yours weighing him down, too.

You lazily scrambled out of bed, slipping into your robe, ready for a new day.

As you made your way down the corridor, you began to hear heated voices coming from the kitchen.

“Must we all live in darkness because of you?”

You found Astarion sitting by the table, seemingly unbothered by Lae'zel's snarky remarks, the room plunged in darkness, keeping the scorching sun at bay.

“Oh please, feel free to address your complaints to the Grand Duke.”

Gale saw you first and offered a warm smile. “How are you feeling, my friend?”

You hugged yourself, forcing a smile. “I am well, thank you.”

Astarion turned his head to you, annoyance giving way to a sliver of concern. “Did you manage to get some rest?”

You nodded, your heart immediately reacting to his presence.

“Shall I brew some chamomile tea?” Gale offered eagerly, moving about the kitchen to gather the supplies.

“Thank you,” you said, glancing around. “Where is Shadowheart?”

“She headed out to the apothecary,” Gale said, placing the kettle by the fireplace. “She's keen on helping you out with these nightmares.”

Guilt hit you.

Of course she had.

Shadowheart had held your hand through so many perils, yet you couldn't help but to feel guilty that she was searching for help when the solution to your problem was right in front of you.

And he kept glaring at you, as if studying your every move.

A soft knock on the front door snapped you from your thoughts, and you went to push it open, revealing the visitor.

No.

No fucking way.

You immediately slammed the door shut, feeling rage swirl inside you.

“Who is it?” Gale asked.

“No one.”

Then your gaze met Astarion's whose eyebrow was arched in confusion.

“That is no way to treat a guest.” The woman outside chirped happily.

Ava.

Next chapter: Broken - November 26

Series Masterlist . I don't keep taglists, so feel to follow this story on Ao3 🩷

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | Series M.list

✒ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly!)

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

word count: tbd

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, alcohol consumption, sexism in the media and business world, morally grey characters, toxic relationships, mentions of therapy, abandonment issues, and explicit sexual content (specified per chapter)

playing: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: ik what you're thinking! This header is low effort but it's what i got for now 😫 forgive me pls! Also yeah its another fricken taekook love triangle-ish bc I can't let this scenario go. Was supposed to be a oneshot but here we are...i hope you enjoy! 🌹❤

Chapters

༓ chapter i —

"I lie to my heart 'cause I thought you felt it" [3.3k]

༓ chapter ii —

"You can't light a fire, if the candle's melted" [4.5k]

༓ chapter iii —

"No you don't have to love me" [5.3k]

༓ chapter iv —

"Don't act like I mean nothing" [11.3k]

༓ chapter v —

"Untake this heart" (14k)

༓ chapter vi —

“A brand-new start”

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[its-avalon-08]

ADORE UR ANGST! Can you do a lando norris x y/n where lando is upset with y/n because she wasnt listening when he was ranting about something that happened. He feels annoyed. Y/N doesnt know why he's upset but then she realises. she tries to apoligise

can i just say i love it when y/n messes up, because writing reader groveling is my guilty pleasure <3 thanks anon

look up from your fucking phone (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - alot of fighting, y/n is being annoying, angst, fluffy ending

Lando slammed the apartment door shut, the echo bouncing off the bare walls of their new place in Monaco. He threw his helmet on the couch, the familiar orange a stark contrast to the simmering red of his mood.

"Y/N, did you see that?!" he yelled, stomping towards the kitchen.

Y/N was hunched over the counter, phone glued to her ear, a frown etched on her face. "Ugh, why won't this load?..." she trailed off, finally noticing Lando's stormy entrance.

"Didn't you see what Yuki pulled out there?!" Lando practically exploded. "That dive bomb into Turn 12? I could've been wiped out!"

Y/N finally peeled her phone away from her ear. "Yeah, I saw it. Sounds scary," she said, her voice flat. She scrolled through her phone again, a picture of a cupcake taking center screen.

Lando's anger intensified. "Scary? Y/N, it was reckless! He could've ruined both our races!" He gestured wildly with his gloved hands. "And all he gets is a five-second penalty? That's a joke!"

Y/N sighed, a sound of exasperation that sent a fresh wave of irritation through Lando. "Look, I'm sure you'll bounce back. Maybe get some revenge on him next race?" She offered a tight smile, her eyes still glued to the phone.

Lando felt a knot tighten in his chest. "That's it? No 'are you okay?' No 'that was a dirty move?'" His voice dropped to a low growl. "Don't you even care?"

Y/N finally looked up, startled. "Of course I care, Lando! I just... I had a really stressful day too, okay?" She gestured vaguely at the phone. "Work stuff."

The knot in Lando's chest unraveled, replaced by a hollow ache. "Right," he muttered, his voice devoid of its usual spark. "Work stuff is always more important than your boyfriend getting wrecked on the track, apparently."

Y/N's eyes widened. "Hey, that's not fair! I wouldn't say that." She reached out a hand, but Lando flinched away.

"Just forget it," he said, his voice tight. "I need a shower."

He stormed past her, the slam of the bathroom door echoing through the apartment. Y/N stared after him, the phone clattering to the counter with a forgotten thud. The file which had now loaded mocked her from the screen.

Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She'd been so caught up in her own problems, she hadn't realized Lando was having a terrible day. Shame washed over her as she remembered his frustrated yells, his need for support.

She jumped up, rushing to the bathroom door. "Lando, wait!" she called out, her voice laced with panic. "I'm so sorry, I was just..."

Silence.

She tried the knob, but it wouldn't budge. He must've locked it. Lando, who never locked the bathroom door. A cold dread filled her.

He was mad. Really mad. And it was all her fault.

The silence stretched on for what felt like hours. Dinner, usually a time for shared laughter and stories, was a tense affair. Y/N cooked Lando's favorite pasta dish, but it sat untouched on the table, growing cold beside her untouched plate. Every time she stole a glance at the bathroom door, a knot tightened in her stomach.

Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, she cleared her throat. "Lando," she began tentatively, "I know you're upset, and I just wanted to say again that I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have been on the phone. I was just..."

The clatter of the bathroom door slamming shut cut her off. Lando stormed into the living room, his face a mask of fury.

"Just what?" he spat out, his voice raw with emotion. "Just another bad day at work for you? Don't you get it, Y/N? Today was a nightmare! Yuki nearly took me out, the car felt off the entire race, and to top it all off, the media keeps hounding me about missing out on the podium."

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "And you," he pointed a finger at her, his voice cracking, "you weren't even there for me. You were too busy with your stupid phone to even see how much I was fucking hurting."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes. "Lando, I-"

He cut her off again, his voice laced with a raw vulnerability that ripped at her heartstrings. "No, Y/N! You don't get to talk now. I had the worst fucking day of my life, and your sorry does. not. fix. that. You listening to me, maybe even caring, might have. But you weren't there. And frankly, right now, I don't even know if you care at all."

He stormed past her, grabbing his helmet from the couch. "I'm going for a drive. Don't wait up." The slam of the front door echoed through the apartment, leaving Y/N standing alone in the cold, sterile silence. Tears streamed down her face, a silent apology echoing in the empty room. She had messed up, badly. And now, she had to find a way to fix it, even if it meant facing Lando's anger and rebuilding the trust she had so carelessly shattered.

Lando's car tore down the familiar winding roads, the roar of the engine a poor substitute for the roar of frustration in his chest. Tears, hot and angry, blurred his vision as he navigated the steep climb towards his favorite spot - the very same hill where he'd asked Y/N to be his girlfriend.

"Stupid phone. Stupid fucking Yuki. Stupid me," he muttered under his breath, slamming the car into park with more force than necessary. He stormed out, the cool night air doing little to quell the fire burning inside him.

He reached the familiar crest of the hill, the city lights twinkling like scattered diamonds below. It was supposed to be a place of peace, a place where he could clear his head. But tonight, it was a stark reminder of everything he'd lost.

"Why couldn't you have listened to me Y/N," he growled, the words catching in his throat. He sat down on the familiar patch of grass, burying his head in his hands. A choked sob escaped his lips, the sound harsh and raw in the quiet night.

Suddenly, a soft voice broke through his despair. "Lando?"

He looked up, startled, to see Y/N standing hesitantly before him. She was holding a basket overflowing with snacks, drinks, and a familiar fluffy blanket. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face etched with worry and regret.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice hoarse. His anger hadn't quite subsided, but it was overshadowed by a wave of surprise.

"I followed you," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. She set the basket down beside him cautiously, the woven handles creaking softly. "I know you needed some space, but I couldn't just stay there. I had to try and fix this."

Lando hesitated, then gestured towards the spot beside him. Y/N sat down, her gaze fixed on the glittering cityscape. Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken emotions. Finally, Y/N reached out, placing a hand tentatively on his arm.

"Lando, I'm so, so sorry. There's no excuse for my behavior today. You were having a terrible day, and I completely ignored you. It was selfish and insensitive, and I hurt you. And for that, I am truly sorry."

Lando flinched, a tear rolling down his cheek. He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of hurt and longing. "I just... I needed you, Y/N. Today was one of those days when everything felt like it was going wrong. And all I wanted was for you to be there for me, to listen, to just be you."

Y/N's hand tightened on his arm. "I understand now. And believe me, I was there in spirit. Every time you yelled, every time you slammed the door, it broke my heart a little more. But I was so caught up in my own problems, I didn't even see how much you were hurting."

She squeezed his arm gently. "Please, Lando. Let me try to make it up to you. Let's stay here, talk, share some snacks." She gestured towards the basket with a small, hopeful smile. "Maybe then we can face tomorrow together."

Lando looked from her hopeful face to the inviting spread in the basket. A flicker of his old smile played on his lips. He sighed, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Alright, Y/N. Snacks and talking it out sound pretty good right now."

As they settled under the blanket, the city lights twinkling around them, they began to talk. Lando poured out his frustrations about the race, Yuki, and the media. Y/N listened intently, offering words of encouragement and understanding. They reminisced about better races, laughed at silly inside jokes, and slowly, the rift between them began to heal.

The drive home was filled with a comfortable silence, a silent promise to communicate better in the future. As Lando pulled into their driveway, he turned to Y/N, a genuine smile warming his face.

"Thanks for coming after me, Y/N." He leaned in, his lips brushing softly against hers. "I love you."

Y/N smiled back, her heart overflowing with relief. "I love you too, Lando. And next time, I'm chucking the phone into the bin."

[ijuliet]

txt sexual guilty pleasures (s)

the things txt loves to do with you, but would never openly admit it

pairing : ot5!txt x afab!reader

warnings : yeonjun tit sucking, soobin breath play, beomgyu swallowing EVERYTHING from you, taehyun nudes and kinda pervy, kai public settings <33

wc : 1.3k words

・choi yeonjun

staying over at the boys dorm was always sensual. you never wanted to get caught by beomgyu or taehyun, cause your poor yeonjun wouldn’t hear the end of it, so you resorted on keeping your dirty fantasies at home. it was getting pretty late and the movie you were watching with yeonjun had your full attention. yeonjun was laying on top of you and resting his head in your boobs, his favorite pillow. at first, yeonjun’s hand was drawing circles on the part of your stomach your crop top couldn’t cover. it was sweet, until you felt his hand wander up to the hem of your shirt.

“yeonjun…” you quietly whispered. you didn’t know if the other boys were sleeping, but you did know beomgyu was still out with his friends. “baby everyone’s asleep.” he looks up at you with his perfect pouty lips and fully pulls your crop top up to stare at your boobs, gently massaging them. “you’re like my own personal baby.” not wanting to decline his offer, you rake your fingers through his hair.

“i am your baby.” and he lowers his head into your chest to start sucking. planting his mouth around your sensitive nipples and using his tounge to tease you. he softly groans which make you shut your eyes tight, trying to suppress any noise to fall out of your mouth.

the movie has become background noise as your boobs are lathered in his saliva. by the time you want to try and pull yeonjun off and into a kiss, the front door is open and you quickly cover yeonjuns head with your hiked up shirt. beomgyu stares at the scene before shaking his head and going into his room.

・choi soobin

whenever you had sex with soobin it was simply vanilla. you never tried hard to change it, believing that your desires would come out on its own. so you didn’t pressure him, but one night while riding his length soobin grabbed your wrist and brought it up to his neck.

whenever you had sex with soobin it was simply vanilla. you never tried hard to change it, believing that your desires would come out on its own. so you didn’t pressure him, but one night while riding his length soobin grabbed your wrist and brought it up to his neck.

“choke me.” he quietly moans, you’ve never been more aroused in your life. quickening your pace and rolling your hips as soobin tightens your grips around his throat. the blonde hairs of his stick to his forehead and his eyes roll back.

he’s groaning more and more, and you can’t stop yourself from hitting your climax. soobin lifts his hips of his bed to slam his release into you. you both let go of his neck and pant in sync. “can i try choking, you, now?”

・choi beomgyu

anytime beomgyu saw you slip anything into your mouth, he wanted to try to, but he’d only ever do it in private. it would start off innocent, seeing you take a sip of an americano, beomgyu would reach for your cup and take a swig too.

until he started getting confident. drinking together as ominous music plays in your apartment, your sat in beomgyus lap and take a shot from the glass he handed you. before you could swallow, beomgyu opened his mouth with a glimmer in his eyes. either it was the alcohol in your system, or rather beomgyu himself, you clashed your mouths together to give him a taste too. he swallows the drink with a proud smile.

moments later you’re on your back laying on the couch as beomgyu releases his seed inside of you. out of breath and in a trance you pull him into a kiss before he pulls away to slide himself out. you get on your forearms believing that this was the wrap of your spontaneous night with your boyfriend, but he lowers himself and gathers the mix of fluids on his tongue. lapping around with his tounge and gathering the excess out of your hole, he swallows and overstimulates you, beomgyu ends with a quick peck to your lips

・kang taehyun

you’re hanging out with your friends when you look at your phone for the first time since you left your home and see spam texts from your boyfriend. you furrow your eyebrows at the amount of messages he’s sent and wonder what they could be. when you open them, you’re taken aback at the dirt words and pictures. you can feel a blush painting on your face and look side to side to see if any of your friends saw them too.

taehyun had sent you his bulge through his boxers with an alluring comment asking you why your panties were left on the bed. you bite your lip and send him a reassuring text message. i was rushed!! wait for me you smile as you press send. but soon your message is quickly disliked.

now, you’ve been sent a video which thumbnail is taehyun hand and your lace panties wrapped around his member. the pink haired boy is closing his eyes, slim body fitting the frame. you scoot over your friends and slip into the public restroom, when you finally click the video, you’re pressing your thighs together as his hands slide up and down himself.

taehyuns mouth parts and his cum leaks into your undergarments. you click your tongue as you’re in a huge predicament. he sends one last text which simply reads:

i couldn’t wait

・huening kai

having dinner with kais parents doesn’t add up with having your hands in his pants. logically. but, your huening kai couldn’t stop from wanting a handjob, and he was one to get anything if he sulked. so here you were sitting beside him unzipping he’s jeans at the dining table while his mom rushed around preparing the food.

“slow down… please.” he whispers in your ear. you don’t listen to him since he’s forced you in this position. you quicken your pace as it’s becoming easier to go up and down his length.

“we should have just waited for tonight, hm?” you look up at his face and pause, kai throws his head back in response to the lack of friction. his mom begins to ask kai what his plans are for tomorrow. you begin again as you wait for him to respond.

“i have schedules tomorrow.” his voice is shaking and he’s somewhat above a whisper, when he sits up from the chair you understand he’s close to his climax. she asks him to repeat himself and be covers his mouth to suppress a moan.

his release gathers along your fingers as he’s huffing out. you bring your hands out from his pants and get up from your seat. slotting two digits into your mouth and savoring the saltiness while staring at your boyfriend. you walk to the kitchen and repeat the words kai couldn’t say to his mom.

“he said he had schedules.” leaning over the sink and letting the water clean your sticky hands.

didn’t proof read. my reqs are open for anyone who’d like to send horny thotsss;)

[jo-harrington]

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Prologue: Crossover

Summary: Everyone wishes that they could have an Eddie Munson in their lives. In a strange turn of events, Eddie wishes that he could meet you, his favorite character from a cult classic 80's TV series. And he's about to get his wish.

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Minor Angst, Fluff, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events

Note: Hello and welcome. I'm very excited about getting to expand on this idea; it's going to be a wild ride. Please note as you head in, and as we get into further chapters...this fic is going to be a little mind-fucky and a little bit self aware. This is my love letter to and my criticism of fanfiction, but at the end of the day, we're still gonna get to fall in love with Eddie and get some kind of Happily Ever After. This is my guarantee.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

May 2022. Such a weird time.

A time of uncertainty, a time of change. A time where the world seemed like it had been torn apart and was slowly being knit back together again.

But then a switch was flipped. Something happened. An old season ended and a new one started and with that start came something new. Someone new. And suddenly, countless people began to yearn for this new person in their lives.

A new, old person. Eddie Munson.

Joy ignited. Creativity sparked. Millions of words written and read. Edits made. Art drawn. Merch bought.

So many voices crying “why isn’t he real. WHY ISN'T HE REAL.”

If there was a god, he would let them have their own Eddie Munson. And if there was a Satan, he would let them sell their souls for Eddie Munson.

That’s just not how the universe works.

At least…not this one...

October 1985. A different kind of place and time. Still weird.

But Eddie Munson was real.

Sometimes to his detriment.

And for the most part, it was alright.

He played guitar, laughed with friends, mocked bullies to protect the people like him that were considered less than. He'd overcome hardships of one sort or another for most of his life, he could keep at it for a little while longer.

It would be his day week month year sometime soon.

Wouldn't it?

But until then, he would bide his time. Hopefully, this year, he'd pass all of his classes and finally graduate. Get to flip that douchebag Higgins off and snatch up a long-awaited, and well-deserved diploma.

What made it all easier, what softened the blow...was you.

It was silly. He knew that. Ronnie used to tease him on Wednesday nights when he needed to run home because he had a "standing date with his girl."

"Your girl doesn't even know you're alive," she'd scoff as he bustled her into the van. "She isn't real."

No...no you weren't.

Why couldn't you be real.

See, for the past...however long Eddie had spent his late nights half-assing homework, planning campaigns for Hellfire, working on music, and watching a television show. His guilty pleasure, a show about the ups and downs and upside downs of living in a sleepy suburban town: Port Geneva.

A show where you were his favorite character.

And crush.

You weren't the main character--in fact, you were just the main character's quirky best friend--but you were a fan favorite, as much as he could tell. You'd only been in the background during the first season, but before long you were front and just-left-of-center. And last year, you'd even gotten a two-episode arc in the season finale as you turned the small town on its head by announcing, a month or two before graduation, that you were quitting school to follow your dream and become an artist.

And man...Eddie had been there.

He'd actually missed those episodes airing when...well, when everything happened with his father and the heist...and the house...and Paige.

He'd missed a lot of episodes that season. Missed seeing you come into your own as he tried and failed to come into his.

Thankfully Wayne--and Eddie wasn't a believer but whatever deity in charge needed to bless his Uncle Wayne--had the foresight to tape those episodes for him.

Those tapes would be cherished 'til the day he died, because they had truly gotten him through those tough days after everything.

He wished he had seen them when they aired, maybe...maybe he would have made some different decisions if he had.

Of course, Eddie had already loved you before then.

Since he had first laid eyes on you, actually.

He was sure that if you were real, you would be the one to understand him more than any of his friends. See the real him. In return, he would understand you, be there for you too.

He already had been. He'd seen you cry countless times, he'd laughed with you, celebrated your successes and mourned your failures. He'd been there for you when you crushed on that dickhead Mark, and then had your heart broken by the careless jerk.

And somewhere deep down inside of him, when he was sitting in that jail cell after he wasted his phone call on Paige and he felt the weight of the world bear down on his shoulders…he wished that you were real so he could have called you instead.

If you were real, Eddie's life would just be a little nicer.

He knew…he just knew.

Of course, in the mean time while he wished with every fiber of his being that you would walk into his life, he brought you to life in other ways. During mid-season and summer hiatuses, he would write you into his DND campaigns. His friends knew, they always called him out for it.

"Are you seriously making her an NPC man?" Dougie would scoff and throw a D20 across the table at him.

"No, what are you talking about?" he defended and threw the die right back at his friend. "This is Spiria the Bold."

"Uh huh," Jeff rolled his eyes. "Sure."

By his imagination and his pen, you became a powerful warrior, a sharp-tongued trickster, a seductive mage. You became anything he wanted you to be--most often with a companion and lover that mirrored him--and everything he knew, deep down, that you were.

And then the unthinkable happened.

September ‘84. He and Wayne were in the checkout line at K-mart. Cart stacked with new clothes and school supplies and groceries. When suddenly...there you were. Right in front of him.

Alright, not you. Per se. But your face, smiling alongside Samantha and Patrick and Scotty and Bill on the cover of the TV Guide.

On Set with the Stars of Port Geneva.

Wayne was the one to snatch the magazine from the rack and add it to their bounty, a knowing smile on his lips as he shook his head.

He knew Eddie needed a little pick-me-up.

Or a big one.

How could he have known this would be anything but one...

Eddie scoured over the pages once they got back to the trailer. He was hoping there would be a big enough picture of you that he could cut out and tape to the otherwise barren walls of his new room. And there was; you were leaning against the back of your signature pastel blue Volkswagen Beetle, arms across your chest, head tilted to the side with the signature scrunched smile you gave when you were embarrassed.

He adored you.

Before he took scissors to the page, he read the interview with your actress.

He wasn't too keen on her, even though she had your face.

The illusion that Rosemary Glass was really you had been shattered the first time he'd heard her voice on a radio interview; instead of your perfect and familiar middle-American speech...Rosemary's voice was accented.

Not to mention, she sounded pretentious.

Gross.

Still, he could look past that annoyance if he got some kind of insight to what the next season would bring for you.

Hopefully not a new love interest. His heart could only take so much.

...gives us a tour of the Patterson and Son's set, one that is forever enshrined as the setting of Patrick and Samantha's first kiss. "Oh I'm actually not fond of that scene," Rosemary confesses. "Yeah it's sweet, and the way I bring Sam in so Pat could confess his feelings but the...when I fell down? It was not scripted. And I was honestly shocked they kept that in. But fans seem to think she's clumsy now because of it. That I'm clumsy. When I just tripped over a wire. It's quite awful, really." We ask Rosemary to tell us what she'll miss most, now that the show is coming to an end...

Eddie went rigid as he read those words.

The show...coming to an end?

"What?" he exclaimed into his empty room. "No, no, no."

He carefully examined the article again, then turned back to the beginning of the feature, only to feel his heart stop in his chest.

The title of the feature was like crit hit.

The final killing blow to his already weak constitution.

One Last Summer in Port Geneva - On the Set of the Final Season

The final season was a sham.

Eddie savored every episode, though. Of course he would!

He would enjoy every last moment with you that he could get before he lost you forever. But...he hated it.

It was lazy writing--seriously what were they thinking--and a quick, cheap means to tie up all the loose ends they'd set up over the years. He could tell they tried to deliver as fulfilling a finale for the extensive cast of characters as they could. Still, he was sure he could have done better.

Samantha and Patrick got engaged after graduation. That was lame.

Bonnie finally quit the bakery to open her own cafe the next town over. Didn't anyone remember that she wanted to quit because she wanted to be a vet instead? That was the whole point of her! She didn't want to follow in her family's footsteps and she was doing just that.

And you? You took a backseat.

Instead of leaving town right after graduation--something that you had followed through reluctantly to make your parents happy even though you had just resolved to put your own happiness first for once--you stayed to help Pat plan his proposal.

Your big adventure, your big push for your dreams, were on hold again. You played second fiddle over and over until the final episode.

Eddie was grateful to have you for a little longer, but...once again annoyed that you were looked over--over and over, just like he was--when you had already proved that you were worthy of top billing.

Worthy of being the main character for once.

Still, at the beginning of the series finale, you packed your bags, cashed in your savings account, and drove out of town. The future was yours, just like it was always meant to be.

And Eddie cried.

The whole time tears streamed down his face as you said your own watery goodbyes. He might have even waved as you stuck your hand out the windshield to say goodbye to your friends as your car idled at the last stop sign. You blew a kiss to everything you knew and loved then started on your way into the unknown, car getting smaller in the distance right before the commercial break.

He held his breath for the final scene: a walk through the house where it all started and then Sam smiled her signature hopeful smile as she shut the door on the audience.

The screen faded to black for one final time and he exhaled.

"It's over," he muttered in slight disbelief, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.

Port Geneva was over, and you were gone for good.

It was a strange feeling.

Heartbreak, mourning, disappointment? He couldn't really know for sure. Empty was the best way to describe it; the lack of feeling. It was infuriating. Port Geneva was just a television show, he attempted to rationalize for the nth time since he started watching. You were just a character on a tv show; how could you mourn for someone and something that wasn't even real?

You hadn't actually died. He could still see glimpses of you if he wanted, whenever Rosemary Glass' next movie came out or something.

But that wasn't you.

You were gone, for all intents and purposes, and it was a blow that hit Eddie hard.

How could he go on without you?

Devastated, he got high that night after he stewed on his grief. He day-dreamed and monologued to an empty trailer about a universe where the two of you were together, where your travels took you to Hawkins, of all places, and you fell in love with him, just like you were supposed to.

If the walls could talk, they would have a fantastic tale to tell. One with heroes and misunderstandings and love at first sight. One with a horrible, unseen foe and many pitfalls and dangers that exceeded anyone's wildest imaginations. One with a magic door that led to the happily ever that was beyond well-deserved.

Grief did wonderful and terrible things, after all.

He woke up for school the next morning with cotton mouth and a vague outline of a story that did just that: brought you to Hawkins to fall in love with him and all of the other things that seemed like nonsense once he was in a more right-minded state.

The only problem was that it was all in his English notebook. And he didn't need anyone finding that.

"Fuck," he groaned and ripped the page out. He shoved it into his bedside drawer, where it would be doomed to a crumpled and forgotten future.

Or until he needed a condom.

Which, considering how everyone had doubled down on their disgust of him, wouldn't be any time soon.

But there you stayed.

Put away, like old obsessions and childish things, to be ignored and forgotten.

At least for a little while.

Eddie tried.

He did.

He kept you and Port Geneva out of sight and mind as much as humanly possible. It was the most effort he had really put to anything tangible in the past year.

The series ended at a weird time--during the middle of the season--and some investigative journalism show took over its time slot. Barbara Walters couldn't hold a candle to you, so it wasn't difficult for him to keep himself rooted in reality on the nights where he typically indulged in his silly fantasies.

The daydreams that he had were limited to lyrics for Corroded Coffin originals and ideas for Hellfire, and nights were spent alone in the darkness of the living room, with his reflection in the television set to keep him company as he tried his best to do homework that he'd already done before.

Before he realized, though, the school year was coming to a close and he was--big shocker--on the brink of failure. It wasn't until Higgins called him into his office, again, that you made your violent resurgence into his life.

There was a tentative truce between Higgins and Eddie for a while.

Civility was a strange thing for both of them. They actively avoided one another, save for a snide jab here and there, and Eddie tried to stay out of the Principal's Office as much as he could.

That is, until Higgins was forced to tell Eddie that he needed to repeat his repeat senior year.

"Don't act like I want this at all," he sneered at Eddie who tripped over a reaction. "I'd rather have you out of these halls for good. You drop out one year, then you re-enroll and you fail another. Try to make the most of it this time Munson; I don't want to have this talk again."

Eddie grumbled the whole drive back to the trailer, and he fell onto the sofa with his head in his hands once he got in.

"Which one of the fates wrote this stupid plot for me now, as if last year wasn't enough. You can't make this stuff up sometimes."

He laid there, wallowing in his misery for hours, days, years, until it got dark enough for headlights outside to be noticeable as they shined through the window. There was a glint of a reflection that caught his eye and had him turn his head.

"TV," he sighed and reached out as though he could touch the set and stacks of tapes neatly piled below. “The cause-of and solution-to all of life’s problems.”

He contemplated his life for a few more minutes.

He could make the most of the final few weeks of the school year. He could set himself up as a willing and reliable pupil for these last few assignments and tests, even though they wouldn't mean very much.

He could do all of these things so that when he walked into the halls of Hawkins High in the fall, on his absolute last first day of school--whatever deity or powers-that-be willing, because how "getting the hell outta dodge or he would die here" turned into "two extra years in that shit hole" he could only attribute to cosmic intervention--the faculty would already know he would try his best this time.

It would show them he was serious about graduating and that he would succeed despite all odds against him. Finally.

He could do this.

Or...

He could put in one of the tapes from the stack and scrounge for loose bills left over from his last few transactions and order a pizza. Pretend like he didn't exist for a little while.

And given the choice?

Eddie Munson chose the latter.

And he continued to choose the latter throughout the summer and even into the fall.

Nights that he didn't already have plans were spent in front of the television.

They were cherished nights with you.

Aside from his VHS recordings, he found a channel that showed reruns of Port Geneva after 10pm. Two hours of small town shenanigans that might very well be found just outside of his own door--if he only went and looked--with you just there, making your appearance every so often and catching his eye.

Homework was sometimes left halfway done on the coffee table until he needed to switch out a tape, or change the channel, and he spent more time filling his heart than enriching his mind, so to speak; he knew all of this school stuff already anyways.

Third times a charm and all right?

He talked to the screen more often than not, tried to warn you against one disappointment or another. Sometimes, if he was watching one of his tapes, he'd pause right on your face and just talk to you. Mundane things, usually, like Ronnie's last phone call home or some album that got released and a song he thought you might like.

Other nights, like tonight, he got vulnerable. Moments where life seemed a little extra trying, and he'd confess his feelings to your image.

Knelt on the floor in front of the coffee table, warm light bathed his face promising comfort as he spoke, and the din of static emitted from the television set, akin to an angel's voice...beyond understanding of humans.

He'd never been one for church, but this kind of confessional was sacred enough.

An eternal bond, just you and him.

He stopped his ramblings at that thought.

It was a strange moment of clarity.

Where had that come from?

"I..." Eddie looked down at himself, a foot away from the television set, remote clenched in his hand. Then he looked at you, soul-filled eyes just beyond the glass, not looking at him, only...through him, just past him. "What am I doing?"

What was he doing? He was...he wasn't a kid anymore who could hide in his dreams; well, honestly he was always going to do that, but this was different.

One minute he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he told you about his troubles, and the next it was all back, heavier than ever, as he realized how silly this all was.

And here he was, wasting his life knelt at your altar.

It wasn't holy. It was pathetic.

You'd never answer; you weren't real.

"Why?" he asked aloud, jaw clenched. He gripped the remote tightly. "What did I do to not have...someone? Huh? What have I ever done to be alone? That I have to rely on a fucking television character to feel understood. And now I'm losing my mind talking to myself, talking to you, at midnight every night. Why am I here wishing that you're real? Why couldn't you just...be...real?"

If there was a God, he would let Eddie Munson have you. If there was a Satan, he would let Eddie sell his soul for you.

And that's how he knew neither of them existed: you didn't exist either.

Eddie hit the eject button on the VCR and was about to shut everything so he could go to bed, when there was a crash outside.

Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd gotten used to since he came to live with Wayne.

This crash, however, started a ruckus.

Someone was yelling and that stupid dog across the way started barking.

Eddie was a lot of things...but a dramatic gossip was definitely high on the list.

What else was there to do in the Midwest?

He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl full of junk on the coffee table and stepped outside, fully intent on plopping down on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.

A car crashed into the telephone pole; didn't look like there was much damage but it had run through some trashcans and might have clipped the drivers side mirror off of Mrs. Mayfield's car. The same Mrs. Mayfield who was on her own porch being held back by Max as she yelled.

"Are you kidding me? It's fucking midnight!"

"Mom! Stop!"

"The car, Max!"

Maybe there'd be a fight.

He barely got his cigarette lit when he noticed--really noticed--the offending car: a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle.

He blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes, thinking it might have just been a trick of the light or something.

Or it was a coincidence.

Or a dream.

Maybe he'd had a heart attack and died in front of his television or something?

Plenty of people drove Volkswagen Beetles. He was pretty sure he'd even heard Nancy Wheeler asking her parents for one as a graduation present.

But with the same license plate number?

The same one from the show, the same one that was in the TV Guide all those months ago. The same one on the makeshift poster he had taped on the wall next to his bed, that he'd run his fingers over to "kiss" you goodbye countless times, just like he did to his guitar.

"It's just dark," he tried to convince himself, "and I'm tired, and...and..."

It was a coincidence. It was a dream.

He repeated the mantra over and over in his head like a lifeline.

It was another fan like him who just used fantasy to make their life a little better. That's all he was trying to do too, right? He could understand; hell, if this was a new neighbor, maybe he'd be able to chat with them about the show. Wouldn't that be something?

Eddie was so distracted making up endless excuses for himself that he didn't notice Mrs. Mayfield as she threw her hands up in the air with an exaggerated "I'm calling the police. He didn't hear Max holler at her mom to calm down, or see the tail lights of the Beetle turn off either.

It wasn't until the driver's side door swung open and a sneaker-covered foot crunched against the gravel that he forgot all the excuses he was conjuring.

And his heart stopped as the driver got out of the car and stood in the faint glow of the streetlight.

Because that driver was you.

Next Chapter: Alternate Universe

There is no taglist for this series, please follow the STFF Updates tag or check the series out on AO3.

[bamfkeeper]

Texture.

RQ: 'I don't do requests a lot cause they make me nervous, so forgive me if its kinda all over the place. I was curious if you could do headcanons about kurt with like an autistic s/o who finds comfort in like listening to him speak in his language or like the feeling of his fur if that makes sense? Fuzzy textures help calm me a bit when im super anxious or overstimulated.' - @bunnysarts

Pairing: Kurt Wagner x GN!reader // Warnings: None

A/N: Cute hcs with Kurt are my guilty pleasure, especially when dealing with things like this. I think he'd be so, so good at it. One of those who'd be extremely considerate and go out of his way to make you feel comfortable <3

Kurt is very conscious about your needs. He tries his best to learn and understand them.

Growing up, he didn't get a lot of knowledge about mental disorders or mental health much at all, so coming to the mansion she seeing that there are a lot of students effected with them, he did his best to learn about them to be more helpful.

More so with you.

He researched and learned, discovering what could help you the most during hard times.

He realized things like textures help a lot, so he bought you many things to toy with in your hands when you were feeling overstimulated or anxious.

Kurt would try to bamf you out of stressful situations too, but he knew that some of those things were unavoidable.

So instead, he pulled your hands up to him and under his uniform, letting your palms feel his velvety, fuzzy chest. "Ah, das ist gut, ja? Focus on me, liebe....focus on my body. On my voice. Alles ist in Ordnung..."

You just have to lean into him and feel his arms and tail wrap around you while he slowly calms you from a high strung panicked state. He does his very best.

"Atmen...just like that. Du machst das so gut." Kurt soothes and rubs your back, using his arms to shield your head and ears to muffle the sounds coming in.

Feeling his fuzzy chest and his heartbeat would help you a lot, his tail wrapped firmly around you, maybe even letting you mess with his spade.

If you like scents too, he'd do his best to smell like the specific scent you like the most. I mean, he does kinda always smell like brimstone, but...he'd try. For you.

"How do you feel now?" He asked, looking down as you pulled back from him. He gives you a gentle smile, his hands rubbing your arms and ensuring you were okay.

"You did wonderfully, liebe. So well. Ich bin stolz auf dich." He praises as you come down from your stress. It makes you smile, he helped you come down from a scary state of mind and you felt much better now.

"Yeah, I do, thank you Kurt...you're the best." You whisper, still a little shaken up but you're doing much better thanks to him.

He sticks by you for the day, making sure you're really doing okay like you said.

He's pretty protective over you, so staying at a distance isn't' something he wants to do.

You wouldn't want that either.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight